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jenoslutie · 2 months ago

Text

that's that me, espresso l y.jh

❥ Synopsis: Jeonghan fucks you hard, Jeonghan fucks you good. You both know that much, so why do you refuse to give him the time of day outside of bed?

❥ Genre: Smut, Desperate Jeonghan, Reader is closed off, one sided pining (until it's mutual), Fuckgirl!reader, Formula One drivers!Seventeen, Reader is a life guard (so is Joshua!) theres also like angst if u really squint.

❥ Warnings: *takes a deep breath* unprotected sex, degradation, praise, choking, implied face slapping, multiple sex scenes (like 3), creampies (ew i hate that word!!!), exhibitionism, jeonghan is a little mean during sex but its okay, jeonghan fucks her while seungcheol listens in but she does not know, fingering, oral, face fucking, car sex, jeonghan cums in her and makes her keep it inside while they play beach volleyball, reader likes to send videos of her sleeping with other people (cheol and josh) to jeonghan to mess with him. i think thats it.

❥ Word count: 8.6k

a/n: so im finally done this LMAOO. huge. huge. HUGE!!!! thank u to everyone who helped me with this fic @hanniesluvr my lovely aera my fellow jeonghan freak my WIFE!!! for keeping me motivated through this and matching my freak, @haologram for the banner and basically ghost writing this (if u like the whole f1 driver thing, thank alta :D) and @dearlyjun for using her big huge sexy brain and f1 knowledge and helping a girl out ANDD!!!! @jihyokat for beta reading i love u all MWAH <3 ANYWAYS!!! here she is <3 hope u enjoy :D

“You’re already leaving?” Jeonghan called out from behind you, watching as you redressed yourself. Jeonghan knew you never stayed. Well, you never stayed with him at least.

You let out a laugh, ”You know I'm not staying” Jeonghan let out a groan at that, annoyed that he’s seen you stay the night with other hookups but not him. Why not Jeonghan? He was hot, he fucked good, he fucked hard (the way you like it), he fit all of the requirements that made him a good fuck buddy. So why did you refuse to spend the night with him every time you hooked up?

The answer was simple, you didn’t want to stick around when you know they’re gonna catch feelings. You know Jeonghan is going to get attached too easily if you keep staying. But there’s something about him that’s just too good to let go.

The first time you and Jeonghan had sex, it wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced before. Jeonghan was different. He single-handedly fulfilled all of your depraved fantasies on your first night together. You never thought that someone like Jeonghan would be so…nasty in bed but the second you followed him back to his car you were in for a surprise to say the least.

For someone who looked like an angel, he sure didn’t act like one in bed.

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You were invited to the party Jeonghan threw to celebrate his win in Las Vegas. Your best friend and second place winner tonight, Mingyu, drove you to the venue with him. You could hear the music booming before you even got to the entrance of the nightclub. It was huge and the only other person you knew at this party was Seungkwan, Mingyu’s teammate.

The moment you were let into the club your eyes landed on Boo Seungkwan, the other man you were expecting to see tonight. His eyes locked with yours and immediately they lit up. He was conversing with Yoon Jeonghan, the man of the night and no matter how many times you’ve seen the man on TV, it’s nothing compared to the real deal. Jeonghan was nothing short of ethereal. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was an angel on earth, not one of the top racers on the whole grid.

“Y/n!” Seungkwan shouted over the crowd, your smiles mirroring each other as Mingyu led you through the ocean of bodies. “You look fucking stunning tonight dude” He left the group he was talking with to pull you away from Mingyu. You were aware of how good you looked tonight. You chose not to drive to the party tonight in plans of going home with someone at the party and you knew that you had to dress to impress. With your little black dress and matching stiletto pumps, you were sure you’d get someone to either A) buy you a drink or B) take you back to theirs.

…Hopefully both?

“Thanks Kwannie! I thought maybe I’d dress to impress tonight” Seungkwan snickered at that, “Why? got any plans tonight?” He wiggled his eyebrows, looking over your shoulder at Mingyu, implying you’d be going back to his place after this. Typical Seungkwan, he was always so determined to someday expose that you and Mingyu were secretly hooking up on the down low but that day won’t be soon.

“Fuck no! You know damn well i would never fuck Mingyu of all people” Lies. You and Mingyu did hook up once and never again. Not that it was bad but because on your way out that day you met the one and only Choi Seungcheol, Yoon Jeonghan’s teammate at Ferrari. You and Seungcheol have been hooking up on the down low since. You wrapped up the conversation with Seungkwan and made your way around the club, searching for Mingyu.

“Hey!” A tap on your shoulder caught your attention, You turned around and there was the man of the night, Yoon Jeonghan, you watched him give you a once over before meeting your eyes. “Hi! Jeonghan, right?” You were quick to introduce yourself, maintaining eye contact as best as you could. It wasn’t easy when his big brown eyes were looking deep into your own and to make it worse, his pretty face was glowing, the aftermath of a huge victory on the track today.

“Are you looking for your boyfriend?” Jeonghan frowned, eyes searching around looking for whoever he supposed was your boyfriend.

“Boyfriend?” You snickered, “Who’s my boyfriend dare I ask”

“Mingyu, no?”

You burst into laughter, hand resting on his shoulder for reassurance. “Mingyu is not my boyfriend, we’re just friends. And yes, I was looking for him”

Jeonghan sighed in relief. “Thank God, Mind if I buy you a drink?”

BINGO!

Jeonghan led the way to the bar where he bought you your drink of choice, a Vodka Tonic. You were sitting on a bar stool with your back to the bar while Jeonghan stood in front of you, looking down at you and taking in your figure. “You look amazing tonight by the way” He smiled at you as he watched you take a sip of your drink, smiling creeping onto your face at both the taste of your drink and the compliment.

“Thank you, I put it on in hopes to go home with someone tonight” You gazed up at him expectantly.

“Oh? Is that so?” Jeonghan smirked, stepping forward to situate himself between your legs, leaning his head down enough to where his lips were hovering over yours.

“Wanna take me home?” You smiled with faux innocence, downing your drink before Jeonghan pulled you up and off your seat and out of the club.

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The drive back to his hotel was exhilarating, Jeonghan feeling up your bare thighs while he drove while you leaned over the center console and pressed kisses all over his neck earning you halfhearted warnings. He knows you shouldn't be distracting him like that but he also knows he does not want you to stop, your lips on his neck almost making him lose focus of the road.

Before you knew it, the two of you were back at his hotel room with his lips against yours in a desperate kiss while you were pressed up against the wall. Jeonghan’s hands wandered all over your body, feeling up every inch of your body that he could get his hands on.

“Get me naked Jeonghan,” You let out a sound that was something even more desperate than a whine, but Jeonghan ignored your plea, continuing to attack your lips with his own, enjoying your pretty sounds as you got even more desperate for him to do something.

“On your knees” Jeonghan ordered. A sudden shift in the atmosphere made you freeze. Jeonghan’s voice dropped an octave as he looked at you with lust filled eyes. “I’m not going to repeat myself” You instantly dropped to your knees and looked up at him, locking eyes with his own.

“I’m going to use your throat like a fucking fleshlight. Okay?” Your body buzzed with excitement as you heard that, sure you’ve sucked cock before but never has anyone ever done anything like that. “Squeeze my thigh if you want me to stop” You only nodded enthusiastically and within an instant, he was ridding himself of his pants along with his boxers before he was pressing his hard cock against your open mouth. You eagerly sucked the tip of Jeonghan’s cock into your mouth, and began to tease the slit on the tip of his cock with your tongue. As you sucked his cock into your mouth, you could feel the wetness seeping out of your pussy. You did your best to ignore the urge to just have his cock in you.

Jeonghan roughly pushed you all the way down on his cock making you gag immediately but you were quick to remind yourself to breathe through your nose. Jeonghan was pulling you up on his cock and slamming you back down with no relent. True to his word, he began to use you as if you were nothing but a toy, placing his hands on the sides of your face to get a better grip. His noises filled the room, tumbling out of his mouth in a way that only made you leak more on the floor of the hotel room. His one hand maneuvered to your hair, gripping tight as he began fucking into your mouth with even more force. In no time he was cumming down your throat, pushing your head all the way down his cock until his whole cock hit the back of your throat.

“Get on the bed,” You obliged wordlessly, submitting to Jeonghan and whatever he wants of you. Making yourself comfortable on the bed, you gazed up at Jeonghan, watching as he stared down at you almost as if to mock the way you submit to him so easily.

“Jeonghan-” Before you could finish Jeonghan delivered a light slap to your face. Muttering a small but stern ‘shut up’

"You speak when spoken to," he grits, glaring at you with dark eyes. He presses down on your cheeks, forcing your mouth open, you wince out in pain. “I’m gonna give you your safeword okay?” He didn’t really give you much room to agree before he assigned you a safeword, something easy for both of you to remember. You repeated it back to him to which Jeonghan smiled at your obedience.

“Use it if you need to, okay? I won’t be upset if you do” Only after you nodded in understanding did Jeonghan inch closer to you to rid you of the rest of your clothes. He grinned when he caught a glimpse of your soaked pussy. “So wet already? Just from me fucking your face?” The question was rhetorical the way Jeonghan dropped to his knees, wasting no more time to dig his face between your legs. Dragging his lips between your slit, sucking your arousal onto his tongue.

Tugging his shirt off, he fixes himself back between your legs. Letting out groans against your core, prompting you to moan out yourself. He presses a last kiss to your clit before pulling away. He sits on the edge of your bed. “Sit that pretty pussy on my cock, slut.” And again, you had no will in you to deny anything the man asks of you. Immediately making your way over and straddling his thighs. You take a deep breath before reaching down to guide him in. Feeling your stomach twist as the stretch slowly splits you open. Your eyes shut as you cry out at his thick cock stretching you open. “Why the fuck are you so tight. Holy shit” Jeonghan winces, his own eyes slamming shut at the feeling of your warm walls enveloping him in.

“You’re too big—“ you whine, your head falling down to rest on his shoulder as you slowly begin to move up and down on his cock. But it didn’t go far before Jeonghan was wrapping his hands around your hips and taking over your movements with faster and harder ones of his own.

You let out a string of moans at his intense pace making him chuckle. “Fucking slut. you like that dont you?” he gave a hard thrust, bottoming out inside your cunt. “Like getting fucked like this by a guy you just met, hmm?” You moaned out choruses of ‘yes’ as Jeonghan began rutting up into you. Moving a hand down to rub at your clit, your body jerked as you felt your high incoming.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum Jeonghan” Your voice came out in a high pitched whine as you rubbed your clit harder, body shaking as Jeonghan fucked you harder to help guide you to the edge. Your eyes roll back as your high hits you and Jeonghan helps you ride it out, not forgetting to kiss you through it too. The two of you with no care in the world for who can hear you. As the high of your orgasm dissipates, he flips you onto your back. He’s close too, you can tell by the way his cock is throbbing inside you and his thrusts turn erratic.

“Cum inside Jeonghan.” You all but begged, Jeonghan moaning out before he also toppled over the edge. Cock throbbing erratically inside you as he emptied ropes of cum inside you. The two of you took a minute to calm your racing hearts before Jeonghan pulled out and flopped down on the bed next to you.

“Holy shit” He huffed, looking over at your smiling face. “Please tell me you’ll give me your number” He was still out of breath and it only made you chuckle, rolling off the bed to pick up your purse from where he he face fucked you moments ago. Fishing out your phone, you unlocked it before handing it to Jeonghan who was nearly knocked out on the bed for him to put his number in and text himself.

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Since the day you two hooked up at Jeonghan’s party, you’d started seeing each other more often. It’s not like you only seeked Jeonghan for your dick appointments. In reality Jeonghan was the one constantly calling and texting for when he can see you again. You won’t say that you minded it though. Sex with Jeonghan is an out of the world experience. Him making you feel highs you have never felt before with any other partner or yourself.

As for Jeonghan? Jeonghan felt nothing short of smitten. Getting into his bed with anyone other than you made the most uncomfortable feeling arise within him and it had been practically days since he last saw you so he had to hit you up.

jeonghan: i miss youuuuuuu jeonghan: hi jeonghan: cmon respondddddddd jeonghan: alright.. what position he got you in???

you: [attachment: 1 video]

You knew Jeonghan didn't expect you to actually send him a video of what position your last hookup had you in, you watched the video back and you couldn't help but get a little ego boost while watching yourself getting fucked by one of your coworkers, Joshua. He had you on all fours, hand gripping onto your waist as he fucked you.

Another thing you couldnt help is noticing how Joshua was not fucking you half as good as Jeonghan does. There's no bruises on your hips, there's no hair pulling, and the worst of all, there's no degradation. One thing about Jeonghan, for someone with such an angelic face, he has the nastiest mouth. It’s not something you're complaining about though, you would never complain about the way Jeonghan treats you in bed.

It wasn’t like Jeonghan was the only guy you could pull, never that. Jeonghan just happened to be one of the best guys you’ve ever slept with. Which might even be the only reason you keep going back to him. Something about the way he treats you just has you always craving more of him- not that you’d ever admit that to him but it was true. Jeonghan might call you all sorts of names in bed, treat you like some common whore, but right after he’ll always clean you up, attempt to hold you close, give you all the reassurance you need for you to know he doesn’t actually think you’re a common whore (not that it matters).

jeonghan: what the fuck man… jeonghan: i’m about to have the saddest wank of my life jeonghan: ^^^woah idk who said that jeonghan: might be the demons idk

you: have fun jeonghan <3

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you: hey, you wanna come play beach volleyball tmrw @3?

seungcheol: hmm seungcheol: i dont think i can make it, seokmin wants to hang.

you: boo you whore.

[seungcheol disliked “boo you whore.”]

If there's one thing you hate, it would be your job. Sitting in the sun for hours on end and staring at people who were obviously having a lot more fun than you were. You thought you could invite Seungcheol so you could play beach volleyball but apparently the universe didn’t want you to enjoy your shift. But that’s when it hit you, you could just invite Jeonghan. Surely he wouldn’t let you down.

you: hey r u free tmrw?

His reply was almost instant.

jeonghan: yea, why?

you: wanna play beach volleyball at the beach i work at?

you: i'm thinking around 3pm

jeonghan: i'm down, which beach is it?

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You saw Jeonghan’s car pull up to the beach almost thirty minutes before your shift was supposed to start, giving you thirty minutes to spare before the rest of your coworkers piled in to start their shifts.

“Hey, Beautiful” Jeonghan called out as he got out of his car, leaning back against it as you approached him. “Hi Handsome,” You smiled back as you watched him give you a once over, looking at you in your work uniform, a simple red bikini with the word ‘LIFEGUARD’ printed on it in white. Jeonghan leaned down so that he could whisper in your ear, “Do you think I can make you cum before your shift?” You nodded, not trusting your voice to do the talking, knowing you’d accidentally moan or whimper out loud.

“Get in the car then”

You didn't need to be told twice, immediately you hopped in the backseat of Jeonghan’s car and he followed suit. There wasn't much time for foreplay so he leans in, connecting your lips eagerly. As if he’s been craving this for years and is finally being satiated. The limited space doesn’t offer much room to maneuver but Jeonghan shifts in between your legs enough to grind his clothed cock against your barely clothed core. The whole situation arousing you beyond belief, about to fuck Jeonghan in the back of his car, parked someplace where anyone could see what was happening inside. You could feel your arousal seeping out of your pussy and staining the seat of your bikini. Moaning out into the kiss you pushed your hips into his own, urging him to do something.

“Jeonghan do something” You urge him in a hushed whisper, barely able to get the words out with the way Jeonghan was grinding into you so deliciously. Jeonghan merely hummed in response, halting his movements to slide down his swim shorts and free his aching cock.

“You realize how much of a slut you are for this hm? Letting me have you like this where anyone can see you, hear you, find out how much of a slut you are for me.” Jeonghan’s gaze was dark, almost mocking you. You let out some sort of groan at his words. A chill running down your spine at the thought of what Jeonghan is gonna do to you. Flashbacks of the first night you spent with him running through your head. Jeonghan was so rough in a way that no one else had ever been with you and you couldn't help but admit that you loved every second of it. Being too absorbed in your thoughts, you couldn’t respond back to jeonghan which earned you a slap across your face. Your cheek stinging at the contact but nonetheless making you clench around nothing. The feeling of your damp swimsuit sticking to your core making you wiggle your hips in discomfort.

“Pay attention to me slut” Jeonghan seethed, wrapping a hand around your throat and putting just enough pressure to have your eyes fluttering shut. “Beg for it if you want it” Another slap to your face, this time it was harder than before. Your eyes tearing up a little before you squeaked out a little ‘please’ Another slap.

“You can do better”

“Please fuck me Jeonghan” You pleaded, a tear running down your cheek at the hit.

“Try again” His voice was softer this time, rubbing his free hand over the spot he just slapped.

“Jeonghan please” you whined. “ Want everyone to hear how good you fuck me please” You begged harder this time, hoping this would be enough for Jeonghan and boy were you right. He pushes the seat of your bikini to the side before repositioning himself and pushing his length into you, moaning in delight as your walls stretch to accommodate his size. You cry out in pleasure, the feeling of finally having Jeonghan in you making more tears roll down your cheeks. He doesn’t take it easy though, keeping a steady, rough rhythm from the start. Pounding you into his backseat while watching you lose yourself in the feeling of him ramming into you. “You love it huh? Tell me how much you love it” You didn’t have it in you to deny it, fully aware of the way you literally begged him for it moments ago.

“I fucking love it Jeonghan” You gasp, his hand reaching down to rub at your clit in harsh circles.

“Does anyone fuck you like i do?” He grunts, rocking his hips into yours harder, as if it was even possible with the way he was fucking you so hard you were positive anyone passing by could see the car visibly shaking.

You shook your head immediately, “No one fucks me like you do” You confirm. Jeonghan hummed, your answer satisfying him enough that he tightened his hand around your neck once again and rubbing your clit with the other hand. The head of his cock fucks into your most sensitive spot and you feel all the thoughts in your head slowly disintegrate. Head full of only Jeonghan. You urgently reached out to grab onto something to steady something, quickly opting for his hand that was wrapped around your neck. You gripped his forearm with both hands, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your vision goes unfocused as your orgasm hits, letting out weak moans and gasps as the feeling consumes you entirely. Feeling it course through your whole body all the way down to your toes. Your walls constrict around Jeonghan the whole time, urging his own orgasm to hit him fast.

“Gonna cum” Jeonghan warns. His thrusts turn erratic as he lets out a string of guttural groans.

“Inside” You plead, “Need you to fill me up again please Jeonghan” Jeonghan moans loudly at that, your begging pushing him all the way over the edge. His eyes shut tightly and he groans out loudly. His body tensing up as he fills you up entirely.

“Gonna be a good girl and keep that inside you yeah? All your little friends oblivious of the way you just begged me to slut you out” Heat rushed to your cheeks at the way Jeonghan was humiliating you but you agreed either way. Jeonghan’s eyes lit up when you nodded your head with a small smile. He took time to calm down before he slipped out of you wordlessly, ignoring the way you whine at the feeling of emptiness and fixing your bikini bottoms to cover you up again.

After fixing himself up he spoke up again, “Can I kiss you?” Jeonghan asked, rather shyly, his demeanor a stark contrast to the Jeonghan that was pouding you into his backseat moments ago. You chuckled at his sheepishness. “Yes Jeonghan you can kiss me” Your voice was small but he didn’t hesitate to press his lips onto yours once again, this time the kiss was much softer than before. His hands cupping your cheeks as he used his thumbs to wipe your tears.

You pulled away first. “Let’s get going? I think I’m already late”

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“Why the fuck is he here?” Jeonghan muttered from beside you, watching as his teammate, Seungcheol approached your group. Ever the show off, Seungcheol was wearing only a pair of black swim shorts, showing off his toned body for everyone at the beach to see.

You turned to where Jeonghan was looking and lo and behold, there was Choi Seungcheol. You and Seungcheol had….history. Well, not really history but you two have been fucking for a couple months and you were fully aware that he is Jeonghan’s teammate and its not like you were picking out the Ferrari drivers in specific to sleep with. The two of them were the ones who came onto you first.

“Seungcheol?” You gasped, not expecting him to show up after rudely (not really) canceling on you. You felt Jeonghan’s arm tentatively wrap around your waist as Seungcheol approached.

“Hey baby!” Seungcheol grinned, completely ignoring Jeonghan on your side, with his arm obviously wrapped around your waist. You heard Jeonghan mutter a small ‘baby??’ under his breath while continuing to faux nonchalance.

“Hi Cheol! I thought you were gonna hang with Seokmin today?”

“Well, I was, but Seokmin had to meet with Chan today” He shrugged, smiling wider showing off his stunning smile that initially captivated you.

“Oh! Cheol, this is Jeonghan” You were quick to detangle yourself from Jeonghan’s arms, standing awkwardly in between the two men who were finally forced to make eye contact (thanks to you)

“This is the new guy you fuck? Really? Had to be my teammate?” Seungcheol scoffed, losing the smile once adorning his face.

“ Uh yeah, Hannie, this is Seungcheol.”

“The other guy you fuck.”

“Well, yes.”

Jeonghan wasn’t too phased at first, especially considering it was Jeonghan’s cum currently inside you and not Seungcheol’s. Jeonghan sighed before speaking out once again,

“Okay...let’s play ball?”

“Let’s play.” And the three of you set out to join the rest of the group where they played volleyball.

Jeonghan teamed with three of your three coworkers, Soonyoung, Yuta and Xiaojun. While Seungcheol teamed with your other coworkers, Vernon, Jaehyun and Joshua (yes, the same Joshua). You self appointed yourself as the referee for the round because you obviously didn’t want Jeonghan’s cum splattering out of you while you played.

That would not be ideal in front of your coworkers.

As the round started, you noticed that Seungcheol in particular was putting a little too much effort into this, as if he had something to prove. Which you weren’t wrong, he did. He wanted to prove he was way better than Jeonghan at this (among other things.) but Jeonghan was hitting the ball back with little to no effort.

You watched, amused as the two men on the court played as if no one else was around, as if it was a battle and they had to get past each other to make it to the final round. You think it might

You were right, Seungcheol did have something to prove. He wanted to prove that he was the better one out of the two of them, as if it wasn’t Jeonghan’s cum currently in you.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a LOUD shriek. Only to see that Xiaojun was on the floor, holding his head in his hands while he cried out pathetically.

“Xiaojun what happened!?” You ran towards the man on the floor.

“Seungcheol spiked the ball and it hit Xiaojun’s head” Soonyoung explained hurriedly, jumping in to do a poor attempt of CPR on him (though he’s a lifeguard. You’re not too sure how he got hired in the first place).

“Get off me!” Xiaojun screamed when Soonyoung leaned in to give him mouth-to-mouth.

“I got hit in the head I don’t need CPR idiot”

You did notice though, Seungcheol and Jeonghan were still playing amongst each other, not a clue in the world that they just took Xiaojun out and everyone was crowding around him. Well not anymore, Xiaojun was up and crowded away with Yuta and Soonyoung. You’d assume he was talking mad shit about the man who hit him in the head and didn’t even care to check on him.

Typical Xiaojun.

Also typical Seungcheol.

As the round progressed, Xiaojun and Soonyoung dipped first, going off to get back to their jobs, then Yuta and Jaehyun also went on to do their own things and take care of their shift duties until finally Joshua and Vernon were about to head out too.

“Dude, what the hell is their problem?” Joshua murmured, rolling his eyes at the two men still actively playing ball without noticing the absence of the others.

You shrugged, “They’re both teammates and mad that I’m fucking them both. They both have something to prove to the other” You leaned in closer to whisper to Joshua.

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jeonghan: hi y/n :) you: hi jeonghan :)

jeonghan: i wanna see you :(

you: aw really?

you: my jeonghannie wants to see me o.O

jeonghan: yes :( jeonghan: please?

You snickered as you hit send on the video. A video of you while you were on your knees for a man whose face was not in the frame. With your lips wrapped around his cock - though unable to fully wrap around him. While you hollow your cheeks, lowering further down. The man grips your hair, holding your head still as you gag around his cock.

“You’re such a good girl, taking me like a champ, princess.” He praises you. Hips bucking forward letting out raspy groans.

That’s when he sees it.

What was it? It was a silver ring with the word ‘Ferrari’ engraved on it adorning the man’s pinky finger, identical to the one on his own.

The same ring that only two people would have. Him and his fuckass teammate.

You fucking sent him a video of you sucking off Seungcheol.

jeonghan: is that who i fucking think it is?? jeonghan: be so fucking fr.

jeonghan: i'm coming over.

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“Please give it to me, fuck, Jeonghan,” you stuttered, breaking away from the kiss to whine against his lips. He spent much too long rubbing his tip along your slit and you could not stand it anymore, you needed him in you immediately.

“Why don’t you ask Seungcheol hm? I’m sure he’d give you what you want more than I will” His tone was taunting, he was obviously still bitter about the stunt you pulled earlier. Not that it bothered you though, it just made the sex even more exhilarating. To know that Jeonghan is actually bothered by the video made you feel sort of giddy.

You whined when he sunk barely just the tip inside of you before pulling it out again. Your grip in his hair tightening as you felt the need to have him buried deep in you grow more and more. “Wanna cum on your cock. I wanna feel it inside me so badly. Please. Please give it to me.” You whined more, hoping Jeonghan would give in and he did, pushing into you ever so slowly but he made up for it by pressing his lips onto yours again.

“You know I’m not going easy on you tonight, right?” Your lover of the night bottomed out in you, smiling at the way he could see you going dumb on his cock and he hasn't even done anything yet.

“God, I’d hope not”

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You haven't seen Jeonghan or Seungcheol in two weeks.

Seungcheol has been AWOL but Jeonghan has been texting you nonstop. It was nothing sexual like the first few times he texted you. It was wholesome? Texts full of Jeonghan checking up on you, asking about you, wondering if you had eaten etc.

This time however, Jeonghan texted you something different?

An article.

F1 - Ferrari sealed 1-2 in Silverstone ahead of Kim Mingyu.

you: what the fuck is a 1-2 and why did ur team seal it

jeonghan: i won p1 and seungcheol won p2 jeonghan: party tomorrow jeonghan: ill end the deets. i better see you there

you: wtf?? thats AMAZING jeonghan congrats <33333 you: yeah, send the details ill be there :) you: see you tomorrow!

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You weren’t used to seeing Jeonghan and Seungcheol in the same setting, not after that hell of a volleyball game. And apparently you won't see them together this time around either because you’ve been at this party for half an hour and have seen every other driver on the grid except the two men you actually wanted to see. You decided you’d just sit at the bar and sip on yet another vodka tonic. You watched the rest of the partygoers drink away and dance together while you sat here miserably waiting to find any of your two fuck buddies.

Until you were pulled from your misery by none other than Seungcheol.

“And why do you look so miserable?” He asked, taking a seat next to you. Your face lit up at his voice, “Cheol!” You grinned for the first time since you got here.

“I’ve been by myself all night, Jeonghan invited me but i haven't seen him anywhere” You shrugged. Seungcheol watched as you downed the rest of your drink before he led you away from the main party area, pulling you into a dim corner.

“You know, I’ve been dreaming about your lips on mine since the last time you came over” Your lips curled into a smirk at that, “Yeah? Are you gonna do anything about it?”

Oh, he was.

Seungcheol angles his head to perfectly lower his lips onto yours. Like any kiss with Cheol, it has you dazed and yearning for more, your fingers gripping at his shirt to pull him as close to you as possible.

You both part for air momentarily,looking into eachothers eyes with equally dazed stares. your heart racing from the thrill of making out with him where anyone could catch the two of you, not that you mind, but you’re sure Seungcheol’s career might. Though the thought doesn't last long until Seungcheol searches for your lips again, pressing his mouth hard against yours with not a care in the world as to who may see you.

Except the only person who saw you was none other than Yoon Jeonghan.

There was no word to describe how upset Jeonghan felt at that moment. You came to a party he invited you to, celebrating mainly him, where he spent an hour looking for you and youre making out with his fuckass TEAMMATE?

There were only two people that could save Jeonghan now.

Mingyu and Seungkwan.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

After he had to witness you and his teammate down each other’s throats the other day. Jeonghan is on a mission to win you over. There is no way he’ll let Seungcheol of all people get his girl.

Seungcheol wasn’t even looking to settle, Jeonghan was.

According to your two closest friends, Mingyu and Seungkwan, there were 3 things that Jeonghan could do that would win you over. Which happened to do with the 3 things you loved the most.

Music, Food, Sports.

…Well, that was the only input they gave him. He just had to figure the rest of it out himself.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

First thing: Music.

That was quite…simple? All he had to do was show you his fire music taste!

So the next time he picked you up he’d just blast his tunes in the car and that’d be sure to have you swooning.

Jeonghan rang your doorbell at 7:00pm on the dot. He seemed to have this whole evening planned out and you knew nothing except a text the day before asking if you were free at 7 today and it went on from there. He did specify to dress casual so you wore just a pair of shorts and a black tank top.

“Hey” You smiled wide, opening the door to see an equally casually dressed Jeonghan.

“Hey, you look cute.” You grinned at the compliment, gesturing inside for Jeonghan to come in but instead he just shook his head.

“Let’s go, I’ve got plans for us”

Jeonghan spent a good ten minutes trying to connect his bluetooth to his car, assuring you that you’d love the songs he’s picked out for tonight only to play the most ratchet music you think you’ve ever heard.

“What the hell is this Jeonghan?” You grimaced, appalled by his choice of music

“It’s Mozart!”

“How the fuck does that make it better?”

Jeonghan only sighed and handed you his phone with his music app opened.

“Play whatever you want”

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

Second thing: Food

Jeonghan’s attempt to be…romantic? Was not as successful as you think he’d hoped. His plan was to cook together while sipping wine and have a cute little night.

Cooking with someone was not something you enjoyed.

Jeonghan was on vegetable duty while you were on sauce duty. Though time with Jeonghan was enjoyable, what you did not enjoy was him repeatedly coming in your way while you maneuvered around the kitchen.

“Jeonghan, MOVE” Your frustration reached its max when Jeonghan was hunched over, eyes watery from the onions he was cutting but he was hunched right in the middle of the kitchen, leaving you with no space to pass.

“I CAN’T SEE” He screeched, finding his way over to the sink in an attempt to rinse out his eye.

God, he’s such a dork.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The last part of Jeonghan’s plan was to woo you with Sports.

There was no better sport to enjoy with you other than his own! He’ll just invite you to the race this week!

jeonghan: hey jeonghan: you wanna come to the race this weekend? Its in hungary its gonna run friday-sunday but we arrive on thursday jeonghan: tix on me :)

you: wtf?? of COURSE i want to go :O

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

And just like that, you found yourself in a hotel in Hungary on a random Thursday morning. Well, it wasn’t random, you were invited to the Hungarian Grand Prix by none other than Yoon Jeonghan himself.

Speaking of, Jeonghan had asked if you wanted to go explore the village with him on your off day and who were you to deny an offer like that? So here you were, rushing your makeup at 9 in the morning. Jeonghan was supposed to come to your room at about 9:30 so you have less than thirty minutes to be ready and out the door.

Jeonghan showed up at your hotel room at 9:30 on the dot, wearing a variant of an outfit youve seen him wear a million times, baggy jeans with an oversized shirt. True Jeonghan fashion you’d say.

“Good morning beautiful” He greeted, walking into your hotel room and closing the door behind him before backing you up against the wall.

“Good morning handsome” You can't lie and say you didn't internally cringe at that, no matter how true the words actually were. Jeonghan himself grimaced, his face centimeters away from your own “Never say that again please”

You rolled your eyes, “God forbid a woman try complimenting a man for once”

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You and Jeonghan spent all day exploring the city. Going from coffee shop to coffee shop, spending hours walking aimlessly around and even checking out the track. You enjoyed Jeonghan’s company more than you’d like to admit. Jeonghan was a witty guy. He was funny, hot, really fucking good in bed but most of all he was genuine. That’s one thing you loved about Jeonghan that Seungcheol didn’t have. Where Jeonghan’s intentions with you were clear as day, Seungcheol? You were not too sure what the fuck his intentions were with you.

You knew you weren’t technically supposed to dig this deep into either of them. After all, they were just your fuckbuddies, people you only saw when you were horny and needed release but you still couldn't help but feel more drawn to Jeonghan than you did Seungcheol.

Jeonghan was a genuinely good person whose company you actually enjoyed and you knew he did enjoy yours too. Seungcheol however ignored all your texts until he was the one that needed release and you didn’t have a problem with that until now. Until Jeonghan brought it up.

“You know, I really like spending time with you. Aside from the sex” It came from out of the blue when the two of you were walking back to your hotel.

“So the sex just sucks huh?” You looked at him with a mischievous grin

“You know that’s not what i meant”

“I know, I really enjoy spending time with you too Jeonghan” He smiled at that, pulling you closer by the hip until you were pressed right by his side. The two of you walked in a comfortable silence until he spoke up again.

“You know, you should stop seeing Seungcheol”

You chuckled, this wasn’t the first time Jeonghan has hinted towards how much he doesn’t like you fucking his teammate.

“Yeah, okay”

“I'm serious! It might have to do with the fact im like fucking obsessed with you or the fact that I know Seungcheol doesn’t want you like I do but I swear, the way i want you does not compare to the way he wants you” Your eyebrows raised at that, you knew you prefer Jeonghan over Seungcheol but hearing him tell you why you should pick him over Seungcheol is just all the more satisfying.

“Why do you think so?”

“Because-!” He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands, not wanting to tell you how much he wants you. How he stays up thinking about how it’d be if you were his.

“Because I like you beyond the sex, I want a relationship with you. I don’t wanna have to share you with anyone because I’m greedy and I want you for myself. I wanna show you off as mine without anyone else coming in the way. I want you Y/N”

You stopped in your tracks, prompting him to stop with you as well. “You want to date me?”

“Really fucking bad. Please let me?”

“Okay” You nodded, acting nonchalant on the outside when you were actually going fucking insane on the inside. “I’ll be your girlfriend but only if you ask me out properly” Jeonghan all but jumped for joy, screaming a couple choruses of “YES!!”

“Y/N, light of my life, will you please be my girlfriend?” he playfully rolled his eyes

“I’d love to!” you smiled wide, his own smile mirroring yours before he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, in the middle of a street in Mogyoród.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

The next morning, Seungcheol was just doing his normal pre race rituals when all of a sudden he heard an awful lot of giggling just outside of his room.

What the hell could be so funny right before a race?

He swung his door open only to see Jeonghan sitting on the couch while you sat on his lap, one leg on either side of him while the two of you smooched away like a couple of highschoolers on their first date.

“I think I can come P1 today! After All, I have my beautiful girlfriend here to cheer me on” Jeonghan teased, cupping your face so he can press yet another kiss to your lips.

“Yeah? Good luck out there boyfriend. I’ll be cheering for you”

Girlfriend??? Boyfriend??? Since fucking when? The last time Seungcheol remembers, you were not looking for anything close to even a situationship, let alone a relationship.

That kinda explains it too, you’d been too busy with your stupid boyfriend to return any of his calls or texts for the past few days too. This is exactly why Seungcheol hated couples. Gross.

Screw Yoon Jeonghan, he stole his girl in plain sight.

Well, not really his girl. Realistically Seungcheol was just tryna hit. Much like yourself until you met Yoon fucking Jeonghan.

Cheol knew he wasn't all that upset about the situation but he had to mess with Jeonghan just for the fun of it and man was he geeked.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

You couldnt fucking believe what you were seeing. Today was the day of the first two free practices and the only two drivers on the track who were not behaving were none other than your very own.

Normally, Jeonghan and Seungcheol would stay very…civil during their races but something was off today. Jeonghan was minding his business, leading the race like he usually does until in comes Choi Seungcheol and overtakes him.

So naturally, Jeonghan starts to speed up and get back in the lead. Which lasts maybe a minute until in comes Choi fucking Seungcheol again and runs him off the track.

What the hell was Seungcheol’s problem today?

The race continued to be a mess of Seungcheol messing with Jeonghan, overtaking him then running him off the track and repeating it. You could tell Jeonghan was getting frustrated. Hell, even you were getting frustrated.

Did Seungcheol find out about you and Jeonghan?

God, you’d hope this wasn't the result of Seungcheol’s…jealousy? There really wasn't anything to be jealous about on his end but still, if it was, that’s not okay and you were going to speak to him about it. The race went on like that, with Cheol repeatedly provoking Jeonghan and Jeonghan fighting back. You could hear the chattering of the people around you talking about the two of them and how it was ‘so odd that they’re acting this way!’

As expected, Jeonghan came P1 and Seungcheol came P3. P2 was none other than your best friend, Boo Seungkwan! The race went surprisingly well after the second to last lap and continued to trail behind Jeonghan who was in P1.

“Jeonghan!” You squealed, embracing him in the tightest hug possible but immediately pulling away when you made contact with his sweaty body.

“Baby” He whined, pulling you back into his embrace, ignoring your noises of protest. You gave up the fight without much convincing, hugging him back tight and congratulating him over and over.

“Wait, I’ll be back.”

You excused yourself from Jeonghan and went on to find the one and only..

“Choi Seungcheol!” You muttered, aggressively making your way over to the ever so sweaty man sipping away at his Hydrorace water bottle.

“Hey gorgeous” He cheekily smiled at you, pulling the straw away from his lips. You scoffed, annoyed by how calm he seemed after what he pulled out on the track today.

“Don’t ‘hey gorgeous’ me, what the hell was that on the track today? You know either one of you could have gotten hurt, right?” You were practically fuming.

“You know I'm smart enough to not let either of us get hurt out there right?” He mimicked your tone. Whatever he said didn’t matter in the moment, you were too heated to even think straight.

“Talk to me when you’ve calmed down, Y/N.” And with that, he walked away from you.

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

It was finally time for confrontation.

You pulled out your phone camera to make sure you look decent enough to confront Seungcheol. Once you made sure you looked okay, you tucked it away in your back pocket. Taking a deep sigh before knocking on Seungcheol’s hotel room, waiting for him to open the door. “Hey, Cheol…” You greet hesitantly, stepping inside and closing the door behind you, locking it shut just in case.

“Y/n…it’s so nice to see you!” Seungcheol smiled bitterly. “After you practically blew up on me in front of everyone today.” His fake ass smile dropped.

You grimaced, hiding your face in embarrassment. “Don’t be like that, I just want to apologize.” You offered a small smile.

“Delta time can be time too late, Y/N.”

If there was an embodiment of a question mark, it would be you right now. “You know I don't understand when you use racing speak, Seungcheol.”

“Delta time…anyway, just, don’t worry about it. I know you made your choice. Especially by the way you just full-named me. ”

“Cheol-”

“We had a good run, yeah? don’t worry about it.” He smiled, “This doesn’t mean I don’t want to be friends though you know. I just want you to be happy even if it’s not with me and with my…teammate.” You could sense the lack of sincerity at the end. Seungcheol was not happy about this and you knew that.

“Thank you Cheol” You smiled, opening your arms and offering him a hug which he gladly accepted, engulfing you in the most warm hug you’ve ever received from him.

It wasn’t easy to let Cheol go but you had to do this for Jeonghan.

You were the first to pull away from the hug. You gave him a smile before turning on your heels.

“See you at the race on Sunday?”

“You know it.”

────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────────

“It’s just me and you baby” Jeonghan breathed against your lips, pinning you up against the wall and relishing in the way you sigh out in relief when he finally presses his lips to yours. “Be as loud as you want love”

Jeonghan knew damn well it was not just the two of you, somewhere in one of the stalls was Seungcheol. He was about to walk out when he heard you and Jeonghan at the door and ran into a stall to avoid being caught.

“Please Jeonghan” You whimpered when he pulled away to trail his lips down your neck, “Touch me, please?”

“I am touching you”

“Jeonghan” Your voice raises a pitch. Jeonghan can’t stand it, he loves how your squirm and whimper, so desperate to get fucked by him. Something in him loves how pretty you sound when you beg, especially when you scream his name with your eyes rolling back into your head.

“Please, please fuck me…”

“Shut up.” He groans, proceeding to jackhammer two fingers inside of you. You yelped in surprise, leaning back onto the wall, gripping onto Jeonghan’s arm to hold yourself up. Jeonghan’s other hand trails up and covers your eyes. Hold around your head tight, leaving you more vulnerable to his ministrations.

“I want your cock Jeonghan, please” He loved that your noises were getting louder but he knew that when you finally got his cock you’d be even louder. Just what he wants for your little audience. Jeonghan halts his fingers in you and smears the wetness all over your aching pussy.

“Pussy’s so wet for me, know why?” Jeonghan smirks, “Cause you’re a fucking slut, and all sluts know how to do is take cock.” And without warning, he glides the entirety of his length in at the same time and you were left gasping at the stretch.

“J-Jeonghan..” you moaned loud, “You’re so fucking big. Oh my fucking God.” Jeonghan chuckled, setting a brutal pace from the start. You could never get tired of fucking Jeonghan, every time with Jeonghan bringing you to a new wave of euphoria even you couldnt fathom.

“Yeah? Who fucks you this good huh?” Jeonghan wrapped his hand, previously covering your eyes around your throat and applying just enough pressure to make you see stars. “You, Jeonghan! Only you can fuck me this good” His thrusts were sloppy but they were so hard and deep. Tears rolled down your cheeks with every thrust as your body buzzed with pleasure.

“Good fucking girl” He praised, “You’re so good to me aren’t you?” You couldn’t respond. You don’t think you had it in you to say anymore. Just letting moan after moan leave your lips as you writhed under his hold.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, smiling at the way you attempted to kiss him back.

“My pretty girl, only mine.”

#seventeen smut #jeonghan smut #yoon jeonghan smut #svt smut

1K notes · View notes

k-hotchoisan · 3 months ago

Text

coming home with me

under the dim lights, Choi San realises that he just can’t keep this casual when it comes to you.

genre/warnings: pwp, smut, furcoat!San, is San being toxic??? I guess we’ll never know!, jealous dom! San, unprotected sex, reader is commando, car sex, fingering riding, breeding kink, spanking

a/n: ahoy!! y’alls gotta thank @bro-atz & @skteezcursed for the fic concept 😘 have been overwhelmed with life so I’m presenting this as my compensation ~

w/c: 3.1K

Under the dim lights, your eyes slowly adjust, and much to your delight, you spot the man you’ve been eye candying at a booth. Of course, you knew he was gonna be there considering you’ve been stalking his socials, and casually asking your mutual friends about his favourite hang-out spots.

He’s cute, you think, stealing glances at him from afar, wondering how you should approach him. A coincidence? Maybe stage an accident?

“And what’s the end goal for you with him?” You hear your friend’s voice piercing into your thoughts.

Well, initially, it was mostly a light-hearted flirty thing. You just thought he was cute. All romance sparks started off with the thrill of liking someone. It just hadn’t reached to that point with him yet.

“Maybe play around? I don’t know”, you reply.

Or maybe it was just a farce to keep a certain guy off your mind.

“You know, you don’t have to force yourself”, your friend reminds you, her palm on your hand comfortingly. “You should be direct with him.”

You force a smile back to assure her.

“It’s fine. I’m not gonna do anything foolish.”

You don’t notice the confused expression she’s making at your answer because now you’re thinking if you should just let things unfold naturally. Amidst your pondering, your friend’s elbow nudges you.

“And he’s looking at you”, she says. Your eyes glance up—and she’s right—your little eye candy has seemed to catch your gaze. He smiles even though he’s on the other side of the room. You give him a small wave and he waves back. Then he gestures for you to go down to the dance floor. You’re wondering if you should too as you watch him leave his booth and down the stairs to the crowded floor.

Unfortunately, you let the thought sit for a little too long because when you decide to leave the booth to the floor, you’ve lost him.

Letting the flashing lights and lasers with the decent music from the DJ doesn’t sound like a bad idea.

Soon enough, your eyes filter through the people and you catch your prey. He seems to be talking to someone but he also seems to have noticed your stare before he fully turns to you.

But as you’re steadily maneuvering the crowd to reach him, your eyes meet another man’s—sharp and all too familiar—and it seems as though he’s caught you too.

Your eyes widen and you immediately turn away, fishing your phone from your chest, opening your phone book to speed dial.

You bring your phone up to your ear, turning away from the approaching male deliciously styled in a black fur coat walking towards you, panic obvious in your tone while your friend picks up. You look up at her from the dance floor, eyes wide.

“Babe, you did not tell me that he was here?!” You whisper-shout. You watch your friend’s face widen her eyes before she shrugs.

“Who the hell did you think I was referring to just now? I was talking about Choi San!”

Choi San has had his eyes on you since you settled in your booth. He never thought he would see you out of all the clubs that existed in this town. But despite the slight scowl present on his face when he realises you’re flirting with someone else at the same level booth he is on, there’s a seed of desire that’s lodged in his heart, that maybe he has a chance.

But first, he has to get rid of your little eye candy.

San’s eyes trail your movements carefully—from the way you bat your eyelashes at the other male from the other booth, then to the way you stare after him as he walks down to the floor.

How have you not noticed him yet?

He stays put on the sofa, silently counting down how much longer it’d take for your eyes to rake over the rest of the booths to reach him.

Unfortunately, it only leaves him frustrated, and even tenfold when you leave your seat while your eyes search for him on the dance floor.

Guess he has to do it his way then.

He pushes past the wave of people, still locked onto you under the dim lights

The satisfaction that floods into his brain when your eyes meet his, his ears slowly tuning out the music, and he watches the way you eyes widen when you finally take notice of him from a distance.

And then you turn away. San cocks his eyebrow in confusion and irritation, and his footsteps towards you quicken.

Then he stops in his tracks once more.

Dear god, something might break today if he gets interrupted one more fucking time.

Your attention is stolen by your little eye candy. He got to you before San could.

You’re well-aware that you’re being stared down by a certain male from your peripherals, and that certainly wasn’t stopping you from pretending that he’s part of the air molecules, although not the easiest task when he’s boring a hole into your head.

You look back at your eye candy, plastering a pretty smile.

The both of you sink into small talk, leaning in closer in an attempt to hear each other over the music. You’re listening to him, but your attention remains on someone else. Someone who’s not hiding that he’s stealing glances at you.

“Do you wanna go somewhere private?” You hear him ask into your ear. His arm is snaking around your waist, and your interest is waning.

You’re ready to reject him, and you jolt slightly when you feel a bigger pair of hands slide across your back replacing the unfamiliar warmth.

“She’s got afterparty plans”, San answers curtly. It’s an automatic response that you swallow hard when let your eyes rake over San. His hair is slicked back, letting a couple strands fall past his eyes. He’s smug with the corner of his lips curled up. Maybe it’s the confidence that you hate about him, but like a moth drawn to a flame, you can’t seem to stay away from him.

You see the way the male tuts, then force a smile. “No worries. We’ll see each other soon, yeah?”

You nod, already losing him in the crowd, mostly because Choi San has your full attention.

Even under the dim lights, Choi San looks stunning. You realise you’re royally fucked when your eyes trail to the star of the show—the fact that San isn’t wearing anything underneath his fur coat. That piece of apparel somehow makes him look bigger, and it’s driving you insane. Well, if the tension escalates, he might get a surprise if you’re feeling generous enough. But right now, he’s eyeing you down like a predator, and it’s making you fall into his spell.

His arm isn’t leaving your back. He’s leaning in closer, making sure you hear his words loud and clear in your ear.

“That’s your type?”

You do your best to hide the effects he’s having on you—ignoring heat pooling between your thighs.

Your fingers play with the soft fur as he leans in and waits for your answer. He smells so fucking good.

You shrug, and that only bubbles his irritation further. His grip on your waist tightens slightly.

“Answer me, darling”, he pushes, his palm sliding lower down.

“Maybe. We had a nice chat before you cut in. Seemed like a decent person.”

San furrows his eyebrows.

“What if he’s not a good person? Does that mean any guy that has a nice conversation with you a good person?”

His other arm is snaking around the back of your neck and he definitely feels your goosebumps. He’s forcing you to look at him.

“San”, you huff, mentally bracing yourself from falling for his charms again. “And on what grounds do you have to be saying all of this?”

“As your best friend?”

You scoff, with a roll of your eyes. Painful to tear away from his chiseled body just peeking out.

San can’t seem to pinpoint it—for some reason, the interaction you had with your eye candy pricked him so much. But why? You and he have always been fooling around, leaving feelings at bay so it wouldn’t “complicate things”. But obviously after tonight, something clicked, and San is very sure he doesn’t like you to be around other men that aren’t him.

“I’m leaving, Choi San. It’s hard to hear you with all these people around”, you make up the excuse, smacking his arm away with much reluctance, only for him to snatch you back once more. San makes sure you hear him loud and fucking clear when he leans into your ears.

“We should go somewhere private then.”

Your moan in the kiss sets him off. Your hands trail up his bare body, and his hands are on your thighs.

Fucking you in his car wasn’t San’s preference—he prefers a little more space— but he’s not complaining when he has you slowly unravel right before him, forced to press yourself against him even with the seat reclined and his thick erection is just shameless pressing against your body con dress.

His fingers slip under your dress, and he groans when he feels your bare pussy—wet, puffy and just ready.

And for some reason, it pisses him off when thought of your eye candy being the one to discover this instead of him.

“Just how much of my buttons are you gonna push tonight, princess?” He asks rhetorically, his sharp eyes locked onto yours, trying not to snap from how wet you are.

You steady yourself on his lap, your mind slowly growing blank whenever his thick fingers graze your clit and past your sopping hole.

“You were just begging to be fucked, huh?” San asks with his fingers circling so close to your pussy.

“San!-“

“Tell me then: who were you hoping to fuck you stupid tonight?”

Your begs come in the forms of soft whimpers, and a sob rips from you when he plunges two thick fingers in, filling you up so fucking full.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

His fingers fucking your cunt isn’t helping you think.

You know there’s no way around this. As much as you hated to admit, San always seemed to have the upper hand. Nonetheless, your unintentional plan had roused a side of him you’ve never seen before.

“I’m waiting.”

It takes almost all of your strength to focus on answering him, and it’s making you frustrated because he’s intentionally missing the spot that he knows can send you seeing the stars.

“You”, you answer meekly.

“Can’t hear you, sweetie.” His fingers press against your g-spot, and you lean closer to his body on reflex, your hands gripping his fur coat. You could just smack the smug look off Choi San if he didn’t have two fingers stuffed in you.

“You! Oh, fuck-” You cry out when he misses your g-spot on purpose once more.

“Right answer, sweetie. You deserve a reward for being a good girl, hm?”

You can’t even answer. His thumb is rubbing on your clit, it sends electricity all over in the best way possible on top of his fingers hitting your sweet spots over and over again. The wet sounds of your pussy squelching only bring up the thick tension.

“Look at you, tightening up like this. Are you gonna cum for me?” His voice drops an octave, lulling you closer to your impending orgasm. You hate the way he knows every nook and cranny of your body as if it’s his. You just really cannot escape him.

His words continue to edge you closer.

“Oh, that’s a good fucking girl. Keep squeezing my fingers like that. I’m the only one who makes you feel this fucking tight, right?”

You fucking hate Choi San.

Cream seeps past his fingers from your hole when your orgasm brings your vision to white. Your moans fill up the car when it wrecks your body in waves, your nerves flooding with pleasure over and over.

And San isn’t letting you leave the damn car, not until you’re screaming his name.

He’s not faring any better himself and he could just get off just by watching you cum all over him like that.

His fingers leave your soaking cunt, slightly pruning with strings of your cum in between his fingers. While you catch your breath, San forces you to watch him lick his sticky fingers clean while his free hand shifts your fingers to his bulging erection that’s just begging to be let out. He’s grown so fucking hard that you wonder if it hurts.

You unbutton and unzip his trousers, then push yourself to the side towards the car door to give him enough space so he’s able to fully remove his trousers. You can’t help but worry if the both of you would be caught, even though San assured you that he parked at a secluded spot. Your eyes dart to the windows, noticing how it’s beginning to grow foggy.

Oh. It’s about to get a lot more foggy.

San’s touch pulls you out of your thoughts. Although you’ve fucked many times, the sheer fucking size of his cock never fails to make you swallow hard.

Your hands wander up his tits as you settle back down onto his thighs. The realisation hits you then—the only clothing article Choi San has on right now is his fucking fur coat.

He catches onto your stare and smiles in response.

“Why? Is the thought of getting fucked by your favourite person wearing a fur coat getting you excited?”

You narrow your eyes at him, and you palm his bare, thick, and sticky cock, making San groan in reply.

��Favourite? What makes you think you’re my favourite?”

He chuckles and makes your heart flutter.

“Many things, sweetheart. Just as you’re mine.”

You’re really gonna end up losing to him, huh?

You lift your hips instead, lining up to his cockhead, and then letting San guide your hips down his fat cock, making you take him inch by inch. You bite your lip at the feeling of his cock filling you up so disgustingly good, and San has his eyes screwed shut, a strained groan leaving his lips when your warmth envelops him so fucking good.

“That’s it. You’re so fucking warm and tight for me”, San mutters in pleasure through half-lidded eyes.

Riding San sometimes feels too much for you, in the best fucking ways possible because he’s all the way in, and he knows that very well—how easily you get sensitive and squirmy just from sitting on his cock.

You slowly bounce off his cock, grabbing his shoulders for leverage. He likes that you have to lean into him while he fucks you from below so he can whisper the most dirty things into your ear just to make you clench around him.

His palms slide down your ass, following the momentum of you bouncing off his cock, then landing a tight slap against your skin to hear your gasp and feel you tighten on his cock.

The sting feels so fucking good that another slap has your pussy leaking cream all over his cock once more.

“S-San! If you keep doing that-“ you cry, another slap to your ass making you jolt, sinking even deeper into his cock.

“That’s your punishment for flirting with another man in front of me like that”, his voice buzzing in your ear.

Another smack.

Your thighs are trembling from the overstimulation.

One more smack.

Your mind is about to shut off. San’s cock is pressing against your g-spot with even more pressure than his fingers.

The windows have completely fogged up.

“San, please. Oh my fucking god. Gonna fucking cum”, you whine, arms tight around his neck, intoxicated with the smell of his musk mixed with his cologne.

San’s grunts fill your ears when your second orgasm drowns you again, your cunt pulsing uncontrollably around him, cream just pooling at the base of his cock. He groans and buries his nose into your neck, his mind fuzzy from how close his orgasm is.

“I’m gonna cum in you. Wanna plug your pussy hole full of my cum.

And you’re gonna take all of it like a good girl.”

“Yes, please”, you reply, much to his pleasant surprise. So his large hands hold your legs down, listening to you whine while his cock fills you up endlessly with warm and thick cum with moans escaping his lips every few seconds from how fucking good he feels.

He pushes you off his body gently, his eyes reflecting the hearts in your glazed-out eyes. His thumb brushes against the corner of your lips and he pushes his thumb past your lips.

“Such a good fucking girl, letting me fill you up with my load. Does it feel good?”

You nod, twitching slightly from the overstimulation since he still has you stuffed full of both dick and cum. San wants to keep this sight of you in his brain forever—sucking on his finger, sweating with him post-orgasm, staring down at him with watery eyes while his cum just leaks past your puffy pussy hole even though his cock is plugging your cunt.

San pulls you into a deep kiss, and you reciprocate it in between breathless pants and sighs.

“Fuck. I think I’m in love”, he mutters loud enough for you to hear.

You don’t know how to answer to that, but you feel your face flushing. He grabs the tissues stowed in the storage compartment and quickly cleans the both of you up after he lifts you off his softening cock.

You instinctively shift to the passenger seat, and San removes his fur coat to cover you. You watch him grab a black tank top from the back seat, then fit his trousers over his thighs.

He rolls down the windows despite the air-con running, just to rid the smell of sex.

You wrap his coat closer to you when the night breeze kisses your cheeks.

“So, are you gonna send me home?” There’s a strange tint of hope you have that he’d decline.

San stares at you with an expression that confuses you—one that makes you wonder if you had said something weird. Then he smiles after that.

“You’re coming home with me, sweetheart”, San tells you as he loops his tank top over his head before he switches gear to move out.

“It’s gonna be a long night for the both of us.”

taglist:

@bro-atz @skteezcursed @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @haleyjoy @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3 @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike @woojirang @yuyusgirl

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yeonzzzn · 3 months ago

Text

book lovers ; park jongseong

pairing: booknerd/bf!jay x booknerd!afab!reader word count: 3.2k synopsis: when your book loving boyfriend has you read a specific part of the current book you’re reading out loud to him. warnings: book reading shenanigans, swearing, SMUT, marking, dry humping, praising, hair pulling, fingering, unprotected sex, finger sucking, cum eating, slight choking, lmk if I missed anything, MINORS DNI!! specially dt to: @niki-riki-nishimura-riki 🩵

Of course, it would be on the top shelf. Why wouldn’t it be?

You tucked your button lip between your teeth, glancing around the bookstore to see if any ladder or step stool was available, and to your dismay, there wasn’t.

And as much as you’d love the climb up these shelves like a fucking gremlin, you hold yourself back and instead stand on your tippy toes to reach as high as the length of your arm would let you. It's not your fault you’re a short queen.

Or that you already have a stack of books in your other arm tucked closely to your body that may or may not be another reason you can’t reach the top shelf.

Who are you kidding, it’s honestly just because you’re short.

You feel with another willpower and praying, your fingers will grab the spin of the book and pull it from the shelf. Once you can get a grip, it’s being pulled from the shelf—but not by you.

With confusion written on your face, you turn to grab the book, slowly placing both feet back firmly on the ground. The one who grabbed it was incredibly handsome. Dark hair and black glasses pushed up his nose, his hair falling over the frames as he looked at the cover of the book, blue button-up long-sleeved that was rolled up to his elbows, and black slacks. He finally looks up at you, a small smile curling up.

“You know, I was caught between if I should continue to watch you struggle—and laugh, or to help you,” you raised a brow at him, damn tall people, “I chose the ladder.”

“Obviously,” you mumble, reaching for the book as he extends it out to you, “But thank you for deciding to help me.”

He smiles more, eyes drifting to your book in the other arm, “Nice book haul you have there,” he points to the books and you all of a sudden forget what you even had in your arms.

You quickly glance down, seeing a few volumes of manga, a new fantasy book your best friend recommended, a popular fiction title, and lastly, the book you were having trouble reaching, “Uh thanks,” you say, looking back up at him, and noticing his own couple books in his arm, “You have good taste as well.”

“Ah! Thanks!” he glances down at the carpeted floor, “Not every day you meet someone with the same book interests as yourself.”

Now it was your turn to smile, “Yeah, really is hard to find nowadays.”

He made eye contact with you and you swore your heart stopped, lips parting slightly. His dark orbs really drew you in. Until he places his index finger on the book he grabbed for you, “Pretty cute covers like these always have the nastiest smut in them.”

Your face heats up. With a grin, he turns and starts to walk away, “You’d know, wouldn’t you!” You shout, loving the way he turns back around and gives you a wink.

“Obviously!” he shouts as he is further away, “We like the same genres.”

You don’t know what came over you, because the next you knew, you were shouting even more, “YN!”

“Jay!” he replies, tilting his head towards the check out, “Let me buy your books, YN.”

A year and a half later, you still get Jay’s heart racing just like when you two first met. He’s hooked on you. Absolutely fucking hooked. You were also completely hooked on him too. Not even hesitating to let him buy your books that day and even agreeing to get coffee with him afterward. Which obviously led to exchanging phone numbers, book recs, and eventually make-out sessions after meeting up a few times. The two of you just fit so well, two pieces of a perfect puzzle. Of course, it was meant to be and of course, you said yes when he asked you to be his girlfriend, how could you not when he showed up to your doorstep with a bag of books from your to-be-read list and a bouquet of your favorite flowers and your favorite coffee two months after meeting.

Jay just couldn’t get enough of you. You are his every waking and sleeping thought. So it only made sense for him to ask you to move into his studio apartment with him nine months into your relationship. It was the second easiest thing he’s ever done, the first being buying your books that first day.

The hardest thing though, was adding your book collection to his. You had to buy a second shelf just so all your books had a home. But Jay didn’t mind one bit. Honestly, it gave him a reason to not buy even more books and to just steal from your stack.

It’s the perfect relationship, truly.

You are lying comfortably on your stomach in bed, swinging your legs back and forth with your nose in your recent read. It’s a mixture of fantasy and romance with some HEAVY smut scenes. You truly had no idea this book had so much graphic sexual content, but hey! You’re not complaining!

The two main protagonists were starting to get steamy when the front door unlocked. You turn and glance over your shoulder, smiling up at your boyfriend as he walks in the door, “Welcome back home, Seongie.”

Jay gives you his loving smile, “Good to be back, baby,” he glances down to the book in your hands, kicking his shoes off as he closes the door behind him, “Did you make a trip to the bookstore today?”

You nod, turning back to your book, “I even got that new sci-fi book you were talking to Heeseung about the other day. I was fixing to head to the checkout when I noticed it on one of the new release tables. Thought you’d appreciate it.”

And oh god did he appreciate it more than words could express, “Thank you so much, baby,” he whispers, leaning over the bed to press a kiss to your forehead, “What are you reading anyway?” You didn’t stop him nor did you stop reading as he tilted the book to look at the cover, “You’re such a pervert.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, “As if, do I need to remind you of all the smut books on your shelf?”

In any normal relationship, one would get embarrassed to be caught or find their partner reading something smutty, but thankfully your relationship with Jay isn’t normal. Both of you read sexual books all the time. Never once has it bothered either of you. Maybe it’s because your sex life was fucking fantastic and you both felt comfortable and secure with each other and sex that it wasn’t—nor ever will be—a problem.

Jay chuckles and you continue your read, the two protags are finally getting it on and you need to know how it ends.

Obviously, it piqued your boyfriend's interest on how good this sex scene has to be that you continued reading even though he just got home from a very long workday. So he leaned further into the bed, placing one hand on the other side of you and tilting his head against the top of yours.

Fuck.

His pants suddenly grew tighter against him. No wonder your interest was so attached to this book at the moment. He doesn’t blame you one bit.

But now he has a problem, and the idea that just slipped through his brain is too good to pass up.

Jay pulled your hair to the side, kissing from your temple and down to your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth, just like the male protagonist is currently doing in the book. You lean into him, knowing exactly what he is doing and still gripping the book in your hands.

“Jay,” you breathe.

“Read it out loud,” he whispers, flattening his tongue against the now purple mark he’s left on your skin and laying his body against yours. His hard length pressing to your ass, “Read out the steps to me, baby.”

With a shaky voice, you read out what the male protagonist is doing to the female protagonist. Jay’s hands move up and down your body like in the book. Squeezing your sides as he sucks more of your skin between his teeth on your neck. Leaving more and more love marks scattered around your skin.

You’re already dizzy by just his kisses and touch. You’ve only ever dreamed about recreating sexual acts from your books and the fact it’s happening right now, the exact way you’re reading out loud, how could you not be dizzy?

“Keep reading, baby,” he bites the shell of your ear, grinding his hips against your ass, his cock twitching between your perfect cheeks. His head spun knowing you aren’t wearing any panties under your shorts.

Jay, honestly, has been wanting to spice up your sex life for a while now. Not that sex with you wasn’t fantastic already, or even in need of changing. He personally just wants to find more ways to pleasure you. To fulfill your every fantasy. What better way than to create the acts in this book?

“H-he’s wrapping her hair in his fist,” you barely make out, feeling a shift in the bed as your boyfriend pulls your hair back, twisting it around his hand, his lips not leaving your body, “P-pull it.”

Jay hums against your neck, pulling your hair, forcing you to crank your head to the side, exposing your neck even more to him, sinking his teeth back into your skin.

You close your eyes, relishing how good this feels, dropping the book onto the pillow. But the feeling is short-lived once Jay catches wind of this, loosening his grip on your hair and removing his mouth from your neck, “Stop reading, and I stop too.”

“Take my clothes off,” you quickly mumble, picking the book back up and focusing on the words on the page, “He’s removing her clothing…please.”

Jay smirks, his warm fingertips brushing against your skin at your hips, moving up your body. Goosebumps rise on your skin from his touch, “Such a good girl, baby,” he praises you, your shirt now bunched just below your breasts, “What position are they in?”

You bite your tongue, skimming to the top of the page where you first saw it, “Her back is pressed to his chest.”

With a yank of your hair still in his fist, your back was now pressed tightly against his, his cock now gently grinding against your lower back. Jay dropped your hair to place both hands on you, slowly lifting your shirt above your breasts, fingers gently gliding over them, “My next step?”

Your hands tremble as you continue to read the page, giving him step by step on what is happening. Your shirt is now thrown across the room along with Jay’s shirt and pants, leaving him in his boxers and bare chest to your back. Hands cupping your breast and squeezing them in motion of his hips grinding against you.

He did each step you read, leaving now your bare bodies touching, his teeth once again sinking into the skin of your neck just below your ear. One hand squeezed your breast while the other snaked down to your clit, rubbing soft circles. With shaky hands, you turned the page, barely being able to do that simple task as your boyfriend abused your swollen clit, and your nipple now being flicked and pinched between his thumb and index finger.

You honestly just wanted him to fuck you already. Your cunt clenching around nothing and your head going dizzy from the amount of moaning and heavy breathing you’re doing, trying so hard to keep yourself upright.

“Seongie, please,” you beg, “Please.”

Jay shifts his face to the other side of your neck, satisfied with all the red and purple marks on the other side and knowing damn well the male character is very much still marking up his female. Jay secretly has been reading along with you. How could he not? This was hot as fuck to him, “Please, what, baby?” He knows what you want. But you’re not getting it until it happens in the book, “Be a good girl and keep reading. You’ll get what you want, my sweet girl.”

Jay skimmed the next line on the page, “He slowly removes his finger from my clit,” Jay read out loud, “Continue it.”

You swallow, “And slide the middle and ring fingers into my—ahh!” You don’t even get to finish the sentence, feeling your boyfriend’s fingers pushing between your gummy walls and curling them up onto your spot. Pumping them quickly in and out.

To be honest, Jay was also starting to get impatient. His precum covered your lower back and left a string connecting each time he rutted against you. He’s already read far enough ahead on the page to know exactly when he gets to fuck you. And it’s so so close.

“Such a good girl, baby,” he moans into your ear, grinding against you faster in movement with his fingers. You fling your head back on his shoulder. He raised his shoulder to push your head back up, “Keep reading. What do I do to you next?”

With slightly blurry vision, you focus on the words on the page, “Fingering until my pussy is dripping cum down my thighs and your fingers, you picking up your pace.”

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes, pressing your body tightly against him, shoving his digits in and out faster than before. Your whole body is squirming against him. Your moans fill the apartment along with strings of fuck and his name. Continuing his movements of abusing your hole until you once again fling your head back against his shoulder, dropping the book to the store and thighs squeezing his hand as you came unglued.

And sure enough, your cum dripped down both your thighs and covered his hand.

Jay slowly pulled his fingers from your soaked hole, collecting your essence and raising his two fingers to his lips, sticking his tongue out and wrapping it around them. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he sucks his own fingers, completely losing it at the taste of your cum.

Jay couldn’t wait anymore. The book was long pushed to the back of his mind. Not that he needed to read it anymore anyway, he knew exactly what to do.

And no longer had the patience to wait.

One moment you were pressed against your boyfriend, the next you were face first into the pillows, your hips hiked up and Jay’s legs spreading yours apart. Yessss, this was exactly what you wanted. What you’ve craved for since the moment he started touching you and reading out loud to him.

“Yes, babe,” you moaned into the pillows, turning your head just enough to look at his face, seeing the look of pure lust and want on him. His eyes burn with the desire to tear you apart and leave nothing left once he’s done with you. And oh good fucking god you want him to destroy you, “Fuck me to pieces, oh god Jay please!”

Oh was this music to his ears. Jay pressed his chest to your back, licking at the shell of your ear, his hand stroking himself slowly, “Yeah, YN? Do you want my cock that bad? Want me to split you open?”

You nod fiercely, gripping at the bedsheets. Rough sex with Jay always left you unable to walk after, but with how he is right now, you knew you’d barely be able to survive this time.

Not another second was wasted as he pushed his cock inside you. Both hands gripping your hips, fucking into you at a fast pace. You arch your back and press your ass as much as you could to him, his hip bones surely were going to leave bruises against your cheeks. Not that you cared, you welcomed any marks you received from him during sex.

“Fuck! Jay!” you whine, knuckles turning white from your grip on the sheets.

Jay knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not from the amount of grinding he did on your back earlier and at his quick pace right now. But he can’t help it. You feel so fucking good and he loves how well his cock slides in and out of your cunt from how wet you are for him. He needed to cum. Now.

With a pull of your hair, your back is pressed to his chest. One hand slightly grips your neck while the other finds your clit again, “I’m fixing to cum, baby,” he breathes into your ear, sending chills down your body, “Can you cum for me again? Can you give me one more?”

You try your best to answer verbally but settle for another nod, taking a deep breath in the best way you can with your airways being slightly constricted but it still has your cunt clenching tightly around his cock, sucking him perfectly.

His tip kisses your cervix with each sloppy thrust and fingers aggressively circling your clit, the knot in your tummy ready to burst for the second time of the night.

“J-Jay,” you manage to push out, “Cu-cum..I’m cumming.”

Jay leans his head against yours, “Fuck me too, oh fuck me too baby girl.”

Your second organism releases at the same time his cum fills you whole. His hips slapped against your ass to a halt, making sure every last drop of cum spilled into your cunt. Jay moans out your name, slightly tightening his fingers around your neck until he comes down from his high and pulls out. With a shift motion, he collects the mixture of both your cum onto his fingers, “Can’t waste this, can we, YN?”

His fingers come into your vision and on instinct, you open your mouth wide and tongue hanging out, ready for the salty and sweet taste of his fingers and both your cum to fill your taste buds. And oh man does it have you reeling once the digits fill your mouth. Your lips close around him, tongue swirling around and between his fingers, sucking up every last drop.

You pout once his fingers are removed, and pout even more when the cold air touches your back from his disappearance.

You barely can drop to your knees and twist around to see the beautiful and sexy naked back half of your boyfriend standing at the bookshelf.

“Jay?” you call for him, swallowing your spit to soothe your now dry mouth, “Are you looking for something?”

He has a smirk on his face as he turns around, a new book in his hand, “This one has the nastiest fuck scene. You down for round two?”

Not even waiting for your answer, you’re being pulled to the edge of the bed, Jay now kneeling in front of you, the open book being shoved into your hands. You glance down to see the first line, the male character starting off eating his wife's pussy.

Jay spreads your shaking legs apart, leaving gentle love bites on your thigh, “Go ahead, YN. Read.”

—taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns

@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi

@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty

@ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @vixialuvs @onlyhyunjin

@enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng

@moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae

@kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

@moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @surrik-i

@heeseungsbm @star-hoon

#jay bae #jongseong park #park jongseong #park jongseong smut #jay #jay park #park jay #par jay smut #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #reader x enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #yeonzzzn writing

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jj-one · 8 months ago

Text

HATE YOU

this is smut, do not interact if under 18

pairing: enemies to lovers ? (sorta one-sided tho), college au, fuckboy!jungkook x f!reader genre/tags: smut, angst, alcohol usage, dirty talk, lowkey perverted!jk, fingering, piv, unprotected sex (oof), drunk sex, public sex (reader & jk do it at a house party), riding, video recording **pls don’t do none of this irl LMAO words: 2.7k

**old repost from my deleted blog

Hate is a strong word— at least that’s what people try and say. You meant it though, it was a word you didn’t use lightly. Especially when it came to your opinion on 99% of the male population at your school. You couldn’t stand most of them, they all just wanted one thing. Getting into your pants.

You despised hook-up culture with a passion and it didn’t help that most guys who tried talking to you were all the same. You had a special hatred for a particular individual the most though— Jeon Jungkook from your physics class. He was the most arrogant, conceited, egotistical person you’ve ever met your whole life.

Every class he would have a different girl with him wrapped around his arm, walking him to the door like he’s some kind of royalty. The way almost every girl would swoon over him just because he’s good looking was baffling to you. Yeah he may have a pretty face but does that cancel everything else out? Of course not. You’ll never understand why these women would choose to go after someone like him, you felt embarrassed for them honestly.

“Jungkook, meet me after class I’ll be waiting for you!” Some girl shouted through the door to get his attention.

He was sitting two seats from you, looking at his phone while paying no mind to the obvious screaming being directed to him. He was so full of himself it was ridiculous.

“Hey y/n, what’re you doing tonight?”

That voice startled the hell out of you. Who gave Jungkook the right to even be speaking to you right now? Looking over in his direction, you give him an empty stare.

“Why do you care?” You said harshly.

It makes no sense why he would even try talking to you, you’ve never given him any indication you liked him.

“Sheesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” he chuckles, “you should pull up to my party tonight!” You wanted to almost physically gag at the wink he just gave you.

“I’m good.” You shut him down quickly and try moving on but he doesn’t let you off that easy.

“You sure? The whole schools practically gonna be there, you don’t wanna miss out on all the fun do ya?” That annoying smirk on his face was really starting to irritate you.

“I said I’m good, I’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties.”

“I think you got me mixed up with someone else, my parties are always lit. If you have a change of heart though, I’ll make sure to show you a real good time.”

You scoff, utterly disgusted by his last comment, just about everything he said had sexual undertones to them. His humor was weird and extremely perverted which heavily pissed you off. You couldn’t wait for this class to be over.

“We’re almost here!” Yuna exclaims in the passenger seat.

You were in the back with two of your other friends as you were headed to a party. You weren’t totally up for partying tonight but ultimately your friends were able to convince you to go. You don’t even know where the party is but maybe it’s good to get your mind off things.

“Oh, by the way who’s party is this?” You ask suddenly as Lisa pulls into a driveway.

The car got silent for a second, no one answered your question. It was a bit odd to you the way they all froze up.

“Actually… it’s Jungkook’s party…” Lisa finally spoke, her eyes kept trailing away from you.

“What the fuck? Of all places you choose to go you pick him?!” You felt so betrayed.

They really drove you all the way here just to trick you into coming and now you have no escape plan. They all begged and pleaded for you to suck it up and let loose for just one night. You finally agreed but only under the condition that you want to be far away from him as possible.

“Why do you even dislike him so much? You would think he had murdered someone or something!” Your friend asks.

“I just think he’s a pretentious asshole that doesn’t deserve all the hype he gets.”

They just shrug your opinion off and get out the car. You huff as you open the door and head to the party with the rest of them.

You instantly felt claustrophobic once you go inside. There were crowds of people everywhere. Jungkook was right, everyone at the school was practically here. Loud rap music was blaring through the speakers, red solo cups scattered the floor, people getting sloppy drunk or stoned; the perfect stereotypical house party.

You haven’t seen him yet so that was a good sign and you go up to the kitchen to get drinks with Lisa. 20 minutes pass by now and Lisa was left out of your sight. You have no idea where she could’ve run off to and now you have to search the place to find your friends.

Heading outside into the backyard, your balance was becoming unstable from the alcohol in your system. You were taking shots of Hennessy back to back and it caught up to you faster than you could blink. You sat down on one of the lawn chairs since your head was starting to feel really heavy. You felt a sudden tap behind your shoulder and hear a voice that even when you’re drunk, you can sense with disdain.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t little miss ‘i’d never show up to one of your dumb ass parties!’” Jungkook teases while coming from behind you.

“Get the hell away from me!” You lean away from him to leave you alone but he only came closer.

“This is my house so I don’t need to go anywhere, if anything I think I should kick you out for being so mean to me.” His face inched towards yours further, putting you in an uncomfortable position.

You don’t know why your body felt paralyzed though, it was probably just from all the alcohol inebriating your mind.

“You know, I never understood why you actually hate me. I never hurt you did I?” He says, slightly cocking his head to the side.

His tattooed hand landed on your knee, just planting it there while keeping strong eye contact. You couldn’t speak for some reason, it was as if an enormous lump has formed and got caught inside your throat. He looks down at the skirt you’re wearing and bites his lip, playing with his lip ring.

“Why aren’t you talking? You usually have a lot to say to me, why so quiet now sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?” He continues speaking in that condescending tone of his and you’ve had enough now.

“I fucking hate your guts Jungkook, I absolutely despise you. You’re a cocky, perverted fuckboy that needs to be humbled and finally put in your place!” You snap back at him while pushing his hand away.

“Woah girl chill out, that was a bit harsh don’t ya think? Also, I’d love for you to put me in my place any day.” Yet again, he never fails to make a sexually charged comment.

“You’re disgusting, seriously get help!” You attempt to get up from the lawn chair but he pushes you back down.

“You know, I’ve always liked my girls a little feisty. I find it hot when girls yell at me.”

Either this man has a humiliation kink or is just plain stupid— either way you don’t want to be anywhere near him but he wouldn’t let you leave.

“Please just go away Jungkook, I don’t want you in my sight anymore.”

“Really? Because if that were true then you would’ve been left already,” his hand went to stroke the side of your hair “seems like you really don’t want me to leave.”

His other hand went back to your knee again but slowly trails up to your thigh and goes under your skirt this time. You were surprised within yourself that you were even letting this happen. He leans in to your face, being just a few inches away from his lips. You became almost in a trance by those pink, pillowy lips. You don’t know what came over you but you grab his face and messily kiss him. The movement of your lips colliding and syncing together as he deepened the kiss. He sensually touches your thigh while you moan into the kiss and he squeezes your thigh tightly in response. Looking around to see all the people still here when you pull away from him; you can’t fathom you just made out with Jungkook in front of all these goddamn people. You just lost all respect for yourself.

“You know I’ve always secretly had a crush on you y/n?” Jungkook admits, “I kinda like it when girls are mean to me. Or maybe I just like it when you’re mean, I haven’t figured it out yet.”

“Let me show you how mean I can get then.” You reply, staring up at him with hungry eyes.

That cheesy grin never leaving his face as he hears you speak. The tension only grew thicker and he wasn’t about to waste another second.

“Sit on my lap.” He uses his hands to maneuver you and leans back in the chair.

You drunkenly stumble on top of him, feeling him against you. Your body heat raised through the roof but this time you were sure it wasn’t because of the liquor. You straddle his lap as you go back to hastily making out. His wandering hands kept slipping down to your ass to squeeze it and you were starting to feel dizzy from the way he was kissing you. You feel his touch under your skirt to play with you some more, not caring if anyone’s looking at this point.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.. not here at least. Too many people.” You say when pulling away from his lips.

“I really don’t give a fuck, it’s my party let them watch. Let’s put on a good show for everyone, yeah?”

You know this goes beyond against every moral you’ve had before. You’re about to do the one thing you told yourself that you’d never do.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” Agreeing to go along with his narrative.

He lets you in charge now, letting you have full control over the way you get to ride him. You push your panties to the side and he undoes his pants to free his fully hard member. You didn’t realize how much of a nice cock he has, it was well groomed and had the perfect size/width.

“You have a really pretty dick, must I say.” You still can’t believe these words are being said to Jungkook.

“Thanks baby, I can’t wait for it to be in that pretty little pussy of yours.”

He drags two of his fingers down to your core and swipes in a circular motion, smearing the wet slick as he watches your mouth open wide with pleasure. His digits sink into your cunt harshly, pushing them deeper and deeper.

“Fuck! Your fingers feel too good…” you hid your face in his shoulder as he splits you open.

Your eyes hung low and your mind was hazy. Unable to think straight, you just wanted to feel Jungkook inside of you already.

“Need to fuck you nowww!” You yell, almost sounding a bit whiny.

“So do it then cutie. Come fuck yourself on my cock.”

He withdraws his digits out of you and licks the juices off them one by one. His grin would only get wider as you lowered yourself on his cock. You were so soaking wet you sunk down on him easily while resting your hands around his shoulders to brace yourself a bit before moving. Once you regain focus you slide up and down on his shaft nice and slow; making him bite his lip, moan, and curse under his breath.

“Your pussy feels so good… so tight… fuck..” his mind was going blank as you pick up a steady pace.

You were so out of it by now that you were bouncing on his cock in a frenzy. He roughly thrusted his hips back into you while you sloppily rode him. The way he filled you up felt like you were in heaven. You open your eyes for a second, forgetting that you were at a party. Almost everyone was looking at you, some people even took out their phones to record the scene in front of them. It was probably all the alcohol you drank but you didn’t even care anymore, you continued savagely riding him. You’re moaning louder as you slam down into him harder, pulling his body closer to yours. He loudly grunts from your walls aching around him, his cock was throbbing so intensely he felt himself wanting to burst already.

People were beyond shocked to see this happening, it was a wild party but they weren’t expecting all this. You try not to pay attention to everyone and focus on Jungkook so you can make yourself cum. Then out of nowhere, he spontaneously lifts you up while you’re still on his cock. Engulfing those large hands on your ass cheeks to keep you balanced and thrusts into you deep while he’s standing up. You had your arms wrapped tightly around him, you weren’t too scared of falling since he had a strong grip on you. You were taking his cock with each harsh stroke he gave, screaming out his name over and over so the whole party could hear it.

“Fuck yes Jungkook! Keep fucking me just like that, you’re so good!!” You could feel yourself coming close and so does Jungkook. Wet strands of sticky hair cling to his face from all the work he’s putting in, his eyebrows furrowed to concentrate solely on making you cum.

“Gonna cum on this cock for me baby? I feel you getter tighter ‘round me.”

“Yess, wanna cum on your cock so bad please!”

He was hitting all the spots in you just right, the slight curve of his shaft fit so perfectly in your core. Your mouth was back to being jaw locked again, feeling the heat wave of your orgasm coming through. It hit even harder when you were drunk, you felt like you were going to fall out of his arms but he noticed you slipping and pulls you up into a firmer grasp. While shutting your eyes you feel your release take over, cursing and moaning his name repeatedly like a broken record.

“I’m ‘bout to cum ….” He pulls out of you and sets you back on the lawn chair, “look up and open wide for me.”

You open your mouth eagerly for him, he gives his cock a few pumps before releasing his white creamy load into your mouth. You swallow every drop of his cum and stick your tongue out for him to show your empty mouth. He smiles at the pretty sight of you and goes in to kiss you once again.

“This is fucking insane!” One of the random people at the party says.

You recognize the person since they’ve been watching you from the start. To say that you and Jungkook left everyone at that party speechless was an understatement.

“You know people were taking videos of us right?” Jungkook says cautiously.

“Yeah… it’s probably going to end up all over social media now, if it hasn’t already. Oh well, like I care!” You shrug nonchalantly.

Oh you’ll definitely care when you sober up.

“Let’s get outta here?” Jungkook zips his pants back up and takes his hand out for you to grab.

You hold onto him and balance your wobbly legs to stand up. You were both severely drunk but he held his liquor way better than you did. For the rest of the night, the party continued and you ended up finding your friends. They soon found out about you were doing and how you fucked Jungkook in front of everyone there, they were all completely taken aback. You went from hating his guts to him destroying yours— guess that’s one way you can end a burning hatred for someone.

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook drabbles #jungkook imagines #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine

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ktownshizzle · 3 months ago

Text

Wild & Free | Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Summary: Everybody says they want to marry Min Yoongi. But what if he only wants to say 'yes' to you.

Alternatively: While on the last leg of their PTD tour, Yoongi discovers there was such a thing as drive-thru weddings in Las Vegas - spontaneous, wild, exciting - something his pretty little brain can't seem to process having lived the last decade of his life planned to perfection by his management team, which includes you. When he goes down a rabbit hole of Youtube videos about The Little White Wedding Chapel (Omo! Michael Jordan got married there!), he starts getting all sorts of ideas - all of it starring him and you.

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Childhood friends to lovers, Idol!au, Coworkers to lovers (reader is a HYBE employee)

Warnings: Mild angst, cursing lol, mentions of sex, pining and lots of it, reader is insecure, couple of idiots truly, covid didn’t happen, one mention of recreational gambling (we're in Vegas!), canon moments I botched for my own use, ginger Yoongi is a warning in and of itself, angry Yoongi, cliches ‘cos meh, possible inaccuracies about Las Vegas - been there once, but details used in the story are just from research. Also, I get that Las Vegas weddings might seem tacky to some. Coming from a background of traditional, elaborate ceremonies, the characters in this story are genuinely surprised by this simpler approach. After all, a wedding is really just about you and your partner, and that’s the essence we’re exploring here. ♡ If you can get on board with that, then let's head to the Tunnel of Love! Viva Las Vegas! 🙂

Word Count: 7.2k (approx. 30 mins.)

Posting date: August 31, 2024

Dividers: @/saradika-graphics

Part One | Part Two | Masterlist

"Yoongi, marry me!" You shout at the top of your lungs, earning laughs from the people around you.

On the other side of the room, a couple of other people shout the same catchphrase, including Kim Taehyung, who seems to get the most kick out of it out of all the members.

Coerced to do one of those Tik Tok dance challenges, Min Yoongi stands in front of the room, hides his face behind his hands and you watch in delight as he awkwardly sways his hips side to side. More cheers erupt and two seconds after he decides he was done.

"Hajimaaaa!" Your friend says to no one and everyone, cheeks burning as he stalks back to the chair he was occupying across yours.

You push his beer bottle towards him, "Good job, gramps."

"Fuck off," he says with no real bite, taking a long swig off his drink to cool off his reddened cheeks.

It's great to finally get some down time with the crew. After such a fast-paced, high production tour, everybody needed to blow off some steam. This Korean BBQ restaurant off the Strip was the perfect venue to get the team together for samgyupsal and drinks. The vibes are, as the kids say, immaculate.

You are already sufficiently buzzed so you sit down as Seokjin takes his turn to do the challenge. He really seems to be more into it than the man currently giving you a look.

"I heard you." He narrows his eyes at you almost accusingly.

"What? It's the new viral catchphrase," you shrugged. "Everybody and their grandma is saying it these days."

"Not their grandma."

"You should be flattered."

Stop, you thought he would say. But his response catches you off guard.

"Only ‘cause you said it."

And he has the audacity to lick his bottom lip, a ghost of a smirk forming.

Fuck. Your throat dries up. When did it get so hot here?

“And in case you’re wondering…” he leans forward, a dopey-ass grin now on his face. “The answer is yes.”

Record scratch.

Did he really just-

Thankfully, you recover.

“Stop playing,” you say, trying to sound casual. But your face probably betrays the internal turmoil happening in your brain. You fear the day will come that he will have caught on to the unshakeable something you have been harboring for the better part of the last decade.

See, there’s always been an unspoken tension between you and Yoongi, something neither of you ever addressed or acted upon. Perhaps, in your younger days, there were moments when you felt your friendship was on the verge of becoming something more. But then he debuted as an idol, and things took off, and you were robbed of time. With his group’s growing popularity and you managing his personal career, the possibility of exploring anything beyond friendship and your work rapport became even more distant.

You feel like a bug under a microscope the way he observes you with a lopsided grin and while you try to hold his gaze, this clown interrupts.

"If y'all done eye-fucking each other, some of us are heading back." A drunk Park Jimin says with a mischievous grin, eyes crinkling like crescents. You could almost throw up.

Your eyes shift back to Yoongi and he just blinks in that blank way he does and bends to collect his bag from under his chair, completely ignoring his bandmate.

‘Fuck you,’ you mouth to Jimin hastily. Just enough time before Yoongi emerges with his backpack and your tote, which he already slung on his own shoulder.

You try to take it from him, but he waves you off.

"We're in bus 2," Jimin sings-songs and walks off, looking every bit the trouble-maker.

Thing is, you made the mistake of confiding in Jimin once, last year. You got drunk after getting dumped by some guy you met on Bumble three dates down, though it really was the sting of learning that Yoongi took one of Psy’s backup dancers out for coffee, even if it was just casual, that pushed you off the edge and into a bar in Hannam Intersection. Coincidentally, Jimin was there with that cute idol from Shinee and some other guys, but he joined you when he saw you looking like shit.

After learning about your long-standing crush (thank God you did not drop the L-bomb), Jimin would occasionally tease you, much to your chagrin. He’s careful not to push things too far, but it’s clear he sees himself as a bit of a cupid. You keep telling him that nothing will come of it, but he just won’t let up.

You are scared for things to change between you and Yoongi, not when everything is just how it’s supposed to be.

Not when you believe in your heart that if anything would have happened, it already should have.

And you would snuff the last embers of the torch that you keep holding out for him if only you knew how.

"Drive-thru weddings?" Yoongi enunciates in English, with the slightest lisp that you have always found so endearing. As your tour bus passes by chapel after wedding chapel, he continues to wonder out loud. "People get married there?"

Namjoon turns his head to look at Yoongi from his seat in front. "Yeah, hyung. They don't even need to get out of their car. It's just like a McDonald's. But they get a marriage license instead of a burger."

“Really? And people do this? Like, randomly?”

“Yeah, some celebrities decided to do it that way, but I assume many people do, too. I mean, look how many we’ve passed already.” Namjoon says with a tiny grin, cheek dimpling.

"Mm." Yoongi hums and you're curious about that faraway look on his face as he stares outside.

“Are you interested?” You joke lamely, instantly regretting opening your mouth. Why do you keep propositioning him? You blame that ‘one for the road’ shot of soju you downed on the way out of the restaurant.

He studies your face, before he replies lowly, so only you can hear, “Are you asking?”

Fuck, he’s bold. He’s also a bit drunk, but everyone knows he can drink anyone under the table. You know this is not the first time he got weirdly flirty with you after one too many drinks, so you take it in stride.

“What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas,” Hoseok's voice booms from the back and with a chorus of laughs ringing inside the vehicle, you take that as a sign that this is definitely just the effect of being in Sin City.

A few beats after and you steal a glance at Yoongi, finding his gaze transfixed at a sign that read: "The Little White Wedding Chapel".

Last day of the Las Vegas tour and while you are glad it is almost done, your heart aches as you remember that this is also your last one, ever. Your 60-day notice is already running, having tendered your resignation a month after LA wrapped up.

As great of a job as it is, your heart seems to always be at odds because of the lingering feelings you have for Yoongi. Everyday, you find yourself trapped in the limbo of unspoken feelings and missed chances. The endless “what ifs” weigh you down, and you can’t summon the courage to confront them. It’s not anyone’s fault but your own, and you hoped that stepping away from this life might jumpstart your next chapter, as BTS is also about to embark on theirs.

With the group taking a break for solo projects and gearing up for their military service, it seemed like the perfect moment for you to explore something different, too. Maybe finally open that cafe you’ve always wanted. Maybe you can also meet somebody, especially since your eomma has been on your back even more lately about giving her a grandchild.

You weren't planning to sever ties with Yoongi entirely, or at all. There’s too much history between you two to just walk away from the friendship. But you were desperate to let go of the emotional baggage.

The thing is, you have not told anyone. Not even Yoongi. Especially not Yoongi. It is highly likely that he will try to stop you and press for reasons, and you can't tell him that you’re in love with him, can you? Just… no. What a fuckin’ cliche.

You don’t know when you will be ready to tell him the truth, but it needs to be soon.

You find him on the side of the stage, eyes locked in on his phone that he held with one hand and you already can tell he is watching a documentary with the way his face is screwed up in concentration. His ‘watching a cat video’ face was infinitely more smiley, that's for sure.

He lifts his sleepy eyes up as you approach, handing you a latte that he apparently picked up for you from that place across the street, because the coffee from the catering ‘tastes like shit.’

Before you can say thanks, Yoongi exclaims, “Omo! Michael Jordan got married there?”

Your confusion must be written all over your face, because he quickly explains, “You know in one of those drive-thru wedding chapels we saw the other night. Wow. I can't believe Jordan did that.”

He pauses the video and turns the screen toward you, revealing a white building decked out with all sorts of decorations reminiscent of Valentine's day. The way he looks at you, expectantly, makes you feel like you should share his excitement, but you're a bit stumped. “Yoongi-ah, why are you watching this?”

He fidgets with a sheepish grin. “Well, I’ve never seen anything like this before. Korean weddings can be so complicated, you know? Hyung was really frustrated with all the traditions at his wedding.” He shrugs, still looking a bit embarrassed but trying to stay casual. “Here, it seems like you just need the right person. And maybe some courage. Okay, a lot of courage. I just— I don’t know, I find it fascinating.”

He nods to himself, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Totally endeared, you hop to sit beside him on the stage, bump your shoulder with his, and say, “Go on, press play.”

The tiniest of frowns that has settled between his brows smoothes out and he angles the screen more towards you before resuming the video.

Turns out it really is fascinating (Omo! Joe Jonas also got married there! But wait, isn't he divorced now?), so you watch a few more clips, before soundcheck starts.

You’ve always known Yoongi to have massive hyperfixations. In fact, you’re not at all surprised when that night during the concert, he even cheekily says to the crowd during his ment, “Welcome to Las Vegas, with the drive-thru wedding.” And of course, the audience eats it up, those wearing Shooky headbands, veils or holding “Yoongi, marry me” signs end up being the loudest.

But while you’ve supported all his previous mini-obsessions (League of Legends, Dalgona coffee, woodworking) until he over-indulged to the point of almost flushing it out of his system, you are not quite sure how else to help him with this one.

Unless of course, you… hah, you wish.

The tour wraps up successfully. The boys have different group and individual schedules before they return to Seoul. For Yoongi, a shoot for his photofolio, and some b-roll content for his upcoming documentary was on deck for him, you, and his crew.

The drive up to the desert was pretty uneventful as mostly everyone was asleep. You arrive sometime in the afternoon and immediately get to work in order to catch the golden hour. Yoongi has disappeared into the makeup trailer and you busy yourself with checking the preps.

The theme was glamping. Though Yoongi would never admit that that was the concept he approved. He would most likely say something more deep and poetic, that the setting is a poignant portrayal of his growth as a person and a metaphorical exploration of his artistry… Or something like that.

Things were running a little later than you like, which always happens when you are doing shoots overseas, so you volunteer to help with the set design. Placing some of the props near the camper van, you take a second to decide whether to use the metal cup or the ceramic mug, when a sleepy voice interrupts your thoughts.

"Set looks great. Good job."

You turn your head to look at Yoongi and wow his hair is orange.

The color of his favorite citrus and of course he looks sexy as fuck. He smells phenomenal, too–like mandarins with a hint of spice. You are in so much trouble. Seems your mouth is filled with cotton the way you are unable to make a sound.

“Yah! I spent hours on this new hair, you're not going to say anything?” he whines with a small pout.

You snicker at his cute expression, reaching out to touch the ends of his hair very lightly else the glam team unnies might scold you. “You look like a cat.”

“Ugh,” he groans, walking away with what you now realize is a stick of marshmallows in his right hand.

“No, Yoongi, it's cute,” You follow him as he stops in front of the bonfire, roasting the marshmallows over it briefly before taking a bite, still not placated by your words.

You decide to put him out of his misery. “You look good. Like really good. ARMY would probably even say sexy.” You inwardly cringe at the last bit–using ARMY to voice out your inner thirst, really?

Nonetheless, Yoongi's reaction is priceless. His lips stretch into a thin line, chin dimpling as he pretends to not enjoy the compliment that he very well fished for.

“Ok quit acting like an emoji and let me take your photos for IG.” You take your phone out and snap a few pics of him posing with the marshmallow, some without it. A couple of him grinning, gummy smiles on display, and you know you need to keep some of these for yourself when the inevitable comes and you won't see his face everyday.

“C’mere,” he pulls you to his side, arm going around your shoulder. A whiff of his musk has you swooning which you hope he does not notice.

Your phone is taken. He snaps a few selfies of you both and tsks when he sees your lock screen.

“Tablo-hyung, still? You know he's literally married and has a kid, right?”

You make a face and snatch your phone from his grasp. “Yah! As if you're not an idol and your face is not the wallpaper of thousands of people.”

“I think you mean millions.”

“Ass.” You try to shove him, but his hand closes in on your phone again.

Swipes and taps later, he seems satisfied and your phone is handed back to you, before he walks off without so much as a goodbye.

What did he do?

Wait.

Tablo is gone.

And the tableau in his place is one of the photos you just took with him. Eyes twinkling, smiles identical. The picture of a seemingly perfect couple.

Oh, damn. You really are a goner.

You send the pic to Jimin a little later. His response was unwelcome.

Jimin: You two have literal heart eyes for each other. So cute.

You: Not helping.

Jimin: Just tell him how you feel.

You: Again, not helping.

Jimin: What's your plan?

You: Do you really wanna know?

You ring him. Might as well tell somebody.

In between layouts, Yoongi films interviews for some magazines. You have complete faith in him and his media relations skills at this point. Smart, thought-provoking Yoongi can wow any interviewer, sometimes to the point where numbers have been slipped inside his coat pocket. Thank God this one is on Zoom, ‘cause you can’t deal with something like that happening right now.

You caught wind of something that he said during the interview and you made a mental note to ask him about it later.

“Sometimes, it feels like my life is just a sequence of obligations and schedules,” he tells the online reporter. “I can’t even remember the last time I made plans for myself. Being here in Las Vegas is refreshing. It’s like everyone is just living by their own rules. I don’t think I’m like that at all.”

"Do you want to be like that?" The reporter asks.

"Maybe..." he shrugs, sinking a bit lower on the chair he was on.

It was late and the crew was just winding down before packing up the set.

“How was your day?” he asks you with a soft smile. You can see the tiredness in his eyes.

“Not bad,” you say, taking a spot beside him on the picnic blanket that was still on set. He seems pensive.

“Did you ever think we would get this far?” he asks. “Couple of Daegu kids, now running around in America.”

“Who would've thought…” you say, observing him. His eyes were stoic, but you know he's got something else on his mind, something bothering him.

“You said something in your interview earlier.”

“Nothing bad, I hope?”

“Not bad per se, I just never heard you say it in an interview before. About not feeling like you can make your own plans. Like life has become a series of schedules.”

He hums and takes a sip of something from the mug he is holding. Your nose tells you it is definitely not hot cocoa.

“I’ve come to terms with it for the most part, you know,” he sighs looking out into the vastness. “But plans are good. Makes me feel like there is a point to all this.”

You follow his line of vision and sigh. You knew he was feeling a lot of stress lately. His life was not easy. You hate that you have to pile on top of it.

“We need to start planning D-day soon. It's going to be so busy with the album and the tour and all the content we have to make. Oh God, we might have to do fan calls, but I'm so embarrassed when I do it.”

You mimic his hum, getting disoriented with his use of ‘we’. He still doesn't know that word would be null and void soon.

“By the way, we gotta come up with a different name for the Youtube show. I can't pronounce it. Sich? Sush? Shit-”

“Suchwita,” you say, guilt settling in your tummy.

“...and we have that collab with Halsey for what’s that game again? Doom? No, Diablo! We used to play that before, remember? I think we might be doing a music video for that one.”

Just tell him. This would be the best time.

“Look, Yoongi I-”

“Thank you,” he suddenly says, in a tone so soft, and the way he punctuates it with your name makes your heart soar.

Your eyes snap to him, the slight pinks dusting his cheeks make him look like the teenage boy you met in music school.

“I’m not good at this - fuck, this is so awkward - umm but I've really been meaning to tell you that I appreciate you.” He continues, “You're really important to me.”

You try to fight back a smile at how elated you are, but can’t. And maybe he needs to see how happy this is making you. How happy he is making you.

In the years that you've known him there were two distinct moments that made you believe that just as you have been in love with him, maybe he was in love with you, too. And as you watch him rub his crinkled nose, trying to act chill but can't, you somehow convince your fickle heart that this might be the third.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, with all this talk about our ‘chapter 2’...”

“Yeah?”

“I know things are going to change, but I’m glad you’re still here. I honestly don't know what I'm doing half the time, but you, you give me direction,” he smiles, a hand scratching the back of his neck.

“Are you seriously thanking me for my constant nagging?”

“No,” he chuckles to himself. “I’m thanking you for being my friend.”

Oh. Ouch.

His lips keep moving and moving, and he is saying things with a fond smile, but your ears can’t register a single word. Except that single word: friend. Because, that’s all he sees you as, and that’s all you’ll ever be, and lest you need a reminder, that’s why you did what you did.

Disappointment cracks through your core and your lungs are suddenly devoid of air and you feel the urgent need to step away.

“Sorry Yoongi, I- I have to go.”

“Huh?” The light in his face fades, replaced by a frown and confused eyes that are watching your every move.

“Wait, did I say something? Tell me what's wrong.”

Don’t cry. Shit. Don’t cry.

“I've nothing to tell you.”

You grimace at how stiff you sounded but before you can rectify anything, your feet take you to the nearest trailer. You close the door and drop to your knees as uncontrollable sobs rack your body.

You rein yourself in after a few minutes, wiping your tears on the back of your sleeve. You fish your phone out from your pocket, the photo on your lock screen twisting the knife lodged in your heart.

You ring the first person on your recent contacts.

“I can’t do it, Jiminah.”

“What happened? Talk to me.”

You tell him how you were just talking and it was getting deep then he got sentimental and said thank you…

“For being his friend.”

A beat, then Jimin finally speaks. “He is such an idiot.”

“I can’t do this,” you say, with finality. “I’m going to finish this tour, but I’m really leaving. I can’t be around Yoongi anymore.”

You finally get a couple of days off and decide to dodge Yoongi after coming back from the desert. It’s oddly easy—he’s not seeking you out like he usually does. You left him hanging the last time you talked, and now you’re stumped about how to fix things. You and Yoongi never really fight, at least not seriously. You handle work stuff through Kakao, like sending over today’s recording schedule for the award show. He left you on read.

Jimin immediately calls out for you as you step inside the set. It was just one of the penthouse suites in the hotel you were staying in. You feel awkward as some eyes shift over to you as you barely had time to fix yourself, you just aren't in the mood.

“Hi,” you respond simply. “How's everything?”

Jimin glances over his shoulder, and you follow his gaze to find Yoongi staring blankly at the coffee table, a face of thunder.

“He knows. He heard you on the phone with me.”

Your heart immediately drops to your ass. “Shit.”

Jimin shrugs, a mixture of sympathy and amusement on his face. “Yeah, he’s pretty confused… and a little pissed.”

“Did you–”

“I would never,” Jimin interrupts quickly, holding up his hands. “It’s not my story to tell.” He pats your shoulder reassuringly. “Just talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You’re not sure if Jimin’s optimism is comforting or just making you more anxious. You’ve spent years imagining every possible outcome, every scenario where he finds out you felt something deeper. And most of those scenarios end in heartbreak.

Either way, you know you’ve got to face the storm brewing in Yoongi’s eyes.

The shoot goes on without a hitch. You and Yoongi avoid each other like the plague, so much so that one of the makeup unnies takes notice. You downplay it, not wanting to be the subject of workplace gossip.

The schedule wraps up and as you get ready to leave, there is a light tap on your shoulder.

“Hey noona,” Jake says, looking a bit nervous but flashing a tentative smile. “Umm, a bunch of us are heading out tonight. If you don’t have plans, you should join us.”

Jake’s one of the newer camera guys, and while he’s been nice—always greeting you and opening doors—he’s barely scratched the surface of what could be considered a friend. He’s not just polite; he’s actually pretty cute. You’ve never really hung out with him before, but something about the way he’s looking at you makes it hard to say no. It was one of the last nights you have in Las Vegas, and maybe, you should live a little.

“Ok. What time are we leaving?”

“Can we meet at the lobby by 10?”

Just as you’re about to respond, there’s a loud crash from the other side of the room. You catch a glimpse of Yoongi and Jin amidst a flurry of crew members rushing over. Whatever happened, it looks like it’s already being dealt with.

“10?” you repeat, still distracted by the commotion.

He nods.

“Got it,” you reply, trying to shake off your unease.

Jake adjusts his backpack and gives you another nod, his smile still lingering as he heads out. “Cool. See you tonight.”

“Ok…” you nod, a little dazed as you watch Jake fistbump one of the producers on the way out.

“Hot date?” Jimin appears out of nowhere, casually sipping his Americano. His grin is a little too knowing—clearly, he was eavesdropping.

“Not really. He just mentioned that a few people were planning to go clubbing and asked if I wanted to join.”

Jimin’s eyes light up. “So, he wouldn’t mind if we tagged along, right?”

“Who’s ‘we’?”

Yoongi lifts his wine glass at you, smiling and unbothered.

Is this him extending an olive branch?

“Hey, Danbi, Eunchae…” he says, his gaze drifting past you to the two girls from Design. They look momentarily stunned, then offer hesitant waves, clearly not accustomed to this rare gesture from the usually wordless Yoongi.

Seriously?

This asshole.

A knot of frustration tightens in your stomach. Not only is he acting like nothing happened, but he’s also playing it cool, like he’s completely unaware of how much this is getting under your skin.

You’re sad, but now you’re kinda pissed, too. And the worst part of it all, he knows he looks fine.

Ginger hair slicked back to reveal the fresh undercut, He’s wearing some black shirt and black pants, with Jordans you would guess, and you know if it was any other man wearing that, he would have been stopped at the door.

You shift the strap of your dress slightly, conscious under his taunting eyes. The little number was something hot you recently picked up, the kind that might end up on somebody's floor.

“Are you going over to them,” Jake asks casually, leaning closer to your ear.

“No,” you say, breaking eye contact with Yoongi and moving to the next table where the others were, with Jake following closely behind.

A chorus of hellos started as you reached the table. There were a couple of girls from Hair and Makeup and some of the videographers, too. As if on cue, a tray of colorful shots are suddenly placed on the center console. The night is about to begin.

Jake has been incredibly attentive so far, but the truth is, it’s someone else’s attention that you want. You are hyper aware of Yoongi’s presence and it’s like having an itch you couldn’t scratch.

You spot Yoongi by the bar, alone and absorbed in his own world. As usual, he's oblivious to the pair of women casting lingering glances in his direction.

Taking a deep breath, you steel yourself and make your way towards him. You notice his shoulders tense and stiffen as you approach, a clear sign of his unease, which almost made you want to retreat. But you know you can't go on another day of this unresolved tension with him.

“Yoongi, can we talk?”

He looks up, smirking as he swirls his drink. “Nah.”

Alright. You were not expecting that.

“Look, I just wanna explain–”

“It’s cool. You don’t have to,” he cuts you off, his voice casual but his eyes fixed stubbornly on the lowball glass he’s holding.

“But I–”

“You don't wanna be around me anymore, simple. Dunno why you're here.”

“Wait, Yoongi, you don't understand.”

“Don't understand? You never told me shit.” You notice how his fists are clenched, knuckles turning white. “I would have apologized if I did something wrong. Thought you knew that. Thought we were friends.”

It’s that word again. You chuckle bitterly. “Friends, I know. You keep saying that.”

At this he looks up at you, brows furrowed, but it was your turn to avert your gaze.

“‘Kay. You're leaving anyway, right? You can start now.”

“Fine.”

“Bye.”

You take a few steps, but something tugs at you, pulling you back. You glance over your shoulder, hoping to catch him watching you leave, wishing he’d somehow intervene, stop you from walking away.

But he isn’t there. His chair is already empty, the space where he sat now as vacant as if he’d never been there at all.

No one knows you better than Yoongi, and apparently no one else can hurt you quite like him, too.

The night is young. The club is electric. It is the hottest spot in town and you are hell-bent to experience it to the max.

Spirits and sugary shots tempered the hurt that settled in your gut after your encounter with Yoongi, now replaced with an urge to forget, to almost rebel.

The dance floor becomes your sanctuary. Shots of sweet, potent liquor flow, loosening you up and syncing your movements with the music. The crowd sways around you, a sea of bodies, but Jake remains a constant anchor.

His hands rest confidently on your stomach, your back pressed against his chest as you grind slowly against him. With one arm raised, you hook your hand around his neck, letting your bodies move in perfect rhythm. It's been a while since you let yourself go like this, but it's Vegas, after all.

You can feel the warmth of his breath as he leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re so sexy, noona.”

“Wanna get out of here?” The words leave your mouth before your brain can stop you.

Jake's eyes widen slightly, but he nods, quite enthusiastically actually, and you think: fuck it, he's cute and you are leaving the company anyway.

Disappointingly, the heat between you and Jake cools with every passing second as you make your way back to the hotel. Yet, you cling to the idea of seeing it through, driven by the need to prove a point: that a) your life doesn't revolve around Min Yoongi; and b) you are attractive and can pull anyone, even if Min Yoongi does not want you.

In another world, this would be a whirlwind of clothes flying off, bodies pressed against walls, hands exploring with urgency. But instead, you both enter the hotel room in silence, the air heavy with a tension that contrasts sharply with the passionate encounter you’d hoped for. The quietness between you feels like a stark reminder of how far you are from the fantasy you envisioned.

Jake notices the maze of thoughts you were lost in.

“Noona,” he says, placing his jacket over the arm of the couch. “Are you sure you want this?”

Want. It was hard to stitch words as a response to that. Not when your heart has only wanted one person for years.

To be fair you do want Jake in your bed tonight. Objectively, he is super attractive - his soft, wavy hair, those wide, doe eyes, and a jawline that could cut glass.

No time to waste. You turn to him, slowly unzipping your dress and letting it slip to the floor. “Does this answer your question?”

“Yes, yes, it does,” he walks in long strides over to you, yanking up his shirt in one fell swoop, revealing his toned stomach.

His hands cup your face and soon you feel his lips against your… neck? Ok, you can get into this. It’s not like you hate it.

He spends a few moments kissing you there. You close your eyes, willing your brain to shut off and just be in the moment.

“Can I touch you here?” One of his hands ghosts the side of your rib, inching towards the underside of your breast.

But before you can answer, loud knocks pound at your door.

“What the hell?” You hastily pull up your dress, zipping it up quickly. The furious raps continue and you can hear a voice behind it.

Jake follows you as you head to the door, picking up his tee from the floor and pulling it over his torso.

Bothered at the urgent banging, you don’t think to view the peep hole as you swing the door open, revealing

“Yoongi?” you squeak.

“Get out.” Eyes bloodshot, he strides past you and goes for Jake, who quickly tries to side-step him, moving a few steps back to create distance between them.

“Yoongi-ssi?” Jake's eyes, wide as saucers, go to his elder then to you, before a realization dawns on him. “They said you weren't– Fuck, I swear I really thought–.”

"Get. Out." His voice is cold, laced with a fury you’ve never heard from him before. He grabs Jake by the arm, practically shoving him toward the door.

Jake casts a pitiful glance back, mumbling, "Sorry, noona," even though he’s done nothing wrong. But you don’t see it. Your hands are covering your face, trying to shield yourself from the shock and shame crashing over you as the scene unfolds.

“Fuck off, kid.”

And then the door slams shut.

Yoongi paces the room like a caged animal, his hand raking through his sweaty hair in frustration. His breathing is heavy, almost ragged, as if he’s on the verge of losing control.

You finally find your voice. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You can't just barge in my room like that!”

“I just did,” he fires back. “Why are you with him?”

“It's none of your business. But since you really wanna know. I was about ready to fuck him.”

He clenches his jaw, his voice strained. “Did he touch you?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!”

His hand shakes as he drags it through his hair again, his frustration barely contained. “Did you want him to?”

You can't understand why he’s asking these questions, why he’s reacting like this.

“Yoongi,” you exhale heavily, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “Why are you here?”

Yoongi’s POV

Min Yoongi likes being in Las Vegas. The city buzzes with an electric energy, a stark contrast to his own chill demeanor. It’s a place where neon lights flash all night, and the unpredictable atmosphere makes him feel like a fish out of water—a thrilling kind of discomfort. He doesn't get why a city so loud and chaotic captivates him, but it does.

He was never one for outlandish, over-the-top spectacles, but the Cirque du Soleil show he watched with you and Hobi the other night instantly became one of his favorites.

He never liked recreational gambling, but the way you lit up with joy and hugged him tight after winning just 20 bucks at a random slot machine—it’s now one of his most cherished memories.

He never fared well in big, buffet restaurants, but if it means hearing you shout “Yoongi, carry meeee” (so stupid) as you beg him for a piggy back ride after downing five heaping plates, then maybe he can start looking up some buffets back home, too.

Las Vegas is free. Las Vegas is wild. Min Yoongi is not.

At least, not until that night when he tore past wild and plunged into nothing short of primal.

Straight out of a segment from The Animal Planet, he was a tiger, lounging contentedly with his pack. You were his queen, his chosen mate—though you don’t know it yet. But when a looming threat emerges, the alpha in him awakens, tapping into ancient survival instincts to protect what’s his.

First, he observed the threat.

Some guy from production. Jake. He’s HYBE's new ace videographer from Australia. Isn’t he younger than her?

Oh shit, this was the dude Yoongi actually handpicked to be the director of photography for his documentary. He might have to rethink this, depending on how things play out.

Fucker has his hand on your back and you shift subtly so his hand falls away. This is good, you don’t seem to be too into his advances, Yoongi tells himself, relaxing slightly on his chair.

Second, he assessed the situation.

Unfortunately for him, the situation escalated quickly.

Never in his life has he ever wanted to gouge his eyes out so badly. If he could actually shove his fingers in his eye sockets and scoop his eyeballs from his skull he would have done it right then. Yet somehow he couldn't look away. There was a sick, sadistic pleasure in watching you lose yourself on the dance floor. Like a voyeur, he stared, mouth slightly parted, breathless as your body grinds in time with the bass. He didn’t want to acknowledge the other man in the picture, the one that wasn’t him.

“You’re drooling, hyung,” Jungkook teases, and Jimin erupts in a fit of giggles, almost falling out of the bar stool.

Yoongi wants to deny it. But between the ache in his heart and the boner in his pants, he did not have it in him to lie. “Pass me a napkin, dipshit.”

Third, he sensed danger.

Unfortunately again, he had to use the toilet at some point. And as he returns to his spot on the balcony, he panics.

“Where the fuck is she?”

Jimin looked at him, warily. “They left.”

No, he thought. No, no, no they’re not leaving this club. They are not leaving his sight.

Fourth, he took decisive action.

A rush of adrenaline coursed through his body spurring him to run out the door, his phone on his ear as he tries to reach his driver.

“Hyung, stop.” Jimin runs to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“You know where.”

“Why?”

His head is pounding. He cannot think straight. And Jimin asking so many questions is so fucking annoying.

“You know why.”

Jimin sighs exasperatedly. “Why didn’t you idiots just talk about this like normal people?”

He doesn’t answer his friend, but he knows Jimin will be coming with him, whether he likes it or not. Because Jimin, nosy as he may be, is also one of the last real ones in his life.

Fifth, he confronts the threat head-on.

Which has brought him here, in your room, acting like the unhinged motherfucker he never aspired to be.

Your stern voice shakes him from his thoughts. “If you’re just going to stand there, just get outta here, Yoongi.”

“No.”

“No?” you let out a huff, a bitter sound cutting him. “You got some fuckin’ nerve. You ask me all sorts of questions, but you can't answer mine, huh?”

He has never seen this look in your eyes, and he starts to regret the hasty decision to come to your room.

Now, he was confronted with the first and very real possibility of you walking out of his life.

“Again, why are you here?” you ask, your voice a notch softer than it should be. It’s clear you’re exhausted, your tear-filled eyes an indication, wanting nothing more than for everything to make sense.

He cautiously pads towards you and gently reaches out for your hand. To his relief, you let him take it and he envelops it in both of his.

He takes one good look at you, committing your face to memory, because in his mind, this could be the point where your friendship ends.

He takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes for a moment, before a confession finally spills from his lips. “Because I can't lose you.”

You blink and a lone tear spills free.

“I heard you on the phone with Jimin and what you said broke me. I keep thinking what I did wrong, but I can't figure it out. Then I saw you with that guy and I lost my shit. You know I'm terrible at expressing myself, but I need you, ok? More than I can say. Don't go. I can’t let you go.” He tugs you gently towards him, encasing you in his arms.

It didn’t take long for you to return the hug, pressing your cheek against his chest, and he is certain you can finally hear his heart that beats only for you. How he wishes he can summon the courage to say so. But the moment feels so delicate and he wants to tread lightly.

“Yoongi…” you sigh out his name and his heart races at how tenderly you seem to have surrendered to him.

“I’m so sorry that I was such a dick to you. Didn’t mean to ice you out. Honestly, that’s the last thing I ever wanted.”

“What is it that you want, then?”

“This.” He tightened his arms a tad against your frame to make a point, before pulling his head back, just enough to be able to see your eyes when he says, “You.”

Your breath hitches and he is unable to read the expression in your face. Was it just shock? Was it dismay? A slight panic bubbles in his throat. Did he misread the signs? Did he just blow it? But you felt so pliant under his touch, you still do. So he had to ask, even if your response might just end him.

“Y-you don’t want this?”

“No, I do, I do,” you say, almost too quickly, nibbling on your bottom lip afterwards. His thumb goes to caress your cheek, and you lean slightly into his touch.

‘Fuckin’ do something,’ his brain screams at him, the way it has for years now.

So many words are still unspoken between you two, but as he looks at the affection and the want in your eyes, he decides–fuck it, you can talk later.

"I really want to kiss you right now," he finally admits, his voice low but steady. "Is that okay?"

You nod, but hesitate. "I’m just—” you place a hand on his shoulder, as if to anchor yourself on him. “I’m afraid that if I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

He lets out a breath, a smile playing on his lips as he sees yours curve into a shy grin.

“That’s exactly what I want,” he murmurs as he closes the gap, his lips almost grazing yours.

“I don’t want to just be your friend anymore, Yoongi.” Your nose nudges his, inviting him to make the next move.

“You were never just a friend,” he whispers against the corner of your mouth.

“And after this,” you say, moving your hands to the back of his neck, “I might want you all to myself.”

His lips brush against yours, featherlight. It’s barely a kiss, just a fleeting touch, but it leaves you both craving more.

“Baby,” he breathes, “I’m already yours.”

A/N: What do we think??? Feedback is appreciated! Do we hear wedding bells, or nah? See you in Part Two! 🙂

Tag: @tea4sykes @mggv97 @jajabro @yooglefics @codeinebelle @tinytan-gerine @comingupwithacoolnameishard @dontcribuyabag @mizz-kraziii @angelfuzzy2 @marnz1990 @speedyhandsbonkpalace @amarawayne @coffeedepressionsoup @little-cherry01 @take-u-2-an0ther-w0r1d @lolpanda94 @parapiop7 @wobblewobble822 @dazzlingjade @storyofafangirl @yoongrace @mzbtsreads

Thank you so much for reading, you beautiful human! xo

#myg x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #min yoongi x y/n #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi x oc #yoongi fluff #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts fic

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jello-chennie · 1 year ago

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✧ tough guy iwaizumi hajime who ends up falling for his best friend’s cute little sister

✧ genre/tw fluff ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ (nsfw at the end ⚠︎)

✧ word count 857

all three of you grow up together, with you being two years younger than tooru. oikawa is always doting on you, treating you like a doll. despite the very little age gap, no matter how old you get, he’s always referring to you as his baby sister. oikawa spoils you rotten. one look from those big brown eyes you both share, but look a lot cuter on you for some reason, and oikawa can’t help but to give you whatever you ask for.

in the beginning, iwaizumi is almost like your other, more responsible big brother when things go wrong. you’re always trying to tag along with your older brother and his friend, which is a recipe for disaster sometimes.

when you inevitably take a spill, and bump your knees, tooru is rolling on the ground, shouting out against the heavens for forsaking you. how could the higher powers let you just fall to the ground like that?? but iwaizumi is is silently wiping off the pebbles from your knee with his little hands, blowing cool air to help assuage your pain. without a word, he carries you back home.

eventually you learn to stop tagging along so much. you can only handle so much pain and embarrassment. other than those moments, iwaizumi and you never really spend that much time together. for the rest of your childhood, you’re more acquaintances than anything else.

but at some point, after oikawa desperately begs you to join the boys volleyball team as it’s manager (“its the only time we’ll be together in high school, you wouldn’t ruthlessly deny your precious and loving and dashing and charming big brother this chance, would you???”), iwaizumi begins to notice you again. but this time, you’re a lot more grown up than you were before. seems like good looks run in the family.

but he’s not the only one that notices. in the same sense that oikawa seems to have the student body under his spell, it seems you do as well, and without even trying.

you’ve had a sheltered childhood that you mostly spent in doors, so you’re shyer than most people. and your brother enables you with his doting behaviour.

iwaizumi finds himself frequently getting jealous at the basket of love letters and confectionery that you have to empty out of your locker and lug home every night. iwaizumi finds that his hands begin to ache after a while bc he clenches them so hard whenever he sees another person confessing to you. and he waits with baited breath to see their disappointed faces as they walk away—an indication that you turned them down again in the way that you always shyly do; an indication that he might still have a chance, yet.

in an effort to put the moves on you, iwaizumi is constantly performing little acts of service for you. he goes out with you to the fountains to refill the water bottles so that you have some company, and so that you won’t have to carry anything heavy—that should be his job, after all. in the most cliche move ever, when an errant ball goes flying right in your direction, iwaizumi coolly catches it with one hand before it can bounce off of your head, making sure to ask you if you’re okay after. he stays behind to help you sweep the floors after practice, striking up a conversation with you. when oikawa stays behind to practice his spikes, iwaizumi walks alone with you home, making sure to keep you away from the side of the sidewalk that’s closest to the road. iwa also makes sure to put your back against the wall of the train while standing in front of you, keeping you safe from any wandering hands.

eventually, he even starts buying your favourite milk drink from the vending machine, and brings it to you while he visits your classroom, the place where you normally eat your lunch. he sits, and eats with you (to which oikawa complains vehemently bc “why would you just sit in a different spot than we normally do without telling me?? you left me all alone!!")

iwaizumi’s actions don’t go unnoticed. you start to fall for it.

when you two eventually start to date, oikawa is whining and complaining that you two are both stealing each other away from him (there’s also relentless teasing on oikawa’s end bc “iwa-chan, isn’t funny that you fell in love with someone that looks just like me?? are you secretly gay and actually just in love with me :3 ??”)

but what’s really the kick in the back for oikawa is the moment he runs up to his precious little sister’s room to check and see what she wants for dinner. but upon opening the door, he finds both his best friend (who, of which, he didn’t even know was over their place at the moment) on top of his “adorable baby sister who can do absolutely no wrong”; the two of them are naked from the waist down, in the throes of passion.

he falls to his knees, asking god to strike him dead, right then and there.

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strawberrymochin · 4 months ago

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A Letter.....Long Lost!

kyojuro rengoku x fem!reader

word count- 12.2k

synopsis- the discovery of an old letter from kyojuro rengoku's room shakes the world of tanjiro. he thought he fulfilled every wish of rengoku. however he missed one. tanjiro needs to deliver it to the one it was written for; but the letter has nothing written except a name 'y/n'. who is y/n and how will tanjiro find her?

genre/warnings- post war timeline/ mentions of death/ slice of life/ angst/ fluff/ lots of flashbacks/ kamaboko trio going on a quest to find reader/ emotionally unavailable parents/ just read it i swear it wont disappoint/ comfort/ scenes of rengoku and mitsuri training/ mentions of mugen train

a/n- i had this idea in my head and i literally wrote this in two days. Loosely based off a film I'm obsessed with...this is my first time writing a long fic. im hella nervous. it will have a sequel with a reincarnation au and smut. not fully proof read, ignore small errors.

Nezuko chimed in as urokodaki made his appearance. Soon more people will join in. Kanao and aoi are helping in the kitchen, making several dishes while inosuke is trying to get aoi give him some to taste.

Tanjiro and zenitsu are spreading out the mats for people to sit and get comfy.

“urokodaki sensei! Please come and join.” tanjiro said noticing his former teacher, carrying a huge basket wrapped in a cloth with water patterns similar to his haori. Nezuko trails behind him bringing another basket.

“i brought some mitarashi dango and some hanami-zake for everyone.” said urokodaki with a soft voice, that made nezuko wonder if he was smiling under his tengu mask.

It's been 2 years since the war ended. People lost their dear ones with a pain bearing smile. Some endured injuries that would sustain through out their life marking them as ‘crippled’; while some sacrificed themselves for the greater good.

Seasons changed since then.

So did several people.

People who turned their hearts into stone, heavy from guilt of their family dying; who suffered from the culpability of being protected…

“giyuu san’s here too, please sit inside with the others while we get the stuff ready.”

“yeah how's your sister? I brought her some new kimonos”

A mild smile forming on his lips.

Tanjiro’s eyes widened a bit. It's kinda still new to him seeing such a soft side of the guy who barely used to smile.

……have let their guard down, allowing themselves to move on, now that there's no more threat hanging in the air.

People who had been afflicted by the remorseful long sleepless nights of trauma; killing the one who once bore them in her womb; whose eyes had become dull and frantic, dying inside in agony…..

“oi tomioka! Move outta my way!” grumbled sanemi, throwing a box wrapped in a delicate green cloth in tanjiro's direction as he catches it with difficulty. Having a hand crippled like an old man is sure a poor thing, not that tanjiro minds that.

“ahh the scary guy's here again! Don't touch the box tanjiro. It must've been poisoned!!!” shouted zenitsu, panicking around, hiding himself behind tanjiro.

“What did you just say?” Sanemi’s eyes narrowed at zenitsu, veins becoming more prominent, ready to throw a first at the blonde head's face.

“Goddamn shinazugawa! Don't scare the kid…” said giyu, grabbing his wrist and pulling him inside. “Wh-you’re such a creep tomioka!”

“Kk.”

“Stop giving me that kanroji face!” sanemi said as shivers ran down his spine. Somehow a smiling tomioka was scarier than muzan to him.

…have let go of their distraught, accepting the dreams which they wanted for their loved ones. Fulfilling it in their place.

“Both of them are creeps!” Zenitsu said digging his nails into tanjiro's skin as he spit curses on them. “Zenitsu they are gone now, can you please give this box to kanao san, it smells of fresh ohagi.”

“I'm telling you…it's fuckin poisoned”

“It's not, zenitsu…don't be like that” tanjiro pushed him away with the box. He then took up a broom and started sweeping any other leaves that fell down from the trees.

Pink flowers blossomed everywhere, now that another peaceful season had arrived.

Kanao had suggested nezuko and aoi that they should spend time together this hanami festival. Nezuko and aoi agreed to that instantly. Thus this is how they ended up inviting everyone at tanjiro's, whose house was surrounded by a lots of cherry blossoms.

Kiyo chan naho chan and sumi chan were playing with tengen’s baby as Suma kept pestering urokodaki san for loosening his face mask (I can't blame my lil curious mommy). Makio was sure annoyed at her behavior while hinatsuru just chuckled. Murata sat stiff in the presence of four former hashiras.

Almost all of them had arrived. Except the rengokus.

Aoi brought them some appetizers, as they kept on chatting. After decorating the food all of them would join outside admiring the moment of bliss.

“Senjuro Kun and shinjuro san ain't here yet right?” Asked tengen.

“They haven't made their arrival yet” announced aoi, “however tanjiro san is waiting outside for them, the food is almost done, we can start after they get here”

“HAHAHAHA…. RUSHING IN LIKE A BOAR!!!” inosuke dashed in with a sakura onigiri in his mouth, from the kitchen. “WAhahhh scar guy!! Fight me!” As expected from inosuke, nothing could ever stop him. At first he was a bit spooked seeing a lot of people at once and sticked to aoi till his normal composure returned.

“Still that dumb boar head! Will he ever get mature?” Sanemi grumbled lazily. “I agree” said giyu, smiling at sanemi, which almost made his stomach churn. Tengen bursted out in laughter, “I see you are still in spirit huh? Quite flamboyant of you.”

“YEAH THE GOD OF MOUNTAINS INOSUKE SAMA IS ALWAY—” Aoi smacked him on his head and dragged him away while muttering some apologies to the hashiras.

“He's still much of energy…and his voice has become much hoarse ain't it? I still remember taking those kids on that mission. And this kid in particular was such a ruckus.” Said tengen, stretching his arms.

“Isn't it good to see all of us after so long without having to fear losing someone?” Said hinatsuru, makio and Suma smiled at each other.

“But we had already lost many people.” Sanemi sighed. He wished he could apologize to genya. If life ever gives him another chance he would like to be a little less aggressive.

“If you keep sulking like that, your brother will definitely curse you from heaven.” giyu took a gulp of the matcha tea, sanemi sent at tanjiro's a month ago.

“Now that there are no demons, you two get along with each other quite well don't you think so?” Tengen threw the snarky question at them.

“what the—”

“I wish rengoku could have seen you guys like this…remember the one time himejima san told us that oyakata sama wanted to see giyu smile….”

“See me smile?”

“Yeah, what a waste of time i swear.”

“Rengoku disappeared for a while to buy glasses in order to make giyu smile.” laughed tengen.

“It didn't work though and then kochou emotionally blackmail me to make him laugh.”

“Oh so this is why you wanted to have sake daikon with me?” Giyu smiled again at sanemi.

“I swear if you make that kanroji face again at me, I will kick you on your balls.”

“Everyone food’s ready, let's go and sit outside!!” Said nezuko halting the heated nostalgic conversation of the two.

Murata finally lets himself relax a bit as the hashiras start moving out. Urokodaki slammed a hand at his back, as he felt his stiff posture return. “Don't be so stiff we aren't gonna ask you to duel.” murata’s cheeks reddened in embarrassment as urokodaki laughed off at the kid's nervousness.

These days are indeed peaceful.

Senjuro made his appearance a bit late. He apologized for his fathers absence, blaming on his health. It's not been that best for a few days.

“Oh goodness, is he really going to be fine, we can go run a check up on him you know?” Kanao offered an idea, worried about the shinjuro’s health.

“Thanks a lot. Actually there's something that has been troubling us for a while.”

“Is everything okay?” Tanjiro's asked with concern lacing his eyes. Sanemi noticed, he had always been kind. He was kind to his brother. During hashira training when tanjiro stepped over the line, it actually made sanemi kinda happy and relaxed. Atleast genya had someone in life he could rely on.

Shinjuro's put down his bowl and chopstick on the mats as he brought his hand to his knees.

“There's something we found a month ago….while cleaning aniki’s room.”

Not only tanjiro but tengen, giyu, sanemi, zenitsu and inosuke froze for a second. The untimely death of the young guy was such a sad event that has ached their hearts for a long time.

Tanjiro could smell senjuro’s emotions and it was odd. It wasn't sadness, or guilt, or anger. It was pity. And somehow it stinged tanjiro, the same way it did years ago.

Senjuro took out some bunch of old papers from the sleeves of his yukata.

Tanjiro's throat felt dry and uneasy. It were a bunch of letters.

All of them looked like they were forgotten for months. The letter envelopes had stained yellow and some even have their edges teared off. But it sure emitted a strong smell. The smell of kyojuro rengoku. Tanjiro's still remembers the distinct hints of his aura. And it somehow still lingered around these letters. Especially the one which was sealed.

“What is it?” asked aoi, finally breaking the deafening silence. A strong gust of wind blew the pink petals along with the letters from senjuro's hand. It's scattered around the mats as all of them tried to collect them.

“Y….y/n?” read nezuko aloud. She hold the sealed letter in her hand as tanjiro extended his palm to grab it. It had tear stains. One side of it had brush marks written ‘to y/n’. The ink has now blurred a bit. But it was still readable.

“What's the meaning of all this?” Tengen asked, grabbing one of the opened letters in his hand. Giyu had hold of one reading in pure shock, while sanemi pondered from the side. Eyes as shocked as giyu’s.

“What happened tengen-sama?” asked makio, seeing all of their disturbed expressions. Zenitsu tried to snatch away the papers from inosuke who was trying to eat it.

“We found these letters from aniki’s room. A lady named y/n had sent those letters to him. An—?”

“And that lady was his lover?” asked giyu.

“What nonsense!”

“He never mentioned any of that to me.” frowned tengen.

“Nor did aniki said anything about it at home. At that time our father didn't pay us any attention. He was drowned totally in despair from the death of our mother. Seeing us only infuriated his anger and sorrow. Aniki would train or be at missions and he was rarely at home. He never told me anything about that….”

‘A letter?’ thought tanjiro. He started sweating all of a sudden. He thought he fulfilled all his wishes but—

“Rengoku san! Please think about yourself, can you stop the bleeding with your breathing technique?” Tanjiro has muttered those words back then, panickingly, devastatingly.

He wanted rengoku to say yes. He wanted him to live beside him, fight beside him, eat beside him. But he didn't get that as an answer.

“No, very soon i'll be dead. Before that happens, i need you to hear me out. I have a younger brother named senjuro. Please tell him to follow his heart. And walk down the path he feels is right.” Rengoku’s face had the same content smile, which warmed their hearts up. He continued, “And tell my father to look after himself…and lastly…”

Rengoku went on and expressed his views on nezuko. It felt like a warm hug. Someone has accepted nezuko. Not because they pitied her but since they saw her true potential and that she was no harm to humans. And now when he remembers it clearly, there was something rengoku whispered before his heart stopped pumping.

It was a faint whisper. So subtle that tanjiro thought it was his ears ringing. But now that he recalls, after he said he trusted them as a slayers, he whispered a few words

“and the lette—”

Rengoku stopped mid sentence as tanjiro kept weeping. He wasn't looking at tanjiro but something behind him. It made him smile as he took his last breath.

“Oni-chan? What happened? Are you okay?” Nezuko pulled tanjiro out of his daze. Everyone was looking at him worriedly. Even sanemi was worried.

“I've not fulfilled rengoku san’s last wishes. I- i haven't. I haven't delivered…how can I be so dumb!!”

“What? Tanjiro san! Calm down! You told us everything aniki wanted to say to us.” Senjuro tried to comfort tanjiro.

“No…before dying he whispered something. I thought my ears were ringing but he did whispered something. It was about a letter.” tanjiro kept on babbling as everyone felt dead silent even senjuro couldn't move his hands.

The sealed letter stayed in tanjiro's hands.

Something that belonged to the girl named y/n.

Something probably dear to kyojuro rengoku.

Some words which were waiting since 3 years.

But…..who is y/n?

The rest of hanami festival gathering went by silent. Senjuro entrusted the letter to tanjiro as per as his request before leaving early since he need to be home before sunset to check upon his father. Murata and urokodaki san accompanied him on the way.

“That's completely ridiculous. None of us have any idea who the fuck this y/n is? how are the fuck are you even planning to find her?” Sanemi spit out bitter words at tanjiro, sitting on the porch, watching the sun slowly turn a deep shade of orange. It reminded him of rengoku’s odd hair colour. It's funny how not only he, but his tsugoku also had weird hair colour— a colour which was dear to Iguro obanai.

Tanjiro lowered his head, smiling a bit. Sanemi changed a lot, even if he speaks harshly, he can only smell pure concern. “But I can't start a new life without paying my debts. Rengoku san saved my life. Whoever lady y/n is….I need to deliver this letter to her.”

“I get what you're saying…but there's no address in any part of the letter. Moreover you are being hesitant on opening it. How do you think you will find her then?” Tengen spoke from the back, alerting the former wind hashira and tanjiro. Both wondered how long he's been eavesdropping them. They expect nothing less. He was a hashira and before that he was a ninja. Even after losing one arm and one eye, he still holds the same power.

“Honestly, I've no idea. But I just can't sit and let it slide.” said tanjiro.

“you’re getting married to kanao next year. Better focus on that. Don't get into useless troubles hanging her off.” sanemi said lazily, yawning and getting up to his feet, stretching a bit. “I will be leaving then. Take care.” Tanjiro didn't reply to him.

Tengen shared a look with sanemi. His eyes shooting a mischievous look filled with pride. Tengen has been in a mission with tanjiro and he knows how stubborn he can be. He knows how pure of a heart he had. And how he even had empathy for demons. He knows sanemi have to surrender infront of him.

Annoyed, sanemi rolled his eyes, “if you're that insistent on finding the girl, then why not refer to kasugai crows. Rengoku's crow might know something about the girl.” He suggested as tengen was in literal awe. He never thought sanemi could ever think logically with his brain. Tanjiro’s head perked up in joy at his idea. Now he finally has a path to look up. Sanemi felt awkward and took his leave, avoiding to look in their eyes.

“Ah! Shinazugawa san! Thanks for the idea!!”

“That brat finally seems to work a bit humane ain't he ?!” A deep laugh bubbled up tengen’s throat.

“I’m happy that he has softened a little now that demons have perished. However, about rengoku san’s kasugai crow, do you know where do I get in contact with it?”

“About that, i would recommend writting letter to kiriya sama. I'm sure he would know.” Tengen patted his head with a reassuring smile.

Soon he took his leave with his wives and giyu, since they were going to an onsen. Basically makio Suma and hinatsuru dragged him along forcefully. Giyu looked a bit tired but he was happy.

Things changed and improved rapidly in a short time. Zenitsu and nezuko got married last year. Murata also got engaged. Tanjiro couldn't help but wonder if the lady named y/n had moved on or not? Will rengoku san be happy if she found someone else? Will he be sad? He looked at nezuko smiling at zenitsu as he played with kiyo, naho and sumi. He looked at inosuke giving his shiniest acorns to aoi. He looked at kanao, smiling delicately, just like shinobu did.

He was happy.

But was the lady named y/n happy in her life?

Kanao looked at him and smiled. She came near him and took his wrinkled hand in hers. “Tanjiro san, you know I would really like you to deliver this letter to y/n san before we start a new life.”

“Even if it takes time?”

“Even if it does. I will wait for you for an eternity.” Tanjiro chuckled as red tints his cheeks. How pure kanao’s heart is? How did he get so lucky to have her in his life? God knows.

“Then I will write a letter to kiriya.”

After a few days, a letter arrived from ubuyashiki's. Along with that two kasugai crows were found circling over the house. Among them one belonged to tanjiro, when he was a demon slayer— tennoji.

The other was the one who accompanied rengoku till his last breath. Kiriya felt sad for rengoku and wrote his kind regards to tanjiro sending the crow to him. His name was kaname.

The crow looked pretty much normal and wasn't as hot -tempered as tennoji.

This was the first time tanjiro had seen him. “Hello, kaname san. Sorry for summoning you all of a sudden. But I wanted to ask you something…” the crow didn't reply, but tilted his head at tanjiro.

“I-ahh- do you know anything about a lady named y/n?”

The crow remained quite for a while, as if reminiscing the days which followed great sorrow. “Master's…y/n sama…master's lover…letters…”

His words were what tanjiro was expecting. Tanjiro finally saw a path clear.

“Can you tell me where she lives?” Asked tanjiro hopefully.

The crow shaked his head,“i don't know.”

Slightly disappointed, tanjiro started asking how she looked. The crow wasn't exactly able to describe her. Accepting his defeat, he asked the crow where he saw her for the first time. Maybe if he goes there, he will be able to find her.

“tokyo…capital…mission..”

the crow wasn't that helpful, they only got to know two things.

First- whoever this y/n is, she was rengoku's lover.

Second- rengoku's crow saw her in tokyo, the capital.

This indicates maybe rengoku and the people who went to the mission in tokyo as said by the crow, if alive, they might know something about it. Tanjiro wrote updates to the others.

A few days later, giyu’s letter came along with some sweets. In that he wrote that rengoku went to tokyo for a battle with lower moon 2 back then. Oyakata sama had assigned him to that mission, before he was a hashira. There were a bunch of people accompanying him, one of them being kanroji mitsuri.

Oh! Mitsuri kanroji was his tsugoku, tanjiro almost forgot about that, he got excited to ask her when reality struck him down. She died after the war. Even if she knew y/n tanjiro couldn't ask her.

He continued reading the letter from giyu as the path which formed in his mind started getting blurry.

Upon hearing from tanjiro, kanao dropped by at the kamado’s. She said she might have one way to get to know about y/n. Tanjiro's eyes perked up at kanao’s remark, which almost made kanao’s heart jolt since he was so cute.

Kanao explained, when shinobu was alive, she had once told her that mitsuri was close to a kakushi couple. She further said that mitsuri used to write letters to them about her missions on a regular basis. Those two even came to congratulate her when she was promoted to hashira. She said it was nice to see that a girl around her age so lively.

Tanjiro wrote a letter to kiriya again. And next week when tanjiro went out with inosuke to sell some charcoal in the city, a couple came to visit them.

Nezuko welcomed them, while zenitsu narrowed his eyes on them, especially upon the male.

When tanjiro returned home he was delighted to find the kakushi couple still waiting for him. They didn't hide their faces anymore. Dressed normally as regular citizens. Honestly they were pretty young, and tanjiro admired how they served the corps group keeping them intact.

“I'm so glad you both came.” Tanjiro bowed infront of them in gratitude.

“Oh no, that's completely fine. We are happy to be of any help. Oyakata sama said you wanted to know about mitsuri.” said the woman.

“Ahh not exactly about her, but for instance, do you have any idea if she ever mentioned a name called ‘y/n’?” tanjiro said pulling inosuke back beside him as he kept munching on the snacks for the guests. The guy gave him a creeped stare as he focused back on tanjiro's words.

“y/n? No I don't think so….she ever mentioned that name. Did she tanaka san?” The woman said.

Tanjiro felt anxious as the guy named tanaka tilted his head to think a bit.

“Nope I don't think she did.”, he clarified.

“Oh….” Tanjiro's voice was barely a whisper, that even inosuke sat straight checking if he's alright.

“Is there something else we can do, tanjiro kun? You look upset.”

“No no…it's fine. I was just trying to deliver a letter to rengoku san's love—”

“Rengoku san? Kanroji san’s master ain't it?” Tanaka spoke before tanjiro could finish his sentence.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god? The one whom rengoku san loves was y/n?”

“You guys know her?” Hope shined bright in tanjiro's eyes. So did a fervent fear. Fear of disappointment. Fear of not being able to pay his debts. Fear of not fulfilling rengoku san's last wish.

“We didn't know about her name but kanroji san used to tell us about her…isn't it shimi san?” The guy turned to his wife with a fuzzy smile on his face.

“Yeah, she seemed so happy, wanting to have a love like them.” Said the wife.

And for the first time till now tanjiro wasn't let down. “Really? Did she lived in tokyo? Rengoku san's crow said he saw her for the first time during a mission.”

“A mission? No.” The wife let out a chuckle, “it started way before that. Kanroji san said….. ”

“Ahh! Master! Can we please have a break! I'm tired from hitting the sword, my limbs are sore.” Mitsuri cried barely holding another strike from her master.

“Haha you got tired this fast, we haven't even started.” the blazing hair resembling fire, moved swiftly as the guy attempted another strike on mitsuri, but thanks to a call outside, he stopped midway.

“Wait a bit, I will be back in a while.” Said kyojuro rengoku, her master. ‘i will be happy if you don't come back for a while.’ she thought as she collapsed on her knees, to exhausted to move.

“Ahh senjuro kun! Bring me some snacks please!!!” She shouted hoping for the little kid to hear.

A bit later, rengoku comes back. Senjuro looked at his elder brother, frowning while holding a letter. Mitsuri sat beside senjuro, who brought her some onigiris.

“What's that master?” She asked, stuffing another onigiri in her mouth.

“Even I'm confused. It's a letter but it wasn't delivered by a kasugai crow but by a postman.”

“Huh? Maybe it's from some neighbour wanting to lower your voice while eating.” Senjuro said shrugged off his shoulders as mitsuri suppress her laugh bubbling on her throat, almost choking on rice. It wasn't an irregular thing that neighbors anonymously complained about kyojuro shouting ‘umai’ every time he ate.

“Open it.” Said senjuro, curious what type of sarcastic words they might have chosen now.

Kyojuro did as his little brother requested. However kyojuro didn't reacted after reading the letter.

“Today's practice is over. You can relax.” He, then ordered senjuro to boil him some bathwater, shooing him away.

Senjuro obeyed his brother, while mitsuri felt kinda odd, yet she was happy to have a day off.

As soon as both of them left the backyard, rengoku blushed like crazy. The letter was still in his hand as he tried to digest the words.

“A love lett—” a big palm shut mitsuri’s mouth, preventing her from shouting. Yet she was squealing. “I thought you left! You've gotten quite quick in sly footing didn't ya? I'm impressed.” He finally removed his hand from mitsuri's mouth.

“Ofcourse you made me practice for 23 hours without sleep. Anyways, what's written in that?”

“Do you want me to make you practice for 2 days straight?”

“Naah I'm fine! But master, I'm happy.”

“Okay.”

“And curious too. Please let me read it.”

“No!”

After shooing mitsuri out of the backyard he tucked the letter in his sleeves. This letter was sure weird.

“Rengoku san thought that she didn't read the letter, but she had a strong memory and could remember each word after seeing it once. She was so excited telling us about that.” said the wife, looking outside the window at the moon.

The flame of the lantern flickered a bit. “So that might mean that the letter should be among those papers…”

“Woah zenitsu! I thought you were asleep?!”

“How am I supposed to sleep if you're talking that loudly idiot!”

Yeah the paper. There were a lot of papers. Some were smudged and unreadable, so they didn't read all of them. Tanjiro went over their cupboard and brought the bunch of papers.

“Can you identify the letter among them?” He asked the guy to inspect. The couple looked at each other. “Maybe we can try but the writings aren't clear.”

“Please if you can. I need to deliver that letter.” tanjiro bowed his head down begging to the couple.

“You're a nice kid, Tanjiro kun. We will surely help you.”

It's been more than twenty minutes since they are reading each and every paper. Inosuke got bored and slept on the tatami mats. Nezuko was already asleep so they didn't wanted to bother her.

“Yeah maybe this one. From what Kanroji san had explained, this seems to be the one.” The guy tanaka handed the delicate piece of paper to tanjiro.

“However, in each of these letters, she referred herself as his wife…I didn't know he was married…?”

“Huh?” Tanjiro frowned upon the man's words. ‘what?’ he checked the letters again. And the guy was right, y/n did refer herself as his wife. They didn't read the papers as carefully since they were long, they just assumed she was his lover. But rengoku san wasn't the one to hide such crucial information.

Tanjiro was confused, they were so focused on finding the address of y/n that they ignored reading the letters, which could provide information about her.

Tanjiro spent the entire night reading each word carefully. Fingers running across elegant handwriting and smudged ink. As he kept reading those with a pain in his heart. There were in total 7 of those letters, which were written to rengoku. And the one which tanjiro kept seemingly in care— the sealed one; one which has a strong smell of rengoku’s aura; one with tear stains.

The couple spent the night in their house and left the next morning after breakfast.

This helped but not that much. However the path had become clearer.

He knew that the girl was from a nice family who had hands in education from the curves in each characters of her words.

Second, she had mentioned that he had saved her and her friends from a fire, in yokaichi.

“I'm leaving for yokaichi.” Said tanjiro during breakfast.

“Eh? Oni- chan?”

“Don't worry nezuko, oni-chan will be back soon.”

“I will also go!” Said inosuke, “inosuke-sama will protect kamaboko gonpachiro, his minon from any harm.”

Tanjiro chuckled at how inosuke shows his care for him, “fine then.”

“Zenitsu san you also go with them…”

“Ehh, but nezuko chan won't you be lonely without me? I know you will be lonely without m—”

“I won't. You guys will be back soon. Till then I will be at butterfly mansion.”

“B-but nezuko channn!!!!” Inosuke dragged him away as nezuko watched the poor soul. She felt bad but she wanted him to be with her brother. She just felt that the three of them should go together.

The three of them finally reached yokaichi town. It was small but quite dense in population. Tanjiro felt that this was an advantage for them since they stories and folks might spread fast in a vast social surroundings.

“Inosuke, zenitsu let's ask the older citizens first, since they might be living here for a while, they must have known about any fire incidents.”

“I was about to say the same thing as you.” Snorted the board masked guy rushing off in the east direction. Zenitsu simply nodded and went in the opposite direction, sulking. He has been giving tanjiro silent treatment since he had to leave nezuko alone.

Tanjiro sighed as he started finding old citizens nearby asking about a fire incident.

After asking a few of them, he sighed, it didn't really do any help, since many weren't able to hear and some weren't able to remember. When he asked the youngsters, they ran away seeing his old crippled hand.

Tanjiro, let down, returned to the spot where they had started searching. Inosuke was already there tapping his feet as he was waiting for the others.

“Did you find anything?” Asked tanjiro.

“Nahh! They were mere cowards. Running way from me. Though I liked it! Everyone should fear the great inosuke sama.” As expected from inosuke, zenitsu was yet to return. Both of them decided to wait till he comes back.

After a while, zenitsu came back. His sulking still hasn't tailed off. “Ahh zenitsu! Did you find anything? You took so long!!”

Zenitsu didn't reply.

He stared at him with dead eyes.

Oh god! Zenitsu’s moody phases are the worst, especially if it's an urgent task. The whining and sulking from a few years ago flashed in front of tanjiro’s eyes.

“You turned mute or what?” said inosuke, already having enough of zenitsu’s tantrums.

But the only reply that came from the blonde was an eye roll. Inosuke got pissed, ready to throw hands at him if not stopped by tanjiro.

“Zenitsu, I will get nezuko chan make sweet washagis for you when we get back home.”

“Really!! You better do that. I can't even explain how much I've missed my dear wife nezuko chan. She must be so lonely without me.” Babbled zenitsu, finally speaking for the first time till they left home.

“She won't.”

“Stop making snarky comments you stupid boar head. What do you even know about pure love between me and nezuko chan?!!!”

“Ahh zenitsu! Did you get to know anything?”

Zenitsu considered tanjiro a while, before giving in, “At the very west of this town, there's an inn. People said it almost burned down about four years ago…I looked for its owner but they said he will be back late.”

Tanjiro let out a breath. If that's the case, then the owner might remember the incident clearly. If only he could provide any useful information.

“Btw do you really believe whoever this y/n is…she's still alive?” Zenitsu scratched the back of his neck, shooing away the mosquitos ready to feed upon his blood. It's been long three of them are waiting in front of the inn for its owner to arrive.

“Let's just not lose hope.” The inn did looked like it suffered severe consequences from whatever happened 4 years ago. Most of it has been repaired but the aura and the smell can still be recognised. There are still some wooden planks with burn marks which are yet to be repaired.

“May I ask who you three are?”

A chilly voice turned their attention. There stood a thin, frail boy, barely an adult. His eyes were small with hair falling down on his brows. He speculated about them with a suspicious look in his eyes(especially on the boat masked guy). Was he the owner? He looked too young for that.

“Ahh good evening! I'm tan—”

“If you're wanting to stay the night, go somewhere else, I'm not opening the inn today.” He replied coldly before tanjiro could even introduce himself.

“Ahh no, you're misunderstanding…. actually we are here to ask you something about the incident four years ago…”

The look on the boy’s face changed from suspicion to disgust.

“Well…I don't wanna talk about it. You guys can leave.”

“No please, at least hear our questions. It's really important.”

“As if I care.”

“Hey fucker! If you don't answer I'll break each and every bone in your body.”

“Stop it inosuke!” This isn't going any better. It's almost night, they also need to find a place to stay.

“tanjiro can you move aside a bit” said zenitsu, without waiting for his reply, he went to the kid. Apparently he whispered something in his ears which seemed to have creeped the guy out.

Tanjiro gulped. He must be desperate to go home and see nezuko. Sometimes he forgets that their coward friend can be hell scary when it comes to nezuko.

“Okay. He's ready to spill anything he knows.” The look on the kids face made it clear he didn't wanted to recall anything about that incident. However tanjiro had no choice but to push him off the edge.

“Hey I'm sorry if we're causing you any trouble, but you know we really need to know anything you know about a girl named y/n.”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah. Heard it before?”

“No. There were none with this name.”

“Eh? Can you try to recall. There must be someone. A girl who was saved by rengoku san. A guy whose hair was similar to fire.”

“Kyojuro rengoku you mean? He pretty much saved everyone. The inn you see here, is small. Before the incident also it was small and not that popular. Only a few people stayed here occasionally. So I can be sure there was no one named y/n.”

An ‘oh’ is just what tanjiro could manage. The boy got inside the house behind the inn. The night fell and they were still in the same position as before.

Inosuke was throwing tantrums in hunger, so they decided to go to an udon shop nearby. Perhaps they should not lose hope. Thinking empty stomach is not always the best option. This they were sitting in the shop waiting for their order to come.

“But she did mention in those letters that she was saved by him. How come the owner doesn't know anything about that?”

“I already told you we should have broken his bones, monjiro.”

“I think it's useless, let's just go back home to my nezuko chan.”

“Zenitsu! What if you were in place of rengoku san? Would you be happy if your last words don't reach nezuko?” zenitsu went silent at that.

They stayed silent till three bowls of hot udon were placed infront of them. Tanjiro and zenitsu thanked the server for the food whereas inosuke just shoved his head into the hot udon bowl. “You guys seem a bit tense, is everything okay? Asked the old man, the owner of the udon restaurant.

“Yeah we're just a bit disappointed.” Said tanjiro. “Haha and why so? Got rejected by a girl? Can't blame her, it's your hand.” The old man pointed at tanjiro's crippled hand. “What happened that's it's such in a bad condition?”

“Oh! It's…from…from a fight.” Tanjiro smiled, it's hard to offend him anyway,“ i already have a fiance and we are getting married soon.”

“Oh my god! Please forgive my mean words then. I wish you both happiness.”

“Thank you.”

“Then why pull a sad face. My udon tastes the best when you eat it with a good mood, ya know?!”

“Haha, I'm sure it will still taste good. Actually we were here wanting to acquire some information about the fire incident 4 years ago.”

“Oh that was such a bad one. If there wasn't that guy everyone would have lost their life…”

“Rengoku san? You mean?” Tanjiro's eyes perked up. “I see, you know kyojuro. Yeah, that boy was a regular in my shop. Although it's been more than three years since he last visited, i wonder how he's doing? Tell him to visit once, the old man misses him.” the man bursted in laughter while the three of them couldn't even managed to smile even once.

How are they even supposed to tell him, tell him that, “rengoku san died three years ago while saving us from…” zenitsu's voice trailed down into nothingness. So did the old man's. They didn't knew if he's aware about demons so they didn't exaggerated it anymore.

No one spoke for a while.

“I see. What did you guys want to know then? I'm sure you were close to him if he gave up on his life for you all…”

“do you know anyone named y/n? I need to deliver this letter to her.” tanjiro took out the yellow stained letter and handed it to the old man, who squinted his eyes on the writings, drawing a wrinkled finger tracing it's shapes.

“Y…y/n…..yeah she asked me to send some letters to his residence. The kid was young and beautiful.” he returned the letter back to tanjiro.

“She did?!”

“Yeah…that kid almost begged me to not tell kyojuro anything about that.”

The three of them looked at each other. “Can you tell us more about her?” “Do you know where she lives?” “Can I get a refill?” The three of them threw questions at the old man's face, whose lips creaked a bit. “Hmm, I don't know where she lives but I can tell you about her.” He said taking inosuke’s bowl to the counter for another refill.

The restaurant was almost empty so they went and sat on the round seats opposite of the counter.

“It was about four years ago when she appeared in my shop after kyojuro left….”

“umm excuse me…” you said

“Yeah young lady, what would you prefer?” asked the owner pointing at the chart hung on the wall which displayed all the items on the menu.

“I will take a hot tempura udon please.” said the girl beside you.

“And you miss?” The owner directed the question towards you. “Umm I will take anything you prefer.” “Ehh is that so? Fine, I'll make you the tastiest bowl of my special udon.”

“Just tell already…!” The girl beside you whispered into your ear, which was audible to the owner, he chuckled a bit. “Can you shut up….!!”

“I will if you say it…!”

“Okay fine!”

“Umm…if you don't mind, is there any way you can ask the address of the man who just left a while ago?” you asked hesitantly, fiddling with your fingers.

“Kyojuro you mean? I already know his residence, he made me deliver udon to his place before.” the owner said trying to keep his composure, young kids are just so bold nowadays.

“Is that so?” your eyes shined dreamily.

“Why harbored a crush on the man you saw a few mins ago? Hahaha!!” you felt blood rush to your cheeks as you couldn't find words to answer his question.

“She wants to thank him for saving her.” said the girl beside you. “Atsuko!” Atsuko just gave a smirk, ignoring how she threw you in such humiliation.

“Ah…if you don't mind then can you please deliver this letter to him anonymously. Don't tell him I asked you to send it. Please…I can pay you for that..”

“I don't need any payment. I will do that. You can just come and enjoy my special udon sometimes.” the owner accepted the letter from your hands, tucking it in his sleeves. “And maybe watch that man you talked about…he comes here around weekends.” The man hinted you the place which kyojuro normal has his lunch. And if you weren't blushing any harder, you felt your entire face burn with embarrassment. But you want to do it anyway.

Atsuko giggled beside you excited to see what happens next.

“So you delivered the letters in her stead?” asked zenitsu.

“Yeah…she kept coming back with letters for a good six months, if i remember correctly. Maybe kyojuro replied to them…”

It fell silent for a while. The only sound echoing was of inosuke slurping on the noodles.

“So, while you delivered letters rengoku san didn't knew her?” The guy with red eyes pointed the question at the owner.

“No i don't think so, she never came when he used to visit, that is, the weekends.”

“Can you tell us what was the name of her friend again?”

“Atsuko…if I remember correctly..”

“Can you describe how she looked?”

“Ehh? I can't really remember people's faces clearly, but she was very beautiful, big eyes with a nice soft skin. Her hair was long and dark. She had a soft voice. She looked like she belonged from a privileged family. So did her friend.”

“Oh is there anything specific you remember about her?”

“Hmm…let me think…if I'm not wrong rengoku once mentioned her name to a boy who tagged along with him. If you go to him i believe he could provide you some answers.”

“Really? Who was he?”

“His name was….daisuke I guess. He used to wear a similar black sort of uniform like kyojuro.”

After finishing their meal, tanjiro payed for everyone and thanked the old man for all that information. They went to a nearby inn and spent the night.

Tanjiro wrote some letters updating each one of their current status. And he sent a crow to kiriya requesting him to take a look if there's any former slayer named Daisuke and used to frequent his missions with rengoku.

The next day around afternoon, tennoji returned from ubuyashiki's. He said there was indeed a slayer named Daisuke. He had suffered severe injuries from the war and now lives in his village.

As directed by tennoji, tanjiro's crow, they went to the south east from their current position. After two days and one night of sleeping in the jungle without the fear of demons, a village appeared. It wasn't that populated. After asking a few kids, they showed the path which led to Daisuke’s hut.

“Umm excuse me? Daisuke san?”

“Yes, wh— ta…tanjiro….aren't you tanjiro?” the guy said, he was blind from one eye similar to tanjiro, with a missing arm and a limp leg. Tanjiro felt sorry for him.

“Yes, they are inosuke and zenitsu. Sorry for being a bother….”

“Oh no please come inside. I will get tea for you…” he said excited.

“Oh, you don't have to. It's fine. Actually we wanted to ask something….”

“Yeah? Please come in. I will surely help you as much as possible.”

They entered the hut and sat on the tatami mats. Even after pleading not to bring any snacks, Daisuke brought some rice crackers for them.

“Please have them.”

“You didn't have to.”

“Oh it's nothing. Now what did you wanted to ask about?”

“It's about y/n.” Tanjiro said as the rest simply focused on rice crackers. A hint of familiarity glistened in Daisuke's eyes. “Y/n? You mean the one rengoku san was madly in love with?”

Madly in love with? Tanjiro felt a pinch in his heart. Rengoku san must have adored you. The sealed letter had tear stains. Did rengoku cried while writing that?

“Ah…yeah…I need to deliver this letter to y/n but I don't know where she lives. Did rengoku san ever mentioned where she lived?”

“A letter? Why sent a letter when he was so adamant about that?”

“Adamant?”

“Yeah…he said that the pages limited his words to her. He was so desperate wanting to see her that he spent like 2 weeks searching for her without taking rest after his missions.”

“Seriously? So how are you supposed to recover from those injuries?” Daisuke said to his senior with an exasperated expression.

“It will heal when I get to see her face.” Said rengoku, bandaging the cut from a demon's blood arts whom he just killed.

“You're gonna exhaust yourself from build up fatigue.” The sun rays kissed the soil painted in crimson from the shedded blood.

“I will be fine. You go and take rest.”

“I can't believe you're going to find the creepy girl sending you creepy letters claiming herself as your wife.” Daisuke let you a sigh at rengoku's stubborness.

“In that case I gotta meet my wife.” Rengoku's laughter echoed among the vast field.

It still echoed in Daisuke's memories.

“So rengoku wasn't married…?”

“Naah. Honestly I think, after rengoku san’s mother died, he had faced severe neglect from his father. He was the oldest son of the family, so he had to be strong for his sibling. But sometimes we forget, even the strong needs someone to back for them. Even they need some kind words to let go all their tiredness and have a tight sleep. Even they need someone who assured them that they have a bright future…”

That's right. Tanjiro had seen how shinjuro, rengoku san's father, disrespected his sacrifice. He was so lost and depressed in his wife's loss that he forgot about the ones who need the most care— his kids.

Daisuke continued, “when the letter came from y/n, rengoku san must have read comforting words for the first time since that. He used to reread those letters a thousand times when he was free. Sometimes I wondered if he ever got bored doing that…but I knew he didn't. A starved man will eat anything. And I knew he was emotionally starving.”

Zenitsu and inosuke stopped eating rice crackers. Rengoku's death solely hurted them as much as it did to tanjiro, but they never thought it was that deep. That it was something beyond his life as a demon slayer.

Zenitsu could relate. After all he was an orphan. And rengoku was too, being in a situation similar to him, where his only parent was emotionally unavailable for him. He felt sorry for him.

No one dared to say anything. The silence was piercing their hearts like splinters of iron.

“Fun fact was that he did find her,” Daisuke chorted a bit before continuing, “and he literally begged her to marry him…”

Rengoku searched from cabin to cabin in the steam train. In the last letter you mentioned you were going to aomori to visit your relatives by train.

After a bit of negotiation he learned that there was only one train which was going to stop at aomori. This is how he ended up buying tickets at the last moment getting in the train, to find you.

He hasn't seen you before. He wondered how you would look. Even more beautiful and kind than your letters. Even more beautiful than the slight hooks of the curved kanjis you had written his name. Even more beautiful than the blazing sun.

He had checked almost the entire train. The content smile on his face has now thinned into pursed lips. He was nervous. What if he fails to find you? What if he never gets to find you? What if he never gets to see your face?

What if he didn't recognise you?

He flashed all the passengers in his head before lowering his head. None of them carried the same demeanor your letters did. He couldn't imagine any one of them being you.

He entered the last cabin. It was empty. However this cabin seemed a bit different. It had a narrow passage on the right with doors while the opposite side had small rooms. It seemed private. One previously booked by someone.

Rengoku turned back to return to his cabin when the door beside him shot open.

Inside was a girl, who seemed to have frozen for a while.

“Y/n?”

The girl’s eyes widened at the name which left rengoku's lips. She shut the door close, but it didn't closed, something was blocking it. The girl looked down, realizing rengoku had slipped his feet in to prevent her from doing that.

He barged the door open. “Y/n right?”

The girl remained silent for some time.

“I apologize to you with all my might rengoku san. Please forgive my intrusiveness.” you said, lowering your head, nervous at the sudden appearance of him.

“God you're even more beautiful than I thought…” you shoot your head up only to see him looking with such dreamy eyes at you as if you're the only thing he's ever wanted to look at. And it made your stomach churn. Guilt rushed in each of your veins.

“Rengoku san, i shouldn't have wrote those letters to you.” You say. Your friend had warned you before. You didn't listen.

“Why?” He took a step closer.

You gulped before answering,“i wrote nonsense, pretending to be your wife I'm very sorry yo—”

“Then don't pretend anymore.”

“Huh?”

“Be my wife.” Rengoku suggested. His face now inches away from yours.

“And then she ran away?” Said daisuke, barely containing his laugh.

“Yeah…did I do something wrong?” Rengoku said with visible confusion plastered on his face. It was rare to see any expression other than his smiling face.

“Of course she would run away.”

“and why so?”

“Rengoku san, a girl thinks about her future first after marriage. She knows nothing about you.”

“But she wrote me lett—”

“Which you didn't answered….since you thought you couldn't fit your words in papers.” Rengoku couldn't say anything in his defense. It was true rengoku never replied to any of your letters. When he received the first one he thought someone was pranking him. But then the letters came continuously, one each month. He slowly fell in love with those. He fell in love with your letters. And somehow, he fell in love with you.

“Then what do I do?”

“Be honest, tell her about your salary and your job, tel her you can take care of her needs.”

“Yeah? Kk I'm going then…”

Rengoku stood at the aomori station waiting for you to get on the train for your return. Upon spotting you, he called out for you. The train had a delay and he had a good 1 hour to make things clear.

“Eh? R-rengoku san!”

“I work in demon slayer corps. And currently I'm in the highest rank which is kinoe. I get a decent salary of 42,500 yen. I live with my younger brother and father. My mother died a few years ago from illness. I spend my day training, slaying demons and rereading your letters,” guilt rushed through your veins again. “I promise, I will fulfill all your needs and treat you like my queen.”

“rengoku san...”

“sorry i didn't replied to any of those, I just couldn't express myself much in writing. If possible I would like to crawl into a hole. However you don't need to worry. I will make sure that I keep you happy.”

You frowned at his words, unable to explain him. How could you do that to him?

“Y/n san, let's make the words on the letters true. Let's be husband and wife. I know that I work in an organization that isn't approved by governm—”

“Rengoku san, shall we walk while talking? We are blocking the road.” you change the topic, not wanting to talk about it.

“Sure.”

Rengoku continued telling you everything…everything about him. From his childhood till his mother's death. From his father's neglect, to his way up to kinoe, from his sword to the number of demons he slayed. You didn't believe in demons before, but now that rengoku tells you about this, demon folks is something you want to believe. You wanted to believe in everything he said. Even if he's telling the dumbest thing, far from reality, you wanted to believe it.

“Y/n san! Look here!” You turn back to rengoku.

Click.

“And did she said yes?”

“Maybe. He didn't mention her answer. He was so happy that finally he met her.”

“You must have seen her then…can you tell us how she looked?”

“I think I might have a photo of her. Rengoku san, asked to recieve a photo delivery, since he had a mission from the previous oyakata sama.” Daisuke got up limping to the one of the backrooms of his hut. He returned a few minutes later, handling a black and white photo to tanjiro.

Inosuke and zenitsu peeped from the sides to take a look at the long awaited moment, when they finally get to see y/n.

The photo was black and white, but tanjiro felt it was still colorful to rengoku san. In the photo there was a girl, young, with long beautiful hair, in a loose braid. She wore a flower hair ornament, which must have shone in gold back then. She was just how the udon owner described her, big doe eyes, pretty mouth, she looked educated. She was dressed in a floral patterned kimono. Zenitsu wondered what sort of colour the kimono would have been. He wondered if he could get a similar one for nezuko as a souvenir.

The girl was beautiful. Inosuke thought, she had similar smile to shinobu, he wondered if his mom’s smile was like that.

The girl's reflection reflected in several mirrors behind her, and one of the mirror had caught the reflection of the one clicking the photo— kyojuro rengoku.

“The last I heard from rengoku san, he said she wanted to meet him before taking the mugen train mission. He seemed happy, maybe she agreed eventually to marry him….if only he didn't…” Daisuke didn't finished the sentence, considering his surroundings.

They sit in deafening silence for a bit.

A bit later tanjiro thanked Daisuke for the rice crackers and his help. He asked if it were okay to take the photo with him. Daisuke had no problem with that. After bidding farewell they continued their journey, unsure what to do next.

After two days of staying at an inn, cluelessly with no idea how to find y/n, inosuke suggests to go to the station from where they got on mugen train.

“If we go to that lord's land and ask the people over there and show this painting of this long haired girl, then some might recognize her.” He had said.

“First of all that's a train station, second it's a photo. How can you still be the same stupid even after 3 years?” zenitsu cringed hard.

“wha—”

“Inosuke’s right zenitsu, we should go there and ask the people over there.” tanjiro said halting the cat and mouse fight which was about to start between the two.

Daisuke had said rengoku was about to meet her before the mission, which means before getting on the mugen train. Even if it is difficult, some locals must have seen even one glance of her.

The next morning, as per inosuke's idea, three of them left for the station.

“Umm excuse me…” said tanjiro, forwarding the photo in front of the local he stopped on his way, “can you tell me if you've seen this girl?”

The man gave a disgusted look at tanjiro. “no I haven't.”

“Ehh? Are you sure you haven—”

“I don't have time for bullshit.” He went off ignoring tanjiro. Strange. People here are less friendly, some even get irritated if stopped on their way.

It's almost lunch time, zenitsu and inosuke had tried to stop the locals as tanjiro asked them about you. It was clear that this ain't ending soon. Especially when they've got nothing good in hand.

“Let's go buy something to eat.”

“YEAH! I'M HECK HUNGRY!!”

“I saw a kid wearing glasses, selling bentos…let's buy some then…she went in that direction.”

Upon seeing the kid, tanjiro asked her to give them three boxes of bentos. It seemed similar to the ones they had three years ago. The girl was about to leave after receiving her payment, but tanjiro's instinct told him to stop her.

“Wait!” The girl turned back to him as zenitsu and inosuke watched him, confused. Tanjiro put his hand inside the sleeves of yukata, taking out the only photo they had of you.

“Have you ever seen this girl around here?”

The girl squinted her eyes behind the round glass frames,“y/n san! Isn't she y/n san…”

Zenitsu’s eyes popped out, he wondered if tanjiro's a mind reader or something, how can he be so quick?

“Yes! You know her? Can you tell us where she lives?” Tanjiro asked desperately.

“She never mentioned that to us…” the girl said frowning her eyebrows.

“Oh…how did you know her then?”

“Well, a demon slayer who saved us three years ago, requested…”

You waited for kyojuro to come. The sun shone brightly above you. The empty roadway started getting crowdy. You've had enough.

“Y/n san. You wanted to see me?” kyojuro had become a hashira now, and amongst his tight schedule he barely had time for you. It's not like you were disappointed, but still…you and kyojuro often talked through phone booths, after you've suggested that casually one day while strolling with him. Last week when he called you, after what felt like years, you said you wanted to meet him soon. ‘fine meet me at the near hinakawa station, I will be waiting.’ he'd said.

Though it was you, waiting for him to come. You've felt distant from him. And you didn't like it.

“I ran away.” You announced looking in his honey drizzled eyes. Though you aren't sure if it were your overthinking but those eyes seemed a bit dull today.

Kyojuro didn't say anything, maybe confused how to interpret your words.

“my family's against us. And I'm against them. I left the old relations to form a new one. With whom I love. Let's get married.” You said taking his hand in yours.

Kyojuro said nothing but wrapped you in his arms. You hugged him tighter, never wanting to let go. “I'm not alone anymore.” He said before nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck.

Yes. You've always wanted to hear these words from his lips. You've wanted to let him know that he's not alone even when he thinks he is. You wanted him to know that there's someone who will always support him even if he's father thinks he has no talent. This was the reason you wrote him letters in first place. This was the reason you let yourself get tangled in a world far different from yours— in the world of kyojuro rengoku.

He left soon saying he will be back after completing a mission. He said he will send someone to you and asked you to wait for him till then. And you agreed gladly. About half an hour later a girl wearing round steel rimmed glasses along with her grandmother appeared.

“Y/n?” You nodded your head at them. “Rengoku sama asked us to keep you safe till he gets back. If you don't mind then you can come home with us.”

You got to know from the grandmother, how the rengokus had saved their lives two times. You've never seen kyojuro fight, but you knew he was hella strong. Still your heart sinks into your stomach whenever he mentions a mission. You've never encountered demons, once you didn't even believed in them, and now here you are nodding at each of those demon tales of the grandmother.

It didn't mattered anyway as long as he comes back safe. You have to wait for a while for him to comeback….after all you weren't done….you still had an important thing to say.

“Then?”

“Then days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months, the slayer never made its return. She left eventually, thanking us. We told her to wait for a while more…but she was too stubborn.” said the girl, fixing her specks again.

Tanjiro couldn't believe what he heard. Rengoku had so many things going on in his life. He had more priorities than him and his friends. Someone who was more important. Someone who left her entire family for him.

Yet.

And yet.

He chose to save them sacrificing himself.

He wondered if the you hate him now.

Zenitsu and inosuke were too stunned to speak. All of them were on the verge of crying. To think…that he couldn't return because of them. To think that they played a role in ruining you happiness. That he died saving them.

“She said she was going to asakusa at her friend’s house, named atsuko.”

Tanjiro bowed at the girl, he couldn't manage thanking her, since he knew if he draws one more breath trying to talk, he would break down right there.

The three of them took a train to asakusa after eating those bentos. They looked similar because rengoku had bought the same boxes from that bento girl 3 years ago.

Inosuke was oddly quiet inside the train. The other two also barely chatted before reaching their destination.

Tanjiro had visited asakusa before and he didn't liked that experience very much. Especially the narrow lanes. This time the city looked more developed than before. And it was more crowdy too. They made their way as the girl has previously informed, that atsuko works as a teacher in a big school for aristocrats.

Coincidentally, tanjiro found the same vendor from his last visit. Back then nezuko wasn't able to savor his ramens since she was a demon. He wished he brought her along. They ordered a steaming bowl of ramen, as the vendor was delighted seeing tanjiro again.

“Where that bamboo girl you carried along with you?”

“She's at home right now.”

“Don't give my wife stupid Nicknames.” ,shouted the blonde at the vendor. Tanjiro apologized in his stead as he kept fuming. “So why are you three here all of a sudden? It's been long ain't it?”

“Yeah we're looking for a girl named y/n. She has a friend who teaches in a big school named atsuko.”

“Y/n never heard that sort of peculiar name…”

“are there any big schools in this area, where aristocrats study?”

“Umm…there are a lot of big schools, you could go and ask at the library. There's only one library here and all the school students or teachers borrow books from there. They must know something about that.”

“Oh really! Thankyou very much.”

Without any further do, the three of them went to the public library after eating.

“Woah this is so big.” Tanjiro said.

“It has so many books shall I borrow some for nezuko chan” zenitsu got lost in his dream world. Inosuke was quite whenever he gets in a new environment with a lots of people, so tanjiro didn't bother checking at him.

However, inosuke tugged on tanjiro's yukata pointing at something with his boar mask tugged on his head. Tanjiro could see his eyes popping out.

“What happened tanji—” zenitsu choked on his spit. Tanjiro’s jaw dropped, his mouth open wide. Inosuke was pointing at a picture hung on the wall. Tanjiro took out the photo hurriedly from his sleeves.

There's no mistake. This was indeed the same girl. Underneath the painting was written ‘princess akiko’ in bold letters carved carefully on metal.

“But isn't her name y/n?” Said zenitsu. What's going on? Before tanjiro could say anything, a woman in her twenties bumped into them while rushing.

The photo slipped out from tanjiro’s fingers.

“I'm so sorr—” the women's words halted as she looked at the photo lying on the ground in front of her. She picked it up before tanjiro could.

“Where did you get this picture from?” She asked as if it were a taboo to have this.

“Ahh you know y/n?”

“Y/n?”

“She looks similar to the girl in that painting” the boy with the boar mask declared.

“For the hundredth time inosuke it's a photo.” said zenitsu.

“She doesn't looks like her. She is her. She is princess akiko. The youngest daughter of the imperial family.”

What?

Three of them couldn't believe their ears. “But her name is y/n…” whispered tanjiro in a low voice.

“Just who are you?” She looked at the picture carefully, as if hiding it from the world, “isn't this rengoku?”

“You know rengoku san?”

“That's the man who saved us from a fire incident in an old town. And then became the main reason of the storms in akiko’s life.”

Tanjiro's eyes widened at the mention of the fire incident “Are you atsuko?”

The women nodded, surprised they know her name. Tanjiro, then explained the whole matter.

“I see.”

“This isn't right akiko…you shouldn't have continued writing letters to him in first place.” Atsuko said trying to persuade her not to run away.

“I can't. I can't live here. They will never accept him. And I can't live without him.”

“Akiko, try to understand…rengoku loves y/n.”

“And i am y/n!” The sound of the rain pouring down increased.

“You are princess akiko. Y/n is just a fake name, you created to hide your real identity when decided to write him letters. I supported you then since i thought it was a one time thing.” Atsuko shook the girl's shoulders trying to bring her to the path she considered right.

“But I don't wanna be akiko. I wanna be y/n…y/n rengoku.” Tears fell from the eyes in front of her as sobs escaped her lips.

“You're playing with rengoku’s feelings. Even if you run away, how do you intend to tell him the truth? You can't pretend to be y/n your entire life akiko.”

The girl didn't answered atsuko. That day slowly came to an end along with the rain. And Akiko did run away to rengoku, away from her pointless life, being a puppet in her family's hands.

“She returned a month after she ran away. When I asked him about rengoku she said nothing. Soon her brother came and took her away.” Whispered atsuko in a voice so doleful, that it was clear, it hurted.

“Did rengoku san knew she was a princess?” Zenitsu asked.

“He probably didn't. Akiko's family arranged several politicians later to set her up but she caused such a ruckus that her family gave up at last.”

“Do you know where she is now…i need to deliver this letter to her.” Each word tasted like bile to him. He couldn't even imagine how miserable it had been. You literally rejected a crystal palace only to live a normal life with him. Which didn't even come true. How feverishly would it have hurt? How apathetic fate was…

“She lives in osaka, running an orphanage. You would find her there. Shall I get someone two drive you three over there?”

“That will be very thoughtful of you” said tanjiro.

Atsuko arranged a driver, who would drive them to the orphanage, they expect to find you in. The car ride was even more silent than the train one. Inosuke, even, didn't make any fuss seeing a car for the first time.

‘So this is where princess akiko lives.’ thought tanjiro. The building was similar to butterfly mansion, nothing that luxurious but quite spacious. The driver left soon after dropping them.

They crossed several corridors of children buzzing like bees. Laughter echoed among the hallways. How wonderful of a place for someone who lost their parents. Similar to them. They wondered if they would have grown up in this orphanage if they were born here.

Finally they reached to what seemed like an office. Similar to one shinobu used when researching herbs, the one which kanao uses now. They entered with a knock.

“Y/n san?”

Your head perked up at the name, which once your beloved used to refer. That beloved who never came.

Your heart ached a bit expecting kyojuro. A melancholic smile forms on your face seeing three kids infront of you. Of Course it wasn't him.

“yes?” you said gently, trying not to give in to your emotions.

But tanjiro could smell it. He smelled the intense grief bubbling within you. He could imagine how long you've bottled up your emotions.

Without saying much, he took the letter out of his sleeve placing it on your desk.

“It's been waiting for 3 years.”

“Huh?”

“Rengoku san wanted me to deliver this to you. Sorry this took so long.” your hands froze at his name. Your chest heaved without even you realizing as you grab the letter.

A single drop of tear fell on the spot which had been previously stained with tears. Tears of kyojuro rengoku.

Your fingers shaked tracing your name on the letter. The name which he used to call. Y/n not Akiko.

You teared the seal, taking out a paper. It was filled with words. Words, he never thought he could express on paper.

Dear y/n,

If you're reading this, then I'm sorry. I might have broken my promise of protecting you forever because by the time you read it— I will be dead.

Y/n i wanted to tell you, that I've loved you. I have loved you from the very beginning. Before even I saw you. You were the one who protected the flame in my heart. While others told me to set it ablaze, you made me learn how to keep the flame burning.

You were as beautiful to me as the rising sun. So bright, so clear. You were the epitome of my life. I wanted to live a peaceful life with you, in which my father let's go of his depression. In which your family accepts us. In which we don't have to hide from others. I wanted you to have my surname.

Your words were like the first rain of summer to me. You saved me from quenching my thirst by your words. I have been starved…. starved for so long that I forgot what being hungry for love feels like. Until you came into my life. you healed my heart, handled it as if it's porcelain.

I thought papers were something I would never choose to express myself with. But look at me now. Haha. I don't know why I'm writing it now, but I just feel like, the time’s soon going to be over. And I feel like I will be gone without seeing your face.

Please don't hate me for that.

If I get to spend my life with you I will probably burn this off, but if this letter somehow unfortunately finds you…I want you to know, I gave my best. I gave my very best to save the ones surrounding me. That I fullfilled my duty till the end. So don't feel sad.

I still can't believe you chose to love me. If possible I would like to meet you in another birth, in another universe without demons, where I will be yours, completely yours. You're the best thing that happened to me, y/n. You're just perfect.

But I must say….you’re dumb for choosing a man who bets his life for others, leaving the silver spoon you had in your mouth.

Sadly, our time was limited in this birth. Good bye princess akiko.

~ your kyojuro

The letter fell from your hands. Your lips quivering as you barely contained your tears, which stained the letter.

You just managed a smile at the kids who brought you this letter. He was no more. And you couldn't believe that. He knew you were Akiko not y/n. The truth you weren't able to tell him.

“I'm sorry for making this long. Rengoku san died saving us from a demon, 3 years ago” said tanjiro, tears staining his cheeks. So do the others, barely containing their emotions.

“oh! But i-im glad you all are safe. H-he fulfilled his duties right?”

“Does it hurts?” Tanjiro asked.

“A lot.” And if he wasn't seeing things, he saw rengoku for one second with a silly smile on his face, maybe wondering how to comfort you.

The second he blinked his eyes he was gone. What remained was his letter. Tanjiro handed the photo to you before leaving. He wondered if in another birth he gets to see the both of you reconcile.

He took a deep breath wanting to return to kanao. Maybe he would just ask her to marry him this year. He doesn't want to waste anymore time away from her.

“Where were you?” Asked zenitsu to inosuke, who went missing for a while. They are currently waiting for a train to go back home.

“To buy this.” Inosuke showed a butterfly hair pin decorated with blue crystals. It was beautiful.

“Woah. Who did you buy it for?”

“Aoi.” Tanjiro chuckled at his bluntness, while zenitsu smirked. It's funny how inosuke still gets both of their names incorrect but he never made a mistake in saying aoi’s name correctly. Who knows they might have two weddings…

Now that tanjiro had finally payed off the debt, he wished you happiness as he looked forward to a happier future. He will remember you, not as princess akiko, but as y/n.

“Let's go! I can't wait to see nezuko!!”

“Zenitsu watch out your way!!”

766 notes · View notes

jjkarmy091 · 16 days ago

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Second Best - Jungkook

Summary: Being friends with someone who has your heart it’s already hard, let alone when that special someone ends up falling in love with your best friend, the one you think would never make anything to hurt you . Will you be able to ignore it and move on? what will happen when everything gets too much for you to handle?

Genre: Friends to lovers; angst; body insecurities; bullying; friend betrayel

Pairing: Jungkook x female!reader

Y/n and Sewoon have been friends for a very long time. They met each other on the playground nearby their house. Y/n was eating a strawberry lollipop when two boys tossed it away. Y/n’s face turned red and she was about to cry until a girl her age appeared. She was wearing a white dress with her midnight black hair tied into a ponytaile.

“That was so rude!” The girl in the white dress shouted.

“Well, she got the lollipop. Not me.” One of the boys grumbled.

“Apologize to her now! That's so rude of you. Gonna tell mom” The girl said sternly and calmly to her brother and his friend. The two boys huffed and said sorry to Y/n. Y/n looked at her in adoration. She was so young, just like her but she sounded way more mature.

“Thank you for that” Y/n said softly and the girl just smiled and offered her hand. “I’m Sewoon.” Y/n looked at her in surprise, it was the first time someone her age would talk to her nicely.

Y/n took Sewoon’s hand and smiled, “I’m Y/n.” Sewoon smiled wider when she heard Y/n’s voice and said, “Okay Y/n. From now on we’ll be the best of friends” And just like that, a fresh new friendship blossomed.

Y/n works as a waitress in a small coffee shop. She’s trying her best to save up some money to open up her own coffee shop one day. Meanwhile Sewoon, she’s a new uprising model and singer. It’s not that Y/n is not beautiful. Both girls are beautiful, just painfully different to one another. Sewoon has this luscious long black hair almost at the end of her back. Her eyes are a mix of brown and green, the most sweet eyes you’ll see. She has defined structured cheekbones and her smile is her best feature. Whenever she smiles, anyone would involuntarily turn their heads just to admire her.

Sewoon’s beauty can charm anyone in the room, while Y/n’s beauty is so soft and warm. Y/n loves wearing baggy sweater while Sewoon loves dresses that would show her curves. Y/n prefers the natural look while Sewoon loves the glamorous look. Y/n would love to sit back home binge watching a new tv series while Sewoon loves going out and meet new people. The two are total opposite but their friendship stays strong. They balance out each other well.

“Y/n!” Sewoon’s cheery voice broke Y/n’s attention from the old lady she was serving. She was waving and smiling widely that Y/n couldn’t help but smile back.

“Would that be all, mam?” Y/n asked politely and the old lady nodded and went back to the stall and gave the note to the people at the back. Y/n rushed over to Sewoons sitting near the stool bar.

“Is there anything I could help you, mam?” Y/n asked teasingly when she reached her best friend. Sewoon rolled her eyes and said

“You know what?”

“What?” Y/n asked trying to hide her excitement meeting her close friend. “I GOT SIGNED BY THE AGENCY TODAY! The one I told you about remember?” She shouted so loud with her eyes twinkling with happiness. Y/n mouth opened and she jumped so high giving Louisa the biggest hug she could. “OMG! NO WAY! I KNEW IT!” You worked so hard. I was sure you’d be able to get it. I’m so proud of you.” Y/n said hugging her. The two girls were so happy that they didn’t realize someone else has entered the coffee shop.

“Y/n! Lover boy is here.” Sana, one of your co-workers said. Y/n turned around and looked over to the other end of the stool bar to where her hidden not so hidden crush was. Jungkook was wearing button up clothes and smirked at her. Y/n flushed red and wiped some of the imaginary wrinkles of her aprons.

She then looked over to Sewoon and nodded quietly, telling her she needs to go back at work. She was about to walk over to Jungkook until Sewoon grabbed her arm, turning her back. “Is that the Jungkook, JUNGKOOK?” she whispered and yelled at the same time. Y/n’s face went even more red and it made Sewoon’s dimple pop up.

Jungkook is a regular customer that made Y/n’s heart beats abnormally fast. Y/n would always gush over Jk to her best friend. So it was obvious that Sewoon knew about him. It was a wonder why Y/n has not introduced him to her, maybe at the back of her mind, Y/n knew that Jungkook would fall over Sewoon and selfishly Y/n wanted him all for herself.

She reluctantly nodded and left to take jungkook’s regular order. “Y/n! I missed you!” He shouted exasperatedly that she lightly hit his head because all of the attention he attracted.

“Shut up, you saw me just yesterday.” she answered and jokingly rolled her eyes. “Is it hard to believe that I miss my favourite girl?” He smiled so big that made her heart skip a beat. She was turning red and jungkook laughed knowing how easily Y/n can be flustered.

“So what is it that you want today?” Y/n asked him while pretending to be uninterested. “just the regular as always.” he said still smiling at her. “Hey..Who’s that girl?You know... The one you were talking before coming here” Jungkook nodded his head at where Sewoon was standing, smiling down at her phone glowing like a beautiful goddess.

Of course Jungkook would notice her, who doesn’t? Just the thought of them together made Y/n’s heart crumpled and an unwanted feeling rising at her pit of the stomach. Y/n cleared her throat and smirked, “That’s my best friend.” She answered confidently to cover up her heart breaking into pieces.

“You’ve got a really pretty friend there and you didn’t even think of introducing me to her?” Jungkook grinned so wide knowing that Y/n would eventually give in.

“Well, you’ve got too many competitions and the probability of you getting her is too low.” Y/n sassed her crush and Jungkook mocked hurt.

“You know? For a second there I thought you were jealous.” He answered smirking which made her cough, “Oh please, why would I be?” while Y/n’s heart thumped loudly.

“If you’re not jealous then I dare you to introduce me to her.” Jungkook stated confidently and for a sudden second Y/n felt her heart crumble and break a little. But she was a very stubborn girl and her pride got into her way. Although at the back of her head she hoped Jungkook was different. That somehow, he would choose her over Sewoon.

“Ughhh, fine… only because you’re THAT desperate.” Y/n groaned and gives in. With every steps she took, her heart felt heavier and heavier because she knew. She knew that Sewoon would snatch Jungkook from her. Even if she didn’t intend to do so.

-- --

As soon as Y/n introduced Jungkook to Sewoon, her heart broke. Jungkook’s eyes looked at her best friend with such admiration. He fell head over heels for her. It was no surprise to Y/n because it happened countless of times.

Whenever Jungkook pays a visit to the coffee shop, the once silly banter turned into a question and answer about Sewoon. He would ask simple questions about her. What’s her favourite ice cream flavour? What’s her favourite flower? What’s her ideal man?

All the questions Y/n would know about him but never once did Jungkook ask those questions to her. Sometimes he would prefer to gush over Sewoon in front of Y/n which squeezed her heart every single time.

“My god! Sewoon’s recent picture on Instagram was perfect. She looks absolutely gorgeous in that pink dress.” He said with his eyes shining with adoration and lips curved upwards. Y/n could only nod her head, “She’s always gorgeous.”

“That, My friend, is right.” jungkook said nodding his head while pointing his index finger on Y/n. She felt like her heart was ripped apart and shoved back inside her stomach. She hated this so much but couldn’t even think about a way to avoid this feeling.

“Anyways, I gotta go! I’m picking up Sewoon tonight.” He hurriedly grabbed his things and waved her goodbye. Y/n nodded her head with her eyes brimming with tears but Jungkook was way too far to notice those tears. It was just the middle of the day yet Y/n felt ultimately tired. After hours that definetely felt like years she’s finally back at home.

She was preparing some food for herself when she heard a knock on the door. First being startled, but then remembered that the only person who could be it was Sewoon, since she is one of the only people who knows where she lives. Opening it, she stares at Sewoon and lets her step in her small apartment, smile lighting up the whole room. It made Y/n happy for a second until she remembered the reason behind that smile and that it was his favourite feature of hers which made her mood turns sour.

Sewoon ran inside and gave Y/n a quick hug and helped her out. When the both of them were bundled in the living room with thick blankets and some food on their hands, Sewoon’s hand turned fidgety. She was watching the movie but her mind wandered far away. Y/n didn’t fail to notice her best friend weird behaviour that made her ask, “You okay, Sewoon-shi?” She turned her head to look at Y/n her eyes full of panic and Y/n’s heart clenched at what was the reason behind that reaction..

“Do you still like Jk?” She asked timidly.

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows and asked, “Jk?” Sewoon cleared her throat and smiled, “Jungkook.” Oh, she got a nickname for Jungkook already.

“Why do you ask?” Y/n smiled widely that may seems like she’s teasing Sewoon. “Do you still like him, Y/n?” She asked persistently that hammered Y/n’s heart. She took a deep breath and asked, “Do you?” Sewoon’s head glowered and nodded softly. Y/n’s heart dropped but managed to give her a convincing smile.

“He likes you too you know, both of you would look great together.” Y/n said softly and reached her arms out for Sewoon to give her a hug.

“You think so?” she asked Y/n once again, unconvinced. Y/n closed her eyes and nodded her head knowing that if she opened them Sewoon would straight away know she was lying.

I mean who was she to stand between two people that liked each other? She always knew she wouldn’t stand a chance with someone like Jungkook. Was she ever gonna be made for someone to be honest? She always tried so hard not to feel less than everyone else, but loving herself was never something Y/n was able to do. Not when everytime she was into someone or something that was immediately taken from her.

When Sewoon felt Y/n’s head nodding she squealed. Which only made her stomach churned and tears burned inside her eyes threatening to spill which she only closed and tried to sleep it off, in hope that Sewoon woudn’t notice.

It was gonna be a long night, and Y/n already regretted open the door for the girl she always thought was her best friend.

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merlieve · 5 months ago

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bibliophile :: jess mariano

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 & 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐬

𝐏𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐬: 𝐍𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐬𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Note: i wrote this while listening to “si tu m’aimes demain’ by iliona + the intro is inspired by 500 days of summer, so that’s basically the vibe of the story 😋 Ik there isn’t a market for GG fics but I just love me some Jess.

SUMMARY | Jess says something about how it’s a shame that people arent as beautiful and interesting as books, but he looks at [Name] and realizes that she could be the only person who could be compared to the books he loves.

The soft glow of Luke’s Diner’s sign casts a warm ambience onto the quiet street, the last remnants of daylight as it settles to the night sky.

Inside, the diner was practically buzzing with people, the sounds of plate clattering and a few conversations filled the air.

Ring. The sound of someone coming inside alerted Jess but he didn’t bother to stand up from the bar stool.

“The Old Man and the Sea? I love Hemingway!”

Jess was so caught up in his world that he failed to notice the girl seated next to him at the diner countertop. “Excuse me?”

“I said I love Hemingway,” She repeated, now gaining Jess’ full attention. “You have good taste in books.”

“Thanks, uhh?” — “[Name]” The girl said with a smile. ‘A pretty name for a pretty face’ thought Jess, looking at the girl beside him up and down.

“If you read Hemingway, I’d suggest Bukowski if you’re into poetry.” She recommended, looking down at her nails as she was slightly nervous by the way the boy was looking at her.

“I take it you like classics.” Said Jess, putting down his book.

“Oh, I like any genre! Mystery, historical, sci-fi… you name it.” Smiled [Name] as she rambled about her interests.

Jess found it adorable. “Quite the bibliophile, aren’t ya?”

“Guess you could say that, stranger.”

He was just about to ask for her number when someone came behind the counter.

“Jess, your break’s over.” Said Luke, glancing over the teenagers in front of him.

“Well, duty calls.” Sassed Jess, grabbing his book by the counter but not without giving the girl a wink. “Bye, stranger.”

Ever since that day, Jess couldn’t seem to get [Name] out of his mind and it didn’t help that she was everywhere; the quaint bookstore, at school, the library, even at the Walmart he works at, and that’s at Hartford!

If Jess had learned anything by being [Name]’s friend is that he knew that the way to her heart was to challenge her.

The two could make a conversation about just about anything, whether it was debating the end of The Bell Jar or trying to find the best coffee place in New Haven.

When she talked about her favourite books, Jess had the time of his life listening to the passion in her voice. And it wasn’t only him. Whenever Jess talks, [Name] sounds like she’s actually interested in whatever he’s talking about.

They’d exchange books, they’d lend each other books and return them fully annotated with their own opinions. They’d have study dates after school, which skyrocketed Jess’ grades by a ton and he even helped [Name] out with her AP classes. They’d go to each other’s houses to have movie nights, [Name] would pick some kind of chick-flick and he’d be “mad” at first and then grow on to love it.

Every time he spent time with her, his blooming crush would only grow and grow. At some point, he realised that his feelings for [Name] went beyond simple platonic attraction and not only did that scare him from having a genuine friend at Stars Hollow but it was how he couldn’t contain it.

Not to mention, Luke started to get sceptical when Jess said he was going to school. Since when did Jess actually go to school?

“I’m leaving!” Shouted Jess with a book bag slung across his shoulder as he closed the door.

Luke’s curiosity got the best of him and he followed Jess to a house. He knew it, Jess was lying, again. But right before he was about to reprimand him, a girl who seemed about Jess’ age walked out of the house, she looked a little familiar.

The two seemed to talk to each other for a bit before walking back… in Luke’s direction.

Luke had no choice but to hide in the prickly bushes to remain hidden from his nephew’s sight… ouch.

Later that Day

“Why’d you got a bandaid on your nose?” Asked Jess, referring to Luke’s earlier injury.

“It’s nothi- just shut up.” Challenged Luke as he walked over to refill a few coffee mugs.

A few hours passed until closing time and the diner was starting to get empty. Just when Luke was about to clean the countertops, the front door opened. It was the same girl Jess was with before.

She approached the counter with a friendly smile, the kind of smile Luke hadn't seen in a while.

"Hi, is Jess here?" Asked [Name], her eyes wandered around the diner.

Almost on cue, Jess walks out of the kitchen and greets the girl with a smile. “Oh, great. Are we throwing a fiesta or organising a pity party? 'Cause, you know, I'm just on the edge of my seat here.” Babbled Jess.

"Jess, I got a 95 on AP Bio!" The girl excitedly says, holding a paper in the air. "Really? Let me see," he replies, walking over to her.

“What, you don’t believe me? Well, it’s there and it’s in a big red mark with the words ‘Fantastic’!” She eagerly hands it over, her eyes shining with pride.

“Look at that, Ms. Fantastic,” Smiled Jess as he looked over her paper. “You hungry? It’s Danish day. C’mon it’ll be my treat.”

After hearing the news, [Name] gasped, “It’s like the stars were aligned” She giggled, taking a seat at the nearby table.

Once Jess walked over to the counter to grab a freshly cooked Danish, Luke cornered the boy.

"So, what's the deal with you and that girl?” he asked, his tone more curious than accusatory.

Jess shrugged, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Just helping her out with her AP classes. Turns out, I’ve got a brain in this pretty little head of mine."

Luke raised an eyebrow sceptically. "And since when did you become the tutor type?"

Jess rolled his eyes, “I like her, she reads Hemingway.” He said as he looked at [Name] who was still walking on cloud nine.

Luke nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "She’s a good influence on you, kid. Don’t screw this one up, okay?"

Jess scoffed, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, well, don't go spreading that around. I've got a reputation to maintain."

#merlieve’s fics ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚#gilmore girls #jess mariano #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano fanfic #gilmore girls x reader #gilmore girls fanfic #jess mariano x y/n #jess mariano x you #jess mariano imagine #gilmore girls imagine #drabbles #jess mariano fluff #fluff #gilmore girls fluff #gilmore girls x you #milo ventimiglia

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kokomyass · 9 months ago

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Genshin headcannons ☆ Traveller finding out that you are in a relationship with genshin characters

Genshin x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Alhaitham

synopsis: in which, traveller and paimon find out you are an ✨️ITEM✨️!!!

Notes: you are immortal in Neuvillette's part, you are a bad bitch in Wriothesley's part, you are part of the Academia for Alhaitham's part and hella shy

a/n: it was NOT a narrow win, this one won by far...so I hope you enjoy!!

also I might do a part 2 depending on how many people like it....and if you want any characters added just drop me a message 💜⭐️💜⭐️

Neuvillette

The Traveller and Paimon had decided to make an unexpected visit to the Palais Mermonia to see Neuvillette and Furina since they happened to be in Fontaine.

"Hey Sendene!! We are here to see Neuvillette and Furina!!" Paimon shouted out floating happily.

"Hello Traveller, Paimon. You see Neuvillette is currently away but you can make your way over to his office, he shouldn't mind." the Melusine said happily

"Thanks Sendene! See you!!" The Traveller and Paimon opened the doors to Neuvillette's office only to be met with an unfamiliar face.

You were sat down reading a book, with one leg crossed over the other deep in the book that you don't notice the two individuals walk in the room.

"Ummm...Hello there!! Whoever could you be?" your head shoots up to look at the Traveller and Paimon a look of suprise and happiness on your face at the same time.

"Ah! The infamous Traveller and Paimon!! Neuvi has said so much about you! It's so nice to finally meet you." you shoot up and hold the Traveller's hand, shortly moving to patting Paimon.

"You sure are energetic....but you never answered my question!" Paimon shouted putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh dear...that's my bad hehe...I am Y/N, its lovely to meet you!"

"Nice to meet you too Y/N!! So what are you doing in Neuvillette's office? You must be awfully close to give him that nickname" Paimon asks as the Traveller looks a bit confused as to how you had gotten so close to Neuvillette and how they didn't know who you were.

"Well I am Neuvillette's-" just as you were about to explain your presence, Neuvillette and Furina walked through the office doors making you smile warmly.

"Neuvillette!! Furina!! You run up to them giggling.

Furina walked through first, making her the first victim to your hug.

"Ah! Y/N!! It's nice to see you too" Furina smiled softly as she hugged you back.

"She's close to Furina too?! Just who is she?!!!" Paimon shouted feeling in the dark as the Traveller already had their suspicions...

"Oh how did you not know? She is Neuvillette's..." Just as Furina wanted to reply to Paimon's exclamation you squealing turned all their head in your direction.

"Neuvi~ I missed you..."

"Hello, my dearest. I too missed you an immense amount." Neuvillette said warmly making Paimon and the Traveller shocked at the love in his eyes and Furina unfazed by it.

You went on your tiptoes and wrapped your arms around Neuvillette's neck hugging him before placing a soft kiss on his lips before pulling away and handing him a cake box.

"I took a break from work to bring you a cake but now I'm gonna go...have a nice day at work and I'll see you at home!"

"I cannot wait to see you at home my dear, stay safe."

Neuvillette cups your face and places a kiss on both cheeks as you give him the cake, hug him tightly and pack your things.

"It was lovely to meet you guys!! Maybe we can meet up sometime!! See you Furina!!" you smile and wave to Paimon and The Traveller and Furina as they stare at you dumbfounded as you walk out the doors and Furina smiles and waves back.

"It is good to see you two, how have you been faring?" Neuvillette smiled turning to the Traveller and Paimon.

"UH...ERM....ARE WE GONNA IGNORE THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM??!! WHO IS Y/N TO YOU?!" Paimon screamed as Neuvillette held a neutral face.

"Oh Y/N is my wife. I didn't tell you because I didn't want to put her in danger."

"That makes so much sense...its quite cute actually!! I can't believe THE Chief Justice has a wife!! For how long?" Paimon seemed to be extremely amused as the Traveller sighed at how dense Paimon was.

"400 years"

"SAY WHAT??!?!?"

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

Wriothesley

"Erm...can you hear that Traveller?" Paimon sounded uneasy as the Traveller gave her a look of uncertainty at whatever was currently going on in the Duke of Meropide's office.

There was currently shouting going on that was so loud that a few people gather around his office to see if they could get anyone the drama. (that the only entertainment they get down there)

"WELL IF YOU DIDN'T PUT MY CAKE IN THE BIN THEN I WOULDN'T BE HERE TO BE HONEST, WRIOTHESLEY!!"

"UGH Y/N I TOLD YOU, I CAN GET YOU A BETTER ONE!! PLUS YOU ARE SO LOUD THAT I BET EVERYONE IS OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW!!"

"OH REALLY MR DUKE?? I LIKE THAT ONE CAUSE YOU MADE IT!"

"Y/N YOU AND I BOTH KNOW IT TASTED LIKE DIRT! AND STOP SHOUTING!!!"

Outside the office people were mumbling different things.

"Damn her sentence is gonna be for life if it wasn't before...."

"She's a soldier...."

Sigewinne showed up next to the Traveller and Paimon with an fed up look on her face.

"They are at it again...." She sighed and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Sigewinne!! Just what is going on in there?" Paimon asked as the Traveller flinched at another shout.

"You better go see for yourself..." Sigewinne pushed the Traveller and Paimon in the office and they climbed up the stairs to see a random woman and Wriothesley stop arguing to look at them.

Your demeanor changed completely as you turn your body to face them fully and smile.

"Oh hello! You must be the Traveller, and her cute little friend Paimon!" you smile softly as Paimon giggles and the Traveller greets you.

"Don't make Paimon blush!! However, the main issue is why you guys are shouting so much!!" Paimon places her hands on her hips like an angry mother.

Just as you started to calm you started getting heated.

"Traveller, I wouldn't usually be so desperate...but I could really use your help..."

"Hush it, Wrio." Paimon and the Traveller look at each other in shock.

Not only were you rude to THE Duke of Meropide but he also listened to you.

"Well, funny you guys asked....my HUSBAND here made me a lovely, beautiful delightful cake...last night which I enjoyed immensely!"

"Y/N-" Just as Wriothesley wanted to start you gave him a glare that shut him up.

"I REALLY enjoyed the cake, but my husband insisted it tasted like ass....so this morning after he had gone to work and I wanted to eat this cake I wake up to see it in the bin. So I am simply asking my husband to explain himself."

You fold your arms directing your attention back to Wriothesley.

"Wait....wait...wait...YOUR HUSBAND????!?!? WRIOTHESLEY THIS IS NEWS TO ME...." Paimon shouted as both the Traveller and Paimon both put their hands on their hips.

Wriothesley sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.

"Guys....this is Y/N my wife of 3 years."

"Not for much longer is you keep this up."

"Y/N!! I'm sorry okay, I will make another one for you tonight." You immediately perked up and smiled warmly as you gave him a tight hug he returned, before you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"There we go, it wasnt hard was it! Anyway, I gotta go back to work...see you guys around and see you tonight, Wrio." you waved as you walked downstairs and left.

It was silent for a few minutes as the Paimon and the Traveller stared at Wriothesley in disbelief.

"I didn't want to tell you in these circumstances but-" Wriothesley started

"YOU BAKE??!!" The Traveller and Paimon spoke up in sync.

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

Alhaitham

It was a lovely day and The traveller and Paimon were walking through Port Ormos, just as a little relaxation walk.

"Hey Traveller, isn't that Alhaitham? Let's go say hi!" The Traveller nods and they both go and say hi to Alhaitham despite him talking to you.

You turn your head and notice the Traveller and Paimon approach your boyfriend so you tapped him while he was talking so he would turn around.

"Ah, Traveller and Paimon. How are you? What brings you here?" Alhaitham turns around as you shyly stand behind him hoping they don't notice you.

"We are great! Just came here for a walk. What about you."

"I am discussing things with my partner...." Alhaitham glanced back to you suggesting you make an appearance as you only cower behind him, gripping his arm tight.

"Uhhh....I'm assuming that's them behind you in the Akademiya uniform." Paimon says crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in confusion.

Alhaitham nods before turning around and grabbing your shoulders, steering you infront of him. "Introduce yourself Y/N..."

"H-Hi....I am Y/N...." you don't say much before wrapping your arms around Alhaitham tightly and shoving your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you smiling faintly (not going unnoticed by The Traveller)

"Sorry, she is usually really shy..." Alhaitham deadpanned.

"How on earth can she be your partner?" Paimon asked kind of shocked that he was tolerant enough to work together with you.

"She is actually a very valuable asset. I don't appreciate your language." Alhaitham said it neutrally despite the cold look in his eyes.

Before anyone can say anything tou mumbled out from Alhaitham's chest.

"I wanna go home...." you squeezed him tighter as he did the same.

"Well, we are going home now, she seems a bit overwhelmed so we will catch you another time." Alhaitham says moving away making Paimon and The Traveller feel a bit weirded out at how close they were for partners.

"Hey wait!! I'm sorry I said that....I didn't mean it...are you scared of us?" you looked away from Alhaitham's chest smiling slightly at them but not letting go.

"I'm scared cause you guys are so cool, Alhaitham told me all about you!" you spoke softly before turning away and earning a head pat from Alhaitham.

"Well done for speaking Y/N, dear." Alhaitham said as you looked up at him and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"EWWW! JUST WHAT TYPE OF PARTNERS ARE YOU?!?!" Paimon shouted as you and Alhaitham shared another small kiss before walking away.

"Romantic partners and work partners."

"WHATTTT!!"

☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•~•☆☆•

a/n: I'm probs gonna do a pt. 2 just because j wanna write scara too and wanna make sure I haven't written too much...anyways I hope you enjoyed 💜✨️💜✨️💜

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rlimagi · 4 months ago

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Can you do bridget with a villain GF. Like major Sunshine x Storm or whatever

Perfect Revenge

Pairings: Bridget x Villian! Reader

Genre: Fluff with a splash of reader being a menace <3

Warnings: evil activities?

Note: Hi!! Thank you for your request, this is a bit short but this is the first time I’m writing for Descendants so hopefully you’ll enjoy this! Also thank you everyone else for the requests, I’ll start writing as soon as I get more ideas<3

“Sweetheart, you need to stop being so nice to people who don’t deserve it!” You frowned, voice raising higher and higher the longer you thought of Uliana who recently dropped a bucket of green paint over Bridget’s head.

It was humiliating for Bridget but she still forgave her, the thought made you more angry by the seconds.

“Calm down, baby. The school’s going to flood soon if you don’t, just…it’s fine just stop thinking about this.” Bridget being the angel she was, intertwined your hands with hers to calm you down even when she was the victim of a petty prank.

You sighed, your emotions got the best of you to the point that you didn’t realize that you summoned heavy rain upon the school grounds.

You lifted your eyes off the ground to see other students running inside the school, trying their best not to get too wet.

“Okay, fine…sorry but really, if she touches even an inch of your body again, Ursala might need to come on land to find her precious baby sister’s remains.” You said, smirking as you eyed Uliana and her gangs who were strutting to god knows where but you know it’s not to etiquette class.

“That’s well…good enough! Thank you baby, now stop sulking and go back to class!” Bridget smiled gleefully, giving you a kiss on the cheek before running off to her class before giving you a chance to respond.

Your face reddened at the sudden kiss even if it was only on the cheek. Bridget had always had this effect on you, even in the darkest of days she’ll somehow make it all brighter.

But just to your dismay, Uliana appeared in your sight again but this time she was alone. A smirk rose up your lips. “Sorry, Bridget. You’ve let Uliana off way too many times. She wants to play with fire, but I’ll give her all the elements.”

You silently followed her into the forest, waiting until she was too far from another living being aside from yourself to strike.

You stood on one of the branches of a tree, luckily the trees in the magic forest was big or else you wouldn’t have been able to hide so easily. “Uliana~” you sang out, your voice echoed into the darkness, scaring the living soul out of the villian.

“Who’s there!” Uliana shouted, trying to seem threatening but you could read her like an open book. She was trying her hardest not to tremble

“Is that how you speak to a friend?” You pouted, faking an innocent look as you jumped right in front of her.

“You!” Uliana screamed, her body fuming in anger but before she could utter another word you snapped your fingers. Then her lips was moving but no words came out.

“I?” You asked, pointing to yourself as you tilted your head to the side. “I what, Uliana?” your smile grew wider as the speed of her lips moved faster and faster, yet no words seemed to be coming out.

But clearly, Uliana wasn’t about to let you off so easily. She glared at you and was about to sprint to your way when you ordered the vines on the ground to pull her onto the ground, tying her whole body to the sharp grass.

Let’s say what happened next wasn’t very pretty.

“Yn! Guess what! Uliana hasn’t been bothering me at all lately, I think she liked the cookies I gave her!” Bridget smiled joyfully, placing the plate of cookies aside before running up to you to give the warmest hug ever.

You melted into her touch, nodding to everything she said. “Of course, who wouldn’t like my princess’s famous choco chip cookies.”

Bridget blushed at what you called her, “Your princess?” she pulled away from the hug for a bit to look right into your eyes, it was filled with love and adoration.

“Only mine, got it?” You claimed in a joking manner, grinning when she playfully pinched your cheek.

“Of course, silly.” Bridget cupped your face before pulling you in for a sweet kiss, a kiss sweeter than all the sweets in the world combined.

After pulling away from the sweetest you wished to never be apart from, you saw Uliana from the corner of your eyes. She looked like a deer caught in headlights after noticing your eyes on her, immediately she ran out of your sight.

It was you who made Uliana stop her bullying towards your girlfriend but no one needs to know about that. Especially Bridget, your girlfriend should never know that you tortured someone for hours just for her.

#wlw #rise of red #descendants #Descendants: The Rise of Red #Bridget x reader #descendants 4 #Bridget #queen of hearts #fanfic #descendants x reader

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mingis-orangejuice · 3 months ago

Text

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part 4: Sylus

Summary: You and Sylus are strolling through the park and see a kid get hurt, you both step in to help him, but Sylus may be a little too scary for this kid.

a/n: I love making Sylus do embarrassing things. It's just too funny to me. he'll do anything for MC even tho he tries to act like he doesn't care

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 637

Previous Parts: 1, 2, 3

You and Sylus were taking a stroll in a park enjoying each other's company when “ouch” a little boy tripped over some rocks right in front of you on the path. He didn’t immediately get up which made you both concerned.

“Child are you ok” Sylus bent down to tend to the boy. The boy looked up and saw Sylus looking down at him with his red eyes and started to cry. Sylus froze, he didn’t know what to do now that this kid was crying. The normally cool under-pressure boss of the N109 zone was now suddenly rendered speechless by one child’s tears.

“Sylus you’re scaring him,” you say and push his chest to move him out of the way

“I simply asked if he was alright, is that all it takes to scare some people nowadays?” he asked sarcastically.

You bent down to see what was wrong. “Hun are you ok, that was a pretty big fall wasn’t it?” the child looked at you and stopped crying, softly shaking his head yes still with tears in his eyes. “Aww, it's ok, do you need help getting up” You slowly lift him into a standing position which is when you notice that he has a small cut on his arm. “Oh no did you get cut?” The child looks at his arm, tears start to form once again. You don’t want him to start crying again so thinking on your feet you quickly look through your purse for something that could help him. You take out some band-aids with cute heart designs on them and a bottle of water.

“Look my two friends showed up Mr. Water and Mrs. Band-aid” You hand Sylus the water giving him a desperate look hoping he’ll play along “We’re here to help you,” you say in an enthusiastic funny voice while holding up the band-aid. The kid started to laugh a little. You looked up at Sylus who was standing over you, pleading with your eyes for him to join in.

He sighs, bends down and in an equally funny but less enthusiastic voice says, “Yeah we’re here to help so don’t cry anymore.” the kid wipes his tears and laughs a little more.

Continuing in your funny voice you say “Can Mr.Water take a look at your arm” The kid nods and holds out his arm. It's just a little scratch with a small amount of blood. Sylus quickly assesses his arm and pours a small amount of water on the child's arm and wipes it up with a tissue from your bag. “there now that you’re all clean up it’s time for Mrs. Band-aid to take over”

You place the band-aid over his scratch and wipe the last of his tears away “There, all better now?” you say in your regular voice.

The kid looks at you then at Sylus and smiles. “Mmm hmm, thanks” a voice from a few feet away calls out for the kid, he turns, noticing it’s his mother he takes off in that direction shouting. “Mama a pretty lady and a scary man helped me when I fell over, they were really nice!”

You look at Sylus and almost burst out laughing

He puts a finger over your mouth. “Don’t start. I give up my dignity to help this child and he still calls me scary?” Sylus crosses his arms in fake annoyance.

You remove his finger from your mouth “Well I guess that's what happens when you’re the big bad Onichynus leader, kids will always be scared of you” You say with a mischievous grin. As you continue your walk.

Sylus grabs you by your waist and turns you to look at him “Well let's go home and see if the ones we make won't be as scared as he was.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds #sylus #love and deepspace headcanon #love and deepspace scenarios #love and deep space #lnds #lads #sylus x reader #sylus x mc #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x mc #creative writing #writing #fan fic #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus x you

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godslino · 7 months ago

Text

IN BLOOM | jisung first date series. second chance lovers.

pairing: jisung x fem!reader word count: 13.2k genre: childhood friends au, angst, fluff, songwriter!jisung, florist!reader warnings: swearing, minor character death, grief/loss (nothing to do with any of the members!) summary: it's february. the tulips are in bloom. jisung is back.

a/n: *taps mic* hello?? is this thing on?? oh good. yes. hi. hello! it's been a while, as most of you can tell. thank you all SO MUCH for sticking around. if you've been reading my asks you'll know that march and april were rough months for me personally. shout out to my anons and mutuals who kept my spirits high and made my days brighter. uhhh, this was originally supposed to be a stand alone fic but i figured hey, what the hell, and made it into jisung's first date chapter. it's pretty heavy stuff. lots of feelings, lots of love. i hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it! again, thank you so much for waiting for me. i'll be back soon with more updates! all the love <3

also thank you kenzie for being such a light during all of this. i hope all my screaming in your messages was worth it!

“All of these had to be pulled.” Hyunjin huffs, dropping a few crates just past the doorway.

“Again?” you ask, hands on your hips as you stare at yet another wasted supply. “I don’t understand, they sold so well last year.”

Hyunjin gives you a sad smile. “It’ll pick up eventually, don’t worry. I mean the holidays just finished and business usually slows down in the months after anyways.”

He’s being sincere, you know that. But there’s a part of you that also knows it’s a lot more than just the usual ebb and flow of sales. He’s being nice for your sake.

“Maybe we could try coming up with other ideas?” he suggests, because Hyunjin is nothing if not kind. Always willing, always finding a way.

He moves past you to grab a fresh pair of gloves. The ones he’s wearing are dirty, pollen-stained and ripped at the edges.

“You’ve always been really good at basket arrangements. We could try to make some for Valentine's Day. Different sizes, maybe? The big ones will probably do well for online orders since they’re more optimal for things like office deliveries and stuff like that.”

You hum in approval. “True. I mean, I was kind of worried we would have to skip out on deliveries this year since we don’t have the manpower to handle all of that, but I think Jeongin’s been looking to pick up hours around here again. He said something about his program giving them a month of independent study, so he’ll be home for a bit.” you say, scribbling down a reminder in your notebook. “I could ask him to help with driving the truck in his free time?”

Hyunjin lights up– he always does when Jeongin is mentioned.

It’s been a lot quieter ever since he left for college. There were so many tears and so many hugs that were met with countless 'you guys are dramatic's in return. But it’s hard to not feel sad when people leave town; when they decide the borders lined with apple trees and rice fields aren’t enough to stop their dreams from blooming into more than what’s capable of being pursued here.

That, unsurprisingly, is something you know all too well.

“Can’t believe he’s driving.” Hyunjin laments as he wipes his floral scissors with a rag. “I used to spend my days changing his diapers and spoon feeding him redbulls– but now? Driving? My baby is all grown up.” he fake sniffles. “By the way, I’m gonna take my fifteen after I’m done snipping these tulips.”

You snort, bending down to take the crates of wilted flowers to the back for disposal. Hyunjin moves to help but you shake him off.

“Sounds good. Also, don’t let Innie hear you say that. I’m about a thousand percent sure he has the strength needed to throw you into the dumpster with one arm now.”

“My baby would never do that to me!” Hyunjin calls out as you round the corner, bumping open the back door with your hip.

February brings a lot of rain in Jeju. Today is no different; fat drops landing on your head as soon as you stumble out into the alley behind the shop. Footsteps heavy on wet brick, you curse under your breath as you run as fast as you can to the dumpster.

There’s still a few supply boxes from yesterday’s shipment laying around. You meant to bring them in, but you were so exhausted that it slipped your mind while you struggled to make sure everything inside the shop was figured out.

Scrambling, you haul them in one by one, shoes squeaking against the floor as you alternate in and out, soggy cardboard pressed against the front of your apron.

Hyunjin’s on break. A necessary one at that. You can’t bother him, especially not when he’s done enough by taking on more responsibility both as a physical worker and a newly actualized business partner recently. A few stacks of boxes and wet hair seem like a fair trade off for what he’s had to sacrifice in the past year now.

“Idiot,” you mumble, cursing yourself for carelessness. Your slip ups have been more frequent lately, evident in the way you constantly forget things and can’t seem to push away the haziness clouding your mind.

If it weren’t for the timing of it all, you’d blame it on the weather. The gloominess. The overcast skies probably have some sort of hand in your lack of clarity. Shrouded.

But it’s February. And in Jeju— it rains.

By the time you make it back inside, you’re drenched.

“You look like you just got dunked in a pool.”

You frown, ringing your hair out into the trash bin by the door. It’ll definitely take time to dry off, both your hair and your clothes are soaked through.

Hyunjin watches with an amused look, arms crossed as he leans his back against the counter.

“Might as well have. It’s insane out there.” you sigh. “How was your break?”

You look up to find that his face has gone unreadable.

“Yeah, about that…” Hyunjin trails off, voice suddenly smaller than before.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s just–” Hyunjin chews at his bottom lip.

You push past him into the supply room to switch out your apron just as he says, “Do you mind if I leave a little early today?”

You scoff, turning to face him. “Hwang Hyunjin,” you scold, lips twitching when he visibly startles at your tone, “You don’t have to ask me that. We’re partners now, remember? We run this place.”

He shifts on his feet, still unsure.

“Besides,” you huff, tying a knot behind your back, “We were friends way before that, too. You don’t have to be all proper with me. Of course you can leave early. It’s slow today, I can take care of it.”

Hyunjin sighs after contemplating for a second. “Are you sure you’ll be okay, though?”

When he stares at you for a moment too long, you know the real reason for his hesitation. It makes something twist deep in your gut.

Guilt, maybe, amongst other things.

“Of course.” you shrug, doing your best to seem nonchalant.

Hyunjin’s ability to read people is kind of intense, a little scary at times. You happen to be one of his favorite subjects in that regard.

“Have fun. Tell Minah I said hi.”

He pales, sputtering around words as he struggles to say something. It’s cute, his plump lips opening and closing, eyes wild.

“I’m not going to see her! I’m–it’s just a movie! How did you—God, you’re so annoying. I should’ve made you trim the tulips. Hah!”

You giggle. “It’s funny that you think I wouldn’t know, especially with the way you love to actually make yourself look busy whenever she stops by to say hi.”

“I am busy.” he mumbles, looking away. “I just emphasize it a lot more when she’s here.”

“Sure,” you roll your eyes, “Let’s go with that.”

He whines a couple more times, trails after you around the shop and laughs when you swat him away with a rolled up newspaper that’s used for wrapping vases.

It’s loud. Easy. Hyunjin is a gentle reminder that normalcy still exists in your day to day, even if it’s hard to find.

When he finally decides to leave, he lingers for a moment, triple checks that you’ll be okay. You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time today, but deep down you’re grateful.

“Love you,” he says, one foot out the door. “Call me if you need anything.”

You shake your head, ignoring him. “Love you too.”

And then he’s gone, a skip in his step as he heads down the sidewalk, leaving you with nothing but freshly-trimmed tulips and the sound of rain.

“Herb snips, shears, tape…” you mumble, scanning the supply shelf.

There’s not much to do in-shop right now. Almost all the arrangements have been tended to by Hyunjin already, his specialty being his keen eye. That’s why he handles the appeal of the shop, leaving you to figure out all the logistics. Learning it all was easier said than done.

In reality, it was never your intention to take over the shop at all.

“When I die,” your grandma would always say, ignoring the way you groaned and begged her to stop bringing it up, “Sell this place. Use the money for something worthwhile. A trip to Greece, maybe?”

“Nana,” you would scold, glaring at her where she stood next to you, trimming a batch of roses.

Wrinkled hands that still held all the skill of youth. Fingers moving at a speed others could only ever dream of having– you included.

Your grandma handled flowers with the same amount of care she did everything else. It’s no wonder that when they grew they would lean in her direction, drawn to her like they would be the sun.

“I’m not selling this place. It’s too special, too important. A vacation only lasts so long, Nana. This is forever.”

She would smile, turn petals over in her hand. Sometimes the marigolds would match the glow in her eyes, a testament to the belief you harbored as a child that she had the ability to sprout blossoms from her fingertips.

“The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.”

You wish you hadn’t been so hard headed. Wish that you would’ve believed her, taken the time to listen, cherished the moment a little bit longer instead of relying on the promise of tomorrow.

I’m sorry for your loss.

Your grandmother was a wonderful woman.

She’ll be with you in your heart, forever.

Oh, what a lie forever is.

The shop stays empty for the rest of the day. There were a few passersby, all of whom simply stopped to scan the arrangements along the windows before giving a polite nod and carrying on their way.

Realistically, the shop has no problem with attracting customers. It’s a sight to behold: mid-floor to ceiling windows with various displays, hanging baskets of winding greenery, countless arrangements that fill the shelves and add a pop of color, and a wide assortment of flowers for each season.

The real issue lies in your inability to sell. Most people regard the place as being good for nothing more than window shopping and the usual photo-op.

Business has slowed since your Grandma passed; since you took over as the sole owner and were suddenly face to face with the task of making decisions in the shop’s best interest– both integrity wise and from a business standpoint.

“I know, I know,” you say around the pen cap between your teeth, “You used to be the brains around here, not me. I’m not creative enough for all of this, you know? No matter how much I try to be.”

You look up from where your notebook lays open, dozens of scribbles for arrangement ideas and planning. The picture on the wall stares at you, unmoving, eyes as bright as marigolds.

“Don’t give me that look.”

She stares. A gaze that holds all the answers while also saying nothing at all.

“Ugh.” you groan, leaning your palms on the desk.

You allow your head to hang forward, defeated, exhaustion flooding your bones.

Just as you’re about to speak again, to complain about yet another thing that probably has her rolling around in her grave, the bell at the front counter dings.

The clock on the desk reads 6:55pm, five minutes until close. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in.

“Be right there!” you call out, rushing to grab your apron from where you’d thrown it on one of the chairs.

In your haste, the box of seed packets you’d been inventorying goes tumbling to the floor.

“Fuck,” you mutter, bending down to pick everything up. One more thing to add to the list today.

Off-kilter. Disoriented. Exhausted.

You sniffle a few times, blinking against the sting behind your eyes as you stand up to put the box back in its place.

One deep breath, a shake of your shoulders. Just enough to chase it all away until later.

“Sorry about that,” you say cheerily, pushing past the hanging beads that separate the front of the shop from the back. “How can I help you?”

There’s a stranger, his back turned, attention focused on a batch of tulips. Freshly cut. White, blue, purple.

You realize, belatedly, that you’d forgotten to grab your apron in your haste to clean up the seed packets. Another slip up. Nana always prided herself in her apron, wore it like a badge of honor, raised you to do the same.

Just as you spin around to grab it, the stranger says, “It’s okay. I just, um, I wanted to say hi.”

You freeze. There’s a long moment where his voice rings loud in your ears, reverberates against the walls of your brain until it travels through your blood, the feeling like wildfire in your veins until it settles deep in the pit of your stomach.

Slowly, you turn, heart clamoring in your chest, threatening to stop altogether as soon as you come face to face with the one person you never thought you’d see again.

Because there, at the front of the store, is Jisung.

Jisung, with wide eyes and parted lips. Jisung, with hair that still curls at the ends and falls in shags around his face. Jisung, broader, more actualized, now grown into his features but still undeniably soft around the edges. Jisung, with thick framed glasses pushed up his nose and silver hoops dangling from his ears.

A stranger. But undoubtedly Jisung.

“You look…nice.” he says, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

Three words is all it takes. Ice turns to fire. The blood that had drained from your face returns with the blaze of a thousand suns, anger burning your throat.

You reach forward, grab the remote for the neon Open sign and click the power button. Jisung watches in confusion.

“The shop is closed.” you manage on a shaky breath.

Jisung sighs, something heavy. “Listen, I’m—”

“The shop–” you try again, louder, “–is closed.”

Jisung stares. His eyes are still the same velvety brown; big and round and just as you remember.

There was once a time where the sight of Jisung in your Grandma’s shop made your heart sing. A soft tune, the thrum of a thousand harps, a song only for him.

His heart-shaped smile as he helped her hammer some of the shelves onto the wall. The sound of his laughter whenever you’d enter a sneezing fit from accidentally rubbing your face with a gloved hand. His rosy cheeks, burnt from the wind whipping past his face as he ran on foot to make sure you were okay the one time an angry customer smashed a vase on the floor and you called him crying.

But now, seeing him here, a stranger in a body you once knew like the back of your hand— it feels wrong.

“I…” he trails off, registering the way your fists are clenched at your sides.

“Okay,” he resigns, licking his lips. “I, uh– have a good night.”

He gives you one last look, bottom lip pulled tight between his teeth, and then slips out the door. You watch his retreating figure through the glass panel, dark gray skies muting the sound of your rattling heart.

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is back.

And in Jeju– it rains.

There’s an apple tree in the middle of town where Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time.

Off the corner, a few minutes down the road from where your houses stand a mere five hundred feet away from one another.

Your grandparents were farmers. Your grandma started her floral business a few years before you were born, a dream she always had that your grandpa urged her to pursue once he decided to sell the animals to a younger, more capable couple that could take care of them.

Jisung’s parents, new residents on the island, looking to settle down and start a family.

That’s how it happens. Yours and Jisung’s story, two authors of the same book, destined since the start.

Jisung was born on the same night your mother left you at your grandparents’ doorstep. One note, an apology, is all you’ve ever known about her. Your grandma never cared to indulge you. You’re glad in a way. She provided more than enough love to make sure you never felt an absence in her wake.

The townspeople used to say you and Jisung were soulmates. Something about the heavens knowing he would need a friend, hence why you were delivered that night. From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable.

Attached at the hip, you and Jisung grew up together. First steps, first birthdays, firsts for everything under the sun.

Jisung was there in the morning to walk with you to school and he was there at night when the two of you tucked into bed, sleepovers a regular occurrence, both of you counting the pale green stick-on stars dotting his ceiling until you fell asleep.

Jisung was always around. He held your hand and walked with you to the nurse’s office the first time you got stung by a bee. He wiped your eyes when the boy you liked told you he only ever saw you as a friend, your first rejection. He sat with you under the stars the night your grandpa died, your face tucked into his neck as you stained the collar of his shirt with tears until you were too tired to cry. In the years that followed, he took care of you and your grandma like the two of you were his own.

Jisung, for lack of a better word, was your first forever.

“You could come with me, you know.”

Under the stars, real ones that time, Jisung had turned to you and offered the world.

The air was cold. The apple tree was bare.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll be together, we’ll experience new things. I can do music and you can study all that history stuff you like to learn about. You know, nerdy things.”

“They’re not nerdy things, Ji. Don’t you know everything we have now is because of what’s happened before us?” you’d asked. “Doesn’t it make you wonder? Learning about the past helps us better understand the present, and ultimately the future.”

Jisung had hummed softly, an agreement. “I don’t care about the future, though.” he’d said. “I care about right now. You, me, this.”

When you turned to look at him, he propped himself up on one elbow and stared down at you from above as the moon casted a halo around his head.

“I love you,” he whispered, “And I want you to come with me.”

Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the ambition to make it his own.

You, with all your hopes stuffed tight into a suitcase and chained to a boulder, thrown into the ocean. Sinking and sinking until it hit the bottom.

“I love you too,” you whispered back.

Images of marigolds flashed behind your eyes when you closed them, a tear rolling down your cheek. Jisung’s mouth was soft when he kissed it away, salt on his lips. Burning.

“But I can’t.” you choked.

Under the apple tree, Jisung told you he loved you for the first and last time. He promised that the distance would be no match for him, that he would traverse oceans to find his way back. He promised forever.

It was February. The tulips were in bloom. Jisung left to pursue his dreams with a guitar on his back and your heart in his hands. Your understanding of forever was shot at point blank. The bullet passed clean through you.

And in Jeju– it rained.

“I think you should talk to him.”

The sun is out today. Perfect weather for another field harvest. The distributor had called you early in the morning to ask if you’d be willing to accept a drop off even though it’s the weekend. You’d agreed, calling in your most reliable help for the job.

“And I think you’re not helping.” you huff, snipping the head off another hyacinth.

“Agreed,” Hyunjin parrots from beside you, currently in the middle of putting together an arrangement, “This guy sounds like a total dick.”

Chan sighs from behind the two of you, his knees knocking against the legs of the desk when he swivels back and forth in the chair.

Besides Hyunjin and Jeongin, both of whom moved into town after you’d already graduated, and of course, Jisung– Chan is your oldest friend.

Chan was also a neighbor of yours. Three years older than you and Jisung, he was the one who acted as a role model for the two of you when growing up. Nowadays he helps his parents run the largest orange grove on the island during the day and DJs one of the clubs in the tourism hub at night.

“Jisung’s not a dick, he’s just–”

“An asshole.” you finish, smirking when Hyunjin cackles.

Chan sighs. Again. “Yeah okay, I’ll give you that one.”

“Listen, I know I’ve never met him, but isn’t it weird that he just, like, showed up?” Hyunjin asks, setting down his scissors. You continue trimming the hyacinths, listening halfheartedly.

“I mean, think about it. Dude disappears to pursue music, right? He’s gone for what– three years?”

“Four.” you correct.

“God, even worse.” he grimaces.

“But yeah, okay, four years. And then boom! He just strolls in through the front door without so much as a word during the time he was gone? No letters, no phone calls, not even a damn visit. Nothing! All so he can pop up and go ‘oh, you look nice’? Come on.” he scoffs, crossing his arms.

You wince, caught off guard because you’ve never really heard it phrased as bluntly as Hyunjin put it just then. It’s no surprise that he’s annoyed, having only just heard the full story thirty minutes ago. He’d been shocked, partly because you never told him and also because he just couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Okay, yes, he was wrong for that. But isn’t part of you even just the least bit curious as to why?”

You pause mid-snip, mulling Chan’s words over in your head.

The most frustrating part about it all is that you are curious. You wish you weren’t, though. Not when you’ve spent the past four years trying to convince yourself that you don’t need to know what Jisung’s been up to, don’t need to know if he’s been okay since he clearly held no concern for you in that regard anyways.

“What?” you ask when you realize that both boys are staring at you.

“Well?” Hyunjin pushes. “Are you?”

You shrug. “No, not really.”

There’s a total of five seconds that pass before Hyunjin is stomping over and hauling Chan up out of his chair, pushing him towards the front door as he protests.

“Out! Out, out, out, we have important business matters to discuss.”

“But we were supposed to get lunch—!”

“We’re taking a rain check!” Hyunjin fights back, shoving him out of the shop before he has a chance to answer. He drops the shade to cover the glass, Chan’s sad figure left alone on the other side.

You gape at him. “What was that for?”

Hyunjin scoffs. “You think you’re convincing? Think again.”

He hops up on to the counter and gestures for you to do the same. When you do, he pulls you closer, grabs your hand in his, and pushes your head down until it’s resting on his shoulder.

“Tell me the truth now,” he says, soft. “I know there’s more to it.”

Hyunjin’s warm to the touch. The heat seeps through the fabric of his shirt, igniting the skin of your cheek until you feel like you’re standing too close to the sun. A star. Hyunjin is a light in your tunnel.

“I am curious,” you start, “About him, I mean. I’ve– I don’t know. It’s been so long. I tried to pretend I didn’t care when I saw him, but the minute I looked into his eyes it was like I was eighteen again. Eighteen and happy and looking at someone that I always thought would be there, you know?”

Hyunjin hums but doesn’t say anything. He squeezes your hand once, a signal to keep going.

“I’m scared, though. Part of me doesn’t want to know.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath. “What are you scared of?”

Through the gaps in the beads you can see into your office, the picture of your Grandma hanging on the wall. She stares at you, unblinking.

“What if he tells me that it’s true?” you ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “What if he says that I was right, that he didn’t care? That he left and didn’t want to call because it no longer mattered to him? That he loves his life there and only came back to clear his own conscience?”

“Oh honey,” Hyunjin soothes, pulling you into his chest. You hadn’t realized you were crying, that the anger and fear had bubbled over until there were tears falling down your cheeks, wetting the fabric of Hyunjin’s sweater.

He lets you cry for a while. It’s nothing new; Hyunjin has seen you break down countless times. He’s been there through the worst of it, held your hand even in the aftermath. He’s picked you up off the floor more times than you can count, has grounded you when you felt like the world was gonna open up beneath you and swallow you whole. Salt of the earth, returning you to its core.

Once you’ve quieted into nothing more than shallow breaths and a few scattered hiccups, Hyunjin speaks again.

“Can you be honest with me?”

You nod, the hair stuck to your cheek with tears rubbing against his shoulder.

“Do you love him?”

It nearly knocks the wind out of you. This concept, so foreign to you now, shoved to the back of your mind to make room for the things that matter most. Hospital visits, labor cuts, wage increases— none of it left any room for love, let alone the thought of someone else. Especially someone as all-consuming as Jisung.

Slowly, you inhale, breath shaking on the exhale. Hyunjin squeezes your hand to remind you that he’s there.

“I don’t think I ever stopped, Hyune.”

The silence stretches thin. The realization is dizzying. Years of suppressed emotions, of telling yourself and everyone around you that it wasn’t a big deal. The sad eyes of the townspeople whenever they’d see you sitting beneath the apple tree. The gentle touch of your grandma’s hand when she’d find you on the front steps alone, staring at the stars. The soft hum of the radio in the shop, set to a playlist of all the songs he’s written, the only reminder that somewhere out there he was doing well.

The final crack in the dam, its water pushing until it gives way.

“Then you owe it to yourself,” Hyunjin says. “You owe it to your heart to get an answer. Free yourself from this pain, love. Don’t let yourself suffer forever.”

Forever. That word again. No matter how many times you’ve tried to escape it, it always comes back.

“It’s gonna hurt.” he sighs, tightening his grip when you sniffle. “It’s gonna hurt so fucking bad, babe. But you can take it. You’ve got people who love you enough to stand in front of you and soften the blow from time to time. But you’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

He hops down from the counter and moves to stand in front of you, right between your legs. Placing both hands on your shoulders, he pushes until you’re sitting with your back straight and lifts your chin.

“You deserve an answer.” he says, with conviction this time. “Okay?”

He lets his thumb swipe beneath your eyes, smiles softly. Unconditional— that’s what he is. Hyunjin burns brighter than any star in your sky, the heat wrapping its arms around you like it’s too scared to let go, to watch you freeze and die out like so many others.

“I don’t deserve you, though.” you say, laughing wetly when he rolls his eyes.

“Shut up,” he chuckles, pulling you in for a hug, “You deserve everything and more.”

When Jisung comes into the shop two days later, you’re ready for it.

Chan had talked to him. No surprise, really, not when he’s been letting him crash in his spare room ever since he figured out that he was holed up in one of the hotels out in the tourism hub.

If there’s one thing about Chan, it’s that he’d rip the shirt off his back to clothe anyone in need. Housing a friend is nothing, especially when that friend is Jisung.

“I don’t know how much of a consolation this is,” he’d said nervously, watching as you regarded him with an expectant look, “But he’s pretty cut up about you not wanting to see him. Which, I know, is stupid. He is the one who fucked up. But I just– I don’t know. I’ve never seen him like this, I guess.”

It’s not a consolation, not really. Knowing that Jisung is struggling is far from anything you want to hear.

Sure, there’s anger present. Anyone would be stupid to not feel the least bit frustrated with what’s happened. Years lost, time stripped away. But you’ve long since come to terms with it, the anger turning to sadness in the meantime.

“Also, he leaves tomorrow.” Chan smiled sadly. “He really wants to talk to you before then.”

Hyunjin left early again today to give the two of you space. Not before making a show of his own though, threatening to incite violence with his arms that are supposedly ‘shredded’ from years of lifting boxes filled with petunias.

The shop is slow again, not many sales nor a lot of foot traffic. Usually when the sun is out there’s more to do; people to see, smiles to give. But there’s nothing, just the chirping of birds and the sound of cars rolling by.

Maybe the world knows that this is what you need. The calm before the storm.

Five minutes until close. You’ve spent most of the day pacing back and forth. Waiting. Anticipating.

Chan had said Jisung planned on stopping by, trying again. You’d told him that was okay, and his eyes lit up. Too much hope, maybe, that something might come of this.

You’re seated in the back office, staring at marigold colored irises when the front door opens. You hear it this time, ears fine tuned, waiting.

Slowly, you stand, make your way to the front. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you pull back the beaded curtain and Jisung’s figure comes into view.

He looks the same as he did the other day: curled hair, thick glasses, parted lips. His sweater, fluffy and striped, hangs off of his shoulders in a way that boxes off his tapered waist, one that you know is hidden beneath all the layers. The sleeves are way too long judging by the way it curls over his fingers.

“Hi.” he breathes out, watching as you step into full view.

You blink. “Hi, Jisung.”

His name feels weird on your tongue. Bitter. It’s been years since you uttered it, forbidding yourself from the luxury out of fear that it would make his absence more real. Talking about him in the past tense always scared you off before you could even get the chance.

“How– How’ve you been?” he chews on the inside of his lip.

You want to scold him, tell him to stop the habit just like you always would in the past. He’d make a joke then, tell you to kiss him so that he had something else to do instead. You would laugh, feign disgust, but in the back of your mind you’d wanted it more than anything.

You’d waited for it, the day you could kiss him without warning and melt into his touch as he kissed you back. Another stupid bet on forever; the belief that you had all the time in the world for things to get to that point.

“I’ve been better.” you say, taking a deep breath. “What about you?”

Good, you think. He’s been good. He looks good. He doesn’t need this place.

“Me too.” he says instead. “I’ve been better.”

You don’t know what to say to that. Silence fills the room, heavy on both your chests. The anticipation feels like it might kill you before anything else does.

“I’m sorry that–”

“Is that all you came here to say?” you cut him off.

“What?” he asks, confused. “No, I– no.”

“What, then? What is it you want to say, Jisung?” your voice is firm. He winces when his name leaves your mouth. “Because, honestly, I’ve waited all this time to hear literally anything from you, and if all that comes out of this is that you’ve ‘been better’ I might actually lose my fucking mind.”

The words tumble out faster than you intend. You can’t help it, not with the way anxiety has been bubbling over in your chest since the moment you woke up this morning. You could barely sleep last night, not when you were playing out every possible scenario in your head, the anticipation of it all making your sheets feel scratchy against your skin and the lumps in your pillow more discernible.

“No, no, of course I wouldn’t do that.” he says quickly. “It's just that I didn’t know where to start. I don’t know how much you’ll allow me to say, what the boundary is here. I didn’t want to just barge in and demand you listen to me. You don’t owe me that. You don’t owe me anything. Not after what I did.”

What I did, his voice rings loud in your ears. He’s aware of it, of the pain he caused.

He takes a step forward, and then another, again and again until he’s right up against the front counter, an arm’s length away.

Your breath catches then, when you see him up close for the first time in four years, see the way he’s grown and changed with your own eyes.

Stubble dotting his chin, laugh lines around his mouth, the dip and curve of the bow above his lips that you always loved. Brown eyes, soil and stardust.

“Tell me what your conditions are,” he says quietly, “And I’ll give you every explanation I have.”

The sincerity on his face is blinding. Your stomach twists at the thought of hearing what he has to say, that same fear brewing in the pit of it. You take a deep breath, feel the phantom ghost of a hand squeezing yours and a crescent moon eye smile.

“I waited four years for you.” you say.

“I know.”

“I trusted that you’d be back. That you would keep in touch during the time you were gone.”

“I–” his voice cracks. “I know.”

“You lied to me.”

Jisung tips his head back then. Swallows down a lump in his throat. Blinks rapidly at the ceiling, veins of ivy crawling along the expanse of it.

“I know.”

“So you owe me everything. I deserve that. I deserve answers.”

When he brings his head down to look at you, it’s unreadable. A mix of emotions that you aren’t familiar enough with anymore to decipher. Fear, guilt, sorrow. Hope, too. Maybe.

You stare at him head on, fully letting your eyes meet for the first time in what feels like an eternity. He holds your gaze, unwavering. Determined. The sight makes your heart clench.

“Okay,” he says after a beat of silence. “Okay. I can do that.”

Despite the ever-growing mountain of things to address, you decide that the first thing you want to hear from Jisung is about his time in Seoul.

You’re only human, after all.

Best friends from the start– you can’t stop yourself from wondering what life has been like for him. Jisung’s always been good at storytelling, animated in his features and gestures to the point that you’d be rolling around and clutching your stomach from laughter. It’s one of the things you missed the most, just talking and being present in one another’s lives.

The two of you end up at one of the diners down the road. The owners, an elderly couple, coo as soon as they catch sight of you.

“My flower girl,” the old lady, Mrs. Kim, greets.

“Mrs. Kim,” you beam, moving in for a hug. When you pull away, Jisung is behind you, hands clasped behind his back and feet together like he has his tail between his legs.

“Halmeoni,” you say, gesturing at him, “Do you remember Jisungie?”

His eyes go wide at the nickname, and you try to ignore the heat creeping up your neck, avoiding his gaze and instead watching as Mrs. Kim blinks in surprise.

“Oh! Oh my goodness, our Jisungie? Honey! Honey, look, Jisung is here! Oh you crazy boy,” she scolds, rushing forward to hit his shoulder and pull him in for a hug. “Where have you been? It’s been ages!”

Jisung lets out an oof! as her body slams into him, all of his anxiousness dissolving into laughter as he hugs her back.

“Hi Mrs. Kim, how have you been?”

“Me?” she asks, pulling him away to hold at arm’s length, “Nevermind about me! I’m old! How have you been?”

Good, you think again, a mimic of earlier. Jisungs eyes flit over to yours for the smallest of moments before he answers.

“Better,” he says. “I’m doing better.”

Once both Mr. and Mrs. Kim are done doting over the both of you, they seat you by the window.

The island is always beautiful on sunny days: trees swaying, golden rays painting the rooftops in hues of pink and orange, the indigo shimmer of the ocean off in the distance.

“So,” you say, catching Jisung’s attention, “Tell me about Seoul.”

He hums. “It’s busy. Stinks. Lots of people.”

“Dream come true, yeah?” you joke, taking a sip of your water.

Jisung chuckles. “You could say that, I guess.”

“I mean, it was yours.”

“It was.” he sighs, looking down at the table. “I don’t know. It’s nice. I met good people, made even better connections. I live in this one bedroom studio apartment just outside of Itaewon, so I’m close to where all the foreigners hang out. I’ve learned a lot, gained a lot of inspiration for my music.”

You follow along, staring at him intently. His mouth, still heart-shaped, twitches when he catches you in the act.

You clear your throat, glancing away. “Yeah, I’ve– uh, I’ve heard some of your songs.”

He raises his eyebrows, almost like he hadn’t expected you to say that. “Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, I hear them on the radio sometimes.” A lie. “It usually takes me a second to realize that it’s you.” Another lie. “But they’re good, you’re doing well.”

Pink dusts the tops of Jisung’s cheeks as he turns back to the window, clearing his throat.

He looks younger like this, like he’s still the same boy who would sit across from you all those years ago. Cherry-stained lips and a smile so bright it put the sun to shame.

He talks a bit more about his music, about how he’s with a good company that gives him creative freedom and enough support to pursue more if he desires.

His eyes light up when he tells you about his studio, a small room on the fifth floor of a building in the middle of the city where he does all of his writing. It’s equipped with an entire soundboard, full of instruments that he says he’s been able to get signed by artists that come in and out. Most notably, his guitar, the same one he left with.

Slowly, like a flower blossoming, petals opening one by one, you feel yourself falling back into step with him.

Everything is so familiar: the curve of his smile, the tilt in his voice when he gets excited, the rumble of laughter when he recounts an embarrassing run-in with an A-list celebrity in the company’s cafeteria. He shares stories that fill your heart as the two of you fill your stomachs.

But with the ease comes something more, something you recognize as longing. You hadn’t realized how much you longed to be there through this part of his life, how you wished you’d been the one to answer a video call as he showed off his apartment the first day he moved in, his company badge when it was newly issued, every moment of happiness that you’d been absent for just as much as he was absent for yours.

He seems to share the same sentiment then, when he sets down his fork and stares at his empty plate.

“You run the shop now,” he says, “How’s that been?”

You purse your lips, nodding your head slowly. You knew this conversation would happen, that it was coming.

“It’s good, I guess. Been almost a year now since, uh, it was left to me.” you shrug. “I’m not alone though, Hyunjin is a big help. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jisung noticeably bristles. Eyebrows pulled together, staring more intently at a crumb on his plate. It looks like there’s a lot he wants to say, like he can’t find the words to say them.

So, naturally, you do it for him.

“I assume Chan told you so I wouldn’t have to, by the way.”

He looks up then, as if he wasn’t expecting you to address the very obvious elephant in the room.

“He did, yes.” Jisung says after a while. His voice is quiet, gentle, like he’s walking on eggshells. “I– I didn’t know how to bring it up. I assume you’ve heard it all already but– I really, really am sorry to hear about Nana.”

The way her name sounds coming out of his mouth turns your mind to static.

Suddenly you’re in the hospital again, monitors beeping, hands as soft as petals cradled in your own and wishing that you could bury your face in a familiar neck as you cried and watched the marigolds wilt.

“I don’t need an apology for that.” you croak, blinking back tears. Jisung is somewhere in your periphery, your vision blurry around the edges.

“It wasn’t sad. Her life, I mean. It was full. Of love. Of light. She left this place happy. That’s what she told me, at least.”

You take a deep breath. “So don’t be sorry about it.”

Jisung sniffles, and the sound shoots straight through your chest.

“I know. I just– I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should’ve been. I had no idea that–”

“Nobody did, Jisung. Don’t punish yourself for that.”

He sees it then, when you finally meet his eyes, the acceptance. You’ve come to terms with things a long time ago, have fought tooth and nail to come out on the other side of all the guilt and resentment and grief alive. Scathed, but alive nonetheless.

“You’re right.” he sighs, wiping at his eyes quickly. “She’d probably yell at me for saying that.”

You laugh, suddenly, the noise startling him. Jisung looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I think she has a lot more to yell at you for than being sorry that she died.”

The bluntness punches a chuckle out of him, and you giggle at the thought.

Your grandmother was always such an outspoken person. She always said what was on her mind, speaking it loud. There’s no doubt that if she was here she’d be berating Jisung, smacking him upside the head before pulling him into a hug and cooking his favorite meal. Tough love, but still, love.

“She would’ve loved to be able to see you.” you say once your laughter dies out, the air a bit lighter between the two of you. “She always wondered if you’d grow your hair out without her around to nag you about keeping it short.”

He reaches up to run a hand through his curls, the strands falling around his face in a way that has your heart stammering in your chest.

“Well, clearly I don’t know how to listen.”

“No, you don’t.”

Jisung smiles softly. “Maybe I’ll cut it now. You know, since I’m here. And because I know she’d want me to.”

You watch him carefully, searching his eyes. For what, you don’t know. All that’s in them are stars.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “You’re here.”

By the time the two of you leave the diner, stomachs full and enough bags of extra side dishes hanging off of your arms to last you at least two weeks, courtesy of Mrs. Kim, the sun is almost fully set.

The ocean is calm, the evening breeze just barely brushing the surface of the tide. Jisung walks in step with you down the street, one side of his face cast in a glow from the sun’s fading rays.

“Do you think you’d maybe want to stop by the arcade that Old Man Park runs? Just for a little?”

You snort. “Why? So I can embarrass you?”

“Hey!” he puts a hand on his chest, offended. “I’ll have you know that I let you win all those times.”

“How do you let someone win after spending hours practicing while I worked at the shop?”

“I was being nice!”

“Uh huh.”

“Don’t believe me?” he grins. You try not to look, afraid of how bad your blood pressure might spike from the sight.

“I’ll have you know that I’m one of the best Kart Rider players in the PC Bang scene back in Seoul.”

“Jisung,” you scold, “That’s a computer game. These are coin-ops. There’s way more skill needed.”

“No there isn’t!”

He knocks his shoulder against yours, tucking his chin to his chest to hide his smile when you try to fight back.

It’s easy. Nice. There’s a soft melody echoing in the dust-covered chambers of your heart. You still know all the chords.

Old Man Park’s arcade is a few doors down from the shop. You stop there to drop off the food, spare a glance in the mirror hanging in your office to fix your hair.

Your grandma’s picture stares at you from the other wall, eyes bright.

“Love you,” you say, kissing the skin of your fingertips and pressing it gently against the frame.

Jisung is toeing at a few rocks on the sidewalk when you walk back out. He doesn’t see you, too busy with his eyes casted down at the concrete, hands shoved into his pockets.

It’s still hard to believe that he’s here. Flesh and bone. For a long time it felt like he was nothing but a distant dream, someone who only existed in the memories that you kept locked deep within your heart, the key somewhere on the streets of Seoul.

“Ready?” you ask.

He looks up, his glasses moving when his cheeks round into a smile.

Something passes across his face– a myriad of emotions in just a fraction of a second. Hesitantly, he holds out his hand. Long, delicate fingers.

You stare at it, swallowing roughly around the butterfly wings flapping inside your throat.

The one thing you shouldn’t do, my dear, is rely on forever. Because that, too, is uncertain.

Forever isn’t promised. But even then, there are things you know for sure:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. Jisung is here. Living, breathing, in the flesh.

So you take his hand, watch as relief floods his features, and let yourself feel.

The wind in your hair, the calluses on Jisung’s palms, and the warmth radiating out of the smile that threatens to split his face into two.

And with that certainty, the two of you start walking. A silent agreement to focus on the now.

You. Him. This.

“God, I can’t believe everything is only one coin.”

You laugh, watching as the multi-colored lights cast a glow on Jisung’s face.

“Stop acting like you don’t remember this place.”

“I don’t!” he argues, smiling. “We stopped coming here, what, in middle school? Once Chan hyung started driving? We would always ask him to take us to the other one out in the big town!”

Chan’s first car was an old Camry with leather seats and enough room for the three of you to pile into after school. Used, but still with enough juice to satisfy three young kids who felt like they were on top of the world.

You used to sit in the back, the wind whipping your hair every which way while yours and Jisung’s hands lay side by side in the middle seat, pinkies brushing but neither of you willing to take it further.

“Oh, shit!” Jisung gasps, letting go of your hand as he runs up to the space invaders machine.

“Here we go,” you sigh, following after him. He’s like a kid in a candy store, face filled with innocent wonder and joy.

“Aren’t there, like, I don’t know– things better than this in Seoul?” you ask as he shoves a coin into the game.

Jisung turns to look at you with a devilish grin. “Obviously,” he says, “But I can’t beat anyone’s high score over there. Here though? Ha! This place is ancient. I can finally be at the top of the leaderboard in something.”

“We’ll see about that.” you mumble, the noise of the game booting up drowning you out.

Jisung sticks his tongue out when he focuses really hard on things. It’s cute, the way the end of it sits between his lips, spit-slick and parted just a little bit.

He’s glowing, probably because of the lights, hues of red and green and blue flashing across his face. But then again, Jisung has always shined brighter than anything.

The game beeps to signal that he has one life left. He grunts a few times, his fingers tapping the buttons madly as his other hand handles the joystick in a frenzy of movements.

When it ends, he groans, throws his hands up in defeat..

You shake your own head knowingly, watching his eyes bug out of their sockets as soon as the leaderboard appears on the screen, the 8-bit letters blinking at him.

“You’re joking.” he laughs in disbelief, turning to stare at you. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

There, on the screen, is your name. The highest score. Jeongin and Hyunjin’s names sit just below you, respectively.

“What was that again about finally being able to be at the top?” you mock him, smirking.

“Since when did you get good at this?”

You shrug. “Had to find something to do in my free time.”

“No,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. “Nuh-uh. No way. This is not happening. I will beat you.” he holds out his hand for another coin, to which you roll your eyes and place one in his palm.

“You might as well give up now. We’ll be here all night.”

“In your dreams.” he scoffs, assuming his position as another round loads onto the screen.

Jisung has always been competitive. It’s one of his more hidden characteristics.

It persists still, you realize, as you watch him burn through the styrofoam cup of coins that Old Man Park had given the two of you. Free of charge for old time’s sake.

Fort-five minutes. All he’s managed to do is bump Hyunjin down to fourth.

“Ugh!” he groans, kicking the machine lightly with his foot.

“Look at you throwing a tantrum.”

“I’m not throwing a tantrum.” he pouts. You raise an eyebrow.

“Okay fine. I’m throwing a tantrum.”

“Thought so.”

“Can you blame me?” he asks. “This is, like, our first date. And I’m sucking. Hard.”

“Our–” you stop, eyes wide. Jisung mimics you, almost like he didn’t mean to say what he did.

Heat rushes to your cheeks. Your mind goes blank. But the world doesn’t end. Time keeps moving. Jisung is still here.

“I didn’t–”

“I like the sound of that.” you say quickly. “Of this being our first date, I mean.’

He smiles. Slow and sweet like molasses. Blinding.

“And the fact that you suck.”

The moment is shattered, his resulting whine echoing throughout the arcade.

“Come on you big baby,” you laugh, grabbing his hand. “I know a game you can beat me at.”

He lets himself be pulled, pretending that he’s upset, but you can see the smile tugging at his lips when you lace your fingers together.

The feeling is still new, this ease you have with him. The wounds you sported all those years are still healing, some more fresh than others. But with each laugh that comes out of Jisung’s mouth and shared glance, every note that your heart sings, you can feel them beginning to fade. A balm to soothe the burn.

The Pac-Man game is situated in the back corner of the arcade, right next to the jukebox. It used to be your favorite, because Jisung would always use his own coins to play songs for you while you tried to score higher than twenty-five thousand points.

When you get there, he frowns. “The only game you think I can beat you at is Pac-Man?”

“I don’t think,” you say, grabbing a coin before shoving the cup into his chest. “I know.”

The game boots up instantly, and you smile softly to yourself when Jisung moves wordlessly behind you, slips a coin into the jukebox.

“Play something good, Jisungie.”

He freezes. Out of the corner of your eye you watch him stare at you for a long moment. And then he smiles. Stardust.

“You got it.”

In a matter of seconds, Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Bruce Cockburn rings throughout the arcade, the speakers on the ceiling fighting past the static.

An old song. The same one your grandparents would dance to in the mornings, eggs on the stove and love in the air.

Your grandma used to say it was written for them, because when they fell in love the war was at its peak and she didn’t know if he’d ever come home.

After he passed, she still played it, except those times it was Jisung who twirled her around and painted a smile on her face as you watched from the same spot you grew up in. Always there.

Jisung, Jisung, Jisung.

When the game starts, you try your best. It’s hard. You’ve always been terrible at anything involving quick decisions. Focusing on everything at once isn’t easy for you, that much is still true.

“Shit.” you mumble, the top right corner of the screen reading ten thousand points as the ghosts run into you.

Jisung lets out a low whistle. “Harsh.”

“You wanna go back to space invaders and waste the last of our money?” you raise an eyebrow.

He holds his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, sorry. Go ahead.” he says, holding the cup out for you to take another coin.

You try a couple more times, failing each and every one. You can tell that Jisung is growing more and more amused with every attempt, and the smugness radiating off of him is starting to rub you the wrong way.

“If you’re so good,” you say after a particularly sad attempt, turning to glare at him. Jisung has his lips pulled tight to stop himself from laughing. “Then why don’t you try?”

He chuckles then. “I’d rather help you, if you’ll let me.”

“How are you supposed to do that? We only have one coin left.”

Jisung doesn’t say anything. He puts the cup down, the last coin held between his fingers. You watch as he slips it into the machine, move to get out of his way once he’s done, but he stops you by grabbing your hand and spinning you back around, his fingers placed over yours on the joystick.

With your back flush against his front, caged in by his arms on either side, Jisung takes a deep breath.

“This okay?” he asks right next to your ear, the curls on the side of his head brushing your cheek when he leans down to get a better look at the screen.

Warm. He’s so warm. The material of his sweater only worsens the heat, and the faint scent of vanilla makes your head swim.

It’s more than okay. Great, even. It’s Jisung. Everything and more.

“Yeah,” you say, letting him control your hands as he flicks the joystick. “It’s okay.”

The hair against your cheek moves when he smiles. “Good.” he says, and then hits the start button.

The game begins but you’re barely processing what’s happening, too aware of the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

A firm chest, different from what’s observable on the outside, what with the fluffiness of his sweater and soft features. His arms too, encasing you, the bulge and flex of his biceps every time he moves.

It’s all so intoxicating, so much so that you don’t even realize you’ve beaten the highest score in the system by the time he loses his last life.

“What?” you blink. “What the hell?!”

You laugh, spinning to face Jisung who’s grinning from ear to ear. In your excitement, you jump, flinging your arms around his neck. He’s surprised, but catches you nonetheless, circling his arms around your waist.

“Holy shit how’d you do that!” you squeal while he swings you around, feet off the ground.

“Magic, I guess.” he chuckles.

The closeness of his voice brings you crashing back down, suddenly aware of what position you’re both in. You pull back quickly, clear your throat, and watch as his face falls from the loss of contact.

It’s been a long time since you hugged Jisung. The thought transports you to that day four years ago, standing under the apple tree, the future uncertain. Forever promised.

Things are different now.

“Sorry,” he backtracks. “I didn’t– um, I wasn’t trying to–”

You cut him off by throwing yourself at him for a second time. Intentional. Breathless. Tired of running and acting like it’s not the thing you want most in the entire world.

Jisung doesn’t react until he feels your face against the skin of his neck. On instinct, he hugs tight, hands around your waist, breathing in the smell of your hair.

“Hi.” you whisper against him.

One word. Simple. However the weight of it sends a chill down his spine. It feels like home.

He tightens his hold. A silent understanding. The two of you never had much of a need for words anyways.

“Hi.” he whispers back.

The apple tree is much bigger now.

Long, thick branches, a wide trunk, a slight tilt in its shape.

It’s bare. The season is long gone. But it’s okay, because it means that the view of the stars isn’t blocked when you and Jisung lay beneath it.

It’s the same but it isn’t. There’s gaps– periods of time where the two of you grew separately. There are moments and memories tucked away that neither of you know about, whole lives to discover.

But even so, it feels right. His arm wrapped around you, your head on his chest. The stars and the moon. You and Jisung.

It’s nice. Perfect, even. But there’s a conversation that needs to be had. One that can’t be put off any longer.

“Ji.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

Jisung shifts beneath you, tightening his hold. The grass is damp. Neither of you care, too caught up in each other to stress about whether or not it’ll stain.

“Of course.”

“Am I ever gonna see you again?”

He takes a deep breath. “Yes.”

“You said that last time.”

“I know.”

“So what makes this different?” you ask, sitting up. He watches you carefully, eyes trained on every movement like he’s scared you’ll get up and run away.

When he realizes you’re waiting for an answer, he sits up too, pulls his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around his legs.

He doesn’t say anything, just wordlessly reaches into his pocket. Silently, he hands whatever he grabbed to you. A guitar pick.

It’s white, a marbled design. Golden flecks infused into the lines. There, on the front, is a singular marigold. When you flip it over, you’re met with a tulip.

“Do you remember that one time, when you called me crying at midnight because Nana told you that she didn’t know if she’d be able to afford school in the city?”

You nod silently, still turning the guitar pick over in your hand.

It was one of those nights where the rain was relentless. Monsoon season always tagged on to the tail end of the school year, bringing with it a more intense gloominess than usual.

You’d been angry. Stressed. Irritated that other kids at school were making plans to go to the mainland for college and you were stuck helping your grandmother trim foliage and wrap vases in newspaper.

“You told me that you couldn’t do it anymore.” Jisung whispered, staring up at the sky. “That you were tired of being here. That you needed to get out.”

You remember. Jisung had walked through the rain to show up at your window. Had climbed in with muddy shoes and sat on the floor of your room with you until the downpour stopped and your tears dried.

“And I said that I would make it happen, that I would invent a way to live amongst the stars so you could be as far from here as possible.”

“So what?” you ask, looking at him. “Did you finally do it, then? Is that why you came back?”

“Don’t be like that.”

“No, Jisung, I’m gonna fucking be like that.” you scoff, rising to your feet.

There’s a fire in your veins, stoked until the embers are burning hot against your throat. Too good to be true. You should’ve known that there was no explanation left for him to give.

Jisung scrambles to his feet. “It wasn’t like I wanted to–”

“Oh like hell you did.” you say, turning to face him. “Four years, Jisung. I waited four years and you just– you come back and decide to tell me about some make-believe bullshit to save yourself and feel less guilty about the fact that you left.”

“It wasn’t make-believe to me,” he argues. “It was real. Everything I said was real. I left and I tried for years to make something of myself so I could come back here and get you.”

“Oh so it’s my fault? I made you leave, is that it?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“So then say something else!” you yell. The stars rumble, threatening to fall out of the sky. “Say something else, then, Jisung. Why didn’t you call? Huh?”

“Because I–” he stops, licks his lips. “God. Fuck. I couldn’t face you if I had nothing to show for myself, okay? It wasn’t fair to you for me to leave you behind just so I could fail.”

“Ha!” you laugh, running a hand through your hair in disbelief. “So you decided to go radio silent instead? Decided to not only leave me alone but let me suffer and wonder about where you were because that’s so much better than telling me that you were struggling, right? Great choice, Jisung. Really.”

He blinks a few times, watching as you pace back and forth in the grass.

Anger bubbles deep in your gut. This whole time, he knew. It was a conscious decision. Jisung deliberately didn’t contact you because he chose not to.

“Did you ever even love me?”

The words tumble out before you can stop them. Jisung’s entire body goes rigid, his face falling and eyes hardening within a fraction of a second.

“Watch what you say.” he says, his voice low in his chest.

“I wouldn’t have to if you’d just be honest.”

“I’m trying.” he pleads. His eyes are glossy. Big and round behind his glasses. Illuminated by the moon.

“I fucked up, okay? I prioritized myself and the way I felt over you and fucked everything up. But I tried. I tried so fucking hard. And I’m sorry it took me so long but I wanted– no– I needed to make sure that I had everything figured out before I came back. I promised I would.”

“No, Jisung, you promised me that–”

“I’m not talking about you.” he says then, taking a deep breath. “You weren’t the only one I made promises to back then.”

Before you have a chance to speak, Jisung says, “I promised her. I told her I’d get you out of here. That I’d give you a life that you deserved, because she knew she couldn’t.”

You drop to your knees when the first sob hits, the force of it racking your body so hard you feel like you’re drowning. Jisung catches you on the fall, holds you up, lets you bury your face into his neck like he had so many times before.

“She told me you believed in forever. She wanted me to give that to you. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

Jisung lets you cry. He holds you through the storm, your wails as loud as thunder and tears as heavy as rain. Four years in the making; the sky and the earth colliding until the dirt and layers of sediment give way to the molten core that’s been hiding beneath the surface all along.

Pain. Grief. All of it pent up and leading to this moment.

“You should’ve told me.” you cry, beating a fist into Jisung’s chest. “You idiot. You fucking idiot. You should’ve told me.”

Jisung pulls you in closer, takes each hit as long as it means that it’ll soften the blow on your heart. He whispers apologies in your ear, runs a hand through your hair.

When it quiets again, the worst of the storm gone, he shifts so that your head is in his lap, his legs crossed and tucked beneath him. A few stray tears wet the fabric of his jeans, your eyes focused on the field of flowers across the street.

“I won’t ask you to come with me.” he says after a long while, when your breathing has evened out. “I know that things are different. You have a life here that you’ve made for yourself, responsibilities to bear as well.”

He pauses to push a few strands of hair out of your face. His fingers are gentle against the skin of your cheek.

“But I promise it’ll be different. I spent too long away from you, was too selfish for my own good. I won’t disappear again. I’ll call every day. I’ll visit. You’ll get every part of me that I kept away from you all this time, and I’ll get every part of you in return.”

Your heart thrums. The thought of having what you’ve wanted for so long. Of having Jisung.

“And when you’re ready, when you feel like you can’t do it anymore, there’ll be a place for you.”

His voice is firm. Confident. More sure than he’s ever sounded before in his life.

When you turn to face him, he’s already staring back. Jisung, with all the stars in his eyes and a heart full of dreams. Jisung, with the world at his fingertips and the offer to make it yours.

Under the apple tree, Jisung leans down and kisses you for the first time. Twenty four years in the making, soft and slow, his lips a perfect fit against yours. A starboy and his flower girl. His glow is so bright it makes blossoms sprout from her fingertips.

Soft curls tickle your eyelids when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours. You reach up to run a hand through them, smiling softly when he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I love you.” you say first this time.

He reaches out a hand, closes it over your fist that’s still clutching the guitar pick. A marigold and a tulip, both working together to make a perfect harmony.

“I love you, too.” Jisung whispers back. “Forever.”

Jisung stops by the shop early to say goodbye.

There’s less tears this time, less of a reason to be sad. But still, when he wraps his arms around you, vanilla filling your nose and curls against your face, you feel your composure crumble.

“Every day.” he says, repeating the same thing he did all night. “I promise. Morning and night. Also at lunch. Oh, and on your days off. Matter of fact, you can call when you’re on the toilet too.”

The last part earns him an elbow to the ribs, his laughter bubbling up and out of his throat as he tries to dodge any and all subsequent attacks.

He kisses you stupid before he goes, Chan rolling his eyes from his car out front. You flip him off blindly, Jisung’s lips still attached to yours, earning a loud honk in response.

When he leaves, the shop is quiet, the only sound being the buzzing of your phone as Jisung blows it up with text messages the second the car pulls away.

You’re too busy replying, giggling to yourself when a slew of cute emoticons start appearing one by one, that you nearly fall over out of your chair when Hyunjin bursts through the door.

“Jesus Christ Hyune, did you have to–”

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asks, breathless.

“Uh,” you blink, glancing round. “Working?”

“Is Jisung not on a damn plane right now?”

“I mean he’s on his way to the airport. Chan is–”

“Chan hyung told me that Jisung wanted you to go with him.” Hyunjin says, brow furrowed.

You sigh. “He didn’t want me to go with him. Well, okay, he did. But I told him I can’t just pick up and leave. He knows that. Nana left this place to me and–”

“You are so stupid.” Hyunjin sighs.

“Excuse me?” you ask. You stand up, crossing your arms as you walk closer to the counter.

“Come on. We have to go.”

“Go where, Hyunjin? I’m not leaving to–”

He cuts you off, places an envelope on the wooden surface. “And I am not letting you stay here and pretend that this is what you want.”

“What is that?”

“A plane ticket.” he says, pushing it towards you. “To Seoul.”

Your mouth opens and closes, lost for words. Hyunjin is already moving around the counter, pushing past you with an expression the most serious you’ve ever seen on him.

“Hyunjin I– I can’t– where did you even…?”

“Chan hyung has a friend.” he mumbles as he begins pulling stuff out of the office. Your planning notebook, your apron, the picture of your grandma off the wall. All of it thrown into a small box he managed to snag from somewhere off to the side.

“His name is Seungmin or something. Met him out in the tourist hub. Dude’s super rich with tons of miles and apparently owed Chan for a drunken night where he needed to be escorted to his hotel. So thanks to him, you’re leaving.” he explains as he grabs the box with both hands and starts walking towards the door.

“Wait.” you stop him, watching as he turns to regard you with a look that says his patience is running thin.

“I told you I can’t leave, Hyunjin. This place is where I need to be.”

He huffs, places the box on the ground in front of him. His hair falls in waves around his face, a shimmery dark brown beneath the rays of the sun poking into the room.

“Can you be honest with me?” he asks.

You nod, slowly.

“Do you love him?”

Hyunjin watches you with careful eyes. Reads you like a book, something he’s always been good at. You don’t doubt that it’s written on your face. Star-kissed cheeks and eyes as bright as marigolds.

“So much that it hurts, Hyune.”

Hyunjin smiles, eyes watery. “Then you deserve to go. You deserve your chance to be free. Don’t worry about this place, I’ll take care of it.”

The familiar sting of tears sits behind your eyes. Your heart swells full of love for this friend, this light, this beacon of unconditional love in the shape of your best friend.

“I don’t have clothes.” you manage to say around the lump in your throat.

Hyunjin shakes his head, tears spilling down the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll send them to you.”

“There’s a lot to do around here for just one person. What if you need me?”

“I’ll manage.”

You round the corner quickly, throwing yourself into his chest. He catches you with ease, wraps his arms around your body as the both of you cry into each other.

“I’ll miss you.” you say weakly.

Hyunjin’s throat bobs against the top of your head. “I’ll always be here in our little corner of the world.”

The two of you stay like that for a while. Hyunjin’s warmth seeps into your skin, lights you ablaze. By the time he pulls away, his hands on your shoulders, you feel like you’re floating. Unreal.

“I don’t have a way to get there.” you say quickly, glancing at the clock.

Jisung’s plane leaves soon. The airport, the only one on the island, is a thirty minute drive. You’re at a disadvantage the more time you spend not moving.

“Don’t worry,” Hyunjin chuckles. “I’ve got that taken care of.”

You open your mouth to ask him what he means when you’re cut off by the sound of honking from outside. Confused, you run to the door, your jaw dropping as soon as you realize who’s waiting for you.

“Hurry up people we don’t have all day!” Jeongin calls, his upper body hanging out of the window. He’s parked outside in a beat-up truck, arms waving wildly when he spots you.

“Innie!” you scream, pushing through the door to run at him. He jumps out of the truck just in time for you to barrel into his chest, laughter loud in your ears as he spins you around.

“You’re here! Oh my god I thought you weren’t coming for another two weeks.” you say in disbelief once he puts you down.

He looks older, more sophisticated. His hair is rusted and falls past his ears, the ends just barely touching his shoulders.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “I figured I’d show up earlier. You know, see you before you leave, catch up with my parents, help Hyunjin break into your house. The usual.”

“Help Hyunjin break into my what–” you say, but you stop when your eyes fall on the small suitcase in the backseat. Your own bag, the one that’s been sitting in your closet untouched for years now.

“For the last time,” Hyunjin says from behind you, carrying the box in his arms. “It’s not breaking and entering if I have a key. Which, by the way, I told you would come in handy one day.”

He sets the box down next to the luggage and dusts his hands on his pants. When he turns to face you, he’s smiling, eyes disappearing into crescent moons.

With tears threatening to spill once again, you stare at the both of them, your heart bursting at the seams. “I love you guys.”

Jeongin grimaces, opts for getting back in the driver’s seat as you laugh. Hyunjin rolls his eyes and ushers you inside of the truck.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it.” he says. “Right now, you have a plane to catch.”

The airport is crowded.

There are tons of people everywhere, some saying hello and some saying goodbye. Hyunjin explained the gate system to you before you left him and Jeongin on the curb, and you keep glancing down at your ticket to make sure none of the information has changed in the past thirty seconds since you last looked.

Thankfully, your gate isn’t far. With twenty minutes to go until boarding, you can feel the sweat building up beneath the hand that’s curled around your suitcase handle.

It’s scary thinking about the fact that this is it. That you’re finally leaving.

It’s bittersweet, too. There’s an excitement in the pit of your stomach as well as a feeling of dread in your chest, both of them meeting in the middle somewhere.

You let your eyes scan the crowd, searching for wavy hair and thick-rimmed glasses. However, the first thing you see is the familiar neck of a guitar, strapped right on to a back that you would know and recognize anywhere without warning.

Jisung is seated near the gate, his eyebrows furrowed and lips set in a pout as he glares down at his phone. You realize that he’s probably wondering why you won’t answer, why all of his emoticons are going ignored.

Quietly, you come up behind him, reach into your pocket, and say, “Excuse me? I think you dropped this.”

Jisung startles, his eyes falling on to the guitar pick being held out in your hand. Slowly, he lets his gaze follow upwards, wide-eyed and shocked.

“What– what are you doing here?” he asks.

You place the pick in his hand. “I'm on my way to Seoul. There’s a guy there that I’ve been trying to find for a while.” you say.

Jisung catches on quickly. “Oh, really?” he asks, moving over so you can sit beside him. “This guy must be pretty great if you’re leaving for the mainland.”

The rain starts hitting the tarmac outside right as you sit down. “Hm, yeah. He is. He really likes the stars. He says that he found a way for me to live in them, too.”

He laughs, the sound making your stomach flip. “Sounds like you’re excited.”

You nod. “I am. He promised me that we’d do a lot together, experience new things. Apparently he’s gonna write songs and I’m gonna be a nerd.”

Jisung snorts and reaches across to link his hand with yours.

“He’s really lucky.” he says, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips.

You smile into it. “So am I.” you whisper into his mouth, your heart stuffed to the brim with flower petals.

And when Jisung smiles back, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek and give you another kiss with the force of a thousand suns, you feel the key you’d been searching for finally click into place.

Salt of the earth. Soil and stardust. A boy who glows so bright that his girl sprouts blossoms from her fingertips.

Forever isn’t promised. But then again, with Jisung by your side, there are things you know for certain:

It’s February. The tulips are in bloom. In Jeju– it rains.

And no matter what, despite all odds, you and Jisung will always find your way back to each other in the place where marigolds grow.

[tags: @skzstarnet @snowyquokka @palindrome969 @summergirlsmj @n1staytiny @drhsthl @strwbrrychannie @shays-library @giuliadesu @iknowyouknowminho @linocz @pynchkilledme @jisunglyricist @itsgghowitsgg @alician87 @skzms @meloncremesoda @ilychee08 @allaboutsan @legally-lixs @stayceebs97 @candyquokka @chans1aptop @liknws @realrintaro @beeracha @vxllxnsworld @feelikecinderella @caitxx1 @lilac13 @sebastianswhore13 @classiclitandmemes @hyunverse @linosazuna @lastgreatamericandynasty1 @bubbly-moon @cookiesandcreammy ]

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neteyamsilly · 2 years ago

Text

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer.

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.”

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him.

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.”

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said.

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?”

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.”

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant.

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again.

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.”

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!”

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped.

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.”

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?”

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.”

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?”

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight.

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s. “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated.

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!”

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning.

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while.

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk.

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows.

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.”

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand.

Just what was happening? What had you done?

Eywa, it had to be sky people.

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind.

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline.

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known.

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought.

It was mom.

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix.

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you.

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off.

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father.

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point.

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that.

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches.

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you.

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin.

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired.

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life.

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word.

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain.

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right.

Got an ikran for nothing.

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it.

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone.

A ticking time bomb.

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful.

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction.

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know.

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way.

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety.

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves.

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily.

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to. “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you.

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories.

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony.

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it.

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.”

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!”

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air? “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry.

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute.

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance.

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking.

And you fulfilled his wish.

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#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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