#something that still breaks my heart is that I once took my ex to my towns community garden cause she was new to town and had never been

[luvth0t]

NEED ME? ━ L.N

in which you’re on vacation with your ex boyfriend, the only man who’s been able to make you cum in recent times.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex, eavesdropping, cocky lando, ex lovers, conversations of masturbation and inability to orgasm, hair pulling, oral both receiving, overstimulation, praise, slight degradation, choking ect.

it was a throw away question. one lando probably shouldn’t have brushed off.

“you’re sure you’re fine with her coming?” max had asked so casually despite it being on this tip of his tongue for the last hour, eyes not lifting from his phone to see the way lando looked at him with raised eyebrows.

the driver said your name in confusion, even chuckled. “of course. why wouldn’t i be?” lando followed; a rhetorical question. he knew why max was asking such thing.

he watched as max shrugged, hummed mindlessly as if he didn’t have a response prepared.

“wouldn’t catch me wanting to share a roof with my ex,” max mused; putting his phone down and finally meeting lando’s eyes, glare more so, quick to put his hands up in defence. “just saying. something to think about,” max quickly added.

he had his best friends best interest at heart.

“so what? we tell her she can’t come?” lando scoffed, shaking his head as he leant back into the seat he was occupying. “we’re friends. hasn’t been an issue before.” lando dismissed.

and he wasn’t lying. you’d broken up almost a year ago, which was concerning at first considering you shared the same friend group. were friends before lovers.

but it worked, you’d remained friends. saw each other every now and then, in a group setting. you weren’t as close, obviously, but it wasn’t awkward.

“no i know,” max huffed; even rolling his eyes. “maybe two villa’s is something to think about, that’s all.” max shrugged once more. he wasn’t just thinking of lando, but you as well, his other dear friend.

the brit shook his head, not giving in to the worry max seemed to hold. “not necessary. no different than being at the same hotel.” lando concluded.

he’d seen you on nights out, had conversations with you on boats; you still got an invite and paddock pass to his home race.

there was nothing to worry about. if you two weren’t capable of being friends, such thing would’ve been exposed.

that’s what lando thought anyways.

standing on the deck of a ten bedroom villa in the south of france however, he realised maybe he should’ve considered max’s words more carefully.

small doses of you seemed to differ from your constant presence.

the break up was civil, lando was grateful for such thing. it’d been him who ended things, purely because he felt as if he couldn’t give you the time you deserve. it was a cop out, he feared, realising things were almost too good between the pair of you.

he wasn’t sure he could commit to putting you through a relationship where you wouldn’t get the time and treatment you deserved.

you took it well, an angel in fact; you wanted to hate him for it. but you couldn’t bring yourself too. selfless enough to put the peace of your mutual friends and him first. plus, losing him entirely left a bitter taste in your mouth.

you’d mourned the relationship, cried in private and cursed him to your best friend; and moved on. well, appeared to have.

it went unspoken, amongst the group; in front of you two at least, and between you two as well. not exactly something you were ready to laugh at yet. it just seemed to go… unaddressed.

until it was night two, dinner at a fancy restaurant with maybe a few too many bottles of wine meant piling into ubers to get back to the villa.

it sort of just happened, lando shuffling into the car behind you; leaving you in the middle of him and max; pietra on max’s lap and tom in the front.

your senses were consumed of him immediately, not able to avoid him considering you were practically pressed into his side in an attempt to give pietra enough room.

you glanced up at him once, smiling sheepishly to see his eyes already on you.

“you still wear it,” lando hummed casually, pinky finger reaching to brush over the bracelet he’d bought you a few months into your relationship, grazing your wrist as he did so.

your cheeks went a shade of pink at the observation, and if it weren’t for the fact you were wine drunk you probably would’ve made up an excuse as to why the piece of metal still found it’s way onto your wrist everyday.

“it’s my favourite,” you replied; glancing down at the piece as your hand moved to fiddle with it, small smile playing on your lips.

you missed the grin spread on lando’s face, a sense of pride fulfilling him as he recounted the stress it had caused him just picking out the damn bracelet. he was relieved to see you still wearing it, for some reason.

“i’ve got good taste.” lando bragged, eyes practically begging for yours to meet his again; smiling in amusement when they did as you nudged him.

you were suddenly even more aware of the closeness, the way your knees were touching, how his arm had stretched to rest over the headrest behind you. it was forced proximity sure, but an odd sense of familiarity that you hadn’t felt in a while was accompanying it.

“most of the time,” you mused, earning a nudge back ━ which had a giggle escaping you, one you attempted to hush; not wanting to draw attention to you and lando’s conversation.

if it did, the others in the car would’ve seen the way lando’s face lit up at the sound. he hadn’t made you laugh like that in months, he’d forgotten how good it felt to do so.

he’d almost forgotten how easy you were to be around. how easy it was to fall for you in the first place.

it was as if the universe was punishing him for such thing, because suddenly you were all he could think about once more.

that night, he was simply relaxing in his room; when you came waltzing in.

“p,” your voice hummed as you knocked; pushing the door open before lando could muster a response from inside. “do you have my top━ oh shit, sorry!” you’d cut yourself short when you found yourself standing in lando’s room. not pietra and max’s.

who was luckily just lounging on the bed in his joggers, not far from switching the lamp off and going to sleep.

but he had been shocked to see you enter his room in just a towel.

“you’re fine,” lando chuckled; having sit up. “we swapped rooms this morning… figured they should have a private bathroom,” lando explained; watching as your face softened in some sort of relief.

you hadn’t been crazy. regardless, still embarrassed; the redness on your cheeks clear as you nodded, cringing ever so slightly.

“right; my bad, sorry,” you repeated; not even wanting to imagine what else you could’ve walked in on.

lando simply chuckled, shaking his head as his eyes glanced over your figure just once; unable to help himself. having to swallow to not let himself think back to what he knows is underneath the towel keeping you modest.

“i’m gonna go,” you declared; sheepishly smiling as you turned on your heel; cringing once more now that you were out of sight, not hiding the urgency as you practically fled his room and slammed the door behind you.

lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath until you left, body relaxing as he flopped back onto the mattress; a curse leaving his lips.

the next morning, you were there again. obviously. yet he couldn’t see you, nor could you see him. so technically he was eavesdropping; but it hadn’t been on purpose.

lando was out on his balcony first, which was above yours it appeared; mindlessly scrolling through his phone before arabella’s voice became audible, who you were rooming with this trip.

“since when did nicolas get ripped,” she’d posed to you, peering at the man who was dipping in the pool; your eyes following her gaze from where you both sat in deck chairs; smoothies in hand.

“he’s always been cute,” you pointed out; shrugging ever so slightly as you adjusted the sunglasses atop your head, rolling your eyes the moment you caught glance of arabella’s grin.

“and he’s always been into you.” arabella chimed, and you should’ve expected her to steer the conversation in such direction.

lando whoever, who hadn’t scrolled past the tik tok which was playing for the fourth time now, had not expected such words.

his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you and nicolas? yeah right. you two were close friends, he knew that much. but nothing more. surely not.

“we’re friends bella,” you dismissed; shaking your head. slightly flirty friends as of recent, you’d admit. but just friends.

“so? doesn’t have to stay that way,” arabella had grinned ━ and lando felt betrayed; as if it should be him the pair of you were talking about. not nicolas.

“yes it does.” you laughed. “i’m not dating within the friend group ever again,” you spoke in such certainty it had lando confused, he didn’t think it faired that bad the first time.

but he also wasn’t opposed to your declaration. not that he was close to nicolas, in fact he probably knew him the least. but he was a brother of a childhood friend, who’d tagged along the last few trips. and lando had no complaints of the guy.

“don’t be silly,” arabella huffed. “i’m not saying fall in love with him. just that he could end the sex drought you’re stuck in.” arabella hummed, your eyes widening as you hit her softly.

“what? no one can hear us!” arabella spoke dramatically, and you rolled your eyes; no argument because you figured she was right.

however she wasn’t, because lando was still listening. and his interest had suddenly spiked.

“i am not… stuck in a sex drought,” you huffed; not sounding one bit convincing as you glanced at the pool. “men just suck. i’ve given up on having an orgasm.” your words were dramatic, and playful, but still a bit of truth to them.

suddenly lando felt guilty for overhearing, or purposefully listening, but he couldn’t help but be intrigued.

your words made no sense to him; considering nights with you would always lead to multiple orgasms for both of you.

and it wasn’t as if you were short on options.

“gotta do everything yourself these days,” arabella sighed out dramtically in agreement; but she had a boyfriend, and your friendship with the girl wasn’t one for many secrets; you knew she was only ‘relating’ out of sympathy.

truth was; since lando, nothing or no one could compare. not even your own damn fingers.

“can’t even get myself off.” you huffed out almost ashamed, and you only whined when you met arabella’s shocked eyes and slack jaw.

lando suddenly felt intrusive, and flustered from the idea of you touching yourself; one he’d grown familiar with due to long distance. suddenly he was standing and ready to walk himself inside in his room.

“is your body like… broken?” arabella sounded bewildered, and you could only huff.

you’d blame it on stress, or any of your medication if it was possible; you’ve heard stories, knew there could be many reasons as to why your sex drive and urges have suddenly changed. none aligned with your circumstances however.

“just deprived i think,” you sighed.

lando needed to get his mind off your sexual need’s immediately, deciding to go on a run with max to occupy himself. to get you off his mind.

and it worked, until he got back to the villa. hot and out of breath, he found himself in the kitchen ━ pouring a glass of water with ice, eyes wandering out the fold out doors that exposed the luxurious back yard. decking, sun lounges, a pool; and his closest friends.

and his ex girlfriend. in a little bikini. with another man’s hands on her.

he couldn’t help but scoff at the sight, you resting on your stomach as nicolas rubbed sunscreen into your back ━ watching as you grinned and spoke up to him momentarily. you were flirting, he knew that look.

his takeaways from his… eavesdropping, was that you didn’t plan to pursue nicolas. so what the fuck was this?

he wanted to laugh, you were going to seek answers to your problems in nicolas? he almost felt offended; if you needed good sex so badly he felt as if he was the obvious candidate.

“careful mate, you’re staring,” max’s words snapped lando out of his thoughts; causing him to glare at the man quickly, bringing his glass to his lips, unaware that his grip was so tight his knuckles were white.

max’s amusement only escalated, eyebrows raising as he chuckled quietly.

“i wasn’t.” lando murmured, leaning back against the counter. “just didn’t know that was a thing,” he tried to shrug off; eyes returning to where you now sat up, rubbing sunscreen into nicolas’s back now.

had he been oblivious to the pair of you?

“i don’t think it is.” max shrugged, following lando’s gaze momentarily, not overanalysing the sight. everyone was friends here.

lando looked to max in doubt, to check if he was being serious.

“does it matter if it is?” max questioned, sassily too, almost a challenge; and lando was quick to scoff ━ mustering up the best chuckle he could to appear as unbothered as he wanted to be.

“no,” the mclaren driver answered almost too quickly, clearing his throat slightly. “i hope it is. would be a good match,” he overcompensated; left to only flip max off as he chuckled and hummed unconvincingly.

“whatever you say,” max mused.

lando wished he was being honest, but as time passed by it became quite clear he was lying.

dinner that night you were sat at opposite ends of the long table, like usual; regardless, lando’s eyes were trained on you for the majority of the night.

you and nicolas of course. who’d snagged the seat next to you.

forced to watch as you shared food, laughed and chattered away in your own little world.

lando felt sick from the sight; that used to be him. should be him. and while he could only blame himself for it not being him, it was a cruel reminder of what he’d lost.

he felt utterly helpless however, because there was nothing he could do.

he couldn’t even express his dismay to anyone as he watched nicolas help you in the car. left to watch as you both giggled and stumbled up to the villa ahead of the group.

he wanted to intervene, to make his presence known to hopefully at least make it awkward. but he couldn’t bring himself too.

not when you’d been such an angel in the breakup, made things so easy for him from the start of the relationship to now. it just wouldn’t be fair to ruin this for you.

even though it was all he wanted to do.

he noted how you two were first off to go ‘sleep’ that night, halfway through the movie that had been put on. and he suddenly wished he’d downed a few more glasses of red at the restaurant, maybe then he wouldn’t have the capacity to brainstorm up everything and anything you and nicolas could be doing tonight.

he wasn’t going to say it was what kept him up, tossing and turning and unable to fall asleep; but it definitely played on his mind.

it was starting to make sense to him at least; he hadn’t been around you without distractions since the breakup. it suddenly became clear how helpful those distractions are.

3:42 the clock read.

lando hadn’t gotten a second of shut eye, and after two hours of laying there; he conceded. deciding to get a glass of water as if that would be the solution to all his problems.

instead he was just met with the problem itself; you.

surprise, surprise. nicolas was not the answer to your prayers.

you were already keen to tell arabella ‘i told you so’ when you returned to your room. having spent the night in nicolas’.

he was a nice guy, until the clothes came off.

it was nothing new, you on top; he came. you didn’t. he then tried to get you to finish with his fingers, and you faked an orgasm when it became clear he wasn’t finding your clit any time soon.

your frustrations had now multiplied, it felt pathetic. you were ready to give up.

you snuck out the moment he fell asleep, in the kitchen to get a glass of water and for a few moments to yourself.

“shouldn’t be surprised you’re up,” lando made his presence known, having debated running back to his room when he noticed you occupying the kitchen.

typical.

“needed a drink,” you hummed sheepishly; and for some reason when your eyes met his you felt intimidated; as if you needed refuge, turning back around to the fridge to fill your cup up with ice.

maybe it was because you were already sexually frustrated. or the fact you were stood with your ex boyfriend after sneaking out of another guys room.

“same,” lando hummed; moving behind you to grab a glass for himself, and you could feel him waiting behind you as you poured water into the glass.

“nice night?” lando asked when you moved aside so he too could fill his glass, not looking at you for the time being so you wouldn’t decipher the motives in the question. he didn’t need you to know how concerned he was with your night.

you nodded quickly, humming as you still had a mouth full of water, leaning against the counter now.

“yeah, yeah,” you spoke; pursing your lips. it had been. until it wasn’t. “restaurant was lovely,” you smiled; shifting on your feet slightly as you took in his appearance, even in the dull lightly.

his messy curls that look slept on, slightly tired eyes. he looked cozy.

lando nodded, so much on the tip of his tongue. maybe if it was a different hour of the day he’d have the common sense to not speak his mind, but he was slightly sleep deprived and going insane from his own thoughts.

“you know my balcony is above yours,” lando told you; randomly, your eyebrows furrowing ━ coughing out a slight laugh. you weren’t sure where this conversation was going to lead, your guess was awkward silence. not him blurting out something… irrelevant.

it took a few moments for it to dawn on you, the slight curve of lando’s lips into a smirk causing your eyes to widen in realisation.

you’d only been out on the balcony once today.

“oh my god,” you mumbled; cringing as he chuckled, shaking his head ever so slightly. “shut up!” you whisper yelled, leaning forward to whack his arm, which only had him laughing once more as his hands flew up in defence.

“i wasn’t eavesdropping! i swear,” lando mused, shaking his head as your eyebrows raised.

“great, so you just happened to hear all about my sad sex life,” you huffed, and lando couldn’t help the small smile that was refusing to leave his lips; always having adored the sight of you flustered and sheepish.

it didn’t help, the sight of you wearing what seemed to be just an oversized shirt. reminiscent of how his shirts would drape over your body.

“yeah,” lando confirmed sympathetically, causing you to whack him again; no force in your actions as you groaned audibly.

you couldn’t think of anyone you’d rather not hear that conversation; ever so grateful you hadn’t been completely honest with arabella.

you would die of humiliation if you’d told her how you compared every man to lando, how you found no one was able to make you feel anywhere near as good.

but regardless, there was a level of comfort. you trusted the man in front of you.

“nicolas though hm?” lando spoke light heartedly, reminding you of the man you’d just been in bed with.

was it bad he’d slipped your mind completely? having forgotten that he was who sparked such conversation this morning.

“did he make you cum?” his follow up question had you dumbfounded, having not expected such blunt words as your lips parted. “can i ask that?” lando added with a reassuring laugh. but you knew that look in his eyes.

they were darker than usual, he was staring at you intently; practically begging you to step closer.

“no,” you cleared your throat, opting for honesty. “he didn’t.” you huffed, eyes avoiding his for a moment as if you were ashamed. as if it was your fault.

the relief lando felt was pathetic, not that he wished a bad time upon you. or anyone for that matter. but god it felt like the door had been swung right open for him.

he was right; of course nicolas wasn’t going to do it for you.

“i know you can make yourself cum.” lando chimed, pushing himself off the counter and taking a couple steps towards you; ridding any distance as he stood in front of you. “used to be able to at least, seen it myself,” he told you as if you could forget.

you swallowed intently, the tension now almost suffocating. sleeping with an ex was something you swore against; recipe for disaster. but it seemed awfully appealing when it looked like lando did right now.

your cheeks were pink, thinking about the countless times you’d gotten yourself off on facetime calls with the driver, purely because neither of you could wait any longer to see one another again.

“not the same anymore.” your voice was barely above a whisper, it didn’t need to be; not when he was only centimetres away, looking down at you as if he was ready to ravish you.

lando’s eyebrow raised at that, eyes flickering across your face.

it wasn’t the same, you’d worked out the hard way. you only relied on your own devices when you had no other choice; and with that would be lando on the of phone with words of encouragement and direction.

“what, need me to talk you through it again?” his words were teasing as his hand moved to cup your cheek; your stomach turning at the thought. at the fact he seemed like he knew that would do it for you.

you let out a slight breath, shaking your head but you held little confidence in doing so.

“need me to touch you?” he added on, offer sounding almost like a request; words so hushed you could’ve missed them. but you didn’t, you heard him loud and clear.

his eyes were pouring into yours as if he pitied you, but the smirk on his face showed he wanted nothing more than to be the one to solve your problems.

you didn’t even need to think about it, no ifs or buts entering your mind; nothing could make the idea of him seem unappealing.

“please,” you mumbled; eyes pouring up into his, watching as a wicked grin spread on his features; one that made your knees weak.

it was all lando needed to hear, lips pressing against yours in an instant; it coming back to the pair of you quickly. feeling so natural, the way your body melted into his touch; the way your lips moved against each other.

your hands finding a grip on his shirt as his spread across your hips.

lando didn’t waste any time; he wanted to make you cum.

he wasn’t sure if it was because it seemed like a challenge, or because he missed you; but god did he want nothing more than to make you feel good:

his knee pushed between your thighs first, your legs spreading; immediately aware of the finger he was tracing up your inner thigh.

as much as lando missed the feeling of your lips against his, he loved watching you react to every touch and feeling. pulling away but not creating much distance as his fingers brushed over your clothed folds.

you took a sharp breath, shifting your weight to lean against the counter as the anticipation built within, eyes locked on his as he teasingly brushed your clothed clit as well.

he could feel your soaked panties, a wet patch that you knew wasn’t there when you first entered the kitchen.

“you know it doesn’t make sense,” lando started speaking through a breath; his fingers pushing your panties aside with ease, swiping through your folds; spreading your wetness to your clit. “because you’re always so easy for me baby,” he practically cooed as he slipped two fingers inside you.

your jaw fell slack, hips pushing against his hand lightly as you whimpered; cheeks hinting at his taunting words which you’d almost forgotten about and how crazy they drove you.

his free hand returned to your cheek, cupping the side of your face and adjusting your head to ensure you were looking up at him; his head tilting ever so slightly as he gazed down at you.

“so responsive,” he added in a hum; looking incredibly smug, thumb settling on your clit ━ and the moan that escaped you as he circled your sensitive bud had lando’s jaw clenching. he’d missed your pretty sounds.

he was toying with you, teasing. his fingers moving slowly, thumb only lightly circling your clit. yet you hadn’t felt this good in fucking forever, face contorting in pleasure proving such thing.

lando could get lost in the sight, not able to help himself from wanting to give you more.

his fingers gradually picked up the pace, thumb applying more pressure now; but it was when he curled his fingers, grazing that spot he never failed to miss, that you hadn’t been able to find, that a slightly louder moan escaped you.

“ah, ah,” lando hushed you; tapping your cheek lightly. “gotta be quiet baby,” lando hummed through heavy breaths, hating that he had to ask such thing of you.

he wanted to hear you lose control, hear you scream his name like you had countless of times. but he’d hate to be interrupted and have the current sight cut short.

you whined quietly at the request, biting down on your bottom lip as you tried to keep any noise at bay; knowing you had no choice. waking anyone up would be less than ideal.

but somehow, the thought of being caught was the least of your concerns.

your back arched when he added a third, thumb still expertly playing with your clit; your quiet whimpers and moans were growing in volume once more.

lando took matters into his own hands, the hand cupping your cheek shifting so he could tap his pointer finger on your bottom lip; and he had to shut himself up this time as you invited two digits past your lips without second thought.

“fuck,” he mumbled out; eyes fixated on the way you looked up at him with his fingers in your mouth; so similar to the sight of when you’d suck him off. his hard on was almost painful.

your moans were muffled now, thankfully, as your hips pushed forward once more; slowly losing control over your body as the pleasure continued to build.

you’d made a mess on your thighs, his fingers working in and out of you perfectly; beginning to curl his fingers repeatedly had your eyes rolling back.

“yeah, right there baby?” lando mumbled; despite you unable to respond. “gonna make a mess on my fingers yeah? think you deserve to cum,” he smirked ━ and if you could’ve you would’ve cried out, nodding quickly at his words.

your stomach tightened, it was sudden; more sudden than you remembered, lando having caught on to the fact you were cumming before you did; squeezing his fingers as you came undone.

his body was practically holding you up against the counter, vision going white for a moment as your muffled moans filled the air, hips bucking involuntarily once more.

lando wanted to curse himself for ever depriving himself of such thing, watching as you shook in front of him; fingers moving to let you ride out your high, until he was pulling them from your panties, and mouth respectively.

your eyes fluttered open, nothing but awe as you gazed up at him through hooded eyes; panting ever so lightly.

he was smiling cockily, if he didn’t know the root of your issue before, he did now. the way you needed him.

you couldn’t even crush his inflating ego, not when he’d made you cum so hard in a matter of minutes; giving you what you’d been chasing the past few months.

he was about to kiss you again, after moments of admiring your face; but the sound of a door shutting had the moment ruined, reminding both you and him of where you are and what you’re meant to be.

definitely not meant to be caught having a moment at 4 in the morning.

lando was quick in taking a few large strides across the kitchen, positioning himself on the other side of the island as you quickly tugged your shirt down and ran your hand through your hair.

when pietra walked in, it was an innocent sight. plenty of distance between the pair of you, not enough lights on to expose your flushed cheeks or lando’s glistening fingers.

you pretended to be surprised as you brought your glass to your lips, leaning against the counter because your legs were still shaky, lando nodding towards the blonde.

“can’t sleep?” lando hummed in question.

“need to fill my water up.” pietra nodded with a smile, eyes flickering between you in suspicion for a brief moment as she realised this was almost an awkward thing to walk in on. you and him.

if only she knew.

you nodded in agreement, raising your glass of water as lando let out a small chuckle.

“if you need a late night snack, the donuts are great,” lando spoke again; your eyes falling onto him, and you were sure your face was bright red as you watched him bring his fingers to his lips; licking them clean.

you coughed on air, playing it off as if your water went down the wrong way; pietra oblivious as she nodded with a smile.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

the smirk he’d sent you was sickening, and with that he was saying good night and excusing himself.

lando ended up needing a cold shower that night, with his own hand and images of you burned into his mind.

you were hoping your head would be clear when you woke up, but it was only more scrambled.

you’d gotten what you wanted, was it greedy to only want more?

“good night?” arabella had questioned you, sitting next to you on the long dining table; bowls of cereal in front of pair of you; and the smirk on her face was quite telling.

except she didn’t know the half of it.

“yeah, yeah it was good,” you hummed; eyes shifting to the other end of the table; where lando sat, already staring at you. the mischievous glint in his eye had you looking away quickly, the sly smirk not helping you in trying to play it cool to arabella.

you knew he was listening.

“did your… problem get solved?” arabella attempted to ask without outing you, so oblivious to the fact lando could easily piece together her words.

your eyes narrowed towards her, as if to say ‘shut up.’ which she only looked back at you with wide eyes, finding herself quite discrete.

“well?” arabella pushed, whisper yelling.

“yes,” you huffed; in hopes she would shut up, you could feel lando’s eyes burning into you. the man who solved your problem, unbeknownst to arabella who thought it was nicolas who was responsible.

“ah! how exciting,” arabella grinned; standing up and taking her bowel to the kitchen, only then did you let your eyes fall back on the british driver.

who looked oh so amused, you had to flee; following in the girls steps.

it set the tone for the next few days; longing looks, tempting smirks and lingering touches.

you couldn’t bring yourself to go out of your way and seek more of him; despite how much you wanted it. nicolas had been forgotten about, failing to explain your sudden interest and now lack of in the guy.

lando was all you could think about. how couldn’t you? he’d fingered you in the kitchen, bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm you’d been craving; one you hadn’t experienced since him. and once again, it had gone unaddressed.

the tension was clear; you got peace from the fact he was in the same boat as you.

you hated that he’d walked off so smug that night and you yourself had nothing to brag about, left to accept the fact that you needed him. had missed him.

and he knew it.

so maybe you were tactical, every day the dresses got shorter. bikini’s got smaller. you wanted to see him squirm.

which was easy.

it was ridiculous, how often you felt his gaze burning into you; feeling the heat on your skin from such thing. you’d blame the hot summer sun for the the constant blush on your cheeks but in reality it was him.

made to feel better by the way his jaw was constantly clenched. hands fiddling with one another. leg bouncing impatiently because he was furious with the fact you were no longer his, he couldn’t whisk you away and tear your clothes off like he wanted too.

left to simply stare. dwell on the facts. wish that he somehow gets a moment alone with you again.

there were sliding doors.

two minutes alone underneath the cabin on a boat, both trying to find something to drink. he swore you were about to kiss him before max came bouncing down the stairs.

you’d all gone out one night, somehow it was only you two left at the bar. lando was convinced this was it, he was going to drag you off to the bathroom.

but then arabella appeared, demanding shots.

you’d never admit that you went out to the kitchen most nights, hoping he too would be awake at such ridiculous hour again.

you tried not to get frustrated, even with the knowledge there was only a couple days till you’d be flying back home to reality.

finally however, you got lucky.

lando had gone on a run; unbeknownst to you, who had slept in.

you rejected plans of going to a winery, choosing for a day by the pool to save energy to go out tonight like planned.

your group of friends had attempted to protest your decision, but you insisted. bribed them with a promise you would do some baking while they were out.

that’s where lando found you.

stood in the kitchen. of course.

tiny bikini. typical.

and no one else in sight. lovely.

“smells fucking amazing.” lando hummed; slightly breathless as he sauntered into the kitchen, moving to stand against the island ━ a safe distance between the pair of you.

the voice had startled you, jumping slightly as you turned around.

you smiled appreciatively at his words, attempting to not stare at his exposed torso. tanned skin, beads of sweat decorating it. his muscles only more prominent as he crossed his arms, flexing invitingly.

“would feel bad letting such a big kitchen go to waste,” you explained; shrugging ever so slightly as your eyes returned to the chocolate chip cookies you were currently making. refuge from the sight of him.

he chuckled, and nodded; not that you saw. but his eyes didn’t leave you.

he should go up to his room.

“who’s home?” he couldn’t help but ask, feet planted. he wasn’t going anywhere.

the question had you facing what you were trying to ignore; the fact it was just the pair of you. it was dangerous knowledge.

“just us,” you spoke through a breath. if the tension wasn’t clear before, those two words had it falling upon the pair of you like bricks.

lando nodded once more, lips pursing. you were so tempting. this was what he’d been hoping for. he was impressed he even had the mental strength to consider running off. hiding in his room till your friends returned.

that idea didn’t last long though. moving towards you, you heard him approaching; his presence was demanding.

he was behind you, causing you to freeze. breath stuck in your throat.

“you’re driving me crazy.” he’d whispered, despite no fear of anyone overhearing; and you had to shut your eyes for a brief moment when his lips grazed your ear, ensuring you knew just how in reach he was.

you found some solace in his words, confirming your suspicions. reassuring to know you weren’t the only one going crazy. the only one feeling nostalgic.

“how so?” you played dumb, bottom lip rolling through your teeth ━ regardless your head tilted aside as his lips grazed your skin again, his breath fanning your skin.

you heard him grunt, and it would’ve made you giggle if you weren’t fighting off the urge to jump his bones.

“don’t act like it’s not on purpose.” lando huffed, hands moving to play with the fiddling strings of your bikini, fingertips only just brushing your skin.

you had to draw in another breath, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. you needed some sort of power, just a physical reminder that he too was struggling despite his admission.

so you turned on your feet, eyes flickering up to his as you shrugged your shoulders; breaths slightly irregular from the closeness. right in front of you. trapping you against the counter.

“know you haven’t forgotten that all you need to do is use your words if you want me to fuck you,” lando spoke before you could, oozing cockiness despite his wandering eyes and tense jaw; his patience wearing thin.

once more you were cornered in the kitchen by his attractive frame and blunt words that had your thighs squeezing together.

“goes both ways,” you chimed; worried if you didn’t speak now you wouldn’t get a word in. you knew how this went; it was only a matter of time till you were a mess in his hands.

his eyebrows raised, he even scoffed; if he wasn’t so eager for you to go on he would’ve reminded you it didn’t.

lando always had a kink for making you beg.

“i already got what i wanted,” you hummed; hands moving to rest on his toned abdomen, running down and across the muscles before finding the waistband of his joggers. “something you want?”

your teasing tone had lando remembering just how worked up you got him, how frustrating and almost annoying you were. how annoying it was to deal with your antics that was.

“the other night was more than enough for me baby,” lando mused; not cracking, even with your hands on his body. “always look so pretty when you cum.”

you wish his words didn’t have such a visible effect on you. how flustered you got clear by the way the blood rushed to your cheeks, even while you stood here playing with the waistband of his pants.

it was pathetic; neither of you wanting to crack first, wasting precious time because you both really thought you were above this.

able to be friends. exes who wouldn’t go back to each other.

you knew he wasn’t entirely lying; of course you could remember how you were gifted a man who got off from getting you off. how he’d spent nights with his head just buried between your thighs. making you cum countless of times before he got his dick wet.

“cold shower treat you well?” you huffed; not letting him get away with such thing. as if he wasn’t standing here with the need to fuck you.

he smirked at your words, your attitude more so; the playful banter having been something he’d missed. something that wasn’t the same since things became platonic.

“did the job.” he laughed, hands still ghosting over your hips. “jealous i can still get myself off?” he couldn’t help but chuckle; and your jaw dropped at him using confidential information against you.

your hands still on his stomach, whacking lightly which he only chuckled harder at; and if you weren’t embarrassed you’d be taking in the way the smile was lighting up his face.

“that was not something you’re meant to use against me,” you practically grumbled; eyes narrowing up at him and he practically awed at the sight, adoring eyes and all as his hand moved to cup your cheek. his grin not matching the sympathetic eyes.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbled jokingly as he leant forward; not giving you time to reply as he put the both of you out of your misery, lips connecting with yours.

it wasn’t what you’d both expected, the kiss to finally ease the tension that had been building ever since a few nights ago in the same spot; the kiss was slow. passionate and deep, but not rushed.

it didn’t last long; but was nice in the moment however. to feel him.

the urge to feel more however was soon too prominent.

your hands that had linked behind his neck soon tangled in his hair. the grip he had on your waist soon moved to your ass, squeezing the flesh within his hold which had you leaning into him.

he lazily dragged you back with him, his back hitting the kitchen island as he practically held you against his body; lips moving in sync.

you felt his hard on with the movement, contained by his joggers; your own excitement jumping as your hands left his hair to snake down between your bodies; palming him.

the groan against your lips only motivated you; and while you wish you could do what he does, stand here and tease him; you were too keen to get your hands on him. to hear more of those pretty sounds he makes.

so you simply smiled up at him as you pulled away; bending down and settling on your knees; hands tugging his pants and underwear down with you; revealing his cock.

his breaths were a lot heavier as he watched you, leaning back against the counter ever so slightly, gaze fixed downwards as a small smirk tugged on the corner of his mouth.

he hissed as your small hand wrapped around him; thumb swirling the precum ━ you loving every bit of knowing how turned you got him from just a few words and the sight of you.

he wouldn’t ever deny it either; no one did it for him like you did.

“look so pretty on your knees,” lando praised; eager to gain back some control, despite knowing he’d do anything you asked of him right now; your hand feeling much than his did the other night.

you were eager to continue to please, so you didn’t waste any time in taking him in your mouth. it was as if he knew such thing, by the way his eyes were peering down at you.

his head fell back at the sensation, one he’d missed ━ arms flexing as he gripped the counter; a few curses strung together tumbling from his lips as you practically took him in whole first go.

his tip hitting the back of your throat did little to deter you. it was natural, as if you’d done such thing only a few days ago; not months ━ second nature as your tongue swirled his cock.

your eyes remained up, looking through your lashes as your head bobbed ━ knees uncomfortably shifting against the tiles but it was the last thing on your mind with the beautiful man above you.

taking in the way his abs flexed, neck strained and lips parted as you sucked him off ━ gagging occasionally but both of you knew that was no issue.

“missed this fucking mouth,” lando grunted, hand moving to tangle in your hair; both to keep it out of your way and to just have some sort of hold on you.

he was blindsided with pleasure, more than he remembered he’d be. your bikini did little to leave much to the imagination from his angle, watching as your breasts bounced with every movement. matched with your doe eyes, his jaw was slack.

you hummed as he tugged your hair lightly, the sensation one you always welcomed; and he too was reminded of such as he felt the vibrations around him. tugging again with a little more force.

his groans were gradually becoming more regular, hips bucking once or twice ━ pushing his cock further down your throat each time.

“just like that baby, always so good for me,” lando breathed, eyes screwing such momentarily as his head fell back once more.

you almost whined at the vision, wanting to scramble to your feet and kiss at his skin, feel all over him.

and he’d be happy to let you, he was hesitant in having you get him off first regardless; you hadn’t left much room for argument with good reason.

but right now he had no complaints, moans growing slightly louder in volume ━ grip tightening on the strands of your hair. he didn’t give you any warning as he came, but you didn’t need any.

the way he twitched in your mouth, you didn’t miss a beat ━ swallowing all you could; revelling in the way your name left his lips.

your mouth left him with a pop, gazing up at him to meet his adoring eyes, staring down at you as if you were the greatest thing to grace the earth.

because he did think of you as such. you continued to amaze him, he didn’t grow immune to such thing; just had managed to avoid the fact for a while now.

you stood to your feet, relieving your knees of the discomfort; a coy smile plastered on your lips at him panting and flustered.

you felt even, for the other night; reassured you weren’t the only one in need.

lando couldn’t complain either, couldn’t throw a playful comment towards you ━ not when you stood there with messy hair and swollen lips. all he could think about was turning you into a whiny mess, desperate to have you at his mercy again.

it was clear neither of you knew what to say in the few moments of silence; shamelessly admiring the other, catching your breaths. it wasn’t awkward however.

you were happy to feel his lips on yours once more ━ his hands not shy in wandering your body this time, sliding down to your thighs and hoisting you up immediately.

he was swift in turning around and placing you on the counter, stood between your legs as he hummed against your lips.

it wasn’t until his mouth ducked to your neck, then your collar bones, becoming harder to ignore as your head fell back, growing hot from the kisses he placed where-ever he could, that you spoke up.

“should go to your room,” you managed to get out, watching him through hooded eyes as he simply grabbed the material of your bikini to let your breasts fall free, kissing at the skin of them afterwards.

it wasn’t that you were worried on being walked in on, you had the house to yourselves for at least a couple more hours. you knew that. more so just the knowledge this wasn’t your house.

his eyebrows raised as he looked back up at you, hand sprawling over your stomach as he pushed you back slightly; your body blindly following the suggestion as you leant back on your hands.

“i paid for this villa baby, if i wanna fuck you on the counter i will,” lando murmured, hands spreading your thighs further apart; putting you in no position to argue you.

how could you? his words sounded like a promise, one you could only hope he would keep.

you nodded pathetically, suddenly aware of his hands resting high up on your inner thighs; suddenly aware of your own arousal and need for him.

he discarded of your bikini bottoms with ease, admiring your frame for a few moments as his hand reached to squeeze your breast, nipple rolling through his fingers moments later.

“lando,” you breathed; almost in warning, almost a whine. your legs were still spread and you were already resisting the urge to squirm. your patience non existent.

he only grinned, a slight chuckle maybe as his hands pushed your legs further apart once more.

“i got you baby,” lando hummed. “always so needy for me, you need me yeah? don’t you?” he spoke teasingly, tone painfully sweet as his fingers traced over your soaked folds.

you wanted to curse his obvious teasing, point out how you hadn’t been so cruel. but you knew it’d be no use.

you were scared to admit such thing, huffing as your hips bucked upwards momentarily.

“want to hear you say it.” lando grunted when he realised you weren’t planning on speaking; pinching your clit to get his point across, a strangled moan escaping you as your lips parted, falling into submission.

“need you.” you whined almost shamefully, head falling back as if the ceiling would offer you refuge from his hard stare. “please,”

your pleas were always music to his ears, so much so he debated with the idea of teasing you some more; to draw more whines and please out of you. but the way you were spread for him, so ready; he couldn’t help himself any longer.

you yelped at the sudden feeling of his mouth on your clit, sucking at your sensitive bud; not expecting such feeling as your eyes rolled back.

his hands manoeuvred your thighs to place your legs over his shoulders; giving him full access to your core as sweet moans started to escape you.

“o-oh my god,” you whimpered; eyes flickering to the sight of his head between your thighs ━ back arching as his tongue swiped through your folds, assaulting your cunt relentlessly as if he was starved.

you’d been reminded of how good his fingers were; so much so you hadn’t even considered getting his tongue again.

his large hands were squeezing your thighs, a bruising grip to keep you in place; eating you out expertly.

“lando━ feels so good,” you moaned as if that wasn’t clear by the way your hips were pushing against his hold. your right hand left the counter, moving to tangle in his curls, something to grab.

his blue eyes ventured to the sight of you momentarily, and he groaned into your cunt as he took note of the way your face was contorting in pleasure, how your body flinched with every move he made.

whimpers and moans were free falling, lando enjoying every single one ━ glad you could be as loud as you wanted, as loud as he made you.

you knew you were approaching your high shamefully fast, but had little room to care when you’d failed to reach it so much recently.

lando knew your body too well, could tell by the way you were tugging on his curls and creating more force against the hold he had on your thighs that you were about to cum.

he wanted you to let go, tongue flicking and nose bumping your clit ━ you orgasmed hard, suddenly; cumming on his tongue with what almost sounded like a squeal.

he didn’t stop, letting you ride out your high ━ before pulling away, wiping at the corners of his mouth.

you were mistaken however in thinking you would have time to catch your breath, not getting a word out before lando was moving only one leg off his shoulder and sliding two fingers into your entrance suddenly; thumb landing on your sensitive clit.

your body almost didn’t know how to react, falling back onto your hands that found the counter you sat upon once more to stabilise yourself.

“s’ too much,” you whimpered ━ legs attempting to squeeze shut, failing with the angle caused by one leg draped over lando’s shoulder, which allowed his fingers to hit deep within you.

lando hummed in amusement, knowing how much you could take. knowing you always said that, just to whine and cry out if he were to stop.

“too much?” he mocked; fingers curling and your body jerking. “want me to stop?” he breathed; smirking oh so cockily because he knew the answer. chuckling as you shook your head ‘no’ incredibly quickly.

“didn’t think so,” he huffed; thumb speeding up on your clit, rolling over the bud continuously. it was pure ecstasy, the overstimulation overwhelming your entire body.

his breaths were heavy as he admired you, the way you were shaking beneath him. reminiscent of how easily he could you like this, of the nights he made you cum four or five times before fucking you.

it killed him he didn’t have the time to do so again. but he couldn’t possibly complain right now.

“making a mess baby, all over my fingers,” lando spoke; the filthy sounds of his fingers moving in out of you filling the room, and you weren’t sure you’d last much longer when he entered a third. “so greedy. gonna cum again aren’t you?”

it was like he was three steps ahead of your body, leaving you to whine and nod pathetically.

“yeah? that what you want? to cum again?” lando spoke once more; watching as your head fell back, your eyes screwing shut and it satisfied him to see you feel the pleasure he was giving.

he was hard again, purely from his name sounding so fucking incredible as you moaned and moaned, from the perfection you were.

his hand grasping your cheek had your eyes flying open as lando tilted your head forwards to look at him, eyebrows raised in expectance.

“words pretty girl,” lando reminded, chin still between his thumb and index finger ━ struggling to focus on him with the numbing pleasure that was causing tears to form.

you nodded, before processing what he’d said. words. right.

“please lando,” you gasped; eyes pouring into his, pleading with his as your back arched and legs shook. you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop yourself. “gonna cum,” you whined.

lando felt it had been far too long to be cruel, so he simply hummed in appreciation; smiling lazily as he pushed you over the edge as he curled his fingers once more.

your vision went white, screaming his name as you came again, all over his fingers.

lando’s bottom lip rolled through his teeth at the sight, able to take in every moment, no restraint for either of you and it felt fucking amazing.

his hands gently moved your leg off his shoulder, stood between them as his hands massaged your thighs comfortingly, giving you a few moments to come down and catch your breath.

your eyes fluttered open, and immediately you were smiling stupidly at the sight of lando; his own grin mirroring yours as he hummed quietly.

“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered; unable to stop the compliment from escaping him, and your smile only grew; knowing you’d disagree if you caught sight of your tangled hair and flushed cheeks. 

it had your stomach flipping, men compliment you all the time. only lando would gain such a reaction.

“got another one in you?” his question was gentle; the sparkle in his eye daring, and you had no hesitation in nodding.

“need you inside me,” you mumbled, causing the driver’s smirk to return to its rightful place ━ glad your wants were shared.

you may have gone a long time without, but your stamina hadn’t faulted.

lando was tugging you to the edge of the counter at that, and you easily got lost in the kiss that he placed upon your lips; rough and messy as you melted into his hold.

it’d caught you by surprise, when he tugged you down onto your feet, spun your round and bent you over the marble surface; a gasp escaping you.

“missed you so much,” lando sighed; ushering your legs apart as your breath hitched in your throat. you didn’t know what to focus on, his words, your position or the feeling of his hands on your ass.

the confession wasn’t one you’d hold onto, you knew better than to cling to words uttered during sex. but god it felt great to hear.

“missed you too,” you assured him back, moan slipping past your lips as you felt his tip press against your folds; but he made no further movements.

your hips shook slightly, attempting to entice him ━ so needy despite having cum twice already. you just wanted him. all of him.

his hand moved up your back, tangling in your hair and creating a makeshift pony tail ━ one he tugged on immediately, your head snapping up.

“what did i say earlier? about using your words?” lando leant forward, lips grazing your ear; cock pressed against your entrance, causing you to cry out.

your body was overstimulated, tired; tired of his teasing. out of practice to predict his wants.

“want you to fuck me,” you whined quickly, rushing your words out as your hips pressed backwards. “need you lan, please,” you whimpered; sounding oh so desperate lando couldn’t possibly deny you.

he entered you without any more warning, bottoming out as your walls wrapped around him; your gasps intertwining as you gripped the counter below you.

the cool surface against your front did little to cool you down, moaning at the feeling of being so full. full of him again, after so long.

too long.

“always take me so well,” lando grunted in your ear; giving you a few moments to adjust before he was dropping your hair and standing up straight ━ hands finding your hips now.

his thrusts were harsh, rough and deep; not too slow or too fast, ensuring you felt every inch of him as your aching cunt squeezed him.

every move had your body jolting, moans escaping you; the counter and lando the only reason your legs were able to stay upright.

“so-so good,” you stumbled out, eyes rolling back as your body fell limp, unable to process the pleasure you were feeling. what you’d been deprived of and craving.

the driver too was losing himself in the feeling, head thrown back as he moved in and out of you ━ sounds of skin slapping filling up the large and empty space.

it was a mutual feeling, as to why the fuck this didn’t happen sooner. how on earth you two had been in such close proximity throughout the months and not gotten to this point yet.

safe to say keeping your distance now would be difficult.

lando felt the need to be closer, as if he needed more of you despite having you already at his mercy.

his hand found your neck with ease, wrapping around your throat and guiding your head up ━ causing you to stand up right, back against his chest.

he didn’t apply pressure, yet, but just the feeling of his large hand wrapped around the base of your neck had your legs feeling weaker; split open on his cock meaning lando’s body was the only thing holding you up now.

“feel good?” lando’s question was just him chasing praise, knowing you were fucked stupid; but he couldn’t help but want to remind you just who was the reason you could barely form sentences.

you nodded as much as you could in his hold. always nodding, he could ask or say anything and you’d find a way to say yes.

“only i can make you feel this good hm? only i can make you cum?” lando didn’t stop running his mouth, basking in the fact it was him that had the tears spilling out of your eyes. a sense of pride washing over him.

you choked out a yes, his thrusts having only gotten faster ━ and when his hand applied pressure to your neck you were almost certain you were in heaven.

“so perfect, so fucking perfect for me baby,” lando grunted in praise; and the kiss he pressed to your shoulder blade was a vast contrast to the treatment of your cunt.

it really was too much, the few tears and whimpers made that clear to lando; you were only moments away from cumming again and the thought alone had his own high dawning on him.

“come on angel, cum on my cock. cum for me,” he was speaking in your ear again; and you practically screamed as your third orgasm hit ━ body falling limp in his hold.

the way your walls squeezed him had him cumming with you, groaning as his forehead rested on your shoulder ━ erratic breaths filling the room as he stilled inside you.

all his touches were suddenly delicate, pulling out of you as he moved you to lean against the counter, still holding you up slightly as you caught your breath.

it was a comfortable silence, his hands ghosting over your waist as you pressed your eyes shut for a few moments.

you’d expected some sort of regret. an immediate now what? for one of you to panic or flee.

but instead, neither of you wanted the moment to end.

“want to join me for a shower?” lando broke the silence, a half smile that had you feeling an odd sense of relief.

one he felt too when you smiled right back, and nodded in agreement.

he’d chuckled, you would even go as far as to say he was grinning; hands grasping your thighs and picking you up with ease, carrying you off towards the bathroom.

when your friends returned you had been on the sofa, lando out by the pool ━ strategically placed to avoid suspicion, already under the assumption someone would’ve brought up the fact it happened to be you two who stayed back today.

chatter filled the room immediately, lando trudging in to greet everyone. you having stayed seated, purely because you didn’t trust your legs.

“burnt cookies y/n?” max had spoke across the room; having been first to stumble upon the overdone batch sat on the kitchen island you’d spent the last 15 minutes sanitising.

your cheeks flushed, purely because you could sense lando’s eyes burning into you.

you could picture the cocky smirk plastered on his face.

“yeah. my bad,” you laughed sheepishly.

and you were glad to be the only one paying attention when lando passed the back of the couch, finger grazing your shoulder as he did so.

“my bad,” he corrected; your eyes meeting his smug ones in passing.

━━

a/n: did y’all miss my shitty endings???

anyways idk what this is but here it is

unedited atm so apologies xox

as always appreciate feedback so so much, love u all and hope u enjoy 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

[teardropsonsmyguitar]

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[glitterycvm]

"I'D UNDERSTAND "

[•~college!au, aged!up kirshima x reader~•]fluff/slight angst/smut

[•~synopsis: you find out your boyfriend was just using you, don't worry ejiro will help you forget all about that~•]

[•~a/n: inspired by a situation my friend was js in, send requests!!~•]

you couldn't believe it. after all that time? all those memories you two had together. it was all for nothing.

you and your (ex) boyfriend had been dating for a couple weeks. even though it was merely a couple weeks, you were convinced that he was the love of your life. you knew that he was the one. or at least you thought so-

gradually things got distant, he stopped making an effort overall, while you put in everything you had. you were confused and frustrated. you didn't do anything to him? so what was going on?...

then earlier this afternoon, you were catching up on some nearly-late homework assignments. as you scribbled your way through some equations a light buzz vibrated against your thigh.

curiously, you took out your phone and glanced over at the notification. you had got a message from your boyfriend.

you open his chats eagerly, for once he started a conversation with you. but your moment of glee soon came to an abrupt end as you read the first couple words.

"y/n. we need to break up"

you felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. your stomach dropped making the guilty and panicky feeling overtake your senses even more.

you continue reading the paragraph, each word making that sick feeling grow in you. you couldn't believe that this was happening. it had to be a nightmare.

"tbh i was desperate for a prom date cs all my friends going had one and i didn't wanna be left out and at that point they were making fun of me so yea i shoulda js told the truth from the start instead of lying"

emotions flooded your mind. betrayal. disappointment. anger. were just to name a few. you were at a loss for words. you thought he actually loved you. he treated you better than any other guy you were previously with. and you get played?

you drop your phone, tears flooding your eyes as you fall onto your bed, head buried in the pillow below you. the only thing you felt like doing now was to cry your eyes out dry. sob until you got better if that was possible anymore. you felt stupid.

teardrops dampened the pillowcase below you face as you say there in sorrow. but your moment of mourning was soon interrupted by a series of knocks. a familiar voice following.

"y/n? you left your textbooks in the library-"

you quickly fix yourself up, taking in a couple deep breaths and wiping the tears off your cheeks. you swiftly get up from your bed, praying that the faint pink tint plastered all over your face wasn't too obvious.

your hand curls over the doorknob and you open the door slowly. being greeted with a familiar red haired boy. eijiro kirishima, your best friend. one of his arms holding up a stack of books, while the other was shoved in his jacket pocket.

"h-hey eijiro... thanks for bringing me these" you whispered, hiding your shaky rattled voice. eijiro looked down at you with a small frown. "you okay, y/n?" he asks, handing you the books, worry and concern evident in his tone.

those three words were all it took to make you crack. you erupted back into that familiar sorrow, eyes overfilling with water.

you then feel strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a warm and comforting embrace. without any thought you cry into his chest, a spot in his hoodie getting soaked.

a hand strokes your back softly as his soothing voice whispers in your ear "let it out, it's all gonna be okay y/n, I promise..." you hug him back even tighter, too lost in your emotions.

a couple moments pass before eijiro pulls away for a quick moment, arms still wrapped around you.

"you wanna tell me what's wrong?..."

you explain to kirishima everything that had just happened. he knew about this boyfriend you had and wasn't too trusting of him to begin with. he has a gut feeling something was off but he didn't want to burst your bubble so he kept quiet.

at least that's what he told himself. in actuality he couldn't tell if he was just jealous of him or if he actually had a guy feeling. something eijiro had never told you was that he had the biggest crush on you ever since you two had met. and every time you mentioned or introduced him to a new guy the only thing he could think of was how much better he was.

this moment was no different either. you told him in the past about how your boyfriend was treating you. from all the dry and lackluster conversations to the lack of attention. he heard it all. and he tried his best to comfort you, to try to look out for the both of you. when in reality he wanted you all for himself. he wanted to tell you how much of a better boyfriend he could be.

his blood boiled and his heart was full of fury. "that is so messed up." he grumbled arm wrapped around one of your shoulders as he held you in close, inhaling tye sweet scent of your shampoo.

"I know... im so tired of this ejiro. am I really that unlovable?.." you ask, glancing back up at the red haired male, eyelashes decorated with tiny teardrops. kirishima feels his cheeks reddened and blush as he thinks carefully about his reply. he could ruin your friendship if this doesn't go his way. but if it does workout, his dreams will come true. a moment passes before he replies.

"y/n, honestly I can't even hide this anymore from you. I love you. I mean it I swear. it drives me mad seeing you let these guys take advantage of you like this, you're too pretty and perfect to be treated like this. please- let me show you how good I could treat you-"

and that's how it all started. you were laid down on your back, thighs pushed all the way to your chest as kirishima towered over you.

"relax for me mamas... ima make you feel so good..." he cooes into your ear, hand caressing your cheek. you listen to him and let go of all the tension you were holding in, a breathy exhale leaving your lips.

kirishima teases his tip in between your fold and clit, making the both of you let out a small moan. soon enough he gently pushes himself in, groaning at the way your wet walls clam down on his length. you grip the bedsheets next to you as the feeling of the pleasureable yet painful stretch engulfs your senses.

"you okay princess? can I start?..." he asks, checking in for any signs of discomfort on your face. it took everything in him to not start moving and pound the life out of you, he had fantasized about this moment since forever and it was finally in his hands.

you nod, and kirishima starts moving at a slow pace, making sure you were okay, after all the last thing he would ever want to do, is to hurt you. but soon enough he picks up the pace gradually, making you cry out for more. "your takin it so well for me mamas..." he praises, his hips bucking into your cunt even quicker.

"f-fuck she was made for me hm? bet that lameass boyfriend couldn't get ya like this" he mumbles, pointing your chin down to make sure you maintain eye contact with him.

he begins to get rougher, hands quickly shifting your legs from pressed against your torso to now your calves on his shoulders. the new position made him ram into that spongy spot, making your moans even louder.

it all felt so good, from the way his cock was now even deeper in you, the way his thrust became harsh and passionate you could only shut your eyes from the ecstasy.

"don't close your eyes on me mama, keep them open or I'll stop." he commands, drilling into your hole even faster now, the sound of skin slapping follow suit. you open your eyes, listening to his warning. he smirks and whispers down into your ear "good girl... you're so obedient for me mamas" he grins.

he pounds into you harshly, faint mumbles of " so-so sorry mamas... can't hold back anymore" as he drills into you, his grip on your hips was sure to leave a purplish bruise the next morning.

you feel the familiar know in your stomach tighten. "m'so close eijiro please!-" you mewl. "cmon baby... tell me who fucks you better? me or him?" he teases. "y-you do..." you mutter out, somewhat inaudible. he lightly slaps your cheek "the fuck was that?. tell me who the fuck you belong to-" he grunts out. "y-you, I only belong to you eijiro-" you cry out

"good girl, listenin to me so well..." eijiro grins and places a hand on your bud, digits rubbing quick circles all over it. bringing you over the edge.

your back arches and your thighs tremble. you let a loud moan as you feel the pleasure overwhelm you. the sight alone was enough to make kirishima reach his own high. he pulls out and begins to stroke his cock, letting out pretty groans as his lips part slightly.

long ropes of cum decorate your stomach as you both pant out heavily. you close your eyes, as you catch your breath. while you do so kirishima notices your phone on the other side of the bed, open.

he grabs it quickly without you noticing and snaps a quick photo. hurriedly tapping on your exes icon and sending him the photo.

"kinda sad that you let such a pretty girl like her go. it's okay i'd understand, you didn't deserve her anyways"

[lovebugism]

hi, bug! i’ve been one of your many avid readers for a long time but it’s my first time submitting a request for your summer fic fest 🥹 could i pretty please request for jealous!mean!eddie x ditzy/sunshine!reader where he sees her ex trying to win her back? ahhh thank you ily! ❤️

thank you for requesting angel, ily :D here's a sorta part 2 to this fic! — eddie doesn't realize he's been taking you on dates until your ex shows up (jealous!grumpy!eddie, friends to lovers, brief allusions to smut | 1.3k)

bug's summer fic fest (⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

When Eddie took you to Benny’s Burgers that Saturday evening after your heart got broken, he fully intended for it to be the last. That was until the next Saturday came around, anyway, and he found himself hungry and thinking of you. So, sharing a milkshake at the diner became a two-time deal, begrudgingly so.

The third time was a total accident, and he’d like that on record. Eddie had come alone that day. You made a stupid joke about him stalking you when you just happened to be there, too. (Both of you were secretly hoping the other would show, of course, but neither of you would admit it out loud.)

After that, it just started to feel like tradition. Eddie didn’t feel right going to the diner without you, so he never did. Instead, he buys you dinner once a week, sits with you in your designated booth by the window, and pretends all of it is something he has to do. Because it’s much easier than acknowledging that a lifetime of Saturday evenings with you still wouldn’t be enough.

“Can I have some of your fries?” you wonder through a distressingly large mouthful of cheeseburger.

Eddie scowls. “You said you didn’t want any.”

“I didn’t,” you shrug innocently then swallow down the too-big bite. “But yours look really good…”

“Too bad,” he scoffs and chucks a fry into his mouth. “Get your own.”

You slouch against the pleather seat with your features screwed in a gentle pout. It takes Eddie a record-breaking three seconds to slide his basket of fries across the table to you.

He huffs all dramatically about ‘cause he wants you to know he’s annoyed. You rise again, beaming anyway, because you know most of it’s just for show.

Eddie watches with his brows pinched in confusion as you methodically pick a single fry from the batch. His frown deepens when you dip it into your milkshake. 

“Don’t taint the ice cream, weirdo,” he protests, exhaling sharply through his nose in place of a laugh.

You giggle through your mouthful at the screwed look on his face. “It’s good!” you insist. “Here— Try one.”

Eddie grimaces when you pluck another fry from the basket and scoop it into the milkshake. He flinches when you threaten to hand the monstrosity over to him. “I think I’m good, actually.”

“Try it.”

Your giddiness makes him smile despite himself. He concedes with a heaving sigh. “This is the last time I take you anywhere, you know that?” he grouses, mostly muffled as you feed him the ice cream-covered fry.

You smile to yourself, wider than you realize, and swipe your palms together. You’re pretty sure he’s said that to you every time he’s brought you here — yet, for some reason, he still shows up at your doorstep at seven o’clock every week. 

“Yeah, I know,” you hum with a fond sigh. “But it tastes good, right?”

Eddie’s pretty face is swirled and largely emotionless. You can’t tell if he’s disgusted or amused. “It tastes like… a potato covered in chocolate ice cream,” he deadpans.

“Wow. You’re a genius, Eds,” you muse from across the table. You cross your arms along the top of it and fight back a smile. “Can’t believe it took you two whole years to graduate.”

“Don’t push it—”

He’s interrupted, first, by the overwhelming smell of cologne (pine and lavender, achingly so) — and then by a deep and obviously forced laugh. “It didn’t take you long, did it?” a strangely familiar voice wonders aloud, deep and smooth like honey.

Your head whips at the same time as Eddie’s, both of you wearing similar looks of confusion. A tall boy with nice hair and expensive clothes (an obvious King Steve clone) stands at the head of the table. Your table.

Josh O. from fucking Mr. Mundy’s.

You force a breathy laugh of palpable confusion. “What?”

“Nothing. I was just… wondering why you never called me back,” the boy shrugs and crosses his toned arms over his equally toned chest. His smile is lopsided and perfect; his teeth are slightly crooked and perfect, too. It’s fucking annoying.

“But I guess I have my answer now, right?” Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s continues with another hearty chuckle. “Trying all the flavors of Hawkins, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

Eddie’s chest burns, and not in a metaphorical way. The red-hot embers there set his ribcage aflame, turning himself into a wildfire of withheld rage. His nostrils flare with it as his dark eyes flit from the asshole towering over the booth, to your cowering form, and then back to the asshole again. 

He seethes quietly and waits for you to stand up for yourself. The moment never comes.

“She didn’t call you back because you’re a fuckin’ douchebag,” Eddie blurts for the both of you, still chewing at the monstrosity he’s wildly unsure of — which he can barely taste now, through his blinding anger and all.

Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s pretty smile ebbs only slightly. He squints his glittering eyes and long lashes, fluffy brows pinching softly in confusion. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?” he wonders with a cynical laugh.

Eddie’s answer is immediate and equally venomous. “The asshole taking your girlfriend on a date, tough guy,” he mocks.

The boy scoffs. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Were you sayin’ that the night you were tryin’ to cop a feel in your car?”

You shift uncomfortably in the booth. The cracked pleather sticks to your clammy skin. You feel the tension pressing on both sides of you until you can hardly breathe. “Eddie, stop—”

“—You know, it’s real impolite to touch people without permission,” Eddie continues despite your plea, features pinched in a faux-sympathetic pout. “Didn’t your mommy ever tell you that?”

Josh O. from Mr. Mundy’s scoffs, both amused and distantly muddled. He laughs softly to himself and steps back from the table. “You’re a fuckin’ freak, man,” the boy murmurs as he leaves.

“That’s funny,” Eddie calls after him anyway. “Your mom says that, too.” 

“Eddie.”

The boy relaxes in the booth once he’s gone. His rigid shoulders deflate slowly with a drawn-out sigh. He motions across the table with a pale, ringed hand. “Can I have my fries back, or are you gonna eat ‘em all.”

His effortless deflection is almost admirable.

“I’m gonna eat ‘em all,” you joke in an instant.

“Figured,” Eddie deadpans. He reaches for the basket in front of you and plucks a couple from the dwindling pile. He pinches them into his mouth, wipes his salty hands on his jeans, and pretends nothing ever happened.

You swallow hard and avert your gaze. You cradle the cold glass of your milkshake with one hand and stir at its melting contents with the other. “Thanks for that… By the way.”

“Don’t mention it,” Eddie shrugs. “Like, seriously. Don’t. It’s gonna make everything weird if you do.”

“Okay,” you nod firmly, then glance at the boy beneath your lashes. A mischievous smirk curls at the very corner of your mouth. “So… This is a date now, huh?”

“Shut up,” Eddie frowns and takes his fries back. “It just slipped out.”

“So what? That’d make this our… Fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth,” he corrects.

Your smile widens. “Most guys usually get laid by then, don’t they?”

Eddie scoffs through his mouthful. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, sweetheart,” he quips in an audibly sarcastic monotone.

The rest of the quote-unquote date plays out like normal. You make mindless conversation while you finish your burgers, sharing a milkshake between you while you steal Eddie’s fries. 

You don’t tell him that you wouldn’t mind if he felt you up in his van — that you’d happily let him, if he asked; and Eddie doesn’t tell you that he goes to sleep dreaming about it most nights. 

[magics-neptunes-things]

Cheetah

Hello everyone!

So for once this isn't a request, but more something who was walking in my head rent free and I just had to write it.

I don't know a lot about motorcycle to be honest but i made some research, so if there is some incoherence, I'm sorry!

Also I start to translate the English in Spanish before stopping, because in the end almost everyone is supposed to talk in Spanish and I'm really bad at it (I only can command something to eat and drink).

Please let me know what you think about it and enjoy ♥

TW : Moto accident, Angst, Injuries and a little bit of autodestruction maybe.

“Come on Cheetah, everyone’s waiting for you!”

You sigh softly, putting the picture you were looking at in your bag. It’s a picture of your ex-girlfriend and yourself, during your happy days. It’s been three months since the breakup and you are still mourning the end of your relationship like if it was the first hours. You still feel numb and if like someone is constantly crushing your heart in their iron grip. It’s not getting better, and it probably never will. Ona was, is, the love of your life and it’s just impossible for you to recover from it.

Falling for Ona was easy. You met her when you were both 20, even if you come from Palma de Mallorca and not Barcelona. You are a athlete too, so it wasn’t hard to cross her path at one of the Spanish awards. Patri Guijarro was there too and like you she comes from Mallorca, so she introduced you both and the rest is history.

When Ona moved to Manchester, you follow her. You find a team to train your motorcycle and your skills there. You were still young but promising on the circuit and you didn’t have trouble the find someone to help you getting better. And better you get. Just like Ona in Manchester United, you easily improve your skills and became one of the best in the world. Sure, you were sometimes away from home and Ona for your competitions, but everything was perfect.

When Ona came back to Barcelona, you flow back with her too. Some of your team came with you, some other didn’t but you can’t hold it against them. You find people to replace them and continue to race on the top of the leader boards.

The breakup didn’t come from nowhere, you can’t say that. You knew how much Ona was worried when you race, scared that you hurt yourself. You never had a big injury until now. But just after Christmas, you were implicated in an accident and Ona had trouble to concentrate in something else than that since that day.

It wasn’t your fault honestly; you just weren’t able to avoid the motorcycles already lying on the road. So, you made a gliding flight and had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, nothing too serious. But Ona was in Barcelona while you were in Qatar, and it took almost two hours for you to be able to call her, even if you make everything possible to have your phone back.

That’s what pushed Ona to break up with you.

“I can’t keep focusing on your future death while I’m in training or supposed to be concentrated on something important, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.” was what she told you.

Can you blame her? No. Did she told you it was because she doesn’t love you anymore? No. Did you try everything to make her change her mind? Yes. You even told her that you will stop your sport. But she’s not with you anymore and it hurt like hell.

“Hi Cheetah!” make one of your opponent when you arrive in the garage, where the motorcycles are stored.

“Hola” you mumble back.

Cheetah is your nickname, because of your speed and the feline way you stand on your bike. But it’s especially Ona’s favorite animal. You wonder if she’s still looking at your race sometimes. Probably not. You never asked Patri who became your friend with the years, the girl never talked about your breakup either. You like it that way.

One hour after, you are on your bike, ready to start your race. Your helmet is a notch off from what security recommends, but you prefer to wear it like that. Ona had forbidden you to do so and you had accepted her request without flinching. But Ona isn’t here anymore, and you have no one to care about.

Well, your brother who is in your team maybe. And probably your parents, but even if you love them, they aren’t Ona.

The qualifying rounds put you in fourth place at the start, but after a daring overtaking you manage to get gain the third place. The weather is great honestly, a little bit sunny maybe but it’s better than the rain. You are in Italy after all.

The fight for the second place is hard, your opponent always manages to stand in your way to keep you from reaching it. It starts to frustrate you, even if your team keeps telling you in the helmet to take no risks. You don’t listen to them, still being careful not to make faults though, you don’t want to have any penalty against you.

“Lenta, hermanita por favor!” (Slower, my little sister please!)

You hear your brother’s voice but don’t listen to him either. He will probably kill you for it after the race , but if you manage to get the second place, it’s worth it right? Winning is the only thing that you have left. The only thing that makes you feel a little alive.

That’s why you don’t hesitate to take other risks to get the second place. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.

It’s the first time since you’re a teenager that you lose the control of your motorcycle, but it’s a strange feeling. You feel yourself flying and the helmet getting ripped off your head during the crash. After that it’s all black, you just have little moments of consciousness from time to time.

“No no no no no! ¡ Y/N No me hagas esto! Respira por favor!” (Don’t do that! Breath please!”)

That’s your brother voice. You don’t know where you are, you hear people screaming and probably running next to you. But you are too tired. Falling asleep now probably will help you feel better, right?

“Sigue luchando. Piensa en Ona." (Keep fighting. Think about Ona.)

Ona? You think about her every single second of the day. You are surprised by this statement, but it has the advantage to wake you up a little. Your brother usually never mention your ex-girlfriend, knowing how much the breakup is destroying you.

“Alright we take her to the ambulance, now!”

If you were able, you probably would have rolled your eyes because of the strength that this man screamed with. You are not even able to open your eyes though, and you hate the way you feel your body not responding to what you want. But your head hurt and soon you are asleep again.

The next time you are awake, it was way quiet. You hear your parents and your brother, but you have to make a big effort to understand what they are saying.

“She called her name several times in the ambulance, but she’s asleep since”

Well, that’s embarrassing. It’s useless to wonder which name you called, there only is one woman in your head after all.

“Did you call her?”

Your mother.

“No. Y/N would have probably hated me if I did.”

Is he right? Maybe. You’ll think about it later.

“She has the right to know how Y/N is.”

Point for your father.

“I’ll call Patri instead.”

Well, it’s probably better that way. Patri is one of your best friends and if Ona wants to have news of you, she will ask Patri. But once again, she probably has no interest about your health anymore.

You fall back asleep again soon after that.

Patri’s face is white when she reaches the gym of FC Barcelona Femeni. It’s not Ona who realized it first, your ex-girlfriend is focused on her exercises next to Mariona.

“Patri you alright?” Pina asks, looking at her friend with worry.

Everyone raises their gaze on the girl, but she’s only looking at Ona. And Ona knows, right there. She gulps and stand up, her hand shaking.

“What happened?” Ona asks quietly.

But Patri takes her by the hand to take her out. She doesn’t want to explain to Ona what happened in front of the others. She doesn’t know how the younger one will react at the news, and she’s scared of her reaction to be honest. Every single person in the team know how much Ona is sad about your breakup, even if she’s the one who chose to have it that way.

“Y/N had an accident during the race” Patri starts, looking at Ona with attention. “I don’t know what her injuries are or anything else. But she has that awful crash, and they came with the ambulance and those kinds of white curtains.”

Ona knows what the curtains are for. It’s to protect the dignity of the runner in the case of a serious injury… or worse. Very worse. Her face passes from white to green.

“Is there a video from the crash?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to…”

But Ona doesn’t listen. Like you, she’s stubborn. She wants to know. She needs to know. She doesn’t know when the accident happened, but the video of it is easy to find on social media. She doesn’t react at all during several seconds and Patri wondered if Ona’s mind crashed, too.

“She loosened her helmet” Ona whispers at first.

“What?” Patri frowned.

“She loosened her helmet! She loosened her helmet and now she’s probably dead!”

Ona’s shouting and Patri prefer that, but it’s surprising. Ona isn’t the kind of girl who shout usually. She puts a comforting hand on Ona’s arm before talking.

“We don’t know that for now” she tries, with a comforting voice.

“Haven’t you seen the crash? Haven’t you seen of hard her head hit the ground? She didn’t move after that! At all!”

Patri doesn’t know what to answer at that. Ona’s right and she regrets to have inform her so soon, without having news of you. Or your brother, who had kind of a crush for Patri before realizing that she’s as gay as you are. You still tease him about it years later.

“I’ll try to call her brother, ok? But for now, let’s get out of here.”

When you wake up next time, you have enough strength to be able to open your eyes. You don’t know what time it is, but the sun is shining behind almost closed blinds. There is someone on a chair next to you, but you are disappointed to realize that it’s only your brother. Not Ona.

“Hola” he whispers when he realizes that your awake.

You only answer with a grunt, unable to talk for now. You feel sleepy again, but you want to talk with him a little bit.

“We are at the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

You close your eyes briefly to make him understand that you remember. Your throat feels too scratchy to talk for now. You’ll learn later that they have to intubate you to keep you alive.

“You’re lucky you’re alive, I’ll kill you a second time if you weren’t. They want to get you back in Barcelona tonight, are you okay with that?”

You don’t answer right away. Why can’t they keep you here?

“The team think it would be easier to be somewhere where they speak Spanish. And we will be closer to Mama and Papi.”

Your brother seems to understand your questions. It’s a great thing that you are both so close. You close your eyes again now and he nods before taking your hand in his. You don’t really care where you are taking care off after all.

“You can sleep now. You need to rest to get better, ok?”

You squeeze his finger softly before closing your eyes for good now, falling asleep again. You are still asleep during the transfer to Barcelona and when you wake up again you are in the Spanish’s city hospital.

Once again, it’s your brother who is here when you open your eyes. He changed his clothes but he’s still here, reading a newspaper with his feet on your bed.

“Don’t you have a house?” you groan.

He rolls his eyes after having looked at you for two seconds. Maybe to realize that he wasn’t dreaming. He threw carefully the journal next to you without putting his feet down, but everything is still blur.

“I can’t read it” you whisper.

“The Spanish’ motorcycle prodigy almost died in an awful crash yesterday. Her condition remains alarming” your brother read for you.

He’s angry. You don’t answer anything, what should you say anyway? You know that it’s your fault, if you were a little more careful nothing of that would have happened. You know too that you aren’t on the point to die, your brother wouldn’t have scolded you if that was the case.

“What are my injuries?” you ask without looking at him.

He sighs loudly before answering.

“You have broken ribs, a broken tibia, your cheekbone too, your elbow is in pieces, your shoulder has been dislocated again and you have a massive concussion. They thought that you have something broken in your spine, but it’s just a massive bruise. Oh, and you have other bruises almost on every part of your body, when it’s not burn because of the asphalt. They had to put stitches somewhere on your head and your brow bone too.”

you stay silence for several seconds, completely stunned. These are massive injuries, you know it. It will probably need a lot of time to heal all of them and that mean that you will miss the end of the championship. You were on the top 3, and it’s an awful disillusionment for you. You were already picturing yourself on the podium at the end of the season.

“How many time am I supposed to stay in bed? Before starting my rehab?”

He frowns softly, not expecting this question.

“They don’t know for now if you elbow will be well enough to start racing again”

“Of course it will be” you snort.

“No” your brother answer. “It’s serious, Y/N. You maybe won’t be able to drive a motorcycle again. On a circuit at least.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t have the choice. This is all I have left now.”

Your breakup was awful for you, but it was for your family too. You weren’t always careful with you, but Ona pushed you to be reasonable and stayed in the track. Now you don’t have anyone to hold you back. Ona was the only one you were listening. You don’t listen to anyone now. Only your Abuela when she when she emotional blackmails you. But your loved ones try not to use that card too much to not burn it.

“You have to stop that. You still have people who care for you. The Oldies do, I do, your friends do. I know that the breakup sucks, but you can’t play with your life like you do.”

“Piss off” is all you mumble back.

Because you know he’s right, but what are you supposed to do now that he’s here with you and you would give ten years of your life to swap him with Ona? He doesn’t answer anything, knowing that you’re out of arguments and that you know he’s right.

“Did she… Did she call you?”

“She didn’t have to” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I called Patri as soon as we were in your hospital room in Italy.”

This hurt a little more, to be honest. You are not aware that Ona was with Patri every time she received a call or a message from your brother. You sight softly before closing your eyes. Your head starts to hurt like hell, which is probably normal for a concussion.

You wake up several hours later and you already know that it’s the night. There isn’t any noise coming from outside your room and no light from outside. But there is someone sitting on the chair next to you.

“Ona?”

It’s seems almost impossible, but it’s definitively Ona. You are able to recognize her silhouette in the dark after all these years passed with her. Even if you haven’t seen her in the last three months.

“It’s worse than anything” she mumbles, looking somewhere near your broken leg.

“What?”

“Not knowing how you are. I thought that break up with you will help me to stop worrying about your races, but it’s worse every time. I almost called you or messaged you before every race just to hear your voice, but I just couldn’t. And then I learned about your accident, and I have to live with the thought that you were dead for several hours.”

She raises her eyes on you, and you have trouble to support her gaze, even if you are in the dark.

“I’m sorry” you finally say.

“Really?”

She seems unconvinced and she has every right to be. She knows you, better than anyone.

“Well, I’m sorry that you were worried because of me. But as you see, I’m alive.”

She rolls her eyes and let her back go against the chair she is sitting on. You still feel strange, without knowing if it’s because of the drugs or because you are dreaming. You don’t have really anything to lose, so you ask.

“Is it real life?”

Ona looked at you with an obvious surprise on her beautiful face. God you missed her so damn much.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it real or am I dreaming?”

“Are you making the move where you ask me if I am an angel?”

You stupidly laugh before regretting it, your ribs protesting hardly. Ona seems alarmed when you groan in pain, putting your non-injured hand on it.

“I’m ok” you whisper, taking several small breaths, the big one would have been too hurtful.

“You are not” Ona mumbles.

She’s right.

“It’s less painful than the thought that I lost you.”

She sighs once again and looks at her fingers before shaking her head softly. You wanted to grab her hand, but she’s on your bad side and your arm is in that awful cast.

“Tell me what I have to do to have a second chance, Oni. I’ll do every single thing you’ll ask me. I swear. Please” you beg when she stays silence for several seconds.

“What if I ask you to stop your stupid moto?”

There is a challenge in her voice, and you know why. One time, she told you that she’s not even sure that if she asks you to choose between her and your sport, you’ll chose her. At that time, you didn’t know that she was serious, you thought that it was something she wasn’t thinking and said due to the fight. How wrong you were.

“I’ll do it” you answer without any doubt.

She seems surprised, looking at you with two big eyes. You have always loved Ona’s eyes, some people said that brown eyes are the most common and expressionless. They never have crossed Ona’s gaze.

“I saw what a life without you is Ona and I don’t want that life. I want you and if I have to stop my sport, I’ll do it if you still want me.”

She sighs and rubs her eyes. She seems tired to be honest, but maybe because it’s the middle of the night and that she’s supposed to be asleep right now.

“I didn’t break up with you because I don’t love you anymore. I still do and I think I will for all my life. I need you to be a part of my life too.”

Her words are melody in your ears, but you feel like there still is something else. Like if something was restraining her.

“But…?” you mumble, looking for her eyes.

“But I can’t continue like this. I thought you were dead.”

She’s crying now and your heart hurt like if someone just punch it. You move in the bed, trying desperately to touch her or anything to try to comfort her. Your ribs and your legs burn awfully, and you ignore your elbow hurting in protest.

“Ona I’m so sorry, I swear” you say, managing to take her hand in yours.

The position is awful, and you wonder briefly if you can throw up even if you haven’t eaten anything since almost two days.

“I didn’t think it will hurt you that way. Please don’t cry” you continue.

She shakes her head softly, kind of laughing between her tears.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you left me. And you blocked me everywhere.”

That point hurts, too. You weren’t even able to look at her social media to have news of her, you were reduced to follow fan’s account of her.

“I just couldn’t live with you popping randomly on my timelines. It hurts too much every time.”

You nod and that the gesture who make your position too hurtful. You roll on your back, trying to hold your whine of pain. But Ona sees it anyway and frown almost instantly.

“Do you want me to call them to have more painkillers?”

“Are they ok with you being here? I don’t want them to make you leave” you admit with a law voice.

There is a beam of silence.

“I won’t leave your side” she says in a comforting voice.

You want to believe that she means it for like all your life. But having her tonight is what you have best for now. So, you nod, closing shortly your eyes when she rings the nurses. The door is open only a minute after and you open your eyes again when you hear Ona’s voice.

“I think she’s ready for more painkillers” the brunette says.

“I will give some to you” the nurse says to you before adding something in your intravenous. “What hurts?”

“Everything” you admit softly.

She nods and gives you a smile in sympathy. You look at her doing her things, missing Ona’s small winces at your admission. The nurse starts to talk again when she’s at the door, ready to leave.

“You will feel better like this. After that it will be great if you try to eat something. You will be sleepy for now though.”

Your eyes fly to Ona who is already looking at you. She said that she will stay by your side, but does she meant while you sleep too? She probably has training or somewhere to go. A match to play? You don’t know which day is it anymore, the painkillers are starting to kick already, making you confuse.

“Ona” you manage to say.

“Sleep, Hermosa. I’ll be here when you wake up, ok?”

Two weeks after, you are finally leaving the hospital. You still have to leave in a wheelchair, much to your disappointment. But with almost half of your body injured, there is no way that you are able to walk with crutches.

The only positive thing is that the person who is pushing the wheelchair is Ona and that she managed to make it funny, sliding on it in the hospital’s floor. Your brother is following with your suitcases, smiling softly while watching both of you.

After learning that you will be alright, you parents went home in Mallorca two days before you were authorized to go home. They proposed to you to come back to Mallorca with them and you have to admit that you miss your island, but there is no way that you are somewhere Ona isn’t.

When you felt better, you had a very intense and long discussion about your relationship, both of your feelings, what you both expect from that said relationship and where you want it to go.

Ona is the one who will look after you on daily basis, but sometimes your brother will need to take you to your appointment when Ona is away or training. The end of the season is soon here, but there still is the Olympics this Summer so she has to prepare herself intensively.

Your girlfriend’s here, one month after, when you are in the doctor’s office for the worst moment of your professional life. Sitting next to you, she’s holding your hand when the doctor looks at you with an awful sorry face.

“I don’t know where to start” he begins, playing with the sheets on his desk.

“Just go straight into it, Doc” you sigh softly.

You know already that you will hate what is going to be say. Ona’s fingers stroking your hand help, but your heart is still beating faster than ever.

“You are making good progress, I saw that they removed your cast on your feet, but we are really concerned about your elbow. We don’t think it will be fit enough for you to be able to start motorcycle in a professional way anymore.”

You were waiting for it, but it’s still hurt to hear that. Motorcycle is the only thing you knew since you were a teenager, you never thought about doing anything else in your life. You swallow softly before passing a hand on your face. You did everything you can to be able to start again, followed every advice your team gave you. But it’s not enough.  

“I don’t know what to say” you finally mumble, looking at an imaginary point somewhere on the desk. “It’s all I know; I don't know how to do anything else.”

“I can pick you an appointment with our psychotherapist if you want to. It can help.”

“Can we leave? I’ll tell you if I want one”

For now, you just want to get out of this office and be able to breath some fresh air. Ona helps you to get up even if you don’t need help anymore. You suppose it’s a way to comfort you. You are glad for her. She doesn’t say anything while you are getting out of the building, but she doesn’t let your hand go when you lean against the railing once outside.

“What am I going to do, Ona?” you whisper softly.

She let go of your hand now, but it’s only to pass her arm around your waist and hold you close.

“Whatever you want mi Amor. It’s ok not to know now, but you still have a bunch of possibilities. We will figure it out together, yeah?”

She kisses your cheek, and you close your eyes, letting yourself being cuddle a little more. It’s not the same feeling that the one when you lost Ona. You know there is different exit doors, you just have to find the good one. Ona will be your light in the dark.

Several weeks later, you are in France. Not for a race, but for playing the WAG for your girlfriend who is playing the final today. She introduces you to others girlfriends/wife of her teammates and you get along great with everyone. You watched every single game in the stadium, and you were able to see Ona several times in between. You missed her and she was worried sick to let you alone at home, but you are pretty fine.

You are famous in the world of sport so it’s not a surprise that you are not able to skip some interviews while going to the stand to attend the finale.

“Y/N” said one journalist when he puts her microphone under your mouth, with an awful French accent. “You announced your retirement sooner this month because of your massive injuries. How are you feeling?”

“I’m still sad about it, of course. It wasn’t my choice and I think it makes it harder but I didn’t have the choice. I’m sad not to be able to finish the championship this year, I was really well ranked, but you know…”

You shrug, thinking that’s between his accent and yours, people on social media will have a great fun.

“Do you think you will come back in the motorcycle world one day?”

“Not as a racer obviously, but why not. I still need to figure what to do with my life, but first I have to heal correctly.”

“Thanks for your answers” he smiles. “Do you have a favorite for today?”

“Spain, obviously” you smile back.

“Have you a favorite player?”

You almost roll your eyes at that. Your relationship with Ona is a common knowledge for everyone, you are not hiding yourself. You both weren’t as famous before and you were posting without really thinking about it.

“Oh, I don’t know… Number two is pretty great” you smirk, looking at the jersey you are wearing.

You hear someone giggle in the background, and you are pretty sure to recognize Irene’s wife waiting for you with Mateo. You soon say goodbye to the journalist to find your place in the stand. You are sitting next to Ona’s family obviously and your family made the travel too. They are sitting next to other Majorcans people, Cata’s family and Mariona’s brother and mother aren’t far away neither.

When Ona smiles at you during the national anthem after looking around to find you, you smile back and say “T’estimo” to her. You know that she can’t hear you, but she easily can read it on your lips.

You don’t know what the results of this game will be, like you don’t know what you will do in several months. But you know you will be fine, because you will be with her.

Ona is your forever and you don’t want another.

[rrxnjun]

where do broken hearts go? [lmk]

you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

pairing: mark lee x fem! reader

genre: exes to lovers. angst, fluff.

wc: 12k (11.926)

warnings: mention of sex, weed and alcohol, heartbreak, swearing, park jihoon of treasure is one sassy bitch and also accidentally somehow the main character of this fanfic plz dont @ me, inconsistent writing style bc i took 3 months and 3 depressive episodes to finish this fic

playlist: where do broken hearts go - one direction / too good to say goodbye - bruno mars / everytime - ariana grande / closer - waterparks / tornado warnings - sabrina carpenter / survive the night - the boyz

a/n: hey do some of you still remember me..... AHAHA tell a friend to tell a friend rrxnjun is BACK! this fic isn't the ideal vision i had in my mind but we are working on not being so hard on ourselves with our writing so! here we are. i still kind of like it :,)

When you walk up to your best friend’s apartment one day with a tub of ice cream under your arm and the biggest pout on your face, Park Jihoon makes a complete list of things you should do to get over your failed relationship with Mark Lee. And while you think your dear friend has some psychopathic tendencies sometimes, you’d say the list is actually pretty reasonable of him. 

There’s something about the five simple steps that makes you wonder if it’s really as easy as Jihoon makes it sound. And while you doubt it– because the pinging pain in your heart makes it seem like the heartbreak is truly going to kill you in a few minutes if you don’t do something about it– you give it a try, because come on… you’d do anything to not feel like this ever again.

Step one – cry it out.

“He was a cunt anyway,” Jihoon mutters as he steps into the living room with two spoons in his hands, throwing one of them to you– while almost managing to hit you in the middle of your forehead in the process, adding a concussion to the mix of problems you have going on right now– and you find yourself furrowing your brows at his hateful comment.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, as your best friend, I’m supposed to be on your side, no?” he says as he takes a seat on the sofa next to you, watching as you wrap one of the thick blankets you got for the male around your figure– you bought it mainly for yourself, because his apartment is cold as a freezer and you knew he wouldn’t buy one for you to use in the first place– and shrugs. “Besides, he broke your heart, and any male who does that is a cunt in my eyes.”

“I broke up with him,” you mourn, “so I broke my own heart,” you snicker, despair fully filling you up from the inside– fitting everywhere into your lungs and choking you up from how bad you truly feel. Now, this isn’t your first breakup– you’ve had your fair share of boyfriends in high school (in your baddie era, as Jihoon called it), but Choi Yeonjun from Maths class and Jung Woonyoung, the guy you dated for a total of 2 months over the summer break before he moved away, weren’t exactly boys you found yourself falling in love with. Sure, you liked them, you kissed them and went on dates with them– hell, you even hooked up with Yeonjun once before you realized the relationship truly wasn’t for you– but no one managed to cave into your heart just as much as Mark Lee, your first college boyfriend did.

“But you sure had a reason for it, come on!” Jihoon huffs, taking the tub of ice cream from your hands and opening it for you, since you’ve gotten quite weak from the lack of sleep and nutritions ever since the break up, hands clammy and not cooperating. “You don’t just break up with someone to break your own heart. He did that, that’s why you said goodbye to him,” he says before sitting the enormous tub of ice cream between your two bodies, nudging you to dig into the frozen delicacy.

“Yeah, but–”

“No buts, young lady. We are here to make you forget you ever even dated Mark Lee, so open up, eat the ice cream and focus your attention on Titanic so you can finally cry it out,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, you’d think he’s angry with you. Jihoon has this aura around him that makes you think he’s always at least a little annoyed at everything– but he told you to not mind it and that it’s just his sassy bitch attitude. 

He does have a point, though. You broke up with Mark because he broke your heart first– there was no other reason for it. If it was something minor, something small, you were sure you could work on it. You have, numerous of times before, brought up something and had a mature conversation about it– something you always so admired about Mark, being so cautious and understanding when navigating problems in the relationship– but when you bring up the same thing over and over, and it never gets fixed despite him telling you he’ll try harder next time, you think you’re allowed to feel a little heartbroken at his nonexistent efforts. And that’s exactly why you decided to quit the relationship– after a while, you felt like you were putting in more effort than he was, effectively making you feel like he’s not even that interested in dating you in the first place.

First, he just told you he was forgetful. He forgot he promised to pick you up from class one day– and you said that it’s okay, he is busy, after all– and it was the first time it happened, so you didn’t really mind that much, truly. Then, he forgot about the date you scheduled– but it was fine, because you didn’t have reservations anyway, you could change the day to any other day of the week, after all. He kept forgetting the stuff you told him in between the conversations you shared– and it was small things, you understand, but sometimes, you wondered if he was ever really listening to you at all. 

Forgetful soon turns not interested in your eyes, and when he doesn’t call you in the evening like he promised he would, when he doesn’t show up to the party you invited him to, because he forgot it was that day, you’re one step closer to calling it quits, because each and every one of these situations sends a sharp pain into your stomach. The last straw was just last week, though– and realistically, it was an important day, as much that you thought the day is somehow gonna fix everything, but the truth is somewhere completely else as Mark Lee forgets about your one year anniversary and never shows up at your doorstep for the dinner you prepared for the two of you like he promised he would. 

And it doesn’t click in him two days after either– you don’t even get a text. He got so forgetful over time that he forgot about you completely, and that’s when you took an uber to his place and broke up with him for good.

And even though the breakup was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt yourself go through, Jihoon is right– you’re not the one that broke your own heart. Mark Lee did that for you many times before, and this was just the breaking point.

“Fucking hell, you bought cookies and cream again?” Jihoon huffs when he takes another spoonful of the ice cream into his mouth, eyebrows furrowing at the sweet taste. Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you wipe your left cheek as you hum, immune to his nagging by now.

“You know I hate cookies and cream!”

“You know, Hoon, I bought this for myself. When you’re the one that’s heartbroken, we’ll share your favorite ice cream flavor instead,” you mumble, munching on the coldness on your tongue, sniffling a little when your eyes avert to the TV screen.

And after that, the teasing from your best friend’s side stops. Maybe it’s just because he hates to see you cry– and he rarely gets the chance, if you’re being honest, since you’re pretty good at handling your emotions– but you secretly know that it’s because when he looks back at the TV screen in front of the two of you, the sad part of the movie hasn’t even started yet and the tears are not the result of the movie, but of your own thoughts instead.

Step two – give him back all of his stuff and the stuff he’s given you that reminds you of him. Demand that he does the same.

Now, step two was a thing most couples do when they break up. Realistically, it makes sense– you wouldn’t want stuff that’s not yours just laying around, and also, it’s just bound to remind you of the person you lost. Naturally, you’d want to return it.

“Why does he have to return my things as well?” you mutter under your breath as Jihoon helps you fold all Mark’s hoodies into a cardboard box, alongside with wrapping the little things your ex boyfriend made out of ceramic for you in tissue paper like you asked him to– even though he complained and said that it shouldn’t matter to you if they break, because you are the heartbroken one– but you held those little things too close to your heart to let them get damaged in the first place.

“Because that’s how it works,” Jihoon hums, watching as you throw another one of Mark’s shirts onto the top of his head, shielding his vision. “What, you don’t want your stuff back?”

“I mean…” you mumble, deeply considering of the fact that the thought of getting your stuff back didn’t even cross your mind until now, before you realize your favorite pair of socks is thrown somewhere in Mark’s drawers– the blue ones with peaches on them– and you suddenly have the revelation that while you don’t necessarily need the stuff back, you’d love to wear those socks again. “I guess…” you note as you walk over to Jihoon and take a glance into the full cardboard box, looking over the stuff and chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“It’s like witchcraft, y’know,” Jihoon points out, looking at you with fierce eyes mirroring the stupid idea that just flashed through his brain, “if you don’t exchange the things, a piece of you is still kept at his apartment and you won’t be able to move on.”

And again, Park Jihoon does have psychopathic tendencies, but he may be onto something here. So you listen to him as you nod along and close the cardboard box, ready to drive over to Mark Lee’s apartment and drop off the things you’ve collected from him for the past year. The box includes all of the clothes messily scattered across your drawers and your closet, the picture frame of you two together that you always had on your night stand, the ceramic bowls and a little tiger sculpture he made for you when he took a pottery class with his friend Renjun, and the lost guitar pics you found under your bed and at the very top of your bookshelf from when he used to bring his guitar along and play you songs on rainy afternoons. The only things of Mark’s that you kept were the love letter he gave you for your birthday and the USB with his cover of Justin Bieber’s Off my face on it that he shyly gifted to you on one of your dates; but you would never tell Jihoon that in fear of him getting rid of those most precious memories for you.

It’s good to let go, but you don’t think you’re wrong for wanting to keep something to remind you of the good times. The times you still felt loved by Mark.

“Off we go,” you say, standing up and bringing the box towards your front door, your best friend at your feet. He promised to drive you to Mark’s place– you think he’s worried about you meeting your ex-boyfriend face to face for the first time since the break up, but he said it’s because you’re too broke to Uber all the time, efficiently throwing all the considerate thoughts you were accrediting him out the window– and after a few minutes of the drive, you find yourself standing on the doorstep of Mark Lee's apartment.

Taking a deep breath in and out, almost chickening out with the flood of thoughts and excuses you could say to Jihoon when you come back to his car with the box still in your hands– sayings like “he wasn’t home” or “he didn’t want those back”, the latter stupider than the first– you decide to face your problems head-on and finally knock on the mahogany door, waiting for Mark to answer. And he does– of course he does, because he’s always home, and as his ex-girlfriend of one year, you're painfully aware of the fact– but when that happens, you feel your heart falling all the way down to your stomach, crushing you and suddenly making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Um… hi,” he greets you, voice a little groggy, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while– and when you meet his eyes, the deep chocolate orbs you always found yourself admiring and writing silent odes to in your head, you quickly glance away in fear of staring into them for too long and making decisions you wouldn’t like to make.

“Hi,” you awkwardly greet back, clearing your throat and moving a little in your place, shifting the weight from one foot to the other. You're surprised you're able to keep up with the conversation, thoughts running in your brain faster than you can comprehend them, heartbeat ringing in your ears from the unexpected anxiety. Maybe Jihoon was right and you should've taken a shot before coming here– at least you'd have more courage and social skills clearly needed for this kind of interaction. “I… brought you back your things,” you say, finally looking up at the male and chewing on your lips, letting out an awkward, tense laugh when he stares at you with an empty look, “figured you’d want them back,” you add, watching as the male opens his mouth and closes it in what seems to be shock before he presses his lips tightly together and nods at you.

“Uh, yeah,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as he watches you clumsily hold up the cardboard box to him, ready to leave his stuff there with him and escape as fast as you can, not really minding how you'll get back to Jihoon's car– if jumping down the window of the entrance hall is the fastest option, you're ready to get to it. The truth is, everything is starting to get a little too hard to bear– his familiar scent filling your nose, the hoodie he wore to your first date enveloping his figure, his messy hair reminding you of the many times you brushed your fingers through it in attempts to smooth it down. It’s only been two weeks since you last saw him, but it was starting to feel as if you forgot about him already and were now relearning all the things you once fell in love with again, looking at him in the same light, yet noticing him and all the small details a little bit differently. “Thanks, I… I actually, uh… I have your stuff here too, so if you want it back I’ll– I can just–”

“Y-yeah,” you nod, almost a little too eagerly, “that would be… cool,” you say, trying hard to ignore the fact that he had your stuff packed too, intending to give it to you, and the crashing reality that comes with it, telling you he was prepared to do this before you were and how it’s making you feel kind of shitty.

Mark moves further into the apartment, the sound of him dropping the box to the floor filling your ears before he’s back at the door in no time, a similar cardboard box in his hands that he offers to you with a tense smile on his face. “Wanted to bring it around so I had an excuse to see you, but you, uh… beat me to it, I guess…” 

Looking at him as you take the box out of his hands, gaze as if to tell him not to say such words to you when you’re still so fragile to his effect, you only nod and mutter out a simple “Thanks,” before you turn on your heel and intend to take the stairs back down.

“I’ll… see you around, then?” Mark calls after you as you take the first step out– something about it making you feel like it’s the first step out of his life, in a way– and you only nod, because one, you truly don’t know how else to reply to this question, and two, you really, really don’t know if you’ll ever see him again, but you can't bring yourself to say it to his face. Somehow, it would feel like torture to admit it– and you're not prepared for that reality just yet.

Rushing outside and getting into Jihoon's car, you almost feel like you’re on the verge of breaking, and when the male asks you how it went as he’s reversing out of the parking lot, you only bid him a one-word reply before you look through the box on your way home, too impatient to stay back from the memories.

And Jihoon didn’t really think this one through, because the fact that you gave Mark back the things that reminded you of him meant that he did the same, and now all the things you brought along to Mark’s apartment were in the cardboard box, all stained with countless memories and feelings attached to each and every single thing. The artwork you made for him, the little heart-shaped keychain you gave him for his birthday, the plant you gave him that was now long dead and dried out– those were once your stuff, but all in this world with the intention of love being sent out through them to your now ex-lover, and the fact that they’re in your possession again instead of his is not making letting go of Mark any easier. 

And maybe Mark was right and he truly was forgetful, because as you rummage through the contains of the box, while you find out your favorite blue socks are nowhere to be seen, surely still buried somewhere in the drawers of his closet, obliterated out of his memory, there’s a gray hoodie sitting at the bottom and it’s surely not yours– it’s his and it was always your favorite, and you always used to wear it at his place when you got cold or when you just really wanted to smell his cologne, and you suddenly don't know if it's presence in the box slipped his mind or if he truly left it there on purpose. 

Couldn’t he forget about that too?

Step three – block his number.

The third step comes into place after you accidentally slip out to Jihoon about the phone call you get on a Friday night– more like two hours into Saturday already– and now, most of all, you must admit that your best friend might be right about his advice.

Your phone starts ringing at 2:11 AM, and while you weren’t sleeping– you’ve been having some trouble with dozing off without being overbeared with thoughts lately– the name flashing on your screen shocks you for more reasons than one. 

Mark Lee calls you, three weeks after your breakup, in the middle of the night. You haven’t spoken since the time he gave you back your stuff, and even though you’ve done quite a bit of stalking on his social media, you have no news of him or his whereabouts. Naturally, a call from him in the middle of the night startles you and shakes you to the core. He has no reason to call you, so your brain does the math and concludes there must be an emergency– and god knows that even after being hurt by him, you could never ignore him and leave him hanging in a state of need.

So you pick up– with shaky hands and a raging heartbeat, expecting the worst. Listening to the other side of the line, you take a deep breath in and out, bracing yourself for the impact of the words you’re going to hear. The voice on the other side is laced with haziness and his tone is almost a little tired– worn out, even– when he finally greets you from wherever he is.

“Hi,” Mark says, and for a second, your heartbeat steadies itself and the world stops spinning– he sounds okay, and for a moment, you’re grateful to hear his voice.

Humming, as if to collect your thoughts, you clear your throat before you offer him an answer. “Hello,” you greet, “what’s- what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hear your voice,” he says, almost a little abruptly to your question. He doesn't overthink his answer and he doesn't give himself time to think if it's a good idea or not– he just blurts it out and now it's your problem to deal with, when it's there, out in the open. Your palms get sweaty and you start to lose feeling in your fingertips, making you take a few seconds to yourself to process the situation before you decide to finally answer to the strange sentence. 

“It’s late, Mark,” you mumble, and you involuntarily wonder if the sentence doesn’t have double meaning– it's too late for anyone to call at this hour, and at the same time, it’s been weeks since your ex boyfriend lost the privilege of listening to your voice when he can’t sleep in the middle of the night whenever he feels like it– and it’s now too late to do anything about it or make it any easier to deal with.

“Shit, sorry,” he chuckles to himself, and you suddenly recognise the laziness in his voice to be the effect of his and his best friend Hyuck’s Friday endeavors; the sweet coating of his voice being the effect of none other than the momentary bliss that comes with the relaxation of his body and mind when he's high. “Didn’t realize,” he concludes, making you shake your head at him in disbelief– not really mattering that he can’t see you in the act.

“‘s okay,” you mumble– and in your perfect reality, you hang up the phone now. In your perfect reality, you connect it to your charger and close your eyes, calling it a night. You fall asleep with no thoughts rummaging through your brain and wake up in the morning to a new sunny day, ready to take on the responsibilities of what’s to come, having productive days ended with smiles and a hot dinner you make for yourself just because you feel like it. In your perfect reality, you protect your own heart. This is not your perfect reality, though– and that’s why you stay on the line, listening to Mark ramble on the other side of the phone, intoxicated and slightly out of it. You wonder if he’ll remember calling you when he wakes up tomorrow. You wonder if he’ll regret it, or if he’ll just shrug his shoulders at the fact and go on with his day, not really paying you much thought when he’s sober.

“I was with Hyuck just now,” he says, and you hear the rustling of his sheets on the other side of the line, making you wonder if he’s washed up and ready for bed, “and– and I remembered how we all used to hang out together, y’know… you with us all– you always clicked with my friends and it was so cool and stuff… and I realized, right, they’re not as funny when you’re not around… but anyways… Jeno’s girlfriend asked about you, ‘cause she didn’t know…and telling her felt so silly, ‘cause they all kept looking at me and I knew they were pitying me, but it was my fault in the first place–”

“Mark–” 

“No, it’s true. And it’s cool, I don’t– I don’t blame you, or anything. I just… I dunno, I guess it got me wondering…”

The line goes silent on the other side, and you settle into your own bed, giving him time to continue. When he doesn’t say anything for a long time, you wonder if he’s fallen asleep.

“Mark?”

“Hm?”

“You still there?”

“Yeah. How was your day?” he asks, tone of voice casual as ever, as if he’s forgotten about all the words he’s told you up until now–  as if it’s not 2 AM and both of your hearts aren’t breaking at the sound of each other’s voice on the other side of the line.

“It… it was okay, I guess,” you say nonetheless, too hopeless to find a way to end the conversation before he does. 

“That’s good to hear,” he says, sighing, “that’s… awesome. You still taking those yoga classes on Mondays?” he asks, and you snicker to yourself– because what kind of question even is that? Who asks that on a late night call, when there are more important things you two need to talk about?

“Yeah,” you lie, still. You haven’t been since the breakup.

“That’s great. Wouldn’t want you to… y’know,” he laughs to himself, “be too sad over this… ‘t was for the better, after all.”

You hear yourself hum– the noise way more stable than your actual words ever could be– and you find yourself feeling silly in the conversation, lying to your ex boyfriend through your teeth; because at the end of the day, you don’t want him to worry about you– because it seems to be the case that he is. And it’s stupid, because he hurt you and you shouldn’t care, maybe you should’ve even show him that you’re heartbroken and that he is the reason behind your pain and the way your life is falling apart, bit by bit, but you don’t find it in you to be so cold and heartless. At the end of the day, you still care about Mark and there’s nothing you could do about it. Turns out that breaking up with him doesn’t magically make the feelings go away– and you knew that, but now you have proof.

“What were you saying before, by the way? You… trailed off at the end,” you say, reminding him of his previous words.

“Oh, that,” he snickers into the microphone again, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he twists and turns in the sheets, “don’t worry about it. It was selfish of me.”

It was selfish of him to call in the first place. But you won’t tell him that.

“What was it?”

“It’s just… I was wondering if I lost you forever, y’know… if there was a chance we could ever…” he trails off again, but this time, you don’t bug him to complete it. You’re not stupid– you know the implication of his words. You’ve known him for a long time, after all– maybe you should’ve predicted this when you picked up the call.

“I mean…” you hum, “you didn’t lose me completely, if that’s– if that’s what’s keeping you up at night. We’re still friends, aren’t we?” you say, and in the corner of your brain, you can’t even believe the words yourself– but if it was selfish of him to call, you think it’s okay for you to selfishly fill both of you with empty promises, just for the sake of not breaking your heart even further.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, “that’s– …I’m glad.”

The line’s silent after that, and you wonder if you two have used up the list of words to say to each other this time, if there’s truly no other answer at the end of this conversation. When the situation gets too much for you to bear, the heaviness finally settling on your shoulders and your chest, you finally find the courage to sniffle out a quiet goodbye.

“Good night, Mark.”

“G’night,” he drags out, mind still cloudy. “Love you,” spills out from his tongue, like a bad habit.

He ends the call before you get to say it back. Maybe that’s for the better.

And the truth is, you should’ve really listened to Park Jihoon and blocked Mark’s number after this encounter. But you didn’t– you’re too weak for Mark’s sweet words, finding yourself still hanging on to his saccharine voice and the muffled ramble he has reserved for you only every time he gets high and loses all self-control before calling you on Friday nights selfishly demanding your attention, somehow falling for him like a teenager over and over again despite promising yourself you're gonna move on for real now.

Step four – date someone new.

“So…” Jihoon starts one day, eyes glued to your skull like laser beams, the tone of his voice so incomprehensible you think he’s going to scold you for the actions of your previous days– even though you haven't told him about the midnight calls with Mark and so if he's not going through your phone, he has no way of knowing. Tense and nervous, still, knowing that the impact of his words could either heal you or cut you open like a knife– damn him for always being so brutally honest, no matter how soft his heart is for you– you smile at him with tight lips, crossing your arms on your chest in defense.

“So…?” 

A nervous laugh almost escapes your throat. If Jihoon wasn’t suspicious of you before, he surely is now– or he just finds you strange by the way he furrows his brows at you and scans you up and down, taking a second for himself before he sighs and seemingly decides to drop the weird way you’re acting right now, shaking his head and focusing on the task at hand.

“I was thinking… my friend asked about you,” he says, nonchalantly looking down onto his hands and taking the dirt out from behind his nails, as if it’s not a big deal and he doesn’t even care that much. “Choi Hyunsuk from Biology, you know him– shabby haircut, kinda short, failed the class so he has to retake it this year…?”

“I think you’re forgetting the fact that the two of us have completely different majors, Hoonie,” you sweetly smile at him with irony, making him roll his eyes with a sigh before he tries again.

“The guy who ripped his pants at Xiao Dejun’s party last year?”

“Oh, that one! You should’ve said that earlier, of course I remember Choi Hyunsuk from your Biology class,” you nod hurriedly, the gears finally clicking in your brain.

“As if I wasn’t talking about him for the last few minutes–”

“Okay, and what about him?” you cut him off, already tired of his annoying tangent.

“I said he asked about you.”

“I heard that already,” you nod, looking at him with expecting eyes. “And?”

Jihoon stares at you, unblinking, as if you fell on your head and he’s trying to comprehend if you’re still here with him or if you got a concussion and need to be transferred into a hospital. When the contact of his eyes on your skin gets a bit too uncomfortable– you swear his looks could actually kill someone, if he tried enough– you furrow your brows at him in confusion and shake your head in disbelief.

“Why are you staring at me like that, Park Jihoon?”

“Just tryna see if you’re really that stupid or if you’re just pretending,” he mutters under his nose before he sighs again– his favorite activity whenever you’re around, it seems– and speaks up again, tone of voice reminding you of a kindergartener teacher trying to explain why it gets dark in the evening to a bunch of 4 year olds. “You know, when people ask about you, they are usually interested in you, as in, my friend Hyunsuk didn’t ask because you’re nice, but because you’re hot, if you know what I'm getting onto.”

“Oh,” you get out, eyes wide in concern and a little shaken-up, “well, that’s… nice of him, I guess.”

Jihoon only hums at you before he looks around himself and brings out the bag of chips that he left open by his right side only a few seconds ago, not really speaking more about the topic. It’s either he’s waiting for you to get what he’s hinting at, or he’s just waiting for you to get even more confused and ask him about it in a few seconds again– either way, he’s not the one doing more talking right now, because conversations with you, the most oblivious person he’s ever seen, are never productive if he goes too fast.

Chewing on the chips, his eyes go wide when you finally open your mouth and talk more about the topic at hand– just like he predicted. “Why are you telling me this?”

Your best friend swallows before he places the bag of chips back to its original place and turns his whole body so he’s facing you, speaking up again. “I was thinking that maybe, just maybe, you’d like to hang out with him. Like a date, before you ask– because I know you’re gonna ask– and why? – because, again, I know you’re gonna ask– because I simply think you should try to date again to get your mind off the loser you broke up with two months ago,” he says, blunt and honest, answering all of your unsaid questions at once, and before you know it, he has you snickering and shaking your head in disapproval.

“Absolutely not,” you retort, waving your hands in the air to only further show your disagreement with the proposition, “that would just be a massive catastrophe.”

“Why? Hyunsuk’s nice.”

“I didn’t say he isn’t, it’s just…”

“Just?” he probes you, eyebrows raised and questioning.

“I… don’t know,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek, aimlessly shrugging. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea, Jihoon.”

“Because of Mark?” he asks, and the moment his name escapes your best friend’s mouth, the whole room goes strangely quiet– you feel your heartbeat in your throat, the tips of your fingers start tingling and you swear that if you concentrate hard enough, you could feel a bead of sweat drip down your forehead with the incoming stress and nerves only the mention of your ex boyfriend brings you.

“No, that’s not it–”

“Sure,” he nods, sighing to himself– and there it is again, the judging look you so despise.

“You can’t just expect me to date other people a few weeks after my break up, Jihoon,” you exclaim, “that– that wouldn’t even be fair to your friend. You know I wouldn’t be invested,” you explain, and your friend rolls his eyes in frustration, sighing to himself.

“Oh but I know that! And Hyunsuk does too,” he shakes his head at you, “just thought the company of someone else could take your mind off things.”

“I have you,” you try.

“Yeah, but all we do when we’re together is mope about Mark Lee,” Jihoon snickers, “and don’t get me wrong, I’m more than open to bitch about your ex boyfriend and as your best friend, I don’t mind, but the fact that you’d be hanging out with someone else could take your mind off him, because you wouldn’t feel comfortable talking about him with someone else, y’know?”

You shut your eyes closed, a heavy sigh heaving out of your body as you try hard to concentrate and not lose it, and with how Jihoon’s tone gets softer and he’s not as loud with his brutal, yet logical advice, he must feel you getting overwhelmed and accommodates to your needs. “Look, it’s gonna be fun. I promise. Hang out with someone new, feel wanted and hot and pretty again, get some male attention that’s not your ex boyfriend, and you’ll see how it makes you feel. If you hate it, you hate it and you can slap me, I don’t know... If you don’t, you can keep dating around with my friends, and I swear I’ll hook you up only with the nice ones,” he takes your hand into his and waves it around in comfort, making you open your eyes and look at him again.

Seeing the softness and encouragement in your best friend’s eyes, you sigh to yourself. All this time, he’s tried to help you– what if you finally follow his advice? Who knows, it might even help. 

Sighing, you squeeze his palm and hover over him to get the stranded bag of chips he’s guarding on the other side of the sofa. “Fine,” you mutter, “but let your friend know that he’s the one paying, okay?”

“Perfect. I'll text him your number, then.“

And maybe Jihoon was right and after dolling yourself up and dressing up in your favorite dress just so you would feel as comfortable as possible, you don’t feel as bad when his friend Hyunsuk picks you up in his white Volvo and chats with you on the way to the restaurant. He makes good small talk and even gets a giggle out of you, the music in his car is low and you find yourself slowly easing into the situation. You don’t remember when the last time you went out with a guy that wasn’t Mark was, but it’s surprisingly nice. 

And Jihoon was right– you feel pretty. And when Hyunsuk opens the door for you after pulling up to the parking lot of the restaurant, you even feel wanted. You like the attention, just like any other girl would, and the smile you offer to your date seeps of tender shyness as you get out of the comfortable seat of his car. 

The illusion, though, is soon broken as you notice the restaurant he pulled up to. Your smile freezes, your palms get sweaty and you feel your heartbeat rummaging against your ribcage as soon as the idle atmosphere of the restaurant opens up before you. And realistically, you could turn on your heel and get back to the car, tell Hyunsuk that you want to go to another restaurant– but you don’t do it, against your biggest wishes, because you worry that the boy already made a reservation and you don’t want to ruin an evening that’s going well so far.

“Everything alright?” your date checks up on you, seemingly noticing the frown on your face, and when his worried eyes meet yours, it’s sealed– you’d feel too bad for pulling out of the date now. So you only do what you always do best– you put on your best relaxed smile and nod, catching up to him and ensuring him that you’re all okay and you didn’t just talk yourself out of an anxiety attack. 

Because you owe it to him and to Jihoon– both of them worked so hard to make you feel happy and help you to get over your ex boyfriend. It’s not Hyunsuk’s fault that he just managed to pick the restaurant your said ex boyfriend works at part-time. He had no way of knowing, and if you’re lucky enough, Mark wouldn’t be on today. He only works here part-time, it’s not like he’s here every day, and as far as you’re concerned, he only worked like two or three days a week when you dated. It would be a weird coincidence for him to be working the day you go there with your new date– you hope you’re not that unlucky.

Hyunsuk is a gentleman. Opening up doors for you, pulling out the chair for you, letting you talk and not interrupting you. He watches you with fond eyes and you almost try to feel bad for the fact that even if this ended well, the poor boy would just end up being a rebound. He deserves so much more, and you start to worry if this date was a good idea after all. Wasn’t it selfish of you to agree to this? 

“What do you want to get?” he asks as you open up the menu, and you squint at the prices, mentally taking a note to order the cheapest thing just in case he wants to pay for you at the end of the evening. 

“Spaghetti Bolognese,” you blurt out, despite it not being your favorite meal. Hyunsuk just stares at you with squinted eyes, but doesn’t disagree with you. After all, he has no way of knowing that you dislike the taste of the sauce in most restaurants– even though your conscience tells you that Mark knew that and always made sure to remind you about it before ordering for you, worried that you won’t get to eat much that evening– the only thing left to hope is that it tastes good in this particular place. 

“Okay, sure,” he nods and puts the menu down, smiling at you before engaging in a comfortable conversation with you. It feels like you’ve known Hyunsuk forever– his personality oddly reminding you of Jihoon’s caused mainly by the fact that the two have grown up together. Everything flows soundly, but you still find yourself anxiously picking at your cuticles as you cautiously look around the restaurant, fearing the fact that you could catch a glimpse of your ex boyfriend at any second.

And maybe you should be a psychic, because those bad feelings were not there for nothing– when you see a waiter walking out of the back and eyeing your table, ready to get your order, the boy is a few inches taller than your current date, raven hair messy, but still a little styled, dark circles under the man’s eyes, and there he is– your ex boyfriend. Mark Lee halts in his movements, wearing his work uniform, eyes wide, a hint of something that breaks you at least in two mirroring in his orbs before he turns on his heel and disappears in the back again. When he doesn’t come back and his co-worker joins you and Hyunsuk at your table with a warm smile, you stop waiting to see the glimpse of him you selfishly desired to catch despite fearing the interaction the whole evening.

You want to fall through the floor and disappear in the depths of this earth. For some reason, you feel mortified. What would he think? And why do you even care about his feelings? A million different thoughts run through your brain and you worry that you’re being too distant from your current date, but Hyunsuk’s warm eyes reassure you that he doesn’t mind. 

Piercing the food on your table with your eyes, you try to battle the noisy words running around your brain. 

It’s easy to say you’re over someone when you don’t see them. To have them in front of you, meet their gaze and acknowledge their existence and still be able to nod and say that you’ve moved on, is something completely different. 

Were you ever convinced that you were over Mark Lee in the first place, though?

After all of this– the months of following Jihoon’s advice, although making a few mishaps along the way as you continue to pick up Mark’s calls on Friday nights, snoop around his socials and let your mind wander to places it shouldn’t, overthinking everything and making you wish the relationship never ended in the first place– it’s time for the last step of it all. The last, most crucial part of this whole moving on process– the most important one, if you may.

Step five – avoid him at all costs.

Sounds easy, right? After the four previous steps, you’d already cried plenty about the lost months with your ex-boyfriend. You’d already given him back all of his stuff, not tying yourself to him with any material memory. You’d already gone on a date with someone new, choosing to distract yourself instead of letting yourself feel the emotions. After all the previous steps, this one’s supposed to be the easiest one. The one you’re supposed to want to do, after all. The break-up wasn’t messy, but it was still painful– it’s only natural for you to not want to see Mark ever again, right?

Wrong.

Because you never listen to the advice you’re given. That just wouldn’t be you, would it?

And so when Mark Lee calls you one day and tells you that he has a free train ticket to the Bukhansan stop, explaining that he was supposed to go hike there with Donghyuck who canceled on him last minute because of an assignment due midnight, you don’t really hesitate much before you shoot him a short text saying that you’re down and get ready for the short hike. 

When you meet your ex boyfriend at the station, his figure slightly slouched up until the moment his eyes meet yours, you feel the quiet tension in the air. You’ve seen each other a few times before this meeting– on a party you went to with Jihoon, at the campus when you went to class one morning, your ex boyfriend walking you towards the Art building, hell, you’ve even met in the grocery store, all accidental and making your heart leap in your chest with tension. This time, though, you’re here completely intentionally, just to hang out with him, and something about the fact makes a dull pain shoot all through your intestines, a sensation so uncomfortable you try to hide with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Ready for the hike?” he asks, adjusting the bag on his back, playing with the straps with clammy fingers. You can’t help but notice how he looks just like a little boy, in his little world, shielded from everything. He seems to have taken a protective stance, and you hate how the air between you shifted from how you two used to be when you were dating. Mark seems scared. Nervous. On top of his feet. Maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to this at all.

You’re already here, though. Turning around and leaving wouldn’t really work right now, as you take a step towards the train that’s just arrived, humming to your ex boyfriend in agreement. Taking a seat on the place Mark’s pointed to you on the train ticket, you try to loosen up your muscles and get as comfortable as you can, clearing your mind as you gaze outside of the window.

“How have you been?” he asks, clearing his throat.

Pressing your lips into a tight line, you turn to him as you search for an answer. “Better,” you nod, voice quiet. “You?”

Mark hums, chewing the inside of his cheek. “Good, good,” he lies through his teeth, “I’ve seen you at the restaurant the other day,” he hints, and you battle the sigh that’s begging to cut out of your throat. You don’t know where he’s going with the sentence. It’s not a question– only a proposition, barely even that– and you could ignore it with a nod of your head, you could pay it no mind as you see the bitterness in his gaze and the slightly self-conscious averting of his stare. You don’t know where he’s going with the conversation, but frankly, you don’t know where you are going with your answer either, as you shrug to him in a casual manner and peep under your breath.

“Yeah,” you say, “that was just… Jihoon’s friend from uni, I suppose,” you complete, and the sentence hints at nothing– it doesn’t clear out the confusion, it doesn’t outright say anything that could make Mark believe that it was just a casual hang-out with a friend, but still, you see the boy visibly relax as he nods to you and offers you a tight-lipped smile.

“Oh,” he hums, looking out of the window, past the profile of your face. The change in topic is sudden and sharp, but also welcome as he falls into a casual conversation with you, and suddenly, you’re reminded by the Mark you once knew– the guy you’ve once called not socially awkward, but so social that it’s awkward– as he talks to you about his day and rambles on about the weather. “It’s good that it won’t rain today, I bet the view will be nice.”

Locking your gaze with him for a brief second, you lick your lips and point your eyes towards the ground. It’s good that it won’t rain today, as opposed to last time you two went to the Bukhansan trail. You wonder if he remembers.

Before you have a chance to mention it– and in all reality, you won’t, no matter how bold you could be feeling at the moment– the train comes to a stop at your station and you hop out of the carriage, ready for the hike.

It’s easy to forget how messed up things have gotten between the two of you when you walk alongside with your ex boyfriend, laughing at his silly jokes and gasping at everything he shows to you with a pointed finger, finding yourself admiring the sound of his giggle when he spots a squirrel pass your path somewhere near the top of the hill. The trail is almost empty at this hour, since the two of you have decided to go in the late afternoon, and you find your soul to finally be at peace after so many weeks, you finally feel relaxed in the nature, one with the wind and the gentle sound of birds chirping lullying your running thoughts to a rest. 

You realize that this is just what you needed all this time. You needed to get out and walk for some while, to tune out yourself and to accept the fact that you’re still here, for another day, and something about that is still a blessing. Watching the back of Mark’s head as he walks a step in front of you due to the narrowness of the trail in this area, you smile to yourself. It’s easy to forget just how much you were hurt by him when he heals your soul with such a simple gesture. It’s easy to forget you were hurt when he seemingly tries to put all the broken pieces back together, glue them to where they were in the first place, when things were easier and you both didn’t have so many things to worry about. 

You reach the top just as the sun starts setting over the horizon, and there are only a few people scattered across the peak, sitting on their own picnic blankets and gazing into the distance. The hues of the sky paint the world in a different color, the oranges, pinks and muted purples playing with your heartstrings as you come to a halt and crouch down and feel the presence of another soul mirror your actions only a meter away to your right, his gaze glued to your side. The view is beautiful, but the feeling of being watched isn’t ignorable anymore, and so you turn to your companion and raise your eyebrows at him, wondering if he has something to say.

You don’t know how you’ll be able to come back to your life after this and pretend you still don’t want to spend every passing second with the man on your right. You don’t know how you’re supposed to ignore the ever so growing love for him– even though after being so disappointed with the past, the feelings should be decreasing, not doing the opposite– and frankly, you don’t even want to think of going back to the way it’s been for the past few months. And so you don’t– you allow yourself to indulge the moment, to ignore the pain that’s about to come, just so you could hold another beautiful memory to your heart and enjoy the moment before it hurts you to think of it tomorrow morning. 

“It’s even more beautiful than the last time,” Mark hums, but his eyes never leave your figure– if you were still dating, you bet he’d come out with a cheesy line about how you’re prettier than the view, or something. “It didn’t rain this time around, thank god.”

Gazing at him, you shake your head in disbelief. Scoffing, you play with the grass between your fingers. “You remember that?”

“Yeah,” he hums, “I remember a lot of things.”

The sentence makes you bitterly chuckle. He knows why you’re reacting the way you are– and you have every right to. He claims to remember a lot of things, but the ones important to you, the ones you wanted him to remember, he failed to save into his memory. And that’s eventually what made you break up with him, at the end of it all.

At your reaction, he sighs and drags a hand across his face, seemingly realizing the weight of his own words and just how ridiculous he must have sounded to you right now. 

“I- That-” he stutters, shaking his head, “that sounded stupid right now, considering… everything… Didn’t it?”

“Kind of,” you nod, not wanting to meet his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, voice suddenly raw and serious, so different to the tone he’s been using with you the whole afternoon, “I don’t- I can’t remember if I said that back then, when you- when you… broke up with me, but I really am sorry, Y/N. You didn’t deserve that, and I am in no way shape or form trying to make this about me, but I hate myself every day for the way things turned out and if I could go back to that day, I’d do so many things differently.”

The sky in front of you deepens in reds and you taste iron on your tongue, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you’ve managed to bite on your lip too hard in the midst of the conversation. Tearing out stems of grass with your clammy fingertips, you focus on the clouds running through the sky, calculating your next response.

“Okay,” you nod, not giving him much else. The answer perfectly encapsulates the way you feel on the inside right now– you don’t know if you’re ready to accept his apology, if you’re ready to let go of it and act like you weren’t hurt or that none of it ever happened, but you listened to him and you internalized his words. He is sorry. He knows he was in the wrong. And you were aware that he knew all of this before– hell, you’d even go as far as say he knew it the moment you knocked on his door that day and told him it was over– but hearing it from him surely moved something inside of you to a more comfortable place.

“I-” he starts, voice breaking making him clear his throat before he continues, “I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I shouldn’t have expected you to still be my friend after all of this, and that- I shouldn’t have even called you so many times and approached you at the store and stuff, but um-” he mumbles, shrugging to himself, “I guess I just couldn’t stay away from you. And again, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything, really. So… yeah…”

Snickering at his aimless monologue, you shake your head in disbelief. “Mark?”

“Yeah?” he stares at you, eyes a bottomless pool of emotion.

“Why did you invite me here today? What was the… point, I guess?” you ask, hugging your knees to your chest as the breeze makes goosebumps appear all over your body. 

Mark offers you a sad smile, head leaned to his right as he shrugs, and this time, his eyes don’t leave yours as he spills the truth into the air. “I guess I was just feeling selfish today,” he hums, and the sentence makes you cringe with the memory of his first call to you after your break up, “wanted to spend time with you.”

“Here, of all places?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “told you. I was feeling selfish.”

Snickering, you look away, staring at the sky again. The colors are starting to blend together into a deep, dark purple– the horizon darkening as the sun starts to say its final goodbyes to the day. You sigh to yourself, yet feel no bitterness or terror at his words. Somehow, you understand. Somehow, you get him a little too well. Somehow, you think you knew the moment he texted you today, and somehow, you think you felt it in your bones when you didn’t say no, although you could have. There’s calmness in your soul when you nod at the implication of his words, leaning back on your elbows and plopping your bottom to the ground, sitting at the dusty surface. 

“You said you didn’t expect anything out of me today, Mark.”

“And I don’t,” he says, voice soft. 

“And you brought me here to remind me of the last time we went?” you stare at him, a hint of a bitten-back smile playing with your lips. “Because you’re selfish?” 

He nods, not escaping your gaze. “To remind you of the last time we went. To show you that… I remember, I guess. And that I still care, just like the last time. If not more.”

“Mark, you can’t just say all of this and expect nothing out of me right now,” you mutter.

“Actually, I can. Because that’s what I’m doing. I’m just… laying it out in the open, and what you do with the information is completely, completely up to you,” he explains, and you find yourself chuckling at him, the atmosphere instantly lighter as you hear his voice in its usual casualness, talking to you as if he was just unpacking what went on in class today, and not the starting and the end of your one year relationship.

And he’s right. What you do with the information is completely up to you, and the next steps and the progress of your relationship with Mark Lee is also completely in your hands. You could turn away and never talk to him again, you could curse at him and tell him that it’s too late now and he missed his chance, but if that was the case, you wouldn’t be here in the first place. He wouldn’t be inviting you to this place, lying about his roommate canceling just to trick you into going, and you wouldn’t be blindly accepting the invitation, wanting to see where the afternoon brings you. 

“So you still care about me?” you hum, looking at him from under your eyelashes, noticing his slouched-over pose as he looks back at you over his shoulder.

“Always have,” he admits, “never stopped. Despite not really… acting like it in the past few months.”

“Why’d you stop acting like it, then?” you ask.

A sigh escapes his lips, his head turning forward before he leans back and sits cross-legged on the ground, more comfortably now. Shrugging, he answers the question. “I guess I just got too caught up with different things. And don’t get me wrong, you were always my priority, always, but I was all over the place with everything and my mind just couldn’t… there were too many things to keep up with and I couldn’t stay up to date with everything,” he says, “and I know it’s not an excuse, but it’s an explanation, and it doesn’t make it better or undo the pain I’ve caused you, but it’s… at least you know it was never because I’d care about you any less.”

His eyes bear into yours with such honesty you think the weight of the world will crash on you any minute, and suddenly, the whole situation seems so much clearer.

And you wouldn’t take it back, you wouldn’t undo the breakup or do anything differently, because at the end of the day, you think it was needed. Perhaps the time apart was what he needed as a wake up call and what you needed to shield yourself from hurting more. 

“Stop me from saying it if you… if you don’t want to hear it right now,” he hums, voice barely louder than a whisper. There seems to be a silent communication between the two of you, a connection of some sort that brings out the strange telepathy, but you just nod at him, a gentle smile playing with your lips as you understand exactly what he means, telling him that it’s okay and that you don’t mind– you welcome, you need to hear him say it again.

Licking his lips, he turns to you fully, facing you. There’s not a hint of nervousness in his body, having done this a lot of times before, and then it happens– the repeated confession, confirming what was there the whole time, never leaving even when the times were rough. 

“I love you,” he says.

And isn’t that all that’s needed? 

A year is a long time with someone. Somehow, you wouldn’t want the time to go to waste. At the end of the day, if love is still present, isn’t it worth trying? One more time?

“And you still don’t expect anything from me?” you ask, gazing at him softly. “You don’t expect me to say it back?”

“No,” he breathes out, shrugging. “I just needed to get it off my chest.”

“Because you’re selfish like that,” you nod, teasing him. 

“Because I’m selfish like that,” he agrees, breaking out into a slight grin.

Looking at the sky, now completely dipped in dark purple, you sigh to yourself at the turmoil of the conversation. You don’t say it back– although you feel it, you know it’s in there, playing with your heartstrings and clenching the muscle in the palm of its hand– you know love is there, deep inside, for the man that’s currently staring at you as if you hung the very stars appearing on the sky there yourself, stolen them from your own eyes and gluing them there selflessly, for everyone to see. You don’t tell him you love him back, you don’t tell him you forgive him or accept his apology. You don’t worry about what tomorrow will bring you, what your brain is going to tell you when you come down from the hill and get home, lay in your bed and overthink. You let the worries escape you, letting fondness and calm envelope you in a tight hug instead.

“Okay,” you nod, watching the boy next to you look at you with curious eyes. You take his hand into yours and place it on your thigh, playing with his fingers for a heartbeat before you meet his eyes again and smile. “I won’t say it back, but for all it’s worth, Mark… I’m glad you remembered.”

And that’s all he needs– there is love, there is fondness, and there is the silent confirmation that all you need right now is just a bit more time. 

Where do broken hearts go?

Somehow, you think they hold on to the place where it all started. Somehow, you think your heart never went anywhere– it stayed on this hill, waiting for you to pay it a visit and pick back up everything right from where you left it.

“It doesn’t seem like a good idea to go here today, Y/N,” Mark laughed behind you as he looked up to the sky, the dark clouds shielding the sun that had been previously shining down on your hiking figures, casting an orange glow on the strands of your hair. 

“Well, there’s no turning back now,” you shrugged, turning to him and grinning as you tugged on his hand, grip strong as you dragged the boy up the trail, your sneakers fast against the dirty ground. “We have finals starting next week and it’s gonna be too cold to go after the exam season is over, so we gotta go now.”

“I kind of regret telling you that I’ve never been here before now,” Mark sighed, but followed you nonetheless, breathlessly following your excited stride. It was October, the leaves on the trees were welcoming the two of you in shining colors, and the wind kissing your skin turned a bit chilly in the evenings– courtesy of the warm hoodie Mark shyly lended you when you shivered for the first time, adoring the way you, his friend, looked in the light gray fabric. Something about you wearing his clothes made the boy a bit hopeless about the day. Maybe he’ll have enough courage to confess his feelings to you, he thought. Maybe, despite the first raindrops falling on the skin of his bare arms, this evening will have a happy ending for you and him. 

“Oh, please,” you squinted at him, continuing to run up the hill– thank god it wasn’t that steep, serving both of you as the perfect hiking difficulty, “even if you wouldn’t have, I’d drag you here anyway. It’s like, my favorite place to go in Seoul, haven’t I told you before?”

You have, Mark thought. But he was okay with hearing it again. 

You squealed when the raindrops got heavier and the rain started pouring faster on the two of you, and Mark found himself laughing at your running figure. He was right behind you, praying that you don’t slip on one of the rocks and break your leg on the hiking trail, but he encouraged you with sweet comments and a hand on the small of your back as he watched the tip of the hill appear right in front of his very eyes, your body coming to a satisfied halt when you reached your destination.

“Tada!” you grinned at him, twirling a little like a ballerina, showing him the place with outstretched arms. He tried hard to observe the place, but his eyes stayed glued to your excited figure, gaze bearing into yours as you looked at him, amidst a little flustered, with sparkly orbs and a bright smile on your face. Your hair was a mess, his gray hoodie enveloping your body was slowly growing darker in color from absorbing the rain, and your sneakers were getting a bit muddy from walking around the place. He wanted to remember this moment forever, he thought– this version of you, the smiley expression on your face, the carefree and excited nature of your step. 

“Isn’t it beautiful?” you exclaimed, jumping around and nearing the boy, but as you went to take his hand to drag him around the top of the hill once more, your feet slipped and you fell forward, a surprised squeak battling its way out of your throat.

Your whole life flashed in front of your very eyes in that moment, embarrassment spreading down your neck at the fact that you were about to fall face first onto the ground in front of your crush of a few months, before your body collided with a soft, yet firm mass engulfing you closer. A pair of strong arms steadied you against his chest, and when you looked up at your friend, you swear all words were taken out of your dictionary, the sight leaving you speechless.

“It is,” he gaped, eyes bearing into yours. Mark was agreeing with you, but something in the back of your head was telling you that he didn’t really admire this place as much as you did– his curious gaze was always plastered somewhere completely else. 

That place being your face, of course. And your eyes, your cheeks, the mess of your bangs, and occasionally– screw that, almost always– your lips. Much like in that moment, a few centimeters away from his face, so inviting he thought it would be a crime to contain the urge. 

And so he didn’t– he didn’t control his feelings and the ever-so growing yearning for you, as he silently leaned towards your face and captured his lips with yours in a firm, yet short kiss.

He looked at you with a nervous tint behind his gaze when he leaned away, the sight of your wide eyes staring at him making a slight flush grow on his cheeks. You looked so beautiful in that moment– flustered, surprised, with messy hair and lips still apart– and he was relieved to not find a hint of a displeased emotion in your expression. 

“Okay, so- well-” you stuttered, laughing to yourself, “this didn’t go as I planned, but I guess I’m happy as long as the final result is the same,” you hummed, standing on your tippy-toes and pressing your lips against him once more, this time letting yourself enjoy the moment fully, mouth moving against his in a careful, yet excited rhythm. He tasted like the strawberry candy you offered him on the bottom of the trail and smelled a bit like rain, the mixture always staying in the depths of your mind as his warmth enveloped you in comfort and a feeling of home.

“The final result being…?” he asked when you pulled apart once again, a dazed expression overtaking his sharp features.

“Us,” you shrugged, “like this,” you clarified.

Mark laughed at that, hugging you closer to his chest. You rested your head on his shoulder, listening to the sound of raindrops washing away the top layer of dirt off the rocks on the tip of the hill, hands sneaking around his waist and enjoying the way they wrapped around him so tightly and so comfortably. You in his hoodie, in your favorite place, standing in his arms. It was raining, but it didn’t matter.

“Mark?” 

“Hm?” 

“If we ever get lost, or something happens… bring me back here, okay?” you mumbled close to his ear, lips gently glazing the skin of his ear, making goosebumps appear all over your new lover. “I’m convinced that this place could fix everything.”

“Even us?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not allowed to ever leave me now, what would there be to fix between us?” you smacked his shoulder, snickering to yourself.

“You never know,” he laughed, “what if I accidentally mess up somewhere along the way?” he asked, threading his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the wet mess.

“Okay then,” you hummed, “even us.”

Staring into your eyes, letting the moment play out by itself, Mark swore he’s never felt more at peace. He wondered if it was the effect of the place, the rain, or just your sheer presence.  “I’ll remember that,” he giggled before he let go of your body, petting your head as he took a hold of your hand, tugging you down from where you came from, “now let’s go home before we catch a cold.”

Nodding, following the man as you both carefully, yet fastly made it down the trail, you enjoyed the way his hand fit into yours and the way you knew that after this, you can’t ever come back to being friends with Mark Lee. He was all yours, completely, utterly yours, and you knew in the back of your head, that you were his– and nothing will ever change that.

You would always come back to the hill with him. It felt ridiculous to think about you two ever having to fix anything between the two of you back then, but even in that moment, you knew that for him, you’d keep trying. As long as he does– as long as he remembers.

Where do broken hearts go? You guess they always come right back to the place they come from– and they leave glued back together every single time.

You guess your heart never really left the hill.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

A Night Forgotten

Part Five.

“I—I’m sorry?”

Emoni was baffled by what Dove had casually asked.

“You heard exactly what I said, Emoni. You choose to hear what you want to hear.” Dove says, leaning over the bar with a playful expression, “Ten years is a very long time. Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to become his Princess? I can see it. Feel it actually.”

Emoni suddenly felt compelled to drink, taking a sip and feeling lifted. She instantly felt comfortable enough to talk to Dove. She felt an overwhelming urge to dump all of her pent up feelings and frustrations onto this beautiful stranger. As if a weight had been lifted off of her, she exhaled and started shaking with nerves.

“I…I want him so bad that it hurts…”

Dove simply stared at Emoni intensely, as if putting her under a spell.

“…I see him with another woman and it breaks my fucking heart but it’s also so hard for me because he’s such a womanizer and how can I trust him? He’s a Prince, a boss, he’s crazy hot, smart, funny—”

“Emoni, breathe…”

She took a deep breath in, and blew it out.

“You’re afraid he’ll do to you what your ex did.”

“Exactly,” Emoni exhaled a shaky breath, “But there’s also this part of me that wants him to beg for it. Get down on his knees and beg me to be with him…”

“Hmm. Well, you’ll get that sooner than you think. I can feel it. Let’s say…in less than an hour…”

Emoni scuffed, “yeah, I highly doubt that.”

She finishes off her drink, giving a surprised hum at how pleasant it tastes…and how light it makes her feel by the time she hits the bottom of the glass.

“Another?” Dove took her empty glass from her hands eagerly.

“Hell yeah, keep them coming! I want to be so pleasantly intoxicated with a fine ass man drilling me into the mattress—woah.”

Dove giggled while Emoni tried to fathom where that came from. Her inner thoughts became outward. Dove slid another drink in front of her and like a magnet, Emoni started drinking. Somehow, this round it was slightly stronger.

“Take your time with it, maybe Erik might want some…”

Dove touched Emoni’s hand delicately. Emoni looked up at her gorgeous face in a trance-like state, focused and relaxed, while still being aware of her surroundings. Her irises became a bright pink color with her heightened concentration. She felt as if she were in a distorted sense of time, everyone and everything around her moving in slow motion. Although she didn’t have any control over her body and emotions, she was in a pleasant state.

“By the powers I am wielding, I tap into your loving feeling. To fix your broken heart, I tap into that initial spark. Glue together your heart that’s broken, with these words being spoken. With this spell I now decree, as I will it so shall it be…”

Dove lifted her soft yet powerful hand from Emoni’s and slipped away. After five seconds, Emoni came back to, blinking her eyes rapidly. Her chocolate brown eyes fell to her cup and she faintly remembered Dove making her a new drink. Slightly shrugging her shoulders, she brought the martini to her lips and took a sip.

“Emoni.”

Back stiffening from an unwanted touch, Emoni turned and came face to face with her ex. Exhausted, she stepped to the side to walk away, but he stopped her again.

“Be honest with me, Emoni,” Troy says, eyeing the lovely woman in front of him with something akin to lust. He’s drinking something purple out of a martini glass, chewing on its blackberry and strawberry garnish. “Are you avoiding me because you miss me?”

“Miss you? Nigga, why would I even bother.”

Emoni turned her back to him. Troy grabbed her arm again and Emoni almost snapped her neck with the way she looked back at him.

“Troy, get your hand off my arm. Not once have I given you a sign that I wanted you back in any way. What we had was a mistake. I refuse to make the same mistake twice. Play with some other bitch, I’m not the one—”

His smug, handsome face with tawny skin frowned.

“We both know who you belong to. Stop acting all bold off that drink and be honest with yourself.”

“I think that purple shit in your glass is making you confused. I belong to no one. And I’m being so honest it’s not even funny.” Emoni quipped with a vengeful look in her eyes.

“Baby, everything okay over here?”

The sound of his voice activated something inside of her. Her breath hitched and her stomach did flips. The Golden Jaguar and Prince of Wakanda approached them with his usual gait and royal aura. Troy’s hand slowly released Emoni’s arm and he glared at Erik.

“Why the fuck are you touching my woman?”

Erik pushed up on Troy, his chest puffed out and his head tilted in a threatening manner. His obsidian eyes were slightly squinting as he sized Troy up with an unwavering stare.

“She tell you not to touch her, right? And she told you to leave her alone. Don’t make me rough you up in front of all these good people, Troy. Take yo’ ass back over there.”

Troy glowered at Erik, the grip on his glass almost shattering it. Erik’s eyes widened a fraction, pressing up on Troy again. He was giving him a silent warning. Emoni’s heart almost sank to her stomach. She knows Erik’s temper. He’s nothing to fuck with.

“Erik,” Emoni placed a gentle hand on his bicep. Her fingertips tingled from the feeling of his muscles through his tux jacket, “It’s okay. Troy was just leaving, right?”

Erik’s right brow ticked up. Troy snorted, shaking his head before walking away. As he walked, he would look back at Erik over his shoulder with a death glare. Erik held his gaze, a menacing smirk on his handsome face. Emoni squeezed Erik’s bicep, drawing his attention back down to her.

“Thank you for that. You didn’t have to step in and help me get rid of him. I appreciate it.”

Erik’s face softened and he chuckled, “Anything for you, Moni. I’ve been itching to say something to that nigga ever since he showed up and kept bothering you. It won’t happen anymore.”

Emoni realized that her hand hadn’t left Erik’s arm. He looked from her small hand to her face with a slight crease in his brow and a hint of a smile.

“What’s in that drink of yours, pretty mama? Because that hand hasn’t left my arm. Hmmm…”

He takes the drink from her hand once more, downs what's left of it from the side where her lipgloss mark rests, and hands her back the empty glass. He licks his lips a few times, as if he really enjoyed her drink.

“I wasn’t finished drinking that!” She argued.

“I’ll get you a new one, Emoni. Can’t help it that I want what you’ve got…”

Erik leaned over her, causing Emoni to tilt back against the bar. The major height difference between them with Erik being 6’5 made her feel helpless and horny at the same time. Speaking of horny, whatever was in that drink shot straight to her erogenous zones. It must have for Erik too, because Emoni could have sworn she saw the faintest glow of magenta in his onyx orbs. He stared down at Emoni with a primal look in his eyes like he wanted to push every glass off of the surface of the bar, lay her on her back, and eat her until her legs were shaking.

Emoni couldn’t explain what had shifted within her, but Erik’s offer was starting to look pretty damn good. across the room, Brent is dancing with two women. Everyone else seems paired off now, and from where Emoni stands at the bar, she makes the conscious decision to go home with Erik Stevens.

Wow, Dove has definitely outdone herself this time! In fact, the drink's unique flavours complimented everything else she's had so far, almost as if each martini has been a lead-in to the next, and the next, until it has culminated in this one. Her whole body tingles, flushes hot with anticipation as she tilted the glass. It slid down her throat, cool and smooth, heating her belly and warming her blood.

Imagine how it would feel for Erik’s dick to slide down your throat and reward you with a creamy treat.

Jittery with nerves and intoxicated from the smell of Erik’s cologne and those delicious drinks, Emoni contemplates joining the crowd out on the dance floor to hail in the married couple who will be joining them at any moment. The alcohol is really flooding through her now, loosening her rigid control just enough.

Suddenly, Erik tilts her chin up to look at him.

“We're dancing,” he tells her without fanfare.

With a tilt of his head, he grabbed her wrist, yanking her into his arms. The hand holding hers is firm, the footsteps guiding them sure. Everything about her partner seems confident and at ease, but there is a look in his eye she knows well, having seen it in the mirror more than her fair share of times over the years, especially before she's about to go to bed with someone. He's nervous, anxious for this to mean more than it should.

In truth, so is she.

Yet there's something to be said about physically dancing with a man you've verbally, mentally, and emotionally crossed swords with on more than one occasion. As there is with their trading insults, there's a natural choreography to their movements around each other, an instinctive knowledge of push and pull to their rhythm. It is easy being in his arms, she discovers, twirled around like a debutante at her first ball by a handsome beau.

Daniel Caesar–Who Hurt You? Is playing.

It's seductive.

With slight pressure on the sway of her spine, he pulled her pelvis into his, their thighs cradling each other's as they swayed back and forth. He pulled their joined hands in, resting her right fingers over his heart so she could feel it beating, and pressed his nose into her hairline, inhaling deeply, exhaling with a sigh of pleasure at her rose-cinnamon-cardamom scent.

Strange new addictions picked up on the road

Changed my opinions and changed up my flows

Changed my approach, no more lovin' these hoes

And when it rains it pours, hey

You make me feel

So primal and

That's what I am

I'm just a man

“I love the way you smell,” he whispered into her ear during the small lull between refrain and chorus.

She buried her nose into his collar. “You, too,” she admitted, rubbing their cheeks together.

Take that pussy, drop it in my lap

I love it when you move like that

Now turn around and throw it back

It back, it back

“Do you like this? Dancing with me?” he asked.

Emoni nodded, her hand on his shoulder curving up and around his neck to find a home right at the back of his hairline, where he loved to be touched. “Very much.”

He kissed her temple. "Good."

That caused her breath to hitch. Not even an hour ago would she find herself letting Erik kiss her. At least now he knew they would do this again after tonight... if he could convince her to date him.

The DJ changed the music over with another smooth transition. A trance-like, slow R&B beat harmonized with piano and guitar, and this time, he moved the way he wanted to make love to her, his hands pressed on her hips, grinding against her sultrily. He pressed soft kisses all along the shell of her right ear, flicking the small gold earring – a heart with a butterfly – in passing as his lips traveled lower.

When you feel it in your body you found somebody who

Makes you change your ways like hanging with your crew

Said you act like you're ready but you don't really know

And everything in your past, you wanna let it go

He ran his mouth over her pulse, letting his right hand skim around her back and up over her spine to tangle in her soft curls, pulling back gently to open her up for him…

I've been there, done it, humped around, ha

After all that this is what I found

Nobody wants to be alone

If you're touched by the words in this song

Then maybe

You got it, you got it bad

When you're on the phone

Hang up and you call right back (oh, you)

You got it, you got it bad

If you miss a day without your friend, your whole life's off track…

Suckling upon her throat, he wrapped her in his embrace, letting his other relearn the curvature of her ass. He envisioned his fingers traveling over the outline of her panties, and then through the center.

In his arms, Emoni shivered. The hand stationary over his heart moved then to join its twin at the back of his hair, and with a low, sexy moan, she pulled him closer. They were definitely causing a scene. Emoni could feel eyes on her, causing her to pull away. Erik chuckles, the sound shooting straight to her wet, quivering pussy.

“The bride is about to appear soon to toss the bouquet,” Emoni murmurs the reminder, aware of the others all around them and how the level of excitement in the room has ratcheted up as the seconds count down, “It's strange, but I just realized… I've never stayed this long at one of these events to see what happens next. I mean…I’ve seen it in movies but…”

With a matching incredulous expression, her partner admits, “Me either, actually.”

That sends them equally into a bout of snickering and chuckling.

“A first for both of us, it seems.”

He flashes a grin that's as white as snow, “One of many together, I'm sure.”

His words make things inside her flutter.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say this but…you look really nice. The whole mask thing suits you.” she blurts out. "It’s fitting.”

He whirls her around faster and laughs as her grip on him tightens. “Why, Daniels, are you finally admitting that I'm devilishly handsome?”

No need to deny it.

She shrugs with a roll of her eyes, “You know you are.”

“Yes, but you've never said it,” he teases. “You're a notorious hold-out when it comes to me.”

There's a double-entendre in there, and she feels its meaning and intent to her toes when he turns the full force of his obsidian-eyed gaze upon her.

“Perhaps if you actually were more sweet, and less wicked I might be inclined to stroke your ego more often,” she tosses back with a sultry grin, blaming Dove’s alcoholic genius for such sassiness.

Erik’s gaze heats as he lowers his mouth to her ear. “I can be equal parts nice to naughty, love. Care to find out?”

Ooh, FUCK, would she love to! She’d wanted so many moments with him. A small voice in her head echoed for her to just give in to her desires and feel.

“…I suppose I should have an escort back to my hotel tonight,” she agrees with a thoughtful air, pretending to misunderstand. “I’m staying at The Luxor…it’s known for being pretty haunted there…the most haunted out of all the hotels in Sin City. Might be too dangerous to go alone.”

“Mmm, safety first,” he agrees, lips twitching with amusement.

They pause as the music switches and the beautiful bride walks forward with her bouquet. The rest of the room clears the center of the ballroom, making a space as Beyoncé–Single Ladies plays.

“ALLRIGHT LADIES! LETS GET TO THE DANCE FLOOR!”

Emoni finds a spot amongst the crowd of eager women. She endures being shoved and bumped into, her eyes glued to her friend and bride twirling in a circle with the bouquet of roses swaying in her hand.

Now put your hands up!

The bouquet was thrown back and something in Emoni told her to leap for it like she was playing football. She threw herself forward and at the last second she grasped the bouquet, falling flat on her stomach clumsily. The room erupted with applause and laughter. Instantly, the women rushed over to help her up. Emoni was too stunned and excited to care about falling in front of over a hundred people.

“I caught it! I caught it!” She squealed.

“ALL RIGHT LADIES! TIME FOR THE MEN!”

Michael Jackson–P.Y.T had the room grooving.

The men two-stepped to the floor, and Emoni was happy with the amount of attractive, eligible men stepped up. Of course, Erik stood out to her. She caught his eye and became bashful when he winked at her. Not even Troy trying to win her back was enough to get her attention. The groom was too busy lip syncing and snapping his fingers while twirling the garter around his finger. It took for the bride to snap him out of it before he tossed the garter high in the air.

What happened next shocked everyone. Erik did an impressive parkour roll and caught the garter in his hand before it even touched the floor. The other men behind him had to stop themselves from tumbling over on top of Erik with how fast they moved. While the others looked uncoordinated, Erik stood tall and proud, his eyes never leaving Emoni’s. The bride shared a look with her and then she giggled.

“TIME TO PUT THAT GARTER ON!”

Emoni was pushed towards a chair strategically placed in the center of the dance floor. She flopped down and someone took the bouquet from her hands. She couldn’t contain her nerves. He was going to slip the garter up her leg. She was afraid that his touch on one of her most sensitive areas would trigger the inner slut in her. She chewed on her bottom lip and twirled a curl as Erik took his place before her. They locked eyes, and the connection was so strong she could vividly see him struggling just as much as her.

I'm just a bachelor

I'm looking for a partner

Someone who knows how to ride

Without even falling off

Gotta be compatible

Takes me to my limits

Girl, when I break you off

I promise that you won't want to get off

If you're horny, let's do it

Ride it, my pony

My saddle's waitin'

Come and jump on it

Standing before her without shame, Erik placed his hands on the back of his head, rolling his hips, closing his eyes, and biting his bottom lip at the same moment. The action caused his chest to thrust forwards. Emoni covered her mouth in shock and the noise around them from everyone cheering them on almost drowned out the music.

It was hard to keep her heart from tearing through her skin, especially as his tux jacket came off and his soft, cotton shirt slowly crawled over his solid abs, pecs, and arms. She could only imagine how that body looked beneath those clothes. her breathing kicked into high gear. The bulge in his slacks was definitely hard, begging to be suckled. Her nails bit into the edge of the chair as she clenched her hands to keep her body grounded in place.

With an assured saunter, he closed the distance between them. Stopping less than a foot away, his pelvis level with her face, he slid those thick fingers of his over his smoothed abdomen just as the vocals of the song sang a rather provocative tune…

If we're gonna get nasty, baby

First we'll show and tell

'Til I reach your ponytail

Lurk all over and through you baby

Until we reach your stream

You'll be on my jockey team

He got down on his knees slowly, his eyes still connected with hers. He skillfully brought her leg up so that her ankle dangled over his shoulder. Hooting and hollering along with clapping surrounded them but all of it was white noise. It felt like it was just the two of them. Erik pressed his nose into her ankle, inhaling her scent before taking her heeled foot, pressing it against his solid chest. He took his time placing the garter over her foot and up her leg.

She'd never been so turned on in her life!

His hands disappeared beneath her dress and she almost moaned. Meanwhile, Dove watched from the bar with a sly smile.

Emoni watched with a fixated fascination the expressions crossing his face as he secured the garter around her thigh and inches away from her pussy. She just knew he could feel the heat radiating from between her legs with how turned on she is. Erik was enraptured by her, enslaved to her whim, freely expressing his pleasure with parted lips, heaving chest and bucking muscles.

“Spend the rest of the day with me,” he begged. “I need you.”

Dove did say he would be on his knees begging within an hour.

[ahhnini]

better things - cheater!ex! rafe cameron x reader one shot

part two / part three

synopsis - after rafe cheats on you, he wants a second chance. unfortunately for him, you’re onto better things now

warnings - rafe is lowkey an asshole here, arguing, cheating ( i don’t condone it!! )

word count - 1.2k

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

ask box is open!

tbh i love when my interests mix so here’s some aespa with a fic lol

divider credits - aqualogia on tumblr

initially, you had a rough time after the breakup with rafe. tissues from crying were littered all over your room, you ghosted your friends, and you’re pretty sure you sold out the ice cream from the local grocery store.

turns out, he had cheated. you should’ve known something was up when his text responses became dry, didn’t want to go out in public for dates, and was always on his phone.

when you received the text from him saying, “I need to talk to you,” you panicked. your text response however, remained calm. you both met up, he confessed he cheated on you and wanted to break things off. you tried your best keeping a poker face but he knew you too well, knowing you were about to break down. he then had the audacity to give you “one final hug” before speeding off on his bike, leaving you wallowing in your tears. he never even apologized.

now, here you are, sunbathing with a couple of your friends. it’s a small island, so you occasionally see rafe with his new girlfriend, sofia. or was it sofie? you honestly can’t remember, and that was good. you’ve moved on, healed, realized that you were only with rafe because he saw you at your weakest.

as you watch your friends go in the water to cool off from the heat, you notice a familiar blond boy walking along the beach, alone. you take a glance and lay down on your beach towel again, not paying attention to him. until he calls out your name.

you sit up, and rafe stands over you. you want to see if you can ignore him, so you just wave him off, but you hear him scoff. it was awkward, of course, your ex was standing right in front of of you after almost a year of no contact. you decide to speak up, breaking the silence, “yeah?” and he bluntly says “we…broke up,” your eyebrows furrow. “okay? what does that have to do with me?” you respond. he sighs, “can we talk in private?” “alright, make it quick”

you both walk to a more secluded area, and he begins speaking, “we broke up because of you,” he sighs. “because of me? what part do I play in your relationship?” you cross your arms, scoffing. “sofia thought I was still hung up on you, and she was right, I was,” he looks at you, there’s shame in his eyes, and guilt in his words. you couldn’t believe what he was saying. he continued, “listen, I know I cheated on you, it was a shitty thing for me to do. my head wasn’t right, and…I took you for granted.”

you roll your eyes and scoff again, “yeah, you did take me for granted rafe…you knew how much I loved you, you knew how much I cherished our relationship…for you to throw that away-” he interrupts, “I know, and i’m willing to give it another shot. if you would just let me-” it was now your turn to interrupt, “excuse me? do you know how ridiculous you sound right now? you were the one who broke my heart in the first place, and now you’re crawling back to me? i’m sorry rafe, I won’t ever get back with you. never in a million years.” he sighed, defeated.

he hated seeing you like this, so happy. after that day on the beach, he tried to talk to you again via text. and again, and again, and again, until you finally hit the block button on his contact.

your paths crossed again at the wreck, you were talking with someone, a new friend perhaps. you were smiling and giggling as you ate one of your fries. of course he noticed you first, and his heart leaped. he wanted to come up to you and strike a conversation again, but he knew he would just get shut out by you once more. he wanted to get out of the restaurant as soon as possible, so he ordered and anxiously tapped his foot while mr. carrera fulfilled his order. as soon as his number was announced, he took the bag of food and rushed to his car, not caring that he was being stared at.

it hurt his pride, of course. he knows he shouldn’t be reacting this way, he has no right to be acting this way. but god, did he miss you. he missed the way he basically had you wrapped around your finger, you were so willing to drop everything for him at the snap of his fingers. sofia wasn't the same. she set him straight, didn't enable his behavior, and he hated that. rafe always got things his way, he couldn't control sofia the way he controlled you.

word gets around fast in kildare country. it didn't take long for rafe to find out that you have someone new. he quickly came to terms that you've finally moved on. however, he wasn't prepared to see you and your new boyfriend in person so soon.

you were living your best life, your skin was glowing, and you had the best boyfriend in the world, jason. he was the juxtaposition of rafe, a breath of fresh air. you two were having brunch at the country club, watching some of the members out on the field, playing golf or also having a nice meal. as you take another bite out of your avocado toast, you see a familiar trio walk in. you really wish this island wasn't so small so you wouldn't see him that often. it annoyed you more than it bothered you. you put your toast down on the plate, then spoke to your boyfriend, "i'm gonna use the restroom," he nodded his head. you stood up from your chair and went inside the building.

while on your way to the restroom, you ran into rafe. it had been six months after you blocked him, and you resisted rolling your eyes when he waved and smiled at you. he started walking towards you, and you hoped he knew how much of a stupid decision he was making. probably not, you thought. he was now across you, and you hear him speak up, "how are you?" "fine," you say, dryly. "heard some things goin' around town." rafe says, trying to keep the conversation going. "yeah, I have a new boyfriend," your voice is monotone. "oh, does he treat you better than me?" he asks. you roll your eyes and try your best to not just walk away from the conversation.

"yes, he does, rafe. why haven't you moved on?" your voice was slightly raised, and he sighs, "you know why I haven't moved on. I need you, y/n. please-" "rafe. i've moved on. you should too." you start walking away to the restroom, and he looks at you, defeated. you knew your worth, and you knew you deserved someone better than rafe.

he took one last glance at you before going back to topper and kelce. he sighed as your words hung over him. you moved onto better things now.

[junislqve]

⟡ stay in my memories

when you had finally started to accept your past, it comes back to haunt you

pairs ex!jake + reader content angst kissing jake being toxic wordcount 1404 — find my other works

note ending is highkey rushed and was supposed to be happy, but this is self indulgent, so! i also listened to memories an ungodly amount while writing this

YOU HUFFED AS YOUR DOORBELL RANG FOR THE SECOND TIME. it was 11pm. a few minutes ago, your friend had just left after picking up her cat from the week-long vacation she had with her boyfriend. you had sensed she’d forgotten something.

when it rang once more, you begrudgingly stood up dragging your legs to the front door. the lights to your small living room was already off save for one that was only enough to illuminate the front door.

you sigh as the door click open, “you really need to stop forget-” 

“hi, babyy” 

your heart dropped. not because of how the man in front of you accidentally stumbled and now practically has his boy weight supported by you, and also somehow not because of how his hands circle your body and rest on your waist like how it used to.

it was his voice that did. 

his voice that you swore on everything you would never want to hear again. hating how it sounded so much you’d bail on any man that sounded similar to him or had his accent.

how could you not when only a few simple words uttered with that voice had your mind reeling? repeating the same heart wrenching sentence in your head over and over again, it engraved itself.

it was pouring outside. you’ve been very stuffed with schoolwork and your finals coming up. papers spread out everywhere on your table and books scattered on your bedsides and floor. 

you felt a tickle on your ankle and watched as your dog rubbed its side on your body, begging for attention. you chuckle, dropping your pen and bending down to pick her up. sitting her on your lap as you rubbed its back. 

“i’m sorry, i just need to finish this paper and i’ll promise i’ll give you some attention, okay?” you coo at her, it hung her head low but complied, laying her head on your lap. 

a moment later, your phone lit up. you stared at the caller and with no hesitation immediately picked it up, a smile growing on your face, “hi, babe-”

“let’s break up”

you stopped. the pouring rain seemed to have hushed in a matter of seconds, the air around you felt constricted. your dog stayed silent, looking up at you in confusion.

“what?” 

“it’s just going to be hard keeping up our relationship in the long run. i’m graduating and you still have two years” 

“so?”

“so i don’t want to hold each other back” he sounded frustrated. 

“so that’s it?” you ask, voice heavy. “you’re going to leave me because you don’t want to wait two years for me?”

“you’re twisting my words”

“that’s exactly what you said, jake” 

“i’m sorry”

no he’s not. 

“no, you’re not” you say, you wait for a second too long before hanging up. you damn well know he’s not, because if he was you wouldn’t be crying as hard as you are right now. your chest wouldn’t have felt as painful as it does.

there was nothing but confusion that clouded your mind the following days. you were trying to reason with yourself why he’d ever break up with you. 

your boyfriend is the sweetest yet most comforting guy you’ve ever known. or at least, was. you thought there must be something wrong with you.

everything reminded you of him. back then, you thought you hit the lottery when he landed as your first love as well as your first boyfriend. you never doubted your relationship, he was always there for you whenever you needed him and you never turned him down if he needed a shoulder. 

every waking moment after the breakup felt plain to you. habits and hobbies turned more of a chore, some of the things you did were picked up from his habits.

you were quiet about your breakup. it took a total of 13 days until anyone found out. your friends having to fish it out of you when they felt how quiet and more zoned out you’ve become.

for three months, jake’s name was not allowed to be uttered. it was a rule your friend made. she knew anything correlated to him could tip you off, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. 

she didn’t know that you’d still visit his old album from time to time just to feel something. to remember all the ways he loved you and all the ways he wasn’t there to, anymore.

you can’t let go the feeling of how he would hug you, all the times he would kiss you giggles filling out every corner of the room. the moments he’d lay on the bed with you, whispering sweet nothings lulling you to sleep.

you still can feel all of that, a ghost of the past you were never willing to let go.

you wished time could heal all of you completely. because now when you swore you have finally started to move on, he has his body slumped on yours, breath fanning your neck.

“jake?” you curse yourself from how quiet it came out. your voice wavering, your breath shallow before you slowly walk in, his body still slumped on yours.

he hummed, “i missed you” he dug his head deeper into your neck, making you physically sick.

you tug him off, stabling him by his shoulders and you wished you didn’t. you could see his state now. his hair was all messed up, face tinted red from drinking and he had that pout. his eyes attempting to blink itself awake as he looks at you through sleepy eyes.

“jake” you say again, finding your voice. that pout of his grew at your tone.

“don’t you miss me?” he asks, voice so soft you almost gave in. his hands still hover on your waist and you’d lie if you said you weren’t fully aware of it. 

“i’ll grab you some water” you say, walking out of his reach. the heat from his body slowly seeping away as you walk to grab a glass of water.

you turn back to see him sat on the couch, his head laying on the arm rest, legs sprawled sideways. tapping him on the shoulder, his eyes crease open along with that smile of his. your heart clenched.

he grabs the cup and downs it in one gulp, “thank you” he says quietly.

when you were about to grab it and walk back to the kitchen, jake had tugged your shirt causing you to topple on top of him on the couch. 

“you haven’t said you missed me back” he said, head buried in your hair, breathing you in. 

you gathered all of you to push against him and stand up, “jake, stop”

“i know you’re sober”

it barely showed, but you could see the slight waver of his smile.

“i miss you” he says for the third time tonight, eyes open but still slightly glazed.

“you’re being selfish” tears start to well up. it’s overwhelming to say the least. how could he just show up at your doorstep months later giving you false hope? after everything he’s made you go through.

“i know” he starts, sitting up slightly, “and i know i have no right to come back here begging for you to come back. but i miss you”

“you should leave” you look away.

“please”

“jake”

“i’m sorry” he says, “but i’ll do better this time”

maybe it was those eyes that convinced you, or the sliver of sincerity you pretended to see in his eyes or maybe once again it was that voice that allured you. but you gave in. 

he brought you in for a kiss. one that you’ve undoubtedly miss all these months of being apart. jake just knew how to bring you back into his arms. he held you all night long and between the kiss and the cuddling, you dozed into a sleep you haven’t felt for months.

you shifted, you peek at the light hitting your eyes from the slip of the curtains. 

you rolled over, the space beside you, cold. 

you sat up, the blanket falling off your body as you looked around the living room. trying to grasp at the hazy memory of last night.

the table in front of the couch is neat. when your eyes focused there was a scrap of paper placed on it.

‘i don’t deserve you, i’m sorry

-love, j’

© junislqve 2024. liking, commenting, and rebloging are appreciated.

[its-time-to-write]

how about a Jamie x reader fic when they go away to Amsterdam they sit together on bus and they wake up cuddling and then there’s an issue w hotel booking and there’s a one bed trope and they end up waking up cuddled together and then they admit feelings and reader goes to game with a tartt jersey on <3

I’ve been thinking about this forever, and I’m terribly sorry it took so long!! I do enjoy being an adult, but I’m at a point in life where I don’t have much free time and if I do, I use it to sleep😂

I really miss the days when Ted Lasso was still airing and the x reader tags had new content every day. I feel like that one meme of Thanos when he’s like “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” Shoutout to all y’all who are still here and reading my stuff! Love you!!

smile at me

It’s straight-up fucked. It really, really is. But also maybe it’s good, as Keeley pointed out, because not having a boyfriend anymore means you can focus on yourself?

Or something. 

Of course he had to break up with you right before leaving for Amsterdam. Hell, he broke up with you because you were leaving for Amsterdam. 

“I don’t want you going to another country with a bunch of other guys,” he had said. “It’s them or me.”

“It’s literally my job,” you told him. 

Apparently, that didn’t matter. 

But what-fucking-ever, you’re at Keeley’s waiting for a car to take you to the airport, and she’s promised to make sure you don’t think about your stupid ex even once. 

It’s times like these you wish Ted were still here with a spot-on pun and some dad-type advice. All you ever get from Beard is a weird anecdote and a vaguely threatening look. 

Keeley chatters on for the entirety of the ride to the airport, through customs, and all the way to the lounge. 

“You’re gonna get loads of great content for the socials, babe. Candids, action shots, behind-the-scenes. Friendlies are fucking amazing!”

Last time Richmond were in Amsterdam, they had lost horribly. They’re hoping to make up for it this time around. 

The plane is full of Greyhounds, both footballers and coaches alike, with Rebecca at the very front. Keeley plops done in the seat next to her as Dani waves at you from the middle. 

“I saved you a seat!” he calls. You smile as Sam takes your bag to put it in the overhead. “Thanks, Dani. You excited?”

Dani grins. “I think this time I am ready to see a whole field of tulips!”

You laugh as the lads roll their eyes. Jamie leans across the aisle toward you and says, “Oi, what’s the twat doing while you’re away?” 

You press your lips into a thin line. “Not a clue.”

He raises an eyebrow and says, “You break up with him?”

“He broke up with me.”

Jamie twists his face into a scoff. “And you wonder why I call him the fucking twat. Prick. Bet it was so he could finally fuck his coworker.”

You shrug. Jamie’s never liked your boyfriend. It’s not like you were together long, only a few months. And sure, he was a little bit of a twat, but sue you. You had a special place in your heart for pricks with a heart of gold, only he didn’t even have a heart at all. 

“You should date someone better,” Jamie continues. 

You glare at him and retort, “Oh yeah, because it’s just that easy. You got some one in mind?”

Jamie gives you his most angelic look and says, “What about me?” which makes half the plane dissolve into laughter, yourself included. 

“Cheers, Jamie,” you say as you wipe your eyes. “I needed that.”

A strange look crosses his face, but it’s quickly replaced by his usual cocky expression. “Anytime, love,” he replies as you turn to start a conversation with Dani. 

As much as you’d like that, Jamie would never date you. His joke stings a little but you brush it off. Maybe you’ll find another twat in Amsterdam to distract yourself from the fact that you’re half in love with Jamie Tartt.

—

“I’m sorry, we don’t have a booking under you name,” the hotel concierge says.

You tap your nails to your wrist. “Are you positive? I’m with AFC Richmond, they should’ve had one.”

The concierge taps on his computer for a moment before shaking his head. “No, I’m afraid we don’t have anything. And all of our rooms are booked this weekend. Might I recommend the hotel down the road?”

Damn it. There’s no way this is happening. Everyone else has gotten to their rooms without a hitch and here you are, alone in the lobby as you pull out your phone to call Keeley. There’s no way this is fucking happening. 

“Everything alright?” asks a voice behind you, and you jump. 

“They don’t have a room for me, and they’re fully booked,” you explain. 

Jamie looks at the concierge, who shrugs apologetically, then back to you. He asks, “Why don’t you share with me?” and you frown. 

“I thought you were rooming with Declan,” you say. 

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “Yeah, but he switched with Richard because O’Brien fucking snores and he don’t give a shit.”

You say, “So you’re with Richard, then,” and he shakes his head. 

“Nah, Richard’s with Jan.”

“I thought Dani was with Jan,” you say. These fucking footballers. What’s the point in having set rooms if they’re just going to switch it all up.

“Dani is with Jan,” Jamie says patiently, as if this all the most obvious thing in the world. “But Dani’s a cuddler, so he’s probably going to fucking end up with, I don’t know, Isaac or someone. Which means I get a room all to meself.”

“Right,” you say slowly. “Alright, I can do that. As long as you don’t mind.”

Jamie winks. “Sharing a room with a pretty girl for four days? Ain’t a problem, love.”

You laugh and follow him to the elevator.

—

It feels a bit like playing with fire, agreeing to room with Jamie. Especially since you’re freshly single and definitely open to a rebound. But there will be two beds and a lot of space and anyway, you’ll be busy with the match and social media, respectively. 

Except as soon as you walk through the door, you realize there’s a tiny little hitch.

“There’s one bed,” you blurt out, so surprised you’re unable to filter your words. Jamie blushes a little bit as he says, “Yeah, um, Cockburn and I hate sleeping alone, so we asked for one. He grew up sharing a bed with his brothers and I just fucking hate being alone. I can sleep on the couch if you want.”

“No,” you say firmly, “you need good rest. It’s not a problem.”

It’s not a problem. 

Or at least it wouldn’t have been if Isaac had been a shittier captain. 

But as it is he’s great, so he’s got the whole team going out to dinner at a pre-determined location complete with a dress code of no t-shirts and apparently you count as part of the team, so you have to go too. You’re in your massive bathroom trying to curl your disgusting travel hair when Jamie walks in wearing one of those white hotel bathrobes.

He asks, “You mind if I’m in here?” so you shake your head, struck temporarily mute by his bare clavicle. Fucking hell, you feel like a repressed Victorian woman. 

Jamie says, “Mint,” and goes about his alarmingly detailed skincare routine. You’re pretty sure you’re done with your hair so you crane your neck in an attempt to check the back. 

“Missed a spot,” Jamie says. “Want me to get it for you?”

You shoot him a dubious look but hand him the curler. He runs a hand through your hair, picking up the offending strand and it’s all you can do not to shiver. 

“Mum taught me,” he explains and you nod ever so slightly, not wanting him to accidentally burn your neck. Jamie says, “All good,” and runs his whole hand through your hair this time, making the curls bounce. 

You choke out, “Thanks,” and hurriedly put away your things, desperate to leave before Jamie can pick up on the fact that you can barely handle being in the same room as him, and that you have great concerns about what the night will bring. 

—

“You look fucking hot,” is the first thing Rebecca says when you meet her in the lobby. Keeley looks mildly offended that Rebecca took the words out of her mouth, but she just laughs and taps your arm. 

“Gonna break a few hearts tonight, yeah?” she grins.

You’re not sure about that, especially since dinner turns out to be a very domestic affair. It’s loud, sure, but it’s definitely toned down since it’s a pre-match celebration instead of a post-match one. You’re with Sam, Keeley, and Roy with Jamie far, far away. You push all thoughts of him from your brain only for memories of your ex to surface. You frown. 

“The fuck’s wrong with you?” Roy says and for a moment, you think he’s talking to you. But he’s actually talking to Jamie who has moved from his place across the restaurant to right behind your chair. 

“Fuck off grandad,” Jamie says good-naturedly. “Wanted to tell this one that some of the lads are going out dancing after this. Not too late,” he hastily adds at Roy’s burning scowl, “just for two hours and we’re only allowed one drink.”

You’re pretty sure that’s a bit more liberal than Roy likes, but he nods his head slightly so he must be in a good mood.

“So, you coming?” Jamie asks and before you can reply Sam and Keeley chorus, “Yes she is.”

You give Keeley a Look before turning back to Jamie. “Guess I am,” you reply.

The smile Jamie gives you does more to make your head spin than any amount of alcohol you’ve had in your lifetime.

—

Jamie has taken it upon himself to wipe that frown off your face. He might have been watching you over dinner and that might have been why he chose that exact moment to invite you out, but he’ll never fucking admit it to anyone except Sam. And Keeley. And maybe Cockburn when it was the off-season and they were a little tipsy. (But not drunk, never drunk.) 

So yeah, sue him if he’s spinning you around on the crowded dance floor just because it makes you laugh. It’s not his fault that he’s been wildly in love with you since the day Higgins hired you. It’s not his fault that you’re easy to be around and have the most beautiful smile he’s seen in his life. 

And fuck, it certainly isn’t his fault you can’t see in yourself what others do. Why you settled for a piece of shit like your ex, he’ll never know. But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do his best to show you how special you are. He knows you’ll never feel the same about him, but maybe he can help you level up your standards. Maybe if you’re with someone good, it’ll hurt less that it’s not him. 

So he lets you hold his hand for the entirety of the two hours that the team is out and doesn’t say a word when you don’t let go in the cab back to the hotel. 

You’ve gotten that closed-off look in your eyes again, the one that means you’re thinking about your ex, so Jamie knocks his shoulder into yours and asks why he can’t have the password to the team’s Instagram account, which is a sure fire way to get you to lecture him on irresponsibility and aesthetics and the best way to get your eyes to come back to life.

—

Honestly, it’s easier to fall asleep than you might have expected. It’s a big bed and you’re fucking tired. 

You just didn’t expect to wake up in the middle of the night crying, but it’s always fucking like this when you go through a breakup. You go to sleep fine and wake up sad, so you do your best not to wake up Jamie except you’ve both ended up entangled in each other’s arms, so he can feel you shaking. 

“Hey,” Jamie says in a soft voice, “You’re okay, love.”

You half expect him to push you away once he realizes you’re so close, but he only pulls you closer and presses a kiss to your forehead. Maybe it’s because you’re both half-asleep, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world. 

You sigh and settle into him, drifting off in a matter of moments. 

—

You wake up to a pair of blue eyes watching you. 

“How you feeling?” Jamie asks, voice gravelly with sleep. 

You just blink at him. It’s hard to form coherent sentences within the first ten seconds of waking up, and even harder with the memory of Jamie’s arms around you last night. 

Wait. Not just the memory. The present reality because neither of you have moved. 

Jamie misinterprets your silence and begins to extricate his arms.

“Sorry,” he says, “I’m not to trying to like, cross and fucking boundary or something. Should’ve left you alone.”

You’re still not awake enough to talk so you grab him to stop him from moving away. He gives you a questioning look so you say, “I wouldn’t have agreed to share a bed if I thought you were a creep.”

Jamie grins. “So like, if Jan had offered to share a room you’d’ve said no.”

You wrinkle your nose as you say, “Jan’s not a creep.”

“He’s the fucking worst,” Jamie grumbles, “And anyway, can we not talk about Jan fucking Maas this early in the morning?”

“Sure,” you say, “let’s talk about something else.”

Despite your comment, you both lapse into silence. You’re enraptured by Jamie’s blue eyes. You’ve never been able to study them this close before, and you want to take this opportunity to memorize every fleck of green. 

Jamie seems to have a similar thought, except his gaze flicks to your lips. 

“I have morning breath,” you tell him and he says, “Real men don’t give a shit, babe,” before leaning forward.

It’s softer than you’d expected, sweeter. 

It’s also strange to think that you’re making out with Jamie in bed, and that he’s the one who initiated it.

The thought is so absurd that you giggle, mid-kiss. Jamie breaks away and says, “Oi, there’s no way that was a shit kiss.”

“No,” you say between giggles, “it’s just weird that we’re doing this. Like, how are we supposed to look each other in the eye after?”

Jamie moves so he can look at you better, and you roll from your side to your back. “What do you mean?” he asks.

“Oh come on, we share a room and a bed, we kiss because I have all these sad feelings and you’re feeling a lot of emotions about the match, and then we have to work together after. It’s silly.”

Jamie cocks his head. “That’s what you think is happening?”

“Yes?” you say. None of this is going how it’s supposed to. “What do you think is happening?”

“I like you,” he says, and there is absolutely no mistaking his meaning. 

“Oh,” you reply in a small voice. “Since when?”

“Since before you started dating the twat. When Higgins introduced ya to the team.”

“That’s a fucking long time ago!” you exclaim. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

Jamie rubs his face. “Yeah, ‘cept you showed up to work tellin’ everyone how you started dating the twat. And I ain’t a home wrecker.”

You groan. “Fuuuck. I literally only dated him to try to get over you.”

Jamie shoots up. “What?!”

“Yeah,” you say, “I’ve been like a little bit in love with you ever since you winked at me during that first promo I did.”

Jamie blows out a breath. “Okay. Think that’s enough talking. C’mere. We’re making out proper, like, then we’re going to breakfast.”

You grin as you climb onto his lap. 

[kazbrekkerscrutches]

Xavier Thorpe - Believe Me

Warnings: Threatening Thing (JUSTICE FOR THING), mention of reader being hurt (no gore, no b!ood), overall just love and tension (ENJOY!)

Words: 1.4 k

SHE/HER PRONOUNS

Context/Trope: Reader sneaks into Xavier’s room to find out about Rowan, he catches her. Basically, reader is an Addams (not like Wednesday) and with modified storyline with cheesiness.  

I saw Xavier coming back from his run, hair wet, skin dewy, earbuds in his ears, his sweaty shirt clinging to his chest.

Dear, what a sight for my sore eyes.

He walked back into his room, slamming the door behind him; Thing slipped into his room before the door was closed. I heard another door slam; probably his bathroom door, which means; perfect timing for me to go find out all of his secrets.

I opened the door silently, shutting it quietly behind me.

His room looked like a normal boy’s room. Poster/paintings/drawings on his wall. An artist has to show their talent somehow. Thing looked for anything that could lead me to find out if there was anything about his dear ex-roommate, Rowan.

The one who tried to kill me two times.

[Flashback]

I got out of the infirmary, after that humiliating fencing experience, only to find out that it was raining.

Wonderful. I mean truly, this is quite uplifting.

I opened my umbrella, walked toward my room when I heard a vibration coming over me. I looked up only to find the statue of a gargoyle being tipped to fall on top of me.

This a peaceful death, I thought.

“Y/N!” I heard the familiar sound of a boy taking me by my waist and pushing me to the ground.

Everything was black after that.

[Xavier’s POV]

“Y/N!” I saw Rowan using his telekinesis to try and kill her. I took her by her waist just in time before the gargoyle hit the ground.

I had placed one of my hand under her head, hoping she didn’t break anything. I was almost on top of her, my heart beating out of my chest, tears prickling my eyes.

Please don’t let her be dead, I thought.

“Y/N?” Can you hear me?” I took her face in my hand, placing her gently in my lap.

No reaction.

I gently pressed my ear to her chest, hoping to hear something.

A heartbeat, another one. Thank God, thank whoever is out there.

I picked her up delicately and led her once again to the infirmary. The nurses told me she was okay, that she would’ve been killed if it wouldn’t have been for me.

“Please be okay, Y/N” I whispered. “I can’t lose you. You’re all I have.” I sighted, reassuring myself that she was okay. She will be okay.

She woke up minutes after my words.

“Y/N. Take it easy.” She sat up slowly from the bed, looking straight at me.

“That thing was about to fall on me, correct?” I nodded; she touched her head slightly with her hand.

God she is so beautiful. Her long Y/H/C hair that covered her face slightly, her pale yet sometimes rosy complexion. Her dark clothing, yet fits her so right. God, I am totally in love with her.

“Thank you, Xavier. For not letting me die.” She smiled at me.

No way. I’d never thought I’d see the day when Y/N Addams would smile at me.

“Anytime.” I offered a warm smile back, and we kept talking for a little while, still with my heart beating out of my chest, but in a good way this time.

[Present time, Y/N’s POV]

I looked around the place, finding an empty bed.

Rowan’s, I thought.

I looked under the mattress, not finding anything. His desk, empty. Everything was gone. Not even a single hair was on the mattress or the pillow that was left behind.

I switched my sight over to Xavier’s side.

Maybe there’s something that Rowan hid in there, I thought.

I looked on his desk where colored pencils and pens were spread out on the table.

His sketch book was the also, his initials carved on the leather cover.

X.T.

Such pretty details. I opened it, finding drawings of raven, spiders, sharply detailed drawings.

A cello appeared too. My face was the next page. All my features were correct, as if he drew this with me two inches from his face.

Another drawing of me, sleeping in the infirmary had me shocked.

Was he obsessed with me? Is he like Rowan? My thoughts were rattling through my head.

I was so in my space that when I turned around, I was face to face to the boy in question.

“Hi, what are you doing here?” He was very close to me; hair dripping wet, a hoodie on top of him and pyjama pants hanging on his hips.

I tried to get a logic and sane explanation out, but the stupidest thing came out instead.

“I came here because I thought Rowan might’ve hidden something that could’ve led to him to try to kill me.” I nervously fidgeted with my fingers behind my back, which is something I never, ever do.

“I don’t think there’s anything in my sketch book that might help you, Y/N.” I could practically smell what soap he used to clean his body, wash his hair.

“Right. I should go.” I tried to go but he trapped me by his desk with both of his arms on the desk.

“Tell me the truth, Y/N.” He tilted his head so that he was leveling with mine.

“I did tell you the truth.” I could feel my heart beating out of my chest.

“No, I think you’re here because you have something to tell me. Something that isn’t about Rowan, or the Nightshade or of what Thing found out.” Thing crawled out to be in Xavier’s sight.

He bent down to my ear, whispering slowly in it.

“Are you here to tell me that you like me?” He pulled back, still trapping me by his arms.

I could fell my cheeks heat up, my legs felt shaky and everything about me wanted to scream yes to him. To make him kiss me, touch me with his hands, to embrace me into his scent and make me his.

“That is in your dreams, Xavier. Or shall I say in your drawings too.” His face broke out into a smirk.

“What if I said that I liked you too, Y/N.” My eyes widened up, every part of me that was filled with anxiety left my body.

“I wouldn’t believe you.” I lied.

He bent down to tilt my head up to look up at him. He came closer to me, his lashes practically brushing my cheek.

“You don’t believe me? I’ll guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

His lips met mine, a fire exploded in my heart, my brain, my everything. His lips were soft yet so passionate and kind. His damp hair tickled my cheek as I wrapped one of my hands by his neck, the other one in his hair. His other hand traveled down the valley of my back, caressing my upper back down to my waist. He pulled me closer to him, feeling the softness of his shirt yet the hardness of his body underneath.

We both pulled away to breathe and look at each other.

“Do you believe me now, princess?” I nodded repeatedly.

He smiled and leaned his forehead against mine, I lifted my head up to kiss him again and he gladly accepted. I pulled back and looked at him.

“I’m sorry I barged in your room. I should’ve just asked you.” He rubbed his hands down my back.

“Do it again. I don’t mind.” I laughed a little, he did too.

I checked the time only to notice that I had to go meet Enid in our room.

“I have to go. Enid emergency.” I still looked in his eyes. Beautiful green eyes.

“Manis for her and Thing, got it.” He kissed me once again on the lips before we both pulled away from each other.

“So, you like me right, like this isn’t to get information out of me?” He asked, half joking.

“Yes, I like you, Xavier. Though I could still get information out of you anytime I want.” I winked, leaving his room as he was smiling and I walked back to my room.

Thing followed me from behind, all excited about his manicure.

“If you tell anyone what happened, I will rip out your nails.” I snarked, he shook slightly in fear before swearing he wouldn’t say anything.

I guess I did not fall in love with a psychopath.

[james-is-here]

oh? OH? 👀 🫢

Part two

Blogs: @heartbinn

Tags: Angst, my first hurt/no comfort cause I have a soft heart and could never go through with it, Chan is the one not getting comfort, Members forget Mn, Made the manager...attached to Mn? He's just as sad to see you go.

Lmk if any other tags are needed. Feedback and comments are welcome, it makes me so happy seeing how you thought of my writings.

You realized something was off when you were 'forgotten' for the second live stream in a row. You don't know when it happened. How it started. You just started noticing more and more that you were being left out.

"Sorry, Mn, I thought you were busy. Didn't think to invite you." They always thought you were busy.

"Hectic schedule, I'm sorry." You guys have the same schedule, that's not an excuse.

"I'm sorry, Jagi, I thought that was tomorrow." Even Chan forgot things.

You never use to be like this. You were all once connected, always talking, always hanging out when there was time. They listened to your feedback, they agreed with your inputs, and when they needed, they'd go to you for comfort.

Now it's like you're a ghost. Present but not visible. You look like a deer caught in headlights when they talk about stuff that you haven't been caught up on. There was one time in the choreography that you were to catch one of the boys and you stood around aimlessly and ended up getting yelled at. You yelled right back because they never tell you anything and you didn't know you had to catch one of them. It wasn't fair!

"Mn, you could've hurt Jeongin! Why didn't you catch him?!" "How could I have caught him if I didn't know that was the next move! You guys don't tell me anything anymore!" "Yeah we do!" "Christopher, Don't lie! You are doing it too!" "Mn!" You didn't care that you disrespected him and used his full first name. You were annoyed.

Your breaking point was two things. The first was when you had to find out about an upcoming album through your manager. He had sent you a preview photo of the album cover and you flew into a panic attack. New Album? When? How? They decided on things without you? You're apart of the group too, how could they not have realized you weren't there?!

The second was when you were waiting...and waiting...and waiting in Chan's room. He had promised a movie night for your anniversary and yet four hours later than when he promised, he still wasn't there. You just left his room, red eyed and absolutely pissed. That night, he didn't even check on you when he came home.

It took a couple days but you had officially left Stray Kids. You couldn't take the neglect anymore, it was unfair, uncalled for. Your manager was sad to see you go but he understood, even he noticed the others neglect but it seemed that when he told them off it went through one ear and out the other.

You packed at night, taking about half an hour to debate if you wanted to take memories of being in the group but instead you just took down the photos of you and the boys and cut yourself out, leaving just the boys along with the few albums and photo cards you kept on your desk, throwing the pieces of you in the waste bin underneath.

Tears streamed down your face as you packed your suitcase. Midway, your realized you folded the two hoodies Chan gave you. You lay one on your bed but decide to keep the white one as you zip up your luggage and start packing your other one.

Leaving in the cover of night let you leave without seeing their faces, without seeing possible confusion or pity pleads to have you stay. In the days it took to be out of the group, you also managed to get accepted into another company. You would've stayed at JYPE if it didn't mean you'd still see the boys that once brought you joy, if you stayed you'd have to put up with them trying to talk you back into the group. You just can't seem to trust them anymore.

You ex-manager was nice enough to take you to your home where you're staying until you can properly integrate into your new company, possibly into a new group. You heard that the company knew you and would be helping you to try and join a group or even help you become a soloist.

That morning, the boys went on with their lives, completely oblivious. It wasn't until after practice and recording that they were finishing up and getting ready to leave the room they gathered in to discuss the album when Chan looked around and finally noticed. "Wait...Where's Mn?" Their manager looked at Chan and the others before sighing. "Really? Haven't I yelled at all of you to stop ignoring him? It took you almost all day to realize?" Your manager felt really bad for what they were doing to you so he did get a bit heated.

"What do you mean?" The manager sighs before guiding the boys out. "Let's get to the dorms." Is all he says. When they get there, the manager makes them sit on the couch, hands on his hips. "Have any of you really realized that you were excluding Mn? I asked him about the album cover and he told me that he didn't even know a comeback was planned to happen. He also told me that you yelled at him for almost dropping Jeongin but you guys never told him or showed him the choreo, how could he have caught him if he didn't even know what was going on?"

With a deep sigh, the manager looks down at the floor before delivering the news. "Mn signed out four days ago..." He looks back up to the boys, staring at him wide eyed. "What?" "He's gone, Chan. I took him home last night." "W-Well, we'll see him at the company at some point right? So he's not-" "He's moving to KQ. He thought that if he stayed at JYPE you guys would stop him at any opportunity to try and get him back. They're already looking to either put him in a group or help him be a soloist." Han was the first to move, running past the manager to run to your room.

The others hear him cry out a moment later then return with your cut photos in his hands. "He's gone..." A few others run to see it for themselves as Han drops the cut photos next to Chan and slides down the nearby wall to cry into his hands.

Chan picked up one of the photos. A picture of you and him, a selfie with him hugging you from behind with his chin on your shoulder. He remembered the negative space where you were, you had your head turned, looked at him with so much love and a bright smile that matched his.

"I'm sorry, Chan...but he was tired of being just a shadow. I wanted him to reconsider but I saw everything and I knew it would be worthless." He saw in the corner of his eyes some members trying to call you only to huff when they got your voicemail.

Years later, they still felt hallow. They were happy and working well but they still felt empty. They know you've blocked them but they still texted you or tried to call you even after this long.

Telling Stay was really hard, they just told them it was for mental health issues but some Stays also noticed the neglect and pieced it together, especially when some fans noticed you in another group.

They were backstage getting ready to preform at the award ceremony the main title from their new album, decked in pirate like outfits with layers and accessories but still dressed a minimum amount to be able to dance.

Chan was helping Felix with his headset when Felix caught something out of the corner of his eye. "Mn!" His eyes widen as a smile took over his dropped jaw and the others turn in the direction Felix is looking. You stop hearing your name, turning to see who it was only to stare at the group of boys unmoving. Felix's hand hesitated before waving at you with a gentle smile.

It's been so long that you were honestly thrown off by how much they've grown and how handsome they've become. You see Jeongin smile at you and you notice his braces are gone, Hyunjin has grown his hair out along with Felix. These little details are forgotten the moment you feel a hand on the side of your face and you turn back around. "Hey." You smile, Seonghwa completely taking your attention as you watch him smile in return, your hands resting on his waist. "Come on, Jagiya. We've been waiting for you." He says, leaning forward to give you a quick peck but you pull him back to you for a slightly longer kiss before you take his hand and he takes you back to the table.

You heard their gasp when you kissed Seonghwa but honestly, you didn't care. You were seen in Ateez, heard and included way more than you ended up becoming in Stray Kids.

Chan's heart was crushed, he honestly had hope that you guys could talk it out but also knew there was no way but he still hoped. His tears blurred his vision as he let a sob left him, he tried not to let them fall, he had to go on stage soon, but it hurt. He had lost not just a member but someone he actually truly loved. He didn't mean to forget him, he didn't mean to push him away. The regret of not realizing sooner still weighed heavily on his shoulders after this long.

The way you held Seonghwa was the same way you'd hold him. The smile and shine in your eye you gave the other idol was the same you'd give to him, the same one in the taped photo that still remains on his desk after he found the other half. The members also have the other photos, taped as well and put on the fridge.

What crushed Chan the most in that moment?

You didn't look back as Seonghwa took you away.

pssst, I would write more Ateez but I don't fully know their dynamics and personalities completely so I'll probably just insert them like I did in this fic 😁

[daughterofcain-67]

𝔰𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔱𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔦𝔠

(Dean Winchester x Female Reader)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s the month of love and you were already over the idea of couples and relationships, especially since your last relationship turned out to be a disaster. Due to the guilt you felt over the breakup you find yourself hesitant to open up to the idea that you may be in love with a certain hunter you shared a home with in the Bunker. But when a case dealing with witches causes you to question certain things, it’s up to you to figure out your feelings for Dean and find out if they were truly genuine unlike your last mistake.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: This is my very first smut and it will be at the end of the case. It’s just something fluffy since Valentine’s Day is around the corner. Minors DNI, no matter how low-quality the content may be. If you don’t like this kind of content then politely skip this oneshot…Cannon level violence, fingering, love making, Dean being the sweetest man in existence. I hope you all enjoy~

It was already February and you dreaded Valentine’s Day which was coming up rather quickly. Tomorrow, actually. Everyone around you was so hyper focused on romantic relationships, one night stands, and you knew you would be single yet again.

Sam would be going off with Eileen and they had plans to go see some sort of show then go to dinner and spend the night in a hotel room. Adorable plans, yeah, but you still didn’t see the hype when they could do that on any random weekend. Then there was Jody meeting up with some man that her two girls set her up with because they wanted her to get out more. Dean you were positive would be out for some one-night stand to feed into his libido. You, however, you’d likely be spending the night in the bunker alone.

It was by choice, really. Ever since you broke up with your last boyfriend, you didn’t want to take the chance of going out again. You’d rather stay single for eternity than for anyone to get hurt in the event a relationship didn’t work out.

Your ex was named James, and he was the sweetest guy. He treated you well, respected you, even spoiled you every once in a while. You both had many fun times together but something just didn’t sit right with you, you didn’t see yourself spending your life with him. You didn’t see a marriage with him. When you broke the news, he took it a little hard but he respected your decision.

There was no drama and you were lucky it wasn’t an ugly break up, but the idea of him being hurt ate at you constantly because you felt like you got into that relationship for the wrong reasons. You were simply thrilled to finally find a man that loved you, but you didn’t stop and consider if your own feelings for James was genuine.

You felt so guilty for leading James on, you felt guilty for wasting his time in a relationship even if it was a short relationship - merely four months. Sam and Dean were there for you when you returned to the Bunker after the breakup and they knew how hard it was for you because you felt like James didn’t deserve for his heart to be broken like that.

Now it’s been four years since you’ve broken up with James, and from what you saw on social media he was a lot happier and he moved on to another girlfriend, someone who returned the same feelings he had. He found a woman he really deserved.

But why couldn’t you move on?

Within these past several years, you’ve not had a fling. There were no rebounds, one-night stands, no drunken mistakes, no other boyfriends. You felt like ever since you broke one person’s heart, you were unable to find yourself in another relationship. You didn’t want to bring anybody that kind of hurt again, so you never really moved on even if you knew that James had and he was happy. You were happy for him of course, but you couldn’t really explain how you felt.

The heart was such a delicate thing sometimes and you hated it.

Dean was supportive of you though. He knew better than anyone what unnecessary guilt felt like, and when Sam would try to cheer you up it typically didn’t work. Right after the breakup, Dean was there to listen. He didn’t do much talking since he usually didn’t feel the way you did when he broke things off with girls. The only breakup he ever experienced that effected him the most was Lisa, and he never talked about her or Ben after it happened. But that was the one he would use as an example because there were times he would feel guilty of getting them into trouble just by knowing them. So he would often tell you that you did the right thing by breaking things off because James was no hunter, he would have had no idea what he was up against so in a way, you were protecting more than his heart. You were protecting his life, and in a way it made you feel a little less guilty.

You were lucky he was there for you to rant to even if he didn’t like talking about things like that. You found that it was easy to talk to Dean. Much easier than having a conversation with Sam. It was just a different chemistry with Dean and you felt like Dean seemed to understand where you were coming from.

So the past three Valentine’s days you were either drinking alone, having some sort of marathon in your room, or reading some books. This year you decided to just go on a hunt. After all, Valentine’s Day was just another day for singles right? Might as well work and do what you did the best.

Presently, you were in the library with your laptop in front of you as you looked for any suspicious articles and headlines that would be strange and maybe even your kind of thing. For the past thirty minutes or so, you were coming up with nothing. Everything that you saw looked like just simple robberies, typical murder cases that didn’t have anything suspicious to them in the articles. You were starting to lose the hope that you would actually end up finding anything, but that was when something finally caught your attention.

In Grand Island, Nebraska, there were reports of couples going missing. It didn’t matter if they were tourists or locals, but within the past three months, six couples have gone missing. To you that sounded like a lot. Two couples a month disappearing out of nowhere? That may have sounded suspicious and you wanted to do a little more digging. Just as you were looking into the names of the couples that went missing, you heard footsteps.

“Whatcha workin’ on?”

You didn’t need to glance behind you to know that Dean was the one roaming around the library. You heard him move a chair so he could sit in front of you and through your peripheral you saw he set down a mug of coffee. So you knew he may stay for a little while so you might as well discuss the case with him.

“I’m looking into a case. It sounds something that could be our kind of thing.” You answered, not lifting your gaze because you were still trying to find more evidence that could hint at a hunt.

“You care to share?”

“Hang on, I’m looking… What I’m gathering is that in Nebraska there have been a total of six couples within the last three months that have gone missing. To me that sounds like a lot and their bodies were never found. Two of the couples were tourists but the rest seemed to be local. I haven’t found anything yet that would make it seem even more like our thing, but I think I want to go anyway.” You admitted.

“To be fair, we’ve gone on hunts with a lot less than what you’ve found. You want some company on this one?”

“You aren’t planning on going out for Valentines Day?” You asked with a bit of surprise and Dean chuckled a little.

“Around here? No. Not this year. A hunt might do me some good since Sam’s not gonna be here anyway. Plus I can go to the bar anytime. I haven’t had a hunt in the past week and I’d rather not get out of practice.” He insisted and you smiled.

“I’d love it if you were company. I guess it could be good for the both of us.” You smiled and you pulled out your phone to put in the city so you could look into some reasonable hotels you and Dean could stay in while you were in Nebraska. Then you shut off the computer.

“I’ll meet you in the garage in a few minutes. I need to go pack a few things.” You said.

Dean smiled at you and he watched you jog up the stairs so you could pack and get ready for Nebraska.

Naturally, Dean didn’t want you to go on a hunt alone. To him it was better to hunt with a partner, to have someone have your back just incase something went wrong. That’s why he preferred hunting with Sam. Nowadays, Dean only hunted alone as a last resort. He supposed it was just his preference and sort of a precaution as well since he didn’t want anything to happen to you on the hunt. He’d rather you make it back in one piece.

He knew you hated Valentine’s Day, and you got so irritated with couples so easily this time of year. But he hated that you seemed to be punishing yourself over the James thing. It was unfair to you. Maybe one day you would understand that, but he didn’t think it would be anytime soon.

Dean got up and he took the last couple of sips of his coffee before he went back to the kitchen and put the mug in the sink before he started heading off into his room so he could go ahead and get dressed and pack up for the trip. He swiftly got changed into a pair of jeans that were clean enough for the trip, tossed on one of his many black t-shirts and he threw on a flannel and a jacket. Then he grabbed some extra clothes and shoved them into a bag that had an extra blanket for you on the ride since he knew you’d probable get cold in Nebraska.

He grabbed whatever other weapons he thought would be needed, not that the back of Baby’s trunk didn’t have enough artillery, and when he zipped up his bag he walked out of his room so he could make his way out to the garage.

When he made it there he realized you had beat him to the car, waiting for him to unlock the vehicle. Your hair was in a messy bun, a few strands were in your face no matter how many times you tried to pull those pieces back. You were dressed in one of his old band shirts that was shrunk because Sam put it in the dryer by mistake so it was too small for Dean. It suited you much better anyway, but maybe he was a little biased.

Okay, more than just a little biased.

It wasn’t his fault you were so damn beautiful! And it wasn’t his fault that over the past few years you were beginning to rock his world. You made it so easy for him to fall for, despite all of his efforts not to fall so hard.

You were the only person that understood him in a way that Sam didn’t seem to understand him. You were there to listen when he would go off on his rants, you were his voice of reason when he was opposed to Sam and you made it a little easier to be open minded when it came to a lot of the cases that he and Sam didn’t agree on. You kept him steady and level headed and he knew that he needed you in his corner. He hadn’t realized just how much he started to rely on you until about a year ago when you had a close call on a hunt when a shifter took you and nearly killed you.

“That didn’t take you long at all.” Dean said with a chuckle, but he knew you were pretty quick when it came to packing anyway.

“I already had a bag prepped. I just needed to throw in some last minute things that I didn’t want to forget about. Like toothbrushes and stuff like that.” You shrugged and Dean grinned while simultaneously rolling his eyes.

“Hop in already before we lose daylight.” He said and he unlocked the door, then the two of you hopped in.

When Dean started up the car, Rush’s Xanadu was playing through the speakers and he turned up the volume a little as he drove off so the two of you could begin your journey. He knew it would only be a matter of hours before you would arrive and lucky for him, you had the same tastes in music as he did, so it wasn’t like driving with Sam where he would complain the whole time the music played.

About three minutes into the ten minute song, he could see you through the peripheral tapping your fingers on your thigh as if it were the guitar strings being played. He knew if he had seatbelts in the car you’d probably use it as the neck of the guitar. He thought you were just adorable that way but never said anything out loud. But for now while you were strumming the imaginary strings on your thigh with one hand, your other was on the phone.

“What are you lookin’ up?”

“Just some hotels in the surrounding area. I figured it would be easier if I found one and called it in now rather than just showing up spontaneously.” You answered and he hummed a little.

“Find anything good?”

“Well I found one that’s actually pretty close to the police station. So that pretty much takes care of saving some drive time. Won’t have to wander around and figure out where it’s at.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense. We can go with that one.” Dean said, honestly not really caring about which one they went to. use as long as they would make it to one. But it wouldn’t be his first time sleeping in his beloved car if it came to that point.

“Holy cow! Why are hotels this expensive?!” He heard you exclaim and he chuckled.

“Did you forget what tomorrow was, Sweetheart? Prices are gonna be a bit higher because a bunch of couples are gonna be bumpin’ uglies.” Dean laughed at the way you scrunched your nose and you called the number on your phone so you could make the arrangements to stay in the hotel.

Several hours had gone by and Dean pulled up to the hotel you’d booked. When he glanced over at you, he saw you were snuggled up in the blanket he grabbed. He was glad he remembered it, and he hated to wake you up but you both had a job to do. So, Dean carefully placed his hand on your shoulder to nudge you a little.

“Y/N? We’re here.” You grumbled in response and slowly opened your eyes, squinting as you looked around your surroundings.

When you tossed off the blanket you handed it to him and he just tossed it in the back for the next time you’d need it on the car ride back home. The two of you got out of the car and checked into the hotel so you could at least out your things away and stretch your legs a bit.

“Did you see the police station while you were driving?” Dean heard you question, to which he nodded.

“Yeah, it’s like two minutes away. Why don’t we go ahead and get dressed in the Fed suits and see what the police have come up with on the files.” He suggested as you rubbed your eyes, still trying to wake up from the nap.

“Sounds good to me.” You replied as you grabbed your bags and headed off to the bathroom to change clothes.

You dressed up in your black pantsuit, a purple buttoned up shirt with a couple of the buttons undone and you let your hair down from it’s bun from earlier. To your surprise, your hair was actually working with you after your nap. At least it made getting out of the hotel a little easier since you usually wore your hair down as a fed or detective wannabe.

Dean was dressed in a dark grey suit, white shirt and a tie with a random design on it. You swore you needed to take him shopping for different ties one of these days, but that would have to be a later occasion since the two of you were already in the car on the way to the station.

Arriving only a couple of minutes later since traffic was surprisingly light, you and Dean got out of the car and started making your way inside and went to the front desk.

“Hello there, if you don’t mind we’d like to talk to the Chief of the department.” You said and the secretary looked at both you and Dean. Although she took a bit of a lingering look at Dean, which gave you the overwhelming urge to roll your eyes but you had to resist.

“And who are the two of you? I only have to ask because I can’t just let anybody in. The chief is a busy man.” The secretary said and still had yet to peel her eyes off the other hunter, making your jaw tighten.

Dean pulled out his FBI badge and you did the same, “I’m special Agent Lifeson and this is Agent McVie. We’re here in regards to the disappearances. Do you think you could be a Doll and go ahead and squeeze us in? I know a guy like him is busy, so are we.”

Dean must’ve known this little secretary thought he was attractive because with a little wink he gave, she was more than ready to pick up the phone and press the number to the chief’s office while her cheeks were dusted with pink.

“Oh give me a break.” You mumbled as you put your badge away.

“Sir? There are a couple of suits here that would like to speak with you.” She said and with a little nod she concluded the short call and hung up the phone before looking up at Dean again.

“He’ll be out to see you in a couple of moments.” She said.

“Thank you, Miss…?”

“Oh, just call me Maura.”

“Well thank you, Maura, for the help.” Dean said and after what felt like ages to you, the Chief showed up.

“You two must be my surprise visitors. The name’s Korsak. What can I do for the both of you?” He asked, and to your surprise he was rather friendly.

“Actually, we’re here to discuss the disappearance of those six couples over the past three months.” You heard Dean reply and Korsak knew exactly what he was talking about.

“So the suits finally caught wind of this one, huh? Come with me.” He said and he invited the both of you to his office for further discussion of the case.

When the three of you made it into the office, you all had taken your seats, you and Dean were of course in front of the Chief’s desk as he sat down. You watched as the officer opened up his drawer and opened up his copy of the file and placed it on the desk.

“This case has all my detectives stumped. The only connection we’ve been able to establish so far was that they were couples. When we check our servailence, we did happen to notice the last time all of our missing couples were last seen on Mainstreet, which is basically where all of our little shops are. Lots of couples have been going there in December, and that was when the first disappearance happened. January has been a little slow, no disappearances to note. But then this month it started back up again. Three of the six couples were kidnapped just this month alone.”

You and Dean looked at each other, knowing you both would have to check Mainstreet. Then you looked back at the Cheif, “Could we go ahead and take a look at the surveillance you captured?”

The chief pulled out some pictures from the footage and handed them to both you and Dean. All of the buildings in the surrounding area seemed pretty old, some needed maybe a new coat of paint or a power was, but one thing caught your eye. One of the businesses that one of the couples were seen leaving seemed pretty new. They had new paint on the door and on the windows, the sign for the business seemed new too.

“Chief Korsak, what can you tell me about this business?” You questioned and pointed at the picture.

“Oh that? That’s just some crystal shop. I don’t get why people get so interested in rocks… my daughter went in there before. She likes those crystals and dream catchers and stuff. It just opened up in November of last year.” He said and you nodded a little as you took a look at the business again.

“Is there anything you can tell us about the case? Was there anything left behind in their homes when you tried to do a wellness check in their homes or hotels they were staying in?” Dean asked as if he were searching for a little more of a lead that would give you more of a reason for this to be a hunting gig.

“Well, we did notice something a little weird but we didn’t think that much of it at first.” The chief said and he began to clear his throat.

“We didn’t put it in the file, but we did find some orchid colored substance. It wasn’t enough to bag it, but when one of our CSI members tried to sample it, it turned clear and didn’t show up in our systems. We have no clue what it could have been.”

“Gotcha.. If that’s everything, I think we’ll be off and talk to those business owners and see if they saw anything. Thanks for everything.” Dean said as he got up, then he leaned over to shake Chief Korsak’s hand.

You stood up as well and you handed him your card, “If there’s anything else you can think of, please don’t hesitate to let us know.”

And with that, the two of you left the station and went back to the car. When you got inside, you tried to wrap your head around this case as best as you could. You heard Dean shut his door and start the car before he spoke.

“So what are you thinking?”

“Witch… Just by the substance. If the substance the cops found didn’t show up as anything, it could be a part of a witch spell to remain undetected.” You answered honestly while Dean started backing out.

“But that many people in a month? Two people in a month, I can see being one witch. Maybe two couples a month depending on how powerful they are. But three couples in barely two weeks? Maybe we’re dealing with more than one witch.” Dean suggested.

“Did you remember the witch killing bullets if we need them?” You asked.

“Of course. They’re sitting in the trunk.” Dean answered and you smiled. Then pulled out your phone to look up that new business on Mainstreet.

“Okay, so the business that the final couple was seen exiting was called Cosmic Treasures. So why don’t we head that way and find out what we can about the owners?” You suggested.

“We could, but what if we ask some of the neighboring shops first? Maybe ask them what they think about the owners of the shop, maybe they saw something or maybe they think it’s a little suspicious?” Dean suggested. It sort of shocked you that he was being surprisingly rational.

“That’s not a bad idea. It gives us sort of a background on them so we know what we’re getting into.” You replied and he drove off to Mainstreet. After a few moments the car was parked and the two of you stepped out again.

You looked around at some of the shops and you tried to decide which one you should go to first.

“Okay, if you take that little candy store, I’ll go to the antique shop.” You said and Dean looked at you.

“What? You don’t trust me to go antiquing?” He asked, faking the offense.

“Considering you like to touch everything and you have a tendency to knock things down, I think you going to the candy store will be the safest option.” You chuckled, causing Dean to pout a little.

“Alright, fine.” He said and the two of you parted ways.

You made your way into the antique shop and the doorbell rang out. Then you heard a voice, you assumed it was the sound of one of the owners.

“Hi there! Welcome in.” A woman said and you followed the voice.

You saw behind a counter, there was a woman that had to be in her sixties. She had Brown hair with some grey in her hair, some glasses on the bridge of her nose but she had a kind look in her eyes.

“Hello there, I’m Agent McVie.” You said and you held up your badge, “Are you the owner of this store by any chance?”

“I am. The name’s Angela O’Riley. How can I help you, Sweetie?”

“I was just wondering if you could tell me a little bit about the owners of Cosmic Treasures?”

“Oh the cute little crystal shop? They’re a sweet little couple. Young and rather eccentric. Despite their alternative lifestyle, I think they’re sweet. May I ask why the FBI is looking into them?” The sweet woman questioned.

“We’re just looking into a couple of missing person’s cases. The last couple was seen exiting their store and we just wanted to ask around and see if anyone has seen anything suspicious.” You admitted and the woman shook her head.

“I wouldn’t consider anything they do suspicious. Just… alternative and unusual. They say they like witchcraft and spells and what not, but I think they’re just some hippies trying to make a living. The wife is talented and she’s the one that actually makes the dream catchers. Beautiful artwork. I’ve actually bought some from her.” Angela said and she held up a finger as a gesture for you to wait a moment as she pulled it out.

She handed it to you so you could take a look at it and you carefully took it from her. It was a black dream catcher with white, grey and blue feathers. You didn’t know much about dreamcatchers, but you knew some of these colors had meaning. “Beautiful craftsmanship. You’re right, she does have a talent.”

“She said something along the lines of the colors bringing healing, peace, protection, hope. It was really sweet of her to make it. She said she wanted it to bring luck for the store since we’ve been a little slow. But I just think it’s wonderful decoration.” The woman said and you handed it back to her.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Agent?” Angela asked and you shook your head a little.

“Are you sure? Maybe I can help you find some sort of gift for a special someone. We have a little bit of everything here, you know.”

“Oh, I don’t really have a special someone…” You said, although you did think of Dean.

“Actually… do you have any knives I can take a look at?”

“Oh of course! Right this way.” Angela guided you to her knife section and you saw all of the different knives with beautiful handles.

“Who made all of these?” You asked.

“Actually, my husband did before he passed away. He was talented as well. He took pride in his work and he would sell pocket knives and different blades here as well for all of the husbands that weren’t really interested in their wives’ antiquing hobbies. Gave the men a little something to occupy their time.” She smiled and you grinned.

“They’re all beautiful.” You said and that was when you saw a certain knife that had some sort of engraving on the handle. The handle itself had different shades of green and you thought it was beautiful with the way the engravings were in gold.

“May I take a look at this one?” You pointed at the one that had your attention in the display case.

“Ahh, yes. That’s a good one. My husband loved that one. It was his favorite, but no one really seemed to like the engravings on it. My husband said it’s supposed to enhance protection. He was a bit superstitious but the customers didn’t see it.” She said and you smiled.

“I’ll take it. It’s perfect.”

“I think your little someone will like it too. You deny it but it’s all over your face.” The woman said and she smiled as she handed it to you.

You didn’t want to argue with the woman, but you couldn’t help but be excited to see Dean’s reaction when he saw this knife. It looked similar to the demon blade they had and you wondered if this could help at all since Angela’s husband was certain it would bring protection.

Once you pulled out your wallet and paid for it, you thanked the woman.

“Good luck on your case, Agent.” She smiled at you and you left the store.

Dean walked into the candy shop called Sugarcane Sweets and saw there was a couple behind the counter. The woman was the one that noticed he walked in first and she went to the front of the counter and gave a warm smile.

“Hello! How can I help you?” She asked, tone about as friendly as Dean would expect a business woman to be.

“Hi there. Are you two the owners of this place?” He asked.

“Yes, we are.” The man said and came up as well. Dean noticed the rings on their fingers and figured they were a married couple.

“Hi, Sir. I’m Agent Lifeson. I was just wondering if I could ask the both of you a couple of questions about one of the neighboring shops.” Dean said.

“Lifeson? As in Alex Lifeson the guitarist?” The man asked and Dean chuckled.

“Rush fan, huh? No relation, unfortunately. But that would be badass.” He admitted and the man smiled.

“Damn, that really would be badass. The name’s Sean Patterson, this is my wife, Jaylah. What can we do for you?”

“Well, Sean, I’m looking into some missing person’s cases and the last couple that went missing around here was visiting Mainstreet. We have reason to believe they were shopping around the area and the last place they were seen was in Cosmic Treasures. I was hoping you two would be able to tell me a little about the owners of the store?” Dean said.

“Oh, you mean Keith and Harper? Oh I don’t think those two would hurt a fly.” Jaylah said.

“The two of them are a little on the eccentric side but I think they just like the aesthetic. I don’t really believe in the voodoo mess they sell. I mean crystals and dreamcatchers? Really? I think they just like the cannabis and hippie lifestyle more than anything. Their rocks are more for decoration than anything.” Sean said with a shrug.

That was when the door opened and when Dean looked over, you were walking through the door.

“Oh, hello there!” Jaylah greeted you with a smile.

“Hello.” You smiled back.

“Mr. and Mrs. Patterson, this is my partner Agent McVie. She’s helping me out on the case.” Dean introduced you.

“We were just telling your partner that Keith and Harper are pretty much harmless. I don’t think they would know anything about these kidnappings you’re looking into.” Sean admitted.

Jaylah was looking at both you and Dean, and Dean wondered what she was thinking about while her husband was explaining the conversation, “You know you two would be a cute little couple.”

Dean blinked a little in surprise at the random statement, “Excuse me?”

“I mean granted if you weren’t working in the same agency. Conflict of interest and what not.” She continued and Dean was still a little flabbergasted by the sudden change in conversation. When Dean glanced at you, he could see a faint rose color appear on your cheeks as you cleared your throat.

“You’ll have to pardon my wife. She likes to play matchmaker. She reads too many romance novels in her spare time.” Sean laughed and you smiled.

“Oh no harm done. Anyway, what else can you tell us? Have any of these missing couples come into that store or any other stores around here that you remember over the last three months?” Dean asked as he pulled out his phone that had some pictures of the missing couples.

“Most of them we do recognize, unfortunately. They’ve come in here sometimes to get a little something to snack on, as do a lot of people around here. We have some tourists that come in here too. Just yesterday we had a group of people coming here and visiting from Colorado stop by. They were visiting family.” Jaylah spoke.

“So you get a lot of people.”

“We do get pretty busy. People around the holidays get a bit of a sweet tooth around Christmas and Valentines Day. January we were about as slow as other businesses around here. People trying to recover from Christmas shopping and all.” Sean replied.

“It really is a shame that those couples went missing. We get a lot of couples all the time just walking around the area as a little date or whatever and we never used to have this problem.” Jaylah said with a frown.

“It’s alright. Unexpected things happen all the time. But please, if there’s anything else you can remember about the couples or where they may have gone, please let us know.” Dean said and he handed them his card that had his number on it.

“Wait a moment, agents.” Jaylah said and she picked up a goodie bag and started putting some freebies inside and she handed the bag to Dean.

“Just a little something to snack on. Good luck on your case.” She smiled and Dean looked inside, his eyes sparkling. What? He couldn’t help the fact that he liked junk food unlike his little brother.

“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson.” He said and you thanked the woman as well before the both of you walked out of the store to go back to the car.

“So what did you find out in the antique store?” Dean asked as he looked through all the goodies. He heard you chuckle, he figured you were watching him go through the candy like a kid.

“About the same thing you did. But apparently Harper has a talent with dreamcatchers. Not that dreamcatchers have anything to do with the case. At least I wouldn’t think so. They aren’t usually linked to missing persons cases are they?” He heard you question and he shook his head.

“No, not usually.”

“Maybe we can do a little research over dreamcatchers and Keith and Harper over something substantial before you devour that candy bag.” Dean chuckled at your comment before he closed up the bag and the two of you got into the car.

You and Dean had changed out of the fed attire and you were back in something more comfortable. For you it was your jeans and a band shirt. You two had done your research and found that there hasn’t been any record of dreamcatchers being linked to kidnapping in any hunting cases. Afterwards, the two of you went to ask the victim’s friends about the couples.

Anytime you went to talk to friends and families about the missing couples it was always how perfect they were for each other, how they were planning on either getting married or the one was about to propose to another. All the true love things that made you feel uncomfortable around this time of year.

One couple, or former couple rather, did remember going to Mainstreet with one of the missing couples. They recalled their trip, they went to the candy store and picked up some goodies for their friends to take home with them, then they went to some other stores to find some clothes and other things they liked before they went to Cosmic Treasures. After they left Mainstreet and returned home, they hadn’t heard from the couple again. But the former couple got into some big argument and they broke up the day their friends went missing.

You were on the way to go check out Cosmic Treasures. Both of you knew it was definitely closed by now and you would be breaking and entering, but it wouldn’t have been the first time the two of you had broken in somewhere.

You gazed out of the window of the Impala while Dean drove and you started to think about different things. You knew couples were everywhere right now, so why were those three the only targets?

“You’re awfully quiet. Penny for your thoughts?” Dean asked and you shrugged a little.

“Just something about this case… of all the couples out there, whoever kidnapped these couples are pretty sick. I mean, they take the couples that are really in love, when there are plenty of other couples out there that just didn’t want to be alone on Valentine’s Day, or they’re just in the relationship to say they have someone. Why go after the ones that actually have a future?” You asked.

“Witches are evil creatures…. They must have their own sort of sick and twisted reason.” Dean said.

“Well, what about Rowena? She’s quickly become an ally.”

“Well sure, but that doesn’t mean her past wasn’t at least a little malicious before she met us.”

“Yeah.. I guess that’s fair. I just don’t think they deserved it.” You sighed and soon enough you pulled into the back of the store. When the both of you got out, Dean handed you a gun with witch killing bullets before he grabbed one for himself.

When you made it to the door, Dean grabbed his lock picking kit from his pocket and started to get to work.

“Hey, Dean?” You asked and he hummed.

“Do you still think about Lisa?” He paused for a moment. He glanced at you before he looked back at the lock and went back to work.

“Not as often as I used to.” You were a little surprised that he answered.

“You’re still thinking about James, huh?”

“Yeah…”

Dean finally got the door opened and he stood upright before he pushed the door open, then he let you walk inside first, “You’ve really got to stop beating yourself up over him.”

“It’s not that easy…”

“Y/N, come on. Cut yourself some slack. It’s not like you cheated on the guy. You said yourself, he moved on and he’d a lot happier. And more importantly, he’s alive. This life isn’t cut out for a guy like James so you were doing him a favor and he gets to live a normal life without worrying about the shit that creeps around in the dark.”

You sighed a little, knowing he was right and you knew how wishy-washy you sounded. You hated that you sounded like that but you geared your focus on the case once more.

What was worse was that you wanted to move on. You truly did. But you weren’t lying when you said it wasn’t easy. Especially since you were a hunter and if you got into a relationship with someone you knew that if you didn’t hurt them emotionally, they may get hurt physically - maybe even get them killed because of your lifestyle.

Maybe Angela was right and you did have a special someone, and maybe it really was Dean. But the man has gone through enough hurt in his life and you didn’t want to bring anymore heartache. You couldn’t handle doing that to someone like Dean when he deserved the world.

“Do you think these people are actually into witchcraft or do you think they’re just hopping onto a trend?” You asked.

“Nowadays? Who knows what people are getting themselves into without realizing it.” Dean sighed as he picked up some of the crystals.

You went to the front desk and saw the logbook of the things the couple have sold. You skimmed through the purchases to see if there as anything that stood out to you. But then you found some of the names that looked familiar, “I think I’ve got something.”

Dean walked over to you and he dug into his pocket and pulled out a sucker from the shop and popped it into his mouth.

“What’d you find?”

“The couple that went on that double date? The couple that went missing bought some sort of crystals that were meant for some kind of prosperity in the marriage. Look for one of those.” You said and Dean nodded as he looked around, you did the same.

After a few minutes, Dean started to realize something, “I think these are fake… some sort of knock off. I think Keith and Harper really were on some kind of trend.”

“So they aren’t our witches….” You sighed as Dean shook his head and he handed you a sucker. You shrugged a little and took it before popping it in your mouth.

The two of you exited the store the way you came and you hopped into the car again. To your surprise, the sucker tasted like cinnamon, mixed with something sweet. It was an odd taste for a lollipop but it wasn’t a bad taste either. “So what do we do now?”

“Not sure. Maybe we ought to go to the hotel and sleep on it.” Dean said and you nodded a little, knowing that it was getting pretty late.

When you both got into the car again, you leaned your back against the seat and you tried to think of who the witches could be. You and Dean didn’t have that many options to choose from since no one else seemed to be suspicious. But you supposed Cosmic Treasures would have been a little too obvious for this case.

“You’re robbing yourself, you know.” Dean’s voice broke your train of thought.

“What?”

“The James thing. You can’t feel guilty about that forever. You don’t deserve that kind of weight when there’s not much of a need for it. You’re robbing yourself of something good in the future.” Dean finally spoke and you lifted a brow. You wondered just how long he was waiting to tell you that.

You didn’t say anything in response and you remained quiet for the rest of the car ride all the way to the hotel. But when the two of you arrived and got into the hotel room, you realized that everything was disheveled. Your hotel room had been broken into.

“What the Hell?” You said as you looked around and started to look to check if anything was missing.

“I guess the witches may know who we are before we found them.” Dean said and he ran a hand through his short hair.

“Not comforting.”

“Wanna see something less comforting?” Dean asked and you turned around and went to see what he was talking about.

“Orchid colored substance.” Dean said as he swiped his finger and held it up to you to look at. You lifted a brow and tried to think of anything.

“Wait a second… Before the last couple went to Cosmic Treasures, their friends said they all went to the candy store, right?” You asked and Dean nodded.

You quickly took the bag of candy that Jaylah gave you and looked through it. You opened up all the wrappers and saw that some of the candy also had that orchid colored stuff on the wrappers, some of the candies themselves were the same color. It must’ve been one of the ingredients for the sweets.

“Dean, how much of the candy did you eat?”

“Not enough to have a toothache or anything. Why?”

“I think I know who the witches are.”

You and Dean made it back to Mainstreet to go to the candy shop and before Dean could pull out his lock picking kit, you and Dean found yourselves in a fight with both Sean and Jaylah. Unfortunately the witches were the victors in the fight and after the two of you were knocked out, you both were taken.

When you came to, you and Dean found yourselves in the basement of their candy shop. You were both tied to some sort of pillar in the middle of the basement, your backs on either side of the pillar and your hands were tied against each other’s so your hands were bound to each others. You looked in front of you and you noticed there was a table with some potions, powders and some other ingredients. There was even an orchid plant growing in the corner of the room.

“What the Hell is all of this?” You asked and looked at the two of them.

“Well, we could ask you two the same thing. Sean and I knew you were hunters as soon as you two walked through the door.” Jaylah said as she started mixing up some ingredients.

“So the both of you were behind all the kidnappings? What for?” Dean asked as he struggled to break free of the restraints both of you were tied to.

“Sweetheart, how long do you think we’ve been alive? It’s not easy finding a youthful source when you aren’t as powerful as Rowena.” Jaylah said.

“You know Rowena?”

“Well yes and no. We knew of her but we never had much contact with her. She does have a bit of a sour reputation and all.” Sean replied as he was sharpening a knife.

“What did you do to the other couples?”

“Well they became a part of our ritual, that’s all.” Jaylah chimed cheerfully.

“But see our little spell doesn’t work unless the couples we use are truly in love. So anytime the holidays are around, we give people some free little goodie bags. One or two pieces of the candy have a little special something in them that will really show how people feel about each other.” Sean said.

“Some of the candies will have a little truth serum, and unfortunately it may cause a fight that couples don’t recover from especially if it’s something petty. Some candies did other things. But the couples that worth through the petty little argument we can tell are actually soulmates. The soulmates and the ones meant to last are the ones we need for our special ritual.” Jaylah added on.

“You missed one minor detail with us, we aren’t a couple.” You pointed out, “So why give us a bag?”

“Oh, hun… It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell when two people are meant to be together when you’ve been on this earth for literal centuries. You two may not be together in a romantic relationship, but the way you two have a certain chemistry just shows how perfect you are for each other.” Jaylah said.

“We’ve kept an eye on you ever since you left our shop.” Sean said, using a little mirror.

“We can tell Dean’s feelings for you are strong but he’s obviously not admitted to it yet. Still, we can tell he has some sort of ulterior motive for him to be on this trip with you. It’s a man’s natural urge to protect the woman he loves, no matter how strong that woman may be. It’s a matter of having your back. He’s destined to be your partner in life, to stand by your side in a fight. True equals as soulmates should be.” Sean said.

“And you, Y/N… You’re holding onto a past you can’t get over. Don’t you think that’s a little unfair to Dean when you know deep down your feelings for him are just as strong? You’re his voice of reason, his calm in the storm. He’s your anchor of stability, a tower or shelter where you feel safe when you’re most vulnerable. That’s why it was easy to talk to him about your little James problem. You can’t lie to yourself like that.” Jaylah said.

“Well, it’s a little late for them to do anything about it now, hun. We’re running out of time, so let’s get on with the ritual.” Sean told his wife.

You bit your lip, honestly scared you wouldn’t make it out of this. Sam and Elaine were off on their little vacation, Jody was in a different state, your other allies were unavailable and none of them knew you were on this hunt. Was this how everything would end for you and Dean? You knew that you would die in a hunt, most hunters did, but was it really supposed to come this soon?

Dean could tell you were freaking out just by how quiet you became, so he maneuvered his wrist as best as he could and he held both of your hands.

“Hey, we’ll be okay. We’ve gotten ourselves into worse, right?” Dean said and he could feel you squeezing his hands. He knew you were unsure and he knew deep down you were scared even if you’d never say it.

“Besides, these couple of witches are just some old bats. They could never beat Rowena even if they tried.” Dean said, starting to talk smack as sort of a distraction.

“I mean come on, what, you’ve got friggen flower shit in your candy? That is such rookie magic compared to what Rowena can do.” Dean said and Sean looked over.

“And what exactly do you know about the mystic arts, boy? Last I checked, hunters knew next to nothing about spells outside of summoning filthy demons to make deals.” Sean said.

That was when Dean could feel you begin to fidget on the other side of the pillar and he couldn’t help but wonder what the Hell you were trying to do.

“Don’t pay attention to him, Sean. Focus on the spell.” Jaylah said.

“Oh, because you don’t actually know much about spells either? Come on, what happens if this stupid little ritual of yours fail, huh? You two are just a couple of dust bags. Living for centuries? Damn, you should have died off forever ago.” Dean continued and he could feel one of your hands let go of his and he felt some movement on the rope.

That’s my girl…

��That’s enough, Kid. You’re getting on our nerves.” Jaylah said.

When Dean felt the rope break free from one of his wrists, he had to resist the urge to smirk. “Oh? And what the Hell are you going to do about it?”

When dean realized you handed him whatever blade you used to cut one rope, he kept his arm in place so the witches wouldn’t be suspicious of anything and as soon as Jaylah went over to him, she lifted a hand up and when she swung it down to strike him, Dean took the knife you handed him and stabbed her in the shoulder.

She screamed out in pain and held onto her shoulder and Sean rushed to her side to try and help her, “Don’t focus on me, Fool! Kill them! We need their blood for the spell, remember?”

Dean quickly turned so he could cut off the ropes from your other wrists and soon enough you were free only for Dean to get punched in the face by Sean who apparently listened to his wife and was already fighting Dean so he’d get the blood he needed. But apparently Sean was strong and he was starting to overpower Dean.

You got up and you went to grab your gun with the witch killing bullets but you heard Jaylah laugh, “You looking for this, Hun?”

You glanced over and you saw the female witch holding up both the pistols and you watched as she took out the witch killing bullets in one of the guns. You looked over and saw Dean was starting to lose the fight and you started getting worried for him and you rushed over and took a separate blade you had.

You went to Jaylah and dug your knife deeper into her shoulder and she let out a bloodcurdling scream and Sean looked over at you.

“You let Dean go. Now.” You said sternly as you pushed Jaylah down to her knees. Then you took one of the guns and aimed it at Jaylah’s head.

“Don’t listen to her, Sean! You and I know plenty of spells that will bring each other back! Just kill him already!”

“You harm another hair on his head, and I can assure you that with these bullets, your beloved won’t make it back no matter what blasted spell you use.” You seethed.

While Sean was stuck trying to think, Dean used his knife and stabbed Sean in the heart and gave the blade a twist. After that, Sean’s body fell to the ground and his corpse withered away to dust.

“Sean! No!” Jaylah screamed and you went ahead and pulled the trigger, killing the other witch before she could do anything else. Like her husband, Jaylah’s body quickly turned to dust as well.

You quickly rushed over to Dean to check on him since he was the one that was in more of a fight than you were, “Are you alright? He didn’t do too much damage, did he?”

You heard Dean laugh a little before he shook his head, “No, he didn’t. I’ll just be a little sore I guess. I’m getting too old for fights like that, I may need to do some stretches before we go in guns blazing.”

You chuckles as you helped Dean up from the ground and when he looked down at the blade you gave him, he grinned.

“This thing’s pretty damn cool. Where’d you get it?” He asked as he started to hand it back to you but you held your hand up to stop him.

“I got it from the antique store. I’ve got a feeling her husband was a hunter before he passed away. I thought you’d like it. So it’s yours.” You said and Dean looked down at it, noticing the engravings seemed similar to what he used in the witch killing bullets.

“A witch killing blade… sweet. Thanks, Sweetheart.” Dean said as he looked down at you and you bit your li a little before looking away from him.

“Yeah, well… just thought it would be something handy. Let’s get back to the hotel. It’s been a long day.” You said.

You were quiet on the way to the hotel room. A lot had happened when you were killing those witches. The way the two seemed to read through you made you wonder just how right they were about how Dean felt. Did he really have those feelings for you?

You had mixed feelings about the term soulmates. Sure you knew you had feelings for Dean, and they were right about you trying to deny them. But you never thought about the possibility of robbing Dean of yourself. You wondered if Dean felt like he was being robbed this whole time because you just couldn’t get over James. So many things were being put into perspective for you.

Then when Dean almost got killed by Sean, you knew in that moment that you didn’t want to lose him. You didn’t know what you would do without him. It was something you didn’t want to even think about.

When the two of you walked into the lobby of the hotel and went into the elevator to go to your room, you still remained quiet.

Dean noticed the silence and he was starting to get a little worried. Did he do something wrong on the hunt? What had you so quiet? Both of you came out of the fight relatively unscathed next to the bruise on Dean’s cheek but that was it.

“Is everything alright?” He asked you in a gentle tone. He didn’t want to make any advances just because of what a couple of witches said. He could never be sure of what they said about you was true.

If you really had feelings for him, wouldn’t you have shown them? Why did you bring up James so often if you really did have feelings for him? There was just too much uncertainty even though everything Sean said about his feelings for you were pretty much correct for the most part.

“Yeah… everything’s fine. Just have a lot on my mind right now.” He heard you reply. He knew that you were aware that you could always talk to him when you were ready, so he wasn’t going to push the matter like his brother would. So, Dean put a hand in his pocket and grabbed a piece of candy.

After all, the witches were dead so the sweets had to be harmless, right?

“Dean, you don’t know if those candies will kill you now that they’re dead.” He heard you tell him and he shrugged a little.

“I doubt they will. Plus you have to admit, they do taste pretty good.”

When the elevator made it to your floor, the both of you went to your room and it was quiet between the both of you. It was a little awkward, and neither of you really knew how to address the atmosphere. Maybe once the both of you got plenty of rest you could figure out how to tackle everything.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” You heard Dean say and you nodded a little and watched him leave to the bathroom. Then you glanced over at the bag of candy.

You couldn’t help but wonder… now that the witches were dead, what did the spiked candy do? Would it still ignite some kind of argument or would it do something else? So you walked over to the dresser and grabbed the bag and took an unopened piece of candy and popped it into your mouth.

It started off as some sort of truth candy right that would make couples fight? What else did it do? Maybe it wouldn’t actually be cursed anymore. And Dean was right, they do taste pretty good. You were growing a little more accustomed to the cinnamon taste it had.

You could listen to the shower running and you still couldn’t help but wonder how Dean really felt about you. But you were starting to come to terms with how you felt about him.

You gulped a little as you felt your heart racing. The more that you realized that you were in love with Dean, the more you realized that you had been a fool all of this time to keep feeling guilty about James. Dean was the bravest man you had known, and you were a coward as you hid behind what happened.

You lifted your gaze to the bathroom door and you bit down on your lip. A sudden wave of nerves washed over you as you tried to think of what you should do. You knew exactly what you wanted to do, but you were scared to do it, scared of how Dean would react.

You finally took in a deep breath before you kicked off your shoes and started making your way to the bathroom. You could hear Dean humming some Metallica song to himself in the shower and you smiled to yourself. He was adorable with the way he’d hum songs from his favorite bands.

You gulped as you carefully started to take off your articles of clothing, and to your surprise, you weren’t really cold since it was warm in the bathroom. Dean must’ve been using the warm water. You could feel your hands shaking and the butterflies were swirling around in your stomach since now you were naked, in front of the shower curtain and Dean was on the other side in the same state you were.

You slowly pulled the shower curtain back, and Dean turned around with a surprised look on his face as he quickly covered himself up.

“Y/N? What are you doing?” He asked and you gazed up into his eyes.

Without a word, you slowly stepped into the shower with Dean. You could feel the warm water hitting your skin as you closed the shower curtain behind you. Then you reached up and caressed his stubbled cheek.

“You were right…” you breathed out and you could feel one of Dean’s hands touch the small of your back.

“What are you talking about?”

“I need to get over James.”

Dean lifted a brow as if he needed some sort of further explanation for the sudden development.

“The witches were right too. Deep down I’ve always known how I’ve felt about you but… I let fear hold me back. And I can’t do it anymore. You were right when you said I was robbing myself, but I realize that, that I’m robbing you too.”

“Y/N, are you sure we should be doing this? Just because those bastards think they know is doesn’t mean we have to do anything you aren’t sure of.” He said.

“Dean, I’ve never been more sure of anything. I want you to help me forget about James and move on for good.” You said as you placed your other hand on his chest.

“I need you, Dean.”

Dean looked down at you and he could feel his heart threatening to break out of his chest, and he wonder if you could feel it under your delicate fingers. Then, he carefully leaned down and let his lips finally collide with yours and he closed his eyes.

The kiss started off tender, sweet even as he pulled you closer to himself while his other hand went to the back of your head and his fingers started to get tangled in your hair as it was getting wet with the shower. Then it slowly turned more passionate as he carefully took your bottom lip between his teeth and gave it a little tug.

The moment you let out a soft moan in response, Dean swore all of the blood in his system was rushing downward. He had no idea you’d sound so beautiful even from such a simple action and he kissed you again, harder this time.

You could feel him beginning to grow harder against your stomach as he kissed you deeper. When you could feel his tongue trace over your bottom lip, you carefully opened your mouth to let him in before wrapping your lips around his muscle and gave it a little suck. When you did, the deep sound he let out made your legs go weak.

Dean slowly backed you up against the shower wall, never breaking your lips apart and you could feel his hand go from the small of your back down to your ass as he gave it a little squeeze. You slowly moved your hand from his chest downward, letting your fingernails lightly scrape over his skin before your fingers brushed over his hardening member.

Dean’s breath got caught in his throat when he felt the way your fingers could barely wrap around him. When he parted your lips he looked down into your eyes and saw how adorable you looked with your cheeks flushed pink and your lips swollen from his kisses. Then he leaned down and started planting kisses from the corner of your mouth, down your jawline before reaching your neck where the kisses grew hotter.

You could hear him moan close to your ear as you slowly started to pump his shaft. Your eyes fluttered closed when he started to kiss your neck. You let our a soft noise when he found that certain sensitive spot and he gently bit down on it and started to suck on the skin and you knew there would be a bruise there. But as he worked on your neck, you could feel him part your thighs with his knee before he dipped his hand in between your legs.

Dean let his fingers glide through your folds and he let out a soft groan when he felt just how slick you were for him, “Fuck.”

He let his middle finger rub through your soaking core before it found your little bundle of nerves. The moment he found that little nub of yours, he could feel your fingernails dig into his shoulders as he started to rub little circles onto it. Your body started to tense up beneath his touch and he lifted his head from your neck and placed a kiss on your cheek.

“Relax, Sweetheart.. I’ve got you.”

His whispered words made you a little less tense and you reconnected your lips with Dean’s. As you continued to let your hand move up and down, you slightly tightened your grip and Dean moaned into your mouth. That was when you felt one of his fingers finally dip into your entrance, causing you to whimper a little and he smirked against your mouth.

When Dean gently pushed another finger into your entrance, you gasped at the stretch and Dean took the opportunity to let his tongue invade your mouth once more. You felt like it was nearly in the back of your throat and he was completely consuming you as you melted into his touch. You could feel him beginning to move his fingers in and out of your core and you couldn’t help but begin to move your hips into his hand to try and match his rhythm.

Just as Dean could feel your entrance tightening around his two fingers, he slipped a third in so he could reach into you deeper and he curled those three fingers inside of you as he picked up his pace.

“Oh fuck, Dean…” You moaned out and buried your face in the crook of his neck and he knew he must’ve found the spot that was making you see stars.

Your walls were clamping around his fingers tighter and he gently kissed your temple, “Go ahead, Baby. Let go. Cum for me.”

That was all you needed to hear from him before you finally had a release on his fingers, your thighs shaking as you felt Dean kiss your shoulder before he pulled his fingers from between your legs.

“Fuck you’re so gorgeous when you come undone…” he whispered into your hair but you moved your head to look up at him again.

“Dean… I need more…” You panted. Your body felt like it was on fire as it craved every little part of him. You needed him in every way possible; heart, body and soul. This need was more than you could fathom at the moment.

Dean looked down into your eyes and saw the look you had was sincere. He couldn’t bring himself to say no when he knew you desired him in the same way he’s craved you for so long. He reached over and turned off the water in the shower before he picked you up by your thighs and he felt you wrap your legs around his torso so naturally. He could feel your slick lips brushing up against his painfully hard member, which was making it incredibly difficult to focus.

He walked with you out of the bathroom and he felt your lips on his neck, which made his entire body feel hot. But then he carefully laid you down on the mattress and when he saw you laying there ready for him, he swore he was so close to losing all control. Every curve of you was more beautiful than he ever imagined and he was trying to let this image of you on the mattress become implanted in his mind.

Dean moved to where he was hovering over your body and he grinned at the way you spread your legs for him so he could settle between your thighs. He lifted a hand and caressed your cheek but then he bit his lip, “You’re absolutely sure you want to keep going?”

“I’m more than sure, Dean. You mean the world to me, and I want you to make me yours.” You said and leaned up, placing a delicate kiss on his bottom lip as you hooked one of your legs around his waist in order to pull him closer so he could get the picture.

Dean carefully pulled away from your lips as he wrapped his hand around his own length and guided it to your core. He listened to the way you let out a gasp when his tip brushed against your lower lips and he figured you must still be sensitive from your previous high.

He leaned down and he placed a kiss on your forehead before he slowly pushed his tip into your entrance and he heard the way you let out a soft hiss so he stilled himself so you could adjust to his size. But when he felt the way your hands gently slid up his arms and gave his shoulders a soft squeeze, he knew you were alright and he carefully slid more of himself into you.

Little by little, you were adjusting to Dean’s miraculous size until he finally bottomed out and he stretched you to the limits. The pain was already mixed with a sense of ecstasy. When you looked into Dean’s eyes, you felt nothing but pure love for the man, and that was the complete truth - so you supposed those candies still did their truth telling jobs. You knew that what you were feeling with Dean in this moment was genuine, whatever you had for James didn’t compare to this and you knew Dean was the man you wanted a future with.

You nodded a little to tell Dean it was safe for him to move, and the moment that he did you could feel him so deeply that the feeling was indescribable. You felt him in places that had never been touched by anyone, including yourself.

You had expected Dean to be rough with you, but you were pleasantly surprised at how much of a gentle lover he was at least for this first time around. As he moved his hips into yours, you raised your hips to meet his and you raised your head to kiss him again. You could feel his smile in the kiss and you felt like you were making magic of your own, no potions or spells needed.

Dean felt so intoxicated by your kisses and he felt so attached to you in a way he couldn’t explain. He’s waited for this moment with you for so long and he couldn’t believe it was really happening. He knew that with you by his side, he’d never have to feel alone in this harsh world filled with monsters and demons.

He moved his arms to where they went under your knees, lifting your legs over his shoulders so he could move into you at a deeper angle. You moaned into his mouth in such a pretty little way and he gradually started to pick up his pace. The noises your bodies made in this moment were better than his cassettes he played in the Impala and he never wanted to forget the sounds you let slip past your beautiful mouth.

This deeper angle was making you see stars and you could feel yourself starting to get to that high again, causing you to let out a high pitched little whimper against Deans lips before he parted from the kiss. He looked down at you and you felt so hot beneath his loving gaze.

“Go ahead and touch yourself, Sweetheart.” He encouraged and you nodded as you let your hand slip between your legs.

You hadn’t realized just how wet you were until you touched yourself, causing your cheeks to burn and turn into a deep red before you started to rub little circles onto your clit as Dean continued to move into you. You could feel him start to move his hips a little harder, causing you to close your eyes and moan out his name.

“Open your eyes, Baby. I need to see you.” You heard him say and you could feel one of his hands float to your own and he intertwined your fingers while holding your hand beside your head.

You opened your eyes and tried to focus on keeping your gaze transfixed on the man above you, “D-Dean, I’m so close.”

“It’s alright, let go when you’re ready. I want to see you come undone all over me.” He said and he gave your hand a soft squeeze of reassurance.

The next thing you knew, your vision went white and you moaned out his name with so much pleasure washing over you. You gripped his hand tightly as Dean carefully helped you ride out your second climax. You body was trembling with pleasure and your eyes fluttered shut as Dean placed soft, loving little kisses all over your shoulder and neck.

“You did so well for me, Sweetheart. That was beautiful. You’re so stunning.” He praised, making the butterflies swarm in your stomach in a different way this time.

When you slowly opened your eyes again, you carefully reached up and touched his face and he leaned into your touch before you spoke, “It’s your turn, Baby… I want you to cum inside me.”

Dean faltered for a moment and his cheeks and tips of his ears turned bright red, “You want me to what?”

“You heard me, Dean… I want every part of you in me. Please, fill me up.” You said and let your thumb caress his cheekbone.

Dean heard the way you asked him so sweetly and he swore you were going to make his heart explode. He leaned down and kissed your mouth, not needing you to urge him more as he started to move his hips once again. He could feel you part your lips from his and wrap your little arms around his neck as you started to place kisses on his skin.

“Fuck, Y/N…” He muttered as his hand went down to your hip and he pinned you down against the bed to hold you still as he quickened his pace. He could feel the way your walls clamped around his length to tightly. Then, after a few more movements of his hips, he leaned down and his head was hidden in the crook of your neck as he held onto you tightly as if he never intended on letting go as he coated your inner walls white and he pushed his hips into you one final time as he moaned deeply.

You could feel the way he was spilling himself inside of you, filling you to the brim and you gently held onto him. You let your hands gently scratch his back as you kissed his broad shoulders to try and calm him down from his high. You felt so content in this moment with him as you just held onto him. You could hear the way he was panting and you chuckled softly since you were out of breath too. Then you moved your head as best as you could to kiss his temple.

“You’re so perfect, Dean..” You whispered against his skin and he carefully lifted his head from your neck and tucked a strand of slightly sweaty hair behind your ear.

“Not nearly as perfect as you are, Sweetheart.” He smiled down at you and you grinned.

“You know… I think that was the first time I’ve actually made love to anyone.” He admitted and you started to feel a little bashful.

“Maybe those witches were onto something. Maybe we’re soulmates after all.” You giggled breathlessly and Dean chuckled.

“Whatever this was.. is… I think it’s better than any kind of magic those bastards could have conjured up.” He said, which caused you to chuckle again as you snuggled int his chest.

“The sweetest kind of magic.” You said.

You knew that with Dean, it would gradually get easier to let go of your regrets and your guilt of past relationships. He was always there to listen, he had become your confidant, the one person you could rely on more than anyone else and this was exactly what you imagined this feeling you had would be like.

Falling in love like this was a better feeling than you ever could have imagined and you knew you had fallen for the right person after all.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @fanfic-n-tabulous @hobby27 @jackles010378 @nancymcl @prettyinplaid94 @chriszgirl92

[rispwr]

Hate you - chapter 3 - J.JK

Pairings : ex! Jungkook x ex! Reader

Notes : didn't get to do my word goal again:(( will definitely do it again next chapter. we don't talk anymore by charli puthh "what kind of dress you're wearing tonight, if it's holding onto you so tight, the way i did before"

Genre : Ex2L, angst, slow burn, fake dating, slice of life, fluff, e2l, corporate rivals, smau, smut

Sypnosis : ‘You were always told that hating someone is the only way it doesn’t hurt but what if you can’t hate him? No matter how hard you try your heart will always find it’s way to his’

2 years after breaking up with your boyfriend of 2 years you were finally on your way to become the ceo of your family’s company your rival turns out to be your ex.

Contents/warnings :

Misunderstood break up, insecurities, mentions of self harms or mental health issues, jk is mean at the start, yelling, sensitive language or words, mentions of family trauma, corporate au, smart (both), mentions of yoongi x oc, mentions of cheating, soon to be ceo! Jk, soon to be ceo! Oc, oc is still named Y/n or {__}, corporate rivals?, fake dating, lack of communication, death of a character, mentions of suicide attempt. not proofread

series masterlist

Can't believe this

February 10, 2027 — Present Time

You’d decided it was finally time for Yoongi to meet your mother. His calm demeanor and unwavering support had been your anchor during some of the toughest times.

Your fingers were laced with his, the warmth of his hand grounding you. The two of you looked effortlessly coordinated in matching blazers—his in classic black, yours in a crisp white.

As you reached the door, you took a deep breath and pushed it open.

And then you saw him.

Jungkook.

He was seated next to your mother, deep in conversation, his voice low and composed. His hair, once a warm chestnut brown, was now jet black, styled into a sleek, elegant mullet. It framed his face perfectly, the strands slicked back with precision. His right arm rested casually on the table, the sleeve of his shirt rolled up just enough to reveal the intricate tattoos that snaked up his skin.

This wasn’t the Jungkook you once knew. He carried himself differently now—poised, polished, and every bit the powerful CEO.

Your heart clenched, a mixture of shock and betrayal surging through you.

“Mom?” you said, your voice cutting through the quiet hum of the room.

Both your mother and Jungkook turned to face you, but it was your mom who spoke first. “Oh, Y/N, dear. I was just about to tell you about our new brand deal—”

“No,” you cut her off sharply, your tone icy. “I don’t want to, Mom.”

Your mother frowned, a flicker of disappointment crossing her face. “Y/N—”

Before she could continue, Jungkook stood, his dark eyes locking onto yours. “Y/N, listen—”

“It’s Ms. Kim Y/N to you, Mr. Jeon,” you snapped, your voice sharp and unyielding.

Yoongi shifted beside you, clearly sensing the tension. “Uh, maybe I should step out—”

“No, no, Yoongi,” you said quickly, your tone softening as you glanced at him. “It’s fine. We’ll be out of here soon.”

Jungkook’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing. His gaze flickered briefly to Yoongi, his expression unreadable.

Your mom sighed, attempting to mediate. “Y/N, this partnership could be beneficial for both companies. Jungkook’s team—”

“I don’t care,” you interrupted, your voice firm. “We don’t need this deal, not if it involves him.”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air.

Jungkook’s face remained stoic, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—regret, perhaps, or frustration. “Understood,” he said finally, his tone even.

Without another word, you turned and walked out of the room, Yoongi following close behind.

Once you were out in the hallway, Yoongi gently squeezed your hand. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

You nodded, though your heart still raced. “Yeah,” you said quietly, looking up at him. “I am now.”

I gathered my bag and slid out of the car with his help, the cool morning air brushing against my face. Adjusting my blazer, I turned to him and said, “I’ll be out late, so don’t wait for me or pick me up. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a respectful nod. His stoic expression didn’t waver, but I knew he’d make sure everything was handled as usual.

Just as I was about to step inside the building, my phone buzzed in my hand. It was Yoongi. I couldn’t help but smile as I answered. 

“Heyyy, wanna go out tonight?” he asked, his tone playful.

I hesitated for a moment, remembering the plans I’d already made. “Well... I kinda have plans with Namjoon and Sana tonight at the club,” I admitted. “But you can come. Can you?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said without missing a beat. “Pick you up or just stay at your place?”

“My place,” I replied, knowing it would be easier that way.

“Alrighty. See you, pretty,” he said smoothly, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“See you,” I said, hanging up.

I slipped my phone back into my bag and walked into the towering office building. The lobby was sleek and modern, filled with employees and visitors. I walked confidently across the polished floors, my heels clicking rhythmically as I made my way to the private elevator reserved for executives.

Once I reached my floor, the familiar scent of fresh coffee and crisp paper greeted me. My assistant, Sejun, was already waiting by my office door, his usual clipboard in hand. He was a sharp dresser, his navy suit perfectly tailored, and his hair neatly combed back.

“Good morning, Ms. Kim,” he greeted me with a polite bow. “Someone sent you a letter. It’s on your desk.”

I raised an eyebrow. “A letter?” It wasn’t often that I received personal mail at the office, especially in this day and age.

“Yes, it was hand-delivered this morning,” Sejun explained as he opened the door for me. “It seemed urgent.”

I hummed in acknowledgment, stepping inside my spacious office.

I sank back into my chair. After all the training, coaching, and pressure to step up as CEO, I’d finally started to find a rhythm that felt… right. There was satisfaction in this work, a sense of control I hadn't experienced before. For months, I'd felt buried under the weight of everyone’s expectations. But now, as I glanced around my office, I felt the slightest glimmer of pride.

With a small smile, I gave in to a rare moment of relaxation, spinning slowly in my chair. Just as I was beginning to feel settled, something caught my eye. A sleek,brown, small envelope lay on my desk, standing out starkly against the polished white surface. I frowned. The name on it was written in bold, elegant script:

To: Kim Y/N, CEO of RNT Inc. From: Jeon Jungkook, CEO of GCF Productions.

My heart dropped as I read his name. Jungkook. After everything, after years of hurting me, he was reaching out now? My fingers hovered over the envelope, hesitant, but curiosity won. I picked it up, feeling the weight of the paper in my hand, the texture rich and smooth under my fingertips. Slowly, I slid my nail under the seal and pulled out a letter, already bracing myself for the frustration I knew would come.

The very first line felt like a slap to the face.

Dear Y/N, the love of my life.

A harsh, bitter laugh escaped me, almost involuntary. "Is he kidding?" I muttered to myself, rolling my eyes. He had to be joking. This was the same man who’d walked away without a single explanation, leaving me to piece together the wreckage of my heart on my own. Yet here he was, casually calling me "the love of his life," as if that title could erase everything that had happened between us.

Taking a breath, I continued reading, my fingers gripping the edges of the paper.

I wrote this letter back in December 2025, almost a year after we broke up. Well, after I broke up with you. I know what I did could never be justified, nor will it ever be okay, and I’m writing this to tell you I’m truly sorry.

I’ve spent every day since hating myself for how I hurt you. I couldn’t even bring myself to face you and say it out loud. I was selfish, Y/N. I was only thinking about myself, my fears, my insecurities. But the truth is, losing you was the biggest mistake of my life. I know I didn’t deserve you then, and I probably never will. You deserve someone better, someone who can love you fully and without hesitation. I was never that person, and for that, I’m sorry.

A slight tremor ran through my hand as I lowered the letter, blinking back the prickle of tears that threatened to gather. So that was it? That was all he had to offer? An apology scratched out on a piece of paper, years after he'd torn me apart? I felt a strange mix of rage, sadness, and exhaustion welling up in me as I reread his words.

I’d spent countless nights trying to understand why he’d left. I’d gone through every possible reason in my mind, analyzing each argument, every little moment that might have led him to walk away. And here he was, admitting to being "selfish," "insecure," and telling me he’d "made a mistake." But it wasn’t enough. I needed more. I needed an answer that made sense, something to validate the pain I’d gone through.

I let out a shaky breath, the frustration building inside me. His "explanation" was just a reminder of how deeply he’d scarred me. All those moments I’d doubted myself, the insecurities that had crept in because I thought I wasn’t enough for him. And now, he was telling me that none of it had been my fault? That he’d just been... scared?

I felt a surge of anger rise, mingling with the hurt I’d buried over the years. “So that's it, huh?” I muttered to myself, voice edged with bitterness. “You just get to come back and apologize? You get to ‘hate yourself’ for what you did, and that’s supposed to be enough?”

Another part of the letter caught my eye:

You deserve someone better, someone who can love you fully and without hesitation. I was never that person.

My eyes narrowed as I read those words. I didn’t need someone to tell me what I deserved—I’d worked hard to find peace, to rebuild myself without his validation. I’d made it to where I was now because I had pushed through the heartache, and I refused to let him swoop back in and disrupt the life I’d built for myself.

My gaze drifted to the windows, the city skyline gleaming in the afternoon light. This was my world now—a world I’d crafted from the pieces he left behind. And the more I thought about it, the angrier I felt. He had no right to just appear out of nowhere and stir up these emotions, no right to force me to relive the pain I’d worked so hard to bury.

I glanced down at the letter one last time, reading the final lines, feeling the bile rise in my throat.

If I could go back, I’d have done things differently. But I can’t change the past, Y/N. I know you might never forgive me, and I understand. I just needed you to know how sorry I am. You deserved better, and I’m sorry I couldn’t be that for you.

With a bitter laugh, I folded the letter neatly, my fingers pressing down on the creases with a sharp finality. “You’re sorry?” I whispered to the empty room. “No. It’s too late for that.” My voice trembled with the weight of years of bottled-up resentment.

For a brief second, I considered crumpling the letter, letting it join the discarded pieces of him I’d long since cast away. But instead, I placed it back on the desk, staring at it with a cold, unfeeling gaze. Jungkook could write all the letters he wanted. He could regret everything he’d done, but he’d never be able to undo the damage he’d caused.

“You miss your mommy, huh? How about me? Don’t you miss me?” he said in a playful, high-pitched voice, scratching behind Cosmo’s ears. My dog wagged his tail enthusiastically, clearly enjoying the attention.

Smiling to myself, I crept quietly toward the couch, leaning down to wrap my arms around Yoongi’s shoulders from behind.

“Y/nnn!” he whined in surprise, tilting his head back to look at me.

I laughed, planting a quick kiss on his cheek. “Surprised you, didn’t I?”

He huffed, a small pout forming on his lips, before breaking into a grin. “Cosmo misses you,” he said, pointing dramatically to the dog. “And this person too.” He jabbed his thumb toward his chest.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, you’re funny,” I said, shaking my head. “Let me get ready, and we can head out to the club?”

“Sure,” he replied, leaning back into the couch. “Which club is it, anyway?”

“Oh, Namjoon just opened a new one nearby,” I said, making my way toward the bedroom. “It’s called Serendipity.”

“Cool,” Yoongi said, his tone casual. “Leave it to Joon to pick a name like that.”

--

After finishing the final touches on my outfit, I stepped out of the bedroom, feeling confident. My eyes immediately met Yoongi’s, who was leaning casually against the armrest of the couch. His gaze softened as he took me in, a small, appreciative smile curving his lips.

“You’re always beautiful, babe,” he said, his voice low and warm. He pushed off the couch, closing the distance between us. “You know, I was thinking…” His hand reached up to gently brush a strand of hair from my face. “Maybe we could just stay home tonight? Just you, me, and Cosmo.”

I crossed my arms, giving him my best pout. “Yoongi,” I whined. “This is the opening night. Namjoon will kill me if I don’t show up.”

He chuckled softly, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my pouty lips. “I’m just kidding,” he said, his laughter rumbling against my cheek. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Besides,” he added with a wink, “I can't wait to see the new club anyway.”

at the club 

“Babeee! You made it!” Namjoon grinned, pulling me into a quick hug. Sana followed, giving me a playful nudge before turning her attention to Yoongi. She stepped back, arms crossed, and eyed him from head to toe, a teasing glint in her eyes.

“Ohhh, so you two are together now, huh?” she said, raising an eyebrow at me.

“Well, not exactly yet,” I admitted with a small smile, glancing at Yoongi, who simply shrugged with his usual calm demeanor.

Sana leaned in closer to him, lowering her voice. “Listen, Yoongi,” she said, her tone light but with an edge of protectiveness. “You know what her ex did. He broke her, left her shattered. If you even think about pulling something like that…” She smirked, “Let’s just say you’ll be picking up your pieces from the floor.”

Yoongi didn’t miss a beat. With a playful grin, he gave a mock salute. “Understood, ma’am. Won’t let you down.”

Sana laughed, giving him a soft punch on the shoulder. “Good. I like this one,” she said, turning back to me. “Don’t mess it up.”

Namjoon chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, Sana, let the man breathe. Y/N’s got good taste.”

We made our way deeper into the club, finding a table near the center. The place was packed, people swaying to the beat under the shimmering lights. Namjoon leaned in, his voice barely audible over the music. “You might want a heads-up,” he said. “A lot of important people showed up tonight.”

“Oh? Like who?” I asked, taking a sip of the cocktail Sana had handed me.

Namjoon hesitated for a moment, then said, “I’ve got a new partnership lined up. They’re interested in using the club as a film set.”

“Really? That’s amazing!” I said, genuinely impressed.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his expression slightly cautious. “It’s with GCF—Golden Closet Film Productions.”

The name hit me like a freight train. My smile faltered as my grip tightened around the glass. GCF. Of all the production companies, it had to be his.

“That’s…interesting,” I said, keeping my tone neutral, though my heart raced.

Namjoon noticed the shift in my demeanor. “Are you okay?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

Before I could respond, a familiar figure stepped into view. The air seemed to thicken around us as Jungkook made his entrance, his confident stride drawing attention. His sharp suit and slicked-back hair.

He didn’t notice me right away, but when his eyes finally landed on our table, they locked onto mine.

The moment Jungkook’s face came into view, panic surged through my fading consciousness. He couldn’t get my company, and now he had to come after Namjoon’s? My mind spiraled, and the pounding music faded into the background. My vision blurred, and before I could process what was happening, my legs buckled beneath me.

The world tilted, and everything went dark.

When I came to, faint voices surrounded me. My head pounded, and the bright lights overhead stung my eyes. Slowly, I began to piece together what had happened. I was lying on the floor, my body weak and heavy. As my vision cleared, I saw three men hovering over me.

Yoongi was the first to catch my attention, his face etched with worry. His hand rested gently on my shoulder, his voice calm but firm as he whispered, “Y/N, stay with us. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

Namjoon was on my other side, his brow furrowed in concern. “Breathe, Y/N,” he said, his voice steady but tinged with panic. “You’re going to be fine. We’ve got you.”

And then there was him. 

Jungkook.

 The one person I never expected—or wanted—to see like this again. His face was pale, his hands trembling slightly as he checked my pulse. His eyes, usually so confident and cold, were filled with something I hadn’t seen in years—genuine fear.

“Someone call an ambulance!” Jungkook’s voice cut through the noise, sharp and commanding. “Now!”

I blinked slowly, my vision flickering in and out. I could feel Yoongi’s grip tighten protectively, as if shielding me from the man who now knelt beside me.

“Y/N, wake up,” Jungkook pleaded, his voice softer now, almost desperate. “Please.”

Why was he here? Why was he acting like he cared? The questions swirled in my mind, but my body betrayed me. I was too weak to push him away, too drained to tell him to leave.

The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me again was Yoongi glaring at Jungkook, his jaw clenched, as if silently telling him to back off.

But Jungkook didn’t move. He stayed right there, holding my hand, as if he had any right to.

The ambulance raced through the city, its sirens blaring as it made its way to the hospital. Inside, tension was thick in the air as Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook all hovered around me, waiting for any sign of movement. The nurses worked swiftly, checking my vitals and preparing me for transport.

One of the nurses, a woman with a no-nonsense attitude, looked over her shoulder at the three men. "So," she began, glancing between them, "what are your relations to the patient?"

Namjoon spoke up first, his voice steady but tinged with concern. "Uh, I’m her best friend. Kind of like a brother, but we’re not family... just very close."

Before the nurse could respond, Yoongi interrupted, speaking with an air of calmness that didn’t match his inner turmoil. "I’m her... partner. We’re not exclusive," he said, his eyes still on me.

The nurse raised an eyebrow, but she nodded, jotting something down on her clipboard. Then her gaze shifted to Jungkook, who had been unusually quiet until now. "And you?" she asked, her voice neutral but probing.

Jungkook hesitated, his eyes flicking to me before he finally answered. "I’m... her ex." His voice faltered just a little, but he didn’t look away, clearly uncertain of how to explain himself.

The nurse gave a quick nod, her expression unreadable as she continued her work. "Alright, noted," she muttered

Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook all nodded in unison, their faces still drawn with worry.

As the nurse made her way to the front of the ambulance, muttering something under her breath, it was clear she wasn’t too keen on this complex situation. "Tough," she mumbled, not entirely directed at them but loud enough for all of them to hear.

The other nurse cleared his throat, breaking the awkward tension. “We’re almost at the hospital. Just hang in there, alright?” He gave a reassuring smile before turning his attention back to the equipment.

at the hospital

"Okay, it seems like her vitals are stable," the doctor began, "but it appears there may be an underlying issue—more psychological than physical. I suggest she undergoes a check-up with her psychiatrist."

He paused, looking from Yoongi to Namjoon, then to Jungkook. "Does she have any psychiatrist or—?"

Before he could finish the sentence, Yoongi spoke up, his tone calm but firm. "Yes, she has a psychiatrist, and a therapist as well," Yoongi added, as if it was no big deal, but the words seemed to hang in the air, carrying an unexpected weight.

The doctor nodded in acknowledgment. "Good to know. I'll make a note of that," he said, before turning back to the charts.

Meanwhile, Jungkook's eyes narrowed, shooting Yoongi a quick glare.

Is he trying to rub it in on me that he has her or what? 

Jungkook thought, feeling the subtle sting of jealousy. But he kept his thoughts to himself, watching as the others focused on the doctor.

The doctor continued, "I'll send the nurse in with the medication and a prescription."

Namjoon, who had been mostly silent up until now, spoke up, his voice tinged with concern. "Is there anything she should avoid or...?"

The doctor looked up, his expression softening slightly. "Avoid stress, skipping meals, too much screen time, excessive caffeine, and salty foods. That should help, at least for now," he advised. "She will be discharged tomorrow once she wakes up. We’ll keep monitoring her overnight."

Yoongi and Jungkook, both clearly anxious and equally invested in my well-being, bombarded the doctor with questions at the same time.

"When should she take the medication?" Yoongi asked, his voice urgent but trying to remain composed.

Jungkook jumped in right after, his tone sharp with impatience. "And how much should she take? Should we be worried about any side effects?"

The doctor looked between the two, raising an eyebrow at the sudden competition for answers. It wasn’t lost on him how the situation was unfolding. "It’s really up to her, but I recommend following the instructions on the prescription. If you’re both helping her, make sure she stays hydrated and follows a good routine," he said, handing over a piece of paper with the details. "Just keep an eye on her mental health. That’s the priority right now."

Namjoon, who had been standing back a little, exchanged a quick glance with Yoongi. He couldn’t help but chuckle lightly under his breath. "I think the doc's right, you guys. She needs care, not a competition," he joked, trying to break the tension.

"Where am I?" I mumble, still feeling dizzy.

And then it hits me, my confusion turning into full-blown panic. I sit up quickly, my head spinning, my eyebrows furrowing in frustration. "what the fuck is happening?" I yell, completely freaking out. My heart is racing as I try to slap myself, muttering under my breath, "This is a dream. This is a dream." I say it enough for them to hear me, hoping I’m just imagining this whole nightmare.

Before anyone can respond, I hear the doctor’s voice, soft and nonchalant. "Alright, I think it’s time for me to go out," he mumbles, and the door clicks shut behind him.

I stare at the empty doorway for a moment before scoffing bitterly. My emotions are spiraling out of control. I turn my attention to Jungkook, the rage bubbling up inside me. "Wow. Just—just wow," I say, pointing a shaky finger in his direction. "You! You took two, three and a half years to finally show up in my life again?? Are you trying to ruin my life or something?" My voice is shaking with anger, every word feeling like it’s tearing me apart.

"Y/N," Yoongi tries to calm me down, but I don’t want to hear it.

"No! This is all stupid!!" I yell, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me. My hands cover my face as I try to stop myself from breaking down. I can’t hold it in anymore, and I let out a frustrated yell. "Fuck! You guys should’ve let me die there!" The words slip out before I can stop them, too raw, too real, but they’re there, and I hate myself for saying them.

"I’m sorry, Y/N..." I hear Jungkook’s voice, but it only makes things worse.

"No. Save your fucking sorrys," I snap, cutting him off, my heart pounding in my chest. "When you can finally man up and tell me why the fuck you left me, and what was your reason for it, then maybe I’ll listen to your sorry. Until then? You won’t be hearing a fucking word from me."

"fine!" I watched as Jungkook stormed out of the room, his blazer in hand, his anger vibrating through every movement.

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[into-the-grey]

~Tightrope~

Noah x F!Reader Fic

Summary: I got sick, and he left me here. Am I really too broken to be loved?

W.C: 4.7k

Taglist: @anything-more-than-human @blend-in-with-the-madness @rumoured-whispers @thisbicc

Warnings: sadness, angst, disability, medical topics, possibly incorrect medical info, depiction of cardiac emergency, talk of overdose.

PLEASE UNDERSTAND, I'm not glorifying disability. I'm venting. The disability depicted in the story is my own, and it pisses me off to no end some days, so I wanted to write a lil about it and make something cathartic.

Masterlist

I'd watched him countless times on that stage. I'd watched him psych himself up, getting ready to give the performance of his life every single time. I couldn't help it, he was magnetic. Something about the mysterious person he became when he stepped out into the eyes of the people, it's like he became this untouchable being, the king in his castle.

I'd watched him despair when he couldn't do it. Whether he'd blown his voice out, or he burned himself out trying to do everything all at once. His house of cards had come tumbling more than once, but never enough to bring everything to an end. Every time, I watched him build it back up, meticulous in his method.

I watched him learn, grow, and evolve. And every step he took, I took with him. I wanted to be there, supporting him like a good friend does.

And then I got sick. And then I fell apart. 

I didn't get cancer, or some kind of terminal disease, it wasn't that dramatic. It was simple, yet so frustratingly limiting. My body wouldn't agree with me, forcing me to stand still when I wanted to run with him on his ever upward trajectory. All because of one small malfunction in my hardware.

My heart. Literally. A tiny piece of scar tissue, likely caused by a dumb choice I'd made when I was younger involving some Lexapro and an ex-boyfriend's snide comment, had begun to generate its own electric current. Because, in case you didn't know, that's how your heart works if you dumb it down. Little electric currents run across it and stimulate the different chambers, starting at the top and ending at the bottom. Humans create our own electricity, and that's what keeps us alive. Neat, huh?

When it works the way it should, sure. 

But mine didn't anymore. This stupid piece of scar tissue was generating its own current, and it made my heart beat out of sync. It was scary as hell when we first found it. I couldn't breathe, and my heart was pounding in my chest. I tried so hard to play it off as anxiety, I didn't want anything to be wrong with me. But Noah...

He called the ambulance; he held my hand through the scans and the blood tests and the ECGs. He stayed with me in that hospital for four days while the doctors decided how bad it was and what to do with me. He held my hand when they told me the prognosis. He celebrated with me when they told me I wasn't in immediate danger, and he kept me calm when they told me the risks.

Yeah. Apparently, it's not meant to be dangerous, and it's an easy fix. Mine didn't want to be easy. Mine was infuriating, because while it was only a minor problem and an easy fix, the wait for the surgery was never ending. I had to live with it, and the medication, and the anxiety, every single day. I hated every moment of it.

Feeling defective isn't easy. You feel like everyone is looking at you like you're about to break. It makes you think you might, that you're this fragile thing, one breath might knock you down. And the side effects of your body not working...

You lose muscle tone, you gain weight because you can't go to the gym anymore, your skin gets aggravated from lying on pillows all the time...

You spiral, because the world goes on without you while you're waiting to be fixed. You want to run with them, but you can't. You want to be a part of it, but any odd feeling in your chest scares you. You spend so much time in hospital because doctors always say "It's probably nothing, but just to be sure..."

And then when you see the people you care about, you're not you anymore. You're different. You feel ugly, you feel like a freak. Like this broken doll, cast aside and waiting until someone comes along with a needle and thread to fix you.

Noah had to keep living though. He went on tour, he ruled his kingdom, and when he came home from his tour, I swear he looked at me with pity. It broke me. I was his friend, and suddenly it was like he didn't know how to talk to me anymore. It was like he was worried that almost every topic would upset me, or trigger me, and nothing I said could change it.

If I could have gotten drunk over it, I would have. Stupid fucking medications.

We didn't speak for a while. I felt so alone. Sometimes I caught the three dots in our conversations. He'd type something, think better of it, and delete it. It hurt more every time.

He was the one person who I never thought would see me as something broken. I wondered if maybe the weight I'd gained had embarrassed him, even though it wasn't much. I wondered if maybe I just wasn't the person he wanted to be seen with anymore. 

I just wasn't enough, I guess. Maybe I never had been.

Swallowing the crush I'd had on him when we were teens was hard enough, but this? I couldn't swallow losing him like this. Not over something so fucking stupid.

So, I texted him, asking if he was busy. And thus, the ball rolled.

Hey, are you doing anything? - Y/N

Not at the moment, what's up? - Noah

I was hoping I could talk to you about something. Can I call? - Y/N

Of course, is everything okay? - Noah

Not really... - Y/N

Should I come over? - Noah

Your call, I'm fine either way - Y/N

I'm on my way, be there in 15 - Noah

A part of me rejoiced, seeing that he could still read me. 'Your call' was once a distress signal for the two of us. A sign that we were sinking alone, and we needed a friend. He'd been the one to start it, and it stuck.

So, he did, I waited in my apartment for Noah's truck to pull up in the visitor's spot outside. While I waited, I ran through everything I wanted to say to him. I tried to figure out how to say it to him. Part of me wanted to beg him just to see me how I once was, to look at me without the pity in his eyes. Another part of me was tempted to tell him that if he couldn't, he could go fuck himself.

I couldn't do that though. I'd miss him too much.

I wrapped myself in my knitted blanket, curled up on the couch with a pillow in my lap. The Great British Bake Off played on my TV, filling the room with a warm hum of sound. To an outsider, the room full of plush pillows and soft blankets seemed welcoming. The pictures on the walls were cozy, and the black suede couch begged to be reclined on in luxury.

To me, it was home. In the same vein, it was hell. 

This apartment had become my prison. I had nowhere to go anymore, nothing to do. Normally when I wasn't at work I would bounce back and forth between the studio and Noah's house, or I'd be out on adventures with him and the band. Since getting sick, I'd been stuck here. I worked from home because my boss was too afraid something might happen to me in the office. He framed it as a generous offer, trying to be kind and thoughtful, but I knew he just didn't want to deal with the insurance paperwork if something did happen.

I had spent months in this solitude. I had nothing to break up the monotony of my days. I thought being disabled was bad enough, the depression that came with the isolation only made things unbearably worse. All I saw every day were the same four walls, the same programs, the same rooms. I was getting cabin fever and there was nothing I could do about it. The most I ever left home for was groceries and doctor’s appointments. Not exactly a thrilling existence.

So, when I saw the headlights illuminate my curtains, a part of me lit up. It was sick how excited I got at the idea of a visitor. I was like a puppy hearing their owner come to the door, practically unable to hide the vibrating eagerness in my chest.

Noah's truck rolled smoothly through the parking lot and into the visitor parking on the other side of my living room wall. The joys of ground floor living, I saw everything that happened in the complex.

The truck door slammed, and his footsteps trudged along the stamped concrete, making his way to the buzzer at the security door. The steps seemed slow, almost unwilling to be there. For a moment I wondered if I should tell him to go home, that it was nothing and he didn't need to worry about it.

Instead, I stood up and shuffled my way over to the intercom by my front door. The panel lit up with a video feed as the bell chimed. I saw Noah standing by the door, his feet shuffling awkwardly in his sneakers while he kept his hands jammed in the pocket of his hoodie. His head hung, staring at the concrete while he waited for me to let him in.

I could have lifted the receiver and said something. A long time ago, I would have made a joke, I might have said something vaguely pervy like "ooh, you look better when you're awake," and he would have laughed. Instead, I silently pushed the button to unlock the door. He reached for the handle, yanking it open. I heard the click in the hallway as the video feed shut off, and I opened the front door to my side.

His oversized form dawdled toward me, his head still down and watching his shoes. Everything about his stance screamed that he wanted to turn around and go home. It had my stomach sinking as he grew closer.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes were ringed with purple bags. He looked exhausted. He looked at me with a tired smile, nodding at me. 

'Hey,' he said quietly. 

'Hey,' I said, pulling the blanket tighter around my shoulders and smiling weakly. I stepped to the side, letting him step into the apartment. He slunk past me and headed straight to the couch, plopping down and patting the cushion, inviting me to sit beside him.

The front door swung closed, and I twisted the lock before joining him on the couch. Turning the TV off, I shifted to face him, choosing to rip the Band-Aid off. Seeing his hollow eyes made it harder, but I was determined.

I swallowed, balling my hands into fists beneath the blanket and hanging my head. 

'You've been avoiding me,' I said flatly. 

Noah froze, leaning back and shifting his position. He turned, one leg bent on the couch and the other foot on the floor while his hands hung in his hoodie pocket. I watched him open and close his mouth a few times, clearly caught off guard by my words.

'I...' he stammered out, unable to finish his sentence. He was going to say he hadn't been, but he couldn't lie to me like that. He'd never been able to.

'I wish I could say it's okay, but I can't help wondering why,' I said, chewing on my lip as I looked at him. It was out in the open now, and I felt the weight in my stomach. My heart pumped hard in my chest, the sensation making me nervous as I monitored the beats. 

'I didn't mean to,' he said quietly. 'We were busy, and things slipped, and I didn't know how to come back.'

I shook my head. 'Noah, I know you. Distance has never been an issue for us, and it's not like I'm across the country this time. I'm right here, and you haven't come to see me. You won't even text me back. It's like you don't want to be around me-'

'I do, I swear,' he cut me off, his hands tensing in his pocket. 'I just...'

'You just what?' I probed, trying to keep my voice steady. My throat tightened, and my voice threatened to crack. 'You don't want to be seen with me anymore? I gained weight and I got boring-'

'No!' he said, shaking his head and freeing his hands from his pockets. 'God no! I don't care about any of that, you know I don't! Why would you ever think that?'

'Because I feel like that?' I shot back. 'I feel like this damaged thing, and no one knows what to do with me. You backed off when I got diagnosed. It makes sense that this stupid thing is the reason. So, what, you're scared I'm gonna drop dead? You think I'm broken? You think it's too much to handle? To gross to look at?'

The words spewed fast, and Noah's face fell as I spoke. He watched as my breath came quick and I stumbled over my tongue. He reached for my hands, fishing for them in the blanket and taking them in his, holding them tightly.

'I just feel like this burden that no one wants to bear. People treat me like I'm made of glass, and they're too scared to handle me. Or like I'm not me anymore. It's fucking lonely, Noah. You were meant to be my best friend, and you fucking disappeared on me. Tour is one thing, but no calls? No texts? It's like you think I died.'

Noah shook his head, shuffling closer.

'I didn't mean to; I swear to you-'

'So why?' I coughed. All too aware of my own body, my chest ached, and my stomach turned. The defective organ screamed at me, and my brain begged for calm. The odd palpitation in my chest rang alarm bells in my mind, scaring me worse. Had I worked myself up into another hospital visit? That was the last thing I wanted. I needed answers, not more pity.

'Because I was scared. I still am. But not for the reasons you think,' Noah finally admitted, hanging his head in shame. His thumbs ran over my knuckles, my skin pale compared to his inky works of art. His hair hung like a thin curtain in front of his eyes, hiding his expression from me.

'Why, Noah?' I begged. 'Because if this is forever, I need to know. I need to be able to stop hoping we'll go back to how it was.'

'It's not forever,' he told me, his voice low. 'It wasn't even meant to be this long. I got scared because when I saw you that way, I didn't know what to do. For the first time ever, it was something I couldn't handle.'

'There's been a lot of things you can't handle,' I said, squeezing his fingers in mine. 'I don't expect you to be able to handle everything.'

He nodded, lifting his head and shaking his hair from his eyes. 'I know, but I couldn't fix this. I can't fix this. That scares the hell out of me. The idea that at any moment, you could go blue again and your heart might fuck up in a way that I don't understand... I was so sure I was about to lose you, Y/N...'

'So, you pushed me away instead?'

He nodded again; his lips tight as his eyes glassed over. 'I know, it doesn't make sense.'

'It does, but it still hurt. Out of sight, out of mind, right?'

'I guess,' he said. His shoulders slumped. 'God, I'm such an asshole. I made this all about me, and you're the one in danger.'

I rolled my eyes. 'That's the thing, Noah. I'm really not. Sure, I have to be a little more careful and I can't have caffeine anymore, but I'm still me. I'm not dying, I'm not going anywhere, I'm just waiting until they can fix me so I can do the things I used to do.'

'I wish I could get that through my head,' he sighed. 'I wish I could stop seeing it. That night...'

That night. The night it all went wrong.

I didn't think anything of it. I'd been messing around with the guys, throwing things and playing keep-away with Noah's phone. We'd been joking about some girl he'd been texting, making kissy faces at him and pretending to text her back.

Noah tackled me onto a beanbag, taking me down with a hard thump as the beanbag slid across the floorboards and up against the wall.

His arms were around me, grappling for his phone. I let him have it, lying breathless and curled up against him. We laid together, everyone laughing and joking as Noah pretended to be mad at us.

He got his breath back quickly, but mine didn't come. It wasn't until five minutes later that we realised I was still panting. 

'Are you okay?' Noah asked jokingly, rolling to his back and pulling me into his lap. He leaned to look up at my face, his hand on my back.

'I think so, I just don't have super strong singer's lungs like you,' I joked. Looking back at him, that was when I saw the nerves. The panic in his eyes would haunt me forever.

His hand flattened on my back, the guys freezing as they looked on.

'What's going on?' Ruffilo asked, furrowing his brow.

'Noah...' I said slowly, getting nervous. The pounding in my chest felt heavier now, like I was being punched from inside my chest, but its rhythm was off. It felt like fluttering, and the longer I sat up, the worse it felt.

'She's going pale dude, get her on the floor,' Ruffilo blurted. 

Noah moved fast, lifting me from his lap and laying me down on the floorboards. He knelt by my side, taking my hand and holding it tight. His eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open while he silently pressed his hand to my chest.

'Something isn't right,' he said, fishing his phone from his pocket and lifting it to his ear.

'Noah, what are you doing?' I coughed, my chest heaving. 

'Just try to stay calm, okay?' he said, his body language completely going against his words. 'Something's wrong, I'm calling an ambulance.'

I didn't argue with him. I didn't dare. If Noah said something was wrong, then something was clearly wrong. 

The phone didn't ring for long, and he asked for an ambulance with a hitch in his voice. He rattled off my name, my age, and the address to the dispatcher, all the while holding my hand for dear life.

'She's breathing really heavily,' he told them, ‘And her heartbeat feels wrong. I had my hand on her back, and it felt like it was skipping.'

I laid still, a chill seeping through my body at his words. Something was wrong, and it was with my heart. The organ that's meant to keep you alive. The most important part of a human body, and mine was malfunctioning.

I barely noticed my breathing speed up, I felt like I was going to be sick. The cold feeling prickled my skin, a cold sweat breaking out on my face while I screwed my eyes up. My ears began to ring, Noah's voice suddenly sounding far away. 

The urge to throw myself into a sitting position was almost impossible to ignore, but I knew Noah would only pin me down. He wasn't about to let me go anywhere.

'Noah,' I whimpered, trying to hold onto whatever composure I had left. My grip on his hand was iron clad, holding it for dear life.

'Y/N?' he called to me. Footsteps began to rush around the room, but they sounded like they were underwater.

My vision darkened, and I strained to look at Noah. It hurt to look, but I was determined to keep my eyes on him.

'I can't...' I tried to say, but my whole body had started to shut down on me. 

'Y/N,' Noah called again, squeezing my fingers tightly, 'come on, Y/N, stay awake, stay with me.'

I wanted to. I wanted so badly to stay with him. But my body had other ideas. 

I felt my fingers loosen in his, the strength fading. I felt him grip tighter. I heard his panicked cries as they distorted into static. I saw him scream. I saw the world close in around his wide eyes. I felt the heavy footsteps rattling the floorboards beneath me.

And then, nothing.

That night.

'That night was my anxiety getting the better of me, Noah,' I said softly, the familiar flush of shame in my cheeks. I had thought about it a lot too. I hated the idea that Noah saw me like that. I hated the idea that he had to watch my brain shut me down because I was too scared. It was mortifying.

'It was more than that, Y/N,' he argued. 'I was sure you were gone. I thought that I'd...' he stopped himself. I knew the look. His eyes flitted between his hands and the carpet, pursing his lips tightly. Whatever he was going to say, he'd never said it out loud before.

My eyes stung. Seeing him like this, it broke me. He'd been holding on to something, dealing with all of this alone. Just like me. 'Talk to me, Noah, please,' I begged.

He drew in a deep, shaky breath, his teeth sinking into his lower lip while he debated if he should admit it. 

'I thought I'd killed you. I thought maybe we'd been roughhousing too hard, and that maybe tackling you was what caused all of this,' he finally said. 'I haven't been avoiding you, I've been avoiding the guilt, because every time I look at you, I see you on the floor again. I see you barely breathing, and it feels like it was my fucking fault-'

I threw myself at him, pulling him close in a crushing hug. My blanket fell from my shoulders as his arms wrapped around me, hesitant to squeeze back.

'Noah, for fucks sake, hug me, I won't break,' I demanded, feeling the way he trembled. As if waiting for permission, his arms tightened, holding me in a way I hadn't realised I'd missed so much.

'I'm so fucking sorry,' he said, burying his face in my hair. 'I'm so sorry.'

'This isn't your fault, Noah, you know that,' I soothed, inching closer to him. 'We know why this happened, and I did it to myself, remember? I was an idiot.'

'I know, but I fucking left you when you needed someone. You needed me and I wasn't here, just like last time-'

'You are not blaming yourself for that, are you?' I asked, pulling back and looking at his face. His bloodshot eyes met mine, his lips pursed shut in a tight pout. 'Noah,' I said, 'do you really blame yourself for me being a fucking idiot?'

'I didn't answer the phone,' he said. 'If I had, maybe you wouldn't have done it.'

'Fuck, Noah, no,' I shook my head, my whole body sinking. 'It wasn't your fault. None of this is your fault. I overdosed because of Josh. He's the one to blame here, not you. He played me like a damn violin, and I walked straight into it. Thats why this happened. I did the damage, and it came back to bite me.'

'But Josh wouldn't have even been a problem if I'd said something,' he said weakly.

'Are you gonna have a rebuttal for everything?' I asked, a sad smile on my face as I reached up, brushing away a tear that fell down his cheek. 'I'll debunk it all, man. Come on, what would you have said?'

Noah smirked at me. I was glad to see my pathetic attempt at bravado could ease his pain a little. It made my heart settle somewhat. His eyes seemed to sparkle, and I finally saw the familiar face of my best friend looking back at me instead of a gloomy stranger.

I chuckled pathetically, tears running down my own face. 'Come on, what would you have said?' I repeated, stressing the words. 'That he was a jerk? That I could do better?' I goaded, 'or maybe that he was only using me to get to you, you big headed egomaniac-'

'I would have told you that I loved you.'

It was my turn to freeze. His face turned to stone, betraying no emotion. He watched as I processed what he had said, his gaze lowering to my chest as if he could see my heart through the skin.

My blanket pooled around my hips, and I felt exposed without it around my shoulders. Despite the shiver that ran through me, I didn't move to cover myself.

'You could have said that,' I said timidly, 'but would you have meant it? Or would you only have said it because you knew I had a crush on you? like using my feelings against me to protect me?'

Noah moved slowly, his hand running up my spine and letting my reactions guide him. His face drew nearer to mine, and another cool chill ran through me. This time, it was pleasant. My breath stuttered as he closed in on me.

'I can't lie to you about something like that, remember?'

'So why didn't you say anything?'

'Because I didn't think you saw me that way. You looked at everyone but me.'

A nervous gasp hit my throat as his eyes bored into mine. I had dreamed of this for years, swallowing every feeling and living in shame for so long.

'And you looked at everyone but me.'

'Not true,' he contested. 'When you weren't looking at me, I was always looking at you. You were all I saw. You've always been what I want. That's why it broke me to think I was losing you; to think I'd done this to you. I thought you deserved better.'

My breath caught in my throat, my fingers tracing down his cheek and resting on his neck. My heart thundered in my chest, and for once I was okay with it.

'And what do you think now?' I breathed.

'I think that I want to be the man you deserve,' his low voice whispered, our faces so close I could almost taste him. 

'You always have been.'

I leaned closer, gently pulling him closer to me. His lips met mine tenderly, barely touching.

'Don't be scared,' I breathed, 'I won't break.'

He huffed a soft laugh. 'You're sure?' 

I nodded, thumbing over his jaw. He grinned, kissing me properly. His lips pressed against mine and his hand nestled into the nape of my neck, holding me to him in desperation. I smiled into the kiss, my body alight with sensation as he ran his fingers into my hair.

I twisted my fingers into his hoodie, needing to feel him against me. He gladly took the hint, propping himself onto his knees and turning to lay me down on the couch. Our lips only parted long enough for him to find his place over me and settle me against the cushions. 

His body laid over mine, the pressure welcome against my lonely skin. His fingers glided over me, running from my hips to my jaw while I tried to commit his lips to memory.

'Noah,' I breathed between kisses. 

'Sorry,' Noah stopped, hovering just over my face and eyeing me with concern. 'Too much?'

'God no,' I shook my head with a giggle, 'I'm okay, but I wanted to tell you something.'

'Oh?'

'I missed you.'

He smirked at me, pecking my lips again. 'I missed you too.'

'I'm glad you came over tonight.'

'So am I.'

[mosaickiwi]

(Sorry if i sound rude since english is not my first language 👉👈) 

I love your writing so much btw thank you for providing us with top tier quality writing, the way you write rendacted is just 🤌😍

I dont know if its allowed since its kind of specific, but can i please request a fluff/comfort for an insecure chubby angel that's not confident with their body and strech mark so they kinda doubt that rendacted really love them and thought they only playing with them and only dating for fun or smth 👉👈 😳 

Thank you soo much in advance (for the ping too) (≧∇≦)/

Thank you and you're welcome!! I love to cook this silly man 🥰 Appreciate da request <3

self loathing angst but it's just angel getting too deep in their own head

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Shorts

After a few weeks of dating, somehow [REDACTED] still smiled at you the same way. Still had that look of wonder and joy whenever you spoke. Still let their hand linger in yours for a second too long each time you parted ways.

As happy as he made you, you couldn't trust them just yet. 

Part of you was waiting—you'd been waiting the whole time—for everything to come crashing down. That’s how it always ended. You were surprised things even lasted this long.

He was sitting out in your shoddy living room while you changed for a date at the pier. As you looked in the mirror, your decision to wear shorts seemed like a mistake now. The horrid, uneven lines that patterned the skin of your thighs only made the choice worse. 

Of all the places to choose to live, it just had to be near the beach. You barely got by with loose shirts and pants for a while, but each day was more hot and humid than the last this summer. You couldn't go out like this. Let alone have him see all those flaws that glared back at you from your reflection.

Your heart thudded in your ears as you contemplated changing into something else. But you could feel it. The moment you'd been dreading was going to happen no matter what. Sooner or later they'd break up with you. What was the point of waiting for it? You could get it over with now, while you were in the comfort of your own home.

A few minutes of familiar, agonizing, embarrassment, then straight to bed for a pity party and a movie once your soon-to-be-ex left. Nothing new.

There was nothing else to do but face it. You breathed in and out at a steady pace to calm your nerves, then crept into the hallway. Despite the care you took, a floorboard creaked before you rounded the corner into the living room.

“Ready to go?” In an instant [REDACTED] was calling your name, draining away the confidence you held. You couldn’t bear to look up as he approached—to see that soft smile you loved fall into a frown. His footsteps were quiet, and you soon felt the warmth of his presence in front of you. “What’s wrong?”

Their voice never wavered in disappointment like you expected. It made your heart skip a beat like always, calm and gentle as he was with you. He was even concerned, reaching for your hand at your side but stopping short when you managed a few words.

“It’s nothing,” you mumbled. 

“Doesn't seem like nothin’, Angel. We don't need—” Whatever they were trying to say slipped right past you as fear set in.

Why was he treating you so nicely? Was the room too dim for them to see? Did he not see everything wrong about you on display? It didn’t even sound like they noticed the stretch marks. You weren’t sure what to do. Nothing was going the way it had with previous partners.

Arms cautiously wrapped around your now trembling form as he pulled you close. The sudden hug shocked you long enough to realize your cheeks were wet. And that he was rambling.

“—Upset you. If y’don't feel like goin’ anymore that's fine. We can stay here ‘til y’feel better. Or would you rather I leave? Get you somethin’? That store you like should still be open—” He took a step back.

You weren’t calm enough to speak, but desperately hugged your partner back when he tried to move away. They stopped immediately. A soft breath tickled your forehead, and the smallest sigh left him in relief.

“... Fuck. Had me worried there,” he whispered and tenderly kissed the crown of your head. “Should I stay then?” You nodded. Minutes passed in silence as he stroked scarred fingers through your hair to soothe you, occasionally murmuring quiet reassurance.

You couldn't see why he wasn't disappointed. His attempts to calm you weren't in vain, though.

Finally, you felt as if you could manage. “I thought that…” It was hard to say out loud when you clung so tightly that your face was pressed fully against his chest. You pulled back and sniffled. A small, damp spot on his black shirt got left behind as evidence of your tears. “Oops.”

The dark haired man let off a smile at your reaction and gently pried, “Thought what?” 

You bit your lip. Lying wouldn't do you any good. “I’m not that nice to look at,” you eventually admitted.

He frowned to himself, then gently cupped your tear-stained cheek. “You’re absolutely beautiful, you know?”

“Oh… um.” 

“Really. I promise I don't want anyone else." His blue eyes were dripping with clear adoration. "I’d stare at you all day if y’let me, love.”

The pet name had you at a loss, completely flustered. He never called you that before. “Can you really be sure?” Your voice got quieter and quieter as you tried to explain your worries further. “I just feel like…” With each word, your gaze drifted to the side in fear of his reaction. “You should've, uh… broken up with me by now?”

“Angel, I'd never even consider—” He cut himself off. "... ‘Been doin' a shit job of expressing m’self, if that’s what you’re thinking.” [REDACTED] hardly gave you a chance to react before he was leading you to the couch. He sat down, lacing his fingers through yours as he pulled you to sit in his lap. It felt more intimate than usual with his other hand resting on your bare leg. “I’ll get whatever you want at the pier tomorrow. Right now I need to make sure y’know how important you'll always be t’me.”