#this is the longest work i've written in a long time

[eternalbuckley]

Together. — aemond targaryen

SUMMARY: Aemond and you still love each other even if you weren't together anymore. So what happens if you're hanging out with your shared group friends and he invites you to a drink in his apartment? You might end up tangled with each other in his bed and talk about your feelings the next morning.

word count: 5,658

genre: slight angst with fluff, smut with plot | afab!reader, queer!reader, bipoc!reader and plus-size!reader friendly

warnings/tropes: modern au, 18+ MDNI!! NSFW (this part is divided with dividers so you can skip the actual smut part if you want), p in v sex, no use of protection (wrap it up folks thanks), cunnilingus, creampie (again, use protection), descriptions of alcohol use, mention of tipsy reader and aemond, slight cursing, use of they pronoun once, english is not my first language, slightly proofread — if I forgot something, please let me know!

a/n: it's my first time writing p in v smut, so please bear with me, i'm still trying to figure it out! this entire fanfic turned out to be the longest piece i've ever written lmao.i hope you'll enjoy it <3 reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated and highly welcomed!

disclaimer: please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work or post this anywhere without my consent. do not translate my work and post it anywhere — i give you no permission to do that. i only post my stories here, so if you find my work anywhere else please let me know!

18+ MDNI divider by cafekitsune

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The breakup between Aemond and you was mutually decided. Both of you were quite busy with your jobs and barely had time for each other anymore, which ended in a lot of arguments. Many of them were based on miscommunication or if anyone of you felt like the other one wasn’t giving them enough attention and love. This was the reason why you both mutually decided to break up after you’ve been together for a few years, both of you thinking it was the best decision during this time.

You still loved and cared for each other, but it wasn’t the right time to be with each other, as each one of you had a stressful period of your life, and the constant arguments outweighed most of the soft moments between you. You tried to be each other’s support, but it ended up in the opposite way during this time. It was clear, to everyone who knew you, that you two were still longing for each other over the months since you broke up. You tried dating other people in hopes you could fill the void that has been there ever since you parted ways, but it didn’t work out for either of you.

Aemond and you shared the same group of friends, or at least shared a few friends that hang out together every two to three weeks. Two times you and Aemond invited the people you were seeing to hang out with your friends. Meaning you and him would see each other as well. This didn’t work out quite well because the people you were seeing noticed how you and Aemond constantly looked in each other’s direction. They quickly realized that neither Aemond nor you stopped loving one another or knew that you still had some sort of feelings for the other one, even if you both tried to ignore or deny it, you knew the truth.

Your friends noticed this longing dynamic between you two ever since you told them that you decided to part ways for now. No one could say that they didn’t see the longing stares both of you had whenever the other one wasn’t looking, or the gentle touches you had on each other from time to time that were just lingering quite too long for friends.

Many times, Aemond would ask his sister, Helaena, who was one of your closest friends, if you had already found someone else or how you were doing. Especially if he noticed that you seemed off one day you and your friends hung out, he’d immediately try to find a moment to get to text or talk to Helaena alone and ask her about it. If she was able to tell him something, she would give him a few details. And you would do the same if you noticed something different about him and asked Helaena most of the time. Sometimes you would go to Aegon, in hopes that he hopefully might know something. It would depend on the situation. It was hard to ignore or deny that you two still deeply cared about each other.

Both of you were currently hanging out with your friends again, sitting next to Helaena and having your legs over hers as you laughed with her. Watching the boys as they turned on the fire of the campfire. Aemond sat opposite from you and Helaena and tried not to look over at you too much and to focus more on the conversation he had with one of your friends. It was a cozy and quiet night; everyone was having a good time. Helaena excused herself for a moment to get herself another drink as you took a swig from your own bottle. You noticed how she slightly nodded in Aemond’s direction as she went back into the kitchen of the house. A few seconds later, you saw how he slowly walked over to you.

“Can I sit down?” He asked with a soft tone in his voice and motioned to the seat next to you. You looked up to him and nodded, slightly scooting to the side to make more room for him to sit down. Your arms brushed against one another as he sat down next to you, sending a slight shiver down your spine, but you tried to play it down and didn’t pay attention to it.

You took another swig from your bottle, even if it was almost empty. You could have gotten up to get another bottle, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment with Aemond. You haven’t really had any conversations with him in the past few weeks, only having your eyes on each other. It was quite a comfortable atmosphere between you, as you watched the fire and listened to its crackles, but he had his eyes on you, admiring you as the fire cast a beautiful light on your face. He reached out and removed something from your hair, causing you to look at him for a moment, slightly confused. But in the short moment his fingers brushed over your hair sent a warmth through your body.

“It was just a tiny bug,” he tried to keep his voice low. Your lips turned into a small smile, “Thank you.”

Neither of you really knew what to say, you wanted to have a conversation with him, but you didn’t quite know what you could talk about. You could have asked him about his life, what he was up to at the moment, but you weren’t sure if he was even ready to talk about it.

As you wanted to ask something he got pulled away by Aegon. “Sorry, my lady,” he had his hands on Aemond’s shoulders and grinned, “I need my brother for a moment! He will be back at your service in a moment,” he giggled, clearly drunk as he dragged Aemond away.

You sighed with a smile on your lips and didn’t stop him, sometimes it was hilarious when Aegon was drunk. Occasionally, you wished things were different, but it was what you and Aemond had decided, so you must stick with it. You slowly nodded to yourself and got into the house to get another bottle, joining Helaena and completely missing the way Aemond longingly looked over to you as his brother talked his ear off.

A few hours later, you were talking with Helaena again, sitting together with Aemond on a bench in front of the campfire. He sat next to you, and you felt the warmth of the flames and his body, it was a pleasant feeling that filled you. His arm was resting behind you on the backrest of the bench you were sitting on. Helaena left you and Aemond alone for a moment after she had finished her story.

When she left, he slightly leaned into you and whispered into your ear, his voice casual. “Would you mind joining me for a drink back in my apartment?” He was nervous about how you would react. He already expected that you would refuse him, but he raised his eyebrows for a short moment as you accepted his invitation. Aemond cleared his throat and nodded, happy that you said yes.

A few minutes later you and him said your goodbyes to your friends. Helaena had a smirk on her lips as she hugged you. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do with my partner, babe,” she teased you and whispered into your ear.

He was slightly nervous as he led you to his car and opened the passenger side for you. You occasionally looked at each other during the drive to his apartment but didn’t really talk with each other, perhaps both of you were too nervous?

One drink turned into two, and two into three. Both of you were slightly tipsy by now and were talking with each other as if nothing had ever happened. You sat next to each other on his couch, and he had one arm on the backrest, resting behind your head. Your legs were slightly bent in his direction. You noticed the way he looked down at them sometimes, and you wished he’d just grab them, but both of you knew that neither of you would dare to cross the line without completely knowing if the other one wanted it too. But you both wanted it deeply. The conversation died down between you a few minutes ago, you’ve just looked at each other. The air had already been thick before, but it was getting worse in that very moment. You found yourself looking down on his lips, and he did too. Both of you leaned into each other but stopped when you were only a few movements away from each other’s faces. Should you really give in to what you’ve wanted ever since you broke up all these months ago or not?

You felt his breath on your face and just wanted to give in, you wanted to feel his lips on yours so badly. You could swear you stopped breathing when he carefully brushed your hair out of your face and cupped your cheek, you leaned into his touch and held his gaze.

“Aemond…” You dared to break the silence with a shaky whisper. You craved his touch, as much as he craved yours. Your lips were parted as your gaze went down to his lips.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want it,” he looked up from your lips into your eyes to find any hesitance, but he saw the way your pupils dilated as he held your gaze again. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered eagerly and hummed as he immediately captured your lips in a passionate and desperate kiss. Both of your tensed shoulders relaxed eventually,

His hand still cupped your cheek, stroking it with his thumb, your hand found his cheeks immediately and pulled him into you, while his other arm, which was resting on the backrest of his couch, wrapped around your waist to pull you into his lap. You straddled him and deepened the kiss as both of you opened your mouth to feel each other’s tongue, completely losing yourselves in the kiss. It’s what you’ve both been craving, and neither of you wanted to stop the moment. You didn’t want to think of the possible outcome or how it would change the current dynamic between you two, maybe you would find your way back to each other or it wouldn’t change a thing. Maybe it would just stay at making out with each other, but both of you wanted and needed more.

He missed to feel your skin against his, the way your curves felt when he traced them. The way you’d always react to his touch, arching your back whenever his hand found its way between your thighs. The way you always reacted to his kisses, whether it was a more heated or soft and slow kiss. You loved each of them, and so did he. Aemond loved the way your hands felt on his skin, the way you’d always end up tracing his arms, hands or face whenever you cuddled or were next to each other. He appreciated and missed these moments with you. It may only have been a few months since you two broke up, but the more intimate moments between you had been missing way before you eventually parted ways.

Both of you slowly pulled away from each other, faces still close as you spoke against his lips. “Are you sure we should be doing this?” You whispered, your voice slightly raspy from the lack of air in your lungs. Both of his hands had found their way to your hips and gently circled his fingers on your clothed skin, squeezing your skin.

He nodded. “I… I just need you, darling. I’m sure,” his voice was low and raspy as well. His good eye filled with desire as you looked at him and kissed him again. “Me too,” you whispered between kisses.

Aemond lifted you by gripping down on your thighs and placed you underneath him on the couch. He pulled away from you with a cheeky smile and kneeled in front of you as he pulled you on the edge of his couch. His hands roamed over your thighs to the button of your pants. Aemond looked up to you, slightly asking if he could continue. You nodded and didn’t break eye contact with him as he slowly opened the button of your pants and motioned for you to lift your hips so he could pull off your pants. His gaze never left yours, and he noticed the way you had your lower lip between your teeth as you lifted your hips eagerly, knowing what would follow. His fingers gently traced over your now exposed skin. His lips found the skin of your hip bone, which was still covered only seconds ago. His eye closed for a moment to capture this moment in his mind.

He pressed open kisses on your covered and uncovered skin, “I missed this so much,” he mumbled as he firmly but also gently gripped down your thighs while looking up at you again, silently asking if he could part your legs. You slightly sat up and parted them, causing him to smirk and move between them. His hands brushed over the flesh of your thighs and caressed them as he slowly moved them up to brush over your panties. Your breath hitched as he brushed over your still-clothed heat.

“Please, Aemond,” you whimpered as he teased your clothed clit with his finger while a smirk was on his lips. You hated how desperate you were for him, but you finally needed to feel him again. In every way you could have him. “Don’t tease me now.”

“Very well,” he hooked his fingers with the fabric of your panties on your hips and slowly pulled them down. You lifted your hips again, so it was easier for him to take your panties off.

A soft hum left his lips as soon as he tossed your panties away and saw your already glistening heat. He leaned down and pressed more kisses on the area of your heat, but not where you needed him. It frustrated you, and that made him chuckle. He always used to love to tease you, but he knew it wasn’t the perfect time for that right now, as it only tortured him as well. He couldn’t wait any longer and just wanted to get his mouth on you, his growing bulge in his pants could wait for a few moments. He wanted to give you the pleasure first. A moan left your lips as soon as he pressed his lips on your clit and made eye contact with you again. Aemond took a long drag through your slit with his tongue, your mouth stayed slightly open. He groaned into you as you grabbed one of his hands that were still on your thighs and held on to him as he devoured your cunt. He missed those pretty sounds that left your lips, especially how you tasted. For a short moment his mind went completely blank.

He started sucking on your clit and licked through your folds, causing you to tighten your grip on his hand, nails digging into his skin and your moans to get louder. He flicked his tongue in long and slower licks and changed the technique every so often to a faster and shorter pace. Completely devouring everything he could get from you. You didn’t even think about keeping it quiet, as it was overwhelming to feel his tongue on you. All the build-up tension over the past months is finally being relieved. Who would be better than him? No one.

You felt the all too well-known knot in your stomach, signalling that you were close to your climax. Aemond knew you were close as he noticed the way your panting increased, and your head fell back against the backrest of his couch. You cried out for more and wrapped one of your legs over his shoulder, which caused him to moan into you.

“Fuck– Aemond, I’m close! I…” Your grip on his hand tightened even more, if that was even possible, your back arched, and eyes closed as you focused on the building pleasure in your stomach.

“Don’t hold yourself back, darling. Come all over my face,” he panted against your cunt and got his mouth back on your swollen clit to sloppily circle his tongue around it, savouring each second while being between your thighs. Your mind turned blank as he continued to pleasure you, he still knew how to take care of you perfectly.

A strangled moan left your lips as you came on his tongue a few moments later, your legs slightly shaking as he fucked you with his tongue through your orgasm. Aemond could swear he almost lost his mind as he heard your moan and tasted you on his tongue, his hips humping into his couch. A soft chuckle left your lips as you exhaled and looked down at him. He was still kneeling between your legs, and his chin was glistening with your arousal and some of his spit. After you gained some strength again, you leaned forward and kissed him while your hands were on his cheeks, moaning as you tasted yourself.

“You did so well for me,” he praised you with a whisper as he pulled away from the kiss. “Can I take you to my bed or do you–“

“Please,” you nodded eagerly with a hushed voice, “Please do, Aemond.”

He gently picked you up, his hands digging into the skin of your thighs and placed open kisses on your exposed neck as he carried you into his bedroom, kicking the door as you were inside to close it behind him. He carefully placed you on his bed and hovered over you as he continued to kiss your neck and jaw. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and pulled on it, he moved his head away from your neck so you could pull off his shirt. You tossed it somewhere into his room, not caring about where it landed and traced his chest tenderly. He captured your lips in a kiss, his hips slightly buckling against you as you wrapped your legs around his hips to pull him closer to you. You took off the rest of your clothes from each other in a few motions, leaving both of you naked as you straddled his lap. His hands roamed over your thighs, caressing them as you leaned down to leave kisses on his chest while feeling his length underneath you.

He sharply inhaled as you wrapped one hand around his aching cock and stroked him a few times which already left him gripping down on your thighs, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. You smirked because of his reaction, you understood how he felt and eventually positioned his tip at your entrance and slowly sank down on his length, feeling how he stretched your walls. A low, needy moan escaped both of your lips, your hands on his chest, holding him down on his mattress, and his were holding you by your hips. You waited a few moments before you started to roll your hips, finding a pleasant rhythm for both of you. Aemond was completely at your mercy, it took him his entire strength not to come immediately. The sounds you made and how your hands roamed over his torso only added more levels to the pleasure he felt because of you. His body shivered, and his heartbeat increased. He felt you clenching around him and groaned with a hitched sound.

“Fuck you feel so good, darling,” he moaned. Your gazes met again, and you wished you could stay like this for eternity. His face was flushed, his back slightly arched, and his mouth agape as he didn’t hold back any sounds anymore.

This only reminded you of the beginning of your relationship, he barely voiced any hints of his pleasure and barely made any sounds whenever you slept with each other, but over the time, he let his walls down and started to be more vocal. This meant the time you were apart didn’t change that factor about him, and you loved it even more. You slightly leaned forward, feeling him deeper inside of you and grabbed his hands to intertwine your fingers, the slightly changed position adding more pleasure to both of you.

You continued to roll your hips and to hold eye contact with him, moaning his name repeatedly. After a while, you pulled him up against you, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as you captured his lips in a heated, passionate kiss, and he wrapped his arms around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stopped moving for a short moment, enjoying the close and intimate moment between you as you kissed each other. He lifted you from his cock in a quick movement, both of you whimpering at the loss of each other. He rolled on top of you and gently placed you underneath him, your legs on either side of his while he slowly slid into you again and captured your lips in a kiss again. A soft gasp left your lips, and he used the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. He held him up with one arm while the other held you by your hip and thrust into you with a steady, slow pace. He swallowed your moans as he continued kissing you. You gripped on his biceps, leaving crescent marks in his skin and had your eyes shut.

He fastened his pace as he felt you clenching around him.  “I can’t get enough of you, darling,” his voice hitched as his climax neared, “I don’t think I can go much longer.”

Skin slapping against each other, and moans filled the room. He nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck and placed sloppy kisses on there as his hips snapped against yours. You knew he was getting close to his climax as his movements were getting sloppier. He tried to hold on, wanting to get you close for a second time the night, but it only left him whimpering against your lips as he kissed them.

“You can come inside me, Aemond,” you panted, your eyelids half-lidded as you met his gaze. “Are… Are you sure?” His breath hitched in his throat. He groaned after you nodded and lifted his head, so he could look at you as he thrusts into you once more before you felt his seed filling you up, his cock twitching inside of you.

He had a satisfied expression and moved one hand between your bodies, his thumb rubbing on your clit to get you over the edge as well while he continued to thrust into you. A cry left your mouth, and you pulled his face close to yours.

“Come for me, angel,” he exhaled.

You clenched around him, which caused him to whimper from feeling slightly overstimulated as you came shortly after him all over his cock, your legs shaking and moaning. He continued to pound into you in a slow pace to help you ride out your climax. Both of you tried to catch your breaths from the pleasure you both just felt after months of not feeling it both of you fucked out. With a low whimper, he slowly pulled out of you, and collapsed on top of you, your arms wrapped around him. Both of your bodies were covered in sweat and were heated up, your chests heaving. His face was in the crook of your neck, your fingers gently tracing his back, which caused him to get goosebumps. He occasionally placed soft kisses on your neck while he gently traced the sides of your body. After a while, he got up and helped you to get up, holding you as your legs slightly gave up for a short moment.

“Do you want me to help you clean up?” Aemond asked, a tender tone in his voice, but you shook your head. “You can wait in your bed for me,” you smiled at him affectionally, which he happily returned. He was happy that you would be staying over the night. He gave you his shirt so you could go to the toilet after he made sure you were able to stand. When you came back, he already laid in his bed and waited for you to join him. He pulled the blanket over you and him.

Neither of you said anything and just enjoyed the moment while it lasted, even if it meant you wouldn’t speak about it the next morning and act like you just didn’t have your best sex in a long while. Both of you wrapped your arms around each other as you slowly drifted off to sleep. You and I finally had a good sleep after months again, laying arm in arm felt right. And it was right, was it?

A soft hum left your lips as you slowly woke up the next morning, feeling completely comfortable but slightly sore. Your eyes immediately opened and widened as you realized where you were and what you did last night with Aemond. Your back was turned towards him with his arm loosely over your waist. You let out a quiet sigh and slowly wiggled yourself out of his grip, trying not to wake him up. After you successfully got out of his bed without waking him up, you noticed that you were wearing his shirt. As you picked up your shirt, you quietly left his bedroom and got dressed after you picked up your panties and pants that were in his living room. You put his shirt on the backrest of his couch as memories from last night flooded your mind. The pleasure you felt, god it was so fucking good. You missed him and how well he always treated you and exactly knew how to get you over the edge quickly, but what if he regretted it? You didn’t want to face him or the situation, you were afraid of what could happen when he would wake up.

You deeply inhaled and made your way to the door to put your shoes back on, took your handbag and were ready to leave without saying goodbye. But you sighed as you grabbed the door handle.

What if this night was a sign for both of you? What if that was the sign that you were ready to be with each other again?

You cursed yourself, took off your shoes again and left your handbag on the floor next to them. You were willing to see what could and would happen as soon as he would wake up. You decided to wait until he did, waiting on his couch. Saying you weren’t nervous would be a lie. While you waited, you paced his living room a few times, thinking about what you could possibly say to him.

You nervously waited almost an hour until you heard noises from his bedroom. He woke up with a low groan and stretched his body, the events from last night filling his mind immediately. He sighed as he opened his eyes, rubbed his good eye and noticed that the side you slept on was already empty. He immediately sat up, and his eye roamed the room, he noticed that your shirt wasn’t on the floor anymore. ‘They already left…’ He thought and groaned as he cursed himself for having possibly ruined the only chance to get back together with you. He wanted to make things right and give you the love you deserved, not like this immediately.

What if the events of last night chased you away from him even further? What if there was no chance left anymore with you?

You fiddled with your fingers and immediately looked up from them as you saw him walking out of his bedroom. He yawned and rubbed his good eye again. Maybe he hasn’t noticed you yet? But as soon as his eye focused on you, he stopped in his tracks. “I… I thought you had already left.”

“I… Well, I was about to leave but…” You stood up from his couch, “But I don’t think this would have been my best option.”

 “Oh… I…” He slowly nodded, considering what to say, and walked into his kitchen, which was connected to his living room. You nervously fiddled with your fingers and followed his movements with your eyes but didn’t move the rest of your body. “I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he mumbled as he made himself a coffee, but you heard him, and a small smile formed on your lips.

“Do you want one as well?” He pointed to his coffee mug, but you shook your head and thanked him for the offer. He poured the coffee into his mug after it was done brewing and then walked up to you.

Both of you sat down next to each other, but there was a tiny distance between you. Neither of you said anything for a moment until he broke the tense silence between you. “Do you… Want to talk about last night?” He spoke softly, the nervousness in his voice was noticeable.

You nodded and turned your gaze in his direction, turning your body towards him, “I think we should.” Aemond inhaled and nodded as well, unsure what to say for a moment before he continued. “Do you regret it?”

“No,” you paused for a moment, “Not at all.” His shoulders relaxed immediately, “Neither do I.”

“Can I be honest with you?” You asked, a hint of nervousness in your voice again. After he nodded, you continued, “I… Uhm… I miss you. I miss us. I know we decided to part ways because of all the things that were going on back then but… I never stopped thinking about you or the time we shared. And last night… Maybe it was a sign? And maybe it was what we needed to realize that we’re ready to be with each other again.”

Aemond didn’t respond immediately, he was quite stunned, but he felt the same and agreed with you completely. He noticed how you continued to fiddle with your fingers and put down his coffee mug to gently lean to you and grab your hands to distract you. The contact calmed you down a little bit. You looked down at your hands as he brushed over the top of your hands with his thumbs. He still knew what calms you down, and you appreciated it a lot.

“I feel the same, darling,” he whispered softly, “I tried to move on, but it was impossible. There was always something missing in my life without you. I couldn’t stop looking at you whenever we hung out with our friends, and I…” He paused, “I still love you. I never stopped loving you, and when I woke up and thought you had already left, I was angry with myself for possibly having ruined any chances with you. You’re… You’re simply the best thing that has happened to me, and I don’t want to lose you entirely.”

You squeezed his hand and looked at him, “Nothing is ruined. I… I never stopped loving you either, Aemond.” You loved him, you always have. Many nights, you’ve found yourself thinking about the rest of your life with him together. How you’d grow old with him, maybe living somewhere peaceful. Together. Maybe you’d have a dog or more than one? Maybe a cat? Or any other animals you could take care of together. Both of you even had thought about adopting a dog or cat together when you were still together. You two already had different name ideas, one of them being Vhagar.

He smiled and scooted closer to you to lean his forehead against yours while he still held your hands tightly and gently. Maybe you were able to have a chance again. “Do you want to give us… Maybe another chance? I… I can’t continue living like this anymore. Every night, I think about you before I fall asleep, and you’re the first thought in the morning when I wake up. Wishing you were in my arms like you always used to. I just… Miss it,” he admitted quietly. His vulnerability was noticeable.

“I’d like to try again,” you smiled while tears built up in your eyes, completely out of happiness. You’ve been hoping for this moment for so long, and now you were sitting here together. Where it all started first because the first kiss you had with him before you were a couple happened in this apartment, on his couch in the same place you sat on currently.

Both of you smiled and fondly looked at one another before you eventually finally leaned in and captured his lips in a slow and tender kiss. He continued to brush his thumb over your hand and hummed into the kiss with a smile. He was truly happy. He pulled you into a hug after you pulled away from each other, stroking your head as he put his on top of yours. You closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around his waist. It was everything you needed, and maybe the break between you was needed to find each other again with a better mindset.

“I missed this,” you whispered after a while. “I missed this too. I missed you,” he admitted and kissed the top of your head. You finally had him back, he was your safe space, and you were his. And you both won’t let the other one go again. No matter what, you’d be able to get through everything together.

[lifeofpriya]

So Long, London - Jack Draper

[gif credit goes to @pyotrkochetkov]

a/n: this fic was heavily inspired by @pyotrkochetkov's post a few days ago about a jack angst fic idea she wanted someone to write 🤭 this is probably the longest fic i've ever written, so sit down, grab a drink and some snacks, and buckle down for the ride, y'all!

summary: what once was a vibrant relationship begins to fade, leaving both of you to drift apart and question your future together...

You woke up to the soft patter of rain outside the window, the sound barely audible over the steady hum of the city below. Stretching, you felt the stiffness in your body from the long hours spent at the office, the tension that had become a second skin to you. Your apartment in the heart of London was a sanctuary from the outside world, a place where you could shed the mask of the day and just be.

Jack's side of the bed was empty, the sheets cold to the touch. You knew his schedule by heart now: early morning training sessions, a quick breakfast, and then off to the courts. You had met him at a charity event a few months ago, and it had been love at first serve. His hazel eyes had pierced through the bustle of the crowd, his smile a warm embrace even in the chilly London air. He was everything you had ever wanted: successful, charming, and attentive.

But lately, something had changed. The texts grew shorter, and the phone calls less frequent. His dedication to tennis seemed to have swallowed him whole, leaving you with the crumbs of his attention. You tried not to let it show and pretended everything was fine, but the cracks in your relationship had started to widen like a fissure in a frozen lake. The apartment that once echoed with laughter and shared dreams now felt more like a museum of memories, each room a silent exhibit of what used to be.

As his career was reaching new heights, your world was slowly shrinking. The thrill of watching him play had become a distant memory, replaced by the cold reality of his absence. His victories no longer filled you with joy, but instead, a sinking feeling of loneliness. You had become an afterthought in his life, a box to check off his to-do list. You missed the way his eyes used to light up when you talked about your day, the gentle way his hand would brush against yours, the way his laughter could fill a room.

The effort you put into maintaining the façade of happiness grew tiresome, like a dance you had learned by heart but no longer enjoyed performing. You'd stay up late into the night, scrolling through social media, watching as his life played out in highlight reels and sponsored posts. The more successful he became, the more invisible you felt. You tried talking to him, but he'd always dismiss it as work stress, promising things would get better once the season was over. Yet, the seasons changed, and so did nothing else.

One evening, you decided to surprise him at his match. The stadium was packed, the air thick with anticipation as he took to the court. You watched him from the stands, his muscles flexing with each powerful serve, his eyes focused solely on the prize. He didn't see you there, not even when you cheered louder than anyone else. After his victory, you waited for him by the exit, clutching the bouquet of flowers you had bought. He walked by, surrounded by an entourage of fans and colleagues, and for a moment, his eyes met yours. But they didn't linger. They slid away as if you were just another face in the crowd.

The ache in your chest grew sharper with each passing day. You found yourself questioning every little thing: every unanswered text, every late-night training session, every time he chose the courts over you. The silence between you had become deafening, a void that swallowed up the love that once thrived. You knew you couldn't go on like this, living in the shadow of his career, but you were afraid to let go. The thought of ending it all was like contemplating the destruction of your own heart.

The rain had stopped, but the gray sky remained a gloomy backdrop to your mood. You decided to take a walk, hoping the fresh air would clear your thoughts. The cobblestone streets were slick under your shoes, and the scent of wet earth and the distant waft of a bakery mingled in the damp air. Each step took you further from the apartment, away from the reminders of the life you had built together, and closer to the realization that it was all falling apart.

As you strolled through the quiet, tree-lined streets, you passed by a small café. Through the steamy window, you saw a couple holding hands over a cup of coffee, their smiles a stark contrast to the sadness you felt. You thought about the times you and Jack had sat in places like this, sipping hot drinks and sharing your hopes and fears. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Your eyes stung with unshed tears, and you quickened your pace, not wanting to be caught in a moment of weakness.

You found yourself in the park, the same one where you had shared your first kiss. The leaves were turning gold, a poignant reminder of the autumn of your relationship. You sat on a bench, watching as children played nearby, their laughter a bittersweet symphony that taunted the silence in your soul.

You had enough. You knew you deserved better, more than the fleeting moments of affection and the empty promises of quality time. So, you gathered your courage and decided to confront Jack. You waited for him to come home, your heart racing with every tick of the clock. When he finally walked through the door, sweat-soaked and exhausted, you couldn't hide the sadness in your eyes anymore.

"Jack, we need to talk," you said, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

He looked up from his gym bag, surprise etched on his weary face. "What's up?"

You took a deep breath, the words you had rehearsed so many times now poised on the edge of your tongue. "This isn't working anymore, is it?"

Jack paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob as he processed your words. The weight of the unspoken hung heavily in the air, a silent testament to the distance that had grown between you. He sighed, a heavy sound that seemed to carry the weight of the world, and dropped his bag to the floor. "What do you mean?"

You could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lines around his mouth that had deepened since you last had a real conversation. But there was something else, too. A flicker of guilt that confirmed what you already knew. "I mean," you began, your voice wavering slightly, "that we're drifting apart. That your tennis is consuming everything, and I'm just… I'm just here, waiting for you to come up for air."

Jack leaned against the door, his posture deflating as he took in your words. He rubbed the back of his neck, a habit he had when he was stressed or confused. "I know I've been busy," he started, his voice low and sincere, "but I thought we were okay."

You felt a knot in your throat, the years of pent-up frustration and love tangled together in a mess that was difficult to unravel. "Okay isn't enough," you said firmly. "I need more than okay."

Jack's eyes searched yours, looking for a hint of the spark that had brought you two together. He took a step closer, his hands reaching out tentatively, as if to bridge the gap that had grown between you. "What do you want from me?"

You hesitated, the question echoing in your mind. What did you want? You wanted the love you had felt in those early days, the excitement of discovery, and the comfort of shared experiences. But that seemed like a distant dream now. "I want you," you said finally, the words coming out more as a plea than a demand. "I want the person I fell in love with."

Jack's expression softened, and for a moment, you thought he might understand. But then his eyes clouded over again, and he took a step back. "You know I can't just quit tennis," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and resentment. "This is my life. This is what I've worked for."

You felt the sting of his words, but you didn't flinch. "I'm not asking you to quit," you replied calmly. I'm just asking for balance—for us to be a priority again."

Jack looked at you, his eyes searching yours for understanding. He ran a hand through his damp hair, leaving it in disarray. "You know how much this means to me," he said, his voice strained. "But I'll try."

You nodded, hope flickering in your chest. Maybe there was a chance, a glimmer of the love you had lost. But the doubt remained, a persistent whisper in the back of your mind. The next few days were filled with tentative gestures and half-hearted attempts at connection. He'd stay up later to watch a movie with you, or surprise you with breakfast in bed, but the underlying tension remained. You could feel it, a tightrope you both danced upon, afraid to misstep and send everything plummeting into the abyss.

One evening, Jack came home earlier than expected. He had lost a match, his first in months. The defeat etched on his face was raw, unfiltered. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him it was okay, that you were there for him no matter what. But when he saw you, his eyes darkened, the weight of his failure crushing the fragile peace you had constructed.

"What are you doing here?" he snapped, his voice laced with frustration. "I need to be alone."

You felt the rejection like a punch to the gut, but you remained steadfast. "Jack, it's okay to lose," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "It doesn't change who you are."

He shrugged you off, his eyes burning with anger and disappointment. "You don't get it," he said, his voice tight. "This isn't just a game to me. It's everything."

You took a step back, the coldness of his words sending a shiver down your spine. You had never seen this side of him before, the side that was consumed by the sport, the side that didn't have room for you. "I do get it," you said, trying to keep the hurt from your voice. "But you can't let it be everything. You can't let it eat away at us."

Jack didn't respond, instead, he turned away and headed to the shower, the door slamming shut behind him. You stood there, unsure of what to do next. The apartment felt smaller, the air thick with the unspoken. You knew you had to give him space, but the walls seemed to be closing in on you, suffocating you with the weight of his pain and your own fear.

You wandered into the living room, the silence deafening. You picked up a book from the coffee table, trying to find solace in the pages, but the words blurred together, indistinct and unimportant. Your thoughts kept drifting back to the conversation, to the coldness in his eyes when he pushed you away.

The sound of the shower finally stopped, and you could hear Jack moving around in the bedroom. You set the book down and took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come.

When he emerged, his face was scrubbed clean, but the sadness in his eyes remained. He saw you sitting there, and for a moment, the anger was gone, replaced by a look of regret. He sat down next to you, his elbows on his knees, and leaned his head in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice cracking. "I didn't mean to push you away."

You put the book aside and turned to face him. "Jack, we can't go on like this," you said gently, taking his hand in yours. "I can't keep pretending everything's fine when it's not."

He looked up at you, the regret in his eyes deepening. "I know," he murmured. "I've been so focused on tennis that I've neglected us. I've taken you for granted."

You shook your head, "I can't live my life fueled with empty promises anymore." The words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the chasm that had formed between you.

Jack's gaze dropped to the floor, his grip on your hand tightening. "I know I haven't been the best partner," he admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper. "But I want to change. I want to make it work."

You studied his face, searching for the truth in his words. You knew he meant it, but the doubt remained, a stubborn shadow that had taken root in your heart. "I've given you so many chances," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I'm done fighting for a relationship that feels one-sided."

Jack took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours with a newfound vulnerability. "I know," he said, his voice thick with regret. "And I've let you down. But if you give me one more chance, I'll prove to you that I can change. That we can find that balance."

You felt your heart ache, torn between the love you still had for him and the pain of his neglect. "Jack," you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "I don't know if I can do this anymore."

He looked at you, the reality of your words sinking in. He leaned over and took your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears that had started to fall. "Please," he begged, "just one more chance. I'll do whatever it takes to make it right."

You stared into his eyes, the green of the leaves outside the window casting a mottled light over his features. The love you had for him was still there, a dull throb that wouldn't go away, no matter how much you wished it would. You wanted to believe him, you really did. But the doubt was a heavy burden that you had been carrying for too long.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, pulling away from his grasp. "But I can't keep doing this." Your voice was shaky, but your resolve was unwavering.

Jack's eyes searched yours, desperation pooling in their depths. "What do you mean?"

You took a deep breath, the words sticking in your throat like a mouthful of dry toast. "I mean, I can't keep holding onto something that isn't working," you said, your voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill over. "I've given you all of me, and I need more than just the leftovers of your time and attention."

Jack's expression fell, the realization of his actions settling on him like a heavy fog. He opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. Instead, he dropped his hands to his sides, his shoulders slumping in defeat. The silence that followed was a physical presence in the room, a thick and heavy blanket that suffocated any semblance of comfort.

You stood up, the tremble in your legs betraying your inner turmoil. "I need some time to think," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked to the bedroom, each step feeling like you were walking away from a piece of yourself. You shut the door gently, leaving him sitting on the couch, alone with his thoughts.

In the bedroom, you leaned against the closed door, your chest heaving with the effort to hold back sobs. You took a moment to compose yourself, to breathe in the air that was now thick with the scent of their cologne, a smell that was once comforting but now a stark reminder of the empty promises and unfulfilled dreams. You looked around the room, at the photos of happy moments together, the trophies that gleamed in the soft light, and the empty space on the nightstand where your picture used to be.

You grabbed your phone and dialed your best friend's number, the one person who knew every detail of your relationship, every high and low. You needed her calm voice, her unwavering support. She picked up on the first ring, and without saying a word, you could feel the empathy radiating through the line. She knew something was wrong.

"He's not changing, is he?" she asked gently.

You took a deep breath, the truth of her words a heavy stone in your chest. "I don't know," you managed to choke out. "I want to believe he will, but I can't ignore the feeling that it's just going to be more of the same."

Your friend's voice was a soothing balm, offering comfort without judgment. "You've done everything you can," she said. "It's time to think about what you need."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. You knew she was right. You needed more than just a promise of change. You needed action, a commitment to the relationship that matched the one you had been giving all along. You sat down on the bed, the mattress squeaking under your weight, and took a deep breath. The rain had started again, the droplets tapping a solemn rhythm on the window.

Jack's side of the closet was a testament to his life on the road, a chaotic mess of suitcases and rumpled clothes. You stared at his tennis shoes, the ones he had worn when you had watched him win his first major tournament. They were pristine white, now scuffed and worn from his relentless pursuit of greatness. You felt a pang of sadness, wondering if his dedication to the sport had cost him more than just your happiness.

With a heavy heart, you began to pack a bag of your own. You didn't know where you'd go, but you knew you couldn't stay here anymore. Each item you placed in the bag was a symbol of your own strength, a declaration of independence from the shadow of his success. The sound of your zipper closing was the final act in a play that had gone on for too long.

You walked out to the living room, your bag slung over your shoulder, and found Jack still sitting on the couch. He looked up at you, his eyes red and puffy, the weight of his own regret etched into his features. "I'm sorry," he murmured again, but the words felt hollow in the face of your resolve. "I guess this is it," he said, standing up.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. The words you wanted to say, the anger and hurt you had bottled up for so long, threatened to spill out in a flood of accusations and recriminations. But you knew that wouldn't change anything. You had made your decision, and it was time to move on. "I need to go," you said, your voice calm despite the storm raging within.

Jack stepped aside, allowing you to pass. As you moved through the apartment, each room whispered memories that now felt like ghosts. You paused in the kitchen, the sight of the mug tree bringing a lump to your throat. So many mornings you had made him tea, hoping the simple act would be enough to keep him grounded, to remind him of what he had waiting for him at home. It was a futile hope, one that had been shattered by the relentless pull of the courts.

You took one last look around, the walls now echoing with the silence of your unanswered calls and the emptiness of his promises. The door clicked shut behind you, a finality that resonated through your bones. The cool air outside was a stark contrast to the stifling atmosphere you had left behind.

You wandered the streets, the rain now a gentle patter that matched the rhythm of your thoughts. Each step took you further from the apartment, from the life you had built with him, and closer to the unknown. The city lights reflected off the wet pavement, casting a shimmering glow that seemed to mock the darkness of your heart.

You called a taxi, the neon lights of the car blinking through the mist like a beacon of escape. The driver looked at you in the rearview mirror, his expression a mix of curiosity and concern. You gave him the address of a hotel you had found online, one that offered a quiet refuge from the tumultuous storm of your emotions.

As the city passed by in a blur of lights and rain-slicked streets, you stared out the window, the cold glass pressing against your forehead. Your thoughts swirled like the wind outside, a chaotic mix of doubt, anger, and sorrow. You wondered if you were making a mistake, if you were giving up too quickly. But the weight of the decision settled in your stomach like a lead ball, a sure sign that you were doing what needed to be done.

When the taxi pulled up to the hotel, the doorman rushed to open the door, offering you a sympathetic smile as you stepped out into the damp night. The lobby was a welcome respite from the storm, warm and quiet, with a faint scent of vanilla and fresh flowers. The receptionist offered her condolences for the weather as she checked you in, her eyes flicking to the bag slung over your shoulder, but she said nothing about the tears that had streaked your cheeks.

You took the elevator to the top floor, the ride up feeling like an ascension to a new chapter of your life. The room was small but cozy, with a plush bed that beckoned you to rest and a view of the city that reminded you of the vast expanse of possibilities ahead. You set your bag down, and for a moment, you just stood there, listening to the rain tap against the window, feeling the weight of the silence that was now yours alone.

You called your friend back, her voice a lifeline in the sea of your doubt. She talked you through the pain, her words of encouragement and understanding a salve to your bruised heart. She reminded you of who you were before Jack, of the dreams you had put on hold, of the life that was still waiting for you outside the shadow of his ambition.

You took a long, hot shower, letting the water wash away the tension and the tears. You felt the warmth seep into your skin, rekindling a spark of life that had been all but snuffed out. When you emerged, you wrapped yourself in a soft towel and looked in the mirror. The person staring back at you was tired but determined.

You pulled on a pair of comfortable pajamas and climbed into the bed, feeling the cool sheets against your flushed skin. You lay there for a while, listening to the rain outside, feeling the sadness wash over you in waves. But as the night grew darker, something shifted. The weight of your decision began to feel lighter, replaced by a quiet sense of relief. You had stood up for yourself, and that was something to be proud of.

As you drifted off to sleep, your mind played back moments of your relationship—the laughter, the tears, the passion. You felt the ache of loss, but also the flicker of hope. Maybe this was the end, or perhaps it was just the end of a chapter. Either way, you knew you had made the right choice.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of the city waking up. The rain had stopped, and the sun peeked through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You felt a strange mix of emotions—sadness, relief, fear, and a hint of excitement for the unknown. You knew you couldn't stay in this hotel forever, but for now, it was your sanctuary, a place to heal and decide your next steps.

You ordered room service, and the comforting taste of tea and toast was a gentle reminder of the life you once knew. You spent the day in a daze, watching movies and scrolling through social media, trying to distract yourself from the reality of your situation. But every notification, every article about Jack's latest match, brought the pain back in full force.

In the quiet solitude of the hotel room, you allowed yourself to grieve the relationship you had lost. The highs and the lows, the love and the neglect, all culminating in this moment of solitude. You cried until there were no more tears left, until your eyes were puffy and your throat raw.

As the days passed, you began to feel the tentative beginnings of strength. Each time you checked your phone and saw a message from Jack, you resisted the urge to respond immediately. Instead, you took a deep breath and waited, letting the words sit unanswered, giving yourself the space to think and feel.

You started to explore the city again, the same streets that had once been the backdrop to your shared life now a canvas for new adventures. You visited museums and parks, wandered through markets and cafes, rediscovering the joy of doing things on your own terms. The world didn't revolve around his schedule anymore, and the freedom was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Meanwhile, Jack's life continued on the tennis tour, but the sting of your departure remained. He found it difficult to focus, his mind often drifting to the emptiness of the apartment and the echo of your voice. His performances on the court suffered, and the whispers of doubt grew louder in his ears. He knew he had lost more than just a partner in you; he had lost a piece of himself.

"Game, set, match, Alcaraz," the announcer's voice boomed through the stadium, and Jack's shoulders dropped in defeat. His eyes searched the stands, but there was no sign of you. It had been weeks since you had last spoken, and the void in his life was a constant reminder of his failure.

The applause from the crowd seemed muted as he made his way to the locker room, the weight of his loss heavy on his shoulders. His coach tried to offer words of encouragement, but Jack knew that nothing could fill the emptiness that your absence had left. He had pushed you away with his obsession, and now he faced the stark reality of a life without your warmth and support.

In the quiet of his hotel room, Jack stared at his phone, the screen lighting up with messages from his agent, his coach, and his friends. But the one message he craved was from you. He knew he had to make a change, to prove to you and himself that he could balance his career with the love you both deserved.

The weeks passed in a blur of matches and press conferences, but Jack couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness that had settled in his chest. His game suffered, his focus scattered. His entourage noticed the shift, their worried glances and hushed conversations a constant reminder of his personal turmoil.

One evening, after a particularly crushing loss, Jack found himself unable to face the empty hotel suite. Instead, he wandered the streets, seeking solace in the anonymity of the city.

He ended up at a small, dimly lit pub, the kind of place where the locals gathered to drown their sorrows and share their stories. The warm, woody scent of beer and the comforting murmur of conversation wrapped around him like a blanket. He took a seat at the bar, the polished wood cool against his palms.

The bartender, a middle-aged woman with a kind face and a knowing smile, approached him. "Rough day?" she asked, her voice a gentle rumble.

Jack nodded, his eyes downcast. "Rough few weeks, actually," he murmured, the weight of his words heavier than the silence that followed.

The bartender leaned closer, a hint of concern in her gaze. "Love troubles?" she ventured.

Jack sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. "Something like that," he replied, staring into the amber depths of his whiskey.

The woman nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. "It's tough when you lose someone important, especially when you know you're the one who messed up." She wiped the counter with a cloth that had seen better days. "But you're young, and you're talented. You've got time to make it right."

Jack took a sip of his drink, the burn in his throat mirroring the ache in his heart. "I just don't know if I can," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I've lost so much already."

The bartender's expression softened. "You can't change the past, love," she said, her voice a soothing balm. "But you can learn from it. Sometimes, you have to hit rock bottom before you realize what you truly want."

Jack nodded, the whiskey warming him from the inside out. He knew she was right. The pain of losing you had brought a clarity to his life that he hadn't felt in a long time. Tennis was his love, his passion, but it couldn't be his everything.

The next day, Jack took a deep breath as he walked into the gym, his eyes scanning the familiar space for any signs of change. His coach noticed the determination in his stride and nodded approvingly. They began to work on a new strategy, one that didn't just focus on his serve and volley but also on his mental fortitude. Between sets, Jack's thoughts drifted to you, to the way your eyes would light up when he talked about his matches, the way you'd listen intently and offer insights that often proved invaluable. He missed that connection, the way you understood him in a way no one else did.

As he swiped the sweat from his brow, Jack made a silent vow to become the person you deserved, to find the balance between his love for tennis and his love for you. It wasn't going to be easy, and he knew that he couldn't expect you to come running back with open arms. But he had to try, for both of your sakes.

One day, while he was in line at the coffee shop, Jack heard a familiar laugh. His heart skipped a beat, and he spun around, only to see you with an unfamiliar man, smiling and chatting away. The sight of you with someone else was like a knife to the chest. He quickly averted his gaze, pretending not to notice, but the pain was acute. He realized he hadn't seen you in person since that rainy night you left.

Jack's hand trembled as he took the coffee the barista handed him. He stepped aside, watching you from a distance, feeling like an outsider in a scene that used to be so intimately his. The stranger put his arm around your shoulders, and Jack felt a surge of jealousy that surprised him. He had known you needed more, but seeing it with his own eyes was a different story.

But you didn't miss the way Jack's eyes lingered on you, the desperation in his gaze. You felt a pang of guilt, but you steeled yourself. You had moved on, hadn't you?

You couldn't deny it, your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. You wanted to run into his arms and tell him you'd made a mistake, that you could work it out.

"You still have feelings for him, don't you?" You heard Alex whisper, a sad smile playing on his lips. You nodded, sipping your hot beverage.

"It's hard not to, but…I've moved on," you replied, trying to convince yourself more than anyone else.

"Have you though? Really moved on?" Alex's question lingered in the air, his gaze holding yours as you took another sip of your beverage. You swallowed hard, the warm liquid doing little to soothe the sudden tightness in your throat. "It's okay if you do," he added gently, "but maybe it's time to talk to him."

Jack watched you from across the street, his heart hammering in his chest. He had hoped that with time and distance, the pain would lessen, but seeing you with someone else brought it all rushing back. The months of training, the endless matches, none of it had filled the void you left behind. He knew he needed to make a change, to find a way to balance his love for the game with the love he had for you.

With a newfound resolve, Jack approached you, his sneakers squeaking on the damp pavement. You turned, surprise flickering in your eyes before they clouded over with caution. Alex stepped aside, giving you space. "Can we talk?" Jack asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, leading the way to a nearby park bench. The rain had stopped, leaving the air fresh and clean, the scent of wet earth and leaves filling the space between you. You sat down, leaving a respectful distance, your eyes avoiding his. "What is there to say?" you began, your voice tight with unshed tears.

Jack took a deep breath, his eyes searching yours. "I've been thinking about us," he said, his voice raw with emotion. "I know I've hurt you, and I'm sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you weren't a priority."

You remained silent, watching the children playing in the distance, the sound of their laughter a stark contrast to the heaviness of the conversation. "It's more than that, Jack," you said finally, your voice steady. "It's about feeling seen, heard, and valued. It's about being a team, not just having someone to come home to when you're done with your day."

Jack nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I get it," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I've been so focused on my career, I lost sight of what's truly important. I want to change that. I want to be better for you."

You studied him, looking for the truth in his words. The old Jack, the one who used to make you feel like the center of his world, seemed to be peeking out from behind the tired, burdened exterior. "What does that mean, exactly?" you asked, your voice laced with skepticism.

Jack took a deep breath, bracing himself for the hardest conversation of his life. "It means that I'll make time for us, really make time," he began. "I'll schedule breaks in my training, show up for dinner without my phone, and actually listen when you talk about your day." His voice grew stronger as he spoke, the conviction in his eyes growing brighter. "I'll do whatever it takes to fix this."

You felt a flicker of hope, but it was quickly doused by the memory of his past promises. "Words are easy, Jack," you said, your tone measured. "It's the actions that count."

Jack's expression grew serious, the lines around his eyes deepening as he nodded. "You're right. I know I've said a lot of things I didn't follow through on, but I'm different now." He paused, searching for the right words. "I've missed you. I've missed us. I can't stand the thought of losing you for good."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Jack, I want to believe you," you said, your voice wavering. "But I've been here before. How do I know this isn't just another fleeting moment of clarity before you're off to the next match?"

Jack reached out and took your hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Because I'm going to prove it to you," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm going to show you that you're not just a part of my life, you're the most important part. And if that means taking a step back from tennis, then that's what I'll do."

You searched his eyes, looking for any sign of deceit or doubt. But all you saw was sincerity and pain. "I don't want you to give up your dreams," you whispered. "But I need to know you're willing to make me a part of them."

Jack nodded solemnly. "I understand," he said. "And I'm not asking you to come back right now. I just… I want you to know that I'm willing to make changes. To make us work."

You felt the warmth of his hand, the familiarity of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. You had missed this connection, but the fear of history repeating itself was stronger.

"Jack," you began, your voice shaky, "I want to believe you. I really do. But I've been hurt too many times. I can't just jump back in without knowing it's for real."

Jack's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand in a comforting gesture. "I know," he said, his eyes never leaving yours. "And I don't expect you to. I just need you to know that I'm ready to fight for us. To make this right."

You sighed, the weight of your decision pressing down on your chest like a boulder. "Okay," you finally said, your voice barely audible. "Let's take it slow. No promises, just…see where it goes."

Jack's face lit up with hope, a small smile playing on his lips. "I can do that," he said, squeezing your hand. "We'll take it one day at a time."

The days turned into weeks, and Jack kept his promise. He made an effort to be present, to listen, to be there for you without the distraction of his phone or his thoughts of the next match. He started to include you in his training sessions, even asking for your advice on his game. It was a tentative dance, both of you testing the waters, feeling for the old rhythm that had been lost.

You found yourself slowly letting your guard down, the warmth of his attention thawing the icy walls around your heart. But the fear remained, a persistent shadow that followed you, whispering doubt into your ear every time he had to leave for a tournament.

One evening, as you watched him pack his bag, the memories of the past filled the room—his hasty goodbyes, the forgotten anniversaries, the missed phone calls. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. "Jack," you said, your voice wavering, "are you sure this is what you want? That you can handle it?"

Jack looked up from his suitcase, his eyes meeting yours with a fierce determination. "I've never been more sure of anything," he replied, crossing the room to stand in front of you. "I love you, and I'm going to prove it every single day." He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to believe him.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of improvement. Jack's dedication to the relationship was evident, and his performance on the court reflected the newfound balance in his life. The press took notice, praising his renewed focus and maturity. His wins started piling up, and the whispers of a potential comeback grew louder.

But it wasn't just his game that had changed; it was Jack himself. He had become more thoughtful, more attentive. He'd surprise you with flowers, leave sweet notes around the apartment, and ask about your day with genuine interest. He was the partner you had always wanted him to be, and you felt yourself falling back in love with him.

Yet, the doubt remained, a quiet thief in the night that stole moments of happiness. You would catch yourself waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the day when he'd slip back into his old ways. Each time he picked up his phone to check his schedule, you'd hold your breath, waiting for the apology that usually followed.

But the apologies didn't come. Instead, Jack made plans with you, around you. He talked about the future with a warmth that had been absent for so long, his eyes lighting up when he spoke of trips you could take together, the life you could build outside of tennis. It was as if he had finally realized that there was more to life than the scoreboard.

One rainy afternoon, you found yourself nestled in his arms, watching a movie you'd both seen a hundred times before. His fingers traced idle patterns on your skin, and you felt a sense of peace that had been elusive for months. As the credits rolled, Jack leaned in and kissed you softly, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

"I'm going to miss you," you whispered, as the reality of his upcoming tournament loomed.

Jack pulled you closer, his arms a warm cocoon. "I'll miss you too," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "But I promise, I'll make it up to you when I get back."

The days leading up to the tournament were filled with sweet gestures and stolen moments of intimacy. Jack took you on surprise dates, showered you with affection, and even cooked for you, a rarity in your usually hectic lives. His dedication to making amends was palpable, and you found yourself feeling hopeful for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

[therealjammy]

It's finally here, the self-indulgent project I've spent two months working on! It started out as an excuse to write a steamy intimate scene but turned into a character study and an experiment all at once... I really hope you enjoy reading it; it was a blast to write, even with all the challenges.

Posting this link here for the Tumblr crowd xx

[jojosgaylittleadventure]

*screeches*

[winged-mammal]

Chapters: 14/26 Chapter Word Count: 5358 (65868 total) Fandom: The Expanse Rating: T (E overall) Relationships: Chrisjen Avasarala/Bobbie Draper Characters: Chrisjen Avasarala, Bobbie Draper Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Relationship Negotiation, Long-Distance Relationship, Bed Sharing, Bickering, Canon-Typical Violence, discussions of ethical non-monogamy, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Competence Porn, a years-long game of marriage chicken, terrible poetry

Summary:

Bobbie and Chrisjen, post-canon, in love and making it work while Chrisjen rebuilds Earth and Bobbie splits her time between Earth and the Rocinante. And if an ongoing joke gets a little out of hand, well, these things happen.

Chapter Summary:

At the end of Bobbie's day of vlogging, Chrisjen watches her have a family dinner with the crew of the Rocinante. Their drinking game to cap off the night quickly and predictably devolves.

[rai-knightshade]

Last Line Tag Game

Alrighty! It's been a hot minute since i did one of these but luckily I've actually got a wip i can use for this! (You'd be surprised at how infrequently that's the case 😅.) Thanks for the tag, @erinsworld ! I hope you're, uh... Ready for a rarepair fic for a completely different fandom 😂

The last* Line--written for chapter 2 of "these hands had to let it go free and--(This Love came back to me)":

'This man is still all of those past versions of himself that you knew so well; but now, he's also all the past versions of himself that you never got to know. (And when he breathes your name, it sounds the same way it always did.) "Beca." "...Jesse."'

*-yeah so this is actually the last several lines cause. Well. You can see why a single word/pair of names doesn't exactly make for a compelling final line without, ya know, context. So. Context.

For a more in-depth discussion of what this fic is (vaguely) about, + some relevant art, check out this post i made announcing chapter 1! But the tl;Dr is that this is a Pitch Perfect fanfic exploring the nature of love, relationships, and what "inevitable" really means... Through the lense of a rarepair 😅. And not only that, it is to date the longest (single story) fic I've ever written (currently clocking in at 20,200 words total between both chapters--and im nowhere close to finishing chapter 2) as well as, quite possibly, the queerest fic I've written in terms of themes (the Brady verse was queer by the nature of it centering around a gay couple and their children, plus the handful of other queer relationships around them, but it's more of a family narrative than it is a truly queer one; in contrast the ideas on love explored in this fic are very queer, as are... Just about every character i mention, no matter what canon says about them). It's a doozy! I'm quite proud of it so far tho 😁.

Now, to tag... Alright, how about @impossiblepluto @zeldaelmo @demonicsoulmates @readingwriter92 @wanderingnightingale and @lizartgurl ! No pressure ofc, but I'd love to see what y'all are working on!

[prommethium]

Voy a sufrir tanto traduciendo. Estúpido Inglés, si me vieran... les juro que escribo re-bonito en Esp, y no es arrogancia. ¡¡¡JODER QUE HE LEÍDO TANTO Y SE NOTA!!!

Voy a llorar.

Sólo espero que algún día mi estilo en Ing sea aceptable; no leíble, no historia barata de Wxxxxx no la historia pendeja que recomiendan celebridades que "leen," QUIERO QUE SE NOTE QUE HAY QUIENES PODEMOS ESCRIBIR BIEN PARA FANDOMS.

[tetsvya]

clueless, kuroo tetsuro

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷  kuroo tetsuro has a thing for girls with long hair. so what if you're a girl with long hair? that doesn’t mean anything!

➼ pairing! kuroo tetsuro x fem!manager!reader

➼ warnings! none, just fluff and humor. maybe ooc because i haven't written in years??? unfortunately, because this is based on the scene of kuroo and yaku arguing about their preference, this is really for my long haired girlies 😣 i apologize to the short haired readers

➼ word count! about 1.4k

➼ author’s note! "haikyuu renassiance!" we all cheer in unison. anywho, this is my first time posting in two years. please be nice to me 🫡

"So, you prefer girls with short hair then, Yaku?" Kai asks, shedding off the white button-up of his school uniform and revealing his black practice t-shirt. The three third-year Nekoma players had found themselves in an empty classroom, deciding to use it as a makeshift changing room. Luckily for them, they had all worn their clean practice clothes under their school uniforms. Doing so allowed them to save time and cut back the number of minutes they were already going to be late to practice, thanks to Yaku getting distracted by a group of girls, which Kai noted all had short hair. Hence, his question.

Yaku paused his work of ridding himself of his tie to send Kai a proud grin, pointing towards him with both hands, “Yesss!

"And you, Kuroo?" Kai turns to him, now curious to know his captain's answer as well.

"Long." Kuroo's answer is firm, leaving no room for debate. Still, he glances at Yaku, as if daring him to try.

Yaku only snorts, shaking his head in amusement as he too turns to look at his captain, "Like that wasn't obvious."

"Ehh," Kuroo's eyes narrow, head craning down to peer at the libero, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means," Yaku starts, taking a step closer as he peers right back up at Kuroo, "Everyone knows you have a crush on our manager, who just so happens to have the longest hair I've ever seen!"

"Ehh?" Kuroo repeats, louder this time as he cranes his head down even more, "Who says I have a crush—"

"Hey!" The door to the classroom slides open with a shocking force, startling the boys and drawing the attention of all three of them to it. Kuroo and Yaku both grow rigid as they find you standing in its opening. Quiet pants slip past your lips, and you take a moment to catch your breath as you stare at the three of them before you begin speaking, "There you guys are! I've been looking for the three of you everywhere."

"Hello," Kai greets kindly, the only one not left in a stupor at your sudden appearance, smiling as you make your way into the classroom. "We apologize, we're running a bit late."

"Yeah," You huff, coming to a stop a few steps away from them as you cross your arms, "It was your guys' turn to set up the nets. So when you guys didn't show up in time to do so and none of you answered your phones, Coach sent me to find you guys. Didn't know I'd be going on a wild goose chase."

Your words leave you in a huff before your eyes land on Kuroo, raising an eyebrow at the captain. His shoulders tense even more at the sudden eye contact and he's quick to snap his head in the other direction. Kuroo suddenly feels warm, realizing how you could have easily heard the conversation transpiring between the three of them. Stupid Yaku, Kuroo curses the libero in his head, doesn't even know what he's talking about.

"Sorry, Y/N." And of course it’s Yaku who disrupts his thoughts, pulling Kuroo's eyes to him just as he sends you an innocent smile, "We got carried away, talking."

There's a teasing tone to Yaku's voice, and Kuroo knows it's directed at him. Why is he friends with him again?

"I don't even want to know," You speak, and Kuroo can envision you shaking your head at the three of them, "Just get dressed and get to the gym as quick as possible, please."

All three boys give some noise of recognition in response to your words, and Kuroo takes the chance to glance at you then. He's quick to regret it. Your hand rises just as he locks eyes with you, reaching up to tuck some of the more unruly pieces of your hair (which most likely came undone due to your seemingly frantic search of the three third years) behind your ear and out of your face. Kuroo's eyes follow the movement of your hand, trailing downwards and taking in the long strands of hair that fall well past your shoulders. Once again all too aware of the conversation he was just having with his teammates, the tips of his ears burn as he pulls his gaze away from you once more. He shakes his head, trying to get Yaku's words out of his mind. Just because he liked girls with long hair, and just because you so happened to be a girl with long hair, did not mean he liked you.

Right?

A snort of laughter suddenly leaves Yaku, having caught the interaction, and Kuroo turns to him with a heated glare. You don't miss the exchange between them either.

"Are you two having one of your petty arguments again?" You accuse, eyes glancing between Kuroo and Yaku who are suddenly staring back at you like two deers caught in headlights. "Seriously, you've been fighting like this since first year. What topic could you guys possibly still be discussing?"

Yaku's smirk returns as he glances at his captain with an all too knowing look before he turns back to you, "Well, if you really want to kn—"

"Nope!" Kuroo is quick to interject, speaking for the first time since you entered and drawing your attention away from Yaku and back to the captain himself. Your eyes widen as he begins to take long strides in your direction. "No arguing here!"

Your lips part, confusion taking over your features at the odd behavior your captain is displaying. You don't get the chance to say anything, however, as Kuroo makes a show of glancing at the clock on the wall before turning back to you with a dramatic gasp, "Oh, would you look at the time! We should really be heading to practice."

"You still have your school shirt on, Kuroo.” You point out when he stops in front of you, pointedly glancing down at Kuroo's attire, which consisted of his practice shorts and white button-up, with his red school tie hung loosely around his neck.

"I'll just change it once we're in the gym," Kuroo responds, waving away your interjections before he drops his hands onto your shoulders and forces you to turn around and back toward the door. You attempt to dig your heels down when he begins to push you in the direction of the door, but you're truly no match for his strength. Stupid volleyball training.

"Kuroo," You voice your protests, attempting to swat at his hands in order to get him to release you. Once again, your attempts remain futile, "Let go of me!"

"No can do! As captain and manager, it's our job to be on time to every practice. What would our team do without us?" Kuroo shakes his head, clicking his tongue as if he's scolding you. He turns back to Kai and Yaku, flashing them a warning smile, daring them to say another word. Yaku merely watches on with an unamused look, while Kai holds a placid smile. There's extra sweetness in his voice as he practically chirps out, "Bring my stuff to the club room, will you?"

"I was on time!" You retort, not giving Kai nor Yaku a chance to respond to their exasperating captain as you send them a pointed look, all the while succumbing to your fate and allowing Kuroo to push you out of the classroom. After all, he did have a point. It probably wouldn't be long before Lev managed to push somebody's buttons (most likely Yamamoto’s) one too many times and ended up in hot water. "The only reason I'm not there right now is because I came looking for you guys!"

"Ah, now is not the time to deal blame, Y/N. Our juniors are waiting on us." Kuroo argues back, shaking his head as he removes one hand from your shoulder to slide the door shut behind the two of you. Still, Yaku and Kai face the door as the sound of your guys' bickering persists. It grows quieter and quieter with each passing moment, and it isn’t until they can no longer hear your guys' voices does Yaku glance away with a shake of his head.

"He's clueless." Yaku deadpans, glancing back down at his tie as he continues to work on untying it.

Kai nods, neatly folding his button-up before placing it in his bag. "Completely."

[inkedells]

look at me a little more | dbf!joel miller x f!reader

A/N: first of all, SMUTTT so much smut up ahead. holy crap this is the longest thing i've ever written (pathetic, i know, blame the commitment issues) enjoy lovies!! also lmk if you want a part 2 maybe possibly!?

m!dni | requests open.

summary: dbf!neighbor!joel accidentally drenches you (virgin!reader) while washing his car and you can’t help but notice the way he eyes you up. it’s only once he’s in your bedroom, fixing your closet door as an apology, that you realize the best person to rid you of your virginity and teach you precisely how to please yourself and others had been right in front of you the whole time; it's getting joel on board with the whole idea that's the hard part.

word count: 5.5k

tags/warnings: SMUTTTT, virgin!reader, dbf!neighbor!joel faces moral conflicts (to fuck or not to fuck!?!?), porn with plot, sooo much tension, dirty talk, use of pet names, blowjobs, handjobs, cumplay, reader eats joel's cum, grinding, making out, oral sex, no!outbreak au, reader's innocent in the sense that she doesn't really know how to do a lot of things when it comes to sex but still has a ton of desires

masterlist

There was a certain shame that came with being infatuated with your dad’s best friend.

You were sitting around on the porch on a hot summer afternoon, wearing your shortest cotton shorts as you sipped the juice box brand you had loved since you were a little girl. Legs crossed, foot tapping the air, and most importantly, eyes absolutely trained on the ripple of Joel Miller’s biceps as he washed his car.

You didn’t know why you liked to stare at him so much. But you did know it was wrong. Immoral. Eyeing up someone in their forties? What was wrong with you? That was your dad’s best f—

“Hey, Mr. Miller!” You called over, shutting down every ounce of doubt in your mind.

He turned around without hesitation, and when he did, you waved. The first time you’d done that, he had to work a little harder to figure out the source of the voice, eyes searching in random directions before finally settling on you. But now, it was like he knew exactly where to look—And, well, that was all it took for you to decide you would be spending the next hour washing a car if it meant spending time with Joel.

So you settled your juice box down on the wooden floor of the porch and skipped over to his house. He must not have heard your footsteps behind him over the sound of the hose, so your simple tap on his shoulder resulted in him whipping around, hose in hand, as he consequently drenched you.

You yelped, breaking out into nervous laughter both from shock and how cold the water was. Joel fumbled to turn off the hose as he began profusely apologizing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry—”

Then he properly saw you. From Joel’s perspective, your clothes were reduced to translucency, practically melting into your skin.

But you didn’t know that. You never fully grasped just how vulnerable you had become from his accident, so when you caught him averting his gaze as quickly as he could, you were a little confused.

“You—Uh—I,” Joel stumbled before clearing his throat, “There’s clothes. Inside. Sarah’s. You can, um, you can go and… y’know. Change into them. Walkin’ all the way back to your house doesn’t seem like a… viable… option.”

By then, a blush had already risen to your cheeks just from how delicately Joel was treating you. As if you were something he had to be careful with, like if he didn’t think long and hard about every word coming out of his mouth, there would be consequences. 

“Lead the way.”

Joel gave you a firm smile before swallowing the lump in his throat and motioning for you to follow him as he walked. Once he had the front door open, he let you go in first. Even as you carefully walked past him, you could feel his eyes staring at you.

“Up there,” Joel gestured, “Um, first door on the left. I’ll… be outside.”

As he explained, you subconsciously scanned over the planes of his body—probably a habit you picked up from the multiple weeks of watching him work. But then he was turning to leave, and you could tell he was still really tense. You didn’t know why a simple accident had him so tripped up, but you had the urge to alleviate his worry.

“Hey,” You called, arms wrapped around yourself in an effort to stave off the cold. He turned around, concerned until he saw your soft smile and relaxed a little, “On a scale of one to ten, how sick and tired are you of washing that truck?”

There was only one way to break Joel out of his nervous state; you had to make the situation lighthearted; you learned that from years of watching him hang out with your dad.

He searched your eyes for a beat, eyes completely unwavering, before muttering, “Like a fifty.”

You both breathed a laugh at that. For the briefest moment, you thought you noticed Joel’s gaze flitting to your chest. Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could do a double take, his eyes were glued to yours again.

“So then,” You started, regathering yourself and pushing away whatever your brain was conjuring up, “How do you feel about replacing one lousy chore with another?”

“What kinda chore we talkin’?”

“Well, my closet door’s all screwed up. And you know, instead of apologizing for soaking me by way of expensive concert tickets and a brand new car, like how I know you were planning on doing—”

“—Oh, of course,” Joel sarcastically remarked, playing along as you quickly noticed the worry on his face faded into a crooked grin.

“Well, I really think I can just settle for the closet door fix. Go ahead and save the brand new car for when you break my toaster.”

“Okay, okay,” Joel laughed, “I get it. Go change, then you can lead me to this broken closet door.”

-

Sarah’s clothes definitely belonged to a fourteen-year-old. Not your taste, but then again, if you were fourteen like her, you probably would’ve dressed like that too.

You couldn’t settle on a top, all of them were either too small or bore a graphic design too childish for you. You did find a pair of stretchier shorts that fit alright though, so you decided you’d just pick up one of Joel’s shirts from the pile of clean laundry you saw sitting atop the washing machine downstairs.

When you made it out the front door, the hose was away and his toolbox was resting on the ground by his feet. Joel was drying up his car with a cloth, and when he heard you hop down the steps and subsequently turned your way, you weren’t exactly expecting him to completely stumble at the sight of you in his shirt.

“Oh—You, uh, I thought you were gettin’ Sarah’s clothes?”

“I was, none of her tops fit so I grabbed one of yours from the laundry downstairs.” You absorbed Joel’s cryptic reaction and began to worry. “I’m sorry, Mr. Miller, I really should’ve asked—”

“—No, no, it’s fine. Really. Doesn't matter.”

Joel picked up his toolbox, then the both of you began walking over to your house. It wasn’t that far away at all, probably a couple of hundred feet at most, but he opted into small talk anyway.

“Um,” Joel began, “What’d you come over for in the first place? Didn’t really get a chance to ask ‘cause of this whole… debacle.”

You giggled at his old man vocabulary. Debacle.

“I wanted to help with your car, but looks like those plans got derailed.”

He breathed a polite laugh. “Yeah, well. Guess it turned out that way.”

Before an awkward silence could fall upon the both of you, your brain settled on something to bring up.

“Hey, my dad’s having that July 4th barbecue the day after tomorrow. You’re coming right?”

“Wouldn’t miss it, honey.”

Honey? Honey. Honey honey honey honey—

He cleared his throat. “Where is your dad, anyway?”

You were both standing on your porch now, Joel’s eyes raking you over as you fumbled with the front door.

“Um, I think he’s out working.”

“Great.”

Great?

Before you could ask him what he meant, Joel realized what he had said. “Wait, no, not great. I don’t—I don’t know why I said that. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

You pushed the door open. “Hey,” You brought a hand up to his chest and patted it, “You’ll give yourself a heart attack if you keep assuming all your mistakes are colossal and worthy of that much panic.”

His shoulders seemed to relax a little at that—you weren’t sure if it was your hand or your words that did it.

Eventually, you both found yourselves in your bedroom. You were sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched Joel work. Kneeling on one knee with a screwdriver in hand, he fumbled with one of the closet door’s hinges as he muttered little things to himself under his breath.

“Thanks for this, Mr. Miller.”

He turned to you, nodding as he seemed to process that he was in your bedroom. Your bedroom.

“So,” Joel began, as he dug through his toolbox, “Is your boyfriend visiting too? Or, y’know, girlfriend. Three months is a long ti—”

You softly smiled. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend.”

He turned to look at you again as he turned a screwdriver, this time scanning you over. “Hm, I don’t believe you. Sweet thing like you? Single?”

“Oh, stop,” You blushed, shooing him off.

Joel stood to his feet, dusting his hands off on his thighs. “All fixed. Next time you ne—”

“—I’ve never been in a relationship before. Actually.”

Joel stared at you for a moment before diverting his gaze to the ground. “I, um…”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that. You don’t wanna know about my completely nonexistent dating history,” You lightly smacked your forehead, “Wait, it’s existent if we count the boy I dated for a week in fourth grade.”

Joel laughed, sitting down next to you on your bed. “It’s okay. I haven’t really dated anybody since Sarah’s mom, either. Long-term, anyways.”

“Yeah, well at least you’re not a virgin.”

Joel seemed to tense at that, and you immediately regretted saying it.

“Oh gosh,” You cringed, hands gripping your head, “I really just say anything, don’t I?”

Joel chuckled, head hung between his shoulders with his eyes squinted shut. You eventually laughed, too, simply because—and you realized it sounded stupid—Joel’s laughter was contagious.

“Alright, alright,” Joel beckoned, “Lemme be serious for a second. C’mere.”

You slumped down next to him, staring up at the ceiling before turning to make eye contact.

“That’s not something you have to worry about. You got time, honey, you’re in college. All that crap about late blooming isn’t real. It’s about whenever you’re ready, and whenever you find the right person to do it with.”

You smiled up at him softly. “Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“Joel. Just Joel.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him. So you stayed like that, searching his eyes for something you didn’t have the courage to say out loud.

“Joel,” You echoed, repeating his name back to him, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“I, uh…” Joel trailed off, his gaze flitting down to your lips. “I…” He tried again, but it went nowhere.

You exhaled, and almost immediately, his hands cupped your face as he leaned forward and pressed a soft, fleeting kiss to your lips.

It was warm, and gentle, and amazing, and you didn’t know if you could ever let him stop kissing you with how delightful the scruff of his beard felt against your skin.

He did break the kiss after a few seconds, though, and it left you breathless. “Joel…”

His muscles seemed to visibly tense as he mistook your speechless state for confusion. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why—”

“—No. No, I liked it,” You smiled softly at him, “I, um, you know. Wouldn’t mind if you kissed me… again.”

With reassurance that you weren’t absolutely appalled, his limbs relaxed. He leaned forward again until he was kissing you. Slow at first, languid. But then it turned fervent and desperate, breaths being exchanged into one another's mouths as lips slotted together like fingers intertwined—so perfect, as if they were biologically designed to do so.

It wasn’t long until he had your back flat against your bed, and you felt his growing hardness dig into your hip.

“Y’know what that is, don’t you?”

You nodded hesitantly.

“You know why it’s there?”

You shrugged.

He gripped the fabric of your—no, his—shirt as his voice rumbled, “You prancin’ around in my shirt did that.”

Without a second thought, you clumsily palmed him there through the thick fabric of his jeans and reveled in the consequential shuddering moan he let out

“Joel, I don’t… I don’t think I know what I’m doing.”

“That’s okay, honey, I’ll teach you.”

Propping himself up with his elbow, he placed his hand atop your own and guided the movements of your open palm. Things like pressing your hand further into him so as to increase the pressure between his legs, and encouraging back-and-forth motions that had his hips rutting and his breath hitching.

Once you got the hang of it, he removed his hand from your own. You felt his hand snake down your neck, then the side of your torso. 

“I trust you,” You whispered, fingers playing with the happy trail peaking Joel’s pants, hoping to absolve him of any guilt or doubt.

But the second Joel’s fingertips grazed the waistband of your shorts, he froze. He was staring off somewhere to the right, so you followed his gaze until you found what he was so disturbed by.

A framed photo on your nightstand, one of you standing next to your dad on vacation in Maui.

You understood immediately; that picture was an astute reminder of exactly who’s daughter Joel was about to debauch.

Your hand fell away from his crotch as he leaned back on his haunches and ran his hands through his hair with worried eyes.

“Joel?” You whispered, but then he was completely backing off of you as he muttered curses under his breath. “Hey, no, come back. What’s wrong?”

It was a dumb question. You knew what was wrong. Even though you were well beyond legal, it seemed to mean little in the situation—the facts were, if he touched you, it was betrayal.

“This is…” Joel panted, standing to his feet and raking his hands through his hair, “I shouldn’t have… Fuck. Fuck. I have to go.”

And just like that, he was gone.

-

That night, your lights stayed on and you didn’t close your curtains.

You stripped yourself of Joel’s shirt first, going excruciatingly slow in case Joel happened to be watching through his neighboring window. You occasionally shot glances at his window on the off chance that the window illuminated, but you quickly realized if the two of you made eye contact that wouldn’t be good either. You’d gotten all the way down to your underwear before you spotted his light flick on from the corner of your eye.

So you did the first thing that came to mind; You turned your back to your window. Panties halfway down your legs, torso bent with your knees straightened as you slowly shed your clothing. Hoping. Hoping for him to avert his attention ever so slightly and accidentally catch you like this. Hoping he would think of it every time he talked to you.

Without ever making eye contact, you would never know if Joel actually saw anything, and he would never know you hadn’t actually “forgotten” to close your curtains.

No pressure on either of you.

You went to sleep with a hand shoved down the front of your panties as you thought of all the things you wanted Joel to do to you.

-

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Jesus. What time was it? You stretched until sleep left you and opened your eyes as wide as you could (not very wide at all). From what you could gather, the sun was definitely up. You, however, did not have the willpower required to read off of your phone screen 5 seconds after waking up, so you answered the phone without reading the contact.

“Hello?” You groaned, voice gruff from sleep.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

You knew that voice anywhere. Almost immediately, you shot upright and cleared your throat as you rubbed your eyes. “Oh, hey Mr. Mill—uh, I mean, Joel,” You breathed a nervous laugh before remembering his question, “No. No, it’s okay I was like, basically awake already, um, so… what’s up? Why’d you—Why’d you call?”

“Right, so just to preface, I understand things are not... ideal... between us right now. But to be honest, you’re the only person available who I trust with this, and… let me just explain. I got called into work unexpectedly and Sarah’s gonna be home alone. Lately, she’s been getting into these rebellious fits, and I just don’t want to risk another situation where she sneaks out at night to meet up with her boyfriend again.”

“Sarah and rebellious fits? Really?”

“Yes, believe it or not. So do you think you could just hang around my place for, to be honest, a long while? It’s looking like I’m gonna be home really late tonight. Oh, and I can pay you.”

“Oh, shut up, you’re not paying me.”

Joel exhaled appreciatively through the phone. “Okay, well I’m home right now if you wanna come by and eat some breakfast. Least I could do. I gotta leave in like thirty minutes by the way, so. Take your time but also don’t take your time?”

You smiled, hoping he could hear it in your voice. “Yeah, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thanks, honey.”

Oh god. There it was again. You thought you might actually pass out, but you quickly turned off your racing brain enough to mutter a small “mhm” before abruptly hanging up.

Okay. Joel Miller. Your dad’s best friend, who was this close to absolving you of every ounce of innocence in your body… just asked you to watch his daughter. What could go wrong?

When you got to his house, he had left already (you definitely took too long in the shower). He did leave out a plate of food, though, along with the message, “Thanks again. Enjoy the pancakes,” scratched out on a post-it note.

And boy did it turn out to be a long day. Sarah wasn’t that much of a handful, she mostly took care of herself. The hard part was lunch.

You attempted to cook something for the two of you, but it only ended in disaster when you left the quiches in the oven for too long. Then you decided Penne a la Vodka couldn’t be that hard, and you couldn't be more wrong. A whole box of pasta was ruined because Sarah didn’t realize the pasta went in after the water boiled, not before. Eventually, you both just accepted defeat and ordered Panera Bread.

Later, Sarah popped into the living room to let you know she was going up to her room to take a nap, and you figured you’d do the same on the couch.

The last thing you read was the time on the cable box; 7:37.

-

Metal clanking. The turn of a key. The creaking of a door. The blaring siren of an alarm system.

“Jesus—Fuck. I thought I told her to turn off the alarm at 8.”

And Joel’s voice.

You jolted awake, blinking wide as you moved to sit upright on the couch. The time on the cable box was 11:50.

Soon, the alarm stopped, and not long after, Joel’s figure came into view. He was wearing a denim button-up with work pants and work boots.

“Hey,” Joel called, setting his things down next to the kitchen island.

“Hi,” You replied, “How was work?”

Joel gave you a polite smile before pulling open the refrigerator door to retrieve a beer. With his head still poked inside the fridge, he replied, “The usual.”

“Well, what was the usual li—”

“—Were you asleep?”

“Uh…" You cleared your throat in an effort to stall as you debated whether or not you would lie. "Yeah, I was. Sorry.”

Joel took a swig of his beer, staring at you from across the room for a minute before blurting out, “The usual is busy. Extremely busy and tedious. But, um, how was Sarah? Hope you weren’t asleep too long.”

“Nope,” You lied, “I Wasn’t asleep long at all. Sarah was great. We had a bit of trouble with lunch, but everything ended up fine.”

“Good. Good. Well you can head out now, thanks for taking care of her.”

No. You did not want to "head out." You rose to your feet. “Joel?”

He looked around as he swallowed his beer. “Uh, yeah?”

“I actually wanted to talk to you. About yesterday.”

He peered down at the ground, swishing around the bottle in his hand. “That’s—That’s okay, honey. I think it’s best we forget that happened.”

“What? But why?”

Joel crossed the room and sat down next to you, leaning back against the couch while you sat back down on the edge with your elbows resting on your knees.

“Come on,” He started, “Don’t act like you don’t know exactly why we’re… this… is impossible.”

“Joel, I—”

“—I’m sorry. You should get home now.”

You turned around to face him. “Joel. No one has to know.” 

“As I said, I’m sorry. I handled yesterday… terribly. There were a million different ways to go about that, and I somehow chose the worst one. But we don't work. We can't work.”

You felt your eyes begin to water, but you tried to push the feeling down.

“Hey, hey,” He lulled, the hardness of his attitude falling away as he noticed the sad shine in your eyes, “Don’t cry.” He pulled you against him, rubbing your shoulder firmly.

“Joel,” You mumbled in a small voice, sniffling against his denim shirt with a frown.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to justify what he was quickly realizing was inevitable. You were an adult, somebody else independent of your father. It was your choice who to get involved with, just like it was his. This was mutual.

He knew he would regret it later, but your innocence and desperation allured him to the point of no return.

“It’s late,” Joel began, voice gentle as he offered you one last out, “You should go home. You need sleep, you’re not thinking straight. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“No,” You replied, removing yourself from his body so you could look him in the eye. “I don’t want to leave. I want you to… I want you to do what you said you’d do.”

Knowing exactly what you were talking about, he redundantly asked in a whisper, “And what’s that?”

You wiped a stray tear as you clumsily moved to straddle his lap. Almost automatically, his hands found their way to your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles into the slivers of skin peeking between your cami tank top and the waistband of your shorts. But it seemed at some point his consciousness realized what he was doing because his hands suddenly dropped to his sides. And, well, you just wouldn’t have that, so you grabbed hold of his wrists and returned them to where they were settled on your hips before you rested your own hands on Joel’s chest.

“You remember, don’t you?” You shifted in his lap, “You said you’d teach me.”

“How to have sex.” He said it more like a confirmation rather than a question.

You blushed at his blatant use of the word. It was like every fifth thing coming out of his mouth was sending your brain spiraling. You cleared your throat. “Yeah. Yeah, sex. Blowjobs, orgasms, literal sex. All of it.”

Silence for a beat. “I have one condition,” Joel warned.

“Yeah, what is it?”

“The second I suspect your dad is onto us, that’s it. It’s over. No more messing around, none of it. I can’t lose my best friend.”

You nodded. You probably shouldn’t have agreed so easily, but you didn’t actually think you and Joel would ever get caught.

“Okay, then,” Joel whispered. “Good. What do you wanna do first? Start off easy.”

You looked around the room nervously, careful not to make eye contact as you spoke. “Like. I dunno. Maybe for right now, I could just… touch you. Touch it, I mean.”

Joel nodded, and when your breathing began to grow the slightest bit uneven from nervousness, he noticed and rubbed your upper arm reassuringly. “Hey. Relax. Climb down and sit right there on the ground between my legs, and I’ll show you where to start.”

And so you did. Joel peered down at you with heavy lids as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and thus began your first lesson.

“Unbuckle my pants.”

With shaky hands, you removed his belt and undid his fly. You couldn’t explain why, but as soon as you caught sight of the bulge in his boxers, your mouth watered.

“What…” You began, “What now?”

“Whatever feels comfortable.”

With a light, feathery touch, you delicately traced a singular finger along the outline of his cock. Joel shivered at the contact, hands shooting to grip the sofa. Touching it felt different this time, more intense because you could feel every ridge and vein; you blamed it on the much thinner fabric dividing your fingers and his cock.

Your breath shuddered before speaking, “Can I take it ou—”

“—Yes, God, yes.”

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, pulling downwards until his cock sprang free. It was thick, long, and wet at the tip, and you found yourself instinctively leaning further into it.

“Okay,” Joel sighed shakily, “Now just form a circle with your fingers and stroke it.”

You did as Joel said, and when your fingers finally made contact with his cock, you sighed at how velvety the skin was there. Soft and smooth, except for the trimmed hair surrounding the base. You stroked him steadily, biting your lip as you watched the wetness leaking from his tip spread down his shaft.

“Twist at the tip, honey, twist at the—Yeah, just like that. So good, you’re doing so good.” You couldn’t help but smile when Joel tilted his head back from the pleasure of it all.

With Joel still reeling from the contact of your hand, you took his momentary refusal to look down at you as an opportunity to surprise him a little.

You leaned forward and kitten-licked his tip, and it had him finally making eye contact with you as he whispered, “Oh, do that again.”

And so you did, adoring the look of pleasure strewn across Joel’s face.

Joel offered you a quick, crooked grin. “How’s it feel?” He asked, brushing his thumb along your bottom lip as your tongue played with his tip.

You pulled away for a moment to respond, “How’s what feel?”

“Licking a man’s cock.”

You let the spit that had gathered in your mouth drip down onto his length. “I have the urge to do more with it.”

“Like what?”

“Like put it all the way in my mouth.”

And so kitten licks turned into long stripes up his shift, which turned into eager suckling on his tip, which turned into forcing his cock down as far as it could go without making you gag.

Joel’s hand gripped the back of your head, but he never pushed you down. Whenever you did accidentally end up gagging, he petted your hair, mumbling encouragements as best he could through the blinding pleasure. Things like, “Yeah, honey, doing so good. That’s it. Just a little more. Mhm.” And his affectionate nature, his gentleness, his reassuring words—he was exactly how you hoped he would be like. Not to mention, the general hotness of it all had your hips canting down against nothing, in desperate search of relief.

“M’close, sweetheart. Take it—Take it out.”

“I don’t wanna,” You replied in a hoarse voice as you jacked him off.

“You’re not ready for that, honey, just take it out. Take it out.”

You reluctantly complied, removing him from the tight heat of your mouth, drool dripping down your chin as you stroked him rapidly.

“Joel, I… I think I’m wet.”

He moaned a curse at that, his chest rising and falling in rapid breaths as his orgasm approached him. “Jesus f-fuckin’… Tell me more.”

“I need you to touch it for me next time. Please. Maybe you could… Maybe you could put your mouth on it like how I put my mouth on you.”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, I’m cumming, don’t stop stroking it,” Joel moaned, hot white spurts shooting up and all over your hand as you stroked him through it.

With his breathing still labored, he panted out in a high voice, “You’re lying. You’re f-fucking lying. Tell me the truth.”

“About what?”

“This isn’t—You’ve done this before. No way you made me cum this hard and it’s your first time.”

“Well,” You breathed a nervous laugh, “That’s flattering. But you’re my first. Trust me.”

When his orgasm fully subsided, Joel lay slumped against the sofa with his legs spread wide. You remained between them with your head resting on his thigh as you just stared at his cock. Took it all in, every curve, every vein, and inevitably, the cum that spurted itself over the surrounding area.

“What are you doing?” Joel chuckled, petting your hair as you smiled.

“I’m… I don’t know really. I just can’t stop looking at it.”

But then curiosity got the best of you, and you began to drag your fingers through the mess at his base. It caught Joel off-guard, his entire body stiffening as he watched you.

“What does it taste like?” You asked quietly as you examined the cum on your fingers. 

“Oh my god,” Joel groaned through his labored breathing, “I swear, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll be hard again in five seconds.”

“I’ll take my chances,” You joked, bringing your finger to your mouth and licking it clean, ultimately wincing at the taste. “It’s like, bitter. And salty. And kinda sweet. But mostly bitter and salty. To be honest, it’s kinda nasty but I can see myself getting used to it.”

“Wow,” Joel sighed, “You just really know how to set the mood. Make things real romantic.”

“Oh, shut it,” You huffed, playfully swatting his thigh before getting up and plopping down next to him on the sofa as he got to work stuffing himself back into his pants despite the mess he made—that was a problem for future Joel. 

“Gonna miss you, little Joel,” You joked to his crotch.

“Oh my god, you’re the worst,” Joel chuckled painfully with his fists in his eyes. “I’m never letting you near ‘little Joel’ again.”

“Mm, no, because I just made you cum so hard you thought I was lying about being a virgin.”

He sighed at that. “You got me there.”

“I did, didn’t I?”

You both laughed at that; In fact, you both were laughing a lot. And at everything. In your head, you blamed it on the ecstatic high of being in each other’s presence this way.

When the mutual laughter died down, Joel looked at you for a moment, admiring you. Then, slow and hesitant as ever, he leaned in to kiss you.

“Do you taste it?” You whispered, breaking the kiss as you fought another giggle.

“Yes, actually. Wait, don’t say it please, this is actually a nice moment—”

“—Your cum!” You loud-whispered.

Another sigh. “My cum.”

You eagerly kissed him back after that, swearing off mood-breaking jokes for the rest of the night. Eventually, you even became too tired to kiss, simply letting your forehead rest against his. Your eyes fluttered shut as his hand snaked up your leg and inched under the leg of your shorts, using force to push your legs open wider.

“Need me to take care of this?” He asked into your mouth before letting his kisses travel down to your neck.

“Joel,” You breathed, breaths beginning to come out in rapid succession as your hips gyrated in response to how dangerously close Joel’s hand was to your pussy. “I… I’m tired.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to do a thing,” Joel breathed, removing his hand from beneath your shorts in order to pull down the waistband. “It’s a yes or no question. Just give me a yes or a no.”

Your breath hitched as you opened your eyes and stared at the little bit of empty space left between you and Joel. The throbbing between your legs was bad, but it was something about the delayed gratification of saving things for later that stopped you from saying yes. “No, I… I think that’s it for tonight.”

Joel withdrew his hand, reassuringly cracking a brief smile. “Hey, uh, spend the night. It’s way too late, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

You shrugged. “Yeah, but what about Sarah?” 

“I came home super late, you fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

You thought about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thank you. But I’m taking the couch.”

“What? No—”

“—Joel. I’m taking the couch.”

He looked at you skeptically but then agreed. “If you change your mind just let me know.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

Joel squeezed your leg before getting up and making his way to the stairs. “Goodnight.”

masterlist

A/N: strikethrough means i can't tag you, check your settings

taglist:

@basicoccult @myhusband2cool @fleuraimer @chunguk @xkyxkyxxlylcylulucufifluclu @pintsizedsunshine @s1eepy-bear @daddysuperduperlonglegs @worhols @evyiione @criesside @saph-cyare

@gswizzsstuff @baloobalee @gessmiller05 @trynasurvivelol @yazsos @marchai @pompii @alyssa1216 @daddy-din @msmagix4 @blooming-bubs @huffle-punk @whorrorain @iliketoeatstrawberrypocky @onlineplant @totallynotastanacc @hiddenbabynyc @thedoctorofpoop @kamcrazy123 @afterglowsb-tch13

@redplaidedandcladed @simping-soldat @martyluvsu @mingiast @teddybonkers1960 @brittmb15 @ellswilliams @laurasunsole @senaar-ika @whore4ellie @harrysbitvh123 @atremises @silkiers @bbyanarchist @pawnshopbluess222 @https-hann @cassiesolos @xanqels @jawgrinder

@daylighthrry @victoriamay1357 @jeezkiddo @its-spooky-these-days @pedro-luvr @chibimosa @sagethephantom @loathsome-gargoyle @alejaa-a @greenclues @june-julie @spenciesprincess @donttamethebeasts @alec0 @djarinsimp 

[wtfsteveharrington]

c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader

we've got so much history baby

description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.

warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!

smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.

word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!

a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3

maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway. 

“Where’ve you been tonight?” 

Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.” 

He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”

You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.

When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.

For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.

Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.

And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay. 

Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield. 

Finally he just started sleeping on the couch. 

So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time. 

You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you. 

It didn’t work but does it ever?

Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care. 

Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right? 

And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all. 

You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it. 

One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond? 

Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier. 

Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well. 

A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”

You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter. 

Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner. 

Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed. 

If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.

Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret. 

So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up. 

Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.

And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him. 

Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.

Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out. 

He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you. 

You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that? 

You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again. 

“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused. 

“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.

His eye twitches involuntarily. 

There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen. 

And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.

You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building. 

As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened. 

You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night. 

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like. 

Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you. 

“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm. 

His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?” You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him. 

Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips. 

Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place. 

Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.

Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place. 

“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him. 

He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you. 

There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit. 

He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.

A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.

“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.” 

Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”

He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.” 

Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”

You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily 

“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later. 

He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night. 

Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out. 

It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.

“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly. 

There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement. 

His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how. 

“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.” 

He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.” 

You liked riling him up. 

Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain. 

He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.

So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him. 

Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself. 

Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.” 

That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.

He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible. 

You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.

The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support. 

Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well. 

There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had. 

He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”

You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body. 

Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he? 

He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”

The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone. 

Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all. 

He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail. 

But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away. 

“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse. 

But tonight was different. 

There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.

“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.” 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.

Your sheets smell like home. 

He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable. 

Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.

Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through. 

Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms. 

You never did. 

But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet. 

He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.

It’s still safely tucked into his wallet. 

The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.

Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.

“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to. 

In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex. 

“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.

“Shitty?” 

Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together. 

There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.” 

You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light. 

He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast. 

————

11:52 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going 

12:17 pm

Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well. 

4:39 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now

————

You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time. 

You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred. 

One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day. 

No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it. 

The bed feels so much 

You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.

————

11:28 pm 

Headed to bed 

ONE IMAGE ATTACHED

11:29 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.

11:31 pm

Goodnight Carmen <3

2:12 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you 

ONE VIDEO ATTACHED

————

The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest. 

You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!” 

Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound. 

And there he is. 

Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming? 

The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.

————

8:04 am

HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO

Mine tonight?

Fuck you sound so good

Wish I would have been there to clean you up

Say my name more next time please

How am I supposed to go to work now 

————

No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning. 

So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all. 

A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point. 

————

10:32 am 

[CARMEN]: Busy tonight

————

Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen! 

You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line? 

So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you. 

The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not. 

Ugh!

Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.

If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out. 

But alas.

You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now. 

The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -

Fuck Carmen Berzatto. 

You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!

This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff. 

So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral. 

————

1:47 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey

————

Fuck.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Not to be a downer, but I actually finished my novel and now I’m confused because I don’t want to publish it. I don’t even particularly want anyone other than maybe my two close friends to even read it. What on Earth did I write 40k words (which I know is not really long enough for a novel, but it’s still far and away the longest thing I’ve ever written) for? I know people say “write for yourself” but like… am I just wasting my time? Help?

(p.s. you can leave this off anon)

(p.p.s your blog is really great 👍)

There's No Such Thing as Wasted Writing

I'm going to tackle this two ways...

#1 - "Write For Yourself" - there's a reason this common phrase has echoed through the Hall of Writers since time immemorial. It's because it's true! Writing doesn't have to be anything more than a pastime. It doesn't have to be anything more than something you do for your own benefit and enjoyment.

I have an in-joke with family members about how any time one of us does something the least bit crafty, DIY, skilled, whatever, a particular family member will always say, "You did a great job! You should do it for a living!" Like, someone can't even crochet a Kawaii mushroom without being pressured to turn it into an Etsy dynasty, or paint a cabinet without being pressured to become the next Property Brothers. And that's such a BANANAS capitalistic mindset, isn't it? This idea that nothing can be done purely for our own enjoyment. That you can't just write a novel because you want to... you can only write it if you plan to share it or publish it? It's just so silly.

And, the thing is, we don't even apply that mentality to a lot of other things people do purely for enjoyment. No one is streaming all of Bridgerton in two nights and saying, "I enjoyed every second of that, but why did I do that? Such a waste of time!" No one spends an hour strumming their guitar under the stars on a beach, and then says, "That was so relaxing and fun, but I didn't charge for that performance and I didn't record it to sell it, so that was obviously a waste of time."

You know what I mean?

#2 - And Anyway, Practice Makes Perfect - And if you keep writing--even if you continue not to share or publish--you'll get better and better with each story you write. Which, maybe all that means is you get to appreciate your own improvement, but also, should you ever change your mind and decide to write something to share or publish, you've now spent time honing your skills. Even if those other stories never see the light of day, they're still an important foundation of the writer you become. Do you know how many unpublished novellas, novels, and short stories I have? Too many to count. Hundreds of fan-fiction and original fiction short stories I've only shared with one or two other people, if anyone. A dozen or so novels and novellas that have only been read by a few people, and some haven't been read by anyone else or have only been read by my CPs. I would never consider those stories and novels and novellas to be a waste of time, because I know every single one made me a better writer. My published work is better because I wrote those other things.

So, I hope that makes you feel better. At the very least you hopefully enjoyed writing your novel--or at least got something out of it--and you definitely honed your writing skills, which matters! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[berryyuni]

the good in the bad - yjw

✿ heroes and villains aren't meant to be together... that's what you and jungwon thought at least. perhaps your views have changed after having to work together with the yang jungwon. who would've thought.

pairing - hero!jungwon x villain!fem!reader (ft. heeseung and nct dream's jeno) genre - enemies to lovers, slow burnish, angst, fluff wc - 7.6k warnings - swearing, blood, violence, weapons, daddy issues, betrayal, jungwon's mean to the reader, kissing requested

tiana's note 🎀 - i'm so sorry this took so long to get out ! there was so many details i wanted to add, i know i could've added more but this was the best i can do. i really really had fun writing this, this is the longest fic i've ever written and it's something very different from something i'd usually write. thank you anon for requesting this !

౨ৎ reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated !! <3 ✧˖° ... (library)

“this way! come on!” jeno yelled as he darted around the corner. you were right on his tail, making sure you don't stray behind.

the building's alarm blared into the calm, quiet night along with the loud footsteps of your pursuers. let’s just say that some people aren’t necessarily happy with what you have stolen. 

you had pulled off countless jobs: successfully breaking into buildings, swiftly looting them, and disappearing into the night. you were pretty much considered a pro at committing crimes. but something about tonight was different. the shadowstone - supposedly a very rare stone, one that can "change lives" once you lay hands on it. selling this would earn you millions. you needed this.jeno  as he darted around . were right on his tail, making sure you don't stray behind.the building's alarm blared into the calm, quiet night along with the loud footsteps of your pursuers.

you had pulled off countless jobs: successfully breaking into buildings, swiftly looting them, and disappearing into the night. you were pretty much considered a pro at committing crimes. but something about tonight was different. the shadowstone - supposedly a very rare stone, one that can "change lives" once you lay hands on it.you needed this

what you didn’t expect was the large swarm of people chasing you right after you’d stolen it. normally, the ear piercing alarm would go off, signaling that it was your time to disappear off into the night, but tonight felt oddly controlled, almost as if they were waiting for you to steal the stone. almost like it was all planned out…

but that didn’t concern you. the only thing on your mind right now was to escape with your new shiny prize.

11 hours ago…

“heeseung, what’s the reason for this? what am i looking at?” jungwon asked with a puzzled look on his face. heeseung had called for him to his headquarters - something that wasn’t so common as jungwon usually handles his missions on his own. heeseung only asks for him when it comes to serious matters. this must be one of those cases.

“y/n l/n, she also goes by the name of ‘echo’,” heeseung explained, walking towards jungwon, “she is known to be one of the deadliest - not to mention, skilled villains as of right now. she’s made quite the name for herself.”

jungwon’s brow furrowed, “what does she have anything to do with my mission?”

“i need you to locate and bring her to me immediately. she has something i want,” heeseung commands, his gaze intense.

jungwon pondered for a moment. how is he supposed to find you? you’re in a very large city, you can be anywhere. and more importantly, why, out of all heroes, does he have to find you? 

“jungwon,” heeseung said sternly, bringing him back to reality, “don’t let me down.”

“yes, sir.” he replied. with a wave, heeseung dismissed him.

now to hunt you, echo, down.

present…

after what felt like an eternity of running, you and jeno finally reach a quiet, secluded alleyway. you no longer heard the yells and footsteps of your pursuers so you assume you’re finally alone. kneeling over, you try to catch your breath. jeno doing the same. once your eyes met his, the two of you laugh and celebrate another successful run. he made his way over to you with his hand up, waiting for a high five. 

“another point for us,” he said excitedly. “i can already smell how rich we’re going to be.”

you laughed, breathless, “right? jeno, this is huge. this is going to change our lives, maybe we can finally settle down after this.” 

you noticed how his eyes lit up, “you really think so?”

“i do. the shadowstone is worth millions, i’m sure it’ll get us the money for the house we wanted,” grinning at him, you put your hand on his shoulder, “imagine months from now, we’re living in our dream house, we’ve retired from this job of ours and we’re finally living in peace… we can finally live the life we deserve, jeno.”

he smiles at you, putting his hand on top of yours, “i would do anything to live that life,” he glanced down at the satchel that rested at your hip and nudges his head towards it, “let’s see that stone of ours?”

“let’s do it.” 

as you started to reach in your bag to grab the stone, jeno says, “stay here, i’m going to go check if the coast is clear.” 

you nodded as you began to rummage through the bag. your hands finally make contact with the stone. you sighed in content, pulling it out. as you observed the sharp, black stone that sat in your hands, your smile began to fade. the stone wasn’t glimmering, translucent gem you were expecting. instead, it was dull, solid - fake. “fake…” you muttered, heart dropping.

just as you were about to warn jeno, you heard him yell, “echo, run!” but before you could even react, a man appears in front of jeno, attacking him. jeno tried to fight back only for his punches to be blocked, resulting in him being stabbed in the stomach, collapsing to the ground.

hearing his cries of pain, you gasp, tears blurring your vision, “jen-“ you try to run to him but you couldn’t. another man appears behind you and grabs you by the arms. no matter how much you try to kick and break free from his grasp, he’s too strong for you.

“no running now, freak,” he whispers into your ear. “we got her, jakah.” 

jakah? you’ve heard that name before somewhere but you can’t seem to recall at the moment. your brain was scattered, nothing made sense. you feel yourself being turned around in the man’s grasp and there you were met with a man that had a tall, lean build. dark brown hair covered his eyes but you still were able to feel his piercing gaze. his energy exuding power and confidence. he was not here to mess around. 

you were being pushed closer to him. your eyes meet. those eyes. they were captivating. you almost couldn’t look away from him. you didn’t want to. no. you can’t let yourself surrender to him. 

jakah observed you for a moment. his eyes trailed all over your figure - you felt like you could shrink just under his gaze. once he turned his attention back to your face, he tilts his head and clicks his tongue, “you’re not as deadly as he said you’d be… what happened?”

hearing this made anger run through your body. without thinking, you stomped on the foot of the man holding you, causing him to loosen his grip. you took this opportunity to swing around and punch him in the face to create some distance between you. as he’s doubled over in pain, you quickly grabbed your dagger that you had hidden in your leg and swung it at jakah, making contact with his cheek. 

his quick reflexes allowed him to grab your wrist to prevent further injury. your eyes widen at how strong he is, he brings his free hand to wipe away the droplets of blood coming from his cheek, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement, “don’t even bother fighting back, echo. you’ll waste your energy.” he smirks, pushing you to the ground. 

before you could react, jakah pulled out a gun and aims it at you. 

this was it. this was the end for you. as you began to accept the fact that this may be the last few moments being alive, a surge of electricity runs through your body and everything went black.

you slowly began to regain consciousness, groaning as you slowly opened your eyes. you found yourself tied to a chair, the ropes dug into your wrists and ankles. you try to free yourself, but the ropes were too tight. “shit.” you muttered, frustrated. 

taking in your surroundings, you realized that you’re being held in someone’s headquarters. in front of you was a man that had his back turned to you. in the dim lights you could make out the red tint in his hair. 

“she’s awake, sir.” a voice said from behind you, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

“good,” the man in front of you turned around, revealing his face. “it’s about time.” he smirked.

“what did you do to jeno?” was the first thing you said. you didn’t care about your safety, you just wanted to know if jeno was even alive.

“hello to you too,” the man started walking towards you, “do you know who i am or where you are?”

“why would i?” you spat out, struggling against the rope, “does it look like i care about that?” 

“there’s no point in struggling. you’re only making it worse,” jakah said, next to you. “you can’t escape anyway.”

you glare at him only to be met with his cold gaze. you realize there’s no point in talking to him. “why am i here?” you turn your focus back to the red haired man who stared at you intently, “if this is me finally being caught for my crimes… it sure isn’t how i envisioned it would be.”

“and how would that have been?” he asked, feigning amusement.

“oh you know, a handsome, charming man sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to my roomy cell,” you turn to jakah and scanned his face, “could’ve been you, you seem to fit the role perfectly. what a shame.” you sighed.

his glare only deepens, “you think you’re so funny-“

“jungwon.” the man in front of you interrupted sternly, “that’s enough.” the supposed jungwon looks down at his feet.

“why am i here?” you repeated, growing impatient, “you never answered my question.”

“you’re here because you’re the key to something i want.” he said, causing you to raise an eyebrow. “find me that amulet.”

the energy in the room shifts as you processed what the man said. it feels like time slowed down. anyone would be able to feel the coldness radiating off of you. jungwon watched your reaction closely, confused.

“…you’re heeseung.” your eyes darkened, “so it is you.”

“it’s nice to see you again, y/n,” he smiled. but behind that smile had so much meaning. jungwon had a feeling there was something he didn’t know. but for his sake, he chose not to interfere. you had gone silent as painful, buried memories began to resurface. you wanted to make them stop.

heeseung continued, “i need you to find the amulet for me.”

“why should i help you?” you snapped, “how do i know you’re not gonna just send me to my death?”

“you know what would happen if that amulet is in the wrong hands. we can’t afford to let chaos ensue once he finds what he’s looking for,” he pressed, “and you won’t be going alone, jungwon will be coming with you.”

“what?” the both of you said simultaneously causing you to glare at each other. “i don’t need a babysitter. it’d be quicker if i went alone.” you argued.

“and have you run off? no, that’s not happening. jungwon is coming with you to make sure you return with the amulet.”

you scoffed, “of course, you don’t trust me.” you can feel both pairs of eyes on you, waiting for you answer. “what’s in it for me?”

“if you come back with the amulet, i will release you and jeno and you will have the chance to throw away this life and start a new one without anyone coming after you, just like you wished.”

jeno’s still alive. you felt a sense of relief wash over your body after hearing those words leave his mouth. but for some reason, you couldn’t help but be skeptical at his proposal. it felt too easy. it could be a trap.

“how do i know you’ll keep your word? how do i know you won’t just send people after us?” you questioned.

“i have no interest in what you do besides this. i only need you for this matter so you will be free to go if you succeed.”

“and if i don’t succeed?”

“you’ll be joining jeno in the cells. and be handed over to the authorities.”

figures. you contemplated for a moment. from what you were understanding, you and jeno’s future relies solely on you finding this amulet - to which you may or may not know where and how to find it. it doesn’t hurt to try though. you and jeno needed this.

“okay,” you sighed, “i’ll help you find the amulet,” this caused heeseung to nod, but you continued, “but i need to see jeno first. i have to make sure he’s okay.”

“that can be done.” heeseung said, nodding to jungwon so that he can untie you. you rubbed your wrists as soon as you were freed. “make it quick though, the sooner you leave the better. jungwon, show her to jeno’s cell.”

“come on,” he gestured for you to follow. you quickly caught up to him, eager to see jeno. 

you followed him down the hall revealing numerous cells, however there was no one in them. just jeno. he was sitting on the ground, head buried in his knees. seeing him in such state made your stomach turn. “jeno,” you called out, immediately running over to him. he looks up at the sound of your voice. his face lights up and he scrambled closer to the bars.

“y/n,” he says, relieved, “you’re okay. i thought you were-“

“i’m okay,” you reassured, grabbing his hand, “i’m going to get you out of here, okay? i just need to find that amulet for them then we’ll be okay.”

jeno’s eyes widen and shakes his head, “the amulet? no, you can’t go y/n. that’s not going to end well.”

“i have to, jeno.” you whisper, “for us. heeseung and i made a deal. we’re free once i find it for him.”

“and you trusted him just like that? it sounds weird…”

“what other choice do i have? it was either freedom or being stuck here. i’m willing to take a risk.”

jungwon stood off to the side, waiting for you to finish your conversation with jeno. there was a lot he didn’t know: you and jeno’s relationship, how you knew heeseung, your connection with the amulet. he was completely in the dark. but he knew it wasn’t his place to pry for answers. if anything, he doesn’t want anything to do with you. why would he want to? you’re from very different worlds, that aren’t meant to be combined. he doesn’t trust you. he’s only doing this to prove to heeseung that he trusted the right person. he doesn’t want to let him down. never. 

“just… be safe, okay? you need to come back.” jeno pleaded, “i can’t lose you.”

“i promise i’ll be back. don’t worry about me,” you lean in closer to whisper the last part, “besides, i have myself this fine man coming with me.” you joked, making jeno scoff at you.

“of course in a situation like this, you’d find someone to thirst over.”

you had to admit, jungwon was an attractive man. you couldn’t help but be drawn to his captivating feline-like eyes, button nose, and quiet persona. jungwon had a lot of qualities that make you curious about him. he intrigued you. you knew there’s a lot more than what he shows on the outside. a part of you wanted to dig deeper into who he is - jungwon, not jakah.

“it’s time to go,” jungwon says, “let’s get this done as soon as we can.” and with that, he began to walk away, leaving you no choice but to quickly say your goodbyes to jeno and chasing after him - finally setting off onto your journey.

nothing was more awkward than this very moment. ever since you and jungwon began your journey, not a single word has been exchanged between you. the only thing that could be heard was the crunch of gravel underneath your feet. you didn’t mind it since you barely knew jungwon - plus it didn’t look like he wanted anything to do with you anyways. but you had to admit, it was getting boring having to walk in silence. you decide to take one for the team and open up a conversation. 

“so,” you started, “your real name’s jungwon? and your hero name is jakah. how did you come up with it?” you asked, expecting a reply from him. but nope, you were only met with silence. “okay,” you muttered, “i don’t know how i thought of ‘echo’ to be honest, it kind of just-“

“can you not?” he interrupted, voice filled with impatience, “i really don’t care about what you have to say.” his walking pace sped up so now he was walking in front of you.

sucking in a breath, you try to maintain your composure, “look i get it, you hate me for what i am and you were forced into this mission but i’m doing us both a favor to try to make this experience at least somewhat enjoyable.”

“okay, well don’t. you’re not my friend. i don’t trust you and i don’t like you. if it weren’t for the mission, i would’ve handed you and that partner of yours to the authorities myself.“ 

you weren’t going to lie, that stung a little. “hey, fuck you too. it’s not like i had a choice either. you were the one that kidnapped us so if anything you put yourself into this mess. you could’ve left us as is but no, you had to go and prove that you were good enough to your precious heeseung.” you argued, if he wants to be an asshole, you’ll be one in return.

jungwon’s face flushed with anger. he hated how right you were. he hated how you knew that he accepted this mission to show heeseung how capable he is to have a job as big as this. he hated you. “tell me where the amulet is. i’ll go get it myself.” he demanded.

“no.” you said firmly, “you won’t be able to get it without me. like heeseung said, i’m the ‘key’ to finding it.” you decided to end the conversation right there. 

as you were about to continue walking, you feel jungwon pull harshly at your wrist. “bullshit. you’re not the key. i don’t care about how special you think you are to this mission, tell me where the amulet is.” 

“or what? you’ll kill me? leave me for dead? you don’t scare me, jungwon. i’ve been through it all.” you yank your wrist from his grasp, glaring at him.

“fuck this.” he mutters, walking away from you.

“where are you going?” you yell.

“i’m finding the amulet myself.” he yells back, his figure shrinking as he walked away.

“asshole.” you muttered under your breath. there was nothing else you could do. it was very evident jungwon hates you and couldn’t even stand being around you.

that’s his problem.

you genuinely had no idea how jungwon would find the amulet on his own. he had no leads. you tried to warn him. for once, you wanted to be a good person and help someone out, but of course it blows up in your face. maybe this was just how things are for you - always trying to do the right thing, only for you to face the consequences. maybe it’s just a fated thing for you to be a villain. 

as you walked to your destination, your mind couldn’t help but wander off to jungwon. this was the dangerous part in the city. it’s basically the abandoned part, no one dares to go here. it has everything bad you can imagine - thieves, gangs, all the sketchy things. you knew this place like the back of your hand unlike jungwon. this was your territory and that is why you should’ve stuck with him. he could get himself killed here. but wait, why are you worrying so much about him? why are you wondering where he is or if he’s even okay? it’s not your business. he was the one that wanted to go off on his own. he hates you. you remind yourself.

but he needs me.

as embarrassing as it is to admit, jungwon was completely lost. he had no idea where he was going. and the fact that the night time is slowly approaching does not help with his situation. everything’s starting to look the same to him. he could’ve sworn he saw that tree 3 times already. is he just going in circles at this point?

jungwon mentally cursed at himself for letting his stubbornness take over. maybe it was a good idea for you to lead the way since it did look like you knew what you were doing. but did he want to admit that? no, not at all. you were a villain and to him, all villains are the same - cold and heartless. of course, he would have his guard up. 

…but was he too harsh? the more jungwon recalled your conversation, the more he started feeling somewhat guilty? to how he treated you. you never really fought back unless you had to, you were just doing what you had to do.

jungwon was conflicted. he can’t seem to figure you out. you’re not like any of the villains jungwon has come across. you haven’t tried to kill him or cause harm ever since you started the mission. in fact, you were so willing to go and find the amulet for heeseung - and you’re pretty determined to find it. why is that? and why are you being so secretive about the location of the amulet? why were you the “key”? there were too many unanswered questions. he wants to know more, more about you. 

wait what?

snapping out of his thoughts, jungwon checks back into reality only to find him falling to the ground with a rope tied around his ankles. he must’ve stepped into a trap while he wasn’t paying attention. panicking, he tries to quickly untie himself but is suddenly pinned down by a masked man holding a knife to his throat. 

“well, well, well, what is jakah doing out here all by himself?” the man cackles. jungwon looks around frantically for his gun but finds it a few inches away from him. it was too far for him to reach. “where’s your little girlfriend? did she leave out here to die? classic echo.” the outline of the man’s wide grin can be seen through his mask, “guess you’ll have to die out here alone. well deserved.” 

jungwon could feel the blade pushing deeper and deeper into his neck. he winces in pain but suddenly he feels the man’s hand go limp. he opens his eyes to find that a blade has gone through the man’s chest, blood dripping all over him. he falls off to the side. 

it was you. you saved him.

breathing heavily, you stare at jungwon. he stares back, expression unreadable. did you run to him? how did you find him? “it’s you.” he let out a small breath of relief.

you haven’t looked away from him. jungwon observed your expression. you looked relieved? hesitantly you asked, “are you hurt?”

he shook his head, “no, i’m okay.” you nodded, bending down to help untie his ankles. you helped him up afterwards. neither of you knew what to say. last time you talked, it ended badly. you didn’t want it to happen again but at the same time, you wanted to stay by his side. you can feel his eyes on you - scared to look at him, you looked somewhere else. “…i think you should lead the way.” you heard him say softly, catching you by surprise. the only thing you could do was nod. for once, you didn’t have anything to say. jungwon wasn’t used to it.

you were getting closer to your destination. the building was in sight. all you had to do was cross a bridge and go through a run-down building then you have made it. the closer you got, the more the nerves started to kick in. this was not how you expected your day to go. you were not expecting to run an errand for good guys. you were not expecting to see that person again. you didn’t want to.

noticing the slight shift in your energy, jungwon looks to you and asks, “is everything okay?”

“hm? oh… yeah i’m fine. just thinking…” you replied, trailing off. jungwon waited for you to continue your sentence but you didn’t. “we’re almost there. we just need to cross this bridge and enter that building, then we can bring the amulet back to your boss,” you paused, “then i’ll be out of your way.” you gave him a small fake smile but he could easily see through it.

you weren’t going to lie, you didn’t want the mission to end. to your surprise, you enjoyed your time with jungwon even if it was rough at first. it was a different experience, but a good one. you liked being on the good side for once. you also couldn’t ignore the fondness you have developed for the boy… you were going to miss this.

jungwon only nodded, feeling a strange pang in his heart. to his surprise, he also felt a bit of disappointment that the mission was coming to an end. he has grown used to your company in a short amount of time. he’s not used to having a partner but honestly, he likes it. it’s going to be hard for him going back to working alone.

the two of you walked in a comfortable silence but that was soon interrupted when you suddenly gasped in disbelief, “no way!” 

confused, jungwon watches you run ahead to look at something over the bridge railing, “where are you going?” he asks, catching up.

he looks at you and notices an excited expression on your face. his gaze slightly softens as he observes this rare expression, “it still looks the same…” you whisper. jungwon looks to where you were looking. there was a small pond surrounded by a beautiful field of healthy grass filled with white daisies. a weeping willow stood nearby, adding to the scene. it looked like something straight out of a storybook. it was very much different sight to see compared to what you have seen throughout your journey.

you turned to jungwon with a grin, “i used to go here a lot as a kid. i’d sit by the pond and take in the silence…” you reminisced, tons of memories were coming back to you - the good and bad.

“you’ve been here before?” jungwon asked, seeing a hint of sadness in your eyes.

“i grew up here actually.” you confessed softly, “it didn’t always use to look like this,” you said, gesturing to the area around you. “it was nice actually, quiet.”

“i can see why you liked this place…” he commented, taking in the beautiful sight in front of him. he’s never seen you this calm before.

you thought carefully about what you wanted to say next. for some reason, you felt like you could tell jungwon anything at this moment. you felt safe. “you must be so confused on what exactly it is we’re doing,” you chuckled, grabbing jungwon’s attention, “uhm, you know how heeseung said that i was the key to getting the amulet?” he nodded slowly, “well, that’s because the person who has the amulet is my father.” jungwon’s eyes widened, it’s all starting to make sense now. “i haven’t seen him in years. i’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know that i’m alive.” you let out a bitter laugh.

“what do you mean by that?” jungwon asked cautiously. judging by your tone, this might be something you’d want to talk about. he’s not expecting you to open up to him especially with how he has treated you.

“i hope you realize i’m about to trauma dump you,” you joked, jungwon didn’t laugh. instead, he looked concerned - something that completely caught you off guard. because of this, your expression changed back to a serious one. “i wasn’t always like this,” you gestured to yourself, “bad, i mean. in fact, growing up i wanted to be a superhero. the idea of saving and helping people always spoke out to me as well as having people look up to you. but, not all dreams come true.” you sighed, “my father isn’t exactly the greatest person, in my opinion. i mean, he left me for dead at a very young age just to save that precious amulet of his. it’s funny cause i actually know heeseung,” hearing his name, jungwon perks up, “heeseung’s been looking for that amulet for all these years because of the secrets it holds. like he said, it being in the wrong hands can lead to chaos,” your eyes begin to water as you recall past events, “one day, my father and i were cornered by heeseung and his men. he demanded for the amulet but, my dad refused. a fight broke out, i tried to hide somewhere but my dad threw a bomb as a distraction and ran off, leaving me behind. everyone leaves, it was just me. i thought my dad would come back for me but nope. i was all scared and alone. so i had to do what i could to survive and unfortunately those things weren’t necessarily considered to be good acts…”

“heeseung didn’t save you? and where was your mom?” he asked, puzzled why heeseung would leave you behind.

“heeseung didn’t care about me. all he wanted was the amulet. and my mom died when i was a baby - complications during birth.”

“i’m so sorry…” jungwon placed his hand on top of yours, rubbing soothing circles. you looked down at your hands, surprised by his sudden gesture. your heart fluttered at his actions. “that must’ve been so hard to go through all alone.”

“i wasn’t alone.” you smile fondly, “i had jeno.”

“what is jeno to you exactly?” you raise an eyebrow at him, “if you don’t mind me asking…”

“why? are you jealous?” you tease.

“no.” yes he was. “i’m just trying to get to know you better.” he quickly clarified.

“you definitely weren’t trying to do that before,” you laugh, “but no, jeno’s not my boyfriend. he’s just someone really special to me. he found me when i was all alone and he stuck by my side through it all. he saved me when i needed somebody the most. so i owe him my life really.”

“is that why you accepted the mission so quickly, despite your father?” he asked.

you nodded, “i can’t just leave him there. he needs me. and it could give us the life we’ve always wanted.”

“and what’s that life you’ve always wanted?” jungwon’s not sure what possessed him but he built up the courage to get a little closer to you. his entire body now facing you.

flustered by the close proximity, you stuttered, “uhm not having to commit any more crimes. living in a quiet, peaceful area, nothing coming to bother us. just enjoying each other’s company…” you trailed off, looking into jungwon’s eyes, neither of you wanting to break eye contact. you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes flickered to your lips.

“and you want to live this life with jeno?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. his hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“yes…” you whisper.

“okay.” was all he said, before turning his attention back to the pond.

you needed a second to calm down your racing heart. “well, i basically just told you my entire life story, what’s yours?” you ask.

he shrugged, “there’s not much to tell. just your average superhero origin story.”

you scoff, “please, i’m sure your story is very entertaining. i wanna learn more about you.”

he breathes out “well, kind of like you, i have always been on my own my whole childhood. but that was my choice. i’ve always wanted to be a superhero so i made that my entire life. i was dead set on becoming one so i ran at every opportunity to help people. eventually, all my acts got heeseung’s attention so he took me under his wing. he trained me and got me to where i am today. i’ve always looked up to him and never wanted to let him down. i guess it’s cause i don’t want him to regret choosing me to become a hero...”

“you’re a good person, jungwon.” you say, “i have a lot of respect for you actually. i think heeseung’s very lucky to have you. he’d be an idiot to not recognize all that you’ve done.” you smile.

“you know, you’re not the scary villain you make yourself to be.”

you laugh, “everyone has some layers to them.”

you and jungwon finally reach your father’s hideout. standing in front of the door, you let out a shaky breath. you feel jungwon’s hand on your shoulder, “hey, i’m right here.” he offers you a reassuring smile.

“here goes nothing.” you mumbled, opening the door.

you slowly walk in, looking for any sign of him. you gesture for jungwon to look around. as you wandered around and took in the details of his hideout, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the past. how could he just leave you like that? you always thought you and your father had a strong relationship but apparently not since he was able to leave you so easily. you wondered if things would’ve been different if he never left you. maybe you could’ve walked down the better path. but that would mean that you’d never have met jeno… and even jungwon. that’s something you can’t even imagine - and you don’t even want to.

“y/n,” you hear jungwon call out anxiously. you quickly turn your head towards the sound of his voice and the scene in front of you causes you to freeze. there stood your father pointing a gun at jungwon, his hands were in the air, silently praying that he wouldn’t get shot.

you let out a shaky breath, “put down the gun. he’s with me.”

to your surprise, he slowly lowered the gun, “you’ve grown so much.” he said, his voice tinged with nostalgia. 

“well that’s what growing up does to you. you could’ve seen it if you hadn’t abandoned me.” you said coldly.

“i did what i had to.” he defended, causing you to roll your eyes.

“you did what you had to?” you scoffed, “so leaving me for an amulet was your top priority. wow, you deserve a ‘dad of the year’ award.” you say, sarcastically. 

“we’re not doing this right now, what even brings you here? why are you suddenly working with a superhero.” he motions towards jungwon, who’s eyes were only on you.

“that shouldn’t concern you,” you shook your head, “i need the amulet.”

“i’m not giving you the amulet, y/n.” he sighed, “you should know that.”

“i see you’re still the same,” you spit out, “you stole that amulet, dad. what good does that even do for you? it’s been years and you haven’t even done anything with it. why do you want to live the rest of your life in hiding?”

“i need this amulet for answers, y/n. don’t you want to find out more about our family history?”

“there’s a reason why this amulet was locked away. maybe those secrets could do more harm than good,” you look down at the ground, “besides, i have no interest in our family… i had to learn the hard way that i don’t even have one.”

the room goes silent at your words. all jungwon wanted to do was pull you into your arms and tell you that it wasn’t true - that you are loved and you have a family.

“i know you want nothing to do with me. but please, give me the amulet. you’ll never see my face again, i promise. i really really need it,” you beg, you don’t even care how pathetic you look now. all you wanted was to get this stupid amulet and save your best friend. “i have so much on the line.”

you honestly have no idea what you had just said because suddenly you see that the amulet has been tossed at your feet. you quickly bend down to pick it up and examine it. you had to make sure it wasn’t a trap. “i don’t know why you need this so badly or what even happened but… the last thing i want to is my daughter to lost whatever she has left.”

your eyes fill your tears but you quickly blink them away. “thank you.” you whisper.

“now go before i regret it.” he said with an awkward laugh.

you nod and begin to walk out but you were stopped by your father calling out to you, “i know i wasn’t the best dad but… i do love you, y/n. and i wish you the best in everything.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. it definitely wasn’t something you were expecting. but due to your circumstances, you couldn’t really give him a proper answer… so all you did was give him a sad smile before leaving.

once reaching the outside again, you and jungwon immediately make your way back to heeseung. you felt like you can finally breathe again. you stare at the amulet in your hands. this was what ruined what you had left of a family - this chunk of gold. “are you okay?” you hear jungwon say.

you nodded, smiling out of reflex, “yeah, of course. let’s just get back, yeah?”

his gaze lingered on you, a concerned expression on his face“you know, you don’t always have to put on a strong face. it’s okay to let your walls down, y/n.” 

his words made you stop. the walls you’ve spent years building suddenly crumble before you. your breath hitches and for some reason, you were no longer able to hold back your tears. jungwon, without hesitation, pulls you into his embrace.

“it’s just hard,” you sobbed into his shoulder, “ i don’t even know how i got here. how did i fall down this path? i don’t want it.” 

“it’s not your fault, y/n.” he comforted, “it’s never too late to start all over. you have it in you, you can be the person you want to be. it’s all over now, you and jeno can finally leave. you deserve it.”

“but i don’t want to leave you.” you confessed, pulling away from him.

his shoulders fell and he gently cupped your cheeks, wiping away your tears with his thumbs, “i don’t want to leave you either,” he admits softly, “but you deserve a chance at a second life.”

you stare into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them. never would you have thought that you’d fall for the yang jungwon. the same goes for him. you’re from two very different worlds, it was never expected you’d even be on good terms with each other. but apparently in your situation, it was possible. it was something special.

“heeseung? we’re back.” jungwon announces, heeseung immediately runs up to you.

“you got the amulet?” he asked, a little surprised that you managed to make it back.

“right here,” you pull out the amulet and gave it to him.

he sighs in relief and examines the amulet, “finally,” he mutters under his breath. you watch heeseung in anticipation, waiting for his next words, “good work.” he comments. 

you see him glance at someone from behind you, gesturing something. before you could look back, you felt your wrists being restrained, “w-wait, what are you doing?” you panic.

“you really think i’d let a villain run loose? wow, you really are pathetic.” heeseung snickers, “lock her up.” he tells the man that’s restraining you. 

shock ran through your body as you try to process what had just happened. you struggle against the restraints and resist the man holding you back but the more you tried, the weaker you felt. your heart races as you were being dragged towards the cells.

“jungwon!” you call out in desperation.

“hey, this wasn’t part of the deal!” he yelled, attempting to run to you but heeseung holds him back. “let her go!” he tries to fight back but it’s no use. you’re already gone.

jungwon looks at heeseung in disbelief, “let her go.” he commands.

“since when did you care about her?” heeseung’s face drops, “don’t tell me you’ve fallen for her… do you know who she is?”

“i know that she’s a good person. she just fell down the right path but she’s capable.” he defends. “and you,” jungwon points a finger at heeseung’s chest, “you could’ve helped her. she wouldn’t be where she is right now if you’d help her when she was a kid. but you left her.” he accused. “you’re no better than her father.”

heeseung’s face hardens the more jungwon accuses him, “that’s not how you talk to your boss. don’t let your emotions take over.”

“i’ll talk to you however i want to!” he retorts, “you let her suffer. you could’ve saved her but you chose not to. you’re just as responsible for how she turned out.”

you sat in your cell, listening to every word that was being exchanged between heeseung and jungwon. you could hear the echoes of jungwon’s heavy footsteps as he walked away in frustration. now it was just you left alone once again. 

you pull at your hair in anger. what now?

it felt like hours since you’ve been locked up. you sat against the wall in defeat. you lost. you don’t know what to do anymore. you shouldn’t even be surprised. of course you’d get locked up - you’re a bad guy after all and that’s a hero’s job, put away the bad guys. you should’ve have gotten your hopes up. “jeno?” you croaked.

he hummed in response, “i’m sorry.” you say, your voice cracking, “this is my fault. i shouldn’t have trusted them.”

“it’s not your fault, y/n. stop blaming yourself for things that are out of your control. you did what you could.” he says gently.

“we’re never going to be able to be free. it’s never going to happen.”

“you don’t know that,” he whispers, “this might be another one of those sticky situations we get stuck in. we’ll get out of this.”

“it’s not that likely.” you sigh. you close your eyes, feeling exhausted and drained. there really was nothing you could do. all you could do was just sit and await your fate.

moments pass until you hear hurried footsteps coming towards your direction. you perk up, in caution. turning the corner, revealed jungwon who was out of breath. “jungwon?” you stood up and walked closer to the bars. jeno perks up, watching the two of you.

“i’m getting you guys out of here,” he whispers, “i’m not letting you stay here.”

your heart flutters once more. this boy will never fail to surprise you. “but what about heeseung? he’s gonna kill you once he finds out you let us out.” you asked, concerned.

“that doesn’t matter to me. you’re more important.” jungwon opens your cell and quickly moves over to jeno’s. 

“why are you helping us?”

“because i know there’s more to you than being a bad guy. you’re a good person, y/n. you just need a chance.” your gaze softens, “come on, hurry. follow me.”

the three of you run through a hidden passageway jungwon found. next thing you knew, you were able to be the light again. you walked until there was some good distance between you and heeseung’s place. reality begins to hit you and you start to realize what’s about to happen. you look at jeno and he gives you a smile before walking away, giving you and jungwon some space. you stand, looking down at your feet, not being able to look at jungwon. you feel him getting closer to you, feeling his breath hit your face. “you made it.” he whispers, tilting your chin up to look at him.

“thanks to you,” you smile at him. “you saved me...”

“you saved me first,” he laughs softly, his smile then falters, “is… it selfish of me to say that i don’t want you to go even though i saved you?”

you laugh, “i don’t think so. i don’t want to leave you behind either.” your eyes well up with tears, “god, jungwon what have you done to me?” you sniffle.

jungwon lets out a small laugh before closing the distance between you. his lips press against yours, almost out of desperation. you return the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. you let your tears fall. you wish this moment could last forever… but unfortunately all good things must come to an end eventually.

you kissed until you ran out of air. pulling away, jungwon wipes your tears away and kisses your forehead. “you guys should start heading out. i don’t want heeseung finding you.” he says, voice wavering. 

you nod sadly, “yeah…”

“i’ll come find you, i promise.”

“and i’ll wait for you.” jeno walks up to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, giving you a comforting smile. you start to back away from jungwon, who gives you a sad smile. if you were able to hear the sound of his heart breaking, it would be very loud and clear. you had to fight the urge to just run back to him and stay with him, but you knew you had to leave. like jungwon said, you deserve a chance. you can’t give up now.

you give jungwon one last wave, “’til next time, partner.” you saluted and blew him a kiss.

there will be a next time. jungwon will make sure of it.

©berryyuni 2024. all work is written by me. do not copy, translate or repost

taglist (open): @suneng @j-jinxee @cherrikii @ashtxrie @miniature-tragedy @laylasbunbunny

[mariabtsos]

Nuts - ||k.nj||

Description: how had Namjoon ended up in this situation? What do you mean he had to actually make a connection instead of fucking your brains out?

Genre: Oneshot, Non-idol AU, Rapper!Namjoon x Makeup Artist f!reader, strangers-to-lovers, Too Hot To Handle inspired, SMUT SMUT SMUT!! Hopeful ending. 

Warnings: Namjoon is a bit of a player and full of himself, just smut overall with a hopefully balanced plot, eventually he’ll get back in touch with his feelings, this might be the longest oneshot I've written? Oral sex f receiving, fingering f receiving, grinding, slight exhibitionism.

Word Count: 8.5k+

Namjoon thought himself a reasonable person, horny, but reasonable. He never needed to go to extremes to get what he wanted, whether it be an artist he liked to feature on a song, or fuck the sexy girl that kept bringing champagne over to his table at club. She was leaning against the wall of some small maintenance closet, her back was arched as he pounded into her relentlessly.

Once they finished, he could tell she would want more, doing a not so subtle attempt at slipping her phone number into Namjoon’s back pocket. He smirked and walked out after fixing himself up, knowing full well this would be the last time he’d see her, Namjoon never came back for seconds once he had them. It was nothing against the women he slept with, he didn’t used to be this way, but a few instances of heartbreak and a toxic cycle of make up sex can lead one to denounce love all together and give into pure carnal desire.

Such was Namjoon’s case.

When he arrived at his table he noticed his manager, Jin, and his two best friends, Hoseok and Yoongi, did not receive him with the usual knowing smiles, granted, this time he hadn’t waited long to ditch them for some pussy. Namjoon usually gave it about an hour or two into an outing before temporarily or permanently leaving his friends, but he supposed tonight he really needed a quick fix.

“Why do y’all look like you’re mad at me?” he asked, taking a seat and picking at the chips and salsa that had been placed at the center of their table.

The VIP section of the club was nice, it had a great mix of different low and high-grade celebrities, Namjoon liked to think he was making his way up from the low end of the spectrum, now that he’d been picked up a small label and his mixtape would go from SoundCloud to mainstream platforms.

“We’ve barely been here for half an hour, Namjoon-ah,” Jin complained, holding the bridge of his nose between his index finger and his thumb, Namjoon just continued to stare at him confused. “Well, it’s not my fault, every time she was serving us drinks her tits were right there, and I don’t know if you noticed but they were beautifully proportioned,” he smiled cheekily.

His friends didn’t reciprocate it.

“The label signed you up for a reality show,” Jin stated bluntly, Namjoon almost thought he heard a record scratch, “why?”

“They think it’s good exposure for you,” the older shrugged, “plus it’s like a retreat, you get to stay in a villa with other people and you play games through the summer to win a cash prize.”

“Will I get to keep the cash prize when I win?” he asked, Yoongi and Hoseok sharing a look of annoyance at their friend’s cockiness.

Namjoon had never really been the cocky type, but once his mixtapes and albums started getting hundreds of thousands of streams, and girls seemed to follow him like bees in search of honey, he’d seemed to have his feet a little too far off the ground, and it got worse once he was signed to the label.

“The label is considering it if you create enough buzz around yourself.”

“Well then, I guess I have my work cut out for me,” he smiled, dimples on full display.

You kept refreshing your email every minute, you needed this opportunity, you needed this. It had been your dream since becoming a makeup artist to open your own salon. You were tired of taking clients in the small living room of your studio apartment.

You had been looking for an investor for months when you finally found one that had been interested in your business. He had arranged an interview with you and had asked for a portfolio of your work, just to see what you offered would be worth what you were asking, everything in the interview suggested it was. You were told to wait about a week for them to get back to you, and now that it had been a couple days after the week mark you were starting to get nervous.

The notification sound of a new email made your heart start to race.

From: Hwang Jongdae

Subject: Investment on 2!3! Beauty Salon

Good morning, miss Yn,

After careful consideration of your proposal, we have unfortunately decided that we will not move forward…

You didn’t need to read the rest of the lengthy email, you slammed your laptop shut, immediately reaching for your phone to call your sister, tears inevitably escaped your eyes as soon as she picked up your call.

“Ynie what’s wrong?” She asked, her face showing immediate concern. You explained the situation to her through sobs and snot.

“I don’t know what to do!”

“You could come out with me and Danbi, we are going to the club tonight, maybe you’ll find some rich drunk guy that will invest in your salon.”

You were apprehensive at first, but in the end here you were, in the middle of a night club making somewhat conversation with some guy who’d long taken off his suit jacket and tie, you weren’t planning on anything, you just wanted to someone to converse with since your sister and her girlfriend had ditched you to go dancing.

It wasn’t your fault you had ended up outside making out. You were just sad and needed some cheering up, making out with a stranger sounded like a quick fix, and maybe you’d get a room somewhere and you could enjoy the brief happiness that came with having a one night stand

“Well, I think, your story could make for great reality TV,” his speech was slightly slurred as he pulled away, a sign that the glass he was somehow still holding was definitely not one of the first ones he’d had tonight, “I’m casting this…um…competition show, you get to spend the summer in a pretty villa with pretty people and play games, you can win a SHIT load of money,” he kept leaning toward you, you had to hold back the urge to puke as his breath reeked of alcohol.

You were interested as soon as he mentioned money, you didn’t care what kind of competition it was, you would do anything to make your dream into reality, even if it meant participating in some stupid TV show and dealing with dumb people.

Namjoon was a bit upset about giving up his phone the night before their first day of shooting, but this retreat was meant to be a place where he could disconnect entirely. Which wasn’t an entirely bad idea, the past few weeks was mainly a lot of paperwork and filming his intro for the show, apparently, he’d be the “first to arrive.”

He was happy to see champagne set up on a hightop table, he served himself a glass and waited, other guys started showing up, and then the girls started showing up as well, and to say he was pleasantly surprised was an understatement, all the women were beautiful and when you walked in? 

Namjoon quickly knew that you'd be his target.

He was immediately attracted to you, for a moment he really thought that whoever was up there, if there was anyone, must've put you right there, you were exactly the type he went for when he looked for a quick lay. You were wearing a full body bathing suit, given that the villa was at a beachfront, like shows like these often were. Your hair was down in what he assumed was its natural form, and your make up accentuated your face's features beautifully.

The rest of the girls immediately went to greet you, while the men just stared and spoke amongst themselves about who they liked, it was mostly varied answers. The six girls were the stereotypical body type you’d see in shows like these, although some were definitely on the curvier side, all from different places, the guys were pretty much the same, all well built and mouth-watering.

“Okay so to catch you up to speed…um” one of the girls spoke.

“Yn”

“Right, we have all been scanning the boys and let me tell you, it’s going to be a bloodbath,” she chuckled, as did all the others. She introduced herself as Andrea, and the other girls introduced themselves shortly after.

They walked you over to where the high-tops were, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t notice the way the beautiful dragon-eyed man was devouring you with his gaze, and regardless of your small cover-up skirt and your full body bathing suit, you felt very much naked and aroused. If his gaze alone could do that, what could he do to you?. You had no time to calm your racing heart as he approached, his tall frame towered over you.

“Hey,” his voice sounded like honey, “my name is Namjoon, what’s yours?” he wasn’t subtle at all with the way his eyes trailed up and down your body.

“Yn,” you held your hand out to him “nice to meet you Namjoon,” he took it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips to kiss, you quickly took your hand away.

“What, you don’t like chivalry?”

“You don’t seem like the type to do it genuinely,” you admitted.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to prove you wrong.”

Your neck was hurting badly, you didn’t realize how close he’d gotten to you, making his stature much more than what you had initially suspected. Namjoon enjoyed the vertical advantage, as it gave him a perfect view to your tits, so beautiful and round, he could feel himself slowly harden, he was ready to tell you to come with him to one of the rooms so you could act upon it, when the host of the show finally showed up.

“Hello guys!” he was a beautiful man as well, did this show only look for good looking people? The producer you’d met said you’d be with pretty people, but this was another level, what a major boost to your ego. “I’m Taehyung, welcome Games in Paradise!” Everyone cheered and clapped as the host gave a pretty boxy smile, “you’ll spend the rest of your summer here, where if you succeed with our challenges, you will win a fantastic prize! Your first challenge will be announced later on by the beach, please explore your home for the next two months and enjoy!” Cheers erupted from the small group again, and everyone dispersed after Taehyung walked away.

And explore you did, the villa was huge, it came fully equipped with everything one could only dream of having. The kitchen was fully stocked with a bunch of fancy appliances for your convenience, the bathrooms were gorgeous and came with both a standing shower and a bathtub, the sleeping area had six queen sized beds and nightstands were full of things to make all the sex everyone was planning on having more enjoyable, from condoms to toys, to lube; a few rooms were locked and you weren’t sure why, but no one really cared, considering everyone starting breaking off into duos and small groups to start enjoying their time there.

(T-4 hours)

Andrea, and yourself were enjoying sun-tanning on the lounge chairs right in front of the pool, your cover-ups long gone as your asses in full display as you laid on your stomach. You were reading a book you had picked out of the villa’s small bookcase, while your newly found friend had her eyes closed.

“So, you and Namjoon huh?” she spoke, you looked up to see her sunglasses down to the tip of her nose as she stared at you suggestively. “He’s hot as fuck, anyone here would stupid not to be turned on by his mere sight,” you shrugged.

“The way he was looking at you I thought he was going to fuck you right then and there!” she giggled. You sighed in response and went back to reading your book, mainly to distract yourself from the godly man you’d met, and the many things you wished he’d do to you, so your wetness wouldn’t ruin your favorite swimsuit.

Namjoon was watching you from far away, two of the guys he’d met on either side of him also watching the girls they so badly wanted. Namjoon would enjoy his time here, whether it was with you, or someone who offered to help with his urges sooner. “Okay,” he stood up from his spot, “y’all can enjoy staring and not touching, I’m going in,” he started walking off when he felt a smack in his ass, surely from Jimin, one of the guys he’d been seating with, and his newest friend.

As he walked down to the lounge chairs he noticed someone else taking your friend away, leaving you alone.

Perfect, no interruptions, he thought.

“Hello again,” greeted you once he was close enough to you, he sat down at the spot your friend was previously laying on, his eyes shamelessly enjoying the view of your ass.

“If we still had our phones I’d tell you to take a picture,” you quipped, Namjoon looked back to your face and found you had been staring at him, he flushed slightly at being caught, but got himself together fairly quickly.

“Can you blame me when you have such a wonderful ass?” he chuckled, his dimples in full display which only made him more attractive in your eyes. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely filled with tension, you took off your sunglasses, a small smirk on your face “I bet you’d love to fuck it wouldn’t you?”

Namjoon wasn’t expecting such a bold response. He choked on his own saliva and got into a coughing fit as he heard you cackle loudly. When it finally subsided, he noticed you’d left, leaving a water bottle at his feet and a note on the lounge chair you had been seated on not so long ago.

Meet me in the sleeping area ;)

(T- 30 minutes)

There truly was no way of explaining your current predicament. How had you ended up like this so quickly? It was truly all a blur.

All you knew was that you were straddling Namjoon, dry-humping his erection over his swimming trunks, and making out ferociously.

Namjoon felt his dick getting impossibly stiff as you rubbed your pussy against it, your moans swallowed by his lips as he put his tongue down your throat. He played with your tits, massaging one of the mounds with one hand and holding your ass with another. “Can I pull down the straps?” he groaned as you moved to kiss him behind his ear and down his sharp jawline; you managed to muster a pathetic ‘mmhmm’ and you felt your nipples brushing against his chest and then being pinched and rolled between Namjoon’s thumb and index finger.

“Your body is so gorgeous,” he complimented before putting the breast he was playing with in his mouth, making you arch your back and moan as he sucked and licked it to his heart’s content. When he released your breast from his mouth he slowly dragged his hand down to your core, expertly moving your swimsuit aside and using his thumb to rub your already sensitive bundle of nerves, “fuck!” you moaned, he then moved his hand so that his thumb continued to rub your clit as he inserted his finger inside of you, “so wet for me,” he added another, “so tight,” and another “can’t wait to fuck this slick, tight pussy until you can’t walk” his fingers curved deliciously against your walls and you could feel the coil of pleasure tightening inside you.

“Take off your pants,” you managed to plead.

“Hmm?”

“Take off your pants, please, I want to rid-”

“Hello,” a robotic voice interrupted your pleas, scaring you so badly you almost ended up falling off of Namjoons lap. He gently took his fingers out of you and fixed up your swimsuit just in case someone was about to walk in. “Who the fuck is there?!” Namjoon asked sternly, carefully moving you off his lap.

“My name is Lana,” that’s when you finally noticed the small cone on top of a decorative table. “I hope you are enjoying the retreat, please head down to the palapa, it should be next to the place you arrived at today.”

You and Namjoon stared at each other, having a mental conversation on whether you actually wanted to or not, ultimately going back to making out. Namjoon wanted you so badly, and the stupid Lana robot had definitely not made him any harder, but he was sure he’d be back to it once you guys got back in the mood.

“Hurry up, lovebirds.” Lana’s robotic timbre interrupted them yet again, making you fall backwards on the bed “ugh!” You complained, “Let’s go before she becomes more of a buzz kill.”

You sat next to Namjoon, his arm was around your shoulders. You saw Andrea sitting among some of the girls, one of them in particular, Jihee you thought was her name, was throwing daggers at you with her eyes. All you could do was give her a tight-lipped smile, looking away from her as the small cone that had scared you earlier slowly rose up on a platform in the middle of the table.

“Hello, contestants,” her multicolored light blinked as she spoke, “I have gathered information during this first day of the retreat.” Everyone looked at each other, in a very ‘what the fuck’ kind of way because up until she spoke, you had thought her to be a very fancy diffuser, “it has been most insightful.”

“What the fuck does she mean?” Andrea spoke up.

“The purpose of the retreat is to have you create deep, meaningful, emotional connections, instead of the meaningless flings you’ve all been having.”

“So… have platonic relationships with women?” Jimin looked confused, he didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

“To incentivize you not to do this, I have set the prize money to one-hundred thousand dollars.”

‘Oh my god’s’ were spread out through the group, as they all talked about what that amount of money could do for them, you opened up to Namjoon and Andrea who were the people sitting closest to you, “that money could definitely get me my salon!”

“You’re a hairdresser?” Andrea asked.

“Makeup artist, but I’m planning on having a full service salon,” you smiled sweetly, Namjoon found the sparkle in your eye somewhat endearing when you talked about your dream, but, he couldn’t let himself dwell on it for long, he wanted a good lay, not a deep connection, deep connections had only caused him pain.

“However,” Lana interrupted the group’s chatter, “there are conditions to your stay in order to win the prize,” you hoped the collective complaint wasn’t missed on the small cone, although you were sure it was, it was a robot after all.

“There will be no kissing.”

Your eyes widened, as did most of the groups. “Well, she only said kissing right?” Jihee said.

“No heavy petting.” 

“This is fucking stupid,” Daniel, one of the guys Namjoon had been hanging out with spoke.

“No sex of any kind, this includes self-gratification,” the chorus of what’s and no’s that broke out from the group were immediate, and you felt regretful, if you had cut to the chase sooner you could’ve gotten a really good dicking from Namjoon, and now you were all going to be blue balled.

Or were you?

(Day 2)

You woke up the next morning comfy, you and Namjoon decided you would share a bed, and his muscular arms held you tightly, and you felt protected in a way. You hadn’t been one for cuddling in a long time, not since your last relationship almost 4 years ago. It had ended quite tumultuously, especially due to its toxic and suffocating nature. It was mainly why you had one night stands, you didn’t have to cuddle if you didn’t want to, you could just leave right after.

You also didn’t miss Namjoon’s morning wood against your ass, no one was awake yet aside from you, so you decided to be a little risky and pretend like you were adjusting yourself, only to rub up on Namjoon’s dick some more. His grip tightened at your hips, you felt his breath against your ear as he groaned.

“You better stop that, or I’ll fuck you just like this,” he whispered, you could feel yourself getting slick at his words, how badly you wanted him follow through. “Don’t you want the money?” you whispered back, doing your best to hold your moans as he grinded against your ass, “Lana is a dumb fucking robot, how will she know?”

Fuck it.

That’s how you ended up with your shorts and underwear halfway down your legs, and with Namjoon’s fingers deep in your pussy, just like last night. You were biting your pillow and doing your best to hold back your moans. “You ready for me baby?”

Best you could do was reach back and touch him, you wanted to keep quiet just in case someone heard you. He slowly teased your entrance with the tip of his cock, you had yet to see it but when it breached you, you could tell he was thick, and as he slowly fed himself into your pussy, it was ten times harder to stay quiet. Yup. He was definitely big. 

He fucked you slowly, and he had to hold himself back as well, your pussy felt so good and it almost felt like you sucked him in deeper with every thrust, he wanted to rail you, to make you scream and moan so that everyone knew just how good he fuck you. “You’re taking my cock so well,” he praised you, causing you to clench harder on him, “if you keep doing that I’m going to cum,” you answered, “why don’t you hmm? Maybe I’ll pump full of my cum too, and make you keep it in so no one knows what we did,” he bit your earlobe and you almost moaned out loud. The coil in your stomach snapped, and your back arched from the pleasure the beautiful man behind you was giving you, it wasn’t long before he came as well, and just like he said, you were filled to the brim.

After your morning shower and getting yourself ready, you were out and about with the girls hanging out in the pool, it was a hot, sunny day, and you were having fun hanging out with the gals.

“Were you okay this morning, Yn? I thought I kept hearing moan?” Jihee asked, making the rest of the girls turn to you. You and Namjoon had agreed to not tell anyone about your little escapade this morning. “I was having a really bad nightmare, I’m sorry,” you smiled apologetically.

Jihee didn’t seem to believe you, meanwhile the other girls rushed to ensure you were okay, they kept asking what your nightmare was about, thankfully, before the show you’d have a really bad one, so you used that one for your story, they didn’t know it wasn’t recent. However, you didn’t miss the angry looks from Jihee, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on it, as the guys came over to the pool to get you, stating that Lana had called for you all to go to the palapa.

You sat next to Namjoon again, who placed his arm on the armrest behind you. You were staring off, not really setting your eyes on one thing until they landed on his thighs. They were so thick and muscular, you wondered what riding them felt like, perhaps that could be the next thing you and Namjoon sneaked off to do.

“Hello, contestants,” the small cone in the middle of the table spoke, everyone greeted it back. “It has come to my attention someone may have broken the rules,” everyone stared around, except for Namjoon, who was playing with the leftover fabric of the headband you were wearing.

“No one’s done anything Lana,” Jimin stated.

“My cameras picked up movement and audio last night, are you sure?” The girls stared at you so quick you were worried they would break their necks, “Yn? You said you had a bad nightmare last night didn’t you?” Jihee’s voice was laced with cattiness, and you felt a slight tug to your headband.

“My cameras picked Namjoon, speaking also.”

“Her nightmare sounded pretty bad, I was whispering in her ear to calm her down, nothing happened,” the way he lied so effortlessly made you feel weird, and you remembered why you’d been single for so long, you didn’t want to be in another situation where you were gaslighted and lied to.

You were grateful that you had kept your movement so slow and subtle.

“Just a warning, if you are found breaking the rules, depending on what you do, you will lose money.”

All hell broke loose then.

(Day 14)

You had managed to go this far without you or Namjoon making a single sexual move, and it was killing him not being able to plow you like he wanted to. It was good because you weren’t the first to lose the group money, Daniel and Jihee were surprisingly the firsts to do so, Jihee had given head to Daniel twice in one day, losing twelve thousand dollars. Later on, Andrea and Jimin kissed a few times, losing six thousand dollars.

Namjoon thought that building an emotional connection was dumb, he’d done that before, and each time it ended in a heartbreak worse than the last, his most recent relationship being what made him swear off on relationships. The girl he had dated was someone he’d loved, he’d do everything for her, every song was for her, any money made from his music went to both his and her bills, he almost dropped his best friends for her. 

And then he found out she’d been cheating on him all along.

It absolutely broke him, he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t good enough, he’d always been a gentleman, he would spoil her, love her, why wasn’t that enough? 

He didn’t care anymore, when he had an urge he would go to the clubs, or even after a gig he would pull a fan he found hot and he would fuck them until he was satisfied, leaving shortly after, or if he was craving something more intimate he would cuddle them after for a little while, no deep conversation, no sob stories shared, no number exchange. No strings attached. It was the only way not to get hurt.

You were so nice, such a good fuck. He almost wished you had met a few years before, then again would he have looked your way? He always seemed to be dating women who only wanted him for his money, women who never appreciated the little things. You did. He’d made you coffee this morning, using the keurig in the kitchen because he knew he would burn the villa down if he did it like some of the others were making it. He did it because you had become somewhat friends, sexual tension aside, your conversations were great, even if they were forced at first to distract you both from how badly you wanted the other, maybe he’d leave this with you as a good friend. All the girls cooed at the nice gesture, and Namjoon visibly cringed “it’s just fucking coffee it doesn’t mean anything.”

Oh, how those words hurt you.

You had unfortunately developed a crush for the rapper. He was so incredibly smart, he had such wisdom and insight, and his face card was crazy. You had felt horny the first few days, after your small rendezvous, but that subsided once you had more and more conversations, you really like his brain. However, how you felt didn’t matter, he didn’t want you like that, you were someone he fucked once and that he wants to fuck again, nothing more, nothing less. So, maybe it was a good thing that new players came into the scene.

Lana announced them, and it wasn’t long before you spotted them walking down the beach, two men. Both men were absolutely ripped, one of them had a full sleeve and piercings, making you salivate at the sight, the other didn’t have any tattoos, but he had a somewhat big nose and a beautiful smile. When they arrived they quickly introduced themselves as Christopher and Jungkook. The latter seemed to have immediately set an eye on you as he immediately started conversing with you and tried to get to know you better. You and the others had to explain the rules to the newcomers, they weren’t exactly thrilled, but they got over somewhat quickly.

“Ynie, do you want to go talk somewhere else alone?” the doe-eyed man asked, and how could you say no to that pretty smirk. Namjoon didn’t really like it as he saw you walk away with the younger man.

“You can’t talk to her the way you did this morning and expect her not to move on,” Andrea spoke, Jimin giggled next to her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t care,” he clarified, making your friend roll her eyes.

“Attention, contestants,” Lana’s voice broke through the various conversations, “there will be a special event happening near the garden tomorrow, please go there in the morning.”

“What’s in it for us anyway?” Chris spoke up.

“The person who shows the most progress and success will win a date with a person of their choosing,” now that changes things.

(Day 15)

Without words. That’s what the workshop was called.

Lana had paired all of you up, and you had ended up being paired with Jungkook, whilst Namjoon was paired with Jihee. Namjoon wasn’t one to be possessive of the people he fucked, but it wasn’t that he fucked you before, you were his friend, and Jungkook seemed like he was up to no good, what with the big deceitful doe eyes.

You were excited though, it was a fresh start for you, maybe Jungkook will be able to give you that deep emotional connection you were supposed to look for. You hadn’t wanted it at first, but your growing feelings for Namjoon along with all the workshops you had done so far helped you realize that. This one in particular had two stages, the first one was picking up on your partner’s body language. You had to go for a hug with Jungkook showing a specific emotion, and he would have to guess it later, that emotion was excitement.

Once Lana gave you the go, you ran toward the pretty man and hopped on him, wrapping your legs around him. He quickly caught you, wrapping one arm around you and using his other hand to hold one of your legs up, you both were so giggly, and everyone in the group could tell you were enjoying each other’s company. Namjoon was hugging Jihee but he wasn’t putting that much effort in it, he was watching you and Jungkook, and the stupid shit eating grin he had whilst you hugged. How badly he wanted to be the one you had your legs wrapped around, he was getting a little upset at how long you were hugging this newcomer for, considering everyone had stopped except for you two.

“We don’t have all day!” Namjoon remarked, his tone was bitter. You didn’t realize you had embraced Jungkook for so long, you had connected a lot during his first day, you talked until the high hours of the night, so you felt good with him, it was easy. You let go and walked back, whispering I’m sorry’s to the group for the hold up. “The next stage is soul gazing, you will stare at your partner in silence, it encourages you to see and connect with your partner on a deeper emotional level,” Lana said.

The silence of everyone was quite comfortable, and watching Jungkook you felt such warmth and kindness emanating from him, and you also saw him tear up a bit. “You have a beautiful soul Ynie,” he admitted, and like the Grinch, you felt your heart grow three sizes from those words. Namjoon, however, was seething, who the hell is guy anyway, why is he making you swoon all the sudden? It was bullshit, absolute bullshit. After the workshop was finally over, Lana announced the winner, you.

“Yn, who do you choose to go on this date with,” the little cone asked, and everyone’s eyes were on you. The expectations were skewed, some were expecting you to pick Namjoon, and some were expecting you to pick Jungkook based on the past two days alone.

“Jungkook,” he had the prettiest smile, “wanna go on this date with me?”

“Yes!” He was very enthusiastic, giving you a quick side hug, the girls rushed to your side to help you get ready.

Namjoon was with the guys as they all watched Jungkook getting ready, he wasn’t very excited about the prospect of you going on a date with someone, he wanted you all for himself to enjoy and he couldn’t have that if you went with Jungkook. He heard Jimin giggling, noticing he’d been staring at him this whole time. “What?”

“Good thing you don’t have laser vision, poor Jungkookie would be dead if you did,” he continued to chuckle.

“I’m not even looking at him.”

“Give me a fucking break hyung, it’s obvious you are jealous of the guy, I mean just today’s workshop alone shows that,” Jimin explained, “if you like Yn you should shoot your shot.”

Did Namjoon like you? I mean he was definitely not repulsed by you, you were a smart, pretty girl. But how would he know you wouldn't use him? Sure you didn't seem like you would but what about when you were out in the real world?

“I'll be back,” Jungkook had a big grin on his face, “wish me luck!”

As Namjoon watched the youngest out of the men walk out, he decided he would get dressed himself, and get his frustration out with the punching bag at their designated workout area. Watching as he met you at the door to the villa. You were wearing a simple gray summer dress and it complimented your skin tone beautifully.

Jungkook was a little confused on why Namjoon was so adamantly upset at him, but he couldn’t worry about him right now, not when he was so excited to see you. You were incredibly nice to him when he arrived, and your conversation had been so wonderful when he’d pulled you aside. You talked about so many things, where you were from, what you did for work, what your goals were.

“I’m a tattoo artist! I’ve drawn most of the pieces I’ve gotten done,” he took off the shirt he was wearing, the white tank top underneath being the only thing keeping you from seeing his abs. His sleeve was beautiful, so incredibly colorful and full of life, he explained most of his tattoos, including the ones that were meant as cover-ups for others. Your eyes got lost in the way his muscles flexed as they trailed up his arm, eventually your gaze ended up meeting his.

He had stars in his eyes, and his smile seemed so incredibly genuine, he cocked his head to the side as he stared at you, “can I ask you something?” you nodded, “do you and Namjoon hyung have something going on? I don’t want to move forward with pursuing you if you are not available,” the question left you a bit stunned and you thought it through before deciding to trust Jungkook with the truth.

“We’ve had some serious sexual tension since we got here,” you admitted, “no one knows this but we actually fucked on our second night here,” the pretty man in front of you deflated a bit, and then it seemed to hit him, “so, not even the weird cone thing knows?”

“I mean she probably knows now,” you chuckled humorlessly. “Anyway, after that we agreed not to tell anyone, and we started building a friendship, I started sort of catching feelings, and I thought he was too, he would do little nice things for me, and then say something mean after,” you sighed, “so I’m not sure about him as person.”

Jungkook was a great listener, he stayed quiet and gave you his undivided attention the entire time you were talking, and now he sat pensive, looking up at the stars as he tried to come up with something to tell you, “I think you are really cool, Yn, and I think you deserve someone who will want you in every way, not just because you’re stunning” you blushed slightly at his words, “I would love to get to know you better and explore something with you, but if you want Namjoon that badly, then I don’t want to get hurt, going after girls who are emotionally unavailable or attached to someone else is exactly why I’ve become a man whore.”

You were shocked at his candor and honesty, but it endeared you to him and made you envy him. Why couldn’t you have your shit together? Why were your boundaries so unclear? Worst of all, a pretty guy who had treated you with nothing but respect wanted you… but your feelings for Namjoon were more, from the small coffee offering to conversations he would have with you about books you both had read, to deep conversations about each other’s life.

“You are a good person Jungkook.”

“But I’m not the kind of person you want.” You gave him a saddened smile, “I’m fine with being your friend Ynie, you are a good person too, and in time Namjoon will realize it too,” the night continued on with so much laughter, Jungkook felt like a long lost friend, and you were happy that life had brought him to you.

Namjoon was not happy. The people in the villa watched as he beat the absolute shit out of the punching bag in front of him, his jaw was clenched, and his mind was playing all the possibilities of what may happen on your date with Jungkook.

Did you do any of the things you'd done with him? Did you kiss him? Did you like him? Will you come back with a stronger connection and leave him to rot?

If you did he wouldn't blame you, he deserves every one of those things, especially after the way he'd treated you, all hot and cold. It truly isn't his fault, so many strings of wrong relationships, with the last one being a constant cycle of toxicity and gaslighting, which Namjoon can now admit he was a part of. Him and his last partner weren't good for each other, but they loved each other so intensely they didn't want to let go.

Love hard, hurt harder, you know?

He heard your unmistakable laughter along with his, and he started punching his bag harder. How long had he been standing here punching this poor bag? He didn't care, currently he was imagining Jungkook’s head on a stake.

“Namjoon?” Your voice pulled him out of his thoughts, he turned his gaze toward, whilst still in a punching stance, “can we talk?” Namjoon straightened up at that. He kinda liked the way you were checking how sweaty his body was, he didn't like your sudden frown however.

“Your knuckles are bleeding.” 

Were they? Surely he wasn't punching the bag that long that hard. But when he pulled up his hands to look at the damage he couldn't help but cackle.

“I guess they are.”

“Why don't you go take care of them and then we can talk, hmm?” You gave him a tight, close-lipped smile.

Fuck no.

There was no way he was letting you leave after you were the reason he'd been punching this bag, not when he'd spent the last however long wondering, overthinking, what you and Jungkook would possibly be doing. There was simply no way. It was almost a reflex the way his hand wrapped around your wrist, you barely had time to look at him before he pulled you away to a secluded corner of the villa, cornering you against the wall with both of his arms caging you in, droplets of sweat all over his body. 

It was crazy, the way your body seemed to respond so quickly to him, he heard the small whimper, and saw how you put your legs together, and fuck sake the way you were looking at him was like you were begging him to…

He wanted to do this right though. He moved away slightly, giving you some space to breathe, “what'd you wanna talk about Yn?”

“My date with Jungkook went well,” okay maybe not what he was expecting.

“Good for you?”

“I think we'll be great friends, him and I,” Namjoon suddenly felt himself taking a deep breath of relief. “Really?” The space he'd given you was gone again.

He hoped you could see just how affected he also was by you, how his own dick was stirring, having your body so close, having you so close. You must’ve sat there staring at each other for a few minutes, Namjoon’s gaze going back and forth between your lips and your eyes, there was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to do to you, with you. He leaned in slowly, your height difference making him bend down slightly, your eyes fluttered shut and he stopped just close enough that your noses were brushing together, you were so beautiful. Before you could ask him what was taking him so long he connected your lips in a delicious, passionate kiss, your tongues explored each other’s mouths and your hands held onto his shoulders.

Namjoon was the first to pull away, only to move his kisses down to your jaw and eventually your neck, causing you to let out little moans, they were the prettiest sound to Namjoon. He found himself reaching for the shorts you had worn under your gray dress, “may I take these off?” he asked, his eyes hooded and filled with want, all you could do was let out a pathetically high-pitched ‘yes’. He hooked his thumbs at the waistband, dragging your underwear down with it, he watched them pool at your feet and then knelt down, “is this okay?” you felt his breath against your center, making you squirm slightly.

“Yes.”

He dove right in, licking the length of your slit, groaning at how aroused you were and he had barely done anything to you. He moved on to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and sucking gently, causing your moans to become slightly louder, “you gotta keep quiet for me baby,” he instructed you when he briefly pulled away to catch his breath, the sight of the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness making you almost want to orgasm right then. He started eating you out again, this time adding his fingers to the mix, and you had to cover your mouth to make sure your moans wouldn’t be heard all over the villa. You felt yourself closer and closer to your climax and Namjoon could too, your walls squeezed his fingers tightly almost as if wanting to keep them prisoner, and he wanted nothing more than to replace them with his cock, especially because it was so painfully hard. You wanted that too, you wanted nothing more than for this to go all the way, but you felt that in order for what you wanted to work, things had to be different.

“Namjoon, stop” he immediately moved away from you, gently removing his fingers. You took a moment to catch your breath, as he slowly pulled up your shorts and underwear and fixed your dress for you, “did I hurt you?” he asked, holding your hips, looking genuinely concerned at your sudden request. He had an almost boyish charm when this side of him was shown to you, so sweet, so gentleman-like, why would he not be like this always?

“No, I just,” you sighed, putting your hands on his chest, “I like you Namjoon, I would like for us to try and get to know each other, for us to get the chance to see if this could go anywhere, but I’m not sure if that’s what you want, and I need to know, because I don’t want to be pining for someone that just wants me for sex.”

Your confession surprised him, he hadn’t thought that all your conversations and your sexual tension would lead to anything more than maybe a friends with benefits kind of situation. However, considering how he's been reacting to the possibility of you and Jungkook together, maybe he did want to explore more.

“I'd love to get to know you more Ynie,” he flashed his dimpled smile at you, and you felt your heart fluttering. Jumping into his arms for a hug in which Namjoon made sure to hold you extra tight. Maybe this was the beginning of his healing.

(Day 27)

The rest of the stay at the villa was great for you two, Namjoon was so very thoughtful, he made you fresh coffee every morning, and you guys had a reading date every afternoon, where you shared the big love seat by the pool, laying back on his chest as he held whatever book you were reading in front of both of you.

People weren't too happy once Lana deducted the money for your offense after your date with Jungkook, and they were even more distraught when they found out what shenanigans you'd been up to on your second night there, you had lost them so much money the price money was down to forty-five thousand dollars. Jihee almost jumped you, thankfully Jungkook was there to hold her back. Speaking of, you ended up having another girl show up, a sweet blonde named Maddie who immediately caught Jungkook’s attention. It was great seeing your friend happy. You guys would have chats by the pool when you got a chance and update each other on the happenings of your relationships. 

Lana had also been a bit more liberal by giving you all bracelets, when they lit up you’d be allowed to kiss the other person, this would only happen if your emotional connection had been proven to strong and genuine.

Although you and Namjoon were still very much in the eyes of everyone, “getting to know each other,” that would all change three days before you left the villa. You honestly had no clue when he had the time, but when Lana announced you were going on a date with Namjoon, everyone seemed to be beaming at the idea. He told you to dress nice. So you opted for a two-piece white set, with a loose halter top, white loose shorts, and wedges. Turns out you were going on a boat ride.

“Oh my god Joon,” you beamed as he helped you sit down at the front of the boat, where an assortment of sushi was waiting for you. You sailed along, enjoying the sun on your skin, and the beautiful man that kept feeding you sushi, especially since even if he tried to show you how to use chopsticks you still couldn’t keep the sushi in your grasp for long. You talked some more about life, and you ended up opening up to one another.

“My last relationship was like, three years ago,” he started, “she basically only wanted me for my money, but I didn’t really notice, I just wanted to love and be loved, and I thought that I was being good, I spoiled her, gave her everything and she still cheated on me, so I swore off relationships and became a man-whore,” he chuckled bitterly. “My last relationship was four years ago, it was very toxic, he basically made me feel bad for not always wanting to be on his dick, or because I spent time with my friends and not him, he went around telling everyone our business but always left out how awful he was to me.” You had been staring at the horizon, the sun slowly setting bringing golden hour to you.

“Eventually when we broke up, he tried getting back together with me, and when I said no, he started shit-talking my friends and myself, and all I could do was watch as they got tired of dealing with me and my drama, so now I only had my sister to rely on,” you felt Namjoon’s hand on your cheek, he watched with sorrowful expression, “you were crying.”

“I swore off relationships after that too, I have never felt more alone than during that time, and I didn’t want to feel like that again.”

“I know at first I didn’t do the best job at not making you feel that way, but I hope I can help you feel less lonely,” Namjoon said, still caressing your cheeks, you felt your wrist vibrate, seeing the big green checkmark on your watch, Namjoon had the same. You were ready to lean in to kiss him, but he stopped you.

“Before we kiss,” he started, “getting to know you has been amazing, I find myself learning some much about myself and slowly coming back to who I was before all the bullshit. I want us to be real, I want to go back to the real world and make it work with you, would you be my girlfriend Ynie?” Your cheeks hurt from how wide you were smiling, you never really thought of yourself getting back into a relationship, you had sworn you were too damaged for something like that, but maybe this was the start to your healing. “I want to make it work in the real world too, I’d love to be your girlfriend,” his dimpled smile gave you butterflies, and as his other hand reached your cheek to fully cup your face, he closed the space between you with a kiss that had been different from the ones before, the others were hungry, desperate, and horny, this one was slow, passionate, and breath-taking. You felt your wrist vibrate again, making you pull away much to your dismay.

“I’m excited for the outside world together,” his gaze was sweet and soft, something you had never seen. He laid back, opening his arms up so you could cuddle.

“Me too,” you smiled, quickly moving your picnic stuff out of the way and scooting over, you laid your head on his chest, you heard his heart beating so fast and so loud, “your heart is about to beat out of your chest,” you giggled.

“I was so fucking nervous,” you looked up at him, “but I am happy I think, hopefully we’ll make it through.”

Fingers crossed.

[plussizefantasia]

More Body, More Money

Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

warnings: Allusion to smut towards the end, references to a female body and that body being bigger

an: holy shit sorry for disappearing for so long. I make no promises as to when I'll come back as I seem to have a habit of breaking those. I've been in a Bridgerton mood recently though and typed this on my phone in like an hour so no promises that it's all that good. I will say though that I've been working on a request recently and it's currently at 4k and counting which is by far the longest fic I've ever written and I'm not even to the good part yet. I've also finished outlining the rest of the parts for my Kili x reader fic. I think that's it though, thanks for reading this far if you did and for putting up with my bs.

“Darling, could you come here a moment?” Your husband called from his desk. Recently you had taken to reading while lounging on the couch in his study. It was a great way to spend time with your busy husband while also letting him get his work done. 

You didn’t exactly know what he was working on at the moment but apparently, your presence was needed to solve whatever issue he had stumbled upon. It wasn’t until you got closer to his desk that you noticed the receipts and ledgers sprawled across his desk. He was updating the families' books and tracking the spending that you and the rest of his family had done that month. 

“Yes, my love?” You moved to rest your hand on his back and traced it across his shoulders and on his neck. It was as if you two were magnets, unable to keep apart for very long. If you were close enough then you would feel your hands gravitating towards him. And if the way his arm moved to rest on your back as well, he had the same urges when in proximity to you. 

“I’ve noticed something odd in the charges from the modiste.” Anthony handed you the papers. Both you and Eloise had gone to the modiste at the beginning of the month to be fitted for some new gowns to prepare for her second season in the marriage mart and your first season as the Viscountess. 

“I’ll admit to not being the most knowledgeable about gowns and other frivolities my love, but is it normal for the cost difference to be this large? I mean when Ben and I get new suits the price is almost always similar.” He pointed to the two prices listed on the bill from Madame Delacroix. 

You didn’t know how to respond to this, you knew the reason behind the price difference between yours and Elioises dresses, of course, it was something that you had thought of already. After all, it was the same reason that your younger sister always got more gowns than you every season that the two of you attended growing up. You were larger, and as the modiste you had gone to grow up with had said “More body means more fabric means more money.” more money that your father had deemed unnecessary so you had only ever gotten one or two new dresses while your sister would be fitted for five or six of the newest and most flattering styles.

But how could you explain this to Anthony? That your dresses cost more than his sisters because you were bigger, and that meant more money.

You knew Anthony loved your body, he worshiped it often in fact but there was a difference between getting lost in the softness of your embrace and seeing the real-life sometimes the financial consequences of living in a bigger body.

“Oh, Anthony, it is uh- just a matter of resources I suppose.” 

He raised a brow at you. “I’m not sure I understand. What do you mean by resources?”

“Well dear husband, you and your brother are very similar in height and build which means the two of you have very similar resource usage, whereas myself and your sister are quite different in the… resource usage department.”

“My love, I need you to speak to me as if I am an idiot.” 

You deeply sighed and prepared yourself to have the conversation that you had been trying and failing to get out of. “Eloise is small, therefore it does not take as much fabric to make her dresses, whereas I am quite well endowed and my dresses require more material. More body means more fabric means more money it is as simple as that.” 

“That is preposterous, are you both not getting dresses?” His tone was getting more defensive, and it warmed your heart to know that he was willing to get upset at the simple fact that Madame Delacroix had charged you more because your dress was bigger. You had expected him to be embarrassed, and deep down somewhat afraid that he would realize that he had signed himself up for these extra expenses for the rest of his life by marrying you. 

“Well darling, think about it, would you expect to pay the same amount for a child as you would for yourself? Do you not pay more for your suits than you do Greg’s?”

“No, I see your point darling.”

“That is all this is my love, different sizes of clothing cost different amounts. If it is a problem I can just see about getting some of my old gowns altered to make them somewhat nicer for the new season, that way you would not have to spend as much.”

“What? No. Darling, this is not about the money, I was merely worried that that woman had tried to take advantage of you, charging you far more than Eloise for the same thing. I couldn’t care less about the money. In fact, I think you should get ten more gowns made, show everyone in the Ton that I am married to the most voluptuous, sensual, and desirable woman in the world.” He pulled you closer to him so that you were standing in between his spread knees, you still standing over him as he leaned back in his chair.

Anthony began training kisses up and down the arm that he had grasped within his hand. Turning your wrist over so that he could place one at the center of your palm. 

“I do not need ten new gowns, Anthony, that is far too much.” You giggled and protested, feeling more enamored with the man you married with every word out of his mouth.

“Perhaps I shall buy you ten diamond necklaces then so that I can have an excuse to stare at your chest as often as I’d like.” You snorted and gently smacked the back of his head. “Anthony Bridgerton, that is scandalous talk and you know it.”

“Nothing is scandalous between husband and wife, especially when the two are alone.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you and lifted the corners of his lips into a sultry grin, one that had your knees feeling weaker by the second. 

“All I really need, dear husband, is you.”

A smile that you could only consider adoring spread across your husband's face.

“And I you, my love.”

“No Anthony, I need you.”

His grin turned to a full-blown smirk spreading across his face, “Well, what the Viscountess needs she gets…” 

;)

[evertidings]

— JUNE 2024.

accomplishments.

hi!! how's everyone been lately? june was a really good month for me in terms of writing and i'm really really happy about it. turns out, forcing yourself to write actually does something. who would've thought?

for the longest time, i had no motivation to work on this chapter because it wasn't going anywhere. i had the issue with the plothole and it honestly killed so much of my joy. since reworking the chapter, however, i've gotten back some of my spark. i basically told myself that 'hey, you still really like what you've created so far, right? so suck it up and push past your mental block.' and here we are.

i'm still getting back into the groove of things, but i've done a lot more writing for this than i have for a while. that said, i apologize for the long wait. i feel immensely guilty about the lack of update but i swear to you, it will come. my plan is some time in the summer. if not, then early fall (though this is obviously not preferred).

to speak on the chapter itself, chapter eleven has three major branches in total, and, as i said in last month's update, each of them feature different ros. i'm currently wrapping up branch #2 and plan on working on #3 later this week. technically, branch #1 isn't done yet, but it was also the branch that gave me immense writer's block so forgive me if i ignore it a little longer. branch #1 and #2 are also a lot heavier compared to #3, so having written those for months on end, i'm feeling a little weighed down. by switching over to #3, the goal is to have enough energy to get back to #1. once that's done, all i gotta do is edit and publish it!

so yeah, maybe we're not at the end yet, but we're getting there. this is the best i've felt about this chapter for a very long time now and i'm really hoping this energy continues. thank you for your continued patience. i will try my hardest to make this worth it for you.

take care of yourselves! <3

stats.

chapter total: ~21,170 words

game total: ~493,170 words

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Voicemail

A Seams oneshot, but can be read independently of the series

{ Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: T

Summary: You find Joel's old Nokia at the back of a drawer.

Warnings: Angst, description of a panic attack, grief, comfort, no use of Y/N, reader has a nickname related to her job, reader has no physical description, definitely incorrect description of how mobile phones work, very lightly edited.

As always, Seams oneshots are set on a relaxed timeline. Voicemail can be considered to take place at an unspecified time after Part IV.

Word count: 1.8k

Notes: I don't know if anyone has written anything similar, but I've always wanted to write something about Joel's Nokia (the idea for Butter actually came from the phone scene in episode 1 - can't you tell? lol). This idea took me by surprise one night and didn't let me go.

Important note: I know voicemails don't work this way, but let's pretend that they are saved onto the mobile phone itself and can be accessed decades later, and that a Nokia can indeed survive the apocalypse.

After the outbreak, after Sarah, after missing his shot - he doesn’t remember much of those early, blurry days. Tommy barely managed to drag his catatonic ass to an abandoned house somewhere on the outskirts of town, where he had to punch him in the face to snap him out of it. 

It being a cocktail of shock, grief, pain and numbness that should’ve killed him, could’ve killed any man. And for the longest time he wished that it did.

It was in the aftershock of that punch, left cheek snapped to his shoulder and his eyes downcast, that Joel saw his Nokia was still clipped to his belt, by some miracle unscathed when everything else had fallen apart.

And he keeps it all these years.

He hadn’t meant to take it with him when he packed up his meagre life to leave Boston behind. But the grubby afternoon light glanced off the screen when he was grabbing maps and hammers from under the dusty floorboards, and with a fuck it, he shrugged and shoved it into the bottom of his backpack. 

If he was being honest with himself, it didn’t feel right leaving it behind.

And so the phone made it to Jackson, and survived the detour to Salt Lake City, largely forgotten. Joel was almost surprised by the sight of it when he finally unpacked his bag in the house that was now his and Ellie’s. 

With a wry smile, he tossed it into a nondescript drawer in the garage, never to see the light of day again.

Until one weekend, Joel asks you to help him find some obscure screwdriver in his garage, not able to get up from where he’s on his back, stemming the flow of the perpetually leaky sink in Ellie’s bathroom.

The space is cool, the shutters down and the air dank from the lack of sun. Under the flickering fluorescent light, you go through a frankly ridiculous number of toolboxes without sighting the elusive screwdriver. With a sigh, you try the middle drawer in the workbench, which is clogged with what looks like everything under the sun. 

Your lips twitch - Joel Miller is a messy man.

Digging around the random clutter, you startle when your fingers brush the long-forgotten, yet instantly familiar plastic case of the Nokia.

Wrapping your hand around the rectangular frame, you smile, in disbelief that you’re holding a mobile phone. You had a similar one that got lost in the confusion of the first days of the outbreak, and you haven’t seen one in the years since. At least not one in such good condition.

Joel’s faraway voice jolts you out of your thoughts. ‘Found it, sweetheart?’

‘Just a second!’ you call back.

Tucking the phone back where it came from, you grab the nearest screwdriver and hope for the best. 

It takes you a few days of asking around town, poking around dusty storerooms and untangling twenty year-old electric cords, but you eventually find what you’re looking for, and there’s a spring in your step as you cook dinner that evening. 

Joel seems to pick up on your energy, and he grins, amused, when he brings in the empty dishes after you eat.

‘You’re buzzin’ out of your skin, sweetheart,’ he teases, grabbing you by the waist. ‘What’s up with you?’

You cock your head to the side. ‘Well, I have a surprise for you.’

‘Is that so?’ he hums, then lets his voice drop an octave in playful insinuation. ‘What kind of surprise, hmm?’

‘Not that kind of surprise,’ you huff with a smile. ‘It’s - it’s hard to explain.’

‘Try me.’

Twisting out of his grip, you open a cabinet and pull out something that fits neatly in your palm. Joel frowns, confused by what looks like - a charger.

When you speak, it’s slow, as if you don’t want to startle him. ‘There’s a whole warehouse of wires and things down by the canteen. A patrol stumbled across an electronics shop in a nearby town a few years ago.’

He gives you a crooked smile. ‘And what am I s’pposed to do with it, sweetheart?’

You take a moment, making sure that his eyes are on you before the words come out. ‘I found the Nokia in your garage the other day, when I was looking for the screwdriver.’

You watch as Joel processes your words, and he goes still, stiller than you’ve ever seen him. 

Then he blinks and shuffles his feet, glancing down at the charger. ‘I - I didn’t expect this.’

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. ‘I know. And you don’t have to do anything with it, really, but I just wanted you to have it.’

He nods, slowly. ‘Ok.’

Hesitating, you stutter, ‘So, um, do you - want to take it -?’

Joel holds his hand out, calloused palm quietly upturned. You half expect him to jump at the contact, but he doesn’t move a muscle when the black wire lands in his grasp, and his thick fingers curl around them.

‘I got the dishes, if you want to go first,’ you prompt softly.

Joel swallows, then nods. ‘Yeah, I think I’ll do that. If y’ don’t mind, sweetheart.’

‘Of course,’ you smile, pressing a kiss to his lips.

It’s cold outside, but he doesn’t feel it, not when the charger seems to be burning a hole in his hand. When he gets back to his house - empty, Ellie is at Lucy’s for dinner - he heads straight to the garage, and tugs open the drawer.

The Nokia stares back at him, screen blank.

Flinging the charger into the drawer without seeing where it lands, he shoves the drawer close with a snap.

Weeks pass. It hangs in the back of his mind like a spector, even though you don’t bring it up again, and he doesn’t either. 

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all - hopeful of what he would find on it.

It’s been twenty years. Electronics don’t last that long. It’s gotta be wiped clean.

One Wednesday night, Ellie is upstairs, music blaring, doing ‘homework’ or whatever she does on a weeknight (he doesn’t believe in helicopter parenting), and Joel finds his thoughts drifting to that damn drawer.

Feeling reckless, he reaches for the top shelf in the kitchen, pours himself two fingers of whiskey, and charges into the garage.

Hopping onto a workstool, he takes a big gulp of liquid courage and sets the tumbler on the work surface. Before his resolve slips completely out of touch, he yanks on the handle, and he winces when the drawer yawns open with a screech.

The Nokia feels foreign to the touch, like he’s forgotten how to hold a phone. It was, of course, glued to his ear almost all hours of the day and night once upon a time. He turns the plastic case over and the other way around again, smoothing the pad of his thumb over the buttons.

There’s no putting it off forever.

In goes the plug into the electric socket, and he looks down, phone in the left hand, the end of the charger in the other.

He thinks he’s seeing double until he realises that his hands are fucking shaking.

In one determined motion, he slots the charger into the bottom of the phone and drops it like it’s acid.

Then he downs the rest of his whiskey.

He’s not sure how long he stares, the very air around him as unmoving as himself, and he feels the alcohol spread its warm fingers through his veins. 

Just when he’s about to look away, it happens.

The battery sign appears on the screen.

Joel almost chokes on a chuckle. He can’t fucking believe it. You really can’t kill a Nokia if you tried.

It doesn’t take long for the familiar home screen to pop up, the time on the top right corner, the battery in the bottom right. The bright green glare casts a cool glow in the dim. Joel picks up the phone, only to be nearly knocked backwards off the chair when the words flash across the screen.

1 NEW VOICEMAIL.

He’s sure his heart has stopped, it definitely feels like it, a deadweight in his chest sinking into his stomach. But he hears it, the relentless beat of it, pounding violently in his ears. Too fast. Gripping the edge of the work surface, he tries to breathe, mouth open, but air isn’t getting in.

It could be nothing. Could be a voicemail he missed from a client that night, or a junk call.

He’s not sure if he’s afraid of it, or dreading it, or worst of all -

He’s trembling so badly that he needs both hands to hold the phone steady, just so that his thumb presses the selection key.

He doesn’t hear the pre-recorded message, his brain skips it entirely. Then there’s five seconds of silence, and his life flashes before his eyes at the familiar beep -

Dad, are you on your way home? Please tell me you remembered the cake. Uncle Tommy bet me ten dollars that you won’t and I kinda need that lunch money tomorrow. See you soon, love you dad -

And everything goes white.

When Joel comes around, he’s on his knees, the empty tumbler in crystalline pieces around him. The phone is no longer attached to the charger, clutched so tightly in his hands that he feels the imprint of every button in his palm.

He won’t know that his face is wet with tears until you thumb the streaks off his cheeks on your doorstep minutes later, no memory of how he got there. You draw him into you, but your embrace barely contains his broad frame.

You can’t get him far in his state, whiskey on his breath and shivering all over. You drag him across the living room and onto the couch, where you curl up against him, warming him up with your body heat, cradling his head on your chest. The candlelight bounces off the phone screen, which glows green in his grasp.

It will take him weeks to get his head around what you have given him. And when he does, he will ask if you want to hear Sarah’s voice - shyly - as if you would ever say no. 

Watching him watch you, Sarah’s warm, fun-loving voice in your ear, the seams of your lashes sting with tears as your heart clenches, swells, breaks for him - and then put together again by his hand finding you, fingers filling the gaps between yours.

But for now, he lies prostrate, his weight pinning you to the couch, as you comb soothing fingers through his hair, anchoring him to you.

‘I got you, Joel,’ you whisper in his ear, and his eyelids droop and his breathing evens out, as if he’s run a thousand miles. ‘I got you.’

As he drifts off to sleep - his baby girl's love you dad echoing between his ears - he knows that you do.

More notes: I don't lean too hard into angst in my fics as a rule, so this took me places I haven't been for a while, but it's ok cos Pin's got our man 🥺 Thank you for reading, as always! ❤️