#will u ever have me shutting up about red hands the answer is no

[emberuby]

just like you | y.jw

sometimes, i love myself, touch myself, thinking of you. sometimes, when you're gone, far from home, thinking 'bout you, baby — just like you by emotional oranges

pairing: yang jungwon x fem! reader

synopsis: jungwon asks you if you ever touched yourself to the thought of him.

warnings: established relationship, jungwon is a bit mean, mentions of (almost) drowning, sub! reader (cannot write dom reader for the life of me, sorry), dom! jungwon, mentions of masturbation, possessiveness, oral sex (fem receiving), jungwon is a munch sue him, some fluffy moments.

note: my first ever jungwon fic 🖤 i went a bit crazy after seeing the pics of his blonde hair, so i decided to take this wip i abandoned months ago and finally complete it. hope u guys enjoy! and as always feedback is really appreciated 😚

wc: 3.7k

“How did you feel about me before we got together?”

You turned to face your boyfriend, who was lying calmly on the couch with one arm wrapped around your frame. His sudden question took you aback, but you didn’t want to answer it quite honestly, “Isn’t it obvious? I thought you were a massive pain in the ass.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes and pinched your cheek lightly. "I’m being serious, Y/N. What did you think of me?”

It was humiliating to admit, but you went completely breathless when you first met him. You remember it vividly: you were at a first-year party, and one of your friends brought him to meet you because you were both going into the same faculty and thought you could become good friends.

Well, that didn’t work out at all, as your friendship was short-lived and was plagued with sexual tension that was thick enough to cut through. 

The image in your head was all too clear, of his skin tinted red from the LED lights and his hazy eyes from the drink he took. That night, he looked fucking gorgeous. His hair was bleached blonde, he had a fake lip piercing, and he wore a leather racer jacket. First-year Jungwon thought he was very edgy and unique. 

Even on the first day you met, all you wanted to do was take Jungwon somewhere private and have him shove his tongue down your throat (and maybe somewhere lower, too).

“In all honesty?” You asked, your eyes shining with sincerity.

“Please,” he responded. He placed his palms on your waist and swiftly pulled you on top of him as though you were a feather. He always acted so casually about things like that and did not even care about how it made your heart race.

He would do small acts like wrapping his arms around the back of your seat when he would parallel park and hold your thighs while he was driving as though they were just casual things to him. Did he not realise how much it affected you?

“In all honesty...,” you began dramatically, clearly playing with his impatience. You grinned at yourself as you saw the anxious and eager look on his face. "I thought you were really fucking sexy.” 

That made him smirk, and he lowered his hands from your waist down to your hips. Your breathing quickened at the feeling of his fingers tightening around you. You didn’t finish, however, "And I wanted to kill every girl that you were dancing with. Since we’re in the spirit of complete honesty.”

Jungwon’s eyes lit up. He was all too used to being the possessive one, so it always made him excited when you would get jealous. He didn’t even remember that he was dancing with other girls that night because all he remembered was you.

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I wanted to kill all your guy friends that you were standing around with.” 

"I’m pretty sure you still do,” you said.

The smirk fell from his face as he looked off to the side in annoyance. “Maybe I wouldn’t if Jake wasn’t so touchy with you. And I know, I know, he’s just a friend, but I swear that fucker always smirks at me whenever he hugs you. He’s such a piece—” 

You placed your pointer finger against his lips, shutting him up, as you really were not interested in hearing his tenth jealous rambling of the week. “Baby, you’re adorable when you’re jealous, but please, let’s not get into that right now.”

He sighed in frustration but nodded noteless. One of these days, he ought to just fuck you in front of all your guy friends to show them who you truly belonged to, but that would be a conversation for another day.

He extended his tongue out to lick the skin of your fingers, making you flinch your arms back towards you. Jungwon’s eyes turned into crescents as he laughed at your disgusted face. “You’re such a freak,” you exclaimed. 

He ignored your comment, as his mind was still fixated on what he came into this conversation for. He began, “What I really wanted to know was... if you ever touched yourself. You know, to the thought of me.”

You smiled to yourself and hummed, "I see what this is about.”

He tugged you closer to him, pressing your pelvis tighter against him. He hated the snarky tone of your voice. “Well, sue me for being curious.”

Clicking your tongue and looking down at him with pure confidence (and trying your absolute best to hold back the embarrassment), you admitted it. “If you must know. I did touch myself...to the thought of you.”

If Jungwon could, he would have jumped around the room in glee and screamed to his heart’s content, but he chose to keep a still face and just licked his lips. God, that was an ego boost, if anything. “How often?” he continued asking.

Your face flushed. He was not going to let this go any time soon. “Not too often,” you said, but your voice was ever so slightly shaky. Nobody outside of Jungwon would have noticed the slight crack in your demeanour.

He chuckled at your very obvious bullshit. “You’re lying straight through your teeth.”

You flicked his forehead in retaliation, but it was especially frustrating when you knew he was right. “Don’t be so full of yourself.”

He raised his eyebrow, telling you without words that he knew he was right and he wasn’t giving up on this topic. He was such a shithead. 

“Fine! It was… It was pretty frequent. It was really bad when you took me swimming that one time. You were touching me everywhere, and we had so little clothes on. I couldn't even wait until we got home. I just...fingered myself in the changing room to relieve it.”

You wish he could have seen the look in his eyes at that moment. He looked like he was falling down a never-ending rabbit hole of bliss and ecstasy. You couldn’t help but notice the feeling of his cock pressed up against your clothed pelvis, and you knew he was getting harder by the moment.

He remembered that day clearly, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t know the effect he had on you. You two were at the beach, and after he gave you a few tips on how to swim better, you began to feel overconfident and started rushing towards the deep end of the water. 

“How could you be so fucking stupid?!” You remembered him scolding you, holding onto you as tightly as possible, and rubbing your back to help calm your shaking body. Your eyes were glistening with tears, and you were shaking your head in fear. Given how large the waves were that day, you were sure that you would have ended up drowning if Jungwon didn’t get to you quickly enough.

You didn’t respond to him, instead wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders and holding on for dear life. Although the near-death experience was still fresh in your mind, half of you were fixated on the feeling of Jungwon being so close to you. 

While one hand was resting on your back, the other was gripping your thigh, urging you to wrap your legs around his hips to stay closer to him so he could help swim you out of the water. You could feel his crotch pressed up against yours, and you weren’t sure if it was the ocean water or if it was just your arousal that was making your pussy feel so drenched. 

It was the weirdest feeling you had ever experienced—the mixture of fear and lust. You almost wanted to slap yourself across the face for being so affected by Jungwon’s touch. 

You remembered thinking, ‘For fuck’s sake, you almost died, and this is how you act right after? Like a dog in heat?’

While your mind was still reeling, Jungwon kept trying to calm down your nerves. “Hey, it’s okay. I'm here now. You’re not going anywhere, okay?” 

He wasn’t oblivious to it, however. The tension between you was high after that moment, and he remembered being affected by it, too.

“When I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” you continued speaking. “The first time I ever rode my pillow, it was to the thought of you. I felt pathetic, how I was jerking off to a picture of your face, but I wanted you underneath me...really badly.” 

Your face was burning, and your palms were pressed against his abdomen to help balance yourself. You regretted your shameless rambling as soon as it all left your mouth, especially now that Jungwon had all this ammunition on you. 

Jungwon would definitely use it against you in the future to make you flustered, but as of now, all he could think about was the image of you lying down with your back arched on your bed in the dorm you used to live in before moving in with him. 

He imagined your loose pyjama shirt covering your chest but nothing to cover your glistening pussy as you fingered yourself slowly. Your other hand was holding your cell phone, and on it was a selfie of Jungwon. The selfie would be rather innocent, but it didn’t matter; just a glimpse of him would have gotten you that riled up.

“Yeah? Well, you can get on top of me any time you’d like.”

“You know fully well that’s not true.”

Jungwon preferred being on top of you. Whenever you did ride him, it didn’t last particularly long because you never moved your hips fast enough to meet his insatiable hunger. It would only take a few minutes for Jungwon to become impatient and flip you over to continue fucking you on your back. He preferred to have full control over you, although most people who meet the two of you often assume that you both switch roles often. In reality, you were far too much of a sub for that to happen. 

He almost always had your legs spread and your back on the floor or mattress as he mercilessly took you. The other half of the time, he had you bent over on any surface he could find, taking you as your legs quivered from the pleasure and exhaustion. 

“I let you ride me every now and again, you’re just not very good at it,” Jungwon tried to defend himself. You noticed his voice was getting quieter and deeper, the way it always did when you had intimate conversations at night. His sleepy voice was enough of an aphrodisiac, with its raspiness and its hypnotising nature.

You gasped and placed your palm on your chest, pretending to act offended at his words when, in actuality, you didn’t particularly care about them. 

It wasn’t your fault that Jungwon had insane stamina, and you always get too exhausted when you ride on top of him. It doesn’t help that his size is too much for you to take some days and forces you to slow down while you thrust up and down on his cock. It never seemed to matter how well he prepped you because you would always find yourself struggling.

Jungwon quickly flipped you back into your original position, where you were lying back on the couch, and he sat down on the foot of it and began spreading your legs. His arms were gripping the fat of your thighs, pushing up the fabric of your already tiny pyjama shorts, and it made you even wetter to feel the heat of his palms on your bare skin. 

His face began inching closer and closer to your cunt, and it was making your heart race. You thought he would begin taking your clothes off already, but he instead chose to lay his head on the inside of your thigh like it were a pillow. 

His eyes looked so curious and innocent, all while he was being so indecent. “What did you imagine while you touched yourself?” he asked. 

Your mouth went dry, but you knew this was coming. Jungwon was high on lust and ego at the moment, and he wouldn’t back down until he knew everything about your past. 

“It was such a long time ago,” you said with a shaky tone. Jungwon wasn’t even doing anything, but his gaze alone was making you nervous.

He sucked his teeth and looked over at the side in disbelief. “Stop acting so innocent. I know you remember exactly what happened.” His eyes began turning dark, and he looked like a predator who was about to pounce on his prey.

Your breath quickened, and you searched through your mind, in the deepest and dirtiest parts of it, to recall what you used to imagine.

“Well, for starters, I imagined that you fucked me right there in the water at the beach. I know, it’s weird. We were in public, and I almost died, but I had a fantasy that we swam to a nearby boulder, and you fucked me against it.”

He nodded slowly. “Nothing weird about it, not when I had a similar thought.”

“Really?” you blurted out.

"I can’t even get started on the thoughts I used to have about you, but that’s for another day.”

“But I want to hear—” you yelped as he pinched the skin of your thigh to shush your protest. 

"I want to hear about your fantasies right now. Now go on, tell me more, baby.” 

Fuck, he had such a strong hold on you. You wanted to tell him more, but it was becoming harder to think when he kept inching closer to your cunt, so close that you could now feel his breath on your sensitive clit. 

“Okay… Well, there were some days when I had a really hard time falling asleep. I didn't want to keep taking pills to help relax me, but nothing seemed to work until I just fucked myself to sleep,” you began. Jungwon fingers were now hooked around the waistband of your shorts. 

You elaborated, "I told you already that I used to ride my pillow, right? Well, that wasn’t enough for me. I decided to buy a longer body pillow, rub myself on it, and pretend in my mind that you were fucking me to sleep. It helped a bit, but it was never perfect because I wanted you inside me. Without you, I always felt empty.”

Jungwon could feel his cock hardening and the crotch of his jeans stretching to accommodate it. “Why didn’t you just get a dildo?”

You sighed.   By the end of tonight, he would surely think you were an absolute dork. "I guess I thought it was wrong because I only wanted it to be you.”

That’s my girl, Jungwon thought to himself. 

He chuckled and said, “So you wanted to be loyal to me even before we started dating? That’s pretty pathetic, you realise that?”

You glared at him and flicked his forehead again. “Fine, if it was so pathetic, then I’ll just end the story—ahh!” 

You threw your head back in shock as you felt Jungwon’s lips latch onto your inner thigh and begin sucking on it. You were especially sensitive in that area, and it didn’t help that he was being so rough with it. You could already feel him leaving a mark.

He released your thigh with a pop, and his lips were already puffy and glistening with spit. He looked all too proud of himself and whispered, “You will stop when I tell you to stop.”

You nodded submissively, and it always ended up like this with the two of you. You always fell in line with whatever he said, and you hated yet also loved your body for it.

He began pulling down your shorts and panties in one go, but you had to remain stable and continue telling him what he wanted. 

“The things I imagined were pretty dirty sometimes but soft during others." When I got sad, I would finger myself at the thought of you making love to me, but usually it was...rough.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, satisfied at the admission. Your shorts and panties were now tossed to the side, and he lifted your legs up over his shoulders to give him easier access to your pussy. Every time he laid his eyes on it, he looked like he had just opened a treasure chest. “Fuck, baby, you’re drenched.”

“Just for you, Wonie,” you whimpered, your palms landing on the seat of the couch, knowing you would need to grip the fabric to help balance you as he ate you out. 

He placed a kiss on your clit, as though to thank her for all the service she had done before and apologise in advance for the way he would ruin her tonight. The kiss sent a wave of shock through your spine, and you knew you were in for it now.

“So, what kind of rough sex did you imagine?” He asked right before leaning down and latching his mouth around your clit. 

“F-Fuck!” you moaned. You arched your back off the couch and looked down to see his eyes were still on you, looking carefully to note your every reaction. 

Did he really expect you to recite a story while he was sucking you off like this? Your hole began clenching at nothing, desperate for something to fill it up. 

Jungwon was looking eager, urging you to say something. "I... I always wanted you to pull my hair and spank me. Specifically when you would take me from behind. I liked the idea of being degraded and treated like that. I would even finger myself on my hands and knees to help it be more vivid.” 

The images running through Jungwon’s mind could have probably led him to cumming in his pants. He was glad to know that your past fantasies aligned with your current sex life, as he wanted you to be completely satisfied with it, but he knew there was something dirtier and unexpected that you were hiding.

“Well, that’s pretty fucking tame,” he said, cocking his head to the side. He didn’t really mean it, especially when your comfort was everything to him, but he was riling you up to get you to tell him more. 

You cried out at the feeling of his wet tongue playing roughly with your clit, and at this point, you weren’t sure how you were going to tell him everything when he already began inserting his pointer finger inside your cunt. You were so desperate for something inside you that you practically sucked him in, and your moans became louder with the increased pleasure.

The pressure began building inside you, and everything began to feel hazy, but you tried to soldier on. “And... it got really bad when we didn’t see each other for a long time. When you went back home during the autumn break, I almost lost my mind. I would even listen to the voice messages you left me just to hear you. I couldn't stop imagining you saying the most obscene things to me. My fingers were practically always inside me, and I almost lost it one of those days and thought about just calling you.” 

Sweat began dripping down your forehead, but you were nonetheless proud of yourself for managing to say all of that, even if you were shaky and stuttering. 

“What were you going to tell me?”

“That I wanted you to talk me through it.”

If Jungwon wasn’t hard already, he was now. He felt like a brick was nested in his pants, begging to be let loose, but he wasn’t about to start humping the couch to help relieve it, wanting to solely focus on you and your sopping pussy in his mouth. The thought of talking you through your orgasm on the phone made his brain almost short-circuit. 

"I would have if you told me to.”

"I know, Wonie,” you whined desperately. You could feel your first orgasm approaching, and you knew it was your first because Jungwon never let you rest at night, especially on nights like these. Your knuckles were becoming paler as you held on tightly to the couch, bracing yourself for what was to come.

Jungwon could have spent hours lapping at your cunt if he wanted to, but you could only handle so much, so he had to hold himself back as much as he could. 

You could feel his fingers now scissoring you open, thrusting deep into your walls, hoping to prep you as best as he could for taking his cock afterwards. 

His saliva began dripping down your pussy and landing on the cushion of the couch, leaving a dark mark on the fabric. He groans into your pussy as he feels your arousal coating his tongue, and he begins drooling like a man starved. “You taste so fucking good.”

He had to begin holding tighter onto your thighs as your sensitivity made you try to close them together. He wasn’t about to have any of that. 

You could feel him smirking against your sensitive cunt as he felt the quivering of your thighs from being forced open. Your skin was flushed, and you knew you had no more room in you to keep entertaining Jungwon with stories. 

With one final flick of his tongue, your eyes rolled back, and you began seeing stars in your eyes. He always made you see stars. 

You felt your pussy clench around Jungwon’s fingers, and his dick twitched at the sound and feeling of your orgasm. He loved seeing you like this; one day, he wanted to say fuck to your weak stamina and just fuck you all day long so he could see you filled with bliss like this. 

Your body went limp after the rush of your orgasm finally began to fade, and you let out a small giggle as you saw the way Jungwon’s chin was covered in your essence and his spit. He didn’t care, though, as he leaned up to lay a kiss on your lips, getting the spit all over you. 

“What else did you fantasise about?”

[lavandulawrites]

The fact that there are no yandere Kinich fics/hcs is illegal. Litterly, the whole internet is all over him and no single fic/hc? R u shitting me?

Anyways, if you would be as kind as to consider this following request: yandere Kinich with a darling who is in love with someone else.

You dont have to do it if you dont want to. Have a nice day and make sure to drink enough water!

A Supporting Friend

He is truly criminally underrated</3 Fun fact my saurian is called Roberto haha

Masterlist

Warnings: stalking, Ajaw being a dick (what’s new), Kinich is delusional, murder, slight gore, Kinich is jealous, female reader

Word count: 814

A second didn’t pass without him thinking of you. His hazel eyes trains on you as you went about your day. You were so effortlessly beautiful. Like a goddess. As the dark haired man snuck in the shadows following you, he couldn’t help but feel a burning hatred whenever you looked at him. He was taller than Kinich with huge muscles and a stupid smile that never left his face.

The raven haired man hid behind a large stacks of boxes as he watched over you. God knows what could happen to you now that the Abyss were more aggressive than ever.

His annoying companion popped out of thin air with a whine. “Are you seriously still following her?” the little dragon-like creature asked with amusement.

Kinich spared him not even a single glance as he continued to let his eyes watch you.

“Jeez, ya are seriously fucked in the head, aren’t ya?” the little gremlin laughed. “Just face it, she doesn’t like you. Just like everyone else, so why don’t you just trip and die?” Ajaw snickered like the little devil he was.

“Shut up” Kinich sneered as he looked Ajaw away which resulted in multiple cursers following.

Of course Kinich knew your heart didn’t belong his, at least not yet. Your eyes were sat on that disgusting fool of a man. It was a pity and made Kinch’s skin crawl.

Days passed and you continued to see Kinich as only a friend. A friend which you told all your secrets and asked for help with various matters. Normally the young man would be over the moon with being so close to you, but not when you continued to rant about him.

“Roberto looked at me today. He even smiled! Do you think he likes me Kinich?” you asked him as you looked off in the distance with a longing gaze.

Oh if only you knew how much he loved you, how his heart fluttered in his chest when you looked at him. When you smiled it was like the Celestia had granted their blessing. Still, he chose to hold his tongue and only hum at your question. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him” he answered with a strained voice. As he watched the red flowers that littered the meadow in front of them, he couldn’t help but imagine how Roberto’s blood would look against the lush grass.

“I want to ask him on a date” you interrupted his trained of thought. “Tomorrow” you turned to look at him with a huge smile. A bale blush dusted your cheeks as you thought about your crush.

Kinich’s heart quickened at the cute display of your blush. If only he was the one to make you blush. “Oh really?” he mumbled.

“Yeah. I want it to be perfect though. I am thinking in the field with flowers in the forest near my house. It’s the perfect spot. Really romantic.

“Indeed. Romantic” the words akin a sneer.

The next day the ancient name bearer jumped from tree to tree as he stalked Roberto on his way to hunt. The robust man was busy adjusting his crossbow, completely unaware to his surroundings. Kinich scoffed at his obliviousness and he couldn’t help the smirk that crept upon his lips.

He leapt down on the grown as silent as a feather as he crawled towards the man. His claymore already in his hand.

Quicker than a heartbeat he jumped up from the bush and ran towards Roberto.

Roberto screamed as he picked up his crossbow. Unfortunately for him, the weapon were not loaded and completely useless.

“What do you want?!” he screamed as he backed away with quick steps.

The hazel eyed man remained silent as he stalked closer and closer towards him.

With wide eyes Roberto turned on his heel and ran.

The case was as thrilling as Kinich had expected. Given his massive body, Roberto was rather slow compared to the shorter man. Stupid too.

It didn’t take long before Roberto had stopped at the end of the cliff. He was trapped between the blood thirsty man and the high fall. Neither he would survive.

Kinich had become tired of the little hunt so he leaped forward and missed Roberto’s chest by a mere centimetre. Which resulted in Roberto falling to his death with a high pitched scream that suited more a little girl than a 190 cm man.

Kinich peered over the cliff and down on the stony ground. Roberto’s body was no more than a red mass that looked like spaghetti given how he had landed on multiple sharp rocks. A satisfied smile tugged on Kinich’s lips.

Now he had to play the role of a comforting friend and hold you in his arms as you sobbed over your deceased crush. His smiled widened uncharacteristically at the thought of you finally being his.

[starglitterz]

♡ NIGHT DANCER.

��� nothing changed, please don't change… let's blend together, one more time. ❞ / after spending the night with you, how do the genshin men treat you in the morning after?

✧ feat ; albedo, cyno, kaedehara kazuha, scaramouche, shikanoin heizou, xiao x gn!reader ✧ warning(s) ; suggestive (esp scara and heizou) ✧ a/n ; HIII everybody make some noise for quill’s shocking once a year post!!! hope you guys like this and if it doesn’t show up in tags i will delete my account (/nsrs) anyways idk why i’ve been so obsessed w the idea of waking up next to someone (can you tell i’m critically lonely? 💀) and so this piece was born. pretend u don't notice how scara & xiao’s might seem kinda similar it’s bc i view them thru the same lens LOL ok hope you enjoy! (also ignore the scara favouritism im kinda obsessed w this idea for him KJASKJD)

please reblog + leave comments ! it helps a lot w motivation <3

✦ ALBEDO. [ kreideprinz ]

you’re awoken by the feeling of a cold breeze caressing your skin, and as you grasp for his familiar figure, you realise albedo’s not beside you anymore. but before you can freak out, his soft voice calls to you from behind you, “good morning, dove. don’t move, i’m almost finished.” “finished with what?” you query, deciding to obey him and stay still. he doesn’t answer at first, but you can hear a faint scratching sound which almost sounds like charcoal against parchment. “and… done.” you shift in the bed, turning around to face him. albedo looks almost ethereal in the early morning light, especially when he smiles at you like you hung the stars in the sky. “i do hope you don’t find this peculiar, but i wanted to draw you while you were asleep. you looked so peaceful, and i wanted to immortalise this moment.” he hands you the paper, strands of wheat-coloured hair spilling over his shoulders, let loose from his usual half ponytail. you’re the only one who gets to see him like this, messy and imperfect instead of the flawless scientist he portrays to the rest of mondstadt. you gaze at the drawing, absorbing every detail as you try not to faint from what a sweet gesture this is, “albedo, this is amazing! you made me look so pretty.” he tilts his head quizzically, raising an eyebrow, “what do you mean? i just drew you exactly how i see you – you’re always beautiful to me.”

✦ CYNO. [ judicator of secrets ]

cyno's skin looks almost golden in the sunlight filtering through the translucent curtains. you're lying on your side, gazing at him and just admiring his features when his red eyes flutter open and he murmurs, “i might have to charge you for looking so much.” his voice is rougher than normal, deepened by sleep and it makes heat rush to your cheeks. “morning, babe-ah!” you can barely get out your greeting before he's pulling you back into his embrace, strong arms wrapping around you as he nuzzles into your neck. “cyno!” you laugh, turning around to face him, “stop it, i'm hungry! i wanna go get breakfast-” “hi hungry, i'm cyno,” your boyfriend looks at you with the most deadpan expression, and you're momentarily stunned. then you groan and throw a pillow at his head, “you're so lame!” “i'm not so lame, i just told you i'm cyno- okay, okay, i'll stop!” you collapse into a fit of giggles right as you're about to pummel his chest, “lamest ever.” “mmm,” cyno mumbles, eyes already fluttering shut again as he feels your plush warmth against him, “i'll make you breakfast, i swear, but can we just stay like this for a little longer?”

✦ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA. [ scarlet leaves pursue wild waves ]

the first thing you see when you wake up are kazuha's crimson irises laser-focused on you. the way his eyes scan your features, it’s almost like he’s tracing every detail to commit to memory, as if every morning that he wakes up next to you could be his last. “kazu? what's-” you're interrupted by a yawn, and your boyfriend's gaze softens as he looks at you. as you brush his red-streaked hair out of his face, he leans into your touch, almost cat-like in the motion, “what is it, 'zuha?” “i was just thinking... you make me glad to be a poet,” a gentle smile graces his features. “what? why?” despite the fact that kazuha is always letting praise fall from his lips like jewels, you didn't even remotely expect his answer. “because it means i'm lucky enough to be able to properly convey how you make me feel, and how gorgeous you are,” kazuha presses a sweet kiss on your forehead, then his brow furrows slightly, “but i don't think there's enough words in the world for me to speak about what you mean to me.”

✦ SCARAMOUCHE. [ kunikuzushi ]

when scaramouche wakes up, his first thought is; why does my entire body hurt? eyes still half-lidded and drowsy, he looks down and he's met with the sight of your back pressed against his torso, his arm thrown carelessly over your waist. he scrambles backwards, eyes widening with shock, and his sudden frantic movement wakes you up too. “what are you doing in my bed?!” “what the hell, scara?” you mumble, rubbing away the sleep from your eyes, “it’s too early for you to be this loud.” scaramouche’s heart is beating a million times a minute, and it’s only exacerbated by how cute you look when you’re this sleepy, not that he’d admit it to you for the world. but as you yawn and sit up, he thinks that he’s going to go into cardiac arrest. “you didn’t answer my question!” you give him a weird look, “we slept together. again. duh.” the blanket wrapped around your figure slides off a little as you reply, revealing your bare shoulder and giving him the faintest glimpse of your chest, and scaramouche’s face turns so red you genuinely think he might explode. “c-cover yourself up!” he scolds, clambering closer to drape the fabric over you again as his mind works through the haze of sleep, letting the memories of last night flood back.

realising how flustered he is, you take this as the perfect opportunity to tease him, “it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” “shut up.” he replies curtly, but he hesitates as his fingers skim over the bite mark on your collarbone. his eyes darken slightly as he recalls last night, the messy kisses that were more tongue than anything else, his teeth nipping at your neck and finally sinking into your skin, all to mark you as his. you’ve both never officially decided what the two of you are, but you both know that he’s yours and you’re his, and scaramouche doesn’t like sharing. a playful smirk curves your lips, “remember giving this to me?” “don’t test me,” he mumbles, eyes roving over your exposed skin. his gaze dips to the still slipping blanket, hands ceasing their rapid motion to try and rescue your modesty, “i might give you more.” your arms loop around his neck, pulling him back down to the bed as you smile teasingly, “so do it.” “you’re a bad influence,” scaramouche groans, hands already moving to grip your hips, and you laugh, “that’s why you love me~”

✦ SHIKANOIN HEIZOU. [ analytical harmony ]

“good morning~” heizou's lilting voice is the first thing you hear when you wake up, and his trademark smile is already on his idiotically kissable lips as the two of you lie next to each other in his bed. “you do this with all the criminals you catch?” you drawl, trying to ignore how your heart skips a beat as you see the way his green eyes twinkle in the light. “just the ones i think look best in a different type of handcuffs,” he replies smoothly without missing a beat, smirk deepening as he notices he's left you speechless. “plus,” his hand trails across your cheek, thumb stroking your skin for a split second before his smile turns devilish, “it'd be pretty hard for me to get them to the police station if i left them all unable to walk.” “ugh, heizou!” you swat his shoulder, and bury your face in the pillow as he bursts into laughter. “but seriously,” heizou taps your shoulder gently, almost hesitantly, and you peek up from the pillow to look at him. a soft pink blush dusts his cheeks, and his eyes flicker away from yours in a manner that seems almost shy, “you're the only person i'd do this with, criminal or not.”

✦ XIAO. [ vigilant yaksha ]

waking up next to you is like a little slice of heaven for xiao. he can barely believe that he, the corrupted conqueror of demons, is able to share a bed with a mortal who borders on angelic. you shift in xiao's embrace, tucking your head under his chin almost instinctively as your eyes open slowly, “good morning, xiao. did you sleep well?” he still gets embarrassed by your proximity, so his voice is a little curt as he responds with a pink blush darkening his cheeks, “adepti do not require sleep.” “ah…” you roll your eyes, but pounce on the opportunity to fluster him, “guess that's why you always want to go all night, hm?” “i-!” xiao's face turns an almost delightful shade of crimson and he looks away, “no respect for the adepti.” “not true!” you gasp with mock offense. cuddling up against him, you stick your tongue out, “i respect alllll the adepti. but my boyfriend? maybe not so much.” “you'll be the death of me,” xiao sighs, pulling you impossibly closer. “then i hope you'll die a happy man,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his jade hair. xiao's eyes slide shut from the feeling of you playing with his hair, and he murmurs a response that leaves you speechless, “after a life with you? certainly.”

i love them this is so soft when is it my turn // general masterlist

© starglitterz 2023. do not repost or modify in any way - reblog and leave comments if you enjoyed !

[rninies]

✮ bad actor

౨ৎ diluc x reader. fluff, gn!reader, diluc is so in love w u Lol — wc: 616

notes. first genshin fic dont Flop plz 🙏🏻 tagging @chuluoyi :3

"why are you laughing?" diluc asks as he places your food down in front of you. he sits down, ripping open a plastic straw and handing it over to you.

you take the straw from him, quietly thanking him. "because you're so obvious..." a smile appears once more on your face, barely holding back another laugh from escaping your lips.

diluc raises an eyebrow. “what do you mean?” he starts eating the burger in front of him by cutting it into smaller pieces so it’s easier for him to eat — you still don’t understand why he does that. you find it easier to just bite into it. “you’re not making any sense, y/n.”

“why don’t you just bite the burger? it’s way easier that way you know,” you sighed leaning forward. “also, you’re a really bad actor, diluc.”

he frowns. “i’d rather not dirty my hands with grease and sauce.” he sets the burger down, wiping his mouth with a tissue. “why would i be a bad actor? you’ve never seen me act before.”

you hummed. “well, you are acting right now. and it’s not going well, let me tell you.”

diluc seems even more confused after you’ve explained it (well, more like subtly hint at it). he ponders on your sentence for a little longer but eventually gives up when he finishes taking a sip from his drink. “seriously what do you mean by that? i don’t understand what you’re saying at all.”

“you have a crush on me, do you?” as soon as the words escaped your mouth, diluc choked on his drink, coughing violently making a few other customers look at him with concern. “see, i told you i’m right!”

as soon as he calms down from his coughing fit, he clears his throat, cheeks turning red. “i don’t- i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he distracts himself from the smug smile you’re giving by continuing to eat his burger, eyes looking everywhere except you.

“hey come on, look at me!” you teased him, squishing his cheeks with your hand, forcing him to look at you. “aw, you look so cute all embarrassed.”

he moves your hand away from his face. “no, i’m not. shut up.”

you smiled again, resting your chin on your hand. “my boyfriend is so cute.”

“no, i’m not-” diluc stops, finally processing what you just called him. “you- boyfriend? are you serious?”

“what? do you not want to be my boyfriend?” you teased, taking one french fry from diluc’s plate and eats it, patiently waiting for diluc’s answer. 

diluc looks away before mumbling out an answer. “yes, i do want to be your boyfriend.”

you clapped your hands together, looking extremely happy. “great! honestly, i was waiting for you to confess first, but knowing how stubborn you are with your own feelings, you wouldn’t confess even if it’s been twenty years.”

“wha- why didn’t you make the first move then?” diluc asks, seemingly upset that you saw right through him. “you made me wait instead of-”

you laughed. “i loved seeing your reactions you know? you get all embarrassed every time i slightly touch you. it’s cute.”

“i regret ever having a crush on you.” diluc states, frowning as he takes his last bite out of his burger. “now hurry up and finish your meal unless you want to miss the movie.”

“ah-” you clearly forgot all about the movie ever since you started the topic of diluc’s feelings for you. “shit.”

“yeah. now finish it, dummy.” diluc murmurs, hiding a smile behind his hand as he watches you eat your food, face puffing up as you stuff your mouth. “cute.” he whispers under his breath.

[ilys00ga]

BABY, I CARE FOR YOU.

➞ pair: yoongi x f reader

➞ genre: sickfic, best friends to potential lovers (who knows?), fluffy fluff, yoongi being the best bff you could ever ask for, I miss him so much.

➞ synopsis: where the reader is sick and her bff is always there for the rescue.

➞ warnings: none.

➞ A/N: another request by @parkjennykim, who used 'she/her' pronouns in the req so I used those accordingly. This was fun to write. I hope you enjoy it :)

PS. readers, remember my reqs are still open for now. you can go ahead and send some (read pinned post if u haven't yet, tho).

★ MASTERLIST.

ᵎᵎ 𖦹彡⋆｡˚・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

the bag you've been carrying all day slipped off of your shoulder as soon as you pushed the door to your apartment open and stepped in. not bothering to pick it up, you remove your shoes and leave them somewhere near the entrance and take a deep breath through the nose.

your body was having a party that day. muscles and head aching like crazy, throat bleeding as it burned with a ticklish feeling that lingered for hours and bringing out coughing fits from your chest every few minutes, legs barely holding you up and an annoyingly runny nose, you're sure the skin around it is red and raw from how you've been rubbing at it with tissues all day. not to forget the fact that you were freezing to death even though the heaters were doing their work in the flat more than enough.

“Mom is finally home!” A loud squeal came rushing from down the hall. You raised your head with some difficulty to see your best friend approaching you with your cat, Leo, in his arms and a wide smile adorning his face. He stopped in his tracks and frowned, however, as soon as he noticed your scowling expression and bloodshot eyes.

“Woah, you look so not happy right now.” he commented.

“What are you doing here, Yoongi?” Though your expression softened as you spoke, your voice still held a wince the more uncomfortable the light bulb became to your squinted eyes.

“You didn’t answer my calls or even texts, so I just decided to come over myself.” he explained, then eyed you up with knitted brows and a barely noticeable pout on his cherry red lips, “are you okay?”

“My head and body are killing me. I’m going to sleep. You can stay as much as you like, just feed Leo before you leave, plea-." A couple of sneezes cut your sentence off. The action stabbed daggers into your already throbbing brain; so painful that your eyes teared up and you squeezed your hands around your skull to try and control the waves of shock that hit you all of a sudden.

“Wait,” Yoongi put Leo on the floor and walked towards you. the back of his hand felt like a soft, warm blanket wrapped up around your body on a cold, snowy night as it rested on your forehead, so you closed your eyes and hummed in satisfaction.

“You’re so hot.” he grimaced at the heat that bit his skin, and when he noticed how you smirked mischievously with your eyes still closed shut, he whined, “don’t!”

“I’m not doing anything!” Your tongue felt numb as you blinked your eyes open and smiled at him.

“Come, you need to take a warm bath and eat something.” his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, slowly pulling towards the bathroom.

"Your hands are always warm. I like that a lot." you whispered, absent-mindedly eying the way he was soothingly caressing the skin under his thumb.

“Are you going to bathe me?” his cheeks warmed up at the question you blurted so suddenly, but the way you were slurring your words implied that none of the things you were rambling about were intentional. the fever really took its toll on your brain.

“Go do your thing, and I'm going to make you something warm to eat.” he bit his lower lip and pointed towards the bathroom, leaving to start doing his task in the kitchen.

"The walls are spinning around me!" You whimpered as soon as you entered your room, wet hair wrapped up in a towel, a fluffy, warm hoodie swallowing your torso and a pair of sweatpants. Yoongi, who was sitting on your bed, immediately fixed his gaze on you with a small smile. you could spot your favorite pair of socks laying beside him on the bed sheets, and your heart skipped a beat or two at how thoughtful that small gesture alone was.

"I'm sorry. let me just blow dry your hair, and then you can eat." he apologized, pointing at the hair dryer he'd been holding in his hand and patting the empty spot next to him.

"You're spoiling me today." You complained, but still obediently sat besides your sweet friend.

"You're sick, I'm taking care of you." he replied matter-of-factly.

you murmured a small 'thank you' before he gently started taking the wet towel off your head, then started carefully drying your hair.

When you stepped into the kitchen, you found Yoongi setting plates, along with utensils on the small table located by the wall. his eyes landed on you as soon as your painful-sounding coughs announced your arrival.

“Feeling any better?” his brows rose worriedly, and his gaze followed your hunched up body as it walked and took a seat.

“kind of. thanks for the food.” You offered a genuine smile despite all the tiredness washing over your limbs. he nodded knowingly.

“Here, take these when you finish eating.” He put a tablet right next to your bowl and sat across from you, digging into his own plate as well.

After a while, you decided to break the comfortable silence when your eyes fell upon the clock hanging just above the door frame, “You have work tomorrow, and it’s getting late. you should probably go.”

“I know you’re a jackass and you’d sleep on an empty stomach if you wanted to, even when you’re sick.” he muttered so casually it almost made you giggle if it weren't for the guilt of forcing him to stay taking over your mind.

“That’s not right!” You started to argue but hissed when your head reminded you that it still got a tornado going on inside of it as it throbbed even harder.

“Stop talking and eat!” he scolded, and you wordlessly complied.

"I'm not leaving until you're tucked into bed and fast asleep," he added in a stern tone after a small pause, making you grin weakly and stuff your face with another spoonful of soup.

"Are you feeling any better?" Once again, yoongi asked after pulling the duvet over your chin. he chose to sit right by your side, on the floor and with his back facing you.

you replied with a muffled hum, barely audible as you were busy gratefully enjoying the softness of your comforter with closed eyes. it felt as though it had some kind of magic that absorbed all the aching tension in your body, allowing you to finally heave a sigh in relief after such a long, tiring day.

"Where's Leo?" you asked.

"probably napping somewhere after his meal."

"You fed him?"

"Of course I did. I'm not like you, forgetting my cat as soon as I get sick." he smirked teasingly.

"I didn't! I knew you were gonna stay, and I trusted you, like I always do." Your voice was only getting weaker and weaker, sleepy as you fought a battle against sleep just to answer your cheeky best friend.

Yoongi only smiled, glancing at you with tinted cheeks. he allowed his gaze to linger just a tad bit more on your closed eyes, nose poking out above the fuzzy blanket and shoulders ever so faintly shivering as the fever still clung onto you. he found the sight so endearing, he chuckled quietly and sighed, "Good to know you do."

"'m so 'ired." You slurred.

"Sleep, darling. I'm right here." was the last thing you heard him say ever so gently before surrendering your powers and drifting into a deep slumber.

Yoongi kept observing as you slept for a while before standing up. He bent down to press one soft kiss on your cheek and another one on your forehead, then walked out of the room with extra efforts not to make any noise and disturb your peaceful night when it had just started.

"Mom is sleeping. Let's hang out in the living room, hmm?" He picked up the fluffy cat that came running towards him as soon as he saw the door opening and kissed his head. heading towards the living room with a small smile on his face.

[venusiangguk]

the art of trying | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / dilf!jk x grocery store clerk!oc

>>genre: friends with benefits, smut, angst

>>word count: 29.3k 😁

>>warnings: dom jk, sub oc, age gap, oc club era 🪩🥂, oc heart to heart with…, enter mr park seojoon !!, budding friendships 🥰, mending of relationships, enter dilf !!, reconciliation finally, but still we yearn, and jk is still a little stewpid, however!! he is doing his best!!, mostly oc pov i think, warning for a little bit of sad bc she is sad !!, but not too sad 😼, enter jock !!, dilf jk stuff: asking for permission, saying thank u, etc., fore play in the form of a lil dry humping 🫶🏻, finishes (multiple),, oral (m & f), dirty talk, lovesick gross smitteness 👎🏻, jreampie 👍🏻,  and finally, enter nari !! (🧋)

>>notes: finally am i right 🤣

this is part of my dilf jk series that can be found on my masterlist

>>summary: you’re trying to forget jungkook, but he’s trying to make sure you remember why you shouldn’t. 

It’s the middle of January and I haven’t learned to be okay without you, yet. The wind outside is harsh and cold. It hurts my feelings sometimes. 

 It reminds me of you, sometimes, too.

 I still miss you.

 “Girl, what does that even mean?”

 Your laptop gets slammed shut, and you whip your head around to see Binna. Your very best friend that has been caught red-handed, reading over your shoulder.

 “Do you mind?” you say with narrowed eyes.

 “I do actually,” she says, walking around the couch and plopping next to you. 

 You roll your eyes and rephrase with something she’s hopefully less likely to have an answer to. “Can I help you?”

 Binna looks stumped for approximately .4 seconds –not nearly long enough to be satisfying– and then she’s saying, “No, but you can help yourself. Please go to therapy. I am begging you and also I will pay for it.” 

 “Die.”

 “C’mon, you’ve been sad for like almost 2 months,” she groans, “and it’s like… tangible, ___. I walk into the house and I can feel it. It just permeates the air and– look, it even killed the plant.”

 Binna’s pointed finger guides your gaze to the small succulent on the windowsill and it’s a bit pathetic how your eyes start to tear up because it is in fact, the tiny succulent Jeongguk gave you so many months ago. You had done a good job of taking care of it for a while, his occasional texts reminding you to water it had been helpful. But lately you haven’t even really been taking care of yourself, and the little plant has, unfortunately, become collateral damage. 

 You also don’t get those texts anymore.

 With big watery eyes and a fat bottom lip, you turn back to her and she sighs. Grabs the remote and pauses whatever is playing on the tv. This makes Jade squawk, something about her watching it and it being the best part but Binna is having none of it.

 “No, this is actually dire. She’s crying over the plant, Jade. We have to intervene, it’s time.”

 Jade pouts for a moment, looking between the tv and you as if she can’t decide which is more pressing. When she crawls from her place where she was laying on the floor to your feet, it seems her decision is made. She rests her chin on your knee.

 “Still sad over the dilf?” she asks.

 You nod pitifully.

 “She was openly writing melancholy about him… it's a public cry for help,” Binna adds.

 With a nod of understanding, Jade says, “Writing can be a good way to get your thoughts together and work through them.”

 Choosing not to tell them that you don’t think you’ll ever be able to work through all the thoughts because there are just too many and it hurts too bad, you stay quiet.

 It’s not an awkward silence that takes over the living room, but you can tell that Binna and Jade are trying to think of something to say. Jade ends up being the one to interrupt the quiet.

 “Has he reached out to you at all?”

 The unanswered text on your phone started as a temptation, but it’s ended as a little memo that helps put things into perspective. 

 Did you get home okay?

 Jeongguk made his decision and he only sent you that text because he let you leave. 

 He sent you that text after he made it so incredibly clear that he wasn’t going to let you stay in his life.

 Despite you telling him you’d think about things, let him know what you decided in regards to you and him– he really didn’t leave much room for you to do that. He’s hard-headed and he’s extreme and when he makes his mind up about something… it’s not likely anyone will be able to change it. Especially if it has to do with Nari.

 And it’s not like you don’t get it. You do, to some extent at least. 

 Nari is his baby and Nari is his priority. Just like she should be. That’s self-explanatory and easy to understand. If Jeongguk felt you being in his life somehow messed with his priorities and decided it wasn’t going to work out between you two after giving it some thought– it wouldn’t have been easy, but you would have accepted it nonetheless. 

 But part of you believes he didn’t give it much thought at all because one moment he was washing you, taking care of you, kissing you. Making you feel like you were his and he was yours and like he cared. Like he was always going to be there; like he was endless. 

 Then the next he was telling you it was all basically a mistake to him. That he didn’t know if he had the room or the time for you anymore. Like you were an amenity with a timeframe. Something that was worthwhile, until it wasn’t anymore. Something nice that was momentarily useful, something that perhaps made his life better, easier in a way… but something that ultimately wasn’t necessary.  

 The turnaround was too abrupt and too abrasive and too rash for you to accept that it wasn’t impulsive. That he truly thought it through. You think that’s what’s hindering you from moving on. 

 A part of you almost wishes that you could fool yourself into believing he did mull it over. That he simply ‘changed his mind’. Because that’s better than the uncertainty that comes with him cutting you out so heedlessly. 

 If Jeongguk had a change of heart– it means that, at one point, his heart was sure of you; his heart did want you. 

 It’s deceiving, but it hurts less than the uncertainty. 

 The ache that comes with longing for what was is concrete and irrefutable in a bittersweet sense because at least in that case, what you’re yearning for was something that you had; something that was real. 

 You can’t pinpoint the pain that comes with uncertainty. There’s too much room for doubt, too many times you can mistake a ‘what if’ for a ‘what was’. There are too many ways you can spin the past if you’re not certain of it. Too many different outcomes you can craft. There are too many ways that uncertainty can hurt

 Jeongguk’s 180 took place barely within a few hours. Specific changes were instantaneous. Like the quiet unease that shrouded the atmosphere; the quick developing doubt that inevitably tainted both your affections. In all honestly, you could feel the shift as soon as he walked into the playroom after talking to Nari’s mom.

 Dasom.

 The things you feel when you think about her make you feel so ugly. Like your heart is rotten within your core, ruining you from the inside because it’s so easy to blame her and resent her for everything that occurred. Easy to pin the earth-shattering, tectonic shift in your and Jeongguk’s dynamic on her. It’s easy to hate her for the things she said about you, for the thoughts she put into Jeongguk’s head. But deep inside, right next to your rotten heart, there’s something small that’s telling you it’s easiest to hate her because you aren’t her. 

 An achy heaviness levels in your gut and you press your eyes shut tightly, consciously making an effort to not tear up. It still hurts so badly. In a way you don’t even really understand. You’re not sure if it stems from jealousy or insecurity or maybe both. 

 But there is something so excruciatingly painful, something that feels so devastatingly unfair, about Jeongguk and Dasom.

 It’s absurd and it’s stupid to let an ex get to you. You know that and you’re aware that it’s the past and that it’s over between them… but when you think about all of the history? It’s enough to overthink and compare. To wonder ‘what if?’, ask yourself ‘why?’ and ‘does he still?’.  

 Because they loved each other; were in love with each other. They had the sweetest little baby girl together. Dasom will always know Jeongguk in a way that you won’t. She will always know versions of him that you never will. She will always have a part of him and be a part of his life. She will always know him longer than you. No matter what –even if you and Jeongguk had stayed together, fallen in love, and gotten married– she was still there first. In a sense, you won’t ever be able to catch up to her– to them or what they had.

 You almost have to laugh at yourself for thinking like that because it’s so pathetically dramatic and pointless. Because yes, letting an ex get to you is both absurd and stupid. But especially so when you let it get to you after months. 

 Bitterly, you consider that maybe Jeongguk was right. Maybe you were too young for him, and maybe you really weren’t ready for everything that came with him.

 When your thoughts are reeled back in, you tell Jade about Jeongguk’s text you never answered.

 “God what a whore,” Binna groans. “What kind of person asks that after cutting you out of their life?”

 “A man,” Jade reasons.

 It makes you chuckle a small laugh, and the silence that settles this time is a little more comfortable. A couple of minutes pass with the three of you pretending to watch Jade’s show when Binna clears her throat.

 She tries to keep her voice light and casual, acts as if she’s just making conversation. “You’ve been lurking, no?”

 She will be disappointed when you admit that you’ve tried. But she’ll also be pleased to know that you simply can’t.

 “He doesn’t have Instagram.” You shrug your shoulders as if it’s not a big deal and like your recently searched isn’t full of accounts that have some variation of Jeongguk’s name in the user.

 “He probably has Facebook, he’s old,” Jade says absently, eyes glued to the television once again.

 Binna gets a worried look on her face when she can physically see the lightbulb go off in your head. Then her expression shifts into one of tired disapproval. “Thank you for that, Jade.”

 Jade’s reply is simply a preoccupied, half-hearted ‘My bad’.

 But you do not care and your phone is already out. 

 You’re trying to move on, you are. Truly. One peek won’t hurt. Also–

 “He’s not old, he’s only 29,” you say distractedly, waiting for the app to download before the phone is promptly plucked from your hands. “Hey–”

 “Give me that,” Binna interrupts, “If you look him up, you will come up in his ‘people you may know’. I don’t want that for you, and you don’t want that for you. Trust me.”

 With a frowny pout on your face, you settle back into that couch. “Well… I don’t want you coming up in whatever that is either, right?” 

 “You do not need to worry about that because I am a professional and I am crazy. What’s his last name again?”

 Professional and crazy sound like adjectives that are not supposed to go together, but you don’t argue and when she pulls out her own phone, you answer her. 

 Binna’s sleuthing seems to be entertaining enough for Jade to abandon her show, moving from her place at your feet to a seat next to Binna looking over her shoulder. Nervousness keeps you from joining, quietly just waiting for the few moments it takes for Binna to find what she’s looking for. 

 “Ah! Jeon Jeongguk, 30, C–” she gasps, eyes wide as she looks at you, “you didn’t tell us he was a CEO!”

 You shrug. “Didn’t seem important. And I told you already, he’s 29. Not 30.”

 Binna’s brows furrow before she’s looking at her phone again, bringing it close to her face and using her thumbs to zoom in on the profile picture. “Is this not him?”

 “No, that’s him,” Jade confirms, face close to Binna’s. “I’ve seen enough pictures of him in the groupchat that I also see him in my dreams.”

 “Please don’t dream about him,” you say musingly, reaching to snatch the phone from Binna just like she did to you.

 It is in fact your Jeon Jeongguk pictured on the phone. His profile picture is candid, him smiling wide with those puffs under his eyes, probably mid-laugh. But it still seems professional enough, he’s in one of his many expensive suits, with his tie on, and his hair done sleek.

 And you can feel how a small, sad smile comes to rest on your lips. You carefully click on the picture to see when it was posted.

 Just a couple of weeks ago. 

 And the small, sad smile gets even smaller and even sadder. He looks happy enough, and you hope he is. But it stings a little for some reason. 

 Then you remember why you pilfered the phone in the first place.

 Looking over his profile, you see the basic information. His alumn, his job, his hometown. You click the ‘about info’ option below all of that and it’s then that you see his birthday, and that his age is indeed 30. And you feel silly, a little embarrassed, for not knowing. Or maybe forgetting?

 Though, you’re almost positive you didn’t forget. That you wouldn’t have forgotten something like his birthday. That you couldn’t have because Jeongguk was your favorite person. 

 You trade Binna her phone back for yours.

 The photos in your camera roll on his alleged birthday are from what you thought was a random day that Jeongguk asked you to come over.

 It was kinda spontaneous for him. Considering he was someone that usually liked to plan, getting a random phone call from him while you were still at work was out of character. He simply asked if you wanted to come over. Just laze around with him, watch a movie, or something. Stay the night, maybe. He sounded slightly boyish when he asked, like he was trying to mask the hopeful excitement in his voice. You told him yes, of course, but that you wouldn’t be able to come until after work. 

 When you showed up at his, still clad in your work uniform, he was beaming. You barely made it through the door before he was literally giving you the shirt off his back to change into, helping you out of your polo and khakis.

 In the photo you’re looking at, your head is in Jeongguk’s lap and he’s shirtless looking at the tv with his hand over your mouth. You had been purposefully asking too many questions, just like you always did. The picture was taken from below so the angle is a little funny.

 And even though you’re smiling at the memory, the image turns blurry as you start to tear up. Something about it warms your heart while simultaneously breaking it. 

 Apparently, he didn’t want gifts, or anything extravagant. Seeing as he omitted telling you it was the one day of the year that everything was supposed to be about him, the one day he was supposed to be doted on. Jeongguk just wanted to be with you. Just your company was enough for him. Just you were enough for him.

 “He never told me it was his birthday, but he asked me to come over,” you tell your friends, with your thumb swiping through the many pictures you took that day. “Like me just being there was a good enough birthday present or something?”

 Jade can hear the waver in your voice, and she gently says, “Maybe we shouldn’t look at old pics if it’s going to make us sad, hmm?”

 “Maybe we should delete them, hmm?” Binna chirps.

 You hear them but you continue till you get through the whole night and the next morning. The tears are so heavy in your eyes, but you try to laugh, dabbing at your waterline with your sleeve when you say, “I like– really miss him, guys,” before you end up just covering your face with your palms and letting yourself have your moment.

 Jade coos, scooching closer to you, pulling you to her side. She rubs your shoulder soothingly. “I know you do, ___,” she says quietly. 

 Your roommate has really come a long way since the first conversation you had with her about Jeongguk. The other roommate, however, seems like she is regressing. 

 “We have got to get you out of the house and onto another dick. Your vibrator is tired and your pillow probably smells like the ocean because of all the tears it’s soaked up. It probably needs a wash, too.”

 “Binna!” Jade scolds.

 “No, like I’m so serious right now,” Binna defends, “I understand being sad over a breakup, but it’s been months. And over a grown man who lets his literal ex-wife, whom he divorced, still have such a pull on him? Like c’mon. What the fuck is that?”

 “She’s allowed to be sad! And those things you listed make her sadness even more warranted. You were holed up in your room for months too, at one point,” Jade reminds, “But it was over a boyband breaking up.”

 “In hindsight, it was very good for Zayn to leave,” Binna amends before giving you her attention. “Listen I get it, but I just want you to be happy again… You know?”

 When you peek up at her with a sniffle, she looks sad.

 “I don’t want you to get stuck in the sad and the hurt, ___,” she says quietly, “because sometimes when people get stuck in the sad and in the hurt, they can’t like– get unstuck. You know? Nothing gets better. The depression just swallows them and they don’t ever feel better and– I want you to feel better.”

 Binna’s not the most eloquent, but she has the biggest heart. And you know she means well, and despite how stuck in the sad and the hurt you truly are, you know that she does have a point. 

 You have to brood over it for a moment, and you kind of feel like you’re outside of your body when you agree. Like you’re hearing someone else say, “Okay, where are we going?”

 ~~~

 The club lights are too bright and strobing too fast, just asking for someone to seize. Your feet hurt because the heels you’re wearing are too high. You figured the weeks following New Year’s would be less crowded, that everyone would be recovering from blackouts and bad decisions. The sheer number of people around you tells you otherwise. You’re not having a good time. 

 When you tell your roommates as much, their response is handing you a shot. A few shots.

 And since alcohol is essentially magic, with every shot glass that is emptied down your throat, the night grows more enjoyable and less likely to be remembered. The lights turn pretty, and the ache in your feet becomes dull and muted, just like the one in your heart. 

 You’re dancing how a person who doesn’t know how to would. Hips swaying, arms occasionally going above your head before slinking back down and over your body. The bass in the club makes it feel like everything is vibrating and it makes you laugh dumbly, eyes squeezing shut as you giggle to yourself. You know Binna and Jade are close by, but it feels like you’re in your own little world.

 “I feel good,” you yell over the music to no one in particular. Eyes still closed, a loose-lipped smile lingering at the corners of your mouth.

 The warmth of a body can be felt behind you, though it’s not quite pressing against you yet. It doesn’t feel bad, and neither do the fingertips ghosting along the curve of your waist. You press into the touch, the heat, a little more. A chiffon chuckle is puffed over the crown of your head. The tentative fingers at your waist get more firm, their grip trying to steady you.

 “You look good, too,” the body behind you says, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It makes chills prick at your skin.

 You bite your lip to keep from smiling at the sensation, at the words. Your hand goes to cover the bigger one on your waist. You intentionally keep the touch constant when you turn around in their hold. Their palm slides along your body till it’s settling on your lower back just above the swell of your ass.

 When you look up, your reply gets caught in your throat.

 The owner of the warm body behind you is handsome, strikingly so. Tall, strong. Smile dreamy, and eyes dark. He gives you a soft grin accompanied by an encouraging nod, wanting you to say what you can’t seem to get out.

 “Uh–” you sputter with a wince, before clearing your throat, “I– yeah, um… thanks, you too.”

 You can’t hear his laugh over the music, but you can tell he’s amused by the way his chest rumbles, and how his eyes curl. The hand at the base of your spine moves to your hip, squeezing gently.

 His other hand is moving, too, and your track it till it’s tucking some hair behind your ear. You go still and flush when he leans down to your ear again. “I’m Seo-joon,” he tells you.

 Introducing yourself is the automatic reply he gets, and he hums, eyes scanning your face. The hand that tucked your hair trails down your arm until his fingers meet yours. They flirt for a moment before they lace together. His movements seem shy, but they’re actually very calculated. Well practiced. Like he does this a lot. Like he knows exactly how to get what he wants. 

 The realization sobers you some. Not enough to clear all of the drunken fog in your head, but enough to make you vaguely more alert. 

 “I think you’re a… a little too good at this for me, Mr. Seo-joon.” 

 Seo-joon briefly looks surprised, eyes widening like a child who’s been caught in a lie. Then he’s recovering, laughing. “Ah,” he muses, guiding your arms to drape over his shoulders, your hands interlocking behind his neck. His hands do the same around your waist as he pulls you a little closer. “I don’t know, you might be the one that’s too good? Too smart? Read me like an open book.”

 There’s a flutter in your tummy that you haven’t felt in months and it’s exciting. Makes you giddy as you blink up at him sluggishly, eyelids heavy. 

 “Are you not?” you ask him, coquettishly referring to him being easy to read. “Aren’t you here for the usual?”

 He looks up like he’s thinking. Then he’s shrugging, like there’s no point in denying the obvious. Crowding your space, cheek brushing yours as he talks into your ear again, he asks, “And why are you here, ___? The usual, as well?”

 Seo-joon doesn’t move out of your space like the times he did before, instead pulling you into him a bit more, making your space his space too. Lips brush against the corner of your jaw, just below your ear. Teasing, yet sure. 

 “I’m here to forget–” Your hand twines into the hair at the nape of his neck when he nips softly at your earlobe, making you gasp quietly, interrupting yourself. “–about someone.”

 He lets out a smug sound of understanding. “That’s about as ‘usual’ as it gets, ___,” you hear him say, before he purrs confidently, “Let me help you.”

 And when he molds his lips to yours, you expect the kiss to feel as good as the lead-up. 

 You expect the butterflies in your belly to flutter wildly– not go still. You expect the hands roaming over your body to feel rousing– not misplaced, like they aren’t supposed to be there. When you open your mouth to let him lick inside, you expect it to feel right. But it doesn’t. Sure, it doesn’t feel wrong, necessarily. But it doesn’t feel like it should. He doesn’t feel like he should.

 But you want him to. You want Seo-joon to feel right, and you want him to feel good. You want it so badly that you go home with him. 

 ~~~

 The cab ride is nothing but a precursor– something that needs to happen but not something that needs to be remembered. It’s just a soft blur that prequels his soft bed, his soft kisses, his soft pets. 

 Seo-joon is being gentler than he was at the club. 

 Under the hazy hue of the club lights, the strong hands that tugged at the straps of your dress were confident, cunning, audacious, and assertive. Boldly expectant of the outcome he was so sure he would get. 

 Under his sheets, those same hands are… not exactly timid, but ginger with their eagerness. Delicate, imploring, coy, and suggestive; tactfully encouraging, rather than expecting, the outcome that he hopes for. The way his hips brush against yours is unhurried and intentional. The crass, dirty movements from before that were careless and unrefined are long gone. Now he’s patient. Grinding into you slowly, deliberate.

 However, the change in pace, in the scenery, and in his demeanor– none of it makes the kisses taste any sweeter; none of it makes the touches feel any better; none of it makes anything good enough in the effortless way you long for. 

 It’s counterintuitive but the lack of ease, paired with the desire for it, just makes you try harder. Redouble your efforts.

 You press your lips against his in a kiss that’s harder, dig your nails into his shoulders with a grip that’s harder. When you cant your hips up against his just so– you do it harder. He gets a little harder in his pants, and the thoughts in your head get a little harder to ignore. Faking gets harder and pretending does too.

 Seo-joon is smart enough. He’s probably been around enough, too. With experience under his belt, it doesn’t take him long to sense the shift. The way your energy dulls, the slight tension tugging at your frame underneath him. But still, it doesn’t stop him from testing the waters one more time, giving you a few more unsure, assessing kisses. 

 To no avail.

 With furrowed brows, he pulls away. Seo-joon doesn’t look angry, though. Just confused as he braces himself on his forearms, lifting himself just enough to be able to take you in, most of his body weight still resting atop you.

 He clears his throat. “You don’t uh– you don’t really… seem to be– into this? Anymore? Into me?” 

 Your expression probably mirrors his. Confused, and maybe a little lost as you study him. Because he’s handsome. Almost unbelievably so, with his high cheekbones and sharp eyes; his nose and mouth that appear perfectly placed; his smooth, airbrushed skin.

 You should be into him. Superficially at the very least.

 But you just aren’t because even though he is handsome, flawless even, he’s attractive in a very ordinary, classical way. There doesn’t seem to be anything signature about Seo-joon’s features. 

 When he smiled at the club, it was idyllic and exactly symmetrical. His cheeks filled out, but just enough. His teeth –a dentist’s dream– were pristine, perfectly proportioned, and all of them just the right size. So white that they were almost beaming in the dim lights. 

 And even now, when he attempts an uneasy one to shake awkwardness it’s… fine. His plush lips are fine and his straight nose is fine and his even brows are fine and everything about Seo-joon is perfectly fine. 

 But, to you, he’s not really anything special. 

 Surface level, Seo-joon’s perfectly fine. But so are so many other perfectly fine, classically beautiful, ordinary men. There’s nothing that sets him apart. No defining characteristics, nothing about Seo-joon that makes him him. 

 Yet you can’t stop yourself from thinking that even if there were, it wouldn’t matter. 

Because you already know what makes someone special to you. 

 You’re well aware of the distinctive features that make your heart flutter. Like when someone smiles and their bottom lip tugs down just a hint farther on the left side. Or when they get little rounds under their eyes and scrunch their nose when they laugh. When he has things about himself that are slightly imperfect. Like big front teeth or a barely off-center freckle under his bottom lip. Like the deep scar on his cheek that he got from his brother when they were little. Or the faint one by his eyebrow from the piercing he had in college that had to be taken out before it was yanked out by a tiny hand. 

 The man you’re sharing a bed with could be the most uniquely attractive person on earth and it wouldn’t make a difference. It still wouldn’t make him special– not to you. 

 He’s not what you want.

 You hum when you admit it to yourself. 

 “I’m not.”

 Momentarily, Seo-joon looks taken aback by your seemingly rash rethink, but he takes your drunken bluntness in stride. He gives you a forced smile before he hangs his head in an apologetic bow, shifting from on top of you to lay next to you. “I see, I’m sorry if I assumed or overstepped or made you feel like you had to come home with m–”

 Seo-joon sounds guilty, and it surprises you when a hint of guilt starts to bloom in your chest.

 “You didn’t!” you interrupt, “I thought I was into you… or like I should be into you…”

 His eyebrow quirks and he just looks at you.

 “Ah…” you muse awkwardly, scanning the room. 

 It’s so very bachelor. Dark furniture, a big tv mounted on the wall, a little bar cart off to the side next to the mini fridge that’s kinda big to be called ‘mini’. Nothing personal at all that could tell you anything about him, except the boxers on the floor that tells you he prefers Armani. No hint as to what his goals or his hobbies are. 

 Perhaps it's a good thing you didn’t sleep with Seo-joon. Guys like him have the most brutal post-nut clarity and you’re not sure you could take another grown man hurting your feelings. 

 “I just don’t want you to think like– I don’t know? That you did something wrong? Or that you like coerced me into coming h–” 

 “Wait, I didn’t think that–”

 “–I’m the one that should be sorry!” you assure him, “Because I don’t think I actually went out to try and forget someone; I think I was trying to find them?”

 A couple of stilted seconds pass. 

 “In… me?” he asks, like he’s mentally trying to puzzle the pieces together.

 “I guess? Maybe replace them with you? Or like… use you… as a placeholder?” You wince helplessly at your choice of words, unable to stop them before they spill out. 

 Seo-joon’s confusion is replaced by a quick, bright laugh which is followed by a small smile that seems almost pitying. 

 “You’re still young–”

 You physically cannot stop the way you interrupt him with.

 “Please shut the fuck up.”

 The tired words are spat tartly before you can clench your teeth around them. It’s probably a defense mechanism– you’re not quite sure you can handle another grown man being mean to you, but you’re almost very sure that you can’t handle one lecturing you about how young you are, about how much life you still have left to live, about how your youth makes it difficult to know what you really want, about how–

 “Whoa,” he laughs. He’s on his side, his head propped up on his palm. He eyes you for a moment before he tugs the strap of your bra back up, haphazardly covering you again. “Sore spot?” 

 Pulling his sheets up for good measure, you pout. “He was older.”

 Seo-joon makes a noise of understanding. “Older like… older brother’s friends older? Or older like met him at your dad’s work party older?”

 Heat floods the rounds of your cheeks and you look anywhere but at the man next to you. No photos in frames. Not even a dvd collection that could tell you what type of movies he likes.

 “He’s like– dad old,” you murmur, chancing a glance at Seo-joon only to see him pull a queasy-looking face, and then you’re backtracking to defend yourself. “But only like baby-dad old! Not like– teenager-dad old!”

 He looks unconvinced. “How big’s the gap?”

 “7 years?” you try.

 Seo-joon goes from unconvinced to shocked and then to puzzled. “That’s like… nothing? Probably around our gap too?”

 Your hands fly up and you scoff a little as you exasperate, “That’s what I said!”

 He joins in and you both laugh in his bed until the giggles putter out into lazy silence. You’re pulling at a little tuft of lint when he hums.

 “He told you that you were too young?”

 You open your mouth to reply immediately, but then hesitate. 

 Because your age was part of it. Of course, it was, but was it all of it? Was it the root of it?

 “I mean you are; not too young, just… young. But–” Seo-joon grins smugly, giving you a pointed look when he sees you scowl, “–youth isn’t a bad thing. And you’re smart. I meant it when I said that.”

 Rolling your eyes, you say, “We literally just met–”

 “Yeah, and?” he counters, just for the sake of it because he still doesn’t allow a reply. “We only just met and I could already tell that you were smart. Even though I tried, I knew my… methods wouldn’t work on you. You read me like an open book,” he repeats what he said earlier that night, before speaking slowly like he’s spelling something out for you. “and I’m sure I’m not the only one you’re able to read like that?”

 Your scowl intensifies. “What are you getting at?”

 “This boy you’re trying to ‘forget’? ‘Find’?” The hand that’s not supporting him comes up and he makes some air quotes. His tone is a little softer, like maybe he’s trying to be gentle. Or maybe he’s just tired of talking to you. You can’t be sure.

 “I feel like you’re smart enough to know if the whole thing is worth it or not. How long ago was it?”

 “A month or 2… give or take 17 days…” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

 “Okay. But yeah… that’s a good chunk of time…” he says around a quick yawn. Then he hums thoughtfully to himself. “I feel like you could think back and read the situation a bit more clearly now? Like, reassess it to… you know… I don’t know just figure stuff out…”

 “‘You know, I don’t know’, ‘Just figure stuff out’, ” you mimic dryly, “That’s all the advice you have to offer me when you’ve lived lifetimes longer than me?”

 “Listen, you can’t hate all men because of one man–”

 “Yes, I ca–”

 “Okay but, you don’t even hate that one man? That’s the whole issue?” Seo-joon interrupts. He lilts his tone up in an inquisitive manner, like he wants you to confirm. 

 You refuse and choose to reply with petulant silence.

 “Exactly. C’mon, use that big, smart brain in that pretty, little head of yours,” he encourages, “Look back and just figure stuff out. It might be hard, but not as hard as you think. I feel like time away from what we think we need or want, always puts things into perspective. Distance makes the heart fonder, or–” He pauses for dramatic effect. “It makes the heart indifferent.”

 Not rolling your eyes is a feat, but you manage. “Clearly my heart did not become indifferent if I am laid up with you and still going on about it.”

 Seo-joon hums again, carries on some more. But you’re not paying attention because maybe time didn’t put things into perspective, but his words just did.

 Distance and time make the heart indifferent.

 Jeongguk hasn’t been to your store once since you left his house. 

 You frown, connecting imaginary dots as a little wrinkle sprouts between your brows. “He hasn’t come to see me since he cut things off.”

 Seo-joon pauses mid-sentence, mimes your expression. “Did you expect him to?”

 You pause now. 

 “Um… kinda?” you start. Rolling to your side you copy his position so you can look at him. “I mean, I work at the grocery store he would normally shop at,” you explain, before tacking on, “That’s where we met. He lost his baby and I found her… Or– she found me I guess.”

 A small twinge of pain pricks your heart at the mention of Nari. You wonder if she’s talking, or if she’s at least getting closer. If she still doesn’t keep the sock on her left foot, or if she’s grown out of that nerve-wracking yet endearing little habit of hers. 

 What Dasom said about Nari getting attached comes to mind and you hope the little one is doing well. It hurts a little to think about, but you hope for her sake, that she didn’t get too attached or too sad when you stopped coming around. You hope she forgot you quickly.

 “Anyway,” you say, “Guess that means his heart became indifferent.”

 Giving a half-hearted shrug with a single shoulder, aiming to come off unbothered. Trying to act indifferent yourself, and like your heart didn’t just drop. You blink a couple of times in an attempt to clear the glassiness you know is cloaking your eyes and offer a weak smile.

 Regarding you with a slightly concerned color to his features, Seo-joon chooses to not address the passing mention of a misplaced child or the fact that you’re very close to crying while half-naked in his bed. Decidedly, he says, “I’m not sure if I would call avoidance indifference.”

 You sniffle. “Huh?”

 His eyes narrow and he looks like he’s debating something internally. Then he sighs. “Listen, I’m not trying to encourage you to wait for him or go back to him. Or like… give you false hope–”

 “Gee, thanks–”

 “No really,” he stresses, “because that genuinely could be nothing. Men are a bit dense. They do things that may seem calculated, but in actuality, they’re just daft and it didn’t even cross their mind. But in my opinion,” he continues slowly, a bit hesitantly, “Choosing to not go to the grocery store he –I’m assuming– frequented regularly? Right after a breakup?” He sucks a bit of air in through his teeth before he shakes his head. “Yeah, that seems like a very deliberate choice.”

 “Like indifference would be more–” he continues before pausing briefly to choose the right words, “I picture indifference as more of– him still going to your work, despite the breakup, because he just doesn’t give a fuck.”

 Whatever words you were planning to say get caught in your throat and you cough out a short laugh at Seo-joon’s straightforwardness. 

 He grins a little. “Right? Because that’s what it is– a lack of interest, lack of concern. Like he just doesn’t care one way or the other about you being there because you’re not important enough for him to be affected by you.”

 You know he’s speaking in hypotheticals, but it still sours your expression. Makes your lips pull down at the corners.

 “Personally, if I were him and I was truly indifferent, truly unbothered,” he places his hand on his bare chest, “you being there or not being there wouldn’t be significant enough for me to alter my routine.”

 Your eyes flit quickly over Seo-joon’s torso. His gesture causes the sheet to fall slightly, pooling at the subtle curve of his waist. There’s a faint warmth flooding your cheeks as you swiftly and intently bring your gaze back up. 

 You swallow before replying with a simple, “Ah… yes… that makes perfect sense.”

 Playfully, Seo-joon scowls at you. “You sure you don’t want to fuck?”

 “Yup.”

 “It may help–”

 “Nope, don’t think it will actually.”

 He shrugs, an amused grin still lingering. “Suit yourself–”

 “I feel like your post-nut clarity would hurt my feelings and I’m vulnerable right now.”

 It’s silent for 1, 2, 3 seconds before Seo-joon’s loud laughter echoes in his room. Failing to keep a straight face, he rolls on his back and rests his head on his pillow as he lets himself laugh to his heart’s content. Then he inhales deeply and scrubs a hand over his face and swipes a finger beneath his bottom lashes; catching his breath and regaining his composure and wiping away the wetness under his eyes. 

 A few seconds pass before he’s turning his head to look at you with a quiet smile. It feels a bit too tender, too sincere, and too heartfelt, for what was supposed to be a one-night-stand. 

 “See,” he says softly, “told you you were smart.”

 You just look at him, trying to read him like he’s so sure you can. There doesn’t seem to be any ulterior motives, just him being genuinely kind to you because he wants to be. And for some reason that makes your eyes burn.

 “If it doesn’t hurt too badly to revisit everything that went on with the boy,” Seo-joon begins, interrupting the light hush that settled between the two of you, “I really feel like you’ll be able to see things clearer; read the situation better. Figure stuff out. And then, things will start to fall into place for you. Everything will start to make a little more sense. You’ll know if you’re wasting your time being hung up on him, and if it’s worth your happiness. You’ll know if looking for him is worth the effort, and you’ll be sure that ‘finding’ him is actually what you want after all.”

 You’re definitely going to cry.

 “And when I said you were still young, and that your youth wasn’t a bad thing,” he continues, “I meant that if you decide that you do want to look for him, and you do find him again– you still have enough time to try with him again.”

 With a wobbly bottom lip, you feel your features slowly morph into a scowl.

 It’s self-directed because it’s then that you think about what’s happening and how ridiculous it all seems.

 Because why are you on the tail end of being drunk, half-naked in the bed of a grown man who you met just hours ago? Why are you telling him bits and pieces about the person he was supposed to distract you from? The person that caused you the most delicately painful ache that’s been festering for months? Why are letting this man give you advice? Why are you letting him comfort you? And why does it feel like he’s done a better job of it by just listening to you for the last few hours, than friends you’ve had for years? 

 And why do you feel like you’re going to cry about it?

 The self-directed scowl morphs to a Seo-joon-directed glare.

 “He’s not a boy,” you begin in a voice that shakes just a hint, arguing just to be difficult, “he’s a man with the cutest baby and he’s 30 now and–” The urge to cry cuts you off and you feel the first tear leak from the corner of your eye. 

 Seo-joon’s soft, sincere smile turns slightly sad as he tracks the salty drop. “Hey, don’t cry–”

 “Shut-up,” you spout, your tone somewhere in between short and like you’re begging him to be quiet because it was him speaking that brought you to this state in the first place. 

 A short staring contest ensues.

 “Also– I bet you would’ve been the worst fucking one-night stand,” you add on for good measure. 

 Seo-joon’s ability to keep from laughing is impressive. It’s only for a second that an amused smile overtakes his features– a natural reflex he isn’t able to stop. But it’s barely there at all before he’s schooling his features into something that he hopes looks receptive, like he’s taking in what you’re saying, absorbing it like it’s Gospel. 

 But he’s also a curious motherfucker, and he wants to know why you think that. 

 “That is baseless and an unfounded assumption,” he defends himself, because he may be receptive, but he is also a damn good one-night stand. “With that being said, please tell me why you feel that way.”

 “Because I’m crying! And it’s because of you! You and your making of us bare our fucking souls during pillowtalk! Who does that?!” 

 It’s huffy and snippy and you both know you’re being mean just for the sake of it. 

 With lips pressed into a tight, smile-proof line, Seo-joon nods easily; agreeable and understanding.

 He knows you’re fragile and that you’re tired– so he chooses not to voice how he considers what you talked about very surface level. How he thinks you may be more hurt and affected by whatever took place between you and this guy than you even realize yet. How he feels like you still have so much to work through, so much to learn.

 Seo-joon lets you win and reminds himself that, right now, it’s not his job to help you soothe the things that hurt or fix the things that are broken. Reminds himself that you’re smart enough to figure stuff out on your own.  

 There’s a brief lull in the conversation that’s not as awkward or tense as it probably should be.

 You sniffle. Then you hiccup.

 And Seo-joon laughs, loud and brash and fond as he leans towards you. He gives you what feels like a platonic kiss on your forehead. 

 “Can I get your number?”

 ~~~

 It’s an early Thursday morning in late January and Jeongguk is feeling troubled. Plagued, if you will, as he towels off after his morning shower. Plagued with the ever-growing, ever-evolving urge to check up on you. To see how you’re doing.

 Lurking, as Taehyung calls it, doesn’t happen all that often. Jeongguk makes a point to not let himself do it daily. Or even weekly. It was his New Year’s resolution, in fact. That being said, it’s been exactly 12 days since he’s used his friend’s 8-year-old son’s instagram account to see what you’ve been up to.

 Typically, he can talk himself out of the sudden notion. Put it off until he forgets, or just doesn’t feel he needs to so badly anymore. Currently, however, he’s blaming his inability to nix the restlessness in his fingertips on the fact that he hasn’t had Nari around to keep him busy. It’s been a long week.

 Because Jeonggk’s been doing his best to keep himself from opening your page for what feels like days. Resisting the pesky pull even though he doubts you’ve even posted. Out of the times he’s given in over the last few weeks, he thinks you’ve posted maybe once. And it was just a picture of some clouds at that– vaguely heart-shaped, wispy, white puffs against sky-blue. The caption was just two emojis, the wind-face lady next to the white heart. 

 So frankly, even though he’s not exactly keen on how strong and itchy the urge to check on you is– he’s also not exactly sure why he’s fighting it. Not when merely scratching it isn’t going to change anything. 

 After shrugging on his work blazer, Jeongguk admits defeat– his inner demons having won yet again. He resigns to apathetic, easily accepted complacency as he swipes through the pages on his home screen till he gets to the very last one that houses the small, sunset-colored camera app. He figures he should probably just get it over with.  

 As he touches the application open, Jeongguk reasons that he’s just been putting off the inevitable– that he knows an itch can’t be ignored and that it won’t be quelled until it’s scratched or soothed. Tells himself that a quick peek before heading out for work won’t matter.

 As he clicks on the mini magnifying glass at the bottom of the screen, Jeongguk reminds himself of lurking’s insignificance. Thinks back to all the times he’s done it before and how it never made a difference. 

 As he sorts through the random selection of 8-year-old boy searches till he finds your user in the mix, he reassures himself that checking on you won’t do anything but alleviate the nagging in the back of his head and the tingling in his fingertips. 

 As he taps your profile, he convinces himself that lurking will be relieving and nothing more.

 As Jeongguk sees that you have posted, he realizes that this time, lurking does matter and that he is so very stupid for assuming it would bring him relief.

 The picture is blurry, not unlike a handful of others he’s seen on your feed. 

 But the setting captured is new. The pink-tinted lighting isn’t familiar, and neither is the purple and blue hues. The crowd you captured is much more… abundant than what he’s become accustomed to seeing when he pulls up your page. 

 Jeongguk scans the photo for just a bit longer and then swipes to the next one in the post. This one is the final stupid nail in the coffin of Jeongguk’s stupid demise. The couple shot glasses grouped together in blurry cheers are all the confirmation he needs to know exactly where you were. His eyes flick to your caption, and then his features pull into a pensive frown with furrowed brows.

 BUT FOUR DRINKS IM WASTED !! 

 Jeongguk taps open the comments.

 flickthebinna: you’ve had exactly two (2) shots

ocstagram: i am Wasted !! 🤬

jadedjade: can u let her be wasted and focus on getting our drinks @flickthebinna 🤨

 He can’t help but chuckle at your and your friends’ interactions, but as he closes the app he catches himself doing a certain habit of his. The little tick where he tilts his head and juts his jaw out quickly. His telltale sign of irritation.

 Irritated with himself, of course. Partly because of the obvious. The spying (from a child’s social media account nonetheless), the moping that he’s been doing for months, the procrastinating and avoiding that’s been going on for almost just as long. 

 But also because he feels so embarrassingly immature for allowing what he finds out from the spying to affect him so deeply. It seems so very juvenile to get this worked up over an instagram post. 

 He’s irritated at the emotional rush and the way his hands are shaking. At the way his mind is jumping to conclusions and conjuring up all sorts of sour scenarios. He’s irritated with himself for the way unwarranted jealousy burns in his chest. 

 The irritation stews; sits in the passenger seat as he makes the drive to work– right next to the sudden instinct to act on a restless whim. The irritation festers; accompanies the worsening impulsive urge that makes it hard to think and ultimately pushes him to make a wrong turn. 

 The irritation is only sated when he pulls up to a curb and his car comes to a stop. 

 Jeongguk’s irritated with himself for a lot of things. But mostly because it took him so long to get here.

 ~~~

 He’s not sure why he anticipated you answering the door. Karma wouldn’t be so kind, and he wouldn’t be so lucky. Obviously.

 “And why the fuck are you here?” This is how Binna greets him, after taking him in with a groggy, borderline bored stare. 

 With a wince, Jeongguk tries, “Hi Binna–”

 “Don’t you have a job?” she interrupts, the volume of her tone increasing with every word. “Aren’t you so busy? So busy, in fact, that it’s so hard to find the time for–”

 He opens his mouth to try and get a word in but stops abruptly. So does Binna when she feels a soft hand on her shoulder, and hears a grumpy ‘Why are you being so loud?’.

 Right in front of him, you’re still half-asleep. Drowsily using the sleeve of the oversized sweatshirt you’re wearing to rub over your face tiredly. Seeing as he decided to show up at a little past 8 in the morning.  

 After a few slow, dreamy blinks, you direct your attention to Jeongguk and he feels like he can’t breathe.

 It’s unconscious, how his lips turn up a smidge when he really sees you for the first time in what feels like forever. When he sees the warmth that lives inside of you color your skin with the softest, natural flush. 

 Jeongguk is still so jealous. 

 He watches you and he studies you. Now that he’s not relying on his memories or the pictures in his camera roll or the ones on your socials– he’s trying to pick out what’s the still same; how you’ve changed. Your hair is a bit longer, a shade or two darker as well. Maybe it’s the big hoodie you’ve got on, but you look smaller than he remembers. In his chest, he feels his heart tug but he can’t dwell on it too much as he refocuses on your features beginning to stir. 

 They shift from dazedly blank to shocked, as if your still-sleepy brain has just now registered him being there, and the smallest gasp sounds from your lips. Then an expression that’s a cross between confused and angry takes the place of prior surprise. The doe-ish look becomes sharp and stern; your narrowed eyes are framed above by scrunched brows and below by shadowy circles. Your mouth goes from slack with your plush lips barely parted, to pouty and pursed in a deep frown.

 Jeongguk knows he should say something. 

 Explain. 

 Say sorry. 

 Ask for forgiveness. 

 But he feels mute, like his heart is stuck in his throat. Like he can’t do anything but stand there and hope you show him a little bit of undeserved grace. That you give him a moment, and then another, to get himself together. Even though he’s had too many moments already to do exactly that.

 In the few seconds that go by you shoo your roommate, and after she’s gone, your face changes once again. Softening just enough to not be so harsh. You stand in your doorway as he flounders and you watch with intent, almost curious, anticipation. And Jeongguk doesn’t want to be too optimistic– but he thinks there might be a hint of relief, an inkling of eager, hopeful expectation hiding in the way you’re looking at him. 

 As if you’ve been waiting for him; wanting him– and now he’s finally here; almost yours. 

 He’s so caught up in that –the minute chance of reconciliation that he only thinks he caught a glimpse of– that he doesn’t get out of his head until the movement of your shoulders slumping, and your chest deflating rips him out of it. 

 Jeongguk would prefer the air your demeanor carried just moments ago. The quiet, masked hopefulness you gave off before you made yourself smaller and breathed that tiny, dejected sigh. God, he would even take the calloused, puzzled hostility you had when you first realized it was him in standing in your doorway. Anything over how you look currently.

 Definitely disappointed, maybe a little bit embarrassed, and just so sad. 

 It’s what he expected, at least to some extent. He’s foolish, but he can only fool himself so much. There’s a limit on how many fantasies of effortless forgiveness he can have before he has to face reality. 

 Jeongguk knew you would be sad, and he knew you would be disappointed. He was ready to take responsibility for the role he played because he was so sure that it would be his fault.

 But what makes how you’re looking at him right now so awful, so unbearable– is that you’re looking at him like it has nothing to do with him. 

 You don’t look disappointed in him. You don’t look sad because of him. 

 It looks internal, so personal. 

 Like you’re sad because you naively allowed yourself to hope– let it glimmer, shining so obvious in your eyes. Only for the brightness to dim, snuffed out by the foolishness that so often goes hand in hand with naivety. 

 Like you’re sad because as soon as you saw him, you had expectations– preconceived notions about how it would go when he came back, how he would act. Only to learn that with enough preconceived notions, you can turn expectations into daydreams.

 Maybe that’s why you look a little embarrassed, too. Because you so quickly let yourself hope, like a child who hasn’t learned from their mistakes. Because you immediately conjured up expectation-disguised daydreams of Jeongguk. Still, after all this time. After everything he’s done, you still expected good from him. 

 You look like you’re disappointed in yourself, not him, because you should have known better.

 He doesn’t find his voice until you’re shaking your head like he’s let you down. Until you’re turning away from him and edging the door closed.

 “I’m sorry!”

 Jeongguk blurts the words out, and he didn’t say much but his chest is heaving and he’s got this frantic way about him and a panicky feeling flooding his veins. When you look up, surprise flashes across your face, but it’s gone in an instant and is replaced by incredulous anger. Like you can’t believe him. 

 Despite your trying to stand your ground and hold his gaze, a gleam still shines in your eyes.

 “I am,” he assures breathlessly, his eyes darting across your face, “I’m so sorry, ___. And–”

 When Jeongguk tells you he misses you, he notices how you almost flinch. How your eyes snap shut tightly ���like you can feel his words, but still aren’t sure if they’re real or if they’re true; like you’re scared of finding out– and the heavy tears pooling on your lashline finally spill over. 

 As the salty droplets drip down the apples of your cheeks, Jeongguk feels an ache that hurts so badly that it’s visceral. Like if he could crack open his chest, he could get a hand on the it and just rip the pain out and make it go away. If only that was the case. 

 “I–” you start, but your voice gives out. You clear your throat with a small cough, and talk to the ground because it’s easier to talk to than him. “Maybe we’re better like this, Gguk.”

 Jeongguk’s heart drops, and it’s a struggle to get out even just a whispered a plea of your name.

 When you speak up this time, you force your eyes to meet his. Your brows are upturned and your bottom lip quivers for just a second before you take a deep, self-soothing, breath and school your features into a facade of indifference and resolve. 

 “I hope Nari’s been okay. And you. I hope you’ve been okay, too.”

 Jeongguk’s brows furrow. He’s confused but gives you an unsteady nod. “She– she’s good, yeah.”

 You scan his face, trying to keep your own expression neutral. But how he only mentions Nari and not himself doesn’t evade you. A faint heartache murmurs in your chest, but you mimic his nod. “That’s good. I’m glad–”

 “What about you? Have you been okay?”

 Jeongguk’s words come out overhasty and too eager. But after such a long time of replaying old dialogues in his head– talking to you just feels so nice. He doesn’t want to stop, even if the conversation feels stilted and trivial. He’s still going to hang on to every little marginal thing you say, and he’s still going to do his best to keep the empty words flowing between you.

 He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath while he awaits your answer. Not until he hears you say, “Yeah, I’m happy, I think” and the air inside his lungs vacates. Making room for a thick cloud of melancholy that isn’t surprising, but still makes it hard to breathe all the same. 

 Guilt mingles with the suffocating hurt because you being happy shouldn’t make him sad.  

 But then you smile and Jeongguk responds with a frown and a skeptical shake of his head. 

 Because the smile– it’s so fake, so unconvincingly artificial and staged that when it turns your eyes to half moons and causes their corners to crinkle– it also forces a fresh wave of tears to tumble down your cry-flushed cheeks. 

 He doesn’t believe you, but that’s no surprise. You’ve never been a good liar.

 A dim, defeated laugh putters from your lips. Trying to portray nonchalance, you give him a weak, half-hearted shrug, like you know you’ve been caught but it can’t be helped.

 He knows it hurts you to dismiss him. He can hear it in your shaky, wispy tone when you say, “Take care, Gguk.”

 Take care Gguk.

 Jeongguk knows it’s a ‘goodbye’. A goodbye that he’s having trouble processing. 

  It feels like a lifetime, but really it’s only a few seconds that Jeongguk stands there trying to make sense of your words. It’s only a few more before the door closes on him. 

 Jeongguk couldn’t process the goodbye, but the telltale click of the door locking somehow makes perfect sense.

 ~~~

 Like you are the starlet of your very own coming of age, lifetime, hallmark romance drama– you don’t let yourself cry until your back is pressed against the closed door. Then you cover your mouth to keep quiet as you slide down the wood.

 The moment is short-lived. 

 “Where’s Jeongguk?”

 The voice seemingly comes from nowhere, and you jump slightly before swearing and directing your puffy, bloodshot eyes at your roommates. They both have their head peeking out from behind the kitchen wall. Nosy.

 “What do you mean ‘where’s Jeongguk?’” you groan, knocking your head back against the wood.

 Binna and Jade exchange a look. 

 “Are you guys like… not gonna… talk?”

 You slow blink at them a single time.

 An awkward quiet permeates the pumpkin-spice-scented air of your shared home. It’s not even Fall anymore. 

 “Well,” Binna starts, and then cuts herself off like she spoke before she knew what she wanted to say. She elbows your other housemate. “Jade?”

 Jade gives you an instinctive, reactionary smile that’s far too big. “I mean… communication is key… right? And that’s mainly what was lacking before? Talking now could give you the oppurtunity to say all the things you’ve been wanting to. And maybe he can explain his side–”

 Binna raises a hand to cut her off, “Too much credit, he is still a man.”

 “Fair but–”

 The two bicker for a bit before looking at you again.

 “Wait, did you not want to work things out?” 

 You roll your eyes. “Of course I wanted to.”

 “Of course you did,” Jade agrees easily. 

 “Of course you did,” Binna mimics before groaning and asking, “So why the hell is he not here, and why the hell are you not talking and ‘working things out’?” 

 Crossing your arms, your posture becomes defensive. “Wouldn’t that be too easy? Like he shows up at my door after all these months of virtual silence and I just let him in? Aren’t I supposed to make him grovel and cry and beg?” 

 “You have to let the man speak for him to be able to grovel and cry and beg, I’m afraid…” Binna informs.

 The narrowing of your eyes is the simple response she gets. Only because Jade speaks up before you can.

 “You know…” Jades starts, then ponders momentarily. “If it was you that showed up at his house out of the blue at 8 in the morning on a weekday? Then yeah,” she nods to herself, “I would say that it was too easy for him. But he came back to you. And just talking to him?” she shakes her head, “That’s not forgiving him. He still has a lot of work to do– and you should make him prove himself. Prove that he’s grown and changed,” Jade says before she gives you a gentle smile. “But him knocking on the door was also him taking the first step.”

 He came back to you.

 It’s what you wanted. But now that it’s happening, you have no clue what to do next. 

 You don’t know what to say. Are you supposed to lie and tell him you’re thankful that he pushed you away; that it helped you realize that he was right? That you are too young? That you’re happier without him, better off being free like he wanted you to be? 

 Or do you tell him the truth? Do you tell him about how hard it was without him? About how painful it was to go from having so much of him, all of the time– to not having none of him at all, ever? Do you come clean about how hollow and lost being alone made you feel? Do you tell him about how much it hurt every time you thought about how all it took was a few words from his ex– and you were gone; cut out so easily and carelessly? Do you admit that it still hurts to remember?

 You don’t know what to do. Do you resist the fight you’re expected to make him put up? Or do you not fight it much at all and welcome him with a second chance and a fresh start? Do you pretend like you didn’t miss him? Like you didn’t fantasize about him coming back? That you didn’t look for pieces of him everywhere you went; in everybody you met? 

 You don’t know how to feel. Happy because he came to you? Sad that it took so long? Scared because him coming back is just another chance for him to leave again?

 You were already crying, but the trickle of tears grows steadier. The sleeve of your sweatshirt is swiped angrily at your eyes, the light grey material dampened a few shades darker. 

 “Bro,” you cry, “I can’t even look at him without crying, I’m not gonna be able to talk to him. It hurts too bad.”

 Jade looks down at you, gives you a pity pout. “If it’s any consolation, I think he will cry too.”

 Binna agrees with a sympathetic nod of her head. “He’s probably hurting just like you, but it’s what he deserves.

 “___,” Jades speaks up again, “It doesn’t have to be so– painstaking. Like you don’t have to drive yourself mad thinking about what you should do. Just do what you want to do. If you want to talk to him, then talk to him.” She shrugs like it’s really that simple.

 And maybe it is. 

 ~~~

 It definitely isn’t.

 Because if it was, you would not have opened with, quote, ‘I let you put your finger in my ass’, unquote. 

 And Jeongguk wouldn’t have replied with a slow, painfully dumb sounding: ‘I– yes… I remember…?’

 You don’t even really know how it happened. 

 One second you’re hit with a burst of inspired adrenaline and then the next you’re knocking the wind out of both you and Jeongguk by barreling into his chest. The collision must have knocked the sense out of you, too. It’s the only explanation for your behavior. 

 All the same, the blame can’t be entirely yours– Jeongguk has to take some of it. He was standing directly outside of your door, after all. He claims he was working up the courage to knock again but that’s beside the point.

 You keep your thoughts to yourself, as you pretend not to catch the way that he rolls his lips between his teeth to keep a smile off his face when you lead him into your room and slyly try to kick a few things under your bed. A stuffed animal, a bra. A few too many socks.

 It’s a stupid attempt to make your space look a little more tidy and less like you’ve been rotting in it for the last few months. The room’s not too messy by any means; definitely not unkempt enough for you to feel embarrassed or like you need to straighten it up to impress him. But you hope he chalks it up to your nerves getting the best of you.

 He’s nervous, too. If how awkward he’s being is anything to go by. 

 Just standing at the foot of your bed with his hands in his pockets while you situate yourself in front of your headboard. He doesn’t take a seat until you pat the mattress a little, letting him know it’s okay and that you want him to. 

 There’s a quiet hush that fills the space. It’s slightly tense, but it’s not entirely uncomfortable; stilted but somehow familiar. 

 You’re sitting with one leg dangling and a pillow in your lap. It’s hugged to your chest. Perhaps a make-shift shield to put something between you and Jeongguk. Fiddling with a loose pillowcase string helps you avoid eye contact by making you look occupied.

 Jeongguk’s sat before you, stiff and looking down at the floor between his feet. Similarly evading your gaze just like you’re doing with his. He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, rubbing his palms restlessly over the material of his slacks. 

 Thinking back, Jeongguk feels like he did so much of the talking that night in his living room. Probably too much, if he’s being honest. He feels he never really gave you the time to say your side or a proper chance to explain yourself. 

 So this time, he wants to let you do most of the talking. Let you be the one to initiate, at the very least. He wants to give you all the time you need to start the discussion how and when you want, with what you want and feel has precedence.

 Jeongguk stays patient right up until you say in a huff, “Well say something, I’m obviously not good at this.”

 His lips twitch at your stubborn, slightly irritated tone. 

 “You’re the one that showed up at my house when I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be at work, so,” you wave your hand at him, indicating you want him to get on with it. “Must have something important to say.”  

 The small laugh he allows himself is barely a chuckle, but it tumbles from his lips before he can stop it. Blames it on instinct and the simple fact that he just misses you. 

 “It is important,” he confirms, giving into your bait and starting the conversation for you. He considers staying quiet, getting another little reaction out of you, but he reminds himself that this isn’t the time for that. If he plays his cards right, maybe then he’ll be able to joke with you. But as of now, that’s not his place anymore.

 Shifting to face you a little more, so that when he says, “I wanted to apologize to you, ___,” you have his full attention.

 When he speaks, you don’t look at him. Instead, you only give him the faintest nod with your eyes cast down. Still fixed on the pillow in your lap. But Jeongguk notices how your lashes flutter quickly before you press your eyelids together tightly; just like you did earlier when he said that he missed you. 

 Your shoulders lift when you take a deep inhale, and your face is more or less neutral when your eyes meet his. 

 “It’s been months,” you tell him. 

 As if he doesn’t know. As if he hasn’t been driving himself mad day in and day out trying to muster up the courage to do precisely this; as if time doing what time does hasn’t been the bane of his existence. Because with each passing day, he knew he was that much closer to going from ‘it’s been so long’ to ‘it’s been too long’. He’s all too aware of just how long it’s been. 

 Regardless, he doesn’t want to give you excuses; choosing to be easily agreeable. He offers a small tilt of his head as acknowledgment. 

 “Why now?” you question him.

 Jeongguk tries to keep the sadness off of his face when he hears how you sound. 

 The tone of your voice is unsure; hurt. But the pain is elusive. Only heard when your subtle heartache peeks through the veil of composure you’re trying to hide behind.

 While he racks his mind for a worthy explanation, his eyes scan yours. Overflowing with so many different emotions and so expressive just like he remembers. 

 “I wish–” he begins, “I wish that I could tell you that I’ve been working toward this for ages and that I thought through all the steps and knew exactly what I wanted to say to you…” He gives a small self-deprecating chuckle, “But I can’t tell you that. After earlier, it’s clear that I didn’t have any idea or plan,” he offers you his bared palms. “I wish I had a good reason for ‘why now’, but I don’t.”

 Your brows furrow with affronted confusion. Jeongguk speaks up before you can.

 “That’s not to say that I haven’t been thinking about this since you left–”

 “I didn’t leave, you got rid of me–”

 The correction is hissed before you snap your mouth shut like you didn’t mean to say it. But you don’t take the words back and Jeongguk can’t control his expression this time. His face falls and he sighs as he looks down at the pattern on his pants. 

 “I’ve been thinking about this since I told you to leave,” he tries again, slowly. When you don’t comment again after a small pause, he continues, “but I wasn’t actively figuring out how to do it. I’ve come to learn that plans are essentially useless, so planning out what to say to you seemed pointless. In hindsight, it just made me look stupid,” he muses.

 “Honestly, having you on a constant loop in my mind wasn’t intentional; I didn’t want that,” Jeongguk admits. But he doesn’t even chance a glance, not keen to see your worsening scowl. “Remembering you just made me so miserable? Like, thinking about you all the time made me miss you all the time. And missing you made me so fucking sad– like the kind of sad you can feel? Like it hurt to think about you. But you never left my head, so the hurt never went away…”

 Jeongguk’s words slowly come to halt, his cheeks reddening to a bright cherry when he realizes that he’s rambling. As he’s mentally trying to dull his blush to something more faint and less conspicuous, he notes that your expression changed. You still look a bit angry, but now, there’s a pastel hue. A soft, muted sadness toning down the harshness. 

 He stumbles a little when he says, “I– Truthfully– I guess the–” Then he takes a quick, staccato breath mid-sentence to get himself together. “I guess the most truthful explanation for why I took so long is… avoidance? And guilt? Fear?” 

 When he frustratedly combs a hand through his hair, he pretends not to notice how it’s shaking. And he’s grateful that you don’t mention it when you track his movement. 

 The conversation gets stuck in a momentary limbo while Jeongguk thinks about what he said. It’s the truth. He was scared before– it’s what got him in this mess and it’s what kept him away for weeks too long. But he’s still scared. Despite getting the most intimidating part over with –actually coming to you after finally working up the nerve to– the fear of fucking up still hasn’t waned. 

 He’s still just as scared as he was. 

 Scared of saying the wrong thing. Of not being able to put what he feels into the right words. Of not being able to convey how truly fucking sorry he is for hurting you, how much he regrets it. He’s scared of hurting you again. Scared of you not forgiving him for the first time he did. 

 He is still just as scared of lying in the bed that he made.

 Jeongguk digs his fingertips into his thighs and his nails are dull, but he does it hard enough for a minute pang of discomfort to still be felt. He makes himself puff out a lame chuckle. It sounds strained and resembles a scoff more than anything, but he’s trying to lighten the mood; make the air in the room lighter and easier to breathe. 

 “I’m sorry,” he says on the tail end of the scoffing chuckle, shaking his head lightly. His voice has a light waver, shaky due to his nerves. “I– I’m just–”

 When he feels your small hand settle over the one he has working into his leg, his head whips up quickly and a reactive reflex almost has him pulling his hand away.

 But he stops himself before, and he’s so happy he does. Because when the initial shock wears off, your touch feels good. Familiar and comforting. He’s happy he catches himself because your touch feels nice and when he looks up from it, he gets to see you. 

 It’s like you stopped hiding and came out from behind that veil. Or maybe it’s an accident and you just forgot to keep it up. Either way, it doesn’t matter because he gets to see you watching him so artlessly, so openly honest. With a look that feels like a reminder. 

 A reminder that your heart has always been so soft, so sweet– that it still is. Softer than the hand you have settled gently over his and sweeter than its touch when you coax his own into being gentle, too, but with himself. A reminder that you’ve always been soft, sweet– that you still are. You look at him –softly; sweetly– like you’re reminding him that you’re still you. 

 It makes his eyes water and he has to look away. The thin, pinstripes on his slacks blur together, blending into thick lines as unshed tears muddle his vision.

 “It’s okay, you can–” he hears you tell him, starting hushedly. You sound hesitant, like you’re not sure if you want to finish. “I… want to know what you’re trying to say. So– you can take your time... I’ll wait for you.” 

 And if someone asked Jeongguk to describe the ache that fills his chest at your words– he would tell them that it hurts like he imagines the kindest, most tender, undeserved compassion would.

 “It took me so long because I was a coward, ___,” he says quietly. But the word is spat from his mouth like something foul. “I was so scared of feeling the hurt and facing the guilt that came when I thought about you; what I did to you–” Shame runs through his veins and he shakes his head at how spineless he was– unable to face the consequences of his own actions. It’s humiliating to remember. 

 He’s still talking down to his lap when he admits, “I– just avoided it altogether. I was so busy trying to keep it away that I didn’t give much thought to owning up to everything. I didn’t even know where to begin or how to go about fixing things with you.” 

 Jeongguk’s not crying yet. With that being said, his vision is still bleary and his eyes are red-rimmed from fighting the stubborn tears. He turns the hand he still has underneath yours palm-up. Covers yours with his other on top. Your tiny hand sandwiched between his big ones. He tilts his head back, blinks the wet in his eyes away.

 “I wanted to so badly, though,” he tells you, bringing himself to look at you, “To fix things with you. To just try with you. It took me way too long to understand something that should have been common sense: That things don’t always happen the way you plan for them to; That pieces don’t just fall into place just because you want them to. If I want something… It takes effort to make it happen. I have to work for it and try my best to put the pieces where they belong.”

 Jeongguk gives you a small smile and your hand a little squeeze. “I needed someone’s help to figure some things out,” he rolls his eyes playfully, almost fondly exasperated by the memory. “Like how to start altering the way I think and how to stop with all the wallowing and self-commiseration. How to stomach self-reflection. But when it finally clicked and I really got it? Fixing things with you was the only thing I wanted to do.” 

 There’s a tiny flicker of something coming back. A sanguine glimmer replaces the chagrin in Jeongguk’s eyes and you try to mirror it, reflect it back to him. Because the things he’s saying all sound so good. Perfect and promising and like everything you could have hoped for. 

 But when he says the thing about needing someone’s help? Anything he said before gets repressed. Unclear and hard to recall, as if his words are stuck inside a wayward memory. Anything he says after is indistinct. Muffled and hard to hear, as if there’s water stuck inside your ears. Similar to the rot that’s stuck inside your heart; ugly and hard to get rid of. 

 Such a gross, sickly feeling suddenly comes over you. 

 It takes so much effort to swallow it down. The green-washed insecurity that’s wanting to crawl up your throat and out your mouth. Masquerading as untrusting accusations that will make you seem paranoid. Heartsick questions that will leave you too vulnerable. 

 Who was it? Was it her? Was Dasom the one who helped you?

 Of course, she’s going to be a sore spot and you know that. But the thoughts fluster you and catch you a little off guard because it’s not like you to think like that. 

 It’s never been like you to be paranoid. To feel so self-conscious and easily threatened. You’ve never been the type to chastise. To interrogate, or pry. To accuse, or assume. 

 The doubt came from out of nowhere– crept its way into your head during a brief lapse of emotional awareness and into your heart when it erringly opened and was left unguarded. At first, quieting the intrusive thoughts and dispelling the negative feelings was a challenge. But in the end, you managed and it was fleeting and passed quickly.  

 Shaking the residual embarrassment that follows the bad thoughts and emotions, is much more difficult. 

 Unlike the momentary doubt, the sudden flash of insecurity that it comes with is so intense that it lingers, so strong that it fogs your head. It distractingly hangs out in the back of your mind making it hard to focus.

 It takes a few moments longer before you’re able to suppress it and push it down, down, down. Down far enough that you’ll be able to forget about it. At least for a short while, you’ll be able to convince yourself that the feelings won’t come back because it’s just not like you. 

 Wanting to omit it altogether, you gather your composure and fully give Jeongguk your attention again. You give him a small but genuine smile and wiggle your fingers that are still between his hands. 

 He smiles back softly, while you sit quietly. You’re working to piece together the things he said while you were lost in your head, trying to come up with a decent response. 

 “I was scared too,” you reveal quietly, “The whole time I was scared.” 

 “Will you tell me what you were scared of?”

 “There were so many things, Gguk.” You don’t tell him that there still are. Jeongguk nods attentively. You gingerly untangle your hand from his, catching his eyes before looking around your room. 

 “The finger thing was a really bad example,” you begin trying to explain. You shake your head with a sheepish smile, embarrassed and horrified at your past self. “and it wasn’t the actual act. It was more of what it meant that was scary for me? Like the fact that I let you do something that I always swore I would never let anyone do? Ever.”

 Laughing lightly, you think back on all of the times that your friends would make jokes. How they always told you that there would be a time that you would be horny enough to let it happen. The times when they had more class and said it was fine if you never wanted to and never did, but that they still thought you would end up giving in one day. For the right person, you would. 

 But you always remained adamant– so sure that nobody would ever make the act appealing enough, that nobody would ever make you feel comfortable enough with them for you to allow them to touch you like that or see you like that. 

 “But then I met you.”

 Jeongguk’s brows furrow slightly, like he doesn’t quite understand. But he just stays quiet and nods again, waiting for you to continue. And honestly, you can’t blame him. Anal should never be such a serious topic or something that feels like such a pivotal point in a relationship. You certainly wish that it wasn’t. 

 But alas.

 “All it took was a couple of months… Just a few soft touches and some dreamy words and I was putty in your hands.” Your hands that are folded lightly in your lap open up to show your palms before they squeeze shut into tight fists. “I feel like I would’ve done anything for you; anything you asked me to.”

 His features fall, and the expression he wears is laced with so much guilt. “Wait– Did I… make you feel like you had to do certain things?”

 You can’t help but smile at his concern as you shake your head sadly. “No, no… nothing like that– I always wanted to.”

 Jeongguk frowns, not certain of how truthful you’re being.

 Promising him that you’re not lying, you elaborate. “That’s part of why it was scary for me, I think. There was just something about you that made me so…I don’t know, willing? So yours?”

 The admission makes pesky pinpricks of tears sting the backs of your eyes. “And I was. I was so yours the whole time even though you weren’t mine–”

 “I was–” Jeongguk chimes softly. Interrupting, if only for the sake of trying to convince you.

 “Not really,” you argue. The tone you use comes across as somewhat detached. Like you’re just stating a fact. 

 Using the silence that nestles between you as an opportunity to think, you consider what you’re wanting to tell him. How vulnerable you’re willing to get. Your mouth opens before you feel like you’ve even made your decision.

 “I knew you liked me,” you acknowledge because you don’t want to be unfair, “but part of me always wondered: ‘how much does he?’ and ‘for how long will he?’. I was already scared that I was just a phase for you. Before Dasom ever said it.”

 Jeongguk tenses just a touch at the mention of his ex and you pretend not to notice, continuing with, “So when she said that I was just something you needed to get out of your system and you didn’t defend me? God, Jeongguk,” you get out, eyes squeezing shut. Wincing at the ghost of pain the memory brings back. “That hurt so much.”

 Despite your wanting to look him in the eye and come off strong while you relay how his actions made you feel; it’s impossible. Despite wanting to seem as though you’ve healed and grown and matured and like it just doesn’t hurt so bad anymore; you can’t face him.

 “And then everything happened so quickly?” you continue before he can get a word in, your words coming out rushed and frantic, “It felt like you didn’t even think about it, and like it was just so easy for you to let me go? Like I really was nothing just like she said–”

 He can’t stop himself from reaching out and quieting you when he hears the way your voice breaks. Jeongguk doesn’t want you to cry, not sure he could handle it if you did. Your hands are in your lap still, clenched together, so he rests a palm on your knee. 

 “___,” he says gently, “I need you to believe me when I tell you that none of that is true.”

 You keep talking like you don’t hear him.

 “It almost seemed like you were already over it, bored of me. And her saying those things was a convenient way to– ” you shake your head before sighing. “I was always scared that you’d end up getting tired of me, that you would stop wanting me and just get rid of me. And after what she said, it felt like you finally did. Like you used her words as an excuse so you could finally leave me.”

 “That’s not true, baby,” he reiterates, tongue slipping as he tries to console you again

 At the pet name you look up. Your red-rimmed eyes locking with his. 

 He stutters a bit as he backtracks, barely able to get out a stiff apology. 

 And your lips pull down in a deep frown, and your brows turn up confusedly. “You said you wanted to… fix things with me?”

 Jeongguk’s lips part, dim surprise taking over his face before he breathes a small yes.

 “I want that too,” you breathe back, “but I’m still so afraid Jeongguk.”

 “I know, I know you are– I am too–”

 “Not like me,” you counter, “You may be scared, but you’re not scared like me. You can’t be scared like me.” 

 Your words come out sharper than intended, too emotional for the facade you’re trying to portray. But you don’t dwell on the tone of your voice. Nor do you dwell on the brief ire that flickers in Jeongguk’s eyes. 

 “I’m scared that I’ll never catch up to you. You won’t ever know what that feels like because you’ll never be the one that’s worried about falling behind– you’re the one that’s ahead of the curve. I’m scared that I’m not good enough for you and Nari– that I can’t be. You have no reason to be scared of that.” 

 The fight to keep your voice level and in control dwindles. Every ounce of your pain can be heard as you let out the burdensome ache in your heart, little by little. 

 Each word is heavier than the last when you ask Jeongguk, “Why would you be afraid of not being good enough for someone who never made you question it?” 

 Jeongguk flinches. Visibly recoils as if your words are abrasive enough to hurt. 

 Which is what you wanted. You wanted to hurt him, but it doesn’t make you feel better like you anticipated. If anything his reaction makes your pain ricochet right back at you. Hurting him, hurting you.

 And then you consider that perhaps, you didn’t truly want him to hurt– that you might have just wanted him to be aware. To know what you’re scared of; how it hurts to be scared.  

 “Maybe you are scared, too,” you amend, “Maybe there are even a few things that we’re both afraid of… but being scared isn’t something we have in common.”

 The hurt from before is replaced by barely-hidden defensiveness. Jeongguk does try to hide it as he listens to you, though. You give him credit for that.

 “Being scared that you’ll realize that I actually am just some stupid kid that doesn’t know what she wants, exactly like you thought, is a very specific fear,” you try to explain. “I’m scared that one day you’ll look at me but you won’t see me anymore– you’ll see a mistake that could have been avoided if you never came back. That I’ll cross your mind. But instead of thinking fondly… you’ll end up thinking about how you wish you had just stuck by your decision when you said you wouldn’t let me stay.”

 A defensive urge to argue the validity of his feelings comes naturally– he’s only human. His emotional side finds it unfair of you to determine, decide, and define his fears but the irony of the situation dawns on his logical side just as quickly. 

 The fact that you’re speaking to him in a manner that mirrors how he spoke to you all those months ago, doesn’t escape him. Instead, the similarities make him stop and think. Something he regrets not doing that night in his living room. 

 He concludes that arguing with you would be pointless. He knows you’re right and it doesn’t take him long to realize. 

 Yeah, Jeongguk’s scared. But just like you said– he’s not scared like you. Not scared of what you’re scared of. Jeongguk’s fears are more or less internal and he’s had a few of them for most of his adult life, since he became a father. Some of the fears may concern you in some way or another, but none of them manifested because of you or something you did or things you said. 

 He’s scared, but he’ll never be scared like you. Not when the things you’re afraid of only exist because of him. 

 The thought of it never going away, of you never being the same or free of the ache he caused, even after the insecurities and fears are dug up by the root– it makes Jeongguk feel like he’s going to be sick. 

 “I know you didn’t mean to hurt me,” you end up saying after a few moments of watching Jeongguk struggle to get words out. “And I know you regret it. You showing up here proves that.”

 The small, sad smile you give him is too kind for what he did.

 “I thought I was doing the right thing,” Jeongguk says, “For you, for Nari. I never thought– I’m so sorry, ___.”

 “I know,” you reassure, gently. 

 And you truly do know how sorry Jeongguk is. He obviously doesn’t have the words to express his remorse, but sincerity is written all over his face. His big doe-eyes dark and glassy and so genuine. Full of regret; the longing to go back and undo what can’t be undone. Somehow so full of warmth, just like you remember. 

 “I don’t want to fight anymore,” you say. 

 It doesn’t sound like you’re at your wit’s end or like you feel as if the conversation has reached it’s breaking point. Just sounds like what it means. Like you don’t want to fight. Not with him. Not with yourself. Not with what you’ve been wishing for since you lost it. 

 Jeongguk agrees, nodding. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it a fight. I want you to be able to talk to me about–” He’s flighty, moving his hands all about, like he’s nervous and has too many things he wants to say. “about everything, really. So, I promise, I’ll just listen–”

 You watch him for a few more seconds, letting the corners of your lips turn up just so. Then you reach for his hands, ceasing their movement with your own. 

 “Shush,” you laugh faintly, “There’s still a lot we have to talk about. So much– we can’t get through it all with one conversation. It’s gonna take a lot of them and a long time, probably. But I think we’ve covered the most important stuff, right?”

 You’re aware it’s going to take time to get through the maze of problems you and Jeongguk have created between each other.

 But you can’t help but think about all time that you wasted while making them. 

 And you don’t want to waste even more time by waiting till everything is figured out before you start letting yourself get past it. You don’t want to hinder the process of moving forward by getting lost trying to navigate the maze. Not when you’ve finally made your way back to each other. 

 So while the labyrinth hasn’t been solved, and all your issues haven’t been fixed, at least now, you don’t have to do it alone. You can resolve everything and find a way out together. 

 It’s possible that you’re too willing to push things aside, that you’re too keen to move past it all. That you’re not standing your ground, being too easy and too soft, too quick. That you’re not giving yourself enough time to consider what you haven’t touched on yet. To process what you have. 

 But as you told Jeongguk, you feel like what needed to be addressed has been. With time, everything else will be talked about. Which is enough for you and your eager heart. You don’t want to wait anymore, not when you’ve been waiting so long already.

 Jeongguk’s wearing a flush when you grin at him and he looks down at the pair of your hands, still slightly entangled on your duvet. His thumb rubs softly over your knuckles while he says, “If you’re sure?”

 Vaguely aware of Jeongguk absently toying with your fingers while he awaits your reply, you think it over just for the sake of it and end up remembering something.

 You hum musingly, making sure he can hear the smile you decorate it with. An attempt to diffuse the heavy air in your room till it’s something more buoyant; lighthearted and easier to breathe. You curl your manicured finger around one of his, trapping it briefly before untangling both your hands.

 “Actually,” you start. 

 So very attentive, Jeongguk whips his head up. 

 “Now that I think about it, you told me why it took you so long,” you reflect, “But you didn’t tell me why now.”

 Jeongguk opens his mouth to reply before he’s furrowing his brows, puzzled, pursing his lips into a line. It’s quiet while he thinks.

 A weak, hopeless simper sounds, and he shakes his head while running a hand through his hair. “Again, I wish I had a better answer for you.”

 You roll your eyes and change positions, now sitting criss-cross in front of him. “Okay, well, you didn’t just randomly show up! There had to have been something that made you come now; today.”

 Light, but genuine laughter rings in your room– it starts off sounding like it’s accidental, cut-off chuckles only heard because the person laughing can’t hold it in, and it ends as cute giggles that lilt throughout the space softly. 

 And it’s all Jeongguk’s fault. 

 “No,” he says, around a breathy giggle, “I really did. I probably shouldn’t admit that, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I ended up caving and looking at your–” 

 It’s now your fault that sounds of amusement continue to filter in the air– Jeongguk’s eyes getting wide and his face turning pink is too funny and you can’t not laugh at him.

 He stutters when he tries to backtrack, “Y… Your– pictures? On my phone? In my camera roll?” 

 You narrow your eyes suspiciously, impishly. “Which of my pictures, hmm?”

 The flush coloring his cheeks runs down to his chest, the silver LV pendant of his necklace would probably be warm if you reached out and touched it. He would probably be warm too if you reached out and touched him.

 “No! Oh my god, not those! I did not look at those, okay? Anyway,” he rushes out, “I really was on my way to work! But add a couple of turns and a few steps–” he shrugs, “I guess now because I physically couldn’t keep myself from you any longer? Because then I was at your door and now I’m here. With you.”

 The giggles have finally ceased, and now it’s just your paired breathing that acts as low background noise while you both take the other in.

 “Now you’re here with me,” you repeat softly, with an even softer smile.

 Jeongguk’s eyes drop to your lips for the briefest of moments. He darts his tongue out to wet his own.

 “___. You were right,” he tells you, “It didn’t have to be all or nothing like I thought it did.”

 You nod once.

 “I’m sorry for not listening to you. For deciding for you and not letting you make your own choices. And for not even letting you explain your side that night. For how bad I hurt you and for all the things the hurt caused.”

 “Okay,” you breathe.

 “I should have listened to you.”

 Again, you nod.

 “I should have chosen you.”

 It’s almost instantaneous when tears well in your eyes.

 “But I was so scared of the way I wanted you and how badly I wanted it,” Jeongguk confesses, “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you before. For anybody.”

 Mild confusion makes a home in your eyes.

 He expects it before he sees it stir your features, so he’s not surprised when it appears. He finds himself smiling. Maybe because he’s wanted to tell you that since he realized it. Or maybe he wants to finally do what he should have done the night of the fight, and even before then. 

 Jeongguk smiles at your uncertainty because this time, he gets to make it go away. He gets to reassure you of your place in his life, of how important you are to him. Of how you’re worth trying for. He’s quick to shush you when your lips part to speak. 

 “No one,” he insists, “You’re so different, ___. And I feel so differently for you. I feel different when I’m with you. That’s part of why I was afraid. I was scared to want you because I didn’t know how to have you.”

 Tears are making his eyes gleam, glassy in the morning light that streams through your blinds. Yours are a mirror and you don’t know how you’ve kept the drops from spilling over.

 “I’m still fucking scared,” he admits, “Like you said, we’re both still scared. Because we have no god damn clue how this will turn out. If we’ll even be able to fix it and get back to the way we were. Who might be collateral damage if we can’t. If one of us will end up changing our mind. Or if we’ll end up even better; if we –me and you, together– will be the only thing that we’re sure about.”

 The urge to tell him that you’ve been sure ever since you found his round little bug of a baby in your grocery store is so strong– you think you may burst because of it. Maybe the lovestruck feeling in your chest has gone supernova. 

 “I have no clue about anything other than the fact that I want to be with you, ___.”  

 Let the record show that between you and him, Jeongguk is the one to let the first tear fall during this conversation.

 “I want to try.” 

 “Yeah–”

 “If you’ll let me, I want to try for you. And if you’ll have me, I want to try with you. Because if we don’t at least try– I think I’ll wish that we did forever.”

 When you beam at him and exhale a simple, ‘Okay’ and Jeongguk echoes it, he thinks this is all too easy.

 But then he remembers how everything with you has always been that way. Maybe not too easy, but just right. Concerning you, the hardest thing he’s had to do is be without. 

 He brings your hand to his lips, brushing your knuckles with a sweet, kiss. “I want to be with you,” he tells you again.

 You bite your lip to suppress your smile. “Then be with me.”

 This time he’s the one saying ‘Okay’ and you’re the one echoing.

 Until backtrack with a pout. “What… what am I? Like– to you.”

 “What do you want to be?”

 “Yours.” 

 Your answer is breathed so quickly, like you didn’t even have to think about it to know that’s what you wanted. Like that’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. How fast you reply gives Jeongguk butterflies. Makes him giddy while he tries to calm himself as he confirms, “Mine,” before he adds quietly, a little shy, “I’ll introduce you as… my girlfriend?”

 Jeongguk is so endeared when you close your eyes, wistful when you ask him to say it again in an airy voice. 

 “My girlfriend,” he whispers, squeezing your hand in his.

 When you open your eyes to look at him and he sees unshed tears heavy on your lashline, his heart pulls in his chest and it breaks a little when you murmur, “I didn’t know if I would ever hear you say that.” 

 “I’m sorry it took me so long.”

 A teardrop escapes the corner of your eye when you shake your head, smiling so sweetly, so happily. Jeongguk’s distracted, just taking it in and getting lost in everything that is you. So much so, that he doesn’t see it coming. Not until your arms are wrapped around his neck, his reflexively coming up to wrap around your waist like muscle memory. 

 Jeongguk takes a deep breath when he has you in his arms, nuzzles his nose into your hair. Pulls you impossibly closer, and he can feel how he squeezes the air out of you when you puff out a dulcet laugh into the crook of his neck. 

 When you bring your hand to the back of his head, the feel of your nails on his scalp and your fingers in his hair is enough to make him sigh, sink into the touch. It’s familiar. Feels like a natural progression, just like the way your cheeks brush when you pull away just slightly, only to come back. Closer this time. 

 His nose bumps yours, and he inhales your shaky sigh. 

 “I…”

 “Yeah?” Jeongguk breathes. 

 The shift is swift. The temperament of the atmosphere smoothly transforms– going from something saccharine and tenderly sentimental to something decadently rich and heavy. The air all at once becomes thick and intoxicatingly heady; plush and ardently warm. 

 The build-up is gradual. At first, the sudden heady note of warmth that makes your room hazy just feels like a blanket. Like it covers softly, tickles the skin lightly. Then it begins to seep in so slowly, gradually, that it’s not noticeable until the heat of it can be felt bone deep. Until fingers shake with the desire to touch. 

 It starts with Jeongguk nosing along your jaw; down the length of your neck when you tilt your head to the side for him. It starts with the occasional, accidental brush of his lips against your skin. It starts with your hand gripping tight in his hair, a subtle try at pulling him in to keep him near. 

 It ends with a kiss.

 Albeit, a fleeting one– but still a kiss nonetheless. 

 Pulling himself back, Jeongguk’s features are tensed. Eyes squeezed shut, teeth gritted as he struggles with himself. He’s rough when he gets a hold of you by your waist. His fingers digging in harshly; almost like he doesn’t realize how he’s handling you. But he’s gentle when pushes you away to put some space between you. 

 “Why–” you whisper, needy, as you bring your palms to cover his grip at your waist. You pet at the backs of his hands, coaxing him into letting them roam. You guide his touch down to your hips when he gives in briefly, encouraging him to touch you.  

 “I don’t know if– Maybe we shouldn’t–” 

 You crowd his space, bringing yourself to your knees and pushing his palms down to where the hem of your too-big sweatshirt grazes high on your bare thigh. Jeongguk groans after he loses his short internal battle. Can’t rob himself of squeezing at the meat of your thighs just for a second before he’s trying to pull his hands from yours.

 He doesn’t get very far because you end up cradling his face in your hands, angling his head up to look at you. And Jeongguk’s always been so easy for you. It’s no surprise how easily he yields to the movement; how easy his eyes slip shut. How easily he parts his lips when your tongue teases the seam; how easy it is to get lost in the taste of you. 

 “Shouldn’t what, Gguk?” you ask in a soft voice. Each word spoken between the kisses you’re trailing down the column of his neck.

 Jeongguk keeps his hands mostly to himself. Awkwardly letting them hover by your sides as he searches his brain, trying to recall the reason why he’s clinging to his resolve. It is so hard though, when you’re right in front of him. So willing and eager to let him have you. He finds himself following your lips when you barely let the plush center graze his cupid’s bow. 

 “Maybe we should… take it slow?” he offers, dazedly. It wasn’t supposed to sound like a question, but Jeongguk can’t help the way his voice carries up at the tail end like he’s not sure that’s really what he wants. 

 A little giggle falls from your lips, puffs hotly over his. And Jeongguk’s never thought you evil before, but right now he’s certain that you are. Because, with wistful mirth still in your voice, all you do is nod like you’re simply humoring him and say, “Yeah, maybe.”

 Then you kiss him again, sighing a delicate, ‘Touch me’ against his lips.

 You bring his awkward hands to your body, placing them on your tits, urging him to cup and squeeze over your sweatshirt. 

 Jeongguk exhales shakily, unable to keep himself from rolling them in his palms. 

 “Yeah,” you whisper, “Please.”

 His hold on your chest turns rough, accidentally letting his pent-up frustration out through his touch and taking it out on you. It doesn’t hurt, not really, but you still whine. Let out a high, airy keen as your eyes slip shut and your head tilts back. 

 There’s no warning. Only Jeongguk’s hands moving to your shoulders, followed by a push and then a tumble, ending with you on your back and Jeongguk hovering over you. He’s got your wrists pinned by your head, and he looks down at you with dark eyes. The frustration in them juxtaposes the surprise in yours. 

 “You know that’s not fair, ___,” he chides. His tone is harsh, trying to sound stern, maybe angry– but there’s a slight waver in his voice that tells you he’s struggling to stay collected. 

 Fussily, you squirm under him. You tug against the hold he has on your wrists, only for him to squeeze tighter. You cant your hips in an attempt to rub up against his, only for Jeongguk to just lift them higher. A laugh of incredulity pairs the disbelief on his face when he glances between your wiggling frame and your irritated pout. 

 “I’m trying to do things right,” he explains around his bemusement, as he roughly presses your wrists deeper into the mattress. “I’m trying to be good.”

 You stare up at him with pinched brows. He looks so pretty above you. Flushed a pretty pink with his lips parted and plumped by the kisses you managed to steal. A stray, misplaced strand of hair flutters with his heavy breathing. His eyes keep flitting down to your lips, and you can physically see how much he wants you; how hard it is for him to fight it.

 When he finally lowers his body to yours, it’s almost defeatedly. Jeongguk gives in and just rests his weight on you. Presses himself against you, hot and hard between your legs. Finding his place easily when you open up and make room for him.

 He keeps that pressure on his cock while he exhales a trembling, almost relieved sigh. His nose brushes yours but when you tilt your head to connect your lips, he pulls back. He does it again, taunting you with almost-kisses until you’re craning your neck again.

 He doesn’t kiss you back when he lets your lips connect. In fact, you can feel how he purses his stubbornly. You stay determined, unswayed by his resistance. Your soft kisses inch from his mouth to pepper cute, all over his blushing skin. The scar on his cheek, the bridge of his nose. The just barely off-center freckle beneath his bottom lip. When your palm naturally settles on his neck, fingertips over his pulse point, you let out a breathy noise of wonder when you feel how fast his heart is racing. 

 And he feels his cock kick shamefully in his pants, letting out a breathy noise of his own. You feel it too and you coo, soft and fond, as you trail your other hand down his spine until it’s flat on the small of his back, pressing encouragingly. 

 Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, Jeongguk hangs his head to get closer to you. He bites gently at the pudge of your cheek, letting his teeth drag lightly until he’s mouthed hot, all the way to your ear.  

 “Why won’t you let me be good?” he whispers. 

 He croons prettily against the shell of your ear before he nips teasingly at your earlobe. A heat curls in your belly, making you suck in a short, whiny breath. The insides of your thighs clamp tight around his frame. 

 “Be good to me,” you gasp, arching up into him.

 Jeongguk moans quietly and buries his face in your neck when he can’t stop his hips from stuttering into a clumsy rhythm. Sloppily rutting his cock over your panties, uncoordinated and eager.

 Maybe he’s overly sensitive, hyperaware of your body underneath him, but when you begin to roll your hips, meeting his and matching his pace– he can feel how the little bit of added pressure has you opening up for him. Just enough for his hard-on to slide between, barely pillowed by your panty-covered pussylips. Even through the clothing, he can feel the difference. Like he knows you can. 

 He hears the unexpected moan you let out when you feel his cock rut over your clit and he feels the way your nails dig into his back at the sudden enhanced pleasure before he shifts to rest on his forearms so he can see too. 

 And what a pretty sight you are. 

 Eyes hazy and heavy, half-lidded as you look down your body to where he’s making you feel good. Cheeks flushed a rosy pink with arousal and maybe a little bit of abashment when you glance up at him and see him already watching you. You give him a small, shy grin before letting your eyes flutter closed. Basking in how he’s making you feel, your mouth falling open in a silent moan.  

 As he takes you in, his lips part with a low groan. His own pleasure coming from pleasuring you; heightened by every noise, look, and movement you make. Jeongguk gets such a specific satisfaction and gratification from making you feel good. From being good to you.

 “Is this what you want?” Jeongguk whispers, slowing down some. He settles into a steadier pace, rutting his cock up and down on your cunt with slow, lazy drags. 

 He grins to himself because of how quick you are to nod and let him know that, yes, this is what you want. His hand comes up to smooth some of the flyaways that have sprouted from your squirming and he cups your cheek when your turn into his touch. 

 “Hmm?” he prompts, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. 

 You huff, annoyed, and he can’t help but coo, smitten. 

 “Yeah– yes I want this, but I–,” you start off strong. You hold his gaze until shyness wins and has you focusing on the necklace dangling from his neck. The LV sways some as he continues to rock his hips. “I want more, too.”

 “Yeah?” Jeongguk asks, a smile lacing his dreamy tone. He gives a quick, soft peck to your red-bitten lips in lieu of letting you answer. “I know you do,” he tells you, murmurs it with open-mouthed kisses against your throat. He pulls at the neck of your sweatshirt, draws a violet into your collarbone, using his lips as the pen. Then he tugs the thin skin between his teeth briefly, making you inhale harshly before he kisses it better. 

 “Gonna take care of you,” he promises, “take my time with you.”

 Jeongguk proceeds at his own languid speed, lingering on every new inch of skin that’s revealed as he rids you of your sweatshirt. Of your panties. 

 He allows you your own pace as well. 

 Doesn’t spur you on when you’re slow to open up his dress shirt, doesn’t goad you into nimble quickness when your fingers stumble and it takes you far longer than it should to undo all the buttons. He doesn’t hurry you when your touch drags over his skin, or when your palms falter at his shoulders, or when your fingertips lag all the way down his arms when you finally slide the button-up off. When your shaky hands bide their time, hesitating at the buckle of his belt, he doesn’t rush you. 

 Jeongguk takes his time –and lets you take yours– as if time itself doesn’t exist when it’s passing between the both of you. As if each moment that comes and each moment that goes is inconsequential because moments are meaningless and time is simply a concept when forever is right now. 

 Nothing really matters and there’s no need to rush when he’s in your hands and you’re in his arms and forever is in his heart.  

 “Not yet,” he lilts, grabbing your wrists and sliding the flat of your palms up his tummy and away from his waistline. 

 “But I–”

 “But I–” he flirts coyly. 

 Your mouth opens to argue, but the words never get a voice. His mien makes the words in your throat fall mute and causes a feeling of wistfulness to rouse in your heart.  

 Knelt on his knees between your legs, smiling down at you, playful and flirty. Happy. Wearing a pink full-body flush– Jeongguk is stunning. Distractingly so. 

 He’s glowing; gentle yet radiant. A quiet fondness reflected in his eyes as he looks at you with that well-worn adoration of his. It’s a familiar affection. One that you’ve missed, yearned for, and memorized– one that you’ve tried to unlearn and tried to forget, too, because of how much it ached to remember. 

 Nostalgia is a wonted thing that taints good memories until it hurts to remember them. It warped the memory of Jeongguk’s adoration until even just a fleeting thought about it hurt. It made you want to wipe your memory clean just to be freed from the yearning.

 But with him looking at you the way he is, with that same raw adoration, you can’t fathom how you wanted to forget how it made you feel. How it still makes you feel. Because how good does it feel to be adored? How good does it feel to be wanted? How good does it feel to be finally his? 

 You dig your nails into his skin at the thought, and his tummy tenses. His grip on your wrists tightens and he lets out a soft hiss, the sound buoyed by a light, airy chuckle.

 His thumbs run over the pulse points in your wrists. “Lean against the headboard for me? Get comfy?”

 Cushioned by a few pillows, you do as he says, sinking into the down. Your knees are bent, and your arms are wrapped over your middle, now hyper-aware of how exposed you are comparatively. 

 Jeongguk’s top half is just as bare as you, only his necklace still on. But even though his lower body is covered, his bottoms are unforgiving. Dark slacks belted at his hips, the slight dip by his hipbones accentuated and his v-lines disappearing into the waistband where his cock is tucked away. Too hard and heavy to disguise, clothes doing almost nothing.  

 Not that he’s trying to hide it much at all. He’s palming himself casually, his touch light and his eyes dark. Tracking your movements while he waits for you to get settled. 

 When you are, Jeongguk makes his way to you, his hands resting on your knees as he lets his gaze roam. From your eyes to your lips, to your pillowy tits, to your closed legs. You feel a light pressure, almost tentative like he’s asking for permission with his touch.

 He’s on his best behavior though, so he asks you as well. And when you hear how his voice comes out a little deeper, with an almost imperceptible tremble, as he gently asks, “Can I?”,  your lashes flutter and your thighs reflexively press together, before you let him guide them open. 

 Time isn’t real, but any time in your bed shouldn’t go to waste. So he swiftly resituates himself, resting between your spread legs with his lips naturally finding their place on your neck, his hands on your skin. 

 Jeongguk’s quick, but attentive, as he relocates his mouth. The spit from his kiss marks leave a faint, wet trail from where they start at your neck down to the swell of your tits. He sighs when he gets a hold of them, jiggling a bit and squeezing. He glances at you through his lashes, as he plays your nipples, teasing them till they’re hardened by his touch. He smiles to himself when he sees you bring your bottom lip between your teeth to keep quiet.

 When he uses his lips to tease, he hears you sigh an airy, pleased sound. He’s smug as he swirls his tongue, flicks lightly over the stiff little peak. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding and pushing into him, before it’s released in a stuttery exhale. When you get a hold of his hair, the strands curl around your fingers, softly, like how you hold him close and cradle him to your chest. 

 He gives the paired nipple the same attention. Has you mewling prettily with each lick and suck. Whining with each bite and tug. 

 As he follows the length of your body, he does so with small, suctioning bites. A little nip just below your sternum, a little nip under your ribs. One at the softest part of your lower belly, right next to the pink heart of your belly ring. He gives the jewel a tiny, baby kiss.

 “This is the same one that you had in the first time we…” he stammers, too aware of the blush that simmers just under his skin at the thought. “We… you know… right?”

 Jeongguk’s laying on his front, his head resting against your inner thigh. His arms wrapped around your legs, resting on your belly. The tattooed fingers of his right hand absently toy with the dangly part of the jewelry. 

 Something warms you from the inside, pleasantly surprised by the mushy, lovesick feeling that washes over you. Your heart beats, rapid in your chest, and you wonder if Jeongguk can feel the whirlwind of butterflies in your tummy under his palms. 

 You nod, blushingly and shy. “Yeah, it’s… yeah.”

 “Just as cute as I remember,” he nods back. The puffs under Jeongguk’s eyes form when he smiles and adds, “This one is my favorite… Gonna make you feel good now, okay?”

 He says it so casually, that you want to laugh a little, but the anticipation it sparks makes you tense. Your pussy clenches on nothing, and you can feel that tell-tale heartbeat pulse between your legs. 

 “Okay… yeah…” you whisper dumbly, trying to hide how eager you are. You slowly open your legs a little wider so you can see him better, so he can touch you better. 

 Jeongguk switches from having one of his hands wrapped around your thigh to it resting palm down on your mons. He uses his thumb to lightly run along your plump folds, up and down. His eyes are fixed on your pussy, and his tongue peeks out to wet his lips a little before he nibbles on the inside of his lip, a soft smile making the corners curl. 

 “Just as cute as I remember,” he says again, his tone playful and a little wistful this time. He kisses just above your slit.

 Past lovers had said your cunt was pretty or maybe perfect when they found themselves between your legs, but Jeongguk has always called your pussy cute. It’s just a thing he does. And you don’t know why, but it never fails to make you blush, a little giddy and shy– something just so simple and sweet about his word of choice. 

 Even now, it has you wiggling and trying to inch your legs closed as you bring your hands up to hide your face. It’s whiny, but you both know you don’t really mean it when you say, “Stooooop” the word dragged out and laced with pleased flattery.

 You can feel Jeongguk’s warm laughter puff over your cunt as he urges you to keep your legs spread. He hums as the giggles subside and says, “Don’t be shy now, I’m just getting started.”

 A wistful sigh sounds, and it’s soft and cute and taunting when you say, “Okay well, hurry up.”

 You shift slightly here and there to get more comfortable, running a hand through your hair as you resist the urge to smile back at Jeongguk when he gives you a look. When you bring your arm down from your hair, Jeongguk snags it, guiding your hand to your cunt. But when you start to play yourself he stops you, tuttingly.

 “Don’t touch, just– open up for me,” he instructs, “Show me.”

 Jeongguk groans under his breath when you do as he says. When he stroked over your pussy lips just a moment ago, they were plush and smooth, soft to the touch with your arousal tucked neatly between your folds. But with them spread, he can see how you’re glossy with slick; so dewy when he’s barely even touched you. 

 “You’re already so wet. How long have you been like this, hmm?” he wonders aloud, gathering a small bit of the sticky clear at your opening with his finger before just barely pushing it inside. Kind of like he’s trying to put the little droplet back where it came from; not let it go to waste. Then he brings his touch to your clit and your pussy slick aids the up and down swipes of his thumb. 

 “Ah– fuck,” you faintly gasp. 

 Jeongguk’s cock pulses as you bring your other hand down, using both to spread yourself open more and pull back the hood of your clit. Making sure his touch is direct and the sensation feels as good as possible. The thought of you already being so greedy for pleasure is enough for him to leak, precum surely leaving a wet patch in his briefs. 

 Even though he’s being gentle, when he rubs over your exposed clit, you shy away from his touch despite being so fiendish for it. Jeongguk babies you with a coo because he knows that you’re probably so sensitive. You gave yourself almost no time to warm up, afterall. 

 “Too much?” he asks you.

 With a shake of your head, you say, “No, no… just– slowly, please.”

 Your words make him smile and he gives your inner thigh a honeyed kiss for being so good. The smile lingers because slow is the pace he always intended to use, at your request or not. It’s how he intends to finish you too. For the first time, at least. 

 Jeongguk keeps that slow speed until your body relaxes and another few drops of clear slick drip for your cunt. The thumb of his other hand rubs softly over your taint as he collects what you leak and tucks it back inside. Your pussy clenches and your hole puckers at the sensation every time, and it makes him fucking throb. 

 The thumb on your clit only speeds up enough for it to not be torturous or agonizingly slow, the pace satisfying but remaining lax and unhurried, like he has all the time in the world. Once he finds a good rhythm, he keeps the motions constant and consistent.

 When you start to get antsy and fidget, he smiles to himself knowingly. 

 “Feels good, baby?” he asks you, and when you nod, he whispers, “Yeah? Look so pretty…”

 And you didn’t lie. It does feel good. But he doesn’t go any faster. He doesn’t push the fingers at your opening in any farther. And after a handful of seconds that feel like minutes that feel like hours– there still isn’t any indication that he plans to.  

 When you roll your hips, trying to hint at what you want, Jeongguk stops you with a scolded tsk, telling you to stay still. The sound you let out is frustrated and petulant.

 There’s a taunting note in Jeongguk’s voice when he says, “I thought you said it feels good?”

 “It does,” you tell him, “But– faster?”

 Jeongguk’s expression is entertained, chuffed even. “I told you I was gonna take my time with you. Need you to be patient for me, baby–”

 “Please–”

 “Hush, ___.” 

 There’s still lingering amusement in his tone, but there’s also a sharpness, a hint of disapproval and something stern that wasn’t there before. It’s enough of a warning to silence the begging on the tip of your tongue. 

 “I’ll get you there, baby,” he says, his voice sweet again. “It’ll feel so good, I promise.”

 It’s quiet for a moment. Then–

 “I changed my mind, it doesn’t feel good.”

 Jeongguk doesn’t even look up from your pussy when he asks a preoccupied, “No?” Then he peeks at you, and when you give a pouty nod he hums. It’s smiling and mirthful when he dismisses you. “Well, don’t worry. It will soon.”

 Jeongguk is content between your thighs, still playing with your clit slowly. He only checks on you when your squirming mostly stops and you become suspiciously mute. 

 He snorts when he sees you scowling at him. “Don’t look at me like that.” After a few seconds with no response, he continues with, “Oh, so you’re going to be difficult now?”

 You shrug, snooty. 

 Laughing, he asks, “You’re really gonna act like it doesn’t feel good?” The corners of his lips curl softly and his eyes narrow like he’s scrutinizing you. His head tilts a little when he continues with, “Like you’re not leaking, right now? Like you wouldn’t be making a mess on your sheets if I wasn’t helping you?”

 Jeongguk watches your cheeks steadily turn a deep pink at his words until you look away from him, turning your nose in the air. You probably would have covered your face with your hands to avoid his gaze had they not been occupied.

 He chuckles again when he’s only met more silence. Just the slightest squirm when he tucks another leaked droplet back into your cunt. To make a point.

 “That’s okay, you can be mad at me as long as you’re patient, too,” he says, tone grossly fond and a perfect example of the patience he wants from you. “Still gonna make you cum. Still gonna be good to you and give you what you want.”

 And it seems what people say about patience being a virtue and all that, is true. Because just like Jeongguk said, with just a bit more time and some decorum, it does start to feel even better.   

 Like the way he’s been touching you, the come-up is slow and steady. The hot waves of pleasure that ebb in your lower belly. The rise and fall of your chest that gradually gets faster. The noises that get harder and harder to keep in. 

 Jeongguk doesn’t need to hear you, though, to know he’s getting you there. But he’s enjoying this brattier side of you –he remembers you being difficult every now and then, but overall you were always so good for him; never fought him too hard on things– so he humors you by asking, “Starting to feel nice, baby?”

 Everso tart, you shrug again, looking off to the side. 

 Still, Jeongguk doesn’t need to see your face to know he’s getting you there. Your pussy is a whistleblower, telling him everything he needs to know. Your cunt– leaking non-stop, contracting constantly. Your tiny clit– now puffy and swollen from all his attention. 

 Your fingers holding your pussy lips apart for him have a mild tremor. Your brows are arched when you finally give him your attention again, watching his thumb swipe up and down, over and over again. Your legs are beginning to tremble beside him. Your head is lulling back, and your lungs are exhaling a lewd sigh. 

 “I– I’m close,” you whisper, breathlessly.

 Jeongguk purrs, is just about to tease you and your stubbornness with something along the line of ‘Really? Thought it didn’t feel good, ___’. But he doesn’t get the chance because of how close the string in you is to snapping. How it’s pulled so taut that it has you near tears, that slow and steady come-up finally peaking.

 “Oh my god, Gguk– my– my pussy’s gonna cum,” you cry quietly, legs shaking as you struggle to keep them open.

 “Mhm, I told you, baby,” he hums, smug, “Let me see how good it feels.”

 Your face is turned into your shoulder, but you nod for him. Focusing on the ruining, slow, consistent rubbing of his thumb. The pleasure is so mind-numbingly good that, as much as you want to cum, you try to make it last as long as possible. 

 Which isn’t much longer at all, only a few more vertical swipes over your clit is all you can handle before you’re mewing a soft warning and cumming so hard your body convulses.

 “That’s my girl. So pretty, baby. Did so good; always such a good girl for me,” Jeongguk praises, full of lust-filled awe as he watches you finish. He feels your clit pulsing under his thumb and he sees your cunt squeezing repeatedly around nothing and now he that he’s not preventing it, he sees how your pussy cums– leaking everything that he tucked away and dripping down to your sheets. Making a mess like he knew it would.

 He continues to rub your clit until your body twitches, curling in on yourself as you close your legs and bring them to your chest. Wrapping your arms around the backs of your knees and pulling your legs to your chest, you curl into yourself for protection as Jeongguk moves to shed himself of the rest of his clothes. Then he sits on his heels while he watches you, amused. 

 Even though you’ve made a great attempt at hiding your pussy away, with the way you’re positioned it still peeks out from between your thighs. Puffy and shiny. 

 You’re on your back with your eyes closed, still catching your breath. The feel of Jeongguk’s hands on you makes you jump, and when his touch moves form the backs of your thighs closer to your sensitive cunt, you whine, kicking at his arms weakly.

 “Shh,” he murmurs, “I won’t touch, I just want to look.”

 Somewhat soothed by his words, you begin to shift to a more relaxed position but Jeongguk pushes your legs back together and your knees back to your chest. 

 You gripe at being manhandled. “What if I want to see, too?” 

 “You don’t need to see if I tell you what I see,” Jeongguk reasons.

 “It’s mine,” you argue.

 “Ours,” he corrects.

 After telling Jeongguk that he’s dumb and asking him to please shut up, both of you dissolve into a fit of laughter. When you kick again, trying to get his shoulder as punishment, he gets a grip on your leg before you can land the hit and he kisses your ankle. You sigh.

 It’s quiet, and you’re content letting Jeongguk pet at you, listening as he tells you about what he sees. He says cute a few times. Wet, messy. His fingers brush over your folds, even plumper than before, and you can feel the sticky wetness that stays behind when he moves his touch to somewhere else.

 When he uses his thumbs to part your pussy lips, you hear him whine. The breathy noise makes you grin, and you hum lightly. 

 “Still cute?” you ask aloud. Eyes on the ceiling, smile still on your lips.

 Jeongguk knows he said he wouldn’t touch, but he doesn’t think you’re too sensitive anymore. He still bypasses your clit just in case when he slowly runs his fingertip to your opening. When he presses into the second knuckle, you moan sweetly and the sound mixes with the audible wetness. There’s a crystalline string still attached to his finger when he pulls away. 

 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk hums, answering your question. “But so messy.”

 You bite your lip when Jeongguk slips his finger in again, a little father this time. 

 “Clean me up, then,” you whisper, airy and wispy. 

 Jeongguk hums and when you look to the sound, you can see him peeking at you over your bent knees that are still pulled to your chest. He scrunches his nose at you cutely, and you mirror the curve of his lips.

 “I guess I should, since I’m the one who made you make such a mess,” he hums, like he’s mulling it over. But the fact that he does so while lowering his face to your cunt shows that he’s already made his decision. 

 In this position, you can’t see him and it makes you tense in anticipation while you wait.

 Jeongguk knows it’s a little mean to keep you waiting, but he can see you so perfectly like this. Can see how you’re trying control your arousal and calm yourself down with deep breaths. He can see how it’s not working.

 “You’re shaking,” he observes dreamily. 

 Your pussy leaks and he watches that glossy slick drip down. He uses his pointer finger to play with the droplet at your hole, swirling the dewiness around the cinched muscle.

 The sigh you let out is stuttered, and your hole clenches under his touch before you force yourself to relax again. You swallow your embarrassment before you admit, “I want it really bad, Gguk.”

 You sound like you’re close to crying and Jeongguk soothes you with wet kisses on your thighs. 

 “All you have to do is ask, baby,” Jeongguk tells you gently. His kisses move till they’re right next to your pussy, his tongue poking out to lick just outside your folds. His thumbs pull you open and he blows lightly.

 “Oh my god,” you whimper. 

 Jeongguk’s voice is full of flirty, mirth when he asks, “What do you say? Hmm?”

 The heartbeat in your cunt is the only thing you can focus on. The pulsing is so loud and strong that it drowns everything else out. You don’t even really hear it when you sigh a hazy, “Please, sir.” 

 Predictably, your words go straight to his cock. But weirdly enough, he also feels them in his heart? He can’t explain it but somehow the lust thrumming through him melts into something fond? A lovesick impulse has him opening your legs so he can slot himself in between.

 He doesn’t lay on you but holds himself above on a braced arm. His free hand comes up to cup your cheek as he looks at you. The corners of your eyes are damp, confirming the tears he thought he had heard in your voice earlier. Your lips are redder and a bit swelled, probably from you pulling them between your teeth.  

 Jeongguk kisses the corner of one eye, then the other, and then your lips. His thumb glides over your cheekbone. He sounds gentle when he says, “No ‘sir’ today, okay? Just Gguk.”

 You nod in his hold. 

 “Good girl,” he smiles, soft and sweet. “I’ll clean you up now, won’t tease you anymore.”

 You breathe a relieved sigh as Jeongguk kisses all the way down your tummy and you think about how good it’s going to feel, after all this time, to have his mouth all over your cunt. To feel his tongue licking into you, deep and slow. To feel his lips wrapping around your clit with light sucks. 

 The closer Jeongguk gets to your pussy, the harder it is to keep still. He smiles as you squirm and you can feel it in the juncture of your inner thigh where his mouth has strayed. It’s not too long before he gets back on track, kissing his way to your pussy till his lips are tucked between your plush folds and the tip of his tongue is circling your clit. 

 Your mouth drops open in a silent moan as you sit up, resting on your elbows to watch him. Just the sight of him is enough to make the first surge of heat curl in your belly. He’s got his eyes closed, lashes sitting pretty on the highs of his cheek as he licks at you. Cleaning you up and making a mess of you all at once. 

 “You look so pretty,” you whisper as you card a hand through his hair, pushing the stands off his forehead and out of his face.

 Without stopping his tongue, Jeongguk glances up at you, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. He moans pleased and happy into your pussy. Only pulls away for a second to whisper a cute ‘thank you’.

 His tongue is busy and so are his hands, running them up your body. When he gets to your tits, he’s harsh. Digging in and squeezing with palms that are just as greedy as his mouth. He uses the hold he has on them to pull himself closer, push his tongue deeper. The harshness of his touch makes you hiss, the hand you have in his hair tugging. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes roll back a little before he loosens grip, squeezing your tits once more, gently this time, as an apology. Then he’s smoothing his palms along your waist till one’s wrapped around your thigh and the other’s resting on your tummy.  

 He pulls away briefly to look at you, offering a sheepish grin before he pecks just above your slit. The hand he has on your belly absently fiddles with your bellyring.

 “Sorry,” he says, “I just– I don’t know, I didn’t notice how rough I was being.”

 You hum while you rest your feet on his back and wiggle your toes. 

 “I think I’ve just been wanting you for so long…” He turns his head and nuzzles into your leg by his head, his hair tickling the sensitive skin. “And now that I have you, I–” His lips graze your inner thigh with every word and when he’s at the softest part, he bites gently. 

 On a sigh, you ask, “You what?”

 Resting where his teeth just were, he tilts his head, looking up at you. “It’s hard for me to control myself. I just– can’t get enough of you.” His words are said with a sigh and uttered in between roaming wet kisses. 

 After he promises he’ll be more careful with you, he begins to lick broad stripes over your cunt. When you spread your legs wider, you can feel the flat of his tongue against your clit. But it’s just slightly, just a brush of his tongue. 

 “My clit,” you moan, looking down your nose at him, “Play with my clit.”

  He hums, pulling back a little. With your legs parted so wide, your pussy lips are spread just enough for him to see the little bud. He watches you as he uses the very tip of his tongue, flicking repeatedly over the sensitive spot just under your hood.

 Your brows pinch and your legs twitch as they naturally try to inch close, the feel of Jeongguk’s tongue so good and so much that your body is already on the verge of being overwhelmed. 

 “Ah– yeah, like that, Gguk,” you sigh letting your head roll back, basking in how good he’s making you feel, “Keep licking my pussy like that.”

 Your eyes lull shut while you let him make you feel good, and it’s then that you notice his hand on your tummy is still toying with your piercing. It’s distracting only for a moment, only before you realize that every time he does something to your clit with his tongue, he does the same to the dangly part of the jewelry with his fingers.

 When Jeongguk circles your clit, he twirls the charm. When he licks up and down over your clit, the little heart gets flicked too. When he suctions his lips and sucks your clit in and out of his mouth, he tugs gently on your belly ring.

 You can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose. One part of you thinking the patterns match up too well for it to be unconscious, the other part thinking it could just be an absentminded coincidence. You also can’t be sure why the nuanced touches are making the pleasure in your gut curl so tight; burn so hot.

 “Gguk– you’re gonna make me cum again…” you drone, lustdrunk. 

 He smiles while his tongue continues to lick lightly. “Am I?”

 While looking down your body at him, you nod. Your body already pulling taut with the tension that always preludes your orgasms.

 Jeongguk’s lips wrap around your clit and he gives a quick sucking kiss before he pulls away with a little pop! sound. “Not yet, I’m not done cleaning you up.”

 Groaning, you throw your head back. “You said you weren’t gonna tease anymore.”

 “I did,” he confirms, his big palms finding the backs of your thighs and pushing them back, “But not so you could cum– so I could clean up your mess–”

 “Your mess–”

 “Our mess,” he amends, the tips of his fingers straying to the newly exposed parts of you. Jeongguk brushes over your hole, and you suck in a small gasp. “You’re messy here too, baby.”

 Whining softly, you squirm as Jeongguk presses light, sucking kisses into your skin and there’s a subconscious urge to close your legs to keep him from getting where he so clearly intends. At the first signs of subtle hesitance, you feel his hands hold your legs open more firmly

 “Let me?” he breathes, “Please?”

 And something about how his voice is so soft –hazy and dreamy and full of so much lust and desire– has you relaxing, giving in. Docile and pliant in his hands. 

 You suppose some things may never change.

 The first feel of his tongue tasting you where no one has before makes you exhale a shaky sigh. Your hole puckering under the featherlight licks he gives. When he circles the cinched muscle, your mouth falls open and you look down your body and between your open legs to where Jeongguk already has his eyes on you. 

 His eyes get little puffs under them when he sees your reaction and smiles. The confusedly pleasured pinch of your brows. The tense way your hands grip the sheets under you.

 Giving your cheek a quick peck, he asks, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

 It makes the memory of him –hot and hard and leaking with your tongue on his hole– flash in your mind. It reminds you that he knows what he’s doing to you, that he knows he’s making you feel good because you made him feel the same way. Sure the anatomy’s different, but a tongue is a tongue and a hole is a hole. 

 In lieu of being difficult, you answer him with a moan; with your head hitting your pillows again.

 That’s confirmation enough for Jeongguk as he echoes your moan with his own. He wraps his lips around the tight muscle in a nasty wet kiss and then drags his tongue up and along your leaking center till he’s at your clit where he plays until he works you into a whiny mess.

 You’re tensing, and he can feel how your body shifts as your chest expands with the deep breaths you’re taking. Like you’re trying to focus and keep yourself earthbound by delaying the impending high. 

 It’s a high that’s inevitable though, and you have a warning on the tip of your tongue only for it to go to waste when Jeongguk makes his way down again as soon as he senses it.

 And he repeats this– alternating between rimming you tauntingly and eating you till he can tell you’re right on the edge. You can feel how he smirks and you’re sure it’s amusement that you can hear prettying up little noises he purrs. His continuous teasing has you letting out barely contained whiny keens. 

 But Jeongguk can tell you’re doing your best to behave. The brattish way about you from before is nowhere to be seen. Not even when he feels your body slump for the nth time, panting from another almost-orgasm he takes away.   

 “You’re gonna cum aren’t you?” Jeongguk wonders aloud, pulling back a little to see how your pussy clenches in anticipation.

 He hears you swallow, flicks his eyes up to watch as you bring a hand up to tug a little at your hair. It trembles a little as you bring it down to his locks.

 “I- yeah… just… please…” You tug, pulling him to your clit by the crown of his head and holding him there with both hands. “Just stay there, please…”

 You can’t help the way that you start to roll and grind against his face. Jeongguk’s lips and his tongue rubbing against you repeatedly with the up and down motion of your hips, and his nose bumping your clit a little every now and again. 

 His hands dig into your waist like he’s trying to pull you closer, suffocate himself with your cunt. It’s when he shakes his head with subtle little side to side motions over your clit that your pleasure peaks with your legs shaking before they’re closing around his head.

 You cum hard and quietly, hushed ‘don’t stop’s and ‘keep going’s tumbling from your lips as you hold his mouth against you until you can’t take it anymore. You use one hand to pull him away by the hair, your other coming down to press against your still pulsing pussy. 

 With the hold you still have in his hair, you deliriously guide and maneuver him upwards. You’re still trying to catch your breath, so the quiet awed, ‘Whoa…’ you voice sounds airy

 The position you’ve got Jeongguk in now has him straddling you across your upper torso with strong thighs caging you in. His cock bobbing a little right in your face. Heavy and flushed, the tip an angry shade of pink and shiny with precum. It’s instinctive when you reach out with your small hand to wrap around the base. And again, something awe-filled tumbles from your mouth.

 “You’re so hard…” 

 The words float past your lips in the form of a breathless whisper, your lashes fluttering as your gaze jumps from his cock to his face. Your hand strokes lightly, just your fingertips running over the warm, silky skin. 

 “Missed you,” Jeongguk says with a tiny, unabashed shrug. As if that’s explanation enough for the state he’s in.

 He smiles with his bottom lip tugged between his teeth and you smile back.

 The pad of your thumb rubs at the underside of the crown when a drop of precum leaks, massaging it in messily. “Can I use my mouth?”

 “Mhmm,” Jeongguk sounds, not trusting his voice enough to not shake.

 You begin by placing weighted kisses along his length, starting at the base till your lips pucker around the slit. The heady taste of precum makes you purr, moaning softly. Jeongguk’s hips cant forward, and when you glance up you can see how his head has rolled back.

 Smiling at how affected he already is by the smallest things, you run your teeth over the sensitive head. You anticipate the hiss that Jeongguk sucks in. Your tongue swirls around to soothe and to taste before your mouth opens to swallow. 

 The tip of his cock barely grazes the back of your throat before Jeongguke is pulling his hips back and choking just slightly on the whiny gasp that gets caught in his throat. He threads a hand in your hair and tugs you off. 

 Your forehead is resting against his lower tummy, and you giggle a little before you kiss at the slight jutting of his hipbone. His cock throbs, and he groans.

 “What’s wrong?” you ask, smiling into him.

 You can feel his fingers massage lightly at your scalp, and when you glance up at him, he’s looking down at you, lovesick as he rolls his eyes at your playfully. 

 “Go slow, okay?” he asks softly, “Tease me a little?”

 Closing your eyes briefly as you let the sound of his moonstruck voice wash over you, you kiss sweetly at his hip once more before giving small kitten licks to the warm, flushed skin of his cock. He sighs like he’s in love.

 “Like this?” you ask, coquettishly. 

 Jeongguk nods when you look up at him with your mouth open and the tip of your tongue flicking lightly.

 “Lick the tip,” he whispers while he gets a hold of himself and guides it to your mouth. 

 You keep your eyes on him as you slowly drag the flat of your tongue with long licks.

 “Good… that’s good baby…” he says airily.

 Jeongguk glances down his nose at you for just a moment longer before his head is rolling back, and he’s moaning. His little sounds are quiet, but they’re almost constant. And you’re really not doing much, just licking softly at his frenulum, but you can already feel how his cock is getting stiffer, can see how the muscles in his tummy tense and untense… like he’s already getting close.

 Kissing the crown, you pull away, stroking over him lazily. Squeezing at the base when he kicks in your palm. “Already?” you ask gently.

 Jeongguk’s eyes are squeezed shut, like he’s trying to keep his composure, but at your choice of words, he laughs lightly. “Yes, already,” he tells you, pointedly. “That’s why I said to go slow.”

 Slow is good for you. Slow lets you take it all in. Take all of him in. 

 Slow lets you tease drop after drop of precum out; lets you coax your name from Jeongguk’s lip over and over again until you’re sure you’ll hear his lovechants in your dreams tonight. Slow lets you memorize the way that his hands twitch wherever they touch you, how he gasps when your tongue does something that feels extra nice, how he whines when you bring your free hand up and roll his balls in your palm. 

 He’s a bit predictable, endearingly so with the blush on his cheeks as he urges the hand toying with his balls a little farther back. You smile to yourself as you touch him, rubbing at his taint and taking a moment to just watch his face. 

 Jeongguk’s eyes are shut, mouth just barely parted. His brows pinch just slightly when you inch your touch farther back and the cinched muscle clenches briefly under your fingertips, before he relaxes. It’s light and hazy when he whispers, “Yeah, baby…”

 The light circles you’re tracing around Jeongguk’s hole have his cock throbbing. You have to wrap your lips around the head to keep him still enough to taste and properly tease, sucking with tiny bobs of your head as you drink down everything he leaks. 

 “I– ___, oh my god–” Jeongguk pants, looking down at you, like he can’t believe you or your mouth, can’t believe how good it feels to have you again. 

 You hum, lips still wrapped around the tip of his cock as you smile up at him as best you can. His chest expands with a sharp inhale when you press your fingers a littler firmer against his hole.

 “Want me to put them in?” you ask between the soft open-mouthed kisses you press to his cock.

 The sound that Jeongguk lets out makes your kisses cease and has you sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. Your thighs rub together, and your pussy is needy between them.  

 Jeongguk’s never done it before, at least not fully and with someone else. But the thought alone is almost enough to make him finish. It would be a first for you and him, together. Something he’s been wanting, craving.

 He’s still trying to get his thoughts in order when you prompt him with a patient, ‘Hmm?’. 

 “I- No, no–” he ends up saying, “Just– just play with me.”

 It’s sighed, laced with lust and contentment. Having you right now, just playing as he said, is more than enough for him. The anticipation does feel nice though, hot and sweet like a whispered promise of next time. Jeongguk wonders if you’ll ruin him. 

 “You just want me to play?” you ask, “You don’t want to cum?”

 And Jeongguk’s sure you will. Ruin him, that is. If you haven’t already.

 Your voice comes out lovily teasing, and your hands stay busy while you look up at him, eyes big and so pretty. Lips glossy with spit, maybe a little bit of his precum. 

 “Not– not yet?” 

 Jeongguk’s voice sounds unsure in your ears, and his actions contradict his words when you bring your lips to his leaking tip. His hips roll forward seemingly on their own accord, the most sensitive part of his cock rubbing against your tongue that you’ve pillowed underneath the crown. 

 A choked little whine falls from his open mouth before his head is lulling back and his hands are coming to your hair. Humming, you suction your lips around the head and bring the hand you don’t have busy to his hips, urging him to keep rocking his hips, slow so you can keep the pressure from your tongue constant. 

 “Oh my god– baby… baby–” Jeongguk moans, his gaze back on you. His brows furrowed and arched up, his mouth agape. 

 Under your touch, you can feel his muscles tense. How his breaths come out huffed and strained. How he sometimes tries to pull his hips away before he pushes them in like he rethought it, maybe like he never meant to. How no matter how hard he tries to keep from doing it, the stalling pace of his hips picks up.

 And you can tell he’s going to cum. 

 He keeps muttering these fucked out little whispers of your name, of baby, of my baby. Almost like they’re warnings, maybe pleas. But not pleas for you to stop, or tease him anymore. You can hear the difference, can feel it in the way he touches you. Can taste it on your tongue with every heavy drop of precum that he’s leaking.  

 It’s like a string snaps in him, when he groans something deep and dissonant and his hips stop all together and his hold in your hair turns almost painful as he uses his grip to work your mouth over his cock.

 “Yeah,” he breathes, “Don’t fucking stop… Gonna make me fucking cum–”

 His cock is throbbing in your mouth before he even finishes his sentence. Coating your tongue in so many thick, hot shots of white. You hum, moving your fingers from massaging his taint so that you can roll his balls in your palm. 

 Jeongguk’s hand is shaking a little when he brings it down to cup your face, when he gently pulls you off him. His cock still fat and bobbing with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He guides your gaze to his.

 He’s bracing himself above you with his forearm against your headboard, looking down at you a little sweaty and so flushed. Chest rising and falling with deep breaths. He’s got a little smile on his face when he runs the pad of his thumb over the plump of your bottom lip. Your mouth opens instinctively. The little smile on his lips grows before he’s biting it down.

 His thumb presses down on the fleshy muscle, and you naturally let your lips wrap around it.

 “Good girl,” he says, softly.

 His words are tangible, and you close your eyes and you smile as you just let the praise glide over your body. It’s almost like you can feel each letter press a kiss into your skin. 

 Jeongguk’s a copycat as he too presses kisses here and there while he resituates himself. Going from straddling your ribcage to finding his home between your legs. Until you manuver him once more. He’s still home, between your legs, but on his back with you straddling him now.

 Jeongguk doesn’t complain at the manhandling. Just looks up at you, rubs little nonsensical patterns just above the creases of your thighs. 

 “Can we do it now?”

 His laugh is bright and loud at first before he gets a hold of himself, but he’s still smiling as he lets his shining eyes and his hands wander. His fingertips trialing over your skin until his gets his hands to your tits. His thumbs flick over your nipples while he hums, amused. 

 “Now you have to wait for me to be ready again,” he tells you conversationally, still teasing you.

 You pout playfully, letting your own fingers explore, tracing the line of ink where his sleeve comes to an end on his shoulder. “So boring, Gguk,” you jest.

 He scrunches his nose at you. “Why do you think I told you, ‘not yet’?”

 Rolling your eyes, you reposition yourself; less over his torso and more over his hips. “Well,” you start, lowering your pussy down to where his cock lays flat on his tummy, “Waiting doesn’t have to be boring.” You drag your cunt over his still plump, but not-quite hard cock. 

 One of his hands quickly jerks down to get a hold of your hips and stop your movements. He hisses.. 

 He says something about how he never said it had to be boring as you reach between your bodies and get a hold of his half-hard cock. Goes on about how he literally just came and how he needs a second to recuperate as you bring the head to your wet opening. 

 “Can I?” you ask vaguely, interrupting him.

 He doesn’t say anything more, just gives you the littlest nod and he squeezes his eyes shut while you squeeze him into you. He’s not there yet, but he’s still sensitive and its still a tight fit.

 Jeongguk looks down his chest to where you’re sitting prettily on his slowly hardening cock. His eyes roll back slightly before he’s scrubbing one of his hands over his face. “You’re–”

 “Did you watch our video?” you interrupt again. 

 Stuttering a little bit, and winching some, Jeongguk uses the couple of seconds it takes for you to bring yourself down to him, to think. 

 “No, felt guilty… tried to hold out completely but ended up giving in and thinking about you…” he says, his hands finding their place at your hips.. 

 His answer isn’t what you expected but it still has you smiling softly, chest to chest, resting on your elbows, and playing with his hair. “And what did you think about?” you muse, words breathy and flirty.

 Jeongguk’s eyes instinctively dart to your curved lips. “Your mouth.”

 You scrunch your nose at him cutely as you ask, “On your cock?” 

 He gasps when you grind your hips just a little, the movement stiffening his cock up that much more. Jeongguk can feel his cheeks heat up as he shakes his head, the hands he has on your hips moving to your thighs and then back up, squeezing and making little chills crawl across your skin.  

 “On my lips…” he admits quietly, licking them. “Missed kissing you.”

 With a heart that grows fond in your chest, you lean down and give what he missed. Jeongguk sighs into your mouth, melts underneath you. He cranes his neck and the kiss deepens, his tongue slipping in between your lips. It’s not until you having him moaning softly into your mouth that you disconnect from him and make your way to his ear. 

 “Thought about you too,” you tell him, “touched myself to the thought of you missing me; wrapping your hand around your cock with me on your mind.”

 Jeongguk’s fingertips dig into the fatty part of your ass, latches his lips onto the junctre between your neck and your shoulder. He sinks his teeth in just a touch to quiet his moan. 

 The whiny moise that you let out precedes the, “I fanatasized about the way you would fuck me when you came back to me–”

 “I wanted to, but I just felt so bad–”

 “Shh,” you hush him, “Doesn’t matter now…”

 You finally make to move your hips for real this time, but lifting them has you letting out a tiny hiss of pain that’s followed by a cute, airy laugh. “Almost forgot how big you are.”

 Jeongguk’s heart was just tugging inside his chest but now his cock is throbbing inside of you. Even as he wonders if there’s been anyone since him. 

 But once you get over that first hint of pain, past the initial sting of him stretching and filling you up, the only wonder is how Jeongguk survived without you for so long. 

 The light from your blinds peaks through your hair; wild and messy and draping over your shoulder. The long strands almost act as a curtain, hiding you and Jeongguk away. Spots of sunshine come through here and there, and they hit different parts of your body as your body becomes his body. On the tip of your nose, over the curve of your breast, the tops of your thighs. 

 And Jeongguk’s knows he is so fucking lucky. Not because he gets to have you like this –warmed by his touched and sunlight– but because he gets to have it again. Because he gets another chance at having you at all, after fucking it up once already.

 “Gguk,” you pant, “I feel so good right now.” 

 You’ve gone from bouncing on his cock, to griding on it, feeling his tip rub against the deepest parts of you. Your palms are flat on his lower tummy, and when he grabs your hips, helping you move back and forth on him, your nails dig into the muscle. 

 It makes him moan, quiet like the little sounds that you can’t stop making. 

 Jeongguk knows he was basically on the verge of tears just a second ago, but he is still a man and he can’t stop himself from asking, “Who’s making you feel so good baby?”

 He can tell how fucked out and how close you are because of how easily you answer him. How being stubborn and bratty doesn’t even seem to cross your mind when you moan, “You, it’s always you.” 

 Pulling you to his chest and fucking up into your cunt is much sweeter than it probably seems. He does so to be close to you, to feel your chest against his, to feel how your body shakes as you get closer, to feel how you bury your face into his neck to try and muffle your moans and cries.

 “Yeah–” you sob into his skin, “you’re gonna make me cum– please– please, can I cum?”

 Your words come out staccato and irregular, punched out one by one by his cock as he fucks you faster. But Jeongguk doen’t say anything yet, just focuses on the slick sounds your pussy is making everytime he bottoms out, on the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of the slick, velvety heat, on how his fingers sink into your ass as he squeezes and tugs and pulls your cheeks apart to bury himself as deep as he can when he cums with you. 

 “Fuck, baby cum for me,” Jeongguk pants, his words a little rushed as he feels it all come to a head, “Cum all over my fucking cock while I cum in your pussy.”

 You don’t say anything when you cum, and neither does Jeongguk. Both cumming with nothing but gasps. Your’s sounding sweet, almost awed, as you just let your cunt squeeze and contract around Jeongguk’s cock, almost like you forgot you could cum that hard. Jeongguk’s are more guttural as his cock throbs, pulsing with each shot of cum he pumps into your pussy.

 ~~~

 “Your roommates are actually terrifying.”

 The voice makes you smile, laughing sleepily, eyes closed for just a moment longer before you turn your head to see a dishevelleddly dressed Jeongguk, holding a single glass of water in his hand. 

 He shrugs off his blazer that he’s wearing over his briefs (you’ve helped yourself to his button up), and sits next to where you’re laying down. He nudges you his foot till you sit up and take the water from him.

  It’s a content type of quiet while you both pass the glass back and forth, sharing. It only last for a minute or two before Jeongguk is clearing your throat.

 “So… what happened to your plant, hmm?”

 He must have seen the pitiful looking succulent in your living room when he went to get the water. And you know he’s just messing around and that he only said it to strike conversation and fill the silence, but still, it makes something ugly stir in your gut. 

 “You didn’t remind me,” you say, trying to literally shrug it off and give the topic a quick stop.

 But Jeongguk is giggling as he says back, “Oh, so it’s my fault?”

 “Everything is your fault.”

 It’s snappy and said with enough bitterness that Jeongguk is physically taken aback. But then he thinks and then he softens.

 “Hey,” he says gently.

 You look at him, eyes swirling with a mixture of anger and hurt. 

 Jeongguk brushes a little bit of your hair out of your face as he looks you over. “I know,” he acknowledges quietly. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am, but I hope with some time, you’ll be able to see it.”

 You frown a little before giving him a sad small smile and you bring your hand up to cup his cheek. He turns into the touch and gives your palm a soft kiss.

 “I know you’re sorry,” you tell him, “I know you are and I forgive you –my head knows that but– my heart is still sad.”

 Something about how you say it reminds Jeongguk of how young you are. But not in the way it did before. Not like your youth is a burden, or a red flag. It just reminds him that he needs to be careful with you. 

 “I know, and that’s okay… I know it’s going to take time,” Jeongguk gives you a sad, yet understanding shrug.

 And for once, it’s a good thing that time does what time is meant to. It passes and it allows things to grow; for things to heal. 

 “Speaking of time,” you say, lightheartedly trying to change the subject, “How long do I have you?”

 “As long as you want me.”

 Jeongguk’s reply is met with the most underwhelmed, flat stare you have every given him. He snorts before he says, “Till tomorrow afternoon– I have to pick up Nari.”

 His heart feels like it’s going to explode in his chest when he sees how your eyes light up at the mention of his daughter, at how you jabber on with questions about her. How has she been?, Is she talking yet?, Does she still have that narwhal?

 There’s a chance that he might regret it, but there’s also a chance that he might not. 

 So he asks, “Do you want to come with me?” 

 ~~~ 

 However long Jeongguk said it takes to get to his ex-wife’s house, all those months ago, escapes you.

 But right now, it feels like 10 years and 10 minutes all at once. 

 It’s dramatic, yes, how terribly you’ve been fidgeting in the passenger seat of the Mercedes. Even Jeongguk’s big, warm hand petting at your knee can’t quell the nerves.

 It’s making the atmosphere tense, and you feel bad when Jeongguk sounds like he’s walking on eggshells when he tells you, “Thank you for coming with me, I’m really happy you did.”

 You feel even worse when you respond with, “I don’t think I want to go to the door with you.”

 The ever-soothing hand on your leg stutters for barely a second before continuing just as it was.

 “That’s totally fine,” he assures you, eyes on the road and one hand on the steering wheel. “You don’t have to, but if you change your mind, you can. It is your choice.”

 The hand squeezes your thigh reassuringly. 

 And it’s quiet for the rest of the drive. Until Jeongguk is pulling into an empty spot in the driveway of a very big, very nice house. Right next to a Porsche. 

 “Of fucking course.”

 “___.”

 “No, you’re right,” you say, raising your hands appeasingly, “You’re right, I shouldn’t even be surprised–”

 Jeongguk interrupts you with his hands on your cheeks and his lips on your. 

 “Shut.” He gives you one kiss. “Up.” He gives you two kiss.

 His affection makes the tension in your body dissipate and your shoulders slump. “I’m sorry.”

 With his thumbs rubbing over the apples of your cheeks, he gives you a small, understanding, patient smile. Then he asks if you’re sure about not coming to the door with him because he is stupid. 

 You tell him as much as you reiterate how you do not want to go to the door and this time, Jeongguk is the one raising his hands in surrender as he exits the car.

 Leaving you alone with your thoughts.

 Should you get out of the car? Wait inside? Should you have brought Nari a gift? Will she remember you? What if she doesn’t?

 When you hear a distant, familiar baby-giggle, you end up opening the door and standing between Jeongguk’s car and Dasom’s. You feel a little dumb until you hear the pitter patter of little feet on the brick driveway. 

 “I have a surprise for you Nana,” you hear Jeongguk sing cutely.

 And you hear Nari gasp excitedly in response, even cuter.

 As the pair get closer, you can see Jeongguk’s top half over the car, how his arm is swinging back and forth because of the tiny hand that’s holding his where you can’t see.

 Nari is dressed in a black jumper dress with a long-sleeved heart-patterned shirt on underneath when she pops out from behind the car and next to her dad. Kept warm from the slight chill in the air by her knitted tights and her teeny-tiny ugg boots. She’s still round, but she’s gotten taller and you coo softly to yourself.

 But Nari hears the little noise you make and when she sees you, she stops in her tracks. Her little bobble head looking between you and Jeongguk. Then she’s tugging on her dad’s pinky that she’s got a hold of.

 “___!” she says as she nods towards you, like she’s letting Jeongguk know that you’re right there. She sounds sure, almost a little bossy. Doesn’t stutter even a second to remember you. Kind of like she never forgot you. 

 “Ah– what’s with the nodding missy?” Jeongguk tuts, then he looks at you and shakes his head exasperated yet amused. 

 Nari has the nerve to giggle, a big girl no longer brought to tears by her daddy’s scoldings. She looks up at him grinning before she shrugs, like she doesn’t know what got into her. As she raises her little shoulders, her free hand comes up too for emphasis. And gripped tightly in her little hand is her stuffed narwhal. 

 You’re happy.

~~~~~~~~~

aaaaand SCENE. omg heyyyy long time no see girlfriends <3 i hope that u think this was worth the wait but am debilitatingly scared that it did not meet ur expectations so i am hiding <3 im sorry for how long it took but it is here now n that is all my tiny hands have to offer!!  i would love to know what u thought, so please do al the things: reblog, like, comment, send an ask~~ thank u for waiting for me and for reading ily muah :*

[m4y4wasnthere]

dont be shy..

dallas x shy!reader

fic request here

warnings: holy smutt; plot is a-okay, mainly focused on establishing relationships; mention of alcohol/smoking; cursing (its dallas.)

a/n: thank u sm for the love on the last one!! this one is super cute but steamy; i think i also mightve made this one more awkward then shy, i honestly wanna rewrite this SO BADDD

not proofread

summary: of course when dallas winston finds out that the shy girl has a crush on him, it boosts the hell out of his ego. whats so wrong with him going over and having some fun teasing you about it? …until he realizes he wants more than just teasing 🌝

Dallas walks into Buck’s bar for a little get-together with the gang, not knowing they were gossiping about you.

“Oh god the puppy eyes she has for him, don’t get me started on how obvious it is.” Two-bit chuckles along with Sodapop.

“Who has puppy eyes for who?” Dallas sits next to Johnny on the other side of the table. The rest of the gang eye each other. (side eye typa way 👁️)

“You can’t be serious Dal..” Pony says slowly, a smirk slowly coming to his face. “Since when am I not serious?……..don’t answer that.” Dallas lights a cigarette and brings it to his mouth.

“Its-“ Two-bits mouth gets covered by Steve. “C’mon, why can’t I know? You guys are making me soo sad.” Dallas mocks a fake tear coming down with his finger.

“It's Y/n.” Sodapop blurts, Two-bit elbows him, and Darry facepalms, “God Soda, don’t you ever know when to keep your smart mouth shut?”

“I just couldn't keep it a secret. We all thought you knew Dally, I mean, it's painfully obvious.” Sodapop took a swing of his drink while Darry started scolding him under his breath.

“Obvious? Am I missin’ somethin’? What makes it ‘that’ obvious?” Dallas puts out his cigarette, and the gang knows he puts out an unfinished cigarette whenever he is serious. His brows furrowed as he stared hard into their eyes.

“Dal she always asks about you and she always tries to hang out with you. Do you not see the way she looks at you? She might as well be a lost puppy or somethin’ ” Johnny fidgets with a card in his hand, not looking at Dally.

“Wow Johnny-cake, even you?” Dallas scoffs, “Anything else I should know?” He puts his legs up on the table.

“Why don’t you just go ask her? If your sooo curious.” Two-Bit says sarcastically. Dallas lights a new cigarette and walks out without saying anything else.

・❥・

It was almost 1am when you heard a knock on your window. You groggily opened your eyes, rubbing them. Another set of tiny knocks went off at your window.

You got up, and the only thing you were wearing was an oversized tshirt with a shoulder cut. When you got to the window, you almost screamed.

You opened it, cursing under your breath.

“Dallas Winston, what in Irene's name are you doing here? God, I thought you were a random guy or stalker!” He climbed inside your room while you closed it slightly.

Then it suddenly hit you, Dallas Winston was inside your bedroom. Your cheeks flushed red. (thank god the lights are off)

“Do you want me to be a stalker? I can, if that's what you’re into doll.” Dallas slyly smirked as he occupied himself in your bed. You sat on the edge of the bed, not completely next to him.

“I don’t bite, c’mere.” Dallas pats next to him. You scooch a bit closer stiffly, but not at all close.

“So- um, what’re you doing here Dal..?” You stutter through your words, the situation's absurdity finally growing upon you as you become more awake.

“Jus’ hangin’ out, tell me abt ur day first.” Dallas turns to face you, removing his jacket and throwing it to the floor.

“Oh- uh-,” you found it completely inconvenient that you forgot what you did the whole day just because he looked at you a few seconds longer than the last.

You looked away from him and onto the floor, your closet, anything to keep yourself from looking at him any longer.

“My day was uh fine. I uhm went out to Buck’s earlier, uhm, oh I also was with the gang..” Every time you spoke, your voice trembled and your hands fidgeted with the end of your shirt. Dallas never looked away from you as you spoke. His gaze lingered over you, leaving you an embarrassingly shy blush-y mess.

You looked at him for a response but immediately looked away again, not expecting him to be staring at you so intently.

“Keep talking, I like your voice doll.” He scooches onto the bed fully and lays down, propping his feet up.

“Oh uh, okay..,” You mentally facepalmed. You weren’t cool at all around him, you didn’t know what to say to be able to entertain whatever he was looking for.

“After Buck’s, uh, I went to the Dingo to grab a quick bite and uhm, I just went home after that. Nothing too, uh, special.” You turned to face him more but couldn’t allow yourself to look up past his waist.

“Don’t say that doll, everythin’ about ya is special.” He takes a cig out and lights it, the soft warm fire illuminating his sharp features.

Sitting down makes you way more nervous than it needs to be, as dorky as it is, you decide to start tidying up your (already) clean room.

“Really, Dal. Why did you come over? I mean, not that I mind of course! Or anything, I just mean since um, you don’t usually come knocking on my window,” you mindlessly stumbled over your words while moving some makeup around on your vanity.

“I heard some things ‘bout you. Just wanted to see if they were true.” He blew smoke towards the window, looking you up and down slowly.

“Oh, really? What’d ya hear? Good things? I hope?” You lightly chucked as you turned around, leaning against the wood.

He put out the cigarette on a cute white ash pan you had on your dresser and slowly walked over to you.

Your posture straightened, trying to put a respectable amount of distance between the two of you.

He leaned in, putting his arms on the vanity on either side of you, trapping you against it.

“I heard you have a bit of a crush on me doll, is that true?” His eyes flickered over every detail of your face, he smirked mischievously.

“Who told you that?” You turned your head away from him. “Was it Soda? Two-bit?” Your heart was racing and your body was getting very hot.

“You're not even going to deny it? Wow, I didn't know you could be so forward doll." He grabbed your chin back to face him. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“No thats not what I meant, No- I do like you, wait no I don’t, I just-“

He leaned forward and kissed you passionately. He put his hands around your waist, pulling you towards him. Your hands wrapped themselves around his neck in response.

You broke away with heavy breathing, his eyes never left your soft lips.

“You don’t gotta be so shy doll, what if I said I liked you too?” He licked his lips before guiding you towards the bed.

He kissed you lightly again before pushing you onto your back, his muscular form looking heavenly with the moon shining behind him.

He climbed on top of you and starting kissing your neck, getting more aggressive with the time passing.

“I want you Dal.” You whispered. He stopped to look up at you.

“If you want me so bad, then take off your cute little panties, slut.” He continued to leave hickeys down your neck.

You squirmed underneath him, struggling to hold in your moans, scratching helplessly at your thighs to take the underwear off.

He grabbed your breasts and started sucking on your nipples. A moan escaped from your lips which only made him become rougher. He swirled your buds in his mouth, nibbling onto them and leaving them each have their own purple mark.

“I’m gonna mark you like this everytime I see you. Your mine doll.”

He kissed his way down your stomach towards your heat. He stopped for a moment to look back at you. Without breaking eye contact he ran his tongue from the tip of your core to your stomach.

This made you increasingly squirm against him.

“Dal..” you whined as he softly licked at your folds. He was teasing you and you couldn’t take it.

“Please Dal, make me feel good, please.”

He spread your legs further apart with his hands as he started to suck your clit aggressively. You could feel your back arching subconsciously, his tongue moving along your folds and in out out your hole.

“Let me spell my name out for you. So you know who you belong too.”

He dragged his tongue throughout your hole, trying to spell out his name.

He pulled away with a nasty grin at how disheveled you looked. Your hair was in a mess, your chest was heaving up and down, your eyes were hooded with complete lust.

“I need to fuck you doll, are you ready?” He whispered as he sloppily kissed your body.

“I’m ready Dal, I want you to fuck me so bad.”

He positioned himself between your legs, you wrapped them behind his back. He slowly inserted himself into you, staying still for a moment for you to get comfortable.

“God Y/n, your pussy feels so damn good.”

He held your wrists beside your head as he started to thrust into you.

His thick cock was the only thing you could think about. The way it filled you so nicely. The way Dallas looked hammering into you, your broken moans couldn’t stop.

He started to become rougher with each thrust, faster, harder, and his arms snaked around your stomach, pulling you into him.

You clawed at his back full of pleasure, your mind becoming numb as his thrusts were becoming sloppier the more time he spent inside of you.

“Dallas I’m gonna cum-“ you said before moaning loudly against him.

“Come with me baby, I’m about to come.”

He thrusted as fast as he could in you before slowly haltering to a stop. You guys breathed heavily against each other, sweat coating both of your guy’s skin.

His eyes met yours as he pulled out of you, slowly unrolling the condom and tossing it in a nearby bin. He laid down next to you, his body at an angle so he could see your face.

“Dally, I-“ he stopped you with a kiss. A slow and gentle kiss, while he traced the side of your body.

“You’re not just some one-night stand, I promise or whatever,” he whispered while looking at you. You softly smiled at him.

He pulled you into a close cuddle as you guys slowly fell asleep.

・❥・

[mooonjin]

A Little Needy

Notes: ayyy first miguel drabble out now! yes hes very hot and very very veyr very very aattractive and has very big titties in the header. im accepting reuwests for him now by the way if u wanna pop into my inbox!11!!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x f!reader

Summary: Miguel happily consented to you taking his virginity but he didn't realise how experienced you actually were. It's safe to say the 'M' in 'Miguel' stands for messy...

Warnings/Tags: 18+ work!! minors shoo flyyyyyyy - piv (wear protection cus they didnt), losing v-card mentions, no y/n mentions, implied f!reader but i dont use pronouns (i think), sub!Miguel, fantasy talk, cowgirl position, lowkey a short drabble sorry <3 ⁠— tell me if I've missed anything!

"Tell me, have you ever fantasised about me?" You asked Miguel.

His breath became ragged and laboured, each inhale was a desperate attempt to try answer you. The rhythmic pounding of your hips as you came up and down drowned out any last thoughts.

You simply watched him, his chest tightened and his gasps of air grew more intense at the sensation of your tight cunt. He was struggling to keep up with your pace despite laying there for you.

"Answer me." You mentioned once more. However, you smirked, enjoying this affect you had on him. A sheen of sweat formed on his forehead and he inhaled, finally being able to answer.

"Um y-yes.. I have." He finally whimpers out, sounding a little embarrassed. This was his first time, of course he was. He'd never ever think in his life he was here, probably about to share what he imagined with you.

You smirk, "What have you thought about?" The pace of yours hips continue to catch him off guard, he nearly forgot you were even talking to him.

He moaned out, "I've thought... I've thought about us d-doing, hngh, a lot of.. things-" He scrunched his eyes shut at the feeling of your warm cunt.

You couldn't help but smirk again. You knew an exact answer wasn't going to escape him, after all, you seemed to have completely invaded his mind, "Like?"

Miguel gulps, grunting every time your hips met his pelvis, "L-Like.. the stuff you'd expect, ungh, people to-to fantasise about." He slid his hands to your thighs, savouring your soft skin.

Ah, he was going to play this game. To tease him, you slowed your movements, watching as his neck craned up to wonder why you stopped.

"I want to hear it from you." Your cunt was gently clenching around his cock, making him gulp every more and then. You gently rocked back and forth, letting out soft exhales from the feeling of being filled.

"Oh- okay," Miguel looks up at you, his eyes wandering over your figure and mainly the bra you had on, "I uh, imagine you.. on top of me." He groaned, your warm cunt keeping his cock snug.

"Mhm?"

"And you making noises... your heavenly sounds of you enjoying yourself." He bites his lips, already imagining it himself. He sits up, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone and tries to pump his cock in and it of you again.

"Yeah?" You taunt, pushing his hips down, keeping him still.

He seemed more nervous now with his words, "Can you please move, I can't take it..."

"Not until you tell me your fantasies." You smirk.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, his cock pulsating inside you desperately. You slowly started to bring yourself up the length of his cock to tease him and let out a choked whimper in response.

You pitied him as you slammed your hips back down onto his, causing his eyes to shoot open and strained moan to escape his throat. He felt like his lungs were suddenly punctured.

He groaned with a mix of pain and pleasure. 

With your beautiful figure straddling him, Miguel swallows lightly, his face turning red. He was too needy, his hands making their way to your hips to hold you in place. His hands gently fondled your plush. Miguel wants to thrust his cock in and out of you but you wouldn't let him.

He didn't imagine being the submissive one when he planned on losing his v-card.

But he'd be submissive for you.

Only for you.

-

Post-Notes: what a suprise that the first miguel thingy i put iut is smut!!!!! also my requests are opne now as well as an updated taglist form! :D

~ ~ ~

my taglist form!

[mentally-gone002]

never too late for solace

summary: peter seeks comfort with his best friend in her bedroom. 

a/n: yes i’m aware of how much i’m active, but im booooored (im just a girl🎀) 😫😫😫 anyway… 🌝 this has been in the good ole drafts for a long ass time and u decided to finish it and get her out there!! pls enjoy😭😭😭

warnings: blood

———————————————————————

it was late. 

the new york sky was dark outside my partially opened window, but my room was lit up. the lamp glowing on my bedside table while i glanced from an open notebook to my laptop. homework at midnight felt different than doing it at any other time, which is why i do it this late. that and because i can’t sleep. 

my window moved upwards and i jumped in surprise of the slight scraping sound interrupting my silent solitude. 

looking up i watched peter, my best friend, slowly climb through the window he’d opened. he was slow moving, quiet and panting. sweat made his brown curls stick to his forehead.

i didn’t say anything as he closed the window and turned to me, staring with his brown bloodshot eyes from across the room. my gut told me something was wrong. 

“it’s late.” i murmured, glancing away to the door, making sure it was closed. 

peter hummed, walking to my bed and sat down. “i know.” peter whispered shakily. 

my lips pursed into a line. in a matter of seconds my book and laptop were closed and thrown to the side. “is something wrong, pete?” i was sitting parallel with him now. 

he shook his head while he stared at the floor. “uncle ben.” peter whispered. i watched his leg bounce up and down quickly, something he did when he was anxious. i reached out to stop him with a hand on his knee. his leg stopped moving. 

“what about uncle ben?” i wondered gently, leaning close to him and watching his profile. 

peter squeezed his eyes shut and pursed his lips. “he’s gone. he’s gone, and it’s my fault.” big tears began to fall from his eyes. 

my heart ached all of a sudden. seeing him like this was rare. the only time i’d ever seen him cry was when he’d fallen after he began skateboarding, back in fourth grade. he skinned his knee pretty badly.

“come here.” it was the only thing i had to say before peter turned his head and hid his face in the curve of my neck. he breathed shaky against my skin and i wrapped an arm around his back. my hand rested on his shoulder, gently squeezing the muscle there. 

my eyes drifted down to peter’s hands and i really focused on them for the first time since he was here. they were stained red and held together in a firm grip. “is that…” i swallowed thickly, trying to think of what he could have been through before finishing my sentence. “is that blood, peter?” 

peter unclasped his hands and rested them palm up. “yes.” he murmured, body shivering. 

“who’s is it?” i asked even though i knew the answer and dreaded hearing it. 

he sniffled, only nodding and i felt my heart break. “uncle ben’s.” he was there when ben died. 

my other arm wrapped around him and my fingers laced together so that i wouldn’t let him go. i rocked back and forth slowly as peter cried. he tried to stay collected but he couldn’t, and i didn’t blame him. i felt his tears soak into the fabric of my shirt as time went on until he went silent, the only sound he made was the occasional deep intake of air. 

“peter?” i dropped my arm holding him that was across his front. he hummed in response to tell me he was listening. “do you wanna sleep here? i can run you a shower and find some clean clothes for you.” i asked. he hummed as a way of saying ‘yes’ with an added nod. i gently kissed the top of his head with the brief turn of my head before i let him go so that i could stand up and take him across the hall to the shower. 

————————————————————————

when peter came back to my room he was in the plaid pants i found him and a baggy long sleeved shirt. his hair was wet and he was staring at the floor. 

“hey,” i caught his attention with a gentle voice. my lips went up in an offered smile. “let’s get some sleep okay?” i asked. 

luckily he returned the smile and crawled into my bed, pulling the comforter up to his nose. he closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply. “will you stay with me? i don’t wanna be alone.” peters voice was muffled by the comforter but i understood. 

“yeah, i’m staying.” i climbed into my bed beside him. “you want the light on or off?” 

“on.” he was quick to answer. he kept his eyes closed and the comforter to his nose, but one of his hands snaked under the covers to find mine. he didn’t interlace our fingers but just held onto me, like he wanted to make sure i really wasn’t going to leave. i squeezed his hand reassuringly, turning onto my side to face him. 

peter opened his eyes to look at me. he smiled and moved closer. “i was bitten by a spider at oscorp.” he whispered, eyes closed as he said it. 

i squeezed his hand. “so something did happen when you went.” 

he nodded. “yeah. it made me… different. i can hear super well, see better… dodge punches.” he murmured slowly. “i can stick to walls.” 

i nodded once his voice stopped. “that’s why you’re not wearing contacts. isn’t it.” 

“how’d you know i stopped?” 

“you haven’t been blinking harshly or rubbing your eyes as much.” i smirked as he opened his eyes. he smiled faintly back at the mention that i noticed this much. “but that’s strange. you have heightened sensed. the sticking to walls is strange.” 

he watched as i adjusted my position slightly. “yeah… it’s weird, i don’t know how to control it. all the keys on my keyboard stuck to my fingers this morning and i shattered my front door earlier tonight.” peter sighed and looked away. “you can’t tell anyone about this.” 

“i won’t. i promise.” i assured. “and if you need help with your… weirdness caused by the spider, i’m here.” my hand squeezed his again as we stared at each others eyes. “and im sorry… about uncle ben.” he smiled a bit and then closed his eyes. 

he whispered, “i’m sorry too” and released my hand before rolling to face away from me. 

i tuned over as well to face in the opposite direction and my eyes fluttered shut. “love you, peter.” 

“love you.” he whispered through a soft laugh. 

we said it all the time, just because. i felt like he needed to hear it more tonight than he did any other day. 

[prettypinkporkchop]

Love love love u 🥹 can u do one where She doesn’t have a good relationship with her family but embry and his mom love having her over

LOVE LOVE LOVE YOU TOO!

"I think it's about time for you to move out. You're an adult now." Your mom sighs, leaning on your doorframe and crossing her arms.

You look up to her from your bed and nod in agreement. "Yeah. I've gathered that. Been trying but it's fucking hard." You spit with attitude.

She rolls her eyes and walks in. She grabs the vase of flowers that Embry gave you and drops it on the floor. It shatters everywhere. You lift to your feet and start fuming. You fists clench in anger.

"Why would you do that?!" You scream.

She shrugs her shoulders with a smirk and then goes to your door. Before she shuts it, she says, "Clean that up."

You run after her, but your dad steps in front of you. "Kid, calm down." He grabs your shoulders and looks you in the eyes.

You shrug him off of you and try to hold back tears. "Look, we are just tired of helping you so much. You work now. And what, Embry? He's a man. Maybe he should get out of that weird gang of his, get a real job, and his own house." He chuckles.

And with that, you've had enough. You walk to your room and fill up your purse with stuff you need. You run out of the house, ignoring your parent's questions. You get inside your car THAT YOU PAY FOR, and drive off.

Tiffany absolutely adores you. It is just her and Embry. Embry plans on buying this really adorable house not far from his mother. Obviously, it's not a quick process. You stay there more than you do at your own house. Tiffany has even offered you a place to live. You've turned them down because you're not sure how Embry would feel about moving in with him after just a year.

You knock on their door, and Embry answers it. "Baby! You good?" He looks over your face once he sees the sadness.

"No. I'm not sure how long I can take this." You fall into his arms and sob.

He holds onto you and rubs your arm. He slides down slowly to the ground, holding you in his crossed legs. He leaves kisses on your head. "My sweet baby, I love you. Can you please just stay here?" He asks for the first time.

You look up at him with red eyes and cheeks. You're surprised he asked. It's only been Tiffany and you've figured he wasn't ready for that move yet.

"Embry, are you sure?" You sniffle.

He smiles and holds your cheek. "Baby, the moment I imprinted, there was no way I could lose you. I would've married you on the spot." He says.

You grab onto his neck and kiss him softly. He kisses you back before pulling away. "Mom's coming." He whispers.

The front door opens all the way, and you look up to see Tiff. "Hey, come inside. You're letting the bugs in." She says. She grabs a hold of your arm, lifting you up and pulling you to her chest. "C'mon baby. I'll make you a plate of dinner." She cooes.

You nod your head and slowly let her go. Embry wraps an arm around your waist, softly taking a squeeze at your love handle.

You guys sit at the table and eat the food Tiff made.

"Holy shit, this is so good." You say with a mouthful.

She bats her eyelashes and leans into you. "Thank you, sweet girl." She giggles. She moves back into her chair and then eyes the both of you. "So, when's the wedding?" She smirks.

"Mother!" Embry laughs and then grabs your hand.

"That's a great question." You face Embry.

He looks back at you with a smirk. "Soon." He says.

"I LOVE having you over, y/n. Honestly, if Embry ever makes you upset, tell me. I will actually disown him." She laughs.

You burst into laughter, too, and Embry picks up a piece of his food and throws it at his mom.

After dinner, you guys chill in the living room. Watching bits and pieces of Coraline.

"Y/n, I'm serious! You're more than welcome to live here. And when Embry gets that house, it's just you two!" She says, setting down her phone and lifting the small blanket over her arms.

"At this point, I think I will. I can't even thank you enough for everything you do for me. I love you." You lean into her body and hold her tight.

"You're my favorite. I love you too." She giggles while looking at a glaring Embry.

"Do you need help packing, baby?" Embry asks.

"It would be appreciated." You smile at him.

You go home that night and sleep there for the last time, planning on waking up and packing.

"Hey, I made breakfast." Your mom says while flickering your light to wake you up.

"Okay." You groan and pull the covers over your head.

"Oh yeah, also, I'm borrowing your car today. Mine broke down. I have to get to work." Your mom says.

You sir up and stare at her like she's stupid. "Hell no, you're not. I pay for that, and I have plans today."

She rolls her eyes and slams your door shut. "Fucking brat." You hear her yell.

Bitch ended up taking your car anyway. You call Embry.

"She's gone and took my car. Can you come over and help me pack?" You ask.

"Yes, baby. Coming now." He says. You can hear him shuffling and then keys dangling.

"Also, drop me off at the nursing home. I'm grabbing my car from her." You laugh.

He chuckles at your plan. "Bet." He says.

You don't have much in your room besides clothes and some random trinkets. You've got it all packed in two backpacks, a duffle bag, and some crammed in Embry's truck. You two hit the road to the nursing home.

He drives through the parking lot, finding your car and stopping. "How are you going to get the key?" He asks looking at you.

"Easy. She leaves them in the console like a dumbass. I've always told her she's gonna get them locked inside one day." You smirk.

You get in your car and drive off. Embry follows behind you. You drive to his house and see that Tiffany is gone. She's at work or grocery shopping. But Quil and Jacob step out of the house with their hands in their pockets.

You step out and look at them with confusion. "Is there a party here?" You laugh.

"Nope! Here for support and to help unpack." Quil smiles.

You walk up and hug both of them. "Thanks, guys."

Embry walks up and stands beside you. He softly grabs your chin to make you look up at him. He presses his lips on yours. You kiss him back and grab his hair. He pulls away and Quil and Jacob start gagging.

"Let's get to unpacking." He softly pats your bottom.

YUP YUP! I HOPE THIS WAS OKAY?! BE HONEST?

[angsthology]

Pay Attention to Things That Most People Ignore ☆ LS2

logan sargeant is most definitely not most people. it was time he started learning how

characters/pairings; daughter of poseidon!reader, chiron, mr. d, son of apollo!logan, theo (oc), son of athena!oscar.

warnings; monsters, typical pjo-type violence, logan is hopeless but that’s okay! some chb innacurracy sorry i havent read the books in a while, err very rushed writing im sorry, LAWD this is a mess i tell u 😭 perhaps i hate it — 3k words.

a/n; is the title... an all-american bitch lyric? yes. why? im not good and titles and i went to that song in instinct... for no reason. also this was based on a request — though i do admit its a little bit different as i would (hopefully) be making a part 2 hehe. by now im realizing how this title prob has nothin to do with the story

Over the years, she’s come to accept her life. Did it hurt when it felt like her entire life ended? Of course. Does it still hurt when she turns on the television to see them basically rubbing it on her face? —Whatever.

In theory, she probably could’ve gotten away with it had she not been a daughter of one of the big three—thanks a lot, dad. —but it was proven one too many times that it was not safe for her or any of the other kids. If it didn’t put anyone else’s life at risk, she would’ve disobeyed her mother, she really would (she was a child, she really hasn’t grasped the full concept of what other people would feel).

But, you know, oh well.

It’s sixteen years later and she still has that lingering grudge in the back of her head as the screen plays another Grand Prix — another Grand Prix she could’ve probably been a part of.

She tried, she really tried so hard to forget about it, to let go of it, but again, it was proven to be way too hard to let go of something she had an actual chance of, an actual good chance.

Though it might be hard to let go, she couldn’t really complain much about the life she actually had now.

Sure, it gets pretty lonely sometimes being a forbidden child, there weren’t exactly much of them (that are known and living at camp). But she had everyone else, despite practically being an only child at camp, to her everyone else there were her little siblings—of course, that probably has something to do with the fact that she was the oldest camper and the one who has been there longest.

When she heard a set of the all-too-familiar clops her heart dropped from its current fast-paced beating.

She quickly closed your laptop shut, cringing when you heard how loud of a sound it had made. That was it. She didn’t even try hiding her disappointment in herself. She slowly emerged from under the blanket with her lips tightly-wound shut, bracing herself with whatever the Centaur will have to say, her mind playing a quick telepathic farewell to her laptop.

“Hello, Y/N.”

She sighed, “Chiron.”

“Where and how?”

She swallowed the pre-existing nerves in her throat, “Mr. D.”

He hummed in response, so she continued.

“A pack of Heineken and two bottles of Jack Daniels.”

“Hm, good picks.” She responded lowly under her breath with a small ‘yeah’ as Chiron walked closer to the head of her bed near the bed-side table—his hooves making clopping noises each step.

The silence was taking too long to her liking so she just went to get it over with, “So, you’re gonna take it away from me?” she paused, then mumbling under her breath for herself, “—it’s probably another Red Bull win, anyway.”

Apparently, it was loud enough for the Centaur to hear, making him chuckle.

Surprisingly, he didn’t mention anything else about the laptop, “Who do you support?”

Hearing the question quickly made her look up from her fidgeting hands to see the smile on his face, she screwed her brows in confusion as she continues to look at Chiron for—something. Then, realizing that he was still waiting for an answer, she shook her head.

“Uhm—well, uh—”

“You think that Lando will ever get a win?”

That seemed to loosen her up, “Ugh, Gods, I hope. I’m getting exhausted over here—you know, sometimes I really wish I could ask the Oracle about it.”

He chuckled then which made her crack a smile.

When it died down, Chiron looked at her smiling face. He couldn’t help but frown a little, he knew how she felt about racing, he knew how she still feels about it.

“Y/N.”

She looks up at him, “Yeah?”

“So, I am aware that your birthday is nearing…”

“I mean… why wouldn’t you be? I’m here all-year-round.”

Chiron cleared his throat at her interruption, giving her a look.

“Sorry.”

He acknowledged and continued, “I am also aware that it lines up with a certain event…”

She raised an eyebrow it that, almost guessing what that said ‘event’ was.

“So,” he stopped, initially had her thinking he was just pausing but when he left out the door of her cabin she raised her hands as if saying ‘what gives?’

Seconds passed and it seemed like Chiron wasn’t going to come back any time soon so instead she stumbled off of her bed to quickly catch up to the Centaur that was headed to a building—the girl almost caught up to him, almost following him into the building but he was already back out in a good few seconds, stopping her right in front of the set of stairs, raising both her hands in question once more, “You just left. ‘So’, what?”

“I have it arranged that you will be attending the Miami Grand Prix.” He smiled as he handed her a lanyard.

She swore her eyes looked like it could’ve popped out of their sockets in a matter of seconds. She couldn’t believe what she was holding; a paddock pass. She couldn’t believe Chiron had done this for her considering how careful of a man (well, half-man) he is especially with her being a forbidden child. This was about to turn into the best birthday yet.

When she looked up to the smiling Chiron, her mouth still hung open in shock but her arms immediately wrapped around the man’s body in a bone-crushing hug.

She didn’t know how many ‘thank you’s that spilled out of her mouth but next thing she knew he was hugging her back with a chuckle escaping his lips.

After a few more ‘thank you’s from her, she pulled away smiling at him, “I thought you’d rather keep me here forever, why now?”

He cleared his throat, “Well, you are turning twenty-one, not many of you reach that kind of age—don’t tell them I said that—so I’d like to make it a bit more special.”

Still smiling, she looked at the paddock pass in her hand again, “You don’t know how much I appreciate this, Chi. Thank you, again.”

Being there felt… odd… unnatural.

She always thought if she were ever walking through the paddocks she would be walking as a driver.

What was even more odd was she felt her senses tingling, like she was being watched.

It was a bustling crowded place with many more interesting people compared to her, so it was weird to her that she felt like she was being watched of all people.

But alas, she brushed it off. It didn’t feel like anything bad—if it were, she would know—so she’s just going to have to save that thought for later.

She had to remind herself why she’s here; daydream in real-time of what could’ve been.

Yeah, she weren’t really keen on letting that go.

That is, until she was into her head she failed to notice the person—and group of people that came with said person—she was running into.

Before she knew it, a strong arm was holding her back with too much force for her liking, the action itself almost kicking in her self defense instinct until the person she did bump into pushed the hand away.

He was now talking to her, she assumed, but she was too focused on the person who had pushed her away.

Something about him felt… off. He was what she would count as freakishly huge for a normal human being, her eyes couldn’t help but recalculate the large man over and over until eventually the person that has been trying to get her attention snaps her out of it.

“Sorry, that’s Theo, he’s like that. I swear he doesn’t mean any harm.”

The scowl she hadn’t realized that made it’s way to her face slowly dropped as she slowly move her gaze to the person that was talking to her.

When their eyes met, she swore she saw a flash of something pass by his expression.

“Yeah,” she finally let go of this ‘Theo’ person and found her words, “Sorry I bumped into you.”

“That’s fine.” There was a brief silence across them until he cleared his throat, “I’m Logan, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know. You drive for Williams.” She replied flatly.

He cleared his throat again, scanning her for the shortest moment, “Do I know you?”

She looked to his eyes again with a small squint. “Most likely not. Good luck, bye.”

Before he could say anything else she was already speed-walking away. And for some odd reason, Logan found himself watching her walk away before getting pulled away himself just in the same time as the girl turned around to give a watchful eye.

It was getting annoying. This was supposed to be a weekend to enjoy but she could not help but feel that uneasiness creeping up on her. Over the years she had somewhat mastered the ability—well more the ability mastering her—of sensing bad things, whether that was events or creatures alike.

So, to simply put that together, that’s how she found herself sneaking around the Williams garage. Not hospitality, garage.

From years of quests here and there, many hours of weapons training, and not to mention capture the flag schemings with other campers, she had mastered the skill of being sneaky. It really did work well in her favor.

What she didn’t expect was to be completely entranced the moment she got into the busy garage; it was the first time she was seeing a real life-size F1 car in real-time.

Everything was so enchanting to her, it felt like she was reliving her childhood dreams all over again. When she had gone through with her plan, she didn’t really register the fact that she was going to go face to face with an actual working Formula One garage.

She really tried to stay focused on the task at hand but it really was in her blood to be unfocused.

“Hey!”

Somehow, just somehow, she had heard his voice over the loud noises around her and just somehow, she knew he was addressing her.

Immediately, she tried to hide or duck behind something—anything just so she didn’t have to face him.

Before she knew it a hand was gripping her upper arm and pulling her somewhere quieter and she was met with green eyes that looked at her with suspicion.

“Are you like a fan or something?”

She was taken aback by his words.

“…what?”

“Are you following me?”

“What—no. I mean not you specifically—why did I say that.” she whispered the last part to herself. If she was being honest, she hasn’t really been brushing up her skills in socializing with anyone else that weren’t the campers.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing! I—”

Their conversation—if you could’ve called it that anyway—was interrupted by the same man she had been suspecting from earlier.

“There you are.” It was the first time she was hearing his voice and just by that she already knew that they were going to be in big trouble. His voice was low and unnerving, saying the words as if he’s been searching for them not for worried purposes rather unfortunate ones.

Logan didn’t seem to have the same feeling as her as he looked more relieved among other things to see the man. “Theo!” he greeted while throwing his hands in the air, “What’s up, man?”

Fortunately for Logan, Theo wasn’t exactly paying attention to him instead looking at the girl in front of him instead.

When he noticed he tried to interfere, “Oh, no, don’t worry about her, she’s not harmful.” He then realized he didn’t exactly know this girl so he looked at her with questioning eyes, “You aren’t, right?”

Except her focus didn’t waver from the big man that looked at her with a stare that tried to kill.

Logan, still clueless, looked between the two back and forth in confusion until Theo said something that really caught his attention.

“Daughter of Poseidon.” Theo growled.

Logan’s head couldn’t snap towards her faster.

“Shit.” She mumbled under her breath.

Before they knew it, she had grabbed a hold of his hand and running away with it, Logan still very much in shock at this new information he attained.

Through empty places and crowded ones, the girl forgot that the man she had ahold of weren’t just anyone but a very real and hard-to-miss Formula One driver. Sure, he was a rookie but a driver nonetheless.

But she couldn’t care less about the attention she was gaining; she was far too busy running for her life than think about cameras and the public.

“What the hell was he talking about? Poseidon?!” she didn’t answer his panicked question so he continued instead, “Are you a half-blood too?”

The ‘too’ in his question was what finally caught her attention but still, she didn’t answer him, only cursing herself for not noticing one when she saw one.

Just when she thought they had lost them, the monster once disguised as Theo was standing there at the end of the opening, she and Logan had slipped in.

Next thing she knew she was fumbling around trying to fight off the apparent Giant that was Theo.

“What the hell are you doing there, mind a little help over here?” she yelled over at Logan who was pretty much… useless in the corner.

He continued to panic, looking for anything he could use to get the Giant off of her.

Suddenly, while she was struggling to get the Giant’s grip off of her, the force stopped as a cloud of mist poofed where the monster was once before. She quickly scrambled herself up and was met with a figure in McLaren clothing holding a gold-dust colored weapon pointing at her.

“Oscar Piastri?!”

He didn’t answer her, dagger still pointing at her direction, “Who are you?”

Putting her hands out in defense she explained herself, “I respect that.” she commented, “I’m Y/N L/N, I am the daughter of Poseidon,” then she cautiously pointed at the Australian, “I’m assuming you’re a half-blood too.” she nodded at him, “Who do you belong to?”

Oscar then slowly lowered his weapon, his trust building by the minute, “Athena.”

Then both of them turn to Logan simultaneously.

“No!” he got defensive immediately, “I want to know what just happened!” he pointed accusingly.

All of a sudden, it just finally hit Oscar, “Poseidon?!”

The sea god’s daughter made a face and ignored the Australian, “What do you mean what just happened? Typical demigod stuff!”

The look on his face made her double-take, “You… do have occasional encounters with monsters here and there… right?”

When Logan’s expression doesn’t change, she turns to Oscar.

“I have this for a reason.” He said slowly, showing her the dagger. “—and, well, if I’m being honest, that has never happened before.”

“Shit.” she shakes her head in disappointment then pulling out her phone, “I need to make a phone call.”

She left the two men by themselves and went ahead as the line rings a couple of times before getting an answer.

After a brief conversation—that will continue later for details—the girl locked her phone and walked towards the two drivers.

“You’re coming with me this summer. It will not be up for debate and don’t worry about your… duties, I have it covered.”

Logan was quick to stop her explanations, “Wait—what—no! At least explain what the hell that phone call was about. You can’t just drop all that on us and expect us to be okay with it.

She rolls her eyes, “I’ll explain later, right now, you two have a job to do.” They didn’t object to that, the three of them walking out the pretty-hidden space the Giant had decided to corner them before.

Oscar stopped just outside, “I can take care of myself if anything else decide to come out and attack me, you should probably go with him. And uh, I actually need to talk to you,” he pointed at her, “—later. Not exactly letting you off the hook that easily.”

She didn’t complain.

The two walked in silence, every once in a while getting stopped for a picture and such, until Logan speaks up.

“Apollo.”

She turned to him, eyebrow raised.

“My dad.”

“Oh.” She paused then comments, “Fitting.”

He didn’t know what it was in her voice, it didn’t sound exactly like a compliment but he wasn’t sure if it was an insult.

Whatever, he shrugged it off.

After that, they both went into their own train of thoughts.

Without noticing, they both sucked in a breath in unison.

“I’m sorry for—”

“I think you should—”

The two quickly stepped back from whatever it was they were going to say, heat rushing up their necks. They kept walking on the awkward silence that fell upon them until Logan re-focused his attention and remembering what she had said—well, what she almost said earlier.

“Wait—‘sorry’? What were you apologizing for?” he turned to her who was now ducking away from his eyes, her own focus stayed on her fidgeting hands.

She made a noise before finally finding her words, “It’s just—this always happens, you know. I’m a forbidden kid, I attract the worst kind of trouble there is for half-bloods. And earlier; I had brought it to you and Oscar.” he was going to say something to ease her guilt but she beat him to it, “I’m just glad that monster didn’t hurt any of you.” She threw her hands in the air, “I mean, it’s qualifying day for Gods sake! —maybe I shouldn’t go to the race tomorrow.” She mumbled the last part to herself, though not quietly enough that the driver didn’t hear.

Logan was taken aback by her statement, giving him an opening on his almost-offer.

“What—no! Why not?” he asked.

“Look, it’s bad enough that there’s two demigods in one place; adding a forbidden kid in the mix won’t really make it any better. I still want everyone to have a safe race. Who knows what kind of other monsters I could attract.”

From every point of view Logan could gather, it was simply a fact that this girl knows about their world far more than he did, far more than Oscar did, so he couldn’t really be the voice of judgement in whatever she had to say. But… he wanted her to stay.

It calmed him down for some reason, knowing someone shares the same—if not, worse—fate as you.

So, he tried to find a reason, a good reason to make her stay. Of course, he wasn’t a pro at this half-blood thing so he offered something that he was familiar with. He gave her a more… human reason.

“I think you should stay.” He blurted.

“Logan—”

“Dude—is it alright if I called you that?”

“Uh, go nuts.”

“You deserve to have some fun, watch a race! I’ll even have you as an official Williams guest!”

She hummed with a smile creeping up.

“And if you’re worried about trouble, that’s fine. We can always handle trouble! We are all trouble-bound any way, better face them now than later! Plus, I think it’d be good if you could teach us the basics early.”

She felt the warmth spread through her chest. It’s been a while since she felt someone so welcoming that wasn’t anyone within Camp Half-blood. It was nice. He was nice. Almost made her forget that she was in the place she was meant to be in.

Her heart felt wholesome, but didn’t make it show, her mouth couldn’t stop the comment from escaping her mouth instead.

“You really want me to stay, huh?”

[darkeralmond]

can you do more rutger mcgroarty smut?? your last one was so good

THANK U SO MUCH!! ALSO THANKS FOR THE REQUEST!! I LOVE U

Not So Fake

Rutger Mcgroarty x fem! Reader

synopsis: you and rutger started fake dating to make your exes jealous. when rutger tries to “sell the part” it leads to more in his bedroom

warnings: 18+, smut, hickeys, rough kissing, fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, f! receiving, after care

word count: 2k

a/n: THANK U GUYS SO MUCH FOR 300 FOLLOWERS!! I LOVE RUTGER SO MUCH! i’m gonna miss him when he goes to the winnipeg nets tho 😞😞

masterlist | request info

It all started out with a deal to make both your exes jealous. You approached Rutger with the idea a while back at a Christmas party. “I’ll pay you $50 a month to be my fake boyfriend to make my ex-boyfriend jealous,” you confidded.

He cocked his head to the side with his eyebrows furrowed, “$50 for that? Dude, I’ll do that for free. I need to make my ex-girlfriend jealous too.” You were shocked with how open he was to the idea of fake dating you. You couldn’t deny that it caused your heart to skip a beat.

You had been fake-dating Rutger for a month or two now and your plan was working. Your ex started reaching out to you more and more, asking questions about how you met Rutger and why you even started dating him.

Even though it’s what you wanted, the idea of making him jealous slowly dissolved. You liked spending time with Rutger way more than you ever did with your ex, and it seemed like he started focusing on his ex-girlfriend less and less.

Now here you two were at a small hockey gathering with a couple of the other players and their partners. You, Rutger, and Gavin were squeezed together on a pretty small couch. It was obvious that the couch wasn’t meant to fit 3 people. On the other couch sat Ethan, his girlfriend, and another girl who you weren’t familiar with.

Everyone was talking while occasionally taking sips from their cups. You would nod your head and flash smiles, but you couldn’t even concentrate on the conversation they were having.

Due to the limited space on the couch, that meant your thigh and Rutger’s thigh were touching the entire time. The feeling of his warm skin against yours was super distracting.

What made it worse was that Ethan had to put the spotlight on you and Rutger, of course. “So, Rutger,” he said while grinning from ear to ear. “What’re you gonna do with Y/N when you have to go off to the Jets?”

Rutger glanced over at you and smiled. “We’ll do long distance. Then, she can come up and visit or I can go there.” He then looked back at his friends before adding, “Maybe she can move in with me when she’s done with college.” He placed his hand on your inner thigh.

Your cheeks instantly turned bright red at the contact, causing you to stare at him with a bug-eyed expression. He looked back at you then nodded his head to go along with whatever he was doing.

You then snapped back to the conversation and looked at Ethan. “Yeah! That’s pretty much the plan!” you nervously giggled before shooting a glare to Rutger. Luckily, he was the only one who saw the stink eye you gave him.

He just smirked in response and took a sip of his drink. He then went back to the conversation like it this normal, steering the topic away from your “relationship”.

Your mind went fuzzy as the tip of your ears flushed red. Your mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening right now. He didn’t have to put his hand on your thigh, however he was for some reason. And for some reason, it was seriously turning you on.

You slammed his bedroom door shut, turning to him with your finger pointed right at him. “What was that?!” you fumed.

He leaned against the wall next to the door and crossed his arms. “What’re you talking about?” he cooed. He wasn’t taking this seriously. It made your blood boil even more.

“Your hand. My thigh. What was that?!” You needed answers. Not just for why he did it, but for why you enjoyed it so much.

“I was just trying to sell it,” he answered, still leaning against the wall with a sly grin. You rolled your eyes which led him to chuckle. “Don’t act like you didn’t like it. I saw you blushing.”

You scoffed, “I was not blushing!”

“Admit it,” he said, pushing himself off the wall as he started approaching you. You took a couple steps back before your back hit the wall. You looked back and saw the white wall before looking back and seeing him right in front of you.

His face was only inches away from yours, his hand rested on the wall right above your shoulder. “You like me.” Your tongue twisted, not able to get a single word out.

Your face felt like it was on fire, your breaths hitching. “See?” he teased. “Let’s just get rid of this growing tension between us and finally do something about it.”

“Like what?” You managed to ask that question, but everything else was blank. You had a feeling of what he was going to say, but of course he said something way out of left field.

“Like fucking,” he said. “Right here, right now.” When there were people downstairs? It wasn’t like a full blown frat party, people were able to hear you two from his room.

Your expression was haunted as you stuttered, “What if someone hears us?” Which meant you weren’t opposed to the idea. The answer no didn’t even cross your mind.

You glanced over at the lock on his door, seeing that it was still unlocked. His hand loomed under your chin, directing your gaze back to him.

His eyes darted down to your lips before meeting your gaze again. “Then we’ll just have to be quiet,” he said in a low voice. “Can you do that, sweetheart?”

Your chest rose and fell with your rapid breaths, you nodded your head quickly. “I can,” you answered.

“Good,” he chuckled before leaning in, placing his lips on yours. Your eyes shut at the sudden contact while you wrapped your arms around his neck.

His lips were soft and his breath tasted like beer. He pulled his hand away from beneath your chin and placed them both on your waist, pulling you closer to him desperately.

Before you knew it, he was slipping his tongue into your mouth. You let him do so, your body pressed against him. Your head tilted to the side in order to give him easier access to your lips. A small moan escaped your lips and into his mouth while you two made out.

You pulled away from him, attempting to catch your breath. The atmosphere around you was full of sexual tension and lust. You never realized how much you craved his body up until this moment.

You unravel your arms and place your hand on his chest. You looked down at the nice button up he was wearing, now wanting it off of him. You began undoing the buttons to his shirt while he chuckled.

You finished unbuttoning his shirt and helped him slide it off before throwing it across the room. You pulled off your shirt and tossed it to the same side of the room, now revealing your bralette.

Rutger stared hungrily at you and ran his hands up your back to unclasp your bra. You slipped it off, now completely exposing yourself to him. A smile grew on his face as he brought his hands to your breasts, cupping them.

You let out a gasp as you felt his cold fingers against your warm body. Your moans became louder while he kneaded them with his palms. He pulled one hand away and brought a finger up to his lips, signaling you to be quieter.

He gently kissed your jawline and traveled down to your collarbone while simultaneously massaging your breast. The sensations he gave you started spreading throughout your body. You were melting under his kisses and touch. All you could think was that this felt amazing.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, attempting to hold back any loud moans that were desperate to escape. He pulled his hands away from your body, bringing one of them down to your lower body.

His hand slivered down the hem of your skirt and into your panties. You gasped at the feeling, his mouth still marking your neck with hickeys.

His fingers moved down to your clit, playing with it by circling your sensitive bead. A quiet moan escaped your lips, your head hitting the wall behind you. It felt absolutely incredible that his hand was teasing you.

“Hmmm. Are you wet for me?” He sounded amused. “Such a needy girl.” His fingertips kept torturing your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your teeth sunk deeper into your bottom lip as you tried to ignore the tingling sensation that erupted through your body. He’s teasing, you thought.

You knew this wasn’t enough to make you cum and so did he, because after a few seconds, he stopped messing with your clit and stuck two fingers inside your wet cunt. His fingers curled inside you, feeling the warm wetness around his fingers.

You grabbed onto his hips in order to keep yourself sturdy against the wall. “Rutger,” you whimpered, your nails clawing into his skin. “Just like that!” This was too much stimulation for you but you still wanted more.

He pulled away and pulled his fingers out of you causing you to whine. You were right at your peak and of course he had to torture you more. You pouted your bottom lip, “Why did you stop?”

“I don’t want you to cum yet,” he simply stated. “Now take off your skirt and panties and lay down on the bed, pretty girl.” He took off his shorts, revealing the erection that strained against the fabric of his boxers.

“Please, baby?” His tone was husky, almost begging. You kicked off your shoes before taking off your skirt and panties before laying down on the bed.

He pulled down his boxers and locked the door before making his way over to you. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him. He already knew that you were on the pill since you were telling him stories about you and your ex beforehand.

With that, he aligned himself with your dripping wet entrance before slowly entering you. Your back arched as his length pushed through your tight walls.

He slowly rocked his hips back and forth, thrusting into you. You moaned out, “Fuck me. Make me come!” With a nod, he held onto your hips and he thrusted into you harder. You let out a small cry at how good it felt. “Holy, fuck! Rutger!”

“Shhh,” he shushed before letting his thrusts become faster. The struggle you had to stay quiet only fueled his ego and arousal even more.

Goosebumps broke out onto your arms as your mind became clouded. “Rutger, I’m gonna cum!” you cried.

He let out a groan and pulled your hips up slightly, making it easier for him. “You fucking better, Y/N. Do it for me, baby.”

Your orgasm crashed upon you and you threw your head back as your release poured out of your body. Your back arched as you did this, your eyes squeezing shut. Finally, your tense muscles loosened as you fell back onto the breath while breathing heavily.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbled as he pumped into you one last time. He then pulled out of you, his dick completely covered in a mixture of both your and his cum.

He took a couple deep breaths, running his fingers through his hair. “Holy, shit.” He went over to his dresser and grabbed a pair of tissues, wiping the juices off his dick. “You need some?” He handed the tissues to you while he crawled on the bed next to you.

“Yes please,” you answered before you wiped your wet cunt. “That was...” You couldn’t even describe how amazing it felt.

Rutger smiled and got under the blanket with you. “That was perfect,” he said. You threw away the tissues in the trash can near his bed, then got under the covers.

He pulled you close to his body and spooned you. You giggled as he placed a lazy kiss on the side of your neck.

You giggled at the feeling of his wet kiss. “I guess really we’re together now, huh?” you mumbled in a low voice.

He chuckled, “I guess so.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck once again, leaving you smiling happily.

[st4rr-girrl]

Was wondering if you could write about y/n and dally being in a toxic relationship mostly stemming from his part idc how dark it gets tbh and soda has feelings for y/n and y/n comes venting to him about it and it's in his perspective idk if this makes any sense but it does in my brain

Lmao yes honey, I got u. <3

Warnings: Toxic relationship, domestic violence, angst, hurt & comfort.

Summary; When Dallas broke the camels back during your relationship, you found yourself running into Soda’s arms.

(Kinda short? Idk how I feel abt this one, but I hope u enjoy.)

I will never truly understand what she sees in him.

The way she smiles, the way she blushes around him.

It should be me, making her smile and blush.

Not him. Never him.

They looked so happy together, so imagine my surprise when (Y/N) had show up on my doorstep, a bright red slap mark across her left cheek, mascara and tears running down her face as she pleaded for me to let her inside.

My heart broke at the sight of her, my eyes wide and my brows raised. I quickly ushered her inside my home, shutting and locking the door behind her.

“What happened, sweetness?” I asked softly, watching as she sat down on the couch.

“D-Dallas.” She stuttered through her tears, choking on her sobs.

I immediately knew what she meant. My blood ran cold, and my jaw clenched tightly. So tightly I thought my teeth might break.

I crossed my arms, a vicious glint swirling behind my eyes. “I’m gonna go talk to him.” I spoke, my tone cold and signaling nothing good. My tone showing that I would have more than just a friendly conversation with Dallas. I turned to walk away, but she quickly got up and grabbed my forearm.

“Wait!” She squeaked, her beautiful eyes wide and her lower lip trembling. “Please.. stay with me.” She whispered, her eyes scanning my face.

I nodded slowly, heaving a sigh as I turned around. I knew I couldn’t let Dally get away with this. He had hurt, (Y/N). He hurt my sweet girl, and I wanted to break his jaw for it. But for now, she needs me.

She wrapped her arms around my torso, and rested her cheek on my chest. With a slight frown, I wrapped my arms around her neck, pulling her closer to me. We stood in a comforting silence for a moment, before her raspy voice spoke up.

“It was always you, Soda.” She whispered.

Puzzled, and my facial expression showing it, I slowly pulled away from her to look at her face. “What?” I asked slowly, confused as to what she had meant.

“It’s always been you.” She confessed, her brows furrowing as she pulled away from the hug to stare at me. “Not Dallas.” She shook her head. “Never Dallas.”

“What do you mean, (Y/N)?” I replied, trying to confirm what I was hearing.

“I love you, Soda. I always have.” She confessed, a soft blush spreading across her nose.

My heart beat against my ribcage at an ungodly speed, and I couldn’t help the wide grin tugging at the corners of my lips. “You do?”

“Yes, Soda.” She laughed softly, reaching down and interlocking our hands together.

That damn laugh.

The one I once prayed I was the cause for.

I mentally thanked a higher power, for answering my prayers.

In some sick, and twisted way; I also thanked Dallas. His inability to treat her with common decency had caused me to receive my dream girl. I was still angry at Dally, however. No, not angry. Livid.

I would pay him a private visit some other time, though. I had a beautiful girl to comfort.

“I love you too.” I said, leaning down and locking our lips together. Passionately, but softly.

Treat your lady right, otherwise it may just be the last thing you ever have the chance to fuck up. 💕

[cannedbeefaroni]

OK SAME PERSON WHO ASKED FOR KISSING EDDIES TUMMY DRAWING

this could be like the prequel to that request

having ur first time w Eddie and you get him go let you take off his shirt and it goes like

"I'm sorry it's not great and it's probably not what you wanted or expected we can stop"

"oh my god fuck me Edward."

"what"

"what?"

"but I'm- but what about my-"

"yes. I love it. You're hot, Edward"

"oh"

and sex

IT CAN BE A FIC OR A DRAWING WHATEVER U PREFER, TAKE UR TIME AND TYSM FOR ANSWERING MY LAST REQUEST

I wrote a short lil thing cuz i like this :)

Pulling away from the deep kiss you were entangled in with Edward, your hands moved from his neck down his torso, as if they had a mind of their own. You needed him badly, and this moment was the furthest you’ve ever gotten with him. Most times he’d get overwhelmed and want to stop, but right now you could tell he wanted this just as much as you did. Tucking under the bottom hem of his shirt, your fingertips grazed the skin of his stomach, making him jump in his seat on the bed. You began pulling his shirt up, looking into his eyes as he squeezed them shut as if he were preparing for embarrassment. Despite that, he lifted his arms, allowing you to pull it off in a swift motion. He instantly hunched forward with his arms tight to his sides, averting his eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” he started, sighing. “I know it’s not what you wanted or expected. We can stop if-“ 

“Oh my god,” you whispered as your hands were already on his waist, holding his love handle before moving them up to his chest, feeling the thin, light hairs brush against your fingers. He gasped, surprised by your reaction. 

“What?” he stuttered out, breath hitched at your gentle touches. He flinches as your lips softly brush along his neck, the kisses eliciting soft moans from him. That had to be a good sign, right? 

“Fuck me, Edward,” you moan into his ear, making his face turn hot. 

“Fuck you?” he repeats in disbelief, stiff as your hands keep tracing the outlines of his body. “But I’m not- what about my-“ 

“I love it,” you kiss down to his collarbone, hand feeling where the pudge of his lower stomach meets the waistline of his pants, daring to hook a finger under the belt. “You’re so hot.” 

“Oh,” he whispers, melting at your words. You crawl into his lap, kissing his lips again feverishly. He kisses back desperately, hanging his mouth open as he licks the inside of your mouth. You grab him by the hair, taking control of the kiss as he whimpers. Your other hand rests on his chest, feeling him up as it slides down to his stomach. His hands go up the back of your shirt, feeling your back. You giggle, pulling away so you can take your shirt off too. 

“Now we’re even,” you grin, making Edward chuckle a little, but he’s more focused on your body. He’s overcome with want as he kisses you again, pushing you back as his hands grip your waist, gently leaning you backward until you’re laying underneath him, legs wrapping around his hips. Pulling back, he looks you up and down, admiring you before diving his head into your chest with delicate kisses. “Eddie,” you moan, running your fingers through his hair. He bites along your chest, wanting to mark you as he sucks hard on the skin, leaving it to bloom red and purple. He’s practically shaking from excitement, hips twitching against yours as he licks your sensitive, fresh wounds. 

“You’re all mine,” he whispers against your chest.

[lazyveran]

Could I get a uhhh… *squints at the menu* Jinx burying or cremating Silco’s body?

you have chosen 'veran's interpretation of what a jinx mental breakdown would feel like, featuring dead dad number 3.' this was interesting as hell to write and genuinely challenged me thank u anon!!!

Dead bodies were waste. Big, bloated flesh things. Ugly, useless, so so useless. They took up too much space. In her eyes, in the street, in the inside too, deep in the dark thing that writhed around in untouchable—

Nothing ever stayed dead. Did it?

Living things were a waste too. More than dead things, sometimes. Dead things whispered, living things were big and loud and angry. Living things hit and hurt.

Jinx knows that. Has been that. Is that. The dead has no place. Useless. Like trash. The living always became dead. And lived again, as dead.

Nothing ever stayed dead.

An idiot’s prayer

Her first body was hot and fresh. A mothers face. Father’s disappeared. Gone. Bridge eaten. Her third down the end of a stinking lane, a rotting, a misface. Then her own. Then others. More— forgotten, as if she would—

Corpses weren’t scary. Never. It was normal. She knows what people do with them.

Jinx doesn’t know what to do with Silco’s father’s body. The last body had—burned? Burnt. Shimmer mangled and dead dead dead – her fault, always.

He was in his chair. She’d made it pretty for him, drawings like he liked. The ones she made for him. His paint blood was splashed with it, now. It was prettier. Worse. Neither. She can’t look. Looks anyway.

He was cold, now.

Jinx knows that bodies rot. Flies, maggots, the stench of decay. Seen them in the streets. Made them, dozens. Proud of that, when flesh was warm. Now, now, she—

Fishbones is heavy on her shoulder. It digs into her skin, cold metal. Cold like him. The eyes dead without the crystal. Silco father didn’t have his crystal anymore. Cold, dead, soft— not metal. Maybe—

She picks his body up. It weighs as much as Fishbones. Maybe Fishbones should have been red, like him.

She asks Fishbones. He answers.

At least someone stayed. Mylo hisses in her ears. A bullet shuts him up.

Jinx takes the body from the chair.

There should be a monument. There should be people in witness. No one should see her, her Jinx, no one should know but him, Silco, bigger and better and Zaun—

Vander had one, him in metal spikes, father’s face rendered and big hands around big pipes and what would Silco have when—

Sevika. She would know.

Jinx takes Silco father to the shore.

In the lanes, you burnt your dead. It was space efficient. The first father, the only mother, they were not burnt. Piltover took their corpses from their bridge to be buried in a shallow hole. Vander—she doesn’t—

Silco should be burnt. A true Zaunite.

Jinx Powder doesn’t know how to burn a body.

Useless.

Useless

His body floats on the waves, Jinx walks out with it. Where Powder died, here, in the waters. Where Silco had died. Where father will rest.

It was wrong. Right? What would Violet think of her, hugging a corpse, soaked in his ocean, shimmer mixing with the pollution in an agony wracking her body.

She doesn’t want to let go. Pain was evidence. Pain was a cleanser. How much did it do to her? All the purple purple pain and stupid grinning faces and that fucking woman—

Was she perfect? No, no, or else—

Silco can join his first death. Live and die and live again. Like Jinx joined Powder’s death. Wasn’t that what he wanted?

A face drifting in the tide. What was peace when his face was always a painting of a single thrash of brother given agony. Betrayal. Ringing knoll bell of a new death—

Dead. He was gone. Her fault, always her fault.

Someone is screaming.

Her grip loosens. The tide grabs him with invisible fingers, pulls him away. He should have been in his coat. With a cigar. She should have fixed his hair, done his eye, like he was particular about.

Jinx watches as father’s body disappears into the tide. Not burnt. Not buried. Jinx can’t do anything right. Or— Powder—

Fishbones speaks. Jinx sees her own face disappear with father’s.

Above the dark wash water, Piltover burns.

[nohoney]

k… sweetness I am in the heaviest mood for angst could u pretty pretty please write some for us 😞

angst for u darling╰(● ⋏ ●)╯

“Fuck you! Why won’t you listen to me?! I’m here, crying, and all you do is just roll your eyes at me!” You shout at him, replaying another bad fight that’s been happening too often in the past few months. His reactions have been the same lately. The impatience, the annoyance, the flippant answers he gives that only make everything worse.

Maybe you are too sensitive, maybe you ask for too much, maybe you could be more understanding of his side. But how much more understanding do you have to give your own boyfriend before he finally at least gives you some fraction of empathy that you need.

“All you ever do is cry! You find some reason to flip out on me and I have to gather you up and put you back together again! It’s exhausting!” your own boyfriend tells you.

He’s always been a little angry, always had a little bit of attitude, and he’d always snap first before he calmed down. There used to be a time that Bakugou would at least attempt to reconcile. He tried in the beginning. A part of you blames yourself, that perhaps all your neediness wore him down and he was fed up.

He was the one telling you in the beginning to always tell him what was on your mind. Now it seemed that when you finally did, there was nothing but resentment. You had gotten to used to seeing him angry at you, his red eyes glaring and his mouth set in a frown.

“You realize that you’re making a big deal of nothing right? You upset yourself and take it out on me!” Bakugou shouts, “I’m not a punching bag for when you feel like shit and I’m tired of your shitty reasons to start fights!”

Are they shitty? Are you making a big deal out of nothing again? Why is it if it’s nothing to him then it should be nothing to you? Is it so bad that you don’t like when he leaves during a fight? Is it awful that when he asks for space you blow up his phone demanding he answer you? Is it so bad that you get so angry you throw glasses against the wall because otherwise you’d punch your own mirror?

All these feelings well up and they go out of control. How many broken promises have you made to swear that you wouldn’t blow up again? Too many to count and here you were failing him again.

You say the same words whenever this happens and Bakugou sees it coming.

“You treat my feelings like they’re an inconvenience!” You tell him. You don’t feel seen or heard by him. Bakugou used to tell you that he’d rather you be honest about how you feel rather than keep quiet to keep the peace.

The routine is supposed to be that he rolls his eyes again, sits on the chair and argues a little more until you break down in more tears. He supposed to stop once you start bawling and he plays clean up. He only acknowledges afterwards that he should listen to you and he’s sorry that he’s stubborn and he’ll beg you to just calm down and swear that he’ll listen this second time.

“Just shut the fuck up!!”

And the world around you stops. The usual routine of a fight is thrown off instead of more crying, you’re stunned silent as you look at him. Bakugou has been disrespectful of your feelings before and vice versa there were times you didn’t respect his time to speak.

Never though had he ever spoken so harshly to you like this.

It worked though; you stopped crying. A part of you shrivels up inside and now you want to curl up in a ball and just hide away from the world. His hands touch your shoulders and he calls your name, trying to take back the awful words he shouted at you. “Baby, baby I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. Please, don’t push me away! Baby-“ he’s pleading, not trying to be forceful on you but you shake off his touch.

Bakugou would always hug you after a fight, even if he was still angry at you and was still working off the residual. When he tries to pull you into that hug, for once you shrug out of his hold. You opt to lean against the wall for support. Lightheadedness creeps in and you feel a bit dizzy and your only goal is to make it to bed.

You don’t know what else to do except sleep away the numbness.

His words repeat over and over.

“Babe, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!” Bakugou is frantic behind you, unsure how to handle the sudden fragility that he’s brought on you. Screaming and screaming until you cry and make up is the only thing he knows. “Please, look at me! Don’t—babe, wait! It’s fucking three in the afternoon, why are you going in bed? We’ll talk, okay! I’ll listen!”

Suddenly you’re so tired, crawling underneath the quilt without even changing out of your indoor clothes into your comfy lounge shirt and shorts. Curling up, you face away from him. Away from his side of the bed and his pillow.

And Bakugou stands helpless, his apologies meaning nothing and wishing that you would at least curse him out like you did before.