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#i love me a good angst moment. but not necessarily feeling like i would like to see it in canon
flowercoasts · 2 years
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i am as intrigued by memory loss laudna as the next person but i am honestly way more interested in laudna reckoning with the fact that she can now live for herself now, if delilah is gone.
laudna’s life is split into two: before her death and after her death. laudna even says that whitestone “felt like a different life”, that the events that took place didn’t feel like it happened to her, it felt like someone else (which is a whole other bag of worms into coping and trauma response and mechanisms of defense - but, for another time). the only time that line is blurred is with delilah and laudna’s own view of herself. laudna thinks she’s just a puppet, a vessel for delilah to take over at any moment. no part of herself is in her control fully, because the woman who killed her is living inside of her, leeching from her. after the “you were never alive” fiasco, laudna wonders if there was always some part of her that was just meant to be a puppet for someone else, even before her death. laudna’s wrecked sense of self because of delilah’s direct influence and manipulation makes her believe she is barely a person. she has no agency, no future, and no way out. and, at the crux of it all, because she is only sort-of living and not really herself, she makes her purpose to give herself entirely to someone else. laudna is not living for herself, because what is there to live for?
so i would truly truly love for her to go through a path where she realizes she is truly alive, where she has agency, and where she now has to deal with the fact that she can start living for herself. that she has a whole family who loves her. that she has to learn how to reconcile her past with a future that is now available to her. i want to see her deal with trauma she felt she could never escape but now she can. i want to see her heal and grow and learn how to live for herself.
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gurugirl · 30 days
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Sex Tutor II
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Summary: It feels like you and Harry are looking for different things. You aren't cut out for casual and Harry doesn't have time to focus on a relationship. But feelings are complicated and Harry doesn't even know what he wants until he realizes he can't stop thinking about you.
A/N: Here she is! The final part! I hope y'all enjoy! Part I Here
Word Count: 13.375
Warning: smut, angst, fluff, praise kink, size kink (kind of)
. .
It was another round of disappointment with Gunther after the 2nd time. Not only because he was so unenthusiastic and he wouldn’t return the favor (still), but because you really couldn’t stop thinking about Harry. About how good it had been with him.
As you were going down on Gunther you kept sucking him in and it just didn’t feel the same. He smelled different, and not necessarily bad but it wasn’t as pleasant as it could have been. He’d definitely sprayed some kind of cologne on and you could taste the bitterness of it on your tongue. And he was kind of rough with you. Pressed the back of your head down and grunted once or twice. You even attempted to run your finger over the spot Harry showed you and he got all squicked out by it thinking you were trying to put it in his butthole. And that reaction had totally ruined the moment for you.
Just like the first time, you left his dorm and walked back to yours alone in the dark with nothing but your thoughts and a touch of disgust. You considered reaching out to Harry. He did mention to you that you could call him anytime. And you were left fully unsatisfied by Gunther. There was no part of you that didn’t believe Harry could satisfy you every which way.
You figured you’d call it quits with Gunther after that and maybe you’d contact Harry again. But to your surprise, he contacted you first.
H: How did it go with Gunther?
You were working on a paper at your desk when you saw his message. Of course, you stopped everything to respond.
Not great. He did cum, though. So I guess that’s good! lol
H: Did you also cum?
You swallowed and bit your lip as you felt your cheeks heat up at that question.
No.
It took a bit for him to respond. You weren’t sure if he was in the middle of something or if he didn’t have anything more to say, or maybe it was that he was thinking of how to word his response. And by then you had a hard time getting back into working on your paper so you called it quits for the day and decided to shower.
You kept wondering what was on Harry’s mind. Wondered if you should follow up with him. Ask him to see you again. And when you got out of your shower you had planned out a whole message to type out to him. You’d ask him for another lesson and see if he had any time. You’d be kind of putting yourself out there but Harry had been so nice and it was so good with him you hadn’t stopped thinking about that night.
But there was already a message from Harry waiting for you when you picked up your phone.
H: I think you should come over again. You didn’t get what you needed from him and I’ll happily make up for it. Show you what it’s supposed to be like.
You laid your phone down on your sink counter and grinned, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. Because yes! Yes, you’d go to his and let him take care of you. God, you’d love to give him another blow job too.
Only if you want. When were you thinking?
His response came faster than you expected.
H: Are you free tonight? Say 6 or so?
You weren’t technically free. You needed to finish your paper but fuck it. Harry would be worth a rushed final product.
That works for me : )
You met him at Maud’s like the first time. Only this time you bought his tea and a sandwich for him. He told you it wasn’t necessary but you felt like it was the least you could do. You walked back to his apartment together and told him about your paper that was due and he talked about his thesis. Harry was an interesting person. He wasn’t just eye candy, he had real depth. And he was kind.
“So why don’t you have a T.V.?” You asked as you sat on his couch and he plopped down next to you, drawing his arm over your shoulder.
“No time really. I’m telling you, I am almost always studying and doing coursework. Used to have one but it was too much of a distraction.”
You laughed, “And this isn’t a distraction?” You motioned your hand between yourself and Harry.
He shifted his seating and his hand moved from your shoulder to the side of your neck as he gently pulled at you, “Oh it’s a distraction all right. But this is the kind that’s worth it. Television has never been worth missing out on a good study sesh,” he laughed and you laid your palm on his chest.
“Well, I hope it’s worth it. Don’t feel like I’m all that amazing. Kind of ju–“
Your words were abruptly cut off with his mouth over yours. You let out a surprised squeak and Harry laughed against your lips, “Sorry… just want you, Y/n…”
You were a goner. You had never felt so sexy in your life as in that moment. Harry seemed quite ravenous and you didn’t know if it was because he was just horny in general or if it was because of you but the way he was licking at your mouth and touching your hip and moaning it felt a lot like he was simply into you. At least that’s what you were going to believe.
He got you into his bed again, your pants and sweater on the floor as he kissed your tummy. Your head was spinning, “Your lesson today,” he spoke between soft pecks over your skin, “Is to see how special you are. How you deserve to feel good. To be with someone who’s going to worship you…”
He hadn’t even touched your clit and it was already throbbing under your cotton panties. The man knew just what to say and you couldn’t help but melt into his mattress and moan his name.
You didn’t have much experience. But you knew one thing and that was that Harry was really really good. He pulled an orgasm from you like an expert, fingers tucked deep into your pussy with his tongue and lips sliding expertly over your sensitive clit. You could hardly even remember getting your clothes off but you didn’t forget his words as he pushed your thighs apart and nosed at your pussy, “So sweet, honey,” he looked up at you, “Can I call you honey?”
Honey. You didn’t mind. Of course not. He could call you whatever he wanted.
And when you finally came down from your orgasm, you shivered as he kept sucking on your clit. You tried pushing at his forehead and he hardly budged as he lifted his mouth from your pussy, “Relax. One more okay? Give me one more, honey?”
Fuck. You were not sure how you were going to survive this man.
When you were panting and sweating after your second orgasm Harry laid next to you and kissed your neck and told you how sweet and perfect you were. You tried returning the favor but he just shook his head and pulled your hand away from his obvious erection to kiss your knuckles, “This wasn’t about me tonight. Just for you, okay? I’m fine. Took care of myself before you came over anyway.”
“But you’re hard…”
“And I promise you that I’m fine. You deserve to be taken care of, Y/n. Don’t like how you’ve been neglected. Want you to just get what you need tonight.”
You stayed at Harry’s for another couple of hours. Just talking and laughing. It was like you two had always known one another. You learned a little about his childhood and you told him about yours. He was sweet and easy to talk to and you loved how he kept holding your hand and pinching your bottom lip as you’d talk. And when it was time to go he called you an Uber again, to which you protested, telling him that was unnecessary.
“It’s absolutely necessary. Don’t want anything to happen to you and this way I can watch the route and make sure you get where you need to go.”
It was like you were another person for the next week and a half. You were feeling quite confident and you ignored Gunther’s text to “hang out”. Harry made you feel like you deserved more. Even if you’d never have anything serious with Harry, he sure made you feel special.
But one night when you and your roommate were hanging out at a sorority house, you overheard something that made your stomach turn.
“You stayed the whole night?”
“Yep. He asked me to. Fucked me so good I almost couldn’t walk and he’s just so nice… I kind of thought he’d have me leave but he said he wanted to make sure I was okay.”
“What’s he like?”
“Well, everything about him is just…” the girl grinned and bit her lip with that dreamy, faraway look in her eye, “He’s so hot up close too. His body… holy shit, you should see this man’s body! But his dick… when I felt that thing inside of me, I was a dickmatized. He’s big and it’s just… perfect. But it’s not just that he’s got a big cock, he’s like… super nice and just knows how to orchestrate the whole experience. Talked me through it all, it was so sexy, and he knows what he’s doing.”
“And you’re gonna ask for another session?”
The girl nods, “Oh yeah. I already did. Well, the morning when I left he fucked me again and then ate me out and told me to call him if I ever needed anything. So I obviously called him…”
Harry wasn’t your boyfriend. He was a single man who had a reputation. He was known for this very thing. So why did it bother you? Why did it make you feel nauseated and jealous? You didn’t even get to have full-on sex with him. It was just oral sex both times, but it felt like you missed out in a way, not having the opportunity to have him like that. But perhaps it was better that you hadn’t had actual sex. Because your wandering thoughts and feelings were betraying your good senses. Images in your brain of you and Harry being a couple were silly. That was never going to happen. Maybe continuing to see Harry would be a bad idea after all. You were already feeling things for him that you shouldn’t be.
And, so, when Gunther called you again the day after you heard that story you decided to answer the call and give him yet another chance. He asked for another “date”. But this time you told him you wanted to actually go out somewhere first. Like on a real date. Maybe a change of scenery would be nice. Maybe the third time would be the charm, as they say. Perhaps if you gave him one more shot he’d redeem himself. Maybe you’d finally get what you were looking for all along.
So there you both were on a Saturday night at the bar with house music playing. You were readying yourself for another round of disappointment and being left unsatisfied when he refused to dance with you. The bar you two had gone to had a DJ every Saturday night and you thought it could be fun to have a couple of drinks, eat some bar food, and dance a bit. But Gunther didn’t want to get up off his stool and he went way beyond just a couple of drinks. You weren’t sure how many he had at that point but it had become clear that he just wanted to drink and get back to his room so he could get his dick sucked and send you on your way.
This time, however, there would be no blow job. You had already decided on Ubering back to your dorm alone afterward. You just had to figure out how to break it to Gunther first.
.           .
Harry had been wondering about you since the last time he saw you. The nervous pretty girl who wound up being quite the breath of fresh air for him. He didn’t expect you to call him for another session but he kind of hoped you would. Or at least just a text to hang out. The last night he had you at his place he felt like you were an old friend. A hot friend who he wanted to bang, but a friend, someone he felt comfortable with who he could talk to all night. He was surprised at how easily the conversation flowed with you. And so it was kind of disappointing when you didn’t reach out to him again. He felt like maybe you weren’t that into him.
He even wound up having to cancel on someone he’d made plans with. He wasn’t sure he was ready to look at anyone else naked. He needed time to get his head on straight. Which just meant he was concerned he’d be thinking about you while he was with someone else. And that was something he refused to do with anyone; think about one person while being with another.
And now it was almost two weeks later and he was still thinking about you. Kept wanting to text you to ask how you were. To see if you wanted to just hang out. He figured if you wanted more you’d reach out. He didn’t want to assume you felt whatever it was he felt. He wasn’t even quite sure what he was feeling.
So when his friend invited him to go out for a few drinks he thought it would be a good opportunity to get his mind off of you so he decided why not? He didn’t often go out to drink. He didn’t have time for it, truth be told. But his buddy wanted to celebrate landing a big job and Harry said he could only hang out for a couple of hours because he had to be up early the following morning to study but he could use a couple of hours away from schoolwork to let loose a bit.
The bar was packed and the room was loud with music and an open dancefloor where people were dancing and flirting. He figured he’d go out and dance for a song or two after a couple of beers and then call it a night. As he was on his second pint he gazed around at the tables with girls in their short dresses and guys trying their hardest to impress and that’s when he spotted you. He felt his heart float up into his throat and then he narrowed in his sight to see who you were with. Gunther.
Harry had looked up this Gunther guy. He was easy to find. He was following you on Instagram and being that there weren’t many called Gunther he knew right away it was him. Why did he look him up? It was just another thing that had Harry a bit perplexed. Being someone on the path to becoming a sex therapist, one would think Harry had more of an idea of what was going on in his own head. But maybe it was more just a matter of whether or not he was ready to admit what he was feeling.
You appeared bored. Annoyed maybe. You had your chin propped in your hand and you were swirling your drink with a straw. Your eyes were focused on the dance floor and Gunther was looking a bit tipsy. He was staring at his phone. If Harry were there with you he’d have his whole attention on you. He wouldn’t even be thinking about his phone. Hell, he had his whole attention on you now and he wasn’t even there with you.
He wondered what it was you saw in Gunther. He knew the man wasn’t doing it for you. He could just see it in your posture. If you had been well fucked, or at least satisfied on some level, and given the attention you deserved your demeanor would have been different. Harry could do that for you. He’d seen how you responded to a good orgasm and how relaxed and confident you got when you were satisfied.
When he saw you sip the last of your drink and say something to your date, who didn’t even so much as give you a glance, you got up and made your way to the dancefloor when the new song came on.
Watching you sway and dance alone had Harry’s heart rhythm increasing. Your dress was riding up your legs and you had your arms raised and your eyes closed. It was clear you were just trying to enjoy your time whether or not Gunther was. He was glad you were dancing and doing your own thing.
“Who’s the girl?” Harry’s friend asked as two more guys joined them at the table.
“Y/n. A friend.”
“I bet. You gonna go be her friend again tonight?” Paul’s elbow teasingly poked at Harry’s arm.
Harry nodded, “You know what? Maybe I will. Looks like she could use some company.”
Leaving his beer behind at the table with his mates Harry scanned his eyes back towards Gunther who was still enmeshed in whatever was on his cell phone’s screen. He couldn’t believe the guy wasn’t watching you dance. You were a sight.
Harry wound his way through the crowd before he got close enough that he could get your attention. But your eyes were still closed as you sensually moved your hips and swayed to the beat. He began to dance, only a few feet in front of you as he watched you move and feel the music. He stepped in closer, glimpsing down over the skin on your neck and up to how your lips were slightly parted, a bit of sweat building at your brow line.
And when you finally opened your eyes to see the very man you’d had on your mind it came as quite the surprise. You blinked your lashes at him as he grinned down at you, “Harry?”
Your smile stretched over your face as you continued letting the music guide your movements and he took your hand, gently pulling you closer to breach the space between you, “Hi.”
“Hi,” you gazed up at him like you were in a dream. Was he really here? “What are you doing here?”
He laughed and moved his hand to your hip, “Came out with some friends,” he glanced toward the table where Gunther was still laser-focused on his phone, “I see you’ve come with someone as well.”
You followed his gaze and then looked back up at him, “Yeah. Was trying to give him one more shot.”
Harry’s big hand had a firm grip on your hip as you both moved away from the sight of Gunther, still dancing, “One more shot? You think he’s worth it?”
Shaking your head you laid your palm over his chest, “I don’t know. Just wanted to see.”
Harry let out a laugh and shook his head, “You think he’s gonna satisfy you? Or you think you’ll be left wanting once again?”
You felt your face warm up as you shook your head no and shrugged.
“Then why are you here with him, Y/n?”
You shrugged again and looked down at the collar of his shirt, “Just wanted to see if a night out would make it better.”
Harry pulled his free hand around the back of your hip and ducked his head down to your line of sight, “And look at him over there. Not paying you the attention you deserve. If it were me I’d be out here dancing with you and showing you off to everyone.”
You laughed, that smile he was searching for back on your face again, “You are technically out here dancing with me.”
“See? I say what I mean. You’re too special to waste your night with him. You planning on leaving here with him after?”
“Don’t think so. I mean look at him… he doesn’t care if I’m here or not. He probably just wants his blow job and he’s suffering through all this just to get his balls drained,” you laughed and covered your mouth with your free hand. You didn’t know what’d gotten into you saying that but you didn’t regret it when Harry let out a loud guffaw.
“It’s cause you’re so good, Y/n,” Harry ran his hand up your spine to wrap his fingers along the back of your neck, and he ducked his mouth close to your ear to speak, “You know that right? How good you are? Got me all flustered right now thinking about it. Don’t go back with him. He’s not worth it.”
Your eyes fluttered when you felt his warm breath on your ear and down your neck. You loved what he was saying to you but you also knew he was probably just being nice. Like he was to everyone. Like he had been to that girl he let stay over after you. While you were pining over him he was fucking another.
Not that you had any right to be jealous. There were no strings in this relationship.
“I think I’ll just get an Uber back to my place. That’s what I was planning anyway,” you turned in to respond to him.
Harry moved you to the rhythm slowly and the feel of his hands on you was exciting. But you didn’t want to get caught up in how it all felt because you knew you’d just get attached to him. He was so nice and so good and being with him had you feeling like you were special to him. Though, you knew the truth. You were just like everyone else.
Except that every time you looked into his eyes it was deep and there was a well of emotion or something that couldn’t just mean nothing. But maybe that was just you being the silly optimist that you were.
“Can’t believe he didn’t give you anything,” his gaze seared over your face, “Can’t believe he wouldn’t want to.”
You felt his hand gently squeeze the back of your neck and his heart was pumping healthily under your palm. He ducked down again, his voice vibrating off the shell of your ear and the heat of his body enveloping yours, “He’s missing out because you’re so sweet. Feel lucky I got to taste you and he never has. Might sound selfish but I hope you don’t let him.”
You panted when his lips grazed over your earlobe and then he planted a hot kiss to the skin just underneath, “Let me have you again. Come back to mine and I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. Want to taste you and feel, Y/n. Missed you…”
Your brain was blurry as he smudged his lips down your neck. Your skin pricked in delight at the cool air that hit every damp spot left behind by his mouth.
“What the fuck?”
Your little bubble burst when you heard Gunther’s voice. Harry kept his arm around your low back, continuing to hold you close.
“Dude… what is this?”
“It’s… Gunther this is Har–“
“I don’t care who he is. Why is he dancing with you and kissing you?”
“That’s a good question,” Harry responded, “You should have been out here with her but you were too interested in your phone to notice that someone else was enjoying her company and paying attention to her like she deserves.”
Gunther laughed and stumbled forward, trying to pry Harry’s hand from your waist, “Come on…”
“Go home, Gunther,” Harry moved you behind his back and stood tall to look down on your date.
Gunther looked at you, dumbfounded, “Is this guy for real?”
You nodded and grabbed onto Harry’s arm, “Yeah. You should leave and get some rest. I think you’ve had too much to drink. I’m sorry–“
“Don’t apologize to him. He should have been acting like your date.”
“So, you’re not coming back to my room with me? My roommate’s out all night, Y/n…”
Shaking your head you stepped next to Harry, “No. I’m not. I think I’m just gonna go home myself–“
Harry looked down at you, “You sure you want to go home?”
“Fine. This was a lame date, anyway,” Gunther laughed and pointed at you, “Don’t call me again.”
Rolling your eyes as your date walked off you looked back up at Harry who was still looking down at you with a confused expression, “You really don’t want to come with me?”
You swallowed and let go of his arm, “It’s not that… It’s just kind of complicated and a mess of things I don’t want to explain…”
Harry took your hand, “Try me.”
You shook your head as you both moved away from the crowd of swaying bodies, “This isn’t a therapy session, Harry. I have real feelings and I’m not cut out for casual like some people.”
He followed you toward your table where you had left your purse. You wanted to make sure you got it before anyone else did.
“What does that mean, Y/n? Talk to me.”
When you pulled your purse over your shoulder you shrugged as you looked up at him, “Come on Harry. You know what I mean. You and I are in different leagues. You are having fun and sleeping with all these people, which you’re totally allowed to do! And I barely have any experience and was even so desperate that I went out with Gunther again in hopes of some kind of connection–“
“Hey,” Harry softly grabbed your face and let the pads of his thumbs graze over your cheekbones, “You and me have a connection. And there are no leagues, Y/n… that’s something made up.”
You puffed out a laugh but you really wanted to melt into him, at his soft touch, “But we’re looking for different things, Harry. And that’s fine, really… I should go…” You began to walk toward the exit and Harry followed you out the doors.
The silence and the darkness outside were only tempered by the streetlights with the noise of a car passing and the bass of the music coming from inside the bar you’d just walked out of.
“I hope you don’t think I took your company for granted, Y/n. I really, genuinely like you. Haven’t stopped thinking about you since our last night together.”
You nodded with a faint smile, “That’s nice to hear. I know you’re a super nice guy, Harry. And I hope this doesn’t sound rude or anything… but it’s just hard for me to really believe you were thinking much of me afterward. I imagine you stay booked and busy.”
Harry’s brows stitched together, “Booked and busy? I don’t just have lots of girls over all the time, Y/n. I am a busy man though. I’m in my coursework program and working on my thesis. I’m not just fucking around all the time. Haven’t had anyone over since you, actually.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, “No? What about a pretty blond who stayed the night with you? I’m guessing it was last week?”
He shook his head, “Had no one over last week.”
“Really?” You looked down at the concrete sidewalk and wondered if you’d gotten it wrong. You swore it sounded like she had just seen him the way she was talking.
Harry pulled your hand into his, “You’re the last girl I had over. Was supposed to see someone the other day but I canceled. Wasn’t feeling it anymore.”
You sighed, “I mean… obviously you can do what you want and see who you please. I’m just… my point is that I’m worried about getting attached. You’re good at casual and I’m not. So… seeing you again might be fine for you but for me, it holds so much more meaning. It’s just how I’m programmed. I can’t help it.”
He nodded and bit the inside of his cheek. He didn’t know why that little confession had his heart twisting, “I see. So you wouldn’t want to see me again then?”
“It’s not that I wouldn’t want to. I think you’re fun and we had a really good time but I don’t know if I can handle being one of the many. When I overheard someone talking about sleeping with you…” you shook your head, “I was sick to my stomach even though I have no right to feel that way. Does that make sense? And I’m not like saying,” you gestured your arms about, “… that I’m already attached or anything. It’s just I am not cut out for being with someone who’s also sleeping with others. So it’s better to cut our losses. My losses… before I actually get hurt.”
Harry could understand that. He’d dealt with this before. Girls getting jealous of other girls. And so then at that point, it was time to part ways as amicably as possible. Because Harry was a single man and not ready for commitments like that. His only commitments were finishing his thesis, getting his doctorate, and working toward opening his own practice one day. That was where his heart was. Not with any one girl who might come along. Perhaps one day he’d settle down. After he met all his life’s goals first.
But looking at you and your pretty eyes, the ones that had him in a trance, the ones he couldn’t stop thinking about that had him canceling on another girl… well he was quite torn. He didn’t know what he was feeling exactly. All he knew was that he had a plan, a path he’d forged and would continue on until he got what he wanted. And never in that plan did he imagine meeting someone along the way who could disrupt any part of that.
“I wish you’d reconsider.”
You shook your head as you looked at his soft green irises, wondering if that would be the last time you’d get to see them up close. You wanted to repeat his words to him. I wish you’d reconsider. Because that’s what it would take. You couldn’t do casual and you’d drive yourself mad knowing he was sleeping with others. There was nothing wrong with Harry. In fact he was quite astonishing and impressive. But that would only make the eventual parting even worse for you and so you figured it was better this way. It would be nice to have him again but you’d just be falling deeper into that hole. You knew yourself all too well.
Your Uber had arrived and you smiled up at Harry, “I can’t. I found myself thinking about you too much and just imagining how it’d be if we did more… I’d really be a mess. But truly, you’ve been so great, Harry. I wish you all the best.”
You climbed into the back of the black Toyota and Harry thought he should stop you. He thought he should climb in after you and tell you that you were making a mistake. That he really didn’t know what he was doing but he couldn’t just let you leave like that. He could figure it out if he did it with you.
But God, what was he thinking? Why would he do that? He didn’t know you well enough to be making such big decisions that could derail the very rigid plans he’d already made for himself. So he let you go. He watched as the car took you down the street until you were out of sight completely and he felt like something was missing. For the first time ever there was a pit in his gut, an obstruction that had him faltering. Had he just fucked up? Or had he done something that was for the better?
He honestly didn’t know.
.           .           .
The university you attended was like a small town. Thousands of people attended classes and milled about the campus every day. And despite how many people there were gossip was quickly and easily spread. It shouldn’t have surprised you because if there was one thing a college girly was good at, it was gossiping and learning more details about gossip they heard. And who happened to be one of the most talked about grad students on campus? To your utter dismay, the name of one of the most popular and attractive guys at university was Harry Styles. You’d never paid much attention to it before you met him. But now every time his name came up you were all ears.
Now you didn’t go believing all the things you heard in general. Most gossip was easy enough to ignore or brush off as inconsequential or probably a downright lie. But your ears did perk up when you were at a frat party and you heard Harry’s name mentioned. And the only reason you even heard it was because your roommate was chatting with a girl who was talking about him.
“Yeah, I guess Harry’s been seeing people but not doing anything with them. Like he brings them to his place or whatever and then he just freezes and apologizes but Lora said, and I’m just saying what I heard from her, that he really liked some chick and she didn’t want to see him again and he can’t get over her or something?”
“That’s interesting. I heard he canceled on someone a month ago- Amy’s friend who hung out with him once. So maybe this has been going on since then?”
Your roommate turned to look at you, narrowing her eyes and you knew what she was thinking. But even if the part about him being upset over some “chick” was true, certainly that had nothing to do with you.
“I heard the same thing,” another girl chimed in, “My brother is in a class with him and he said Harry’s been kind of down I guess.”
“Your brother takes note of his mood?” One of the girls laughed.
“Oh yeah. Only because I ask about him. When I found out he had a class with Harry I was like tell me everything!” She laughed.
You had a feeling that most of what you were hearing was false. Harry was so confident and just having a good time you couldn’t imagine he’d freeze up around anyone like that.
As the night went on, the frat house became packed with people. Dancing bodies, music, drugs, alcohol, hookups… You were there for the dancing and alcohol part. Your roommate had her eye on the debate team champ, Alex, and was hoping to get lucky finally (they’d been kind of playing a cat-and-mouse game that she was ready to finish once and for all).
You kept your drink in hand the whole time. Only refilling when necessary and trying not to get too wasted. That was never cute and it was also dangerous. But you loved dancing and letting loose with others who were just as bad at dancing as you were. It was fun to not worry about what you looked like because no one really cared.
Except that when you heard Gunther’s voice from behind you and felt his sticky hand on your arm you wanted to vomit, “Look so good, Y/n…”
He was drunk. His voice was slurred and you were annoyed at his presence. You pulled away from him but being the nice girl you were you smiled and made small talk for a bit as you kept moving your hips to the music.
“Come back to my room again tonight. Miss this mouth,” he plucked at your lip and you swatted his hand away, the smile on your face dropping instantly. No more nice girl.
“No thanks.” You turned to leave the area where everyone was dancing to get away but he followed behind.
“Oh, come on. You love sucking me off. You’re so good at it too.”
Finally. A compliment. But of course, it was too little too late and certainly not the time nor the place for such words. Besides, you were no longer attracted to him, and no matter what angle he tried it wasn’t going to work.
“Go away, Gunther!” You suddenly snapped at him and he stopped mid-stride and looked at you like you had two heads with horns.
He lifted his hands in surrender, “Okay. Fine. Jesus.”
You turned to make your way to the kitchen for a refill when you saw something that made your heart drop and your stomach bubble in gross shock. It was Harry Styles dancing slowly behind some cute girl, his arms wrapped around her front, leaning down to her shorter height and he was kissing the side of her neck.
Your Harry. The one who had you all gooey and giddy after that “session”. The one who kissed your neck not that long ago. You wished he was dancing behind you like that. You wished you hadn’t been so sensitive and that you could throw caution to the wind and not care that he was sleeping with others. You wished you could have just given in that night at the bar and gone back to his… But you said no to him. And now here he was with someone else.
You gulped and turned to go to the bathroom instead, Gunther still eyeing you up from the spot where you’d left him.
You stayed in the bathroom for a bit. Not wanting to go out and see Harry and the cute brunette dancing. You knew she was in for a treat later on. But that should have been you. Pouting at yourself in the mirror you felt ridiculous. You knew what it was with Harry. That he was a free and single man and could do as he pleased. You really had no right to feel upset over what you’d seen. He’d done nothing wrong.
Dumping out the last bit of your drink in the sink you figured maybe it was just time to leave. You didn’t want to have to deal with Gunther nor did you feel like seeing Harry all over someone else. Perhaps tonight was just not going to be your night.
As you opened the bathroom door a figure stood in the way and your immediate thought was that Gunther had followed you but as you trailed your eyes upward it was clear the man was taller and you didn’t miss the nail polish on his fingers when he gripped the door. Everything stopped. The music, the air around your body, your heart…
“Y/n…” That deep voice spoke your name like it belonged on his tongue.
You looked up at him, removing your hand from the doorknob, and gave him a confused smile, “Hi Harry. What are you doing?”
He seemed off. Not drunk but maybe not quite sober either? You weren’t sure what to make of his behavior as he pulled the door open and stepped into the bathroom, closing it behind himself.
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he stepped in toward you, your bottom hitting the edge of the porcelain sink, “Nothing makes sense lately. Just want to go back to how things were but I can’t. S’like I’ve got some kind of block. Something’s missing…”
You shook your head, not really understanding what he was talking about as he continued.
“I don’t know what’s going on in my head. Are you really still with Gunther?” He looked hurt. Wounded almost.
“No. After that night at the bar, I haven’t talked to him. He just happened to be here.” “You were dancing with him.”
“Well, not really. I was dancing and then he came up behind me. I was just being nice talking to him but then he said something and…” you scoffed, “Why does it matter? You were dancing with someone else. And you were all over her. You should be out there with her enjoying yourself, Harry.”
“Can’t. Haven’t been able to enjoy anyone. Don’t want to anymore. Every time I do this now I just… can’t.”
“But you were. You were kissing her neck, having fun. Looked quite cozied up to her, Harry. I imagine she’s waiting for you to return right now.”
“I mean I can’t lie to myself anymore. I’ve been kidding myself. I can never go through with it. I don’t want her. That was just a show. When I saw you with him… it’s dumb. I don’t know what I’m doing, Y/n.”
You sighed and scanned his face. He did seem down, “So why are you here in the bathroom with me? Did you want to talk to me? Is there something I can do?”
Truly you were racking your brain trying to figure out why he was there and why he was telling you everything he was. Now you weren’t a dumb girl, but you would never have assumed what he was about to tell you in his next breath.
“Yes. There is something…” he swallowed, his soft green irises fixed on your mouth, “Can you kiss me? Just once more. I just need to see something with you. Is that okay?”
You felt dizzy. Felt confused. Felt your breaths shallow as he looked back into your eyes, “What? I don’t understand. Why?”
Harry softly brushed his knuckles against yours, “Because I can’t stop thinking about you and every time I try to see someone I just see you. And it’s driving me mad and I don’t understand it really but I just need to know something and I think if I could kiss you maybe it would help clear up the fog in my brain.”
“The fog…” you whispered the words back to him and felt his fingertips against yours. And it was suddenly clear to you what he was saying. You were the one who had him all messed up. The “chick” he couldn’t get over. You didn’t know how it was possible or why but it was and he was begging you with his eyes and his fingertips. The heat of him standing only inches away from you was beckoning you to give in.  
When you wound your fingers through his and gently pulled him closer, your lashes fluttering up at him, you saw a light in his eyes, a sparkle of something like wonder and hope and relief. The strange nervous, tense energy you spotted when he first walked into the bathroom with you was suddenly gone.
He brought a hand up to your face, his long fingers curving around to the back of your neck, “It’s okay? I can kiss you, Y/n?”
“Yes. It’s okay, Harry.”
Closing his eyes, a shaky breath fell from his mouth as he relieved his lungs of the pressure in his chest and you braced yourself for his lips on yours but it wasn’t at all what you expected. It wasn’t rushed or filled with filth and lust. It wasn’t slobbery with an excited tongue finding its way into your mouth or teeth colliding in haste.
No. It was filled with warmth and it was soft, slow. He pressed his lips to yours and ran his thumb gently over your cheekbone, inhaling deeply. He squeezed your hand and lulled his lips up and down to the edge of your mouth and delicately swiped his tongue over your bottom lip. The warmth created embers as you parted your lips and ran your tongue against his and your heart lobbed in your chest at the emotion and the meaning you felt pouring from him.
He refused to rush the kiss, slowly opening and closing his lips against and around yours, softly licking and breathing and touching your face and your hand. And when you let out a small whimper the embers caught on fire and his hips were against yours and the fingers at the back of your neck held your face against his as he worshipped your mouth and you felt his nose nudge into yours before he gasped and spoke, keeping his eyes closed, “It’s you. It’s what I want. All I want. I knew it.”
You blinked your eyes open and cupped his jaw, “Harry… what do you mean?”
With his eyes still shut he sighed, “I just mean it’s you that I can’t move on from. I can’t describe it right now but you’ve done something to me and I need more of it.”
In most circumstances, those words would be music to your ears. But you were terrified of getting hurt. Terrified that he was just confused and if you entertained whatever this was he’d realize it wasn’t all that deep and he’d go back to his “tutoring”. Because he had said that when he first got into the bathroom with you. That he just wanted things to go back to how they were. And if you were just a means to an end, well, you didn’t want to be part of that, for your own sake.
“So you’re hoping that now things can go back to how they were before me? Yeah?”
Harry’s eyes opened and he looked down at you, shaking his head, “No. They can’t. I can’t. That kiss, Y/n… Was exactly what I thought. Can we get out of here? Go somewhere and talk?”
He was convincing. How could he not be? His irises were brighter and greener than they were before you kissed him and the thumb he smoothed over your jaw and to your earlobe had you melting, relenting. So you nodded to him and said your goodbyes to the two friends you arrived at the party with, following him outside, keeping your hand in his the whole time.
Your dorm room was closer so you decided to go there and it was like you were walking through a scene in some surreal movie that you couldn’t wait to find out what the ending was going to be. But before you could even get to your dorm, Harry had you against the wall at the art building, and the rush and the lust that you hadn’t quite gotten earlier in the bathroom was suddenly burning all around you.
Wet lips and hasty, shaky hands, hips pasted together away from the streetlamp that illuminated the sidewalk only feet from you… A heart-racing blur. Nipped lips and stifled moans, heaving chests…
And then a hurry to get to your building and find your way up to your room before the dizzy haze of Harry enveloped you again and it was all-consuming. You couldn’t peel yourself away from him and his lips found your neck and your skin and you pushed your hand under his shirt to touch his warm chest.
But he parted from you with a gasp, his chest rising and falling so rapidly his lungs were likely struggling to keep up.
“I’m sorry. That… Y/n I just really really like you.”
Pulling your hand from his chest you nodded at him and shifted on your bed so you could sit to your bottom next to him, “I like you too, Harry.” Obviously.
He ran a hand through his hair and nodded as he looked down at his lap and then dragged your hand over his thigh, sliding his fingers between yours, “I mean I want to be with you. I can’t even think about anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”
You watched as Harry drew his fingers over your knuckles and between your digits then pressed his palm against yours.
“But… so you don’t want to like have what you had before? Like all the girls and the… you know,” you breathed out a laugh that was full of nerves, “The sessions? Weren’t you just having fun?”
He shook his head and turned to look at you, “It was fun. But it wound up just being kind of empty after a bit. Didn’t really get what I was looking for. I mean at first, I didn’t even know what I was looking for. But you know how you said you gave Gunther one last shot because you were hoping for some kind of connection?”
You nodded as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth, wondering where he was going with all of it. Was he really about to say what you thought he was?
“I realized that’s what I was looking for. And you… Y/n there’s just this thing with you. I never connected with someone like that before. I never felt so… I can’t like describe…” he paused as he collected his thoughts, “Breathless? Or like… achy here,” he lifted a hand to his chest over his heart, “It’s this stinging dread, just a hopeless feeling. I never cared if someone didn’t want to see me again. But I cared a lot when you didn’t want to. It hurt.”
Those were the kinds of feelings you felt when you liked someone who didn’t like you back. It was that exact description that you were worried about with Harry. You were worried you’d feel all that and then he’d be with someone else the next week. It was for fear of that very thing. But he was feeling it. That devastation.
“I understand exactly. That’s why I didn’t want to see you again. Because I was worried I’d start to feel that too. And it hurts so much that it was easier to part ways before it got to that point. So I get it.”
“I don’t want to do it anymore. With anyone else. I’m done. And I’m so close to what I want… my degree. So I thought it was too much to focus on just one person but I think I was wrong. It’s a lot of work having people come and go. Maybe it’s better to just have someone I can trust and someone who’s there for me. Just one person who I feel a real connection with.”
You swallowed the lump down your throat and your tummy was in knots. It truly did feel like you were in a surreal movie scene all dreamy and untidy with bursts of vivid colors and soft stringed music slowly intensifying as the minutes drew on.
“Would you want that with me? To see what happens? I’m not saying it would be like a fairytale or anything but like… just a normal relationship. Get to figure out what this is between us and learn about each other. Just the two of us.”
“So, me and you?”
“Yeah. Me and you. Not something casual. I’d only want to see you.”
You hadn’t imagined your night going in this direction and it still felt like you were about to have a director enter your room and yell cut! It didn’t quite feel real but it was. Harry was sitting next to you on your bed with his hypnotizing bright green eyes on you, caressing your fingers and your palm with his.
“Okay. Yeah,” you breathed out your words and Harry’s pink lips turned upward in a boyish smile complete with adorable dimples and you couldn’t help but return the expression but it only lasted for a second or two before his lips were pressed against yours again.
Everything about him was intoxicating. His body against yours, his hands on your face and squeezing your hip as he laid you both down in your small bed. You wrapped your arms around him as he ran his tongue over the seam of your lips and it turned into something dirty and desperate, your hands grabbing at him and his fingers trailing under your shirt.
He squeezed at your bum, your jeans blocking him from feeling you unencumbered and then he parted from the kiss, his hair all wild and strewn about from your fingers, “Can we do this here? Is your roommate coming back?”
You looked at the clock on the table at the side of the room and it was well past 2 in the morning. You honestly weren’t sure if she was coming back but you knew she had hopes of going back to Alex’s place. But you also didn’t care. At least not in that moment with Harry right there with you, his scent all over your body, his jeans unzipped, and his shoes somewhere in your room.
“I don’t know. She might be out all night. Just… If she comes back we’ll cover up,” you laughed. You had once again lost your mind. Harry seemed to have you in some lusty trance you couldn’t break. Didn’t want to break.
Harry ducked down to kiss your neck as he fit himself between your legs, the bed squeaking under the sudden shift of weight. You could feel his open pants against your hip. You’d gotten a bit carried away when you were making out and undid them for him, to which he laughed but didn’t stop you. And now, that convenient thing was seductively calling to you as you reached your hand down to push at his pants.
“In a hurry are we?” He looked down at your hand and then at your face.
“Not really. I don’t know. I just want… you.”
Harry’s lids were heavy as he blinked his eyes, “Well you can have me. Whatever you want.”
He pressed the tip of his nose to yours before smearing his mouth against your lips and your fingers were back in his hair once again. Slow and luxurious. Hasty and filthy… Harry kissed you like he didn’t know which way was best. But you were getting fired up from the way he was doing it. You didn’t care, you just wanted it. Wanted his mouth and his tongue, his hands and his body, his moans and his hair between your fingers.
You were hot. Molten underneath him. Your panties were ruined and you were sure he knew what he was doing. Your mind wandered to where you’d put your condoms and then you felt his hands on your hip as he slowly began to slide your shirt upward.
He sat back, plucking at the front of his pants, and then put his hands back on your waist, “Can I get this off? All of it?”
You nodded and grinned with your lip bitten into your mouth as Harry got rid of your t-shirt and then unbuttoned your pants, “You too. Can we get your clothes off too?” You spoke as you lifted your hips and let him peel your jeans down your legs.
Harry grinned at you, “Absolutely. You already did part of the work here anyway,” he laughed as he gestured toward his unzipped pants.
Harry was left in his boxer briefs when the last thing you had to get rid of was your light blue panties. But Harry seemed quite transfixed by the wet spot on the fabric over your pussy. You were so wet the whole of the crotch was clinging to you, outlining what was underneath and Harry slid his thumb over the top of the material and parted his lip before looking up your face, “Fuck.”
You panted softly when he bumped into your clit and pressed over the slick spot, “Does that feel good, Y/n?”
You nodded, “Yeah. That feels good…”
“So warm and wet for me,” he drew his hand up to the elastic waistband and pulled it downward, “Gonna take a closer look. S’that alright?”
You were full of nothing but yes as you knocked your head up and down affirmatively and bounced your gaze from his eyes to where he was disrobing the last bit of material covering you.
He pushed out a quick succession of what sounded like a breathy whistle as he took you in with his eyes, his fingertips holding the soft, mushy part of your inner thighs so you stayed spread, “Fuck. Fuck, honey…” he licked his lips and looked up at you as he ran his thumb through your folds, “Can I have some of this again? Taste…”
He sounded almost as delirious as you felt. Taste… eat… suck… fuck… whatever he wanted. You nodded, “Yes, Harry.”
He leaned over your body, pressing his chest against yours, and kissed your mouth before dragging his lips down your neck and to your tits, stopping to suck and lick each one before he drew his hot mouth downward, sponging kisses over your tummy and to your hips.
Your legs were brought up to drape over his shoulders as he held onto your thighs and then watched you as he licked up from your gushy hole to your clit.
The sounds that fell from your mouth were pitiful. You had an ache that needed to be relieved and it seemed only Harry could do it. Every swipe of his tongue through your crease had you slipping toward the edge of the earth, “Harry…”
You did your best to keep your eyes on his, knowing that’s what he liked but you couldn’t help throwing your head back every time he sucked your clit and rolled it under his tongue. He was better than your clit sucker. He was better than anything or anyone else.
“Mmmm…” your attempt at stifling your moans only goaded Harry even more. He drew his lips over your clit and slid them side to side and the pressure that was building in your tummy had you shaking.
“Will you…” you gasped and pulled at his hair, “Can we have sex?”
You had an immediate urge. A need to feel him closer. Wanted him inside of you right then.
Harry lifted his face from your pussy and licked his lips, “You sure? You’ve had sex before, yeah?”
You laughed and let go of his curls with a nod, “Just with one person. I’m not very good.”
“I’m sure you’re amazing, Y/n,” he sat back, gently placing your legs down and you pushed yourself to sit up.
“I don’t know,” you grinned at him and ran your foot over his thigh, “Maybe you could give me a proper lesson. Think I need tutoring.”
Harry wrapped his palm around your ankle and shot a cheeky eyebrow up, “Oh you need tutoring, do you? Well, you didn’t sign up for a lesson with me. Think you’re just gonna get a freebie?” He laughed.
You shrugged as he lifted himself and began to pull his boxer briefs down his hips. Your eyes focused on his big cock. You couldn’t wait to see what’d feel like inside of you. You were positive he’d be gentle and give it to you good.
“So what are you saying? You charge for your services now?”
Harry pursed his lips to the side and smoothed his hands up your calves, “Teaching is hard work, Y/n.”
“I bet. How about just one last lesson? For me?” You bit your lip, rounding your eyes at him.
“Fine. Just for you.”
“Condoms are in the top drawer,” you pointed to your dresser, “Never been opened.”
He began to move off your bed but then paused, “Never opened?”
“Well, the guy I slept with had his own and we only did it twice so I’ve never used the ones I bought.”
You watched him walk to your dresser to find the unopened box of Trojans. Harry was so fit and masculine and his ass was gorgeous. He was a work of art from behind but when he turned and walked toward you he was angelic. His toned abs and strong thighs, skin littered with tattoos and bits of hair on his pecs, his handsome face, and of course, the heavy, thick organ between his legs, swollen and hard. Just for you.
He kneed up to you on the bed and handed you the wrapper with the condom, “Ever put a condom on a penis before?” He asked as he stroked himself
You shook your head and tore the wrapper open. When you had the rubber in your palm Harry flipped it over, “This side goes on my tip.”
You brought the condom to his tip and looked up at him as you began to roll the rubber downward but he stopped you, “That’s good. But first, pinch the top here, like this,” he brought your fingers to the top of the rubber and pulled at it away from his crown, “Just gives a little space for movement and for my come.”
You gulped at the image in your brain of the condom being filled with his come after orgasm. His shaft was wide and long as the rubber was rolled down as far as it could reach.
You looked up at his face and he was watching you closely with a soft smile, “Very good.”
Harry scooted himself between your legs, his knees butting against the back of your thighs as he smeared his fingers through your folds, “We’ll go slow. I want to make sure everything feels good. When you had sex before, did you come?
You shook your head no.
“And how did you do it? Was he on top?”
You nodded, “Yeah, he was on top of me. It was kind of quick. Both times. I lied and told him I came.”
“Okay. Did he keep your clit stimulated?” He asked as he thumbed at your clit, mushing into it to drive the point home.
You gasped softly, “No. Never touched it.”
“Not even once? What about foreplay?” He circled your bud and the slickness from your pussy began to coat his fingers.
“We just made out and he fingered me and I did get wet. But he never touched… ohhh….” Harry slid two long fingers into your entrance and you looked down to view the spectacle.
His hand was wet with your arousal as he pumped his fingers in and out slowly, “So you’ve just had a string of bad lovers. I’m gonna do my best to make up for it.”
You sighed as he dragged the pads of his fingers along your front wall before pushing them back into his knuckles, “You’re so wet and ready. You deserve to feel good, Y/n. Deserve to have someone care for you.”
You ticked your hips upward slightly and Harry pumped into you a bit harder, the gushy noises of your pussy getting fingered sounded dirty but so good.
When he pulled his fingers from you he held the base of his shaft in his palm and smoothed his free hand up your tummy, “We’ll start off with you on your back. I’m going to go in gently. Okay?”
You nodded and shot your eyes down to his cock and then back up to his face.
“There you go, just keep your eyes on me. Tell me if anything is uncomfortable.”
Harry pulled at your hand and brought your fingertips over your mound, “Rub your clit the way that feels best for you. Okay?”
“Mmhmm…” you nodded and slid your fingers over your nub as you kept your eyes on his.
The initial stretch of your slick muscle around his thick head had you gasping. He inhaled through his teeth and pressed in slowly, “Your body is so turned on. That feels all right, yeah?”
“Yes… feels good.”
“Yeah? Feels good for me too.” He was breathy as he sunk into you and then pulled back a few inches, looking down at where your bodies were connected, half his cock buried inside of you.
And it surprised you how thick he was and how much of him you felt. You’d always heard you don’t feel much when there’s a penis inside of you but Harry’s penis was definitely working into you and spreading your insides apart.
With your fingers delicately running over your bud you moaned, “Oh god… Harry…”
He gripped your thighs and pulled you closer before shifting himself over you, “We’re gonna make sure it feels so good okay? You’re kind of shallow and I can feel the resistance at this spot here,” he rutted in and you gasped, “Like that… depends on where you are in your cycle could be shallower or more space, but I’m only gonna push in as far as is comfortable for you.”
He had his hand on your cheek as he spoke, “Still feels okay right now?”
You nodded, “Yes. You can go deeper. Wanna feel it.”
Harry groaned softly and pressed his lips to yours. You had to pull your hand away from your clit because his pelvis was taking the place of where your fingers were. When he plunged himself in further you felt a delicious pinch and you panted into his mouth.
“Don’t want to hit your cervix. Usually, it’s not comfortable. I’m getting in there pretty deep, though. You okay?”
“Please… it’s okay.” You did want to feel it. Wanted to have him stuff you full and make you ache and burn and wince in pain. The dildo you used always hit your cervix and you didn’t mind the way it felt. Some days you liked it more than others, depending on how horny you were. And in that moment, you’d never been hornier. You wanted to feel him ruin you.
Harry let out a breathy laugh and pushed himself up so he could look into your eyes, “You want to feel it, honey?”
Nodding your head you felt him spread you apart and fuck into you with one deep rut. Your body bounced upward and you gasped.
He stilled his hips and stayed buried inside of you, his hand on your cheek, “That’s it right there, Y/n. Can’t get it in any further. You like that?”
It was obvious you did. The look on your face told him as much. Your eyes were fluttering and your mouth dropped open as you lifted into him, mushing your clit against his solid pelvis, “Mmm yeah…”
Harry swallowed as he watched your features soften then and scrunch with every thrust. He smoothed his thumb over your bottom lip and you licked at the pad of his digit before you wrapped your lips around it and he was in awe of how filthy you really were when he felt your nails dig into his back.
“S’hurt, honey? At all?”
You moaned around his thumb, your eyes blinking up at him, and nodded before hitching your leg up over his hip to indicate you still wanted more, pushing him in closer with the heel of your foot.
So you wanted it to hurt. At least a little anyway. Harry wasn’t going in hard and he wouldn’t. Not yet. Not until he learned exactly what you liked and what your body needed first. But every time he bottomed out you grunted and sucked on his thumb harder and he was losing it.
“Fuck… you’re so hot, Y/n. Look at you with your lips wrapped around my thumb. You just needed something to suck on, didn’t you? And you feel so good around me. So wet and warm, honey…”
You’d never had a man’s fingers in your mouth. You had no idea what you were doing but when Harry slid his thumb over your bottom lip it just came naturally to you. To pull it into your mouth and it was… god it was taking you over the edge. And he seemed to like it as you swiped your tongue around his skin.
But better yet? His cock. You were so full and it was so incredible to have him like that. The other guy you slept with was fine. But now you’d never want “fine” again. Not after this. Not with the way Harry was pulling himself back and then rocking into you, every plunge better than the last. He didn’t pound into you or try to race to the end. He wanted to make it good for you.
He began to pant deeply, his gasps lined with moans as his thrusts became clumsy and he stilled his hips before pulling his thumb from your mouth, “Let’s get you on top. Okay? Wanna watch you ride me and let you take control. Bet you’re gonna be good at it, aren’t you?” His irises scanned your face as he spoke, his thumb at your cheekbone dragging upward.
“I don’t know? I hope so…” you breathed as he nudged himself upward, deeper, “I do wanna be good for you.”
Harry moaned, “Yeah? You are good for me, honey. My favorite. You don’t even realize how good you are but I’m gonna keep telling you til you believe it. Okay?”
Your eyes were heavy and your body was hot. You nodded and let out a breathy, “Okay…”
“That’s right. Now we’ll have you get on top. Wanna watch my pretty girl get herself off on my cock.”
You felt him slide out of you and you looked down at his long condom-covered dick, coated in your juice. Everything smelled of sex as he dipped down and kissed your mouth before climbing next to you and lying down. He pulled at your hips, bringing you over his lap as you placed your palms on his chest and settled your pussy down at the base of his shaft. You wrapped your palm around him and slid it up and down to feel the rigidness of him. He was so hard and thick it made your mouth water.
With his fingers still at your hips he squeezed gently, “Depending on your angle it’s gonna feel very deep. Sometimes it can ache a little bit because I’ll be tucked up into your cervix,” he moved one hand toward the front of your low tummy, “But you can control how deep I get. Can even tilt your pelvis downward which will give your clit more stimulation. Might make it easier for you to come.”
You looked between your legs as you lifted your hips and rocked forward so you could press your entrance over his cock but then you felt his hand on your chin, directing your sight back to him, “Keep your eyes on me. Want to see your face while you’re pushing me inside of your pretty cunt, okay?”
You nodded and began to push yourself down. He fit inside of you so nicely. All snug and warm, packed inside of your guts. Every inch you took you could feel stretching your wall apart.
Keeping your eyes on his you raised your hips upward and then sunk down further to adjust, letting out a puff of breath as your lips parted until your bum was seated on his lap, his cock stuffing you to the brim.
Harry moaned, “Yes. Good fucking girl,” he made sure to praise you as much as he could because he noted how your eyes lit up every time he did it. Pulling at your hips, he brought your pelvis downward, “This is kind of like the starting position. You only need to grind and rub upward, don’t even have to lift off of me. Just slide in toward my belly button,” he pulled at you, causing you to drag upward on his cock but keeping your clit down against his pelvis, “See? Feels good cause you can keep your clit stimulated this way too. Let’s do this for a bit. Just get used to the motion here and do what feels good.”
It was easier than you thought. Your knees and shins were pressed into the mattress along the sides of Harry’s hips as you slid yourself upward. You’d always imagined it being some crazy acrobatic feat where you sat like a frog and bounced up and down like a pornstar. But this? This you could do. And it felt so intimate. Your palms were pressed into his chest, his hands moved down to your ass as he assisted you along his shaft and then back along to his base.
“Tell me how it feels, honey. The look on your face says you like it but want to make sure…”
You rocked your hips, gripping around him and pulling upward with your eyes on his, “It’s… god… it feels so good, Harry…”
“Feels good for me too. Love this angle,” he moved a hand up to your breasts and palmed at your nipples as you continued fucking yourself on him.
When you’d gotten into the movements and found a rhythm you could hear the wetness coming from your pussy every time you slid up and down his cock.
Harry continued smoothing his hand over your tits, “If you really want to feel me deep, lean back a bit.”
Pushing yourself to sit upright you adjusted your hips and the new angle had him deeper than he was before. You hissed as you swiveled your hips and Harry grunted, running his hand back down to your low tummy, “How’s that feel?”
“It’s kind of achy, but feels really good,” you spoke softly, looking into his eyes as you shifted your pelvis.
“God you’re taking me so well, honey… Look so gorgeous on top of me, pretty tits in my face, fucking yourself on my cock... making yourself feel good.”
Everything felt good. You were sure it was because of Harry. All the nice things he was saying had your head spinning and your heart thrashing.
He knew of course that you didn’t need instructions. You might not have had as much experience as he did but sex was something that came naturally for most. And you were so into it and your innate eroticism was shining through your more reserved demeanor.
Harry began to thrust upward, rocking into you, sticking himself in deep. He had one hand caressing your tits and the other pressed into your tummy. You weren’t sure why he was touching your tummy but when he thrust upward into you sharply you cried out and he pressed harder, “Fuck! You’ve got me so deep inside of you, honey. You wanna feel this?”
You reached your hand down to where his was, your hips writhing over him as he punched himself upward and you gasped when you felt the bulge in your tummy under your palm. He did it again and moaned with you, “Oh my god!”
You could feel his cock pressing through you when you put enough pressure on your tummy with your hand.
“Come here,” Harry wrapped his fingers around the back of your neck and pulled you down, making you tilt toward him and smeared his lips against yours. The angle where you could rub your clit on his pelvis was the best. It felt so good and you began to rock yourself over him with whimpers into his mouth.
Harry smiled into the kiss, “Bet you’ve humped your pillow before. So you know how to do this. Sliding over my cock so perfectly, Y/n.”
You pushed your palms into his chest and rolled down over him, hips pasted to his. Your orgasm was already beginning to build and singe in your body as you nodded.
His hands were on your hips as he let you take control and ride him how you wanted, “I knew it. Already have experience with this position, yeah? You wanna come, honey? You gonna fuck yourself on my cock til you’re seeing stars?”
You moaned and nodded with your lips parted.
“That’s right. You already know what to do. Now hump it like a good girl. Show me how you do it, honey…”
Harry’s words were so sweet and yet filled with filth. You loved the way he spoke to you with such care but he could turn it so dirty in a heartbeat. Likening you riding his cock to humping your pillow somehow just pushed you over the edge. And you definitely saw stars as your face twisted up and you choked out his name, “Haaarrry! Harry! Yes!! Ohhhh…”
Your pulsing insides encased Harry’s cock and he let you take what you needed as he moaned and watched your tits bounce and sway with every rock of your hips until his balls were squeezing tight and his throbbing cock couldn’t resist the way you gripped around him.
You didn’t hear Harry’s grunts or his breathy moans as he pumped into you. You didn’t see his face contort in pleasure as he kept his eyes focused on you, the pretty girl coming on his cock. You didn’t take note of how when he’d fully emptied himself into his condom he was still watching you in awe as you were breathlessly panting over him, still coming around him, milking every last bit of him out into the rubber that separated your wet cunt from his thick shaft.
You didn’t notice any of that until you finally caught your breath and felt your body tremble as you looked down at him and felt his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips and saw his heavy eyes watching you. You were going to apologize about how you forgot to look at him when you were coming but he pulled you down over his chest and held you against himself. You could feel his heart beating in his chest and his lungs filling with air on every inhale.
He smoothed his hand down your back and to your bottom, “You okay?”
You puffed out a laugh against his chest. It was funny because obviously you were more than okay. You’d just come so hard your ears were ringing and your vision had nearly gone black just before. Your entire body was limp and wobbly over him as he caressed your bottom and your back.
“Fuck, honey. You came so hard. Did so good.”
You sighed and smiled to yourself as you pushed your hands into his hair, “I did?”
“Mmm… so good, Y/n. Deserve an award for that one.” He chuckled and you could feel the vibrations in his chest against yours.
Smoothing a hand down to his pec you lifted your head to look at him and laughed, “What kind of an award?”  
Harry slid his hand up to your face, “One of those gold star stickers teachers use. I think I’ve got a pack of them actually. Could put it on your t-shirt so everyone knows how good you are.”
The filthy grin on his face had you giggling, “You do not have a pack of gold stars. Do you?”
His smirk widened, “I do actually. And I know a girl who loves being praised who I can use them all on. Maybe we’ll even get you an ice cream.”
You shook your head with a smile on your face, “What if I want kitten stickers instead?” You teased.
Harry inhaled and turned his gaze to look at the ceiling before looking back at you, “Actually… I think I have kitten stickers.”
You laughed, making Harry laugh with you.
“Okay then. Tomorrow you owe me some kitten stickers and ice cream.” You would be asking him later why he had stickers in the first place.
Harry softly pinched at your bum, a lazy grin on his face, “Your roommate’s not gonna freak out if she comes back and I’m here?”
“Nah. I don’t see why she would. Long as you’re not naked.”
Harry chuckled, “And you don’t mind if I stay here either?”
“I’d like it if you stayed.”
“Then I’ll stay.”
“Good,” you bit your lip and trailed your fingers over the sparrow tattoos at his clavicle as you gazed into his eyes full of affection.
“Then tomorrow you get kitten stickers and ice cream for being such a good girl.”
“And maybe a little bit more of you too? Since I was so good?”
“Just a little bit more is all you want?”
You laughed through your nose, “Okay a lot more of you then.”
“Okay, it’s settled. Kitten stickers, ice cream, and a whole lot of me.”
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hyuckmov · 1 year
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request #4 - himbo haechan
part 2! wc: 13.8k (yeah...) genre: fluff, smut (18+ minors dni), angst, himbo to fwb to lovers haechan warnings: mutual masturbation (kind of), sex over zoom call, softdom haechan and needy desperate haechan, mommy kink once, use of princess and angel and baby, fingering, unprotected fucking, overstim, haechan swears a lot, hair pulling, degradation/haechan likes pain and being humiliated, making love, nipple sucking, voice kink, thigh riding, haechan chokes and sucks on his own fingers, idk man a/n: i hope this is hot. i hope you feel this. i hope you like this. i don't know if this is my best work because i feel like the writing craft is so shoddy at times but idk... AS A PIONEERING HIMBO HAECHAN FIC, i hope this marks an important moment for the himbo haechan thinkers <3 thank you for waiting and thank you for supporting me. please let me know what you think and please be nice...
the first time you meet haechan, he doesn't exactly make a good impression. 
"what are you doing?" 
slowly, he lifts his head from where his lips were brushing your neck. "um…" blinking, his eyes refocus on yours. "trying to kiss you." 
"haechan!" you hiss. 
eyebrows raised, he beams back at you. "y/n!" he hisses back, imitating your tone. 
"i came here with someone else." you push his shoulder lightly, trying to make space between him and you but it's no use — his body slumps even harder, and you can see his eyes scanning your neck, zoning out of the conversation. 
"i know…" he mumbles, tracing a fingertip at your pulse point and making goosebumps erupt on your skin. 
"you do?" 
"yeah…" his other hand hovers in the air, as if he's deciding whether to grab your waist or press his palm to your lower back. 
"so you know i'm talking to someone right now, and it would be bad if i went around kissing my project partners...?" 
silence.
you dip your head slightly to try to look at him through his messy bangs, only to jolt slightly when you glimpse his expression. his eyes already half-lidded with lust, mouth hanging open and drool glistening on his plump lips. why did he look so…needy? fucked out? it had only been about a minute or so since you saw him walk towards you, the easy smile he kept on at full blast. you had exchanged small talk for about 10 seconds over your professor, and then he started nosing at the juncture between your jaw and your neck. 
"haechan?" you prompted, hesitantly. "everything okay?" 
"um...all's good," he mutters, before moving back towards you, lips puckered slightly and ready to mark your skin. 
spluttering, you push him away, again, confusion starting to settle in for you too. could he not take a hint? 
"were you even listening?" you ask, incredulously. "i said i'm talking to someone right now." 
"uh huh." he tilts his head to the side. "um, did you say something after that? sorry-" he breathes, wincing at the frustration on your face. "you just smell so good, i couldn't pay attention…" and as if he couldn't help himself, you noticed his body gravitate towards you, again. 
gripping onto his shoulder to keep him at a distance, you say slowly, "haechan, if i'm talking to someone, it wouldn't be good for me to mess around with other people." 
you see the words register in his head, see the furrow in his brow deepen as he ponders what you're saying. "it wouldn't?" 
"no, it wouldn't." 
"but you're not dating him yet." 
"no, i'm not." you see him open his mouth, so you quickly add, "but we're on our way, and i want to show him i'm serious about it." 
"but i'm serious about you." it was practically lazy – the way he pulled your hand off his shoulder and intertwined your fingers with his. 
you couldn't help the thrill that ran down your spine as you were reminded of how strong he was, even though he didn't necessarily look it. 
"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you bite back. 
"both." 
you let out a scoff. unable to stop yourself, you blurt out, "are you used to women saying yes to you or something?"
"huh?"
"where do you get your confidence?" 
he raises his eyebrows at you in genuine concern as if you're the confused one in this conversation. "where do you think?" he makes a vague gesture to indicate his pretty face, and you're a little annoyed at how right he is. with heavy eye makeup, mismatched contact lenses giving his look a more piercing quality, moles tracing across his cheek just begging to be suckled with kisses and those heart-shaped lips…you think you would be hard pressed to find a woman in this room who would say no to his shameless flirting. 
"you shouldn't assume, haechan." something close to confidence begins to stir up in you, and you straighten, shaking your hand out of his. "it's not nice to kiss someone without asking them properly. you should always try to read the situation, and make sure you have consent." 
listening intently like a student in a classroom, he nods slowly to show he understands. "not nice, got it. anything else?" 
"don't try to steal people away from their dates," you add on, inspired.
"right."
"and don't say things like 'i'm serious about fucking you' if you don't really mean–" 
"-this is hot." he interrupts, words blurring together in a rush. his eyes unfocused and dreamy, he drags his gaze up and down your body indulgently. "you teaching me things." 
"hae-" 
"teaching me how to be a good boy…" he breathes. "yeah. fuck." 
your jaw drops, momentarily speechless. and yet, despite everything you were supposedly teaching him, his straightforwardness, the lack of filter, the raw desire that seemed to course through his entire body…you couldn't deny that it was making you feel a certain way too. 
fixing him with a look that conveyed as much seriousness and frustration you could muster, you shake your head.
 and he cowers. 
"sorry…" he mumbles, stepping away from you, almost ashamed. "i should've kept that to myself." 
you resist the urge to laugh. "yes, maybe you should have." 
turning to go, you pat him on the arm lightly, feeling a little bad for him. "see you around in class, okay?" 
he nods, eyes cast to the floor gloomily, and you're about to exit and head back to the main room when he calls your name. 
"y/n?"
"yes?" 
"i meant it." 
"what?" 
"i meant it when i said i was serious about fucking you." quietly, and with surprising gentleness, "i wouldn't lead you on like that. i wouldn't say it if i didn't mean it." 
and as you turn your back on the pretty boy in the hallway, you couldn't help the butterflies that seemed to burst into life in your chest at his words.
x
the second time you meet haechan, you're explaining your assignment to him in class, and he’s looking at you like you hung the moon.
the third time, he keeps up an endless stream of compliments for you as he walks you back to your apartment to get ready for your date (with heavy insinuations that he could treat you better, the entire time). 
after that, you sort of lose count. from a name told to you by your professor, to the boy who couldn't seem to stand without your help at the party, he slipped into your life with no intention of leaving. 
"i'm frustrated because i WANT to fuck you-" 
no intention of leaving, no intention of changing, at all. 
his words come out louder than you expect, ringing out in the silence of the library. he's practically raising his voice, the aggravation plain and clear as his words escalate in pitch. embarrassingly, people studying at the adjacent tables start to look over at you two, drawn by haechan's distinctive tone of voice, wondering what the campus resident himbo-heartthrob could be saying. 
and he's still talking.
interrupting him with a loud shushing sound, you grab his arm and haul him out of his seat. he stumbles a little over his steps as he follows you obediently out of the library, the rant momentarily cut off. 
the moment the two of you burst out of the library doors, he's seizing you by your arms, his expression eager and delighted. 
"my place? i don't think my roommate's home, and there's this toy i want-" 
"lee haechan." your jaw drops. you seem to be doing a lot of that when you're around him. 
breathless, his eyes shine with delight. "yeah?" 
you almost don't want to ask. "why do you think i dragged you out of the library?" 
"you're ready to fuck right now?" his expression falls when he finally reads yours, taking in your stony glare and the hard set of your jaw. "oh. i did something wrong, didn't it?"
"haechan…" you can't decide what to start with. 
"wait, i'm sorry-" he blurts out, letting go of you. "i shouldn't have grabbed you…"
"you shouldn't have raised your voice in a library!" 
"i'm SORRY-" gulping, he tries to make his voice smaller. "i just got really excited…" 
"when you are in small spaces, you use your 'inside voice', okay?" 
"my…" he gulps. "inside voice?" 
"your inside voice means a volume level only meant for you," you point. "and me, the person you are talking to." you point at yourself. 
"why?" 
"do you want the whole library to know you want to fuck me?" 
"i don't mind." a beat. "wait, fuck- wrong answer. no, i don't." he shakes his head firmly. "no." 
"exactly." you let out a breath. "so please, the next time you want to have this discussion, make sure you're not announcing it for the entire student population, okay?" 
he opens his mouth, but then quickly shuts it. a blush beginning to spread across his cheeks, he buries his face in his hands, sweater covering his palms up to his fingers. 
you sigh. "what is it, haechan?"
"i don't want to say," he whispers. 
"why?" 
"you'll get really angry at me." chastised, he bites his lip. and then, quieter, "i'm sorry i embarrassed you."
"welll…you didn't really embarrass me,” you mumble. "haechan…"
a muffled sound. 
"am i actually just being really mean to you? you can be honest-" you add, seeing something flicker in his eyes as he removes his hands from his face. "i won't get mad." 
"you're kind of mean…" he hesitates. "but i really like it. because i know it means you care about me." 
your heart warms. 
"and also because i find it really hot," he continues, unabashedly. "like…a part of me wants to push you until you freak out on me. but also the other part of me just wants to be good for you, you know?" 
you stare at him. his hair falling lazily on his forehead, a breathless and windswept look to him as if his own desire was physically stealing his breath away from his lungs. you'd noticed before how his eyes were always watery with some sort of emotion, his long lashes gently tangling and untangling, meeting his blushy skin. his pouty lips… forming your name. 
"fuck…i should have kept that to myself, right?" he tilts his head, blinking purposefully at you. "y/n?" 
you clear your throat. "it's fine." another pause, as you wonder how you can draw the conversation back to something less intimate, because the way he's looking at you — as if he wants to dive into your soul just by looking into your eyes, — was making you regret ever dragging him out of the library. "um…" sex. talk about sex. "so…you were going to use a toy for our first time together?" 
caught off guard, he gapes at you, trying to recall where he let slip his plans for the night. "i…" he blinks. "how did you know? did i tell you?"
he's adorable. pressing on, you try to bring back the tone of defiance in your voice. "couldn't make me cum all by yourself? are you really that unconfident?" 
from the way he's tonguing the inside of his cheek, you know you've successfully switched the tone. "princess…" his voice is slow and patronising. "don't talk about things you don't understand." you don't think you've ever heard him speak like that, cockiness dripping from every syllable. is this the haechan that everyone else knew? 
"i don't-" 
"i saw the way you were looking at me just now…" eyes fluttering, he slouches closer to you and you back away on instinct. the movement makes him smile. "you think i'm pretty, just like everyone else does, hm?" 
it takes everything in you to roll your eyes, stepping further away from him as if it would break the spell. "you're so full of yourself." 
"and you like it." at the look on your face, he backpedals instantly, the confidence draining from him in an instant as he adjusts his bag on his shoulders. "right…sorry. you're still seeing someone." he doesn't even try to hide the bitterness in his tone.  
a moment passes.
"let's just… go get dinner," you suggest, lightly. he nods distractedly, hooking a hand around your bag strap and lazily tugging it onto his shoulder, something he likes to do for you. 
the walk to the restaurant is only a few minutes, and it's only when you reach that he speaks up again. 
"y/n?" 
"yeah?" 
"he….he makes you happy, right?" 
"huh?"
"the guy you're seeing." he swallows, fingers curling tighter around your bag unconsciously. "you're happy with him, right?" 
biting your lip, you nod slowly. "i guess."
if he can sense your hesitance, he doesn't press — body relaxing considerably as he nods to himself too. "then that's all that matters." 
and he reaches over to hold the door open for you, face bright and happy again as he patiently waits for you to enter first. 
x
haechan, 11.00pm: i hope you got a kiss today  you, 11.00pm: what haechan, 11.01pm: idk you just looked really pretty today and i really wanted to kiss you you, 11.01pm: so that's why you were looking at me like that  haechan, 11.01pm: yeah but i can't kiss you so  haechan, 11.01pm: i hope you got a kiss somehow…
haechan, 11.12pm: so did you?  you, 11.12pm: did i what? haechan, 11.12pm: did you get a kiss  haechan, 11.12pm: WAIT  haechan, 11.12pm: don't tell me  haechan, 11.12pm: i'll get sad you, 11.12pm: okay haechan, 11.12pm: okay what?  you, 11.13pm: okay, i won't tell you haechan, 11.13pm: fuck  haechan, 11.13pm: i want you so bad… you, 11.13pm: HAECHAN  haechan, 11.13pm: TYPO sorry sorry  you, 11.13pm: you can't typo a whole phrase haechan, 11.13pm: yes you can… i just did…
x
for someone who doesn't always know what he's talking about, haechan loves to talk. a lot. 
"you're going to sleep? already?" even in the low quality image on your phone screen, you can see the crestfallen look on his face. 
"we both have an early class tomorrow." 
"we can take turns sleeping in that class…like we did last week…" 
accusatorily, you jab a finger at your phone camera, causing his nose to scrunch in alarm as if you were really there, backing away from his screen. "you slept for a whole two hours that time!" 
"i-" sulking, he rolls over on his side, face half smushed against the bed. "i'll do better this time." 
"we can always talk tomorrow," you soothe, getting comfortable in your own bed and holding up your phone a little higher so the angle didn't look so bad on videocall.
although it was ridiculous, you couldn't help but feel insecure at how pretty he looked all the time, even when it was 2 in the morning and his voice was low and scratchy, or when he just woke up and his hair stuck out in all sorts of ways…his eyes never stopped sparkling in the terribly endearing way, his skin looking soft under the warm lights of his room. 
"but i want to talk to you now…" he says, softly. 
"okay…what about?" 
"i don't know…" still in the same soft voice that drives you crazy, he blinks tiredly at his screen. "anything…i guess…" 
"um…what did you have for dinner?" 
you can't help but let out a laugh when he whines loudly in annoyance "i mean deep stuff. stuff you wouldn't tell anyone else." 
"you think of something then!"
"wait-" a look passes over his face, you can literally see the idea hitting him, the flickering of a lightbulb over his head: he sits up, animated, and starts pulling his laptop onto his lap. "give me a second." he's typing furiously on his keyboard, nose scrunched in concentration. 
"you don't even type this seriously in class," you accuse, half-heartedly. when he doesn't respond, you raise your voice a little. "haechan? what are you doing?" 
"nothing." he turns his attention back to the phone screen, and beams at you with a brightness that catches you off guard. "just had an assignment that i forgot to submit." 
"um…okay…"
"but i have my ideas for the questions now-" he continues, his words coming out rushed from the blatant excitement in his tone. "so let's start." 
"why are you so…eager?" suspicious, you narrow your eyes at him playfully. "are the questions sex-related? you perv…" 
"no," he shakes his head vehemently, "i swear, they're not. i just…" and suddenly he's shy, biting at his puffy lips, and even in the dim glow of the room you can see the flush in his cheeks. "i just want to get to know you more…" 
"okay…" 
"okay, let's start." he clears his throat.
 "given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest?" 
"what the fuck?" you gape at him. out of all the things he could have asked you, there was no way you would have thought of this. "haechan, are you trying to get me to do some assignment for you?" 
"i'm genuinely curious-" he tries to defend himself, a hint of a whine making its way into his voice. "i mean, i can go first if you need more time to think…" 
"i don't think i've ever heard you use the word 'whom'." 
"now that's just mean…" pouting, his eyes go round and sad, and you can't tell if he's doing it on purpose, but when he nibbles on your lips you feel your breath catch in your throat. 
fuck. stumbling over your words, you rush, "uh…i can answer i guess." 
his eyes crinkle into a smile. "okay, who?" 
"um…probably that researcher guy who we're doing our assignment on. then i can just ask him all the questions and cite him as the source and we would be done."
"that's a good answer," he says, encouragingly. 
"okay…so who would you want as a dinner guest?" 
"you," he says, immediately. 
"haechan, this isn't going to be fun if your questions are all set up as lines…" 
"i'm serious…" and he is – there's no hint of any rehearsed expression on his face. "i only ever want to see you." and then, smiling, he shifts around happily on his seat on the bed. "okay! next question…" 
x
"what would constitute a perfect day for you?" 
"how many questions do you have?" 
"i don't know… i'm making these up as i go along," he shrugs. "so, what would constitute a perfect day for you?" 
you think about it, for a second. "i think my perfect day would be really simple, and everything would just go right. i would wake up early, there wouldn't be a queue at the cafe for breakfast, i get to class with my coffee-" 
"which class?" 
"uh… our class?" 
"okay, good," a small smile playing on his lips. "and then?" 
"and then…i can answer all your questions in class, and afterwards we go to the library and miraculously we can get something done…" you think back to a few evenings you've had where you've genuinely, really, been happy. "we get hotpot for dinner and we get a huge discount, and i go back home and fall asleep really easily." 
haechan is smiling so hard you want to ask him if his cheeks hurt. 
"what's so funny?" 
"it's funny…" he looks at you coyly. "that's my perfect day too." 
x
"number 10…" 
"motherfucker-" you sit up, startling haechan, who drops his phone. 
"wha-"
"you have a list of questions?" you wait for him to pick up his phone again before you point at the screen, savagely. you don't even have to look to know he's doing his cower again. "what happened to coming up with it as you go along? are these even your questions?" 
"y/n…" he shuffles around uncomfortably, picking at his bedspread. 
"how many questions are there in total?"
"36." his eyes widening, he backpedals. "actually, i don't know…um…it depends…" 
"i'm going to bed." 
"no we have to finish all 36 questions!" 
"we have to? why do we have to?" 
"please?" he looks up at you, and you should be used to it by now, used to the shifts in tone and the intensity of his emotions when his eyes meet yours, but still it makes your heart hammer a little harder every time. "please? i really just want to get to know you…" 
a pause. 
sighing, you lie back on your pillows again. "what's number 10?" 
x
"what roles do love and affection play in your life?" haechan lets out a yawn, rubbing his face against his comforter. 
the question wakes you up a little. you've kind of guessed that he was using a list of questions that would get increasingly intimate as they went on, but this one felt more direct than the others. and although so far you've been honest about everything, careless sometimes with your answer but never dishonest, you don't know how truthfully you should answer this time.
haechan blinks lazily at the screen. "um…" he rubs at his eyes, "i can go first. i think…love and affection are easy." 
the words feel like a punch to your gut. "really?" 
"yeah," he continues. "i mean, i'm affectionate with practically everyone i meet…and i'm not scared if i end up falling in love. i don't always know it when i'm in the moment…but i think i like how it feels," he adds, almost as an afterthought. 
"you like how what feels?" 
"being in love," he says, softly, looking at you with gentleness in his eyes. 
"but what if it doesn't end well?" you ask more for yourself than for him, and he answers as if it's the easiest thing in the world. 
"then it ends. but at least you were in love." tilting his head, he asks, "is it…not easy for you?" 
you can't find the words, so you shake your head. 
his brow furrows. "aren't you seeing someone right now?"
"yeah but i don't love him." he opens his mouth, so you add on quickly, "and he doesn't love me." 
"then you shouldn't be with him," he said, firmly.  things were always so simple when he outlined them. "you don't love each other, so you shouldn't waste your time together." 
"but he's not a bad person…" you have no idea why you're defending someone you don't even really care about. "he's generally nice to me…" 
"none of that matters if there's no love," he runs a hand through his hair, and that's when you realise that he's genuinely angry. "i didn't know you didn't love him. if i did, i would have talked to you about it ages ago…" 
"it's not so easy, haechan. it's not so easy to find someone who loves you back. sometimes, you just have to be grateful that someone is willing to spend time with you, grateful that they're not horrible-" 
he cuts you off with a frustrated sound. "i don't understand." rubbing his face with his hands, you hear him exhale shakily, the sound crackling in your earphones. 
"it's okay," you try to calm him, making your tone as light as possible. "these are just questions, right? we don't have to agree…" 
he settles down, but you can tell he's still lost in thought, his jaw clenched. "i guess." 
"which question are we on?" 
he checks his laptop screen. "21." 
"do you…want to keep going?" 
he nods, sighing one more time before focusing on you again. this time, you can tell he's managed to calm down, the gentleness returned to his demeanour. "i'm sorry. i'm really trying to understand what you mean, but maybe we're just different." 
"yeah…" affection and love did feel easy, even being friends with haechan. you think it's maybe become a part of your life that you couldn't live without — the little ways he took care of you, how he never hesitated to compliment you or defend you. "i want to be more like you, though." 
"huh?" 
"the thing about love and affection…" you mumble. "i want it to be as easy as it is for you." his eyes light up, and you hate how it immediately seems to lift a weight from your chest. 
x
it's strange that haechan's the one you turn to when things eventually fall apart. but at the same time, it makes perfect sense, because he's never once made you feel small for what you thought, or invalidated anything you've felt. 
you didn't even have to tell him. you had stumbled into class, numb from all your hurt, and the moment haechan raised his head to look at you, he just knew. 
"what's wrong?" he mouths, a look of pure fear in his eyes as he scans your surroundings, trying to figure out what could've done this to you. 
"i'll tell you later," you're barely able to whisper back as you slide into your seat next to him, eyes already filling with tears at how easy it was for haechan to read you. your heart warming from the urgency in his tone.
without hesitation, he leans over far in his seat to squeeze you into a hug. his lips ghosting over the crown of your hair, you can hear the worry in his voice even as he tries to reassure you. 
for the next 2 hours, he casts worried glances over at you, taking in the way you're barely listening, fingers ghosting over your keyboard and typing nothing. the lecture barely ends before he's reaching over to pack up for you, clumsy hands shuffling your papers into your folder the way he knows you like them, shouldering your backpack as he tugs you gently towards the door and out into the sun. 
he leads you to a quiet place on campus, and if you were a little less focused on yourself, you'd wonder if this was where he usually took his dates to kiss them. it's secluded and private, soft grass underneath your shoes as he guides you to a bench under a tree, sliding into a seat next to you and taking your hand in his immediately. 
on one of your study sessions together, the two of you had taken a love language quiz, and it was no surprise when his top love language showed up as physical touch, while yours showed up as words of affirmation. 
tears are slipping down your cheeks, and he pulls you into his arms — a gesture more for him than you but you melt into his touch all the same. his palms clumsily pat between your shoulder blades, his touch heavy as he strokes down your spine, rubbing at your shoulders as you try to stop from shaking. 
"do you want to talk about it?" he murmurs, eyes wide and concerned.
briefly, you consider not telling him, the thought of having to materialise everything with your words too painful to bear. but his voice was so gentle, his touch so soothing, that you feel he at least deserved to know why you were crying in his arms like this. 
"h-he took me to the party to make her jealous." 
his movements still. 
"i knew we didn't love each other…but i thought…i thought at least…he must've liked something in me, right?" 
he's at a loss for words as you cry harder into his shirt. 
"you don't have to say anything…" you reassure him. "i know it's stupid. i didn't even like him anyway, it just hurts my pride to think he never saw anything in me." 
"it's not stupid," he says, firmly. "you rejected me at that party for him, right? you've been rejecting me for weeks because of him." 
you nod into his chest. 
"you're not stupid." he declares. "he's the one who's wrong." and there it is again — the simplicity, the way everything was black and white with him. he was completely and wholly on your side, his hand diligently going back to stroke your hair, dipping his fingers to rub circles into the nape of your neck. 
"i'm surprised you're not being inappropriate right now." 
he doesn't respond at first, but his movements falter again. 
"i just really don't like seeing you hurt," he says, quietly. 
"oh." 
"wait, don't get me wrong, i think you look very pretty when you cry," he adds, sincerely. it makes you laugh, a little bit of the haechan you first met coming back. but he mistakes it for disbelief, tripping over his words to make you understand, raising his voice. "you really are, and you sound so pretty too-" 
wrapping your arms around his middle, you lean into his touch, smiling into the fabric of his shirt. "thanks, haechan." 
"it's just that…i don't like thinking that someone made you feel like this. it makes me feel…" his palm moves down to hold the side of your face delicately, fingers moving over your cheeks as he chooses his words. "it makes me feel really helpless. it reminds me i can't stop people from hurting you." 
his voice is small, and you can barely catch his words, but you feel like you've been slammed in the chest. you hesitate, wondering if you should press him further.
"why?" 
"what do you mean?" 
"why does it make you feel helpless?" 
he huffs, frustrated. "because it does." 
he runs a hand through his hair as he rambles on. "i don't know why i don't like seeing you hurt. or why i don't like the idea of your shoulders being sore like mine are so i carry your things around for you everywhere. i don't know why i want to mark your neck but i don't ever want to see you bruised, or how i want to fuck you so badly, but also sometimes i get this feeling like… like i don't want to fuck you, i just –" he cuts himself off with a groan, tugging at his long hair desperately.
you don't reply. you can't trust your voice. 
so you ease yourself out of his hold, which had gotten increasingly tight. with a hand, you guide his hands down from his hair and into yours, and bring your other palm up to touch his face. he goes limp at your touch, leaning into you like you were the only thing keeping him upright.
"why am i telling you this?" he whispers, eyes never leaving yours. 
"haechan-"
"you must think i'm pathetic." you feel his tears on your hand, hot and wet, before his breathing starts to pick up and soft whimpers rise from his throat. 
"don't say that." 
"i mean you," he gasps, words coming out in stuttered sounds. "y-you were the one who needed me to c-comfort you, and n-now i'm the one crying, and i…" he lets out a low sound, emotions overwhelming him all at once. "i really want to hurt the guy who made you feel like that." 
"haechan…" 
"where does he live? it'll only take 5 minutes i swear…" he swallows, hard. "i could take him in a fight, i saw him at the party…" 
"you're not going to get reported to campus police for him. he's not worth it." but you can tell your words are getting lost on him, his hands shaking as he fumbles them out of your grip, trying to intertwine your fingers. 
"i just need to do s-something right now," he breathes, hard. "anything. it hurts so bad, y/n. why does it hurt so much for me?" 
something about this — about him, calms you. the pain from before fading into a dull ache, and a new feeling swelling in your chest as you look at the boy in front of you. the feeling of being needed by someone grounding you, affection roaring in your ears as he leans into your touch, watching you like he was trying to decipher the thoughts buzzing like static in your mind. 
"take me home, haechan." 
he blinks up at you. 
"i want to go home," you whisper. 
and, drawing you into his arms, he does exactly that. 
he picks up your favourite ice cream on the drive home, and stays glued to your back on the elevator ride up. coddling you and cooing praises in your ear, tucking you into bed and drawing up a chair next to you as if you were ill. you ignore the fact that this was the first time you were indulging in his touch and it felt so right, the fact that he cried just because you did, for reasons he claimed not to know and you didn't want to admit. 
but as you watched him move around in your kitchen, putting away dishes from the dinner he made you — his broad frame stretching out his shirt, shoulder blades sharp under the warm light, you were met with the sinking feeling that the boy who was just out to fuck you might be out for something far worse.  
x
"i'm not setting you up with him," haechan's words come out in a blur. "okay? we're just walking to the party together." 
"yes, i'm aware of that. how many more times are you going to repeat this to me?" 
"haechan, why are you still hiding me behind your back?" 
"this is NOT a set-up!" he hisses, veins in his arms popping out as he keeps a firm grip on his friend, you presume, keeping him out of your sight. "i do NOT want you to like him, okay?" 
"okay haechan, i get it."
he looks at you, suspicious, but finally releases his hold, arms crossing over his chest instead as he scowls. "fine. y/n, this is my friend renjun." 
looking a little dishevelled, and very annoyed, renjun steps out from behind haechan. "hey." his face breaks into a sweet smile when he sees you, eyes brightening with recognition. "wait…were you in that statistics course from last semester?" 
"yeah i was! were you the one who did the project on social psychology? i thought it was so smart…"
"i had a lot of help with it," he beams back. "actually, i have more resources on the topic if you'd like them." 
"SHE DOESN'T WANT TO FUCK YOU." 
haechan's voice abruptly booms out in the middle of the street, making you and renjun jump. the handful of people passing by turn their heads to look at your trio, making shame burn low in your stomach as you wince apologetically. haechan's face is flushed, hands curled into fists by his side, a glare fixed upon renjun as if he were his worst enemy.
"haechan!" you whisper, annoyed. "did we not practice using our inside voice?" 
"fuck the inner voice!" he hisses back at you with equal venom, tugging you closer to him and away from renjun. his face screwed up, he jabs a finger at him. "she's not gonna fuck you dude. lay off her." 
renjun is looking back and forth between you and haechan, a knowing look settling onto his face as he meets haechan's frown with an easy smile. 
"don't worry about it, man. she's all yours." 
"yeah, that's right, she's mine," haechan repeats, savagely, before the words coming out of his mouth seem to take him by surprise. confused, he looks over at you, trying to figure out what exactly he just said. "wait…fuck i mean…um…"
"you know what? i'm going to go ahead first," renjun interrupts, giving you a small wave. "see you at  jaemin's."
"YEAH, GO AWAY RENJUN." 
"sorry," you mumble, now trying to free yourself from haechan's tight grip on your arm which he doesn't even seem to be aware of. 
"word of advice," renjun mutters to you, pointedly ignoring the way haechan was hissing at him. "pull on his hair. it shuts him up real fast." 
it's when you finally manage to pry his fingers off of you when haechan is brought back down to earth, throwing a venomous look at renjun's retreating back as he lets go of you reluctantly. 
you round on him. "well?" 
"w-well what?" he mumbles, looking away, acting out a textbook portrayal of guilty.  
you narrow your eyes at him, and some part of you is happy to see him gulp in fear like he usually does. "what do you have to say for yourself?" 
"i'm not the problem here," he mutters. "it's renjun. he's such a sleaze."
"renjun? a sleaze?" you laugh before you can stop yourself. "you're more of a sleaze than he is on a regular day." 
"ME?" he bursts out, head snapping to you. at least this time, the people in your vicinity seem to be used to the outbursts, and they don't bother to turn to look. "I'M NOT…that's not…" and then he's whipping out his phone, biting his lip in concentration, eyebrows drawn close together as he scrolls through whatever's he's looking at.
you sigh. "haechan, what are you doing?" 
"immoral…corrupt…sordid…" he raises his voice again. "fuck google definitions. why is it that none of these words mean what i think sleaze means?" 
"could you not change the subject?" you start, but he talks over you. 
"yeah," he emphasises, viciously. "you're right. see, i just wanted to expand your social circle, it's not my fault renjun was making eyes at you," 
"he wasn't-" 
"he was about to invite you over,"
"did you hallucinate-"
"that's so…so insensitive, like couldn't he just take a hint? and you were wearing your fuck-me skirt today-"
"i do NOT have a fuck-me skirt-"
"no it's a fuck haechan skirt that's what it is, because whenever i see you in it i-"
"will you shut up?" annoyed, you reach around to the back of his neck, and tug harshly on his long hair, really hoping to make it hurt. 
you expect him to stop talking, maybe cry out in pain. 
you're not expecting his knees go weak as he lets out an achy, high-pitched moan that shudders through his entire body.
x
"hey, haechan's quiet today!" jaemin points out, cheerfully. "y/n, could you pass me the pepper?" 
putting on a smile, you pass the shaker over to him. "we had an argument on the way here, that's probably why." 
"you two should fight more," jaemin says, before taking a sip of his soup. "dinner's almost over and he's barely made a sound."
renjun just smiles to himself.
"what. the fuck." 
haechan's still gasping for breath, and when you raise your hand absentmindedly, his arms shoot up quickly to protect his head. "don't-!" 
"i'm not going to do it again." 
"okay good." his arms fall to his side, before he's looking at you with a mixture of sadness and wistfulness. "wait…like…never?" 
you narrow your eyes. 
"y/n, can you come with me please?" haechan is looking at you urgently, leg bouncing as he tugs on your sleeve. "i want to talk to you in private." 
sighing, you excuse yourself from the table, letting haechan tug you away from the living room and into what looks like an empty guest room.
clicking the door shut, he sits down on the bed, patting the space next to him impatiently to get you to join him. 
"what's wrong?" 
"i want to ask you something." there's a sincerity in the way he reaches takes your hand, his voice steady, and calm, and sure. 
"okay…" 
"i've been good this past week, right?" he watches your face closely, looking for an answer. "like…i wanted to show you i care, and i wanted to take care of you and help you forget…your breakup…" 
"you've been really good to me, haechan," you affirm quietly. because he has. 
"and i've kept my thoughts to myself," he adds. "because…you told me to do that…" 
"yeah."
"do you…" he struggles with the words. "do you want me to keep…keeping my thoughts to myself? like, does it make you really uncomfortable…" he looks like he's in physical pain, brows furrowed in concentration.
"no, it doesn't…" you admit, feeling a little exposed. 
"what about…so if…" he twists at his fingers. "so if i…made a move…like the first time we met at the party…would you…?" 
"i think i would." looking away, feeling that the room was suddenly burning hot, you mumble out, "so you don't have to worry about holding back or-"
"-good, because i've been hard ever since you pulled on my hair." 
he's getting that look again, lips parted and swollen. he slides a hand around your waist, the weight of his body leaning on yours feeling all too familiar. only this time, there was no one and nothing you could put between yourself and the raw need that was in every fibre of his being. always brutally honest about how much he wanted you, looking at you with eyes that could swallow you whole. and now that there was no one else, you were free falling right into him.
your voice is scratchy with nerves. "do you want me to do it again?" 
"to be very honest, it kind of kills the mood when you ask," he mumbles, now pressing the pads of his fingers under your shirt and into your soft skin. 
laughing, you slide your hands up his neck and into his hair again, relishing in the way his body tenses and his breaths start to come shallow and fast. curling your fingers around the strands, you pull on them softly, increasing in pressure as he throws his head back. 
"fuck," he pants, hands moving quickly now, tugging at the hem of your shirt. "wanted this since the day i saw you." 
well at least he's honest. hesitating slightly, you grasp his wrists gently to stop his movements. "haechan…you know this is me giving you permission right?" 
"huh?" his eyes cloudy, he struggles slightly against you, hands still trying to reach for your skin. "i mean…yeah…"
"so after this, we'll figure something out?" you look at him hopefully, trying to meet his eyes which were currently darting around, scanning your body haphazardly. until you let out a gasp, because somehow he's overpowered you — pushing you onto the bed roughly, his hands now gripping your wrists and holding them above your head with one hand, the other resting heavy on your hip. 
"you talk too much," he says, lowly. swiftly pressing his lips to the side of your neck, he bites down on your shoulder next, and you hiss at the sting. in retaliation, you manage to release one of your hands from his grip, giving his hair a sharp tug — making him rut his hips into yours. 
"me? what about you?" you tease, breathless as he grinds into you, "with all your talk…all your thoughts, i kind of expected more…but you're whining and we've barely touched."
at that, he stills. 
he still has you pinned down by his weight on your torso, and above you, you can see the way his eyes darken, wheels in his head turning. 
"you're right," he says, quietly. releasing your hands, he crawls off of you to kneel on the bed by your feet, rough hands pulling at his belt. 
"r-right…about what?" now he wasn't lying on you, you felt a coldness travel through your body, making you crave his touch. sitting up to look at him, you swallow as he kicks off his pants. 
he wasn't lying about being hard. his cock looked thick and heavy in his palm as he squeezed his shaft, letting out a sigh. 
"haechan, what are you doing…?"
spitting in his hand, he starts tugging at his cock, slow and teasing strokes as he shifts his hips around in pleasure, settling his weight back on his heels as he hums. 
you place your hands on his thighs, shifting towards him, but with a speed and agility you rarely saw he grabbed both your wrists in his free hand, holding on to them tightly so you couldn't shake free. "you don't get to touch," he gasps, another moan ripping from his throat as his fingers press into his slit. 
"haechan," alarmed, you try to crawl over to him but his grip on your wrists holds you at a distance, pushing you back. the sounds he's making go straight to your core, high-pitched moans, drawn out and achy, gulping gasps of air between each one as if he was struggling to breathe. his hand speeding up, moving like a blur, swivelling his wrist and thumbing at a spot just below the blunt pink tip. precum dribbling out all over his hand as he starts to thrust his hips into the circle of his fist. 
"please," you rub your thighs together, pain and pressure building up in your core. his eyes, half-lidded and sultry, slide over to you almost lazily. 
"wait your turn, princess," he groans, mocking you with a whiny "ah…ah-" at the end. 
you're so frustrated you could cry. 
his whines and whimpers escalate in pitch, broken gasps and pants filling the air, and you can't wait for him to cum so it'll be your turn…
except suddenly he's letting go of his cock, a groan rumbling through his chest as it slaps up against his lower belly. 
a beat.
"did you like the show?" 
"you didn't cum," you mumble, dumbly. 
"i didn't think you deserved to see that yet." he releases your wrists. "see, that was your punishment." 
"for?" 
"for rejecting me for over a month even though i knew you wanted it." effortlessly pulling you into his lap, he smiles as he guides a hand under your skirt, rubbing your inner thigh with his sticky fingers. "sometimes when you look at me…i just know you're dripping wet in your panties."
"i'm not-"
"should we check?" he pulls at the seat of your panties, swiping his fingers on your folds. your thighs clamp shut on his hands, sensitive, and he laughs. "thought so." 
he traces light touches on your clit, alternating between rubbing circles and stroking gently. he brushes his fingers over your entrance and you crumble, grinding into his hand as you try to manoeuvre your hips closer to where his cock lies against his tummy. 
"so cute," he murmurs, pushing a careful finger into you, smiling to himself when you let out a soft moan. stroking against your walls, he adds another, starting to stretch you out as you rock your hips into his. his nose nuzzles at your neck, and you discover that all those times he's spent analysing the juncture between your jaw and your shoulder have paid off, because he finds your sweet spot in record time, his puffy lips mumbling against your skin and making you shake all over. 
"you're going to have to be a little quieter, baby," he says, gently. "don't want them hearing you outside." he adds another finger, humming delightedly at how you suck them in. 
"you-" you gasp, "but you were so, fuck, loud just now…"
"i don't care if they hear me." he starts fucking his fingers into you, thrusting them in and out of your core with loud wet sounds, his thumb applying pressure to your clit that makes your thighs tremble. "i know i sound good. you should record me next time, baby." 
your brain has gone foggy. this is the haechan that still pushed at the pull door to your lecture hall, the one you've been going to for almost half a year. this is the haechan who hid behind his hands when you would get mad at him, then would beg for you to keep going, i'm memorising this for later. 
this was the haechan…who was currently moaning softly in your ear, a sound so saturated with lust that it takes your breath away, and makes you release all over his hand. 
x
as it turns out, haechan isn't really into edging unless he wants to make a point. 
he's far more interested in overstimulation, as he makes you cum 3 times on the guest room bed. and he cums twice himself from fucking you. 
with intense concentration, he cleans up for you and tucks you into bed, worried eyes making sure you're okay. when he watches the way you walk, unsteadily, to turn off the light, he slides to his knees and freckles kisses all over your thighs and hips, murmuring apologies into your skin, torn between gloating and grovelling. 
"jaemin's okay with us staying," he whispers into the dark. and then, with unfiltered dreamy happiness… "i'm so happy i'm going to wake up next to you tomorrow."
your heart melts and dissolves as you reach for him, nuzzling into his chest. it's because you're so close that you hear the rumble of his sigh through his chest. "haechan?"
"hm?" 
"i don't want to confuse you…" 
pause. and then, quietly, "you always say that before you confuse me."
you sit up, his arms falling to your waist. 
"haechan…" 
"you look like an angel," he looks at you through his lashes, doll-like features pretty in the moonlight. when he realises he's caught you off guard, he continues, his drowsy, honeyed voice low and soothing, hypnotic as he appeals to you. "go to sleep, angel. i'll fuck you awake in the morning, i promise…" 
"don't try to seduce me, haechan. i want to talk about this." 
"worth a shot," he mumbles. "look, i don't know if you think i'm joking when i tell you i want you," his eyes flicker to the sheets as he tries to outline his thoughts. "but i already promised since day 1 that i wasn't leading you on." he sighs when you still look unconvinced.
"tell me what you're thinking, angel." he reaches for your hand, and presses a small kiss on your palm, guiding your fingers to cup his face. "give me a hint."
"question 21," you remind him. 
love and affection. understanding blooms on his face.
"what about it?" 
"i'm scared," you confess. 
"what are you scared of, angel?" he tilts his face to the side but his eyes never leave yours. "you want me, and i…and i…" he sits up a little so he can pull you down to him. you think you kissed him just now, but this one feels like the first time — his mouth moving gently on yours, suckling on your lip, his tongue gently slipping into your mouth, and the light sigh he lets out like he just tasted something sweet. he kisses you like he's just realised he has all the time in the world to, with no urgency, only the sweet indulgence of a boy who finally has what he wants right in his arms. 
"don't be scared," he whispers into your mouth when you break apart. "i'm serious about you."
"serious about me or serious about fucking me?" you ask, timidly. 
haechan looks up at you, the angel in his bed, and takes in the tension in your shoulders, the way you're holding your breath. 
if haechan was bad at homework, bad at assignments and impressing his professors, bad at reading the room and keeping his voice under control, there were things he was good at from experience. 
like how to tilt his face to showcase the pretty moles on his skin, how to pitch his voice like it was straight out of a filthy dream, and how to read people's body language to know what they wanted. how to read you.
"serious about whatever you're ready for," he says, gently. "affection, or love."
a moment passes. then another. then another. 
"haechan?" 
"yes?" 
"were you serious about fucking me awake tomorrow morning?"
x
"haechan, this is really, really bad." 
"i know." he exhales shakily, the sound amplified through your laptop speakers. "fuck, shit, i know." 
leaning forward to look at your laptop screen, you swipe back to the open tab you have of the document for your project. "how did you delete everything? and why can't it be restored?" 
"i don't-" a muffled choking sound. "i don't know." 
"i don't even want to tell you to stop crying," you say bitterly. "cry harder. it won't fix this." 
a strangled sound, barely audible over the music playing on his end. 
you swipe back to your zoom call with haechan. ever since you started giving in to haechan's relentless begging, it's been a lot harder for both of you to focus on your assignment. 
specifically, the number of times he's fingered you in the library or fucked you on his lap in his desk chair were now too many to count. 
so you've resorted to meeting up over video-call, using your laptops to provide a greater sense of occasion and to make it clear that these were meetings to do work. so far, they've been working out fine, but today he joined the call with his camera turned off, and only a guilty, shaking, voice told you to check the google drive, and please don't be mad. 
"so?" you don't bother to hide your anger, or to coddle him like you usually would. "are you going to fix this?" 
"dunno…" he gasps, whimpering when you roll your eyes. "dunno…fuck…dunno how…"
you tilt your webcam so you can really look into it, hoping that it's making him feel worse. judging by the wail he lets out, it does. 
"turn on your camera so i can see you," you snap. "and turn off the music. i want to hear you cry."
a muffled, guttural, sound. 
"really?" he sniffles, a loud sob crackling like static out of your speakers. "you w-want to…t-to see me…c-cry?" 
"don't play mind games with me, lee haechan," you warn. "i'm really fucking mad at you." 
"y-yeah?" he gulps, and you can hear it. 
"i'm so mad i could hit you right now." and you hear a sound of pain, a strangled cry ripping from his throat. 
"i wannit," he groans. "want you to hit me."
"forgot you were a masochist," you grumble, sarcastically. "how are you still in the mood to make jokes like that when we're going to fail?" 
he's panting, and a part of you starts to worry. is he hyperventilating? "i dunno, i'm sorry-" he gasps, voice raising in pitch. 
"haechan?" the anger hasn't completely faded from your voice. you're met with a hiccup, cut off by a wracking sob. switching tact, you make your voice go gentle, babying him the way you usually do to get him to do anything right. "turn off the music and turn on the camera for me."
he's still breathing heavily as you hear the sounds of fumbling, his phone falling to the floor as it disconnects from his speaker. silence fills the call, a tension so thick in the air as he pants into his microphone, and you hear his hands skid across the keyboard. 
you freeze when he turns on the camera. 
the background is different from your usual work calls. you see the headboard of his bed, an array of pillows propped up behind him as he slouches against them. but unlike your usual late-night calls, the laptop isn't balanced on his knees so that you can only see his face. 
its on the bed between his legs, giving you a full picture of his tear streaked face, the beautiful skin of his upper body, the jumping muscles in his thighs, and his thick weeping cock held in his veiny fist. 
he moans when he sees himself on camera, resuming his movements and watching himself carefully through tear-soaked eyelashes. 
"what the fuck?" you whisper, and he lets out a whiny sob, hand moving faster over his length. 
"what the hell is wrong with you?" your voice grows stronger as you watch his other hand close around his neck, choking back his sounds. "what the fuck?" his hand is dragging up his neck, he's slipping his fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, drool dripping down his wrist. "lee haechan!" you press your thighs together, trying not to let the scene get to you, but it was no use.
"love it when you-" he gasps, hips bucking into his hand. "get mad at me. i told you…ah, ah…you're so fucking hot when you're mad." he wipes the drool off his chin messily, and reaches down to stroke himself with both hands. 
"you're unbelievable," you snap, feeling your own hands drift to your thighs.
"and i…and i kept this thought to myself…" he moans, hand ghosting over his nipple as he whimpers. "but i always thought you looked like a camgirl when we call like this."
"yeah?" fuck it. you give in, crossing over to your bed. feigning indifference, you place the laptop on your sheets in front of you as you settle down and shrug off your sweatpants, grateful you had chosen to wear the white lace panties he liked. 
"mmhm," he hasn't noticed you yet, his head thrown back and eyes closed. "i came when you tilted the camera down…wanted see your tits so bad…" 
"if i was a camgirl, would you watch?" you slip your hand into your panties and let out a sigh, watching his cock twitch in his palm. missing the weight of it in your hand, on your thigh, and in you. 
"fuck yeah." 
"then why aren't you watching, baby?"
he moves so fast it's almost comical — eyes shooting open, he straightens to look at his laptop screen. the moment he sees you with your hand between your legs, panties so wet they were transparent, he cums, hard, thick globs of white cum oozing out of his tip as his legs tremble and a fresh wave of tears roll down his cheeks, his mouth falling open as he lets out a series of moans reminiscent of the filthiest hentai porn. 
"was that your second time, hm?" you moan, the sight of him making you rub against your clit even faster, your hips rocking into your hand. 
"third," he squeezes his cock again, pain darting across his face as he releases it, letting it soften against his thigh. "y/n… take them off please…"
"take what off?" you push a finger into you, sliding your other hand up your top to graze your nipples under your camisole. he whimpers at the sight. 
"everything…" his eyes cloudy and desperate, his cheeks flushed so read you'd be worried he was running a fever. "wanna see you…" 
you're focused completely on your own pleasure, your heart soaring to see him so completely fucked out before you. 
"haechan…" you try to keep your voice under control, try to hide that you were close. you just wanted to see how far he'd go. "if you're my baby boy, then what should you call me?" you pinch your nipples, letting out a gasp. the sheets feel silky against your skin as your legs kick in pleasure, your hand still working in between your legs.
haechan's breathing picks up. when you look down at your screen, he's touching himself again, squeezing the base of his cock. his mouth falls open as you see his lashes flutter, rolling back into his head as he mouths the words. 
whimpering, his lip wobbles as he looks at you on the screen. 
"mommy," he moans, again and again, until you both climax, and you're no longer sure if he's saying it for you or himself.
x
haechan takes your words to heart. like, he really takes your words to heart. 
when you tell him off-handedly that leather jackets look good on him, he buys 3 of the same and never wears any other jacket again. when you painstakingly teach him how to add a footnote to his document, he scrawls the steps down on a post-it and nudges you for validation each time he finishes a page, blinking at you like a puppy needing a treat. which is why he treats his rom-com watching sessions with you very seriously. 
"so it's bad that he didn't ask her out properly?" 
"yes," you nod, enthusiastically. "really bad. he shouldn't assume that she's interested and just act like he has a place in her life now — he has to earn it." 
"right, yeah, fuck him," he growls, scrawling on his notebook. 
you peek over at what he's doing — he's added 'not officially asking her out' on the 'no' list. 
"are you sure the double negative won't confuse you?" 
"the what?"
"nevermind." 
reaching for the popcorn, you peer at the screen. "oh, and that's a good thing." 
"where?" his head shoots up, and he squints at the screen. "what?" 
"see, he asked 'can i kiss you'?' playfully, you glare at him. "you rarely ask for anything." 
"that's not true…" he grumbles. "i asked you if i was making you uncomfortable…" 
"yeah, that was one time…" 
"i asked if i could eat you out last wednesday…" 
"that wasn't asking that was sweet-talking." 
"well can we fuck now?" he blurts out. running a hand through his hair, he tosses his notebook to the side. 
a pause. 
"well?" he raises his eyebrows. 
"uh, okay…"
"was that asking or sweet-talking? oh-" and for some reason, he blushes when he registers your response. "you said yes." 
fuck. "yeah, i guess." you place the popcorn down on the bedside table, feeling shy.
"well, as you wish, princess," he whispers conspiratorially, crawling over to you to pull you in for a kiss. 
"see," you mumble against his lips. "you didn't ask…"
"oh, fuck, yeah sorry." breaking away from you, he wipes his lips on the back of his hand. "re-do, re-do. um…" he lowers his head. 
"okay you don't have to re-do it i was just pointing it out…" 
"can i kiss you, angel?" 
you freeze.
he really was too pretty for his own good, his hair falling over his eyes, the ethereal flush to his cheeks. 
"yes, please," you mumble, and he surges towards you, pressing his tongue into yours and running his electric touch down your spine. 
"can i take your clothes off, angel?" 
you murmur your consent as he smiles wide, helping you out of your clothes but lightly slapping your hands away when you reach to do your bra. 
"this is my favourite part," he sighs, as he unhooks the clasps from behind your back, hooking a careless finger around a strap and pulling the lacy piece off of you, wetting his lips when he sees your breasts. 
"can i suck on your boobs?" 
"god, haechan-" he giggles as he takes one in his mouth, teeth lightly grazing on it from his smile. his hand comes up to the other one and he ghosts his touch over it, before deciding better and squeezing it roughly in his palm. 
kissing down your stomach, he reaches the band of your panties with a smile. 
"are you going to ask if you can take them off, haechan." 
"i was gonna ask if i could eat you out," he murmurs against your skin, kitten licking your inner thighs and sending chills up your spine. 
swallowing hard, you nod. "yes." 
nosing at your clothed clit, he sucks the seat of your panties into his mouth, lips puckered in an adorable way if he wasn't literally trying to suck it off your skin. 
"haechan…you can take them off," you say, weakly, feeling heat pool in your navel. 
"mmhm…" he says, both hands winding around your thighs to grip onto the fabric of your panties. "or i could do this." with one harsh movement he's ripping them off of you, holding the pieces of cloth in his hands gleefully as he plunges forward and sucks harshly on your folds.
"haechan," you half-moan, half shout. "why did you do that…" 
"i'm sorry, baby," he flattens his tongue and laps at you, flicking his tongue against your clit. "i'll buy you new sets, i'll buy you as many sets as you want…" stiffening his tongue, his prods at your entrance and tries to reach as far into you as he can, licking at your walls, his nose bumping into your clit as he tilts his head this way and that. 
the pleasure increases tenfold when he starts moaning, and you finally come to your senses enough to see how he's humping the bed, his hips moving in time with the way he was licking at you. "taste so sweet," he moans. "cum on my face, angel. fuck…" he whines obscenely, hips moving faster against the sheets as he shoves two fingers into you, making your back arch. "can you cum for me?" 
you let your orgasm crash into you, the pleasure burning through you and making you go lightheaded. haechan is whimpering and moaning, and you realise you have your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him away from your core and making his neck crane up. you almost let go before you remember that he likes it, so you pull a little harder and watch the way his hips stutter against the bed, achy moans filling the air as he cums. 
"sorry," he gasps, "fuck, sorry…" he crumples into your arms. "it felt so good…i couldn't help myself." 
"it's okay…" you still when you feel something prod at your entrance. "haechan-" but you're cut off by a loud moan, as haechan pushes his softening cock into you. "haechan, are you sure-"
"hurts," he moans. "but it'll feel better soon, it'll feel…fuck fuck fuck," his hips moving in an uneven rhythm, as if he can't decide whether to stop or go harder. "just a bit more…" he mumbles to himself. 
deciding to help him, you smooth your hands down his chest and wrap your legs around him. he loves it when you cling to him during sex, he's told you openly, and he bites back another sigh as the pain seems to dissipate into raw pleasure again. 
"just a bit more, baby," you murmur in his ear. he hiccups, nodding as he starts to pound into you in earnest, slapping sounds echoing in the room as his cock abuses the one spot inside you that makes you see stars. stretched out and filled by him, you rock your hips into his too, feeling his thick cock bulge inside you.
"can i cum in you, please?" he asks, softly, painfully. from where he lies on top of you, his brow glistening with sweat and his eyes watery from the overstimulation, you could never say no to him. he cums when you do, the feeling of your walls clenching around him being too much to bear, and he slumps in your arms, hips still pulsing against yours until you physically push him and he slips out of you.
haechan takes your words to heart. when you tell him to ask for permission, he does it throughout aftercare — asking for permission to run you a bath, to make you tea, to pull you closer in bed. and as you let his eyes meet yours, his gaze seeping into your pupils and making your mind go hazy, you wonder if he takes your words so seriously that he'll never consider moving from the affection you asked for, to the love you were too scared to want.
x
"did you forget something at my place?" 
"no." a pause. "if i did, it would be too late because i'm almost home."
"then why are you calling?" 
"because i'm cold, and my shoes are wet, and it's all your fault." he huffs petulantly, his words muffled by a pout you can imagine vividly in your mind's eye. "because you wouldn't let me stay the night." 
"haechan," you started. "i already told you i have really bad insomnia…" he grumbles to himself and you think you can hear him mocking your tone. "i really need to sleep for tomorrow because i have that test-" 
"oh yeah?" he bites back, annoyance clear in his tone. "and how's your sleeping going huh? are you talking to me in your sleep now?" 
you make an incredulous sound. "if anything you should be kinder to me since i evidently can't sleep right now-"
"you know i could have just fucked you right?"
what the fuck. the sound of footsteps on gravel crunch on even louder, anger evident in the way he's practically stomping his way back to his apartment. 
"haechan…what?" 
"sex and other forms of physical intimacy at bedtime have been shown to increase drowsiness, reduce the time it takes to fall asleep, and improve overall sleep quality," he rattles off. when you don't respond, the anger seeps back into his tone. "i'm not making this up! that's a direct quote from the chief of pul…shit, pulmo…pulmonology at Kaiser Permanente in Honolulu." 
"what's pulmonology?" 
"how the fuck should i know?" another frustrated crunch. "but she's the chief of it, so she should know what she's saying." 
your head is still reeling. stall, he gets distracted easily. "w-when did you look this up?" 
"two weeks ago, when you told me you had trouble sleeping." crunch. "i had a…a….hypothetical…?"
"hypothesis?" 
"don't interrupt me," he snaps. "i just remembered that people get sleepy after sex, and i knew there had to be a scientific reason. i'm not stupid you know." 
"i know…" you say, weakly. 
"but you wouldn't let me stay the night, for some reason you don't want to fuck me anymore, so now you have to suffer the consequences." the sound of a key fumbling in the door. 
"haechan…"
his voice drops an octave, a harsh rasp you've only heard when it was late at night or early in the morning. "i could have taken such good care of you, angel. i would've eaten you out…stretched you out on my fingers…" 
his next words are almost condescending. "would've fucked you until you passed out, or at least fucked you dumb."  
confusion, and something far stronger and deeper, tug at your stomach. 
"haechan?" your voice is a pale whisper. 
he hums. 
"i'm sorry. come back." you cringe at sound of your voice, small and achy, but you can't help yourself. 
there's silence on the other end. 
"you…want me to go back?" 
"please." 
and the line goes dead. 
x
it's a solid 15 minute walk from haechan's to your apartment, but it only takes 7 minutes after he hangs up for him to slam against your door, pounding on it with an urgency far too loud for 12.30am. 
when you open the door he crumples to the floor at your feet. he's drenched, completely, gasping and panting so hard you can see his chest move in and out with each shuddering breath. his mouth moving soundlessly, he crawls towards you, dragging himself up with a hand scrabbling at the wall, and your arms circle his waist immediately to steady him. 
his eyes are squinted shut in pain at what you assume is a stitch in his side, but he's still mouthing the same set of words over and over again soundlessly, too out of breath to vocalise them. 
"haechan, it's okay-" you splutter, helping him out of his rain-soaked sweater, his white shirt stuck to his skin underneath. "breathe. fuck, i told you to come back but i didn't tell you to sprint, did you fall? why would you-" 
"- don'tchangeyourmind," he rasps, gasping and hiccuping between breaths, the words finally ringing out in the still air of your apartment. "don't change your mind, don't change your mind…don't-" he coughs, his breaths still feeling more like punches than drawing air. 
"please don't change your mind," he begs.
his eyes are stealing the words from the cavity of your chest, drinking you in until you can't think of anything to say.
whimpering at your lack of response, he places his whole body weight on you, forehead gently nudging yours. "you told me to come back," he whispers. "i didn't want to give you any time to regret it. just now…when you made me leave…" his voice drops low. 
he was supposed to be the boy who just wanted to fuck you. but why did it sound like he was talking about something else entirely?
"i don't regret it, haechan," you say, softly. "and i could never…" you swallow. "i could never change my mind about you." 
he blinks, dazed. "i…" he takes a shuddering breath, and you tense up in fear. did he think you were alluding to something more? 
"haechan, i just meant-" 
"fuck, i don't understand anything you're saying," he blurts out. "i just know i want you, now." he drops his arms to your waist. "don't make me beg…i mean, fuck, if you told me to i would, but i just…" 
"you don't have to use your words," murmuring, you run your hands up and down his arms, and he shivers at your touch, closing his eyes.
"but you need to hear them," he insists. "words of affirmation…remember?" your heart thunders in your chest. 
"haechan…"
"i want to feel like i have you." his lips ghost over yours. "please?"
"please," you repeat back at him, and he's all over you. 
he carries you to your room, placing you gently on the bed. things go by in a blur, his gentle voice guiding you through the motions, skin against skin and his lips kissing you everywhere. before you know it, you're straddling his thigh as he drags your hips, grinding you down onto him as his mouth licks at your neck. 
"louder, angel," he pants, flexing the muscles in his thigh and making you whimper as you feel yourself coming close. this is the most silent he's been with you ever, his ears attuned to every catch of your breath, every choked sound you let out, that he falls silent to drink it all in. 
"need more," you beg. "need you, please…"
"you have me." his eyes soften, the sight of you falling apart on just his thighs giving him an aching feeling in his chest. this was different from the girls who would fall over themselves to talk to him, who used their own tricks to meet his. this was you, giving all your control to him. "you're doing so good for me."
sniffling, you grind harder against him, chasing your climax. "i am?" 
he allows himself a small groan. he wanted to swallow you whole. "come here," he says, tenderness straining at his voice. 
he stretches you out before he slips into you, waits until you give him the go ahead. he makes you wrap your arms around him, feet planted on the bed as your body intertwines with his, as he fucks up into you. he wants to feel you on him until he can finally decipher every look that flits through your eyes, until he can read your thoughts and drown in them. he presses a hand to your navel, and feels himself moving inside you, angling his hips until he knows he's ramming his tip against your sweet spot, feels your breath catch as if it were his own, your tears mixing with his sweat. 
he bites down on your shoulder when he cums with you. he doesn't know if it's to savour the sound of you falling apart because of him, or if it's to stop himself from admitting he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. 
x
when you wake up, he's in your bed. scrawling on a piece of paper. 
he doesn't notice you're awake, so you move closer to him on the pretence that you're still sleeping, watching through heavy eyelids the way he's muttering to himself, biting on his lip harshly. the ache between your legs gives you a sense of bliss, and the sight before you gives you an overwhelming sense of peace in your heart.
feeling your body shift, he absentmindedly reaches out to stroke your hair. it's that specific action that gives you the courage to sit up, your heart full. 
"good morning, haechan." 
"what's another word for fuck?" he's not looking at you, mindlessly chewing on his fingernails as his eyes dart across his piece of paper. 
"um…the verb or the expletive?" 
"the action." 
"why do you need another word for 'fuck'?" placing a hand on his shoulder, you lower your head to try and catch his attention. "haechan? what are you doing?" 
"i need another word for fuck because renjun told me not to use the word 'fuck'," he mumbles, crossing things out on his scrap of paper. 
"why?" you laugh, watching as his lips begin to pout slightly at how things were not turning out the way he planned at all. 
unable to stop himself, he lets out a whine. "because it's unromantic-" clenching his fists, he yelps as the speech he has scrawled out gets crumpled up. "fuck!" 
"haechan, it's okay," you're trying hard to keep a straight face, wanting to match his sincerity and tone. "is that a letter? for me?" 
"it's my script," he snaps. "it's my planned confession." groaning, he tries to straighten it out so he can read the words on it. "you said…you said it was a bad thing not to confess, which means it's a good thing to confess…" 
you feel like you're about to cry. "explain in your own words," you place a hand on his wrist. 
"i- you-" he takes a deep breath, letting the crumpled piece of paper fall off the bed and onto the floor. "you deserve someone who can keep up with you," he starts, quietly. "you deserve someone who will understand your jokes on first listen, who can hold long conversations with you without getting distracted by how hot you are when you're talking about something smart. i can't be that person." 
the words sting at your heart. is that really how haechan felt when he was around you? 
"but also-" his voice grows stronger, a hint of defiance in his tone. "i know for a fact that i make you laugh harder than anyone you know, even if you're laughing at me and not with me. i also know i can fuck you better than anyone you've ever been with, like, look-" 
he roughly pulls you towards him, lips finding yours messily. unfazed by the way your body tenses in surprise, he slips his tongue in your mouth just as he pulls you to grind onto his lap, causing you to gasp into his mouth. it doesn't take long for the shock to wear off, your body so attuned to him that a buzz runs through your veins — and you're just about to press yourself against him, starting to reciprocate his sloppy kisses, when he pulls away with a wet sound. 
panting, he swipes his thumb affectionately at the corner of your lips. "see?" 
you can't tell if you're frustrated that it ended so soon, or confused at what just happened. "see what?" 
"that was what, 15 seconds?" both your breaths come quick and fast, the tension in the room so palpable you could feel it press insistently against your skin. "and look at you now." a smile tugs at his lips, and he raises his eyebrows cockily. "i'm the only one who can do that to you." 
"yes, you are." you affirm.  
"yeah, because, i know how to touch you-" 
"because i'm in love with you," you interrupt, softly. 
and haechan literally stops breathing. 
you can see the way his chest stops moving entirely — his mouth hanging open, doe eyes wide. it's almost comical, the way his body freezes up. 
"i can't tell if you're doing that on purpose."  
still nothing. 
"did you really stop breathing?" 
"you love me?" 
he comes back to life spluttering, hands pointing to you, than himself, trying to make sure he hadn't heard wrong. 
"i love you," you repeat, gently. placing your palms on his chest, you feel his beating heart under your fingertips.
"you're not scared anymore?" he places his hands on your face in wonder, brushing a thumb on your cheekbone. you let yourself fall into his eyes, soft in the morning light. "you make it the easiest thing in the world," you whisper. the two of you bask in the moment, him breathing in your air, leaning closer and closer to you. your lips brush.
"fuck."
you whine as he pulls away, a horrified look on his face.
"y/n, i think i brainwashed you into loving me," he whispers, voice laced with genuine fear.
sighing, you gently bump your forehead with his. "if you make this about your dick..."
"no," he lets out a strangled sound. "that day, when we were calling and i was asking you questions..."
"haechan i swear to god-"
"those were 36 questions to make you fall in love," he whispers, pained. "y/n...i think i manipulated you. fuck i knew science was real, but i didn't know it was that useful-"
"after we make out, i'm going to have to explain the difference between pseudo-science and science to you", you grumble, as you push him back onto the bed and close the distance between you.
x
he whispers it into your hair, your face buried in his bare chest one night, his arms wrapped securely around you. 
"i don't want to go back tonight." 
"then don't." you hold him a little tighter, feeling him shift under your touch. "stay." 
"no, as in, i don't want to go back, ever." 
"haechan." 
he hums, hands starting to stroke at your sides, rubbing his thumb against the swell of your chest. 
"is this your way of asking to move in with me?" 
"i dunno…" 
"you do know that it's a big thing in a relationship right? and you're going to have to actually move out of your apartment, and figure out the rent on mine, and…"
"i don't care about that," he mumbles, a hint of stubborness in his tone. breathing in your hair, his voice drops even lower. "all i know is, i want to wake up tomorrow right here, with you. and the day after tomorrow. and the day after." 
"yeah?" 
his arms fall away from you as you sit up, brushing your hair out of your face to look at him in the lamplight. propped up against the headboard, his eyes wide and gaze so tender it steals your breath away like a blow to your ribcage. you can see the hesitance written all over him, the slight tension in his shoulder-blades, his fingers fiddling absentmindedly with the sheets. 
"please say yes," he whispers, more to himself than to you. 
"haechan…" you take his hands in yours, and kiss his fingertips gently. "please move in with me." 
exhaling in exaggerated relief, he pulls you onto him and kisses you deeply. mouth moving against yours, his eyelashes fluttering as he focuses on your tongue moving against his, his teeth grazing your lips. trying to convey all the love he had for you in the way he gently held the back of your neck, his other pressing down on the small of your back until your body curves into his. 
"if you move in with me," you smile, breathlessly, when he finally lets you go. "you can finally fuck me awake, like you promised." 
a pause. 
"is that all i am to you?" sadly, he runs a hand absentmindedly down his beautiful body, landing on his thighs. his eyes are downcast when he mumbles out, "just a hot body for you to fuck?" 
panicking, you lean into him quickly, cupping his face in your hands as you settle down on his lap. "baby, you know that's not true. you're the most genuine, kind, loving….." you trail off, eyes narrowing when you realise he's biting his lip to keep from laughing. "manipulative, conniving…" 
his eyes crinkle adorably as he wraps you in his arms, rubbing the tip of his nose on yours. "you love me soooo much," he whispers, almost conspiratorially. 
yes.
pause. "also, what does conniving mean?" 
yes. you did.
taglist: @puduwhore @haechanalpha @anniebyanto @sunnynaa @newdeobi @strwberrydinosaur @gyulfriend @91qowngus, @sundhaelatte, @jaemboi64, @sassy-author, @matchahyuck, @prdshobi @beomibeom
-> go to part 2 here!
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cybrsan · 5 months
Text
Miracle Of The Season — J.JK
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STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.
PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader
RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU
WORD COUNT: 17.2k
WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape
OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex
A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.
A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.
LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.
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"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"
You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 
Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.
"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 
You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 
It makes you sick. 
The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 
You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  
Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 
The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 
At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 
You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 
And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.
Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 
There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 
There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 
When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 
Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 
When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."
His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.
Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 
Jungkook.
Your Astrom. 
The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 
Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.
A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  
Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.
At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 
Lost Star Shelter.
The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 
You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 
"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 
"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.
"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"
You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."
You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.
You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 
After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.
Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 
As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 
"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 
You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 
She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.
"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."
Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 
"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."
Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."
"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.
A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 
The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 
You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 
Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 
"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 
The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 
Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.
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The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.
You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?
You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.
“Excuse me?”
He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 
"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"
He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.
"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."
“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.
He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 
"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."
“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.
“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 
“I hope you’re right.”
The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 
His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 
As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.
Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 
Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 
The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.
“Y/N.”
He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.
“I cannot believe you are alive.”
What?
His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 
His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.
But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   
“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 
“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 
He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 
“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”
“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."
"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 
“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”
“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.
“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 
“What are you talking about?”
"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 
He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 
His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 
“That’s not what Namsu told me.”
“Namsu? The Throne?” 
“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”
His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”
"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."
"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 
His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 
"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."
"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."
"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"
"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.
Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 
Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”
“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”
The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 
"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 
His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 
"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."
"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."
"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."
His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."
"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.
Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."
"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 
He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."
"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."
Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 
"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 
He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."
"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."
He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."
Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.
"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."
You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"
"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”
"You're serious?" 
Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.
"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."
"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."
He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.
"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."
His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"
"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 
Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.
“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”
He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”
You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 
"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."
"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”
He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.
“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 
"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."
Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."
"Hm? What does?"
"Being human."
"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 
"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."
He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 
"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."
"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."
You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.
"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."
"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"
You swallow hard. "A bit."
You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 
"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.
"Is that frowned upon?" 
"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 
"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."
"Exactly."
"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.
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"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 
Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 
"Then he can stay with me!"
"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."
"We'll make it work!"
"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 
"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 
Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 
Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 
"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 
"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 
"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 
You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 
Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.
"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 
"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 
"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 
I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.
"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 
"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 
"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 
"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"
You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 
"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."
He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."
"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"
"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."
You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 
Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.
"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 
Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 
“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”
Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."
“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 
Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.
"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."
"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."
"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 
"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 
You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."
"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 
You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 
"What is 'flirt’?”
"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."
"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"
You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 
"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 
As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 
Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 
"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 
"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 
"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."
"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."
"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 
You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 
As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 
"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."
"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."
"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 
The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."
You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 
"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 
"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."
"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 
You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 
With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 
Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 
"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 
You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.
After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.
"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.
Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.
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Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.
"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."
"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"
You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."
Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.
"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”
You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 
"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 
You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 
It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.
"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."
"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.
You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."
He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"
You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 
"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."
"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 
Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."
"Try harder doing what?" 
"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 
"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 
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Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 
Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.
Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 
One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 
You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.
He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 
"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 
"That's good to hear.”
Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?
Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”
“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”
“Kiss?”
“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 
“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."
Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.
"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.
He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.
"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"
He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.
You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  
"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 
Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 
You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.
When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.
"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.
"I… no," you say. 
"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”
"Is that so?" 
"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 
You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  
Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."
"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."
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With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.
You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 
He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.
His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 
"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.
"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.
His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"
You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.
The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”
“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 
“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 
Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.
He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 
He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 
You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”
"There is one God. That is what we were taught."
"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”
Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 
"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 
"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”
You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."
You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.
When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 
"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.
He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”
“You would be correct.”
“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."
"What about them?"
He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 
You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.
"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 
He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"
"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."
"More than our purpose?" 
"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 
Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 
You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.
"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.
"I will."
He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.
"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 
"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."
His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.
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It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.
Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.
“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”
"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.
She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."
"Naomi!" 
"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 
You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.
He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.
The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.
As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.
The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.
The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.
"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.
"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."
"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."
"What happened?" 
You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.
"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 
"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"
A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."
Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 
Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.
"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 
You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 
"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.
"What about me?" 
"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."
"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 
"What do you mean?"
"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."
"But… you can only do that if you're—"
"Human, yes," he interrupts. 
"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"
"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 
The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 
“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”
"W-what words?"
He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."
You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 
"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.
"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."
"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 
"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”
"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.
Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”
"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.
For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.
"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."
His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."
"This will change everything," you say again.
"I know," he replies simply. 
"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 
As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.
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The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."
You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 
"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."
"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."
You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.
"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.
"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 
"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.
"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 
Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 
"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 
"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.
His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."
You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 
"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."
Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 
"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.
Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 
"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."
You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."
The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 
"You aren't in pain?” 
��No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"
"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.
He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 
You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 
He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 
His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.
"What was that?" he asks.
"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 
"I want to hear it again." 
His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.
"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 
"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 
He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 
"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."
He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 
You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.
"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.
You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."
His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.
"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."
Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.
"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 
"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."
Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 
"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 
Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 
"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 
A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 
His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 
You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."
You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 
He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.
Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 
Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”
Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 
You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."
He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 
"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.
His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.
"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 
Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 
"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.
"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 
You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 
He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 
Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.
"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 
"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.
"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 
His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 
Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."
His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.
"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 
He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."
The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.
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The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 
You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.
"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 
As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 
He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."
"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."
"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 
Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"
"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"
"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 
Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.
"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"
"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."
"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 
She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"
You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 
"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"
"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.
Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 
Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 
"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 
Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."
"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"
His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 
"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"
"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”
Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.
"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."
"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."
You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."
"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."
"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"
"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 
You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?
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TAGLIST: @yessa-vie
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hoes4hoseok · 21 days
Text
enhypen as the tortured poets department
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pairings :: ot7 x gn!reader (if i accidentally slipped in a gender-related mistake please let me know!) genres :: angst & fluff warnings :: swearing, alcohol, mentions of food, sorta emotional cheating, reader being down bad ™️ word count :: 2.1k author’s note :: thanks to ogs @sunoosill and @fandomgirl489 for helping me hehe love you guys! also i kind of tried something new with this one, they're actual little fics this time so let's see how it's recieved 😭 that being said i lowkey hate this. i started doubting all my choices once i was like 60% done but this took an embarrassingly long time. also this is unedited because i'm sick of this draft. i hope y'all enjoy though!
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ni-ki as my boy only breaks his favorite toys
“i felt more when we played pretend than with all the kens cause he took my out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts, told me i’m better off, but i’m not”
ni-ki swept 👏 you 👏 off 👏 your 👏 feet 👏 when you first met
because he doesn't seem like he'd necessarily approach a relationship the same way as everyone else just because everyone else is doing it
so when he asked you out he was pretty nonchalant about it (even if that wasn’t how he was feeling)
&& it all felt so romantic because you’d do things like get dessert in the middle of the night & then drive into the hills together 
especially because he didn’t treat you the same way as the other people he dated — a fact his friends confirmed.
he was passive about it all before you.
there wouldn’t be any doubt that he loved you because he most certainly did
not to be cliché but he made you see the world differently! & more importantly, he made you see romantic relationships differently
but you could tell that he had a sense of uncertainty around you
not because he was uncertain about his feelings for you
but an uncertainty that told him that he needed to spend each moment like it could be taken away from him in the blink of an eye
he knew he was feeling too much — he knew you were feeling too much
because ultimately, he was unsure about whether he was right for you.
so he left you, promising that you’d be better off without him.
you weren’t.
sunoo as down bad
“for a moment i knew cosmic love, now i’m down bad, crying at the gym”
sunoo would be such a good boyfriend on paper
he'd buy you flowers & give great hugs, of course, but he'd also be supportive & reassure you when you felt insecure and unsure about your place in the world
that being said, sunoo is not one to string people along
so the moment he realized that he wasn’t 100% in, he made a plan to end things & he did.
&&...losing sunoo fucked you up. it would fuck anyone up, to be fair.
finding out that he was leaving you when the relationship was everything to you would catch you off guard, to say the least.
he probably left feeling proud of himself for doing everything right too LMAO 😭 
&& yes, i don't think it's anything he did that made it so bad
it's just that break-ups suck & you really loved him! even if he “did everything right”
no matter how it transpired, you were still in shambles at the end 
you broke down in tears at the sight of anything that made you think of him
from the smell of gardenias in a grocery store
‘he bought me those 🤧! for our first anniversary 🤧!’
to the most upbeat song you’ve ever heard coming on shuffle while you work out
‘he loved that song’ (even if you couldn’t stand it)
&& you really hoped he was feeling a shred of what you were 
but it sure as hell didn’t seem that way.
jungwon as fresh out the slammer
“all those nights, you kept me going, swirled you into all of my poems”
you & jungwon had a lot of your own problems to deal with the first time you dated
likely because he had a lot on his plate at the time as an idol & you were just at different places in your lives
&& even though your brain was telling you not to, you fell in love fast
he’d taken you to a quiet spot in his hometown that he used to go to when he was overwhelmed as a kid
it was an old swingset at the park where, somehow, everything else had been renovated
the two of you sat there for hours with your hands entwined, talking about your futures 
&& the possibility of them ending in the same place.
it felt childish & implausible, but you wanted to believe it
&&, as the break up proved to you, it was, in fact, childish & implausible to believe that your lives could magically become compatible
you tried to move on, you really did. you dated other people for years. 
one boyfriend stuck around for four years. a coworker. your future with him felt written in stone.
he was good to you, but there was a part of your heart that yearned for more
the part that yearned for the type of connection you had on the swingset all those years ago
you didn't spend that time waiting for jungwon — you accepted that you were going to spend your life content with your boyfriend
but you sometimes thought about what it would be like if you met jungwon under different circumstances or another life where his career wasn’t so controlling and demanding of him
you would smile listening to his music (that you subconsciously hoped was about you) 
&& checked how he was doing online periodically
but then you were single. it was something your boyfriend said about not seeing a future here. not seeing a future with you. when you gave him four years of your life. 
you knew you should have felt more, that you should have been torn apart for months
but a week later, you picked up the phone & dialed the number that had been seared into your brain for six years
“y/n?”
his voice was almost a whisper.
“do you think you could take me to that park again tonight?”
“i’ll be there in 10 minutes.”
“thank you.”
“y/n?”
“yeah?”
“i missed you.”
heeseung as the alchemy
“where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me”
when you started dating heeseung, you knew it would be really easy for him to put you low on his priority list being an idol
&& you wouldn’t have blamed him for that 
because your careers are important, especially at this point in your lives (also your exes probably did that with much less demanding jobs)
but he didn’t! he told you it would be tough but that he’d try his best to make sure you had time together even with his insane packed schedule
&& try he did omg 🤭 that man put in the WORK
he would show up towards the end of your workday just to whisk you off on a date 🫶
which you not-so-secretly loved for two reasons:
one: it reminded you that he loved you & valued your career as much as you valued his
two: he’s really hot. so it’s fun to see everyone’s reaction to him showing up heehee
&& after your workday he’d take you wherever you wanted
but you’re indecisive at times, so he’d just guess sometimes.
it was usually your favorite restaurant or a massage parlor, but once he literally took you to the airport for a getaway? who knows what he has planned lmfao
you loved getting surprised by your boyfriend, of course, but the nights when you were at his concert to support him? those meant the world to you.
you swore that you’d never forget the look on his face when he realized you were in the crowd the first time you surprised him
but honestly? his excitement never faltered. he still wears that childish grin every time he sees you showing up for him
&& the post concert kisses are incomparable to all the others 
because he kisses you like you’re the stars in a rom-com. every. damn. time — whether it’s backstage or in front of 20,000 people.
jay as chloe or sam or sophia or marcus
“if you want to break my cold, cold heart, just say ‘i loved you the way that you were’”
jay was hurting you
with every instagram post he uploaded with a woman you didn’t recognize,
at every red carpet appearance where he had someone else on his arm,
with every polite smile he greeted you with when you crossed paths.
you broke up with him. years ago, at that. you had no right to feel this way.
his mind seemed scattered in your time together & he was unsure about most everything
at first, it had seemed like you were the exception to that.
until you weren’t.
when you broke it off, you told him you loved him. & that maybe you always would.
he might have loved you.
but if that was the case, he never told you.
on occasion, you thought about how he felt seeing you date around aimlessly.
had he done the mature thing & moved on?
did his jaw clench seeing another man kiss you the same way it did before you dated?
did he care about what you were thinking as much as you did about him? 
there were times that you’d stare at his contact, finger hovering above the ‘call’ button
almost hoping your finger would slip so you’d have the chance, the smallest chance to hear him say
“i loved you the way that you were.”
(i really want to write a oneshot about this actually? maybe?)
jake as so high school
“get my car door, isn’t that sweet, then pull me to the backseat, no one’s ever had me, not like you”
jake was so obsessed with you before y’all started dating HEHE probably from the first time that he had a conversation with you!
he was so enthralled by the way you think & see the world
&& he blushed and stumbled on his words every time he talked to you for months & his friends would tease him RELENTLESSLY
he got so nervous before following you on social media that he had to employ his friends to help.
“guys, just press it for me. i can’t look!”
he probably thought about asking you out on many occasions but chickened out for one reason or another every time
but then he saw you at the local convenience store while he was out getting ramen at 2 a.m. — or rather, you saw him.
"jake?" he'd know that voice anywhere. oh god oh god oh god oh god
he needed a moment to compose himself, but he pulled himself together enough to look up at you & greet you properly <3
his stress slipped away fairly fast after that & you found yourselves shopping for your respective midnight snacks together
"have you tried this one? it's probably my favorite limited edition flavor" you had said, pointing to your favorite candy
which, naturally, he responded to by pulling a handful into his basket 😚
you didn't know whether he wanted to try it because you liked it or he was buying it for you, but either way, you found it endearing
after you both paid, jake took your groceries in his other hand, declaring that he'd carry them to your car for you
which, of course, wasn't possible. you had walked.
😧...😟...😶...🤔...☝️😲 "i could give you a ride! i don't want you walking home alone at this hour. or i could call you an uber if you're not comf—"
"i'd really like that"
&& then his heart would damn near explode at the sight of your smile. because how could it not.
he fumbled with the bags before opening the passenger door for you
&& on the drive there he'd stare at you with heart eyes while you talked at every red light
you'd have to tell him it turned green because he was just so distracted hehe
oh my god not this being my second fic about jake driving you home,, 🫣 IT'S FUNNY BECAUSE I DON'T PLAN THESE I JUST GO WITH WHAT FEELS RIGHT
i'm just hilarious, this does not show anything about what i want irl, absolutely nothing.
sunghoon as i look in people’s windows
"what if your eyes looked up & met mine one more time?"
you & sunghoon had a mutual break up, but it didn't feel that way a month after it happened
especially not when you were walking alone down the street his friend lived on & noticed the light shining through the large window
contrary to what you told yourself (i don’t even care if he’s in there) you approached the warm light warily
you didn’t really know whether you were hoping to see him in there, but you did — he was laughing with a few people, glass of wine in hand
&&…you weren’t expecting a flood of memories to overcome you in the way they did.
memories from when you were invited. memories from when you called them “our” friends & not “his” friends. memories from when you were the one making him laugh.
you didn’t notice your mouth fall agape or the tears welling in your eyes until sunghoon met your gaze with a tilt of his head, his smile falling as he registered your presence
for a moment, your mind rushed to decipher the look on his face — the way his eyebrows were slightly furrowed, the way his mouth fell agape too — the same expressions you used to be able to read so well.
finally tearing your gaze from sunghoon, you noticed his friends turning back to look out for whatever it was that made their friend so unsettled
they never saw you. you ran before they could.
perhaps if you had stayed a moment longer, you would have heard the front door open.
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Want You Back | ateez x reader
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Pairing: werewolf!ot8!ateez x werewolf!reader
Genre: fluff mostly, romance, poly, a little angst?
Warnings for this chapter: mention of an emotional affair
Word Count: 3143 words
a/n: the chapter I have been waiting for. :') it is time. I look forward to your reactions and feedback! It'll definitely help me work on my writing for these types of scenes in the future! :D Enjoyyy! <3
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Chapter 7
When you thought about it, you had a lot of feelings going on at the moment. Your emotional state felt like a merry-go-round that was never-ending. There were times when you didn’t know what to think when it came to your situation with the boys. This was one of those times.
All your life you had learnt that the bond between mates was sacred and predestined. You were taught that it was something that couldn’t be explained with logic, it was a connection so heavenly and divine, you were tied to one another for forever and more. To a point, you believed that there was indeed a revered and sanctified essence to the bond you and your mates created. But was it really unbreakable? 
When you sought therapy from Chan’s friend Ryunjin, she didn’t give you a complete doom and gloom outlook on things. She reassured that there could be a possibility of reconciliation but, not everything was necessarily foreordained. 
“Is it even worth it to continue? I feel like it’s all been a lie.” you dispassionately asked.
“In a perfect world, there would be no mistakes. So then, it might be fair to walk away in that case. But realistically, we are all prone to committing errors, and if we were to always leave and continue searching for perfection, we’ll always be searching and never satisfied.”
“I don’t know if I could trust them.”
“That’s fair, you don’t need to immediately off the bat, you should first talk to them and take it from there. I‘ll be honest, you know deep down the right answer, it’s up to you to decide what is best for you.”
Yes, fate allowed you to meet the boys.
Yes, fate brought you all together as each other’s mates.
Yes, fate played a significant role in your relationship when you thought about it.
But fate also played a harsh game with you, as some would say. You were thrust into an emotional upheaval and everything you ever knew and were told about love and relationships was far from the truth. So yes, you believed a relationship was sacred and you believed people were meant to come into your life and cross paths for a reason. But it did not mean they would necessarily always be a part of the journey.
Ultimately, you still loved the boys. And deep down, the thought of just walking away felt unacceptable given that there was still a lot that you wished to communicate, discuss and get off your chest. Once you had gotten past the anger that simmered inside of you like a boiling pot, you felt more reassured that you could have a civil discussion with a firm and determined but also calm resolve.
It surprised you just how much anger there was contained in you. As you continued your sessions and Ryunjin continued asking questions and poked you for answers, it all erupted like a volcano. 
And it felt really good to let it all out.
However, you didn't expect things to happen so soon. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you weren't really sure when the right time would present itself, so you decided to leave it up to fate. If anything, your belief had been further strengthened given the last few months. Life may have been harsh, but it resolidified the courage and strength that you didn’t realize you had in you.
Minho had informed you that your bond to the boys would remain passive as if it was in a deep slumber until you chose to communicate with them. With no communication in the past six months, they could not sense where you were but rather feel your lingering presence somewhere. 
At the window, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho all stood with glassy eyes as they peered inside. Only Hongjoong wore an unreadable expression.
Your mind wandered to your past. 
Kim Hongjoong was the reserved but charming boy in your primary school who you befriended as it was just the two of you who sat at a table alone, everyone else in their own little groups. He looked at you occasionally and you thought he was weird. It wasn’t until during lunch when you heard some of your classmates snickering about you behind your back, he passed you a cookie, sat next to rather than opposite you, and told you he liked your hair which was in a pretty French braid. He then attempted to engage in a conversation about which games you liked to play and things you liked to do. Though a bit apprehensive, you became comfortable with him after a while and from then on, the two of you were two peas in a pod.
As you got older, it wasn’t necessarily a romantic bond. Being the two introverts that you were, both of you spent time fairly often together and hardly with anyone else. You were best friends and wherever one of you was, the other was sure to be there or nearby. When both of you attended high school, Hongjoong was the center of attention for most girls. They would gift him lavish presents on his birthday and any holidays that came by, hoping that he would return their feelings. He didn’t but you found it amusing how well liked he was. 
“They don’t know how annoying you really are.” You joked.
He would respond by playfully pulling your ear and ruffling your hair. Hongjoong never told you this, but as much as he liked to mess with you, he also liked to take care of you. When you would question if your hair looked good, he would gently fix it and tell you how beautiful you looked. He would wait for you outside your classroom when your classes were separate and treat you to delicious snacks and treats from time to time. He couldn’t explain it at the time, you were special to him although you weren’t bonded, and it irked him when someone would try to woo you off your feet.
Like the time you received a rose from a classmate for your birthday, Hongjoong was not amused. He latched onto you and followed you everywhere you went, and then brood at the person trying to sweet talk you.
Then on your 16th birthday, you both bonded and realized you were each other’s better half. It all made sense now in your minds and Hongjoong adored you more than anything.
The next two years were just the two of you, filled with fondness, devotion and tenderness.
Snapping back to the present, you were frozen in your spot. There they were, and excluding Mingi, it had been six months since you last saw them. They all still looked the same as far as you could tell in contrast to yourself, who now sported blonde highlights and layered hair complimented with a small nose ring on the right side of your nose. 
You invited them in, joined two tables with their assistance and brought out eight cups of peppermint and chamomile tea. You sat at the head of the table with four boys each on either side. No one attempted to break the lingering silence.
Until Seonghwa did.
"Your hair looks very pretty." He complimented in a sweet soft voice.
"T-thank you." You slightly bowed, touching your hair. It caught you off guard, they seemed to be so calm and that puzzled you.
"Mingi told us about you being here,"  Yunho stated, "We felt your bond after a long time."
"Mhm," You nodded in response, "When I got cornered, I initiated it to alert Mingi."
"Who were they?" San asked.
"Humans turned into rogues actually. My friend Changbin did some research, just like what we heard back home, some of the rogues managed to escape here and turned anyone who offered their loyalty and liked to wreck havoc."
You heard slight snarls emitting from some of the boys. Given everything that happened with the rogues, each of them was ready to tear any of them apart if given the chance.
"We're so glad you're okay. When Mingi told us what you've been doing, we felt comforted to know you were somewhere safe." Jongho declared.
Hongjoong scoffed. 
There it was. If there was anyone out of eight of them who wouldn't hesitate to hide his annoyance and anger, it would be Hongjoong. 
"Are we done with the small talk and pretending like we aren't mad?" He announced.
"Hongjoong." Seonghwa warned.
"No, I will not keep quiet," he seethed, turning to you with pure, fiery anger in his eyes, "Tell me Y/N, was it fun? Frolicking around and pretending like you didn't have any mates waiting for you."
"Hongjoong!" Wooyoung yelled.
But Hongjoong ignored everyone and continued, "We were worried sick, we were broken, we needed you and here you are living your life without any regret."
"It's not like that Hongjoong." You started.
"That's enough Hongjoong!” Mingi exclaimed.
"No, it's not enough, don't you remember the pain you were feeling Mingi? The aching feeling and sleepless nights. We were all miserable, and not just us, the young ones at the daycare were pining for her too but she didn't even care."
"You don't know..."
"Don't know what? Tell me what I don't know Y/N. Because it seems my mother was right about you."
That one statement paused everything. For a moment, you reeled yourself at Hongjoong's words. Kim Hongjoong was the first one you met, the first one you bonded to and the first one you kissed and shared most intimate moments with in the beginning before meeting the others. It was just you and him before meeting Mingi and now, he sat across from you saying the one thing you hoped you would never hear him say.
"Maybe my mom was right."
Mrs Kim hated you and you never knew why. But those sessions with Ryunjin revealed something.
“She hates you because you have what she couldn’t.”
It didn't take long for you to see red. The anger you once thought you had come to terms with erupted again and in your subconscious you slowly put the pieces together. Hongjoong's mother was the reason for the majority of your insecurities and while the boys did carry their own faults in neglecting you, she was the cause that made you spiral further. She was the one pushing Lila and she was the one who would make comments about the boys not liking a whining Luna, and the "fact" that a Luna is supposed to not be a nuisance to her mates. All because, in her eyes and mind, she saw you as an embodiment of what she could never have again.
And just like that, you snapped.
"You're a real piece of work Kim Hongjoong," you snarled viciously. 
Hongjoong's eyes snapped in surprise along with everyone else’s by your tone. No Luna as far as it was known would use that kind of tone with her mate. And the fact that you did was extremely shocking to them.
"What did you just say to me?"
"You heard me," you bit back ferociously, "You have the guts to sit there and accuse me so shamelessly as if you are a saint who never messes up or makes a mistake." 
Hongjoong didn't respond, he glared at you trying to assert dominance but failed.
"You're talking about the pain you felt, okay fine, I won't dispute your feelings. But what about how I felt? What about my sleepless nights and my aching heart. Does none of that matter? You’re completely disregarding my feelings? I was falling apart Hongjoong! I was crushed and at my wits end and you know more than anything how hard I tried to get your mother's approval, only for you to sit there and tell me she was right? Was she really? Because I sacrificed a lot more than you did Kim Hongjoong and you know that. What do you not know Hongjoong? You know everything and you know exactly what you did." You barked.
"Wait..." Yeosang interrupted, "Y/N what do you mean?"
You narrowed your gaze at Hongjoong who looked everywhere but at you, poking his cheek with his tongue. Tears streamed down your face uncontrollably and you felt your resolve breaking apart slowly but you held your ground.
"Do you remember what you told me Hongjoong? I should dress up more like Lila. Kind of funny how you were so into how she dressed and what she wore. I knew you two had a similar interest in fashion, so I tried to write it off, but then the way you hugged her, the way you were so into what she was doing, your "harmless" messages…you knew exactly what you were doing."
"What are you trying to say—"
"YOU WERE HAVING AN EMOTIONAL AFFAIR!” You shrieked. “You were emotionally cheating on me Hongjoong and you knew exactly what you were doing. You knew my insecurities but you didn't care, you expected me to keep quiet and still be there for you because "I'm your mate" and I was supposed to listen to you and obey. You were using me Hongjoong exactly like what your mother did to your father."
The breaking of this revelation sent everyone in a spiral. They hadn't realized till all the pieces clicked together. That's why Hongjoong had Lila around so much, that's why he would keep suggesting they all should stay out late and do things. He was trying to cover his tracks because not only was he emotionally cheating on you but also on them. But it would have only been clear when you found out.
Hongjoong's mother did the same thing to his father after Hongjoong was born. It was during the sealing of the realms and his father, being clan leader, was away majority of time as a witness to the sealing. Mrs Kim found solace in another clan member until Mr Kim found out and denounced his bond with her. They continued to live together for the sake of their children as having separated parents was frowned upon and subjected the child to unfair treatment, but Hongjoong’s father built up a lot of resentment for years to come and never considered rekindling the connection. He wanted nothing to do with her romantically. 
As such, Mrs Kim didn't like the way you were living such an idyllic life — you had a blissful relationship that she would never have again. 
And she rathered Lila because she was the daughter of the clan member, the one who was exiled from the pack, her former love affair, and who joined another pack on the other side of town. No, she wasn’t Mrs Kim's child, Mrs Kim just simply preferred her over you. 
Your voice broke the boys out from their dazes.
"I loved you Kim Hongjoong and I still do. Gosh, I still care so much about you even though I shouldn’t and I still want to make it work because I know, I know you aren't a horrible person, at least I thought you weren’t. But now I'm wondering if I really know you at all."
And that's all it took for Hongjoong's facade to break. He thought you wouldn’t find out. He knew what he was doing was wrong but his infatuation got the best of him. Truly, it started off as any ordinary friendship. Lila was kind and nice and that was that. But there were times when she would subtly flirt with him. At first, he paid no heed and rejected her affections. But after a while, when work and meetings became a bit overbearing and his mother would annoy him with the same old tell-tale of you not being good enough for him despite his reprimands that you meant everything to him, he allowed some reciprocation now and again but without any physical attachment. He thought that wouldn’t define it as him cheating…
But it did and he knew it. So he would rope in the other boys to go to lunches or dinners. They were friendly with Lila too so it wouldn’t come off as too odd, in contrast to if it was just the two of them. Hongjoong was aware that the boys did not really care for Lila like they did for you, and it would take a bit of coaxing to get them to join. Heck, even he didn’t care for her like that but it was such a spur of the moment, he couldn’t help it. He had a feeling some of the boys were questioning him before you disappeared but after your disappearance, they had all hit a wall and it was never revealed.
“I hate you.” You seethed.
Those three words broke Hongjoong from his daze. You, his best friend, first love, his first in many things, hated him and it was all his fault. He wronged you and continued to do so because he was trying to run away from the fact that his actions were damning and inexcusable. In his mind, still communicating with Lila would mean he hadn’t really done anything wrong. It was a twisted and poor attempt of trying to absolve himself from taking accountability. He could feel Mingi and Seonghwa’s fiery gazes and he was too terrified to look up to see the others.
You got up and stormed out of the café. The others just stared blankly in shock and despair from what they just heard. Hongjoong didn’t deny it and it felt like a ton of bricks hitting them all at once.
As you rushed out, Chan, Jisung, Minho and Jeongin passed by. They came to check on you but when you brushed past without acknowledging them and Chan saw your mates through the window, he immediately asked Minho to go after you. Jisung turned all around to figure out what just happened, but when he saw your mates on the other side of the window, he was not pleased. Chan felt Jisung's shift in aura. It was much darker than Jisung’s usually fun and joyful temperament and character. While Jisung may not be very good at fighting, he was very good at magic and spells, and at using strategy and wit over bod. And when someone hurts a person close to him, well, it doesn't usually end very well. 
“Since when does Jisung float?” Jeongin asked.
Jisung began levitating with a menacing glare piercing through the window. Good things the streets were clear for the night.
“Oh dear,” Chan muttered, “This isn’t good.”
Jisung left the two behind, stormed into the café and scowled at the eight men. 
"So,” he retorted with one hand in the air and a dark and purple cloud engulfing the room, “Which one of you is Hongjoong now, hm?"
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gretavanbrie · 7 months
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Landslide (J.T.K.)
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Summary: You’ve loved him for as long as you can remember, does he feel the same?
Pairings: Jake Kiszka x F!Reader
Warnings: no smut for this part just pure ANGST ;), established friendship, swearing, unrequited love, light portrayal of anger, jake & y/n are a little dramatic but aren’t we all?? mentions of childhood, alcohol consumption… if I missed anything lmk, I’ll fix it no issue!!
A/N: I’m actually really excited for this one!! This is based on the winning answer of this poll I did, if you guys are looking for a bit more context on what this is about. I may have hurt my own feelings a couple times amidst writing this, I had my Jake lane friend read it and she was not too happy with me so hopefully this will strike a nerve for you guys as well!! If not that’s cool too! My writing is pretty sporadic so I’m gonna try and put out as much content as I can if you guys end up liking this story. I’m a waitress so my hours are long and unpredictable I do apologize in advance lol. I’m debating on if I should leave this as is, or make two long parts, or even start a mini series…not too sure yet but lmk what you think!!! Also this is vaguely proof read. If there are any mistakes, bare with me.
Part 2 | Part 3
Here you were, standing in front of the mirror, clammy hands nervously smoothing down the fabric of the dress you adorned. You made it a point to pull out all of the stops today, you’d washed and beautifully dried your hair. You gave one last look at your makeup before running your hands through your hair and heading to grab your bag. You let out a shaky breath picking up your phone.
The boys were back from tour and some mutual friends were having a little gathering as a welcome back. Any other time you wouldn’t have been so uneasy but the conversation you had with Josh had been replaying in your head the entire time they’ve been gone.
“Are you ever going to tell him?” You immediately recognize that voice.
Everyone was outside as the small farewell party for the commence of the tour had somehow migrated towards the backyard of Josh’s lovely home. You clear your throat in an attempt to rid the uneasiness in your voice.
“Excuse me?” You turn setting down the bottle of wine you were going to pour for yourself. He stood at the entryway of the kitchen as you feigned a confused expression to which he saw right through.
“Y/n..we may not hang out as much as you and my brother do but I still know you just as well. If not more, it seems” you just stared at him for a moment trying to find a good way out of this before quickly turning around and finished pouring yourself a glass. With your back still turned you speak up knowing there’s no use in hiding it anymore, if there was one person you could trust with this information it would be him.
“It’s just not a conversation to be had, he’s my best friend nothing more. It’s just a silly crush it’ll go away” you waved your hand to seemingly brush it off as you turned to face him. Not the whole truth, but not necessarily a lie? God you didn’t even believe yourself, how could you expect him to. You brought the glass to your lips letting the smooth red ease your nerves.
“A silly crush that’s lasted since senior year?” The minute those words left his mouth your eyes widened in shock. Quickly swallowing to refrain from spitting your drink all over his nice white shirt.
“What do you mean by that?” you stare inquisitively not knowing he was privy to just how deep this ‘silly crush’ had run.
“Oh c’mon don’t play coy. Like I said, I know you. We were friends first..lest you forget.” You giggled recalling the vague memory of 2nd grade recess, he stepped further into the room before continuing on.
“You keep too much to yourself, you’ve gotta stop sacrificing your own needs for the sake of what you think the other person wants. Disregard me as his brother for the time being, right now I’m coming to you as a friend. I’m not here to pressure you into telling him anything, that is your own decision to make. I just want you to ask yourself if this is what you really want. I mean come on your twenty-seven now y/n. You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve refused to see anyone since summer going into senior year?’
“That’s not true” you cut him off, defending yourself.
“I wasn’t completely celibate I was seeing that one guy Liam for some time… a-and Henry my sophomore year of college. I’m just not looking for anything.” Truth was, you were at one point. You convinced yourself getting under someone was the only way to get over another. Until you realized neither of them were Jake and that’s why you could never see them as a part of the long haul.
“And did you ever make it official with them? Or better yet, did they last any longer than 8 months?’ He challenged. You looked down at your feet defeated knowing there’s no use in denying any more. You know he knows. There was a beat of silence before you spoke up once more.
“I’d rather him be my friend than nothing at all, Josh.” you said quietly looking up at him as he embraced you in a hug running his hands through your hair.
You hear him sigh before he quietly speaks into your hair.
“I know.”
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You shut your eyes and shook your head as if to rid the memory. You had wracked your brain enough about it. Josh was right and you knew it, it’s been nearly 10 years but you hadn’t always had feelings for Jake. For a while actually you would nearly gag at the mere thought. Albeit there wasn’t much room for romance during the pre-pubescent “cootie” stage of your life.
Your parents and the Kiszka’s became rather close throughout the years. You and the Kiszka clan wreaked borderline havoc growing up. With all the trouble you got into it was only a matter of time your parents would cross paths. Once they realized the five of you were inseparable they decided there was no use in staying strangers. Danny and his family soon came into the picture and you considered yourselves a bond to never be broken from that point on.
Although Jake had deemed you guy’s best friends summer going into 5th grade year, you were closest to Ronnie in high school. You were girls together. During the time of first periods and finding out boys can be attractive you migrated towards each other and found solace together within the testosterone-tainted group you had formed. You’d always struggled making friends, you didn’t normally speak unless spoken to. You weren’t necessarily shy, you just always felt like you didn’t really fit in with all the rest.
Once you crossed paths with Josh 2nd grade, he left you no choice but to be his friend. He was overly inviting and basically dragged you to join him on whatever crazy idea him and his twin had gotten into next. You chose to not complain given he was actually nice to you and took time in making sure to include you.
You had remained school friends for the years following, hangouts limited to recess and lunchtime until around the summer before 5th grade when you moved a few houses down from their own. You saw them playing outside from your bedroom window one day and begged your mom to run down there and greet your friends.
You and your ponytail came flying out of the house screaming “Josh! Jake! It’s me!!! From Ms. Crowley’s Class!!! I live by you now!!!”
“Y/n!! Is it really you!! We can play at home now!!” Josh exclaimed, his twins' smile growing ten fold.
“You have to meet my brother and sister, we can all play together now!” Jake said, calling out for Ronnie and Sam. You were quickly introduced to the two and although they were a couple years younger, you were kids, and found joy in whatever silly games you had come up with together nonetheless.
As you sat up against the tree cooling off from the intense game of freeze tag you all had just played, you saw Jake walk up and sit beside you.
“I can’t believe you moved close to my house, loser. Today was fun.” the boy said, ruffling your hair.
‘Hey! Quit! I’m not a loser.” you laughed pushing his arm away.
“Yea-huhh, that’s why you couldn’t catch me during tag.” he mocked, you squint your eyes at him playfully before pushing him away from you.
“That’s why you have cooties!” You retaliated feeling defensive now.
“See! Sore loooserrr” Jake sing-songed.
‘You’re being a meanie now Jakey, it’s just a game” you pouted looking to your feet. You probably were just being sensitive but you hadn’t known better. His expression softened realizing his words might’ve stricken a nerve.
“Oh come on, you know I’m kidding, you’re my new best friend. Especially now that we live so close” he said, lips tugging into a shy smile as he softly elbowed at your side. You whipped your head up to look at him
“You think I’m your best friend? You promise?” You said as hopeful eyes met his own. No one had ever made it a point to deem you as such. A friend is one thing, but a best friend was something far more special in your mind.
“Pinky promise.” he assured, hooking your smallest of fingers with his own.
————————————————————————————
The sentiment was sweet and you were thankful you had friends like them growing up, it made life a little easier knowing you had a constant. Easier until teenage hormones came into the picture and Jake was no longer your boy-ish ‘best friend’ and had started growing handsomely into his features. His face became more chiseled, his chest a bit more filled out, voice dropping a couple octaves lower and not to mention he grew taller. It all happened too fast for your awkward teenage self to process. One day he was regular old Jake and the next he was…hot.
So, you did what you thought was best. Denied any and all attraction and gaslighted yourself into thinking it would go away. It was Jacob for fucks sake, your life-long friend who you considered a brother to you. You and Ronnie had gotten suspiciously closer that year, you brushed it off as ‘needed girl time’ but as years passed you realized you were just trying to distract yourself from Jake in hopes that if you saw him less, the attraction would eventually metastasize.
Boy were you wrong because Jake was adamant on including you in every hangout as he began to gain popularity. You had convinced yourself things would drift off throughout high school, thinking the boys would deem themselves ‘too cool’ to hang with you now and the silly pinky promise he made would be brushed off as immature to him. But it wasn’t, he instead kept his promise. His friends soon becoming your own, girlfriends never lasting long because ‘you and Ronnie are more important to me than any other girl’ he says. Finding yourself at their house more often than you had expected for this new chapter of your life and before you knew it, you had grown closer than ever, and your growing crush more suppressed than ever.
You were shaken out of your thoughts as your phone began buzzing. An incoming call from none other than Veronica herself. You quickly picked it up, bringing the phone to your ear.
“Girl where are you?! You promised you’d be here by the time I got here” you heard her whine on the other end. “Everyone is already mingling, the boys are late yet again and I have no one!” You laughed into the line knowing she was just exaggerating.
“Oh come on Ron, it can’t be that bad you know Mike a-and Dave’s girlfriend.” You tried reasoning, knowing you’d be just as anxious if your friends hadn’t showed up just yet.
“I’m sure they’re already there, talk to them for a little bit okay? I’m sorry, I’m leaving now I just got caught up finding what to wear” you continued, not necessarily a lie although you didn’t want her to know the real reason you were stalling was because today could possibly change the entire trajectory of your life. Dramatic to say the least, but true.
“It’s okay y/n, I was giving you shit. I’ll be fine… wait a minute. Did you say you were looking for something to wear?? You’ve never cared about that stuff, who are you trying to look good forrrrrr?” she teased.
“‘Oh hush Ronnie, it's just been a while since I’ve gone out and felt hot. Just needed a boost of confidence today is all, no secret fella or anything” you giggled.
“Yet…” she laughed.
“Yea yea whatever, let me go so I can head over” you said grabbing your keys and slipping on your shoes.
“Okay okay, byeeee love you!” She said before quickly hanging up.
“Love you too” you said to no one in particular, smiling to yourself at your dear friend's abruptness.
There was no reason for you to be so nervous, it’s just the boys and Ronnie. It was Jake that had you so uneasy. You had replayed yours and Josh’s conversation enough times to knock some sense into yourself. You weren’t going to lay it on him full force but tonight was your chance to let your guard down and not shy away from him. Maybe even flirt, as best you could anyway, if things were smooth sailing. He’s been single for some time this was your chance to maybe plant a couple seeds. You wanted to see if there was even the slight off-chance he may just like you back and you’d be able to look back at how foolish keeping it from him was.
It was easier said than done as you started second guessing your entire look. You felt as though everyone would think you were trying too hard but that wasn’t the case, you’d gone out in more extravagant looks than the white linen sundress you settled on. It was flowy and stunning, casual but beautiful enough to make you feel at your best. Your hair cascaded beautifully down your back from your blowout, you put on your expensive perfume. You felt great, the only significant difference was that you wore a little extra makeup and you took the time to do your nails. You knew it was purely the anxiety talking. Plus, no one even knows how you feel about him other than Josh.
In attempts to calm yourself, your hand reaches for your phone as you stop at a light. Opening your Spotify you hit shuffle on your playlist. You sighed and smiled as the familiar guitar from Cannock Chase by Labi Siffre started playing. You and Jake loved this song, singing it on too many drunken nights to count. It truly was a beautiful song. You decided to just enjoy yourself and let the evening take its course rather than stressing out about it.
————————————————————————————
You pull into the long driveway of your friend Spencer’s house seeing all the cars parked out front. You find a good spot and walk up to the door seeing a few others talking by the front steps, you recognize his fiancé and smile politely walking towards her.
“My god, y/n is that you? You look absolutely stunning.” She smiled as she wrapped her arms around you before pulling away and linking arms, guiding you towards the entrance of her and Spencer’s shared home.
“Mmm and you always smell amazing, have you been inside yet? We missed you like crazy, Ronnie’s been inside waiting. I think the boys are here already though-“
“Thank you Claire, I appreciate it. I’ll be sure to find them” you cut her off smiling gently as you gave her hand one last squeeze before stepping inside. Claire is a lovely woman but has a bad habit of rambling, you find it endearing but others seem to tire of her rather quickly.
Upon crossing the threshold into their home you’re immediately greeted by the short brunette.
“Finally! The boys are here, come on, we've been wondering where you were.” You nervously laughed as Ronnie grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the backyard.
You weave through the small bunch of people gathered in the living room and kitchen before you walk through to the sliding door, stepping onto the patio. Josh spots you and immediately heads over to give you the warmest of hugs.
“I knew it was you, I’d recognize that perfume anywhere. Glad you could make it little one” you smiled in his embrace at his terms of endearment, your cheeks warmed at the sentiment.
“Thank you Joshy, I’m so happy to finally see you. It’s been far too long.” you smiled up at him before you were quickly swept away.
You startled as you felt strong arms wrap around your waist from behind lifting you up and twirling you. You laughed recognizing the familiar cologne, you see his chestnut brown locks as he sets you down.
“And who might this lovely lady be?” Jake jokes, stepping back to get a good look at you.
“What an extravagant greeting, I see you’ve been gone long enough to forget about a girl like me” you joked back, hand coming up to rest on our chest as you feigned a look of hurt. Your favorite bit with him now taking it’s course.
“Ahhh, nonsense. A girl like you? Unforgettable'' he assured in his familiar cockney accent flashing you that infamous smirk you’ve grown to love. You looked down bashfully as you blushed yet again. You’ve almost grown sick of how quickly he can turn you into mush, you know he means nothing by it. You can’t help but wish maybe he did.
“Oh come on, you’re just saying that.” You laughed as you walked over to pour yourself some wine. Opting for a white this time given your attire. God forbid your nerves get the better of you and you spill it all over yourself.
You can’t help but notice you and Jake had accidentally coordinated outfits. He bore a cream colored blazer, akin to his cream colored pants. The muted brown button up he had on underneath was unsurprisingly left open with a couple of his pendants decorating his chest. He looked handsome, to say the least.
“Hmm you don’t sound so excited to see your lifelong friend, I’ve been gone for months and this is the treatment I receive?” He exaggerates, giggles escaping between words not able to take himself seriously.
“I thought we were besties y/n” he laughs, feigning a hurt expression knowing that would make you crack.
You can’t help but let a giggle escape your lips, the joke now running dry.
“Alright, alright. I guessss I missed you '' you say, wrapping both your arms around his waist. He gives the quickest peck to the top of your head.
“It’s good to see you sunshine, been too long” he gives you one last squeeze, you smiled at the old nickname he called you as you pulled away.
“Did you forget about us?!” You hear Danny exclaim. You whipped your head towards the back door sliding closed as the self-proclaimed “better half” of the band stepped outside.
“How could I? With the million random voice notes I’m sent a day…not a chance” You tease walking up to hug Sam.
“Glad I could aid, you look fantastic y/n. Definitely better than when we left” Sam teased tapping his chin as if in deep thought.
“Hey! Not cool man.” you jokingly retort as Danny comes up to give you a side hug.
“Yeah your hair’s longer or something or..you put on blush? Fuck, I tried. I don’t know what girls do but you look great” Danny says pulling back to examine you, you blushed at all the sweet gestures.
“She’s always been a looker!” Josh blurts in his exaggerated Midwest accent, raising his brows giving you a cheeky smile. You giggle at his candor.
“Yeah? You’re like…glowing, I’m glad to see you so happy. Also I didn’t tell you when I saw you but I don’t know why you were nervous on what to wear, this dress looks beautiful on you” Ronnie says smoothing out the flyaways on the top of your head. You and Josh make eye contact, he flashes you a look knowing exactly why you were nervous before averting his eyes and taking a sip of his mixed drink.
“Thank you guys I really really appreciate it, but this is a celebration for you! We haven’t seen each other in quite some time, let's make the most of it yeah?” You say raising your glass.
Jake would never say it out loud because he loved teasing you, but you did look rather beautiful today. Sam was right, you looked different. Good different. Maybe it was the hair, or maybe it was having some stress-free months without them. Jake knew they could be quite the handful and maybe this time away from each other caused this new glow, so he thought.
Whatever it was, he admired the way your hair blew softly in the wind. How the midday sun had created the perfect glow on your skin. He especially loved how the sweetness of your perfume matched your sweet personality. He was extremely proud to have you in his life.
“Cheers to that!” Sam exclaims raising his seltzer can.
“Alright! First order of business now that we’re all here "Josh butts in, waving a finger in the air. We wait patiently for his supposed plans, all you hear is the faint music for a second before he speaks up again.
“Yeah.. I’ve got nothing. Although it is a rather beautiful day..” he continues looking around at the beautiful midday sunlight. The six of us break into laughter at his wit.
“Doesn’t Spencer have a pool table? I say we play a couple rounds and catch up?" Sam offers looking around for approval.
‘I’m in, everybody down?” Jake speaks up, moving to stand beside you. Hums of approval circulate as we all migrate inside towards the billiards table. Before you fully enter Spencer’s spare room you feel a hand on your lower back. Turning, you're met with Jake's familiar caramel eyes.
“Hey.. whenever you’ve got time, you mind if I get a word alone with you?” He asks. You should feel worried given the question but he seemed…excited? You couldn’t precisely read the emotion clouding his irises.
‘Um, sure. I-is everything okay” you couldn’t help the anxiety that burned in your chest.
“More than. Just gotta share something special with you.” He says flashing you a warm smile, quickly easing your nerves.
“Okay then, I’d love that.” You smile before you two make your way inside the room seeing a couple of others have also decided they wanted a go at pool. You spot Ronnie sitting next to Danny on the loveseat and plop down beside her. Taking a long sip from your wine.
“Thirsty?” She laughs, boy she has no idea.
“Yea just needed some refreshment in my life, you know?” you wink at her before setting your glass on the table beside you. She giggles before continuing her conversation with Danny. You watch as the boys argue over who gets solids and who gets stripes.
“You ever gonna learn how to play pool y/n?” Jake teases knowing you’ve never been the best at it. You decide to entertain it.
“Only if I come across a good enough teacher.” You quip smiling up at him.
“Come on then, I think I know a guy” he smirks, reaching his hand out to help you up. You gently take his into your own, pulling yourself onto your feet. Josh takes your spot on the couch as Jake walks you both towards the table and hands you the stick.
You smile at Sam on the other side of the table. You immediately try and get into position going solely based on what you’ve seen. You hear a chuckle behind you as Jake presses himself against your back and adjusts your aim so it’s pointing towards the white ball. Your breath hitches in your throat at the proximity. He clears his throat before abruptly stepping back and shoving his hands in his pockets. Weird.
“Your position was correct, but you were pointing at the black one..you definitely don’t wanna shoot at that just yet” he laughs. “The white one does your dirty work, use it to bounce a striped ball into the closest hole. You and Sam will take turns shooting at your respective balls unless-“ you can’t help but snort, you quickly cover your mouth realizing you’ve interrupted him.
“Hey, get your mind out of the gutter” you just shrug as he smiles. He continues on demonstrating and explaining the rules until you feel confident enough to play a match by yourself. You were grateful Jake has always been so patient with you.
‘You got this y/n!” You hear Ronnie cheer, flashing you her bright smile. You blow her a kiss as Sam initiates the game. Your turn comes and you throw your hair over your shoulders and lean into position. Jake quickly averts his eyes to be respectful although Josh wasn’t shy with it at all.
“Damn mama, lookin good.” he playfully winks, raising his glass to you.
“Oh hush” you laugh before making your first shot that unfortunately didn’t go in but after a couple tries you got the hang of it and you and Sam were down to a close match. You hear Danny and Josh narrating the match like some football game as it comes down to the last few balls on the table until eventually only the 8-ball remains.
This was it. You were one hit away from winning, if you missed this Sam would win and you wouldn’t let that boastful man win any time soon. You may have calmed down over the years but you were still just as competitive as your younger self. You adjust the stick between your fingers, closing one eye to aim just right.
Point. Shoot.
The familiar thud of the ball falling in sounds. You swiftly turn to the long-haired man standing behind you.
“I did it Jake, I did it!!” You exclaim getting lost in the short high of your win. Letting your excitement get the best of you, you tackle him in a hug wrapping your arm around his neck.
“Can’t believe it took you so long to give in and actually play” he says, arms still wrapped around you, pulling back and staring at you. The realization settling in that you may be way too close for comfort. You swore you saw his eyes flicker down to your lips, you brushed it off as wishful thinking. You allow your eyes to run across his face a couple times. Seeing how the tour has treated him. His stubble subtly grew atop his lip, focusing on how soft they looked. His hands tighten around your waist as his breathing picks up. You realize you’ve lingered for too long as silence washes over the room.
You loosen your grip on him and step away from his embrace. You look around seeing everyone had dispersed talking with others. Suddenly feeling very awkward, you clear your throat adjusting the fabric of your dress before combing your fingers in your hair in an attempt to recollect yourself seeing as you now feel incredibly flushed. You clear your throat before speaking up.
“I think I’m gonna step out for a sec” you smile meekly, grabbing your glass.
“N-no yeah, by all means” he gestures towards the door adjusting the lapel of his coat that you had so desperately clung onto moments before.
————————————————————————————
You rush out smiling politely at everyone you pass on your way to the back deck. The sun has started to set, the beautiful golden hour shining brighter than ever across the yard. You step outside feeling the breeze brush past your skin, quietly thankful there was no one out here. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you sit on the porch swing.
You stare off trying to process whatever the fuck that was. God, he just made your heart flutter without any thought. The way he leaned up against you. The way his eyes seemingly locked onto your lips for a split second. It was all too much, were you being delusional? Either way you needed a breather before you made any mistakes. He was your friend, he would never deem you as anything more. He’s seen all your ugly awkward phases, there’s no way he’d see you in any sort of romantic light especially with the amount of beautiful women he meets, he could have anyone.
“Can we talk?” You heard his voice as the sliding door shut. You turn and meet Jake’s eyes as he steps closer in your direction.
“Of course! Sorry, I didn’t mean to just run off. I think the riesling might’ve gotten to me a bit” you force a laugh.
“Come sit” you continue as you pat the spot next to you on the swing. He adjusts his coat before taking a seat and running his hands through his hair.
“Ahh don’t worry about it, I just figured I wanna tell you sooner than later. This is special to me and I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while” his tight-lipped smile showing as he toys with his bracelets before looking up and turning to face you.
He grabs both your hands in his and your heart beat quickly accelerates.
“You’re important to me, y/n. And I think it’s time I share this with you, I can’t hide it any longer. I've been avoiding it because I couldn’t find the right words to say…” he says as his eyes lock in on your own, his thumb gently rubbing over your fingers.
What the fuck is happening? You think to yourself.
“What is it, Jake? You can tell me anything you know..” you say hopeful eyes gazing up at him.
If this was going in the direction you’d hoped, all your dreams would come true. You quickly brushed it off not wanting to get your hopes up.
“I know, sunshine.” He chuckles softly.
“Um, I wanna start by saying I value how close we are which is why I need to make this known..”
Oh my god, is he…
“I’ve been deciding on wether or not I want to pursue this and I don’t think the answer could’ve been clearer, its been in front of me this whole time for fucks sake” he gives a breathy laugh as he scoots closer, eyes boring into your own. His eyebrows furrow for a moment like he’s unsure if he should continue but it's quickly replaced by a smile.
This is it.. is this his way of telling you he feels it too?
“Fuck it I’m just gonna say it..”
Please say what I think you're gonna say..
“Yeah?” You prod, the hope in your tone making you internally cringe.
“..I started seeing someone from our crew…i really like her y/n” he smiled looking at his shoes.
Oh.
The minute those words left his mouth your world seemingly went mute. Your ears rung like you had just been dunked under water. Your smile faded as your face became agonizingly hot and your throat tightened. How could you be so foolish? You should’ve known better. Of course he wasn’t about to confess his undying love for you as you would to him, you let your hopeless romanticism take over and now you’ve hurt your own feelings. Your dress suddenly feeling too tight on your body. You hair was touching all the wrong places. There probably was no need for the internalized dramatics but you wanted to crawl out of your own skin right now.
“Earth to y/n? Aren’t you gonna say anything” he laughs, scanning your face for any sort of emotion. You’d learned how to keep a good poker face dealing with his plethora of girlfriends. You faked a bright smile as tears threatened to spill over.
“Y-yeah!” You clear your throat realizing your voice has broken.
“Is everything okay?” He asks cutting you off before you could continue on. You still kept the insufferably wide fake smile on your face.
“Everything’s great! I'm just so happy for you Jakey, she must be a very special girl and I'm glad you’ve found someone who can put a smile like that on your face” you said, taking your hands from his grasp and rubbing his arm. You made sure to bring out your old nickname for him to convince him you were being sincere.
Jake was listening intently but knew you were lying. He’s known you for years, if he had know any better he’d say you looked heartbroken but decided not to press on it.
‘There’s no way she’s upset, she sees me as just a friend.’ Jake thinks to himself.
“Y-yea i just wanted to tell you today ‘cause she’ll be here any minute now and i’d love for you and Ronnie to finally meet her” he says, now seemingly unsure of himself.
“Wow! Y-yeah.. I mean I’d love to!” You say nervously running your fingers through your hair. God, how were you gonna get through meeting her so soon after the love of your life, who didn’t know he was the love of your life, had just single-handedly shattered your heart.
“Great, i'm so happy you’re my best friend sunshine” he says standing up opening his arms signaling he wants a hug. You rise and give him a quick embrace.
“Yea… me too.” You say as you try and fight off the tears once his arms wrap around you.
You excuse yourself to grab another drink. You rush inside but of course you just had run into Josh on your way to find the strongest bottle of alcohol this house could provide.
“Woah slow down little lady— hey… you okay?” he says, noticing your glossy eyes.
“Peachy. Now, if you’ll excuse me for just one second” you say trying to squeeze past.
“Ah-ah-ah, not until you tell me what’s got you in such a hurry.” He says grabbing your wrist.
“I just need a second alone, please josh..” your voice trails off into whisper, you were trying your best to stay composed but the more he kept poking and prodding at this fresh wound the more afraid you were of completely imploding.
“Oh, okay..” he complies, releasing his grip as he watches you snatch the entire bottle of wine and make your way to the guest bathroom. You were gonna need some liquid courage to withstand meeting whoever this chick is. You didn’t mean to be so sour but you felt foolish.
————————————————————————————
You sat down on the closed toilet seat after locking the bathroom door and thanked whomever that this wine bottle was a twist cap. You took a few sips before processing everything.
10 years.
10 years of convincing yourself that this would go away, but it somehow only grew stronger.
10 years of being irrevocably in love with one of your closest friends.
You were stupid enough to think he would feel the same way when he’s legitimately touring the world and has any girl he chooses at his feet.
Why couldn’t it be me?
I should’ve spoken up sooner. It’s all too late. Would he have even liked me back?
You let your head drop as tears clouded your vision, you succumbed to just letting them fall freely now that you were in private.
You wept for your inner teenage self knowing all she wanted got squashed right before your eye. Life can turn on a dime, you shouldn’t have wasted so much time hoping one day he just might make a move. I mean josh was right, you pathetically remained single because you only had eyes for his brother… for the most part. You’ve mingled but none of them could ever truly get your mind off of him. And for what? He’s just a guy. Albeit, a guy who is incredibly kind to you, knows all your in’s and out’s. How you like your coffee, all your favorite songs. He knew that you had to sleep with one extra blanket in bed because the only way you can fall asleep is if you're wrapped up in it. He knew that you would only ever accept flowers if at least one of the petals has wilted because lest we forget, we too are all but a little damaged. He’d grown to know all your weird habits as if it was second nature to him. He was what every girl desired.
You'd devoted yourself to him, built your life around him almost. Your earliest memories are plagued with him and his family and now everything has come crashing down faster than you can handle. You had a feeling deep down that you needed to get over him years ago so who are you to sit here and feel sorry for yourself. You knew better than to think he could ever love you back. You knew blind faith would come back to bite you in the ass.
It was stupid to wait so long with all these bottled up feelings towards him, you feel like you’ve wasted so much of your time helplessly hoping in silence and now who were you meant to seek advice from. You can’t tell your best friend he’s just broken your heart because you’ve been madly in love with him since you were seventeen. You can’t tell Ronnie because, although you’re incredibly grateful for it, she would come to your immediate defense and the last thing you wanted was a big fallout at their welcome home party. You’ve never been in more internal conflict than now.
You allowed yourself to shed a couple more tears before touching up your makeup and chugging down some more of the cheap Riesling. They would come looking for you any second now.
You collected yourself taking one last glance in the mirror before exuding a shaky breath as your hand reached to turn the knob. Stepping outside your met with Josh leaned up against the wall. Was he waiting for you to get out?
“There you are..” he whispered, swiftly grasping your arm and dragging you right back into the bathroom.
“J-josh what the fuck? What are you doi-“ you were cut off by him shushing you and locking the door.
“Listen, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think he would actually make it official with her. I thought she was some fling of his. If I had known I would’ve warned you.”
“So you know about our conversation?” You softly ask, trying to tame the lump growing in your throat.
“Yea, she’s here and Jake said you ran off after he told you he wanted to introduce you to her”
“Oh my god, I probably embarrassed myself. I wasn’t thinking Josh, I was just afraid I’d lose it in front of him” You say bringing your hands up to rub your temples. Josh reaches to grab your wrists, holding your arms in front of you.
“Hey, hey.. stop stressing yourself out. Everything happens for a reason, okay? You didn’t embarrass yourself, no one suspects a thing. I just wanted to make sure you were alright, it's pretty big news for you” he says, thumb rubbing gently on your forearms. The waterworks were conjuring up again, a small tear slipped as you met his eyes.
“I waited too long Josh…” you whispered.
“You were right. I shouldn’t have done this to myself. I-I mean, am I crazy for wishing someone could love me the way I love them?” You questioned rhetorically, your teary eyes staring into Josh’s pity-filled ones. You hated how he was staring at you. You didn’t need pity, you knew the mess you got yourself into.
"Not crazy at all, sunshine.” Hearing Jake's nickname for you coming out of Josh’s mouth felt wrong. Especially right now.
“Come on. let's take a deep breath and greet the guest, shall we?” He offers. You inhale a sharp breath before nodding your head in compliance, it was gonna happen one way or another, might as well man up for now and wallow in the privacy of your own home.
————————————————————————————
You both make your way into the living room seeing everyone gathered around the couch. A few people seemed to have gone home, there were a lot less people than when you showed up. Sam, Dan, and Ronnie sat on one couch.
Your eyes peered over to Jake in the kitchen talking to a beautiful blonde. She was wearing black silk blouse and some mom jeans. It was casual but elegant, you envied how effortlessly pretty she was.
“Hey.. stop getting in your head.” Josh whispered in your ear. Claire and Spencer waved for you to come join everyone. You took your seat as Ronnie got up from her spot next to Sam and came over to sit next to you.
“Where were you? You like..disappeared” she giggled. You smiled at her as best you could.
“The wine wasn’t sitting well, I needed a breather” you laugh hoping she believed you.
The only reason you never told any of your friends about your feelings for Jake was because at first you were convinced it would go away, so why embarrass yourself by telling someone something only for it to not be true in a few weeks and potentially jeopardize an entire friendship. Then as the years went on of you gaslighting yourself into thinking it would go away, all of a sudden 10 years had gone by.
“Ugh I feel you, Sam made me the nastiest marg earlier. I thought I was gonna yak” she says clutching her stomach. You laugh along with her, thankful she didn’t pry any further.
You were broken from your conversation as Jake walked in the room, his hand locked in hers as he guided her in.
“Alright everyone, this is Laura. My beautiful girlfriend.” He says leaning in to kiss her cheek. Jake seemed like he’s had one too many, his words slightly slurring but you don’t question any further. She politely smiled and greeted everyone. Jake notices you, his eyes twinkle before shining you a bright smile and gesturing for her to come meet you.
“Y/n, Laura. Laura, y/n.. this lovely lady has been one my best friends since elementary school” he introduces, slurring his words a bit gesturing towards you with an open palm. You smile wide and rise to give her a quick hug, Josh watching you intently. Your hospitality is admirable.
“Oh my gosh! You’re y/n! I've heard so much about you, I love your dress” she compliments.
Fuck. She’s actually really nice, it sounds terrible to say but you were secretly hoping she was bitch so you wouldn’t feel as bad for being so upset. Your moral compass however, refuses to allow you to feel negatively towards anyone undeserving.
“Thank you, you're so kind. It’s a pleasure to meet you” you smile bright as your cheeks flush from the sincerity of the compliment. She excuses herself to the bathroom, as Jake gestures for the two of you to take a seat yet again. The constant sitting and standing was starting to wear you out.
“Soooo what’d you think?” He says
“Short interaction, but she seems like a great girl Jakey. As long as you're happy I’m happy.” You give a tight-lipped smile, toying with a loose string on your dress.
“That’s it? That’s all you're gonna say?” he asks, stumbling over his words. There’s a certain tone he brought on that you didn’t like.
“W-well I don’t know what you want me to say… a-are you drunk right now?” You say, now adopting a confused expression.
“You could at least act a little more enthused for me. I mean do you even care at all? I was excited for the two of you to meet” he says, scooting back in his spot. He seemed offended, where was all this coming from?
“I-I’m sorry? I don’t know why you’re getting so upset with me. What do you want me to do Jake?” You say lowering your tone so the others around you do catch wind of whatever disagreement this seemed to be.
“You know what…just forget it, you could at least act like you care.” He spat, harshly grabbing his drink and abruptly leaving from his spot beside you. You sat there in shock.
What the fuck.
Your face suddenly felt hot, your throat tightened aggressively. You needed to get out of this house. You did care, too much. That’s why you felt your entire body go numb as tears clouded your vision. Why was he being so mean? Today has been the worst day ever. You swiftly get up from the couch and collect your things. You think you’ll make it with a successful Irish goodbye but of course with your luck, Josh catches you just before you slip out the front door.
‘Hey, where are you going” he asks.
“I can’t josh, I need to leave. I’m so sorry I just- I don’t know what came over him or how much he drank in the amount of time between our conversation and now but suddenly I’m the bad guy?? I don’t even know what I did wrong, apparently I don’t care enough? When you and I both know that’s far from the truth. I just wanna go home josh…please. I think I really fucked it this time and I need to process everything a little bit, okay? I really don’t mean to ruin your welcome home party, truly. I’m so glad to see you guys and maybe you and I could grab lunch this weekend to make up for me leaving so soon and bringing this drama.” You ramble, furiously wiping the tears streaming down your face. Josh doesn’t say anything, he just frowns and pulls you into a much needed hug.
“Alright mama, don’t worry about it.. you haven’t ruined anything. He probably had too much to drink. As far as I’m concerned I’m the only one who knows about this little fallout. Text me when you’re home, okay? Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” He questions.
“I’m okay, I was only kinda tipsy and that whole thing really sobered me up.” You let out a pathetic laugh at how humorous this all was. He rubs your arm before allowing you to make your way out.
You felt guilty for leaving so early, you didn’t mean to make it about you and you would’ve stuck it out but given Jake's newfound attitude towards you, you didn’t feel very welcomed anymore. Maybe you could’ve been more enthused but this was also heavy news for you. You start feeling regretful as you realized you had been a bit insensitive. You would have shown more joy for your best friend but how were you meant to give any more than that?? I mean she left for the bathroom in the middle of the greeting for fucks sake.
You sighed feeling at a loss. Granted, your feelings weren’t his responsibility but how exactly was he expecting you to react? You weren’t necessarily jumping with joy at the idea. But then again, he had no idea about your feelings. In his eyes, his best friend wasn’t matching his energy on something he deemed important. You start wracking your brain on everything you could’ve done to avoid this, essentially kicking yourself while your already down.
You make it to your car, hoping to just go home, have a night of reflection in a warm bath. As you sit down your phone vibrates in your hand.
Message from: Sam Wam Bam🕺🏻
-some friend you are..
Sam?? What the fuck? Why is he saying that?
Message from: Jake ❤️
-don’t even bother reaching out anymore.
wow.
He must’ve said something to Sam. Now sam probably thinks you were being a shit friend and ditched him and his brother at their own welcome back party after sharing the news with everyone.
You dropped your head to rest on your steering wheel as you realized you seemed inconsiderate to the people who didn’t know about your repressed feelings for the man. You felt like you ruined everything. You knew better than to get your hopes up, why did you think today would be any different and he would spontaneously have feelings for you? Foolish.
You let out a sob at their messages knowing this whole situation has been misunderstood. Because of it, everything was crumbling down around you.
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So…thoughts? How we feelin’?
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joeys-babe · 6 months
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Joey B Imagines: Don’t Give up on Me
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Summary: When being the girlfriend of an NFL heartthrob starts to feel suffocating, and you feel like running, Joe tries to convince you to stay with him.
Warnings: Angst, Fluff
Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader
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*no specific date for this fic!*
You couldn't take it anymore. It was just that simple.
Getting together with Joe back in September of 2022 felt like a fever dream. He gave you everything you could want or need in a boyfriend and you seriously loved him.
At one point you might've even said he was the one.
Joe himself hadn't done anything to change that idea, it was the fans and the attention that came with him.
After dating for a year, Joe finally proposed the idea of going public. You guys weren't necessarily hiding your relationship since you went to games and such, but it hadn't been openly proclaimed.
You were excited and giddy, sitting on the couch next to Joe as you both curated Instagram posts of pictures of you two. After tagging one another and hitting the post button, you and Joe turned your phones off and spent the evening just with each other.
Joe was ecstatic that his relationship with you was out in the open, everyone finally knew he was taken and he was taken by the girl he thought he was going to marry.
Later that night when Joe was fast asleep next to you in bed, you turned your phone back on and went through the comments.
“Not cute…”
“He could totally do better…”
“Sad that he's choosing to settle.”
“She has to be fire in bed or smt 💀.”
“She doesn't even have a body.”
“Obviously he went for personality.”
“He def cheats on her every day.”
“Gold Digger!”
“Using him for status Fs.”
“He could have a model but chose that?”
It seemed like the comments had turned into an endless stream of hate, all against you.
The words made you start to think things that you never would have thought before tonight. You felt secure in your relationship with Joe, but now? Now it felt like at any moment he was able to walk out on you and find someone better.
Sitting in bed staring at your phone as a waterfall-like flow of tears streaming down your face, it suddenly felt like you couldn't breathe.
You jumped out of bed and ran out of the room. Hearing Joe yelling behind you, you kept running. You ran till you were down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out of the back door.
Everything was a blur from how hard you were crying but you could barely make out the porch swing and fell into it.
Sobbing into your hands, you had never felt so small, useless, ugly, and so much more.
“y/n? Are you okay? What happened?” - Joe
Flinching when you felt a hand on the top of your head, you pulled away from your own hands to look up at Joe.
He stood there looking scared for what you were going to say, fearing the worst.
“The fans, Joe… they hate me.” - you
Joe almost felt his own heart shatter when he heard those words leave your lips. You were the woman he was in love with and this was all because of the people who call themselves his fans?
“Baby… don't pay attention to what they say. Any person who says negative things about you is no fan of mine. Look at me.” - Joe
Looking up at Joe, he cupped your jaw with his hand and rubbed over your cheek with his thumb.
“Don't read those comments and if you do, don't listen to what they say. They don't know you, they don’t know me, and they don't know us. I love you with every fiber of my being, please don't feel wary because of something someone else said...” - Joe
At that moment a little bit of security came back, but you still felt like total shit that was unworthy of how good of a man Joe was.
Joe had made a statement during a press conference the following day, addressing the hate and how much he detested it and resented anyone who spoke such words to be a fan of his.
He had promised you that things would change in a week, but a week later they hadn't. In fact, it got worse.
That's why you made the hardest decision of your life and decided to part ways from him.
It was the best for you and your well-being, as much as you loved Joe. You pondered and pondered this decision but knew it was the right one. There didn't seem to be a life that you could picture without Joe in it, but for now, you needed to be away.
Joe was at practice when you started packing your things up. You planned to be gone by the time he was home because you knew saying goodbye to him face-to-face would just make things harder.
That's why you froze in place when you heard the garage door open.
How was he home an hour before practice was supposed to even end?
You were finishing the goodbye letter when Joe walked into the kitchen through the door from the garage.
“Hey baby, the practice was so good that Zac cut it short.” - Joe
It broke your heart when you looked up to see his smiling face, knowing it was probably the last time you would see it.
“Hey…” - you moved your suitcases from out behind the kitchen counter
Joe’s smile dropped and he looked at you confused. His heart rate was getting increasingly fast and he was internally freaking out.
“What's that for?” - Joe
You couldn't choke out an answer and Joe asked another question.
“Going on a surprise trip?” - Joe nervously laughed
“No uhm… I'm going home.” - you
“Home? What do you mean? You are home.” - Joe
“I’m moving back in with my friend in Columbus. I can't take it anymore Joe. The backlash is too much… and I hate myself because of what they say.” - you
He stared blankly as he felt his stomach drop. This couldn't be happening.
“You're leav- leaving m-me?” - Joe
“I’m so sorry Joe. It wasn't you at all, you showed me what it was like to truly be loved. I just can't find myself staying in a relationship where I get constantly hated on just because I like a boy. Don't take it personally.” - you
“y/n… please don't leave. I love you. I love you more than anyone else that has ever been in my life. You mean more to me than anything in this world… I- I can't go on without you.” - Joe
By this point, you guys were both crying your eyes out.
“You have to learn how to Joe.” - you cried
“I don't want to learn! I want you!” - Joe
“Maybe there's a life where we work out… but it's not this one.” - you
Joe walked towards you, he thought you were going to reject him but you opened your arms. He cried into your neck and held you so tight, like if he let go you were going to disappear. Which in a way, was true.
“Don’t go. Please don't go. I can't live without you. I’m so sorry that being with me hurt you so much, but as much as I try to I can't control it.” - Joe
He was hiccuping and so close to hyperventilating that it scared you. You knew the breakup would hurt but you didn't think it would affect him this much.
“Breath, Joe. You're gonna hyperventilate.” - you
You held him and rubbed his back until his breathing slowed down, but his crying hadn't. Something about what he said resonated with you. He couldn't control what they said, as much as he tried to prevent it. It wasn't his fault. You knew that, but did you know it? Was leaving him really the best option?
Joe pulled away from my neck and looked at me with red puffy eyes.
“y/n… please don't give up on me.” - Joe
His eyes looked pleading. He was begging you.
“I’ll do anything. Tell me something and I’ll do it… please. Tell me something.” - Joe
“You don’t have to do anything.” - you
“Wh-what?” - Joe
“I change my mind. Leaving you isn't the best option. I can't run away from my problems, I have to face them.” - you
“And I'll face them with you. I'll always be right by your side y/n. You're it for me.” - Joe
“You’re it for me.” - you
He hugged me tight again before pulling away and taking hold of my suitcases.
“Fuck I don't think I've ever been so scared in my life. I thought I was going to pass out.” - Joe
“Sorry.” - you
“No, it's okay. But can you make it clear that you're staying because you want to, not just for my sake?” - Joe
“I’m staying because I want to. With you is where I want to be. I'm sorry I almost threw everything away over some stupid hate comments.” - you
“Baby they aren't stupid. Your feelings are important and I’m proud of you for putting your well-being first.” - Joe
You didn't know what to say so you just nodded.
Joe led you upstairs and put your suitcases back in the bedroom.
“Let's just take a warm bath and relax, sound okay?” - Joe
“Mhm.” - you
5 minutes later you both were submerged in warm water, you were sitting between Joe’s legs with your back to his chest as you laid your head on his shoulder.
Joe spread soft kisses on your shoulder blades, collarbones, and neck. This moment felt more intimate than it normally would since it felt like Joe was proving to you he was worth it.
“You are the strongest, loyal, beautiful, smart, humble, courageous, amazing woman. I'm so lucky to be your boyfriend.” - Joe
You hummed and nuzzled yourself into his neck.
“I love you, Joe.” - you
Joe was like a screwdriver. Unscrewing and uninstalling every negative word that had been drilled into your mind within the past week, one at a time. You were so lucky to have him in your tool belt.
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Authors note: first angsty imagine and I loved writing it! Shout out to the anons coming in clutch with the fun requests!!!
Request for this fic;
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354 notes · View notes
lovedbybella · 10 months
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infatuation (pt. 1)
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miguel o’hara x female!reader
warnings: profanity, angst, just mean miguel
summary: being miguel’s assistant, you always thought the two of you had a good thing going. and everything was great… until it wasn’t.
word count: 4.2k
authors note: this is like my first ever fic i’ve written and intended to publish so please be nice! buttt feedback is much appreciated :) ily pls enjoy
PART 2 HERE
You had known from the start your boss wasn’t a particularly nice one. He conducted the interview himself, and you were sure he hated you based on the look of displeasure he had planted on his face the entire time. When Lyla, his holographic AI Assistant called you the following day, announcing you were hired, you were pleasantly surprised.
The first few days of work were… interesting. You were still getting used to his mundane personality, and he was getting used to your over-the-top sunshine one. You were just a happy person, was that a crime?
After moving into the Spider-HQ, where you were given an extremely nice apartment to live in while you worked for Mr. O’hara, you took it upon yourself to figure out what his deal was. During meal times, you were fortunate enough to come across Peter B Parker. He introduced himself to you as one of your boss’s friends and briefly explained the whole situation of his daughter.
Following that day, you understood why he acted the way he did and didn’t necessarily take anything he said to you to heart. You’d make lame jokes, ramble about yourself for hours and attempt to make him spill something about himself to you. It was the system the two of you had developed, and it worked, with you keeping his office from being the saddest place on earth, and him keeping the entirety of the multiverse from falling apart.
After nearly 3 years of working for him, you had grown to be fond of him. Sure, he was an asshole 99% of the time, but there were moments when it was just the two of you working late nights and he would randomly make a joke, ask you a question about yourself, or even admit something about his past. Just things that showed you there was in fact a human with a heart underneath the rough exterior he kept up. You hated to admit it, considering you were his assistant and he was your boss, but you were beginning to develop feelings for him.
The problem though, was that lately, that version of him had completely disappeared. He was more irritable, demanding, and got upset at you over the smallest of things. You couldn’t take it, you could handle his bad moods before, but this was a whole other level. You contemplated questioning him about whatever was going on with him, but you didn’t feel like being on the receiving end of his moodiness.
Today, you were determined though.
“Good Morning, Mr. O’Hara” you chirped happily, walking into the office 15 minutes early, a stack of papers in hand like you always did. He grunts a quiet ‘Morning’ in return, not even looking in your direction. “I’ve finished all the reports and organized missions and meetings for the next two weeks, Is there anything specific you want me to do?” you ask, trying to be helpful.
“No” He replies, pointing to his desk for you to drop the papers off. You do, making your way to his desk, before opening your mouth again. “How was your weekend?” you attempt.
This time, he simply gives you a dissatisfied look, indicating that you needed to shut up. You sigh quietly, “Lovely, I assume.” You turn, your heels echoing loudly as you make your way to your desk. A month ago, your boss had relocated your space from a few feet away from him, to all the way across the room. You admitted that the action hurt a bit since you dared to assume he was beginning to tolerate you. It was like he wanted to be as far away from you as possible, and it worked, considering your interactions were cut nearly by half.
You settled yourself at your desk, prepared to spend the rest of the day busying yourself with meaningless tasks. You guess today was going to be like the rest of them.
A few days later, he had gotten worse. Your “Good mornings’ were ignored, and he acted like your presence alone bothered him. If you weren’t his assistant and therefore required to see him every day, you’d be avoiding him like the plague. You really couldn’t figure out if you had done something wrong, he acted normal with everybody else, the problem seemed to be, well… you.
You were getting a coffee on your way to the office, and being the considerate person you were, decided to get one for your boss too. You knew he probably didn’t get any sleep last night, and coffee usually elicited a small ‘thank you’ from him, which, at this moment, couldn’t hurt to hear. You were hoping the gesture would help him ease up on you a little, but realistically, you knew it wouldn’t.
You walked into the office, coffees in hand. “Good Morning, Mr. O’Hara,” you said, announcing your presence. You could swear you heard him groan at the sight of you. Off to a great start, you tell yourself. Ignoring his antics, you make your way to his desk. “I was getting coffee and thought I’d grab you a cup, here you go.” You say, avoiding eye contact.
As you move to place his cup down, you briefly glance up, only to be met with his piercing gaze on you. It catches you off guard, and you stumble, causing a little bit of coffee to overflow as you set the cup on his desk. “Oops' ' You laugh softly, attempting to lighten the atmosphere, “I’ll get something to cle-” you start before you’re interrupted by his rough voice.
“Are you serious” he cuts you off, “I wouldn’t have hired you if I knew you were going to be this horrible at your job. I never asked you to get me a cup of coffee, and you did it anyway, and now you can’t even hand it to me without spilling it like a competent person?” he practically growls.
Your eyes widen a bit as you try to mask the hurt on your face. You move to stand up straight again, keeping your composure. “I’m sorry” you start, “I was just tryi-” but you’re interrupted by Lyla before you can finish.
“An anomaly’s been spotted on Earth 216, nothing major, but they need backup” she announces, her holographic eyes shifting to you. “Hey Pumpkin, how are you?” she asks, you give her a tight-lipped smile in return.
“Thank you, Lyla,” Miguel answers, before shutting her off. He grunts before moving to leave, not even sparing you a second glance. You quickly clean up the mess you made, attempting to hold back tears. His words hurt more than you’d like to admit, considering you thought you always went above and beyond for him.
You weren’t particularly mad, just upset, and wiping the few tears that escaped despite your battles, you decide if Miguel simply wanted you to do your job, that’s all you’d do.
A few days pass, and there’s absolutely no mention of the incident. You stop saying Good Morning to him, asking about his weekend, or even making bad jokes to try and keep a light-hearted atmosphere. In fact, you don’t speak to him unless he speaks to you first.
You honestly hadn’t even looked at him, overwhelmed with the insecurity that he’s hated you from the start. You sigh quietly, staring at your computer with nothing to do. The fact that tomorrow was your birthday was the only thing getting you through the day. Your friends had organized a fun day by a lake house, filled with drinking, partying, and fun. It was the way you spent your birthday as a child, and celebrating it like that again would bring back pleasant memories. You had asked for the day off months in advance, and you were more than excited that you were finally getting a much-needed break from your boss.
You doubt he knew, nor cared. For the past 2 birthdays of his, you always made it a point to wish him a happy birthday, buying him a cupcake and a small gift (that he probably threw away). He hated it, but you wanted him to know there was at least somebody who remembered and cared enough to get him a present.
The clock hits 7 and you silently cheer, your indication you’re free to go. You began packing your things, feeling Miguel’s gaze on you for the first time all day. It had been quiet and without your attempts to fill the silence, the office was, well, dead. You tread your way to the door, your heels filling the silence before you’re interrupted by Miguel calling your name. You turn, a little terrified.
“Yes, Mr. O’Hara?”
“You’re leaving?” he asks
“It’s 7 PM” you answer, a little confused.
“You usually stay till 8.”
You pause, thinking of the best way to answer, “Well, my work day ends at 7” you state. It was true, sometimes you’d even stay till ten to help him with whatever tasks, tests, or missions he had on his own personal agenda. But lately, you had determined it wasn’t worth it with the way he was treating you.
He hummed, before turning away from you, “I need you to come in tomorrow.”
Was he serious? You keep your voice level, trying to stay professional despite the anger brewing within you. “I can’t, I requested the day off,” you say flatly.
“Well, there’s a lot of work that needs to be done” he starts, “and if you want to keep your job, you’ll come in”
Unbelievable. Now he was threatening to fire you? You were the epitome of the perfect employee, you did everything he asked and more! And after the little coffee incident, you didn’t say or do anything that could be deemed “unnecessary” just like he asked. You couldn’t fathom it, he couldn’t even let you have this day to yourself.
“Sir-” you start, but he cuts you off.
“There’ll be no argument, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, his voice booming with authority. You’re speechless. You turn around, walking out of the office. You wait till you’re a reasonable distance away before you let the tears start to fall. Right now, you didn’t hate anyone more than you hated him. And to think that a few weeks ago you were beginning to harbor feelings for him. You felt so stupid.
The next morning, you walk in 5 minutes late. A singular coffee in hand. You hated being late, but you were held back 20 minutes calling back all your relatives and friends who were wishing you a good day. Your heart ached, knowing you’d much rather spend the day with people that adored you instead of him. You head straight to your desk, not even glancing in his direction. You feel the burn of his eyes on your back.
“You’re late” he announces, as you begin to take your laptop and the rest of your work materials out. You looked nicer today, with prettier earrings, a cute dress, and a touch more makeup. Your friends had opted for dinner after work instead after hearing about your last-minute need to cancel. The difference in your appearance didn’t go unnoticed by Miguel.
“I had an emergency” you state, not even bothering to glance up from your computer. In all honesty, you had nothing to do. You had completed all your work for today, yesterday, since you thought you were going to be out.
“Hm,” he responds, glancing at your desk. “Were they out of coffee?” he asks, referencing the fact that you hadn’t gotten any for him.
“No” you answer, finally looking up at him, “Would you like me to get some for you?”
“I’m okay” he answers, his eyes lingering on you like he was attempting to figure you out.
You roll your eyes when he finally turns around, before moving to speak again. “I have nothing on my schedule for today, was there anything specific you needed me to come in to do today?’” you ask, a touch of annoyance behind your voice.
“I need you to organize that,” he says, pointing to rows and rows and rows of disorganized stacks of paper that was not there yesterday. “Alphabetically, of course.”
You want to cry at the sight. You had no idea where any of those papers came from, considering that nearly everything you guys did was electronic. It was like he was doing it on purpose, seeing what your limits were before you finally broke.
You sigh to yourself, accepting the fact that your birthday is officially ruined. You clear your throat before speaking, “This will probably take me all day” you start, “Is there anything else for today?” you ask, sadness evident in your voice. If Miguel hears it, he doesn’t comment on it.
“Just that for now” he turns around, continuing to work on whatever new device he was developing now. You take the opportunity to pull out your phone, notifying your friends that you wouldn’t be seeing them today.
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You finish up around 10 PM, with more papercuts than you can count. The day was, of course, horrible, with Miguel overanalyzing every move you made. You couldn’t believe you had actually spent your birthday performing such a mundane task, 3 years ago, before you knew Miguel, you never would have stood for this.
You were trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. He definitely didn’t know it was your birthday so this was all just a huge coincidence… right? You grab your things ready to leave. You feel Miguel’s eyes on you. You had somehow made it through the day without complaining, not uttering a single word unless you were asking him a question about the assignment.
“Good Night Mr. O’Hara,” you say tiredly as you walk out the door. And maybe you’re just sleep deprived and sad, but you swear you hear a quiet ‘Night’ back.
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The following morning, you walk in right on time. You look up at Miguel’s usual spot, only to find him staring directly at you. You avert your eyes awkwardly, not saying anything. You were probably going to be angry at him for the next month.
“Good Morning,” he says, body turned towards you.
“Morning,” you say softly, too hurt to be petty and ignore him. You settle into your desk, unloading your materials without even thinking. It had become a habit at this point. You yawn quietly, the events of yesterday had led to a sleepless night. “What’s on the agenda?”
Miguel looks at you, before motioning for you to come next to him. You stand up, walking over to him. He points to his right at the stacks of paper you had tirelessly organized yesterday.
“I need you to organize that,” he says, eyes gauging your reaction.
You keep your face neutral, “I organized those yesterday” you say, “Quite well”
“Again. Organize them again. I’ve decided I want it to be organized by categories instead” he says casually, like his request wasn’t absolutely insane.
No.
He was kidding, right? You stare blankly at him for a few seconds, trying to determine whether or not he was joking. Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, a silent demand to get moving. You can’t help it, but you start to laugh.
“Is something funny?” he asks
“No” you state at first, trying to calm yourself down. Your laughter, however, quickly turns into anger. “Actually, yes. It’s hilarious that you think I’m going to sit here and re-organize what took me 14 hours yesterday to complete.
“You will actually, because I aske-” Miguel starts but you cut him off.
“No, I won’t. I’m not doing it” You throw your hands up, exasperated and pissed off.
“Excuse me?” he answers.
“This is ridiculous. I’ve been wanting to ask for months what exactly crawled up your ass, but out of respect for you, I didn’t. But I can’t take it anymore, you don’t get to treat people- you don’t get to treat me this way! I know you’ve been through shit but that is not an excuse Mr. O’Hara!” you pause, debating whether or not you should stop. The line, however, has already been crossed, so you continue.
“I have been the best assistant in the world for the past 3 years. Dealing with all your insane assignments, your mood, working over my hours every single day and what do I get in return? Total and complete disrespect! I try to be nice, and I try to be understanding, but my patience has worn thin and I will not stand for this. Getting you a coffee and accidentally spilling is not a reason for you to be an asshole! You made yesterday horrible for me, and that is a day I will never get back!” you cry out, all frustrations from the past few months spilling out.
“I don’t know what happened to you, but we used to work. We used to get along, and I’m not exactly sure what I did, but you didn’t use to hate me and treat me like total garbage.” You yell, angry.
Miguel stares at you, an unreadable expression marks his features. He’s not exactly speechless, but he is surprised. He watches silently as you march back over to your desk, packing up your stuff before heading towards the door.
When you’re almost out, you turn around, looking directly at him, “And for the record, I am not horrible at my job and I am capable of handing someone a cup of coffee competently. Find yourself a new assistant, I quit.” and with that, you storm out of the office.
-
Two weeks later and you had settled into a new routine. Living in the Spider-HQ wasn’t anything like regular Earth. People didn’t need to work to live, working just kept things in order and kept a sense of normalcy around the Society.
Your days were different. You finally had time to catch up with other Spider friends that you rarely got to see due to how busy you usually were. You could tend to your garden, catch up on books, and explore the HQ in the daytime. It was nice, it was peaceful.
Despite all that though, something was missing. You weren’t exactly happy about leaving. Yes, it was a major relief to not have to deal with Miguel every day, but it had become your new normal. You had loved your job, prior to everything of course, and you hated to admit it but, you missed it. You missed him, him and all his faults, his attitude, the part of him you rarely got to see.
It was around 7 at night. You were cleaning up your apartment, preparing for a long-awaited movie marathon with Peter. You place the pizza boxes and popcorn on your living room table, all ready mentally preparing yourself for the stomach ache you’d inevitably get.
You hear a knock on your door just as you finish putting away your cleaning supplies. It was a little earlier than you told Peter to come by, but you knew he liked to be punctual.
“It’s open!” You yell, turning on your TV to pull up the movie. The knock is on your door again, this time more persistent. You groan as you get up, hadn’t you and Peter gotten over the formalities of having to invite each other in?
You open the door, your mouth moving faster than your eyes before you could register what was in front of you, “Peter, you know you don’t have to-” you stop, mid-sentence, suddenly rendered speechless. The man in front of you was much too tall and much too tan to be Peter. Your mouth feels dry and you’re unsure of how to respond- or how to proceed.
“Mr. O’Hara.” is what you settle on.
You were embarrassed. Yes, everything you said was completely valid- and true! But, he was still your boss and after you had calmed down, you determined your little outburst was going to haunt you for the rest of your life. So yeah, you weren’t exactly ready to face him, especially considering the fact that you did not think Miguel was the type of person to show up at a doorstep, let alone yours.
He stares at you, his dark eyes moving all over you, like he was trying to assess you. You wait patiently, he had obviously shown up here for a reason, and you definitely weren’t going to say anything that would deter that.
“The other day” he starts, “You were dressed so nicely.” Out of all things you predicted he was going to say, that was not on the list. In all the years you worked together, Miguel had never given you a compliment. Sure, you caught his eyes lingering a little longer than needed sometimes, but he was a man, it didn’t mean anything.
You stay quiet, unsure of how to respond.
“Why were you dressed so nicely?” He moves, his body shifting so one of his arm’s leaning on the top of your doorframe, the rest of him looking down at you.
“That’s none of your business, Mr. O’Hara,” you say firmly.
“I think I ought-” he begins, but you interrupt him.
“Mr. O’Hara, I think it’s best if you-”
“Miguel, My name is Miguel. Not Mr. O’Hara” he says, desperate. You stay silent.
“Did you have a date?” he asks, his voice hoarse, like a certain answer would pain him to hear.
Your mind runs a mile a minute, his question completely throwing you off guard, and now you’re angry, “Is that why you decided to give me that stupid assignment? Because you thought I had a date?”
“You didn’t answer me”
“I don’t have to answer you, Miguel,” you start, saying his name venomously, “Not anymore, I quit, remember?”
He looks at you, eyes hurt and pleading.
“If you must know, it was my birthday. A day that you ruined when you forced me to come in and had me work till 10 PM.” you begin, calmly, not in the mood to be angry again when you were about to meet a friend. “And I know birthdays may not mean anything to you, but they mean a lot to me, and if you’re not here to apologize for the way you treated me, then leave.”
“I was glad you quit, you were driving me insane,” he says, his voice husky and low.
“Did you really come here to insult me further? Glad to see you were so happy to be rid of me” You move to shut the door but he stops you, easily.
“That’s not what I meant” he looks down at his feet, his face hopeless, like what he’s trying to say is impossible. He looks back up, looking directly into your eyes before speaking,
“I cannot get you out of my mind” he admits, “Every waking moment of the day, my mind is filled with you, it drives me crazy. And I can’t do anything about it, because you’re- we’re my assistant”
You’re stunned, unable to speak.
Miguel's eyes are dark as he looks at you. His brain short-circuits as he tries- tries to make you understand exactly how you make him feel. “I knew it was your birthday, and I had planned something, but the moment I saw you in that fucking dress, all sense went out the window. I couldn’t stand the idea that you were probably going to celebrate with some man, some man that probably doesn’t give two shits about you, some man that wasn’t me.”
You attempt to interrupt him, completely overwhelmed by his confession. You had absolutely no idea that was the way he felt about you. You could feel the intensity of his words as he practically pleaded them to you.
“Miguel, I- What?” you start, but he interrupts you, groaning.
“Don’t you fucking get it? I need you, desperately, and I can’t have you and I’m going fucking mad at that revelation. So of course, my only solution was to make you hate me, it’s what I do best, and when it worked, I realized I’d rather hate the world for only letting me have a part of you than not have any part of you at all.” his voice sounds so raw like it hurts to admit.
You look at him, his eyes earnest and waiting. Waiting for some type of signal from you that you understand what he’s saying, and that he’s not alone. But you’re stupid, and you can’t form the right words to explain you feel the exact same way, so you’re speechless, trying to make yourself say something, anything.
“Miguel-” you start, but you’re interrupted.
‘Hey! Did you guys make up? Heard you guys had a nasty work breakup” Peter interrupts, laughing as he looks between the two of you.
Miguel stares at you, exasperated. He gives you one last look before he turns and leaves, running his fingers through his hair as he rounds the corner, leaving your line of sight.
You stare in his direction, closing your mouth before your eyes shift to Peter. He stands there, awkwardly turning to you, clearly gauging that whatever conversation the two of you just had was not a normal one.
“Did I interrupt something?”
-
part 2 coming if people want one? i’ve never posted anything spicy but i’ll do it for the people <3
-
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noyoyoy · 4 months
Note
Bread with cheese!!!
You can do one of Ghost x Male Reader? , a story where Ghost returns home from a mission, very stressed. Well, he goes to the male reader and proceeds to fuck the reader too intensely until he is satisfied, relaxed and de-stressed.Ghost, let's say, can withstand many rounds and the reader only 1 or 2., that is, the reader was overstimulated to the maxGhost, let's say, can withstand many rounds and the reader was only 1 or 2, that is, the reader was overstimulated to the max.
((IF ANYONE KNOWS ME, I SWEAR THIS WAS PROPOSED BY MY DOG.😭😭😭😭😭
The Mask, The Man.
Simon “Ghost” Riley X Male reader
I cannot lie. This was supposed to be pure smut, then it turned into angst, and then fluff- I’m sorry if this wasn’t up to your standard or what exactly you wanted. I might have gotten lost in the heat of the moment.
TW: Smut. MDNI, 18+, EVERYTHING. IS. CONSENSUAL. Cursing, slight mentions of blood and murder, slight Somnophilia?? Idk m/n passes out.
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It wasn’t often that Simon let you see Ghost. In fact, if you did ever see Ghost, the world was most likely ending.
However, you have seen him one time before, when Simon came home from a very long 6 month mission, you’d admit you were shocked when you ran down the stairs only to see your husband facing and leaning on the front door, his boots will on, his mask still on, and his back heaving up and down from how heavy he was breathing. He didn’t bother to change, much less shower before he be-lined to his truck, and driving off to his home where he knew his husband would be waiting.
M/n didn’t necessarily hate seeing Ghost, in fact it was Ghost that hated seeing M/n. Well, it was Simon who hated Ghost seeing M/n. He wasn’t acquainted with his Military life, not his friends, that godforsaken mask, or the blood and dirt from his missions. Every other time he came home he washed himself to a T, making sure he was clean before he came home, but even then he and his husband took a long bath together, M/n scrubbing off the mental dirt and blood that Simon could never wash off himself.
And thus here we are. M/n’s head shoved into the pillow, tears streaming down his face and his breath uneven as Simon was thrusting into his body, his hand buried in his hair keeping his head down while his other hand was wrapped around his waist with a grip he knew would bruise. He didn’t care. As much as he loved Simon, he missed Ghost. One taste was all it took and M/n constantly wanting more, silently hoping Ghost would step through that door again. Simon didn’t like hurting his dear lover, so he was always soft, and gentle with him. Though while M/n loved it, he also loved being roughed around a bit.
“F-Fuck! Simonn!” M/n choked out, the tears not stopping, saliva dripping from his open mouth and wetting the pillow below him. “That’s not my fucking name.” His voice was deep, husky, yeah, that wasn’t Simon. This was ghost, this was ghost in all glory. His angry, agressive, sexy, blood thirsty glory. “GHOST!” He screamed as he came for the 4th time that night, his dick sensitive and yet still painfully hard. “Shit.” Ghost huffed out as he rolled his head back, closing his eyes. He felt the coil in his lower stomach snap, his cum filling him again. It starting to spill out forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock.
“Ghost! I- ! I can’t! Please please please~” It hurt. His hole was swollen, puffy, and red, his prostate no doubt abused to the fullest at this point. His body moved to have his hips pressed against the mattress, his face lifted by his hair as spit followed after and dropped down his chin, his dick now pushed fully against his belly and the thought sheets, gaining friction with every thrust Simon threw at him. But oh did I feel so good. His vision soon going dark to the feeling of Ghost gripping his hips and thrusting faster, letting his head fall down against the spit damp pillow.
Waking up, m/n noticed two things, one, every muscle in his body was aching, and his throat was sore, and two ghost now had his mask off as he laid his head on his chest. “Ah-” he gasped out and winced has he tried to sit up, eventually giving up and falling back down onto the broad chest below him. “I’m sorry..” he heard, now realizing Simon was back, and awake as well. “Hm? For what?” M/n muttered out closing his eyes still feeling sleepy after the very long night. “I was too rough. Your body is.. fucked because of me and my selfishness.” Simon felt horrible. He HATED hurting m/n. Especially during sex. “Mm.. it was great.” His husband lifted his head, then his body to crawl over his hips and straddle him. “Simon. It’s okay, trust me, I’m not made of glass you didn’t fuck up my body! I’ll be back to fine in like.. 4 days.” M/n said ignoring the burning feeling in his lower region.
“I hate it, I used you.. I felt you go limp and I still.. I couldn’t..” he couldn’t finish. He couldn’t bear to repeat what he did. Disgusted at the fact he kept going even after his lover fell unconscious. “Oh hush up. I told you many times already, I. Don’t. Mind. I find it hot when you use me!” M/n tried to fix his husband’s aching heart. “Now c’mon, we are nasty. It’s time to clean up and get some food in us!” M/n chirped as he sat up and pulled himself off of Simon and onto the floor, his knees almost buckling under him.
Simon watched his wince his way into the bathroom where he heard the water turn on. “SIMON!” He heard from the bathroom. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” He got up, walking into the bathroom and getting into the shower with his husband, cleaning all the dried fluids on (and in) M/n’s body.
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And I’m done. My first time writing smut but I feel like I’ve read enough of it to do at least decent.
Open for requests, and criticism.
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nanaminokanojo · 19 days
Text
ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 3
-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur
CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters
GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw
TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises
MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX
<<prev part 3 next>>
A/N: Contains prose and tweets between so yeah, open this to read, I guess.
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Sukuna stiffened from where he was standing when you winked his way. You were so gorgeous even when your eyes were slightly red at the rims and all banged up that he would have needed herculean effort to wrench his gaze from you. Under normal circumstance, that is. At the moment, his eyes simply kept straying to the doctor whose arms were akimbo as he regarded you with tired, worried eyes.
“My sister will kill me if she finds out the truth.”
Ah, Sukuna thought, nothing scarier than a protective uncle.
“She won’t,” you assured, standing up slowly. “I got this."
The man nodded and approached you, patting your head before leaving, but not without glaring daggers at Sukuna who bowed and stayed bent at a ninety-degree angle until your uncle was out of view. He immediately straightened up to face you only to repeat the gesture before you again.
“I sincerely apologize for injuring you like this. Please allow me to shoulder the bills for your treatment.” He was still sweating profusely, his shirt sticking to his musculature like saran wrap. The ordeal wasn’t done yet. You might have pacified your uncle, but it did not necessarily mean that he was off the hook. “I’m so, so sorry.”
His nervousness at your lack of response heightened with every second that he remained in that position of contrition. It was nerve-wracking when he wasn’t used to submitting to anyone’s demands or wishes, much less begging anyone for forgiveness. He couldn’t see your face so he wasn’t exactly sure how you were reacting to everything. But much to his surprise, he saw your shoe-clad feet as you stood before him.
“You don’t have to bow down like that in front of me,” you spoke, your voice coming out with a husky ring to it. “Your apology would have sufficed.”
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Sukuna stood up to look at you, stepping back when he saw you smiling brightly at him albeit your discomfort. For the first time, he noticed how your leg was already cleaned and bandaged while your broken elbow was wrapped in a cast, hanging on a sling over your shoulder. How you could stay so positive despite your pain was something he found awe-inspiring and he couldn’t help but feel the slight upward tug at corners of his mouth.
“Are you okay?” he blurted out, quick to take it back when he realized just how stupid his question was. “I’m sorry. That was…” He sighed. You seemed to have the ability to render him into a blithering cretin, and he had to admit even just to himself that it wasn’t only the guilt or the nerves resulting from almost killing you. You were just so pretty his brain-to-mouth filter has become nonexistent.
“I’m not, but thank you for asking,” you responded appreciatively, lifting your injured arm slightly for emphasis. “I’m Y/N, by the way. You’re Ryomen?”
“Ryomen Sukuna.”
“Sukuna. It’s nice to meet you.”
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Your eyes then strayed to the other person in the room. “Hi, Uraume.”
“Hey, Y/N. I hope you’re not in so much pain.”
Sukuna looked on with curiosity at the exchange. He didn’t know that his best friend even knew you after they had to show him your online profile instead of just telling him about you like a normal person. He shot Uraume a dirty look, realizing he had been played.
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“Sorry if my friend’s an idiot. It’s a birth defect.”
Sukuna was about to protest, but then he heard you giggle, suppressing it when you saw him looking at you in an attempt to be polite. Why you were doing that was weird. If anything, you ought to be raging mad. He sighed. Uraume was right. He did you considerable damage.
Again, he said, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
“It’s alright. You’re forgiven.”
“Really?” He arched a brow at you in question, not quite understanding where your good mood seemed to be coming from. If he was in your shoes, he would have thrown a fit and taken advantage of whoever caused him to hurt.
“Yes.”
Just like that? “Why?”
“It was an accident. You weren’t really meaning to run me over, were you?”
The thought horrified him. He may be a dick, but he wasn’t exactly lacking in morals. “God, no.”
“Then it’s settled.”
How you could be so nice about it was a big puzzle to him, but he would have that any other day than your family coming after him. He knew he was being dramatic earlier, but there was still the possibility. He thanked you and started to excuse himself to settle the bills, but you stopped him, holding onto his arm and shaking your head.
You flashed him an embarrassed smile, your cheeks adorned with a dusting of roses. “You don’t have to.”
“Their family co-owns the hospital,” Uraume supplied, shrugging as if in long-suffering.
“Oh.” Of course, he thought, finding it hard not to grimace at how narrowly he escaped the fate he was thinking about just earlier. Now, he seriously felt bad knowing you’re basically a princess – a very beautiful one with an equally beautiful heart – and yet a nobody like him did you wrong.
“I’ll tell you what,” you began, “I wouldn’t really want to impose upon you, but if you want to make it up to me, I’ll appreciate it if you drive me home today.”
“I’ll drive you home every day to school until you’re well enough. I’ll help you with whatever you need, just…please, let me,” he said without thinking.
Sukuna saw Uraume arching a brow at him, knowing exactly what was going on in their mind as they furtively shook their head. He was a womanizing bastard after all, but that wasn’t the intention he had with you at all. He would do anything and everything to stop feeling guilty over what he did to you, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to manage that without doing anything.
You eyed him thoughtfully, your head tilting to the side which he found endearing. But he immediately snapped out of it when you nodded your head and said, “That will be very convenient. I wouldn’t have to call my parents to send me a driver.”
Anything but your parents, he thought, mouth stretching into a tight smile as he nervously nodded. “Just call me whenever.”
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TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17
© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240517]
PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.
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jeonqkooks · 1 year
Note
yoongi + 40 (fluff) + 49 (smut) (ONCE AGAIN CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE AND HAPPY ALMOST BLOGIVERSARY LOVE 🫶)
personal space | myg (m.)
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pairing: yoongi x f!reader prompts: "are you blushing?" + "shut up and pin me down." rating: 18+ (minors dni) genre/warnings: fwb au, brother’s best friend au - jimin's the bro, a lil fluff, a lil angst, definitely smut; the only warning i could think of for the smut is fingering lol it's pretty mild, unedited bc that's how we do <3, smut right under the cut word count: 1.2k note: hi nary !! thank yuuuuuuu for the request heheheh i know i'm SO SO LATE to this one but better late than never right :D this yoongi has been on my mind since last august but i'm so glad to release him into the world. hope you like this lil piece <3
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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"Did you miss me?" Yoongi pushes your panties aside, his slender fingers stroking your bare core as a cocky grin graces his face. Your arousal practically drips down his fingers. "Oh, you did miss me."
When you decided to come to his welcome home party tonight, you hadn't counted on this happening, though part of you was secretly hoping for it. It’s not necessarily a bad idea to be in such close proximity with Min Yoongi again, just a dangerous one.
Old habits die hard, you suppose.
"Shut up," you groan when the pad of his middle finger circles your entrance, dipping into your heat but only allowing the digit to sink up to the first knuckle before he pulls out. The fucker, always such a tease. "Shut up and pin me down."
"When did you get so bossy?" he tuts, but he complies anyway. Yoongi carries you to the bed with your legs around his waist while his palms busy themselves with your ass, kneading your skin like it's the first time he's touching you. He doesn't throw you on the mattress roughly like you expect, but instead, he lays you down gently, like you're porcelain and he's got slippery hands. When he hovers above you, the guitar pick of his necklace dangles to rest on your bra-clad chest, and the coolness of the metal makes you shiver. It stings a bit, you have to admit.
"Since you left," you say, like it's all so casual. In a way, it is. That's how it used to be between the two of you - hiding another layer of honesty in the truths you exchange and knowing full well that the other person understands it. A secret language that only you and Yoongi speak, like hiding in plain sight. Although, that was the one part you were never particularly fond of - the hiding - but you knew it had to be this way. Jimin would've killed you both if he ever found out one of his best friends was railing his sister on the DL. "You subjected me to a lifetime of mediocre sex with mediocre men."
"It wasn't a lifetime," Yoongi disagrees, but the smirk on his face tells you that he's pleased with what you're insinuating. That he was the best. He was the only one who knew how to make you feel good. The man nudges his nose against yours, prying your thighs open as his hand settles on the warmth between your legs again. "It was three years."
"Which was a long time."
He kisses you then, and it makes your head spin from how soft it all feels. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like Jimin isn’t completely shit-faced in the next room, like kissing you is everything that he’s been thinking about for the past years, and now he finally has the chance to do it again.
After a moment, he breaks away to drag his mouth along your jawline to your ear, whispering things that the old Yoongi never would.
He plunges two digits inside you without any warning, but it doesn't take your breath away nearly as much as his words do. "I missed you," he says. "Missed you a lot. There were days, maybe even weeks, where I think I did nothing but miss you."
Your cheeks burn easily until they turn a shade that could compete with the rose bushes in your back garden. You grab fistfuls of Yoongi's t-shirt as his fingers fuck you slowly.
"Are you blushing?" he chuckles. "I'm knuckles deep inside of you and you're blushing?"
"Shut up," you repeat, because he didn't seem to listen the first time. "Don't say shit like that if you can't see it through."
"Who says I won't see it through?" he asks. His beautiful fingers that you've missed don't ease up for even a second, scissoring you open and forcing a whiny moan out of you, despite the sudden somberness of the moment. You clench around him when his thumb meets your clit, making you impossibly wetter.
"You never did."
"Neither did you, sweetheart."
"Because I'm a coward." You buck your hips to meet his hand as it thrusts into you, delicate fingertips brushing your g-spot on every stroke. "But you're not a coward, are you, Yoongi?"
It's strange how you're close to coming even though the conversation is making you sad, but that's Min Yoongi for you. He's got you wrapped around his finger - figuratively speaking, but of course, you suppose it takes on a literal meaning this very second - ever since day one.
It started out as just sex. It was supposed to be just sex.
He was supposed to just be one of Park Jimin's goofy friends.
You were supposed to just be Park Jimin's sister.
You were, until you became someone that Yoongi could love. Someone he did love.
And he still does, there's no doubt about that.
He stays quiet just long enough to make you come undone. His thumb rubs your clit expertly, just the way you like, as if you two never spent any time apart. You give him a broken moan, and he gives you a wave of bliss that washes over your body and swallows you entirely when he curls his fingers, fucking you with determination as you gush into his hand. Your legs start to close but Yoongi props them open, prolonging your high until you're shaking from the sensitivity.
"Yoongi..." you whimper, and only then does he pull his fingers out, soaked in your essence, only to shove them into his mouth. You watch as he hums in delight, eyes falling shut like he's trying to savor the taste. You say his name again, softer this time.
Yoongi looks at you then, propping his forearms on either side of your head to hold himself up. He rests his hips on yours, and you feel him even through his jeans, hard and pressed against your bare thigh.
"I was a coward," he admits. "But I'd like to think I'm not one anymore."
Then you both just stare at each other for what feels like hours but in reality, it's probably mere minutes. You want to believe him, you really do, but there are too many things that you don't know if you should risk. It takes a leap, but unfortunately, you're scared of heights.
You pull on his shirt, silently telling him you want it off. "We can talk about this tomorrow."
"I'm finally talking about it and you don't want to listen?" he chuckles but takes off the tee anyway, tugging it over his head and throwing it somewhere across the room.
"I do, just not right now. Now I only want you."
"You've got me."
"Not like that."
"Yes," he says. "Yes, like that."
You give Yoongi a look that makes him sigh. You just want to have him, without thinking of any of the things that make you feel like it's impossible to truly have him. Just one night, that's all you're asking for.
He touches your face, tracing your cheekbone, trailing down to caress your jawline. "I'll see it through," he tells you.
You wrap your arms around his neck, urging him closer until your lips brush. You give him a chaste kiss, letting your eyes flutter closed momentarily before you whisper, "Tomorrow."
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all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 10.06.23]
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velvet-games · 4 days
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he’s so normal :)
I actually drew this before a lot of the recent stuff I've been posting; it was just me trying to figure out a good redesign for vox. I might make a proper redesign explanation later, but here are some quick notes while I'm still playing with it:
vox trapzod and alastor trongle :)
^^ ok but unironically this was kind of a hard decision since I have mixed feelings about vox's body type
stuff I was considering:
1) vox is alastor's foil and has a similar body type to alastor at least in part because you're supposed to be comparing them (It's actually so cool cause I was watching TB Skyen's reaction to ep 2 and he immediately predicted that they would have beef lol)
2) tumblr sexyman bod <3
3) I LOVE @/bestosunglass' way of drawing him, and it made me realize that I kind of love the idea of vox being a little bigger than alastor? it's very big himbo puppy + lithe cat energy
4) not sure what my headcanons about vox's body are in terms of biological vs tech yet, but I think I want to lean toward tech (which is customizable)
I love the angst concept of vox having the freedom to change his body with relative ease, which makes him feel like he has to constantly update and update and update and update and update and it's never good enough because he could always change something and he'll never quite be good enough--
basically being a victim to his own progress-oriented mindset
and also treating himself like a product; if it's not working, if it's not the best, newest model, then it's broken and useless and disposable
tbh alastor's ability to find beauty and art in the old (not necessarily based on function, but on character and care) would be good for him
ooc or not, as someone with dysmorphia issues myself, I really want an "I like your body because it's yours" moment from alastor
I think all of that + toxic masculinity would probably mean vox would make himself comically buff (at least at first) lol
5) but I like drawing him kinda scrawny ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it's just weird because I kind of want to audience to pick up on the fact that he's not actually hypermasc but vox would totally (mostly successfully) broadcast that to the characters in the show
6) I think a trapezoid is a good shape for him! it contrasts well with alastor being a kind of sly and striking triangle shape. trapezoids are more interesting and dynamic than rectangles, but are still more stiff and business-like than triangles (p sure I am completely misunderstanding shape theory here but it makes sense to me lmao)
vox is such a mess of vibes? like he's a cult leader he's a televangelist he's a hypnotist he's a business shark he's a tech CEO he's a newscaster he's a TV he's a computer he's a literal shark he's a mastermind he's a pathetic fanboy
still not sure which of those is the most important/what should be obvious in his design
obsessed with the concept of TV knobs as buttons but it's kind of old fashioned
I headcanon him as having been a nerdy kid that got kicked in the shins for being obsessed with TV/tech lol
also hc him as being vaguely and very obliviously transfemme; the buffness can also be overcompensating for a lack of masculinity both physically and mentally
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jennifer-jeong · 8 days
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[Fluff + Slight Angst] [Wanderer x Reader] “A Name of Your Own”
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SUMMARY Giving him an actual name <3
CONTENT Fluff, little bit of angst, mentions of his past, CHARACTERS ARE 18+
AUTHOR NOTES I think it’s so funny that if you try to name him “Dottore” he says “you can’t be serious…” LMAOOO Basically this is what I named Wanderer and this is how I imagine he’d react to the situation hehe Another Wanderer fic for you pookie <3 @thepurestgirll
WORD COUNT: 737
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“My own name…?” the confused anemo user asks albeit rhetorically.
You’re in the sunlit akademiya library in the process of choosing a name for Mr Kabukimono/Kunikuzushi/Balladeer/Scaramouche/Wanderer/Hat Guy and he wonders why it feels so strange. He hasn’t really had a name that he necessarily cherished. All were titles given to him that have some alternative meaning or intention behind them. But this time, it’d be a name just for the sake of a name. A name to call him by, a name with a meaning about his soul, not about his status or appearance.
“克仁” (romanized: Katsuhito)
You say the name with a stern look and a gentle smile. He looks up at you, your words pulling him out of his thoughts.
It took you a little bit of research and time to put it together but you decided on this: a meaningful name in his native language.
“I can’t really read the language… What does it mean?” he asks, confused, as you show him the characters.
“克 (Katsu) meaning ‘to overcome,’ and 仁 (Hito) meaning ‘compassionate.’” You explain while writing the symbols on paper, teaching him how to spell his name and how to pronounce it.
“I just thought it fit you pretty nicely. You’ve been through a lot and you’ve come out alive and even after all that… you still somehow have kindness in you. I think that’s what compassion for yourself and others truly is.” You say gently as you look at the paper.
You’re looking at the name but he’s looking at you, his eyes softening at your words and his eyebrows raise ever so slightly. His face reads a mix of surprise and melancholic happiness. He’s surprised that you have such nice things to say about him. He thought that you, the traveler, and Paimon would end up just messing with him when picking a name. But he’s pleasantly surprised and starts to wonder if he really deserves something so nice.
You’d already discussed the name with Nahida and the traveling duo and they loved it. They were also happy to see how much thought you put in it.
“Are you okay?” You ask, looking at him, once again pulling him out of his thoughts. He didn’t realize he was just staring at you instead of paying attention to the paper.
He blinks a few times and stutters out a shy “y-yeah… I just wanted to say… thank you.”
Your eyes widen and then close as you smile at him, “aw you don’t need to thank me, just enjoy your new name!”
He looks down bashfully, trying to conceal his emotions and appreciation. His heart is beating fast, he doesn’t really understand it, especially considering he doesn’t really have an organic one. But he seems to feel emotion the same way you do. This used to piss him off. But right now, he’s kind of glad he can feel this way. He’s glad you make him feel this way.
You’re also feeling bubbly. You’re happy he likes it and it feels like it was a moment for you two to bond. You test the waters a little bit more and say “I was also thinking your nickname could be something like ‘Hito!’”
He blushes ever so slightly as he meets your eyes again. “That sounds…” he stops himself from saying “cute” and opts for “nice” instead.
He was usually pretty irritable and always wore an annoyed look, but because this was important and brought up a lot of emotion at the thought of his old names, he was pretty serious. He was vulnerable. But you didn’t hurt him. He would always remember that.
“Okay! Then it’s settled. Let’s go get some dinner, Hito.” You chime.
“Sounds good…” he replies, uncharacteristically quiet.
You don’t pry though, you know he’s only recently been introduced to the idea of living a life of his own, uncontrolled directly by someone. You figure that this talk about names also brought up unsavory memories.
But he was no longer a puppet to be used. He was just him, and he’d forever be grateful to the people who made that possible.
He watched you jog ahead of him, out of the library and into the sunset. The golden light illuminating your hair and outfit as it flowed in the breeze. You called out to him, telling him how the weather was lovely.
He smiled.
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Thank you for reading!
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|| MASTERLIST ♡ ||
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ashesbreadandbutter · 2 months
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Solomon x Fem! Parent! Reader || It's Okay, I'm Right Here
Word Count: 3,081
Rating: Sfw, Mature matters
Includes: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff
Thank you for commissioning me! @eternallyanxiousandstressed I hope everything is to your liking and again I hope that the things going on right now that may be painful heal and get better but I wish you nothing but love and luck momma!
-
It's that day and to say the least you were hurting.
You knew it was happening, knew the time was coming but that didn't mean you ever enjoyed it..
You carefully watched as Solomon played with him, a chest of toys that the white haired man had even gotten for himself sat wide open as your son ran back and forth just to show off his favorite toys and things. You can see the look on his face, the smile you son gives him as he grins up at Solomon with that smile you've always loved.
Your heart is literally aching, feeling as though it's being torn apart.
Solomon was always so good with him. Ever since you both introduced the two your son had seemed interested in the man even if he was a little shy at first. You remembered the way Solomon smiled warmly at the boy who slightly hid his face and then with that flair that he always seemed to have… Solomon kneeled down on one knee to the child and with a short little chant and a sway of his fingers glitter and colorful swirls seem to form from his fingers before poof! A toy sat in his palm, one that he didn't exactly know the boy would enjoy but really hoped so.
Though Solomon isn't necessarily one who cares for the way people looked at him this was completely different. This was you and your son and after being with you for as long as he has now it only made the most since that he wanted to get along with the boy.
It seemed to have worked out quite well. You knew from the moment that Solomon had looked into your eyes that he was a good one, loving and understanding and when your son happily took the toy after a moment just to make sure it was actually alright to take. There's a moment where he looks up at Solomon, bright eyes twinkling at the sight of the gift and Solomon nods with a hum.
“It's alright, you can definitely have this.” Solomon reassured the boy, something else you had noticed the white haired male was quite good with over the timespan of your relationship.
You remembered looking at Solomon after, lifting a brow as if asking how he knew the young boy would like such a gift only to feel your cheeks warm up just a bit when he seemed to smile back knowingly.
Back then Solomon had given a little carefree shrug, a light chuckle coming from him thanks to that adorable look on your face that he always loved to see.
“He's a kid. There's not much else they usually enjoy aside from toys and candy last time I checked.”
He says with that smartass voice of his that you always seemed to love hearing and you huffed out a little laugh.
You smile carefully, looking at the scene just a few feet before you with so much love and affection whilst leaning against the doorframe. You loved catching them in these moments, seeing that carefree smile on your baby's face while he spent such important moments with Solomon who was basically the man that happily stepped up to help you raise the boy. You had caught them a few times in some rather cute moments; catching Solomon feeding the boy, guiding and teaching and correcting the boy whenever it seemed needed …like an actual father was supposed to…
Oh course you never wanted to stop your son from seeing his actual father but every time you looked at you child… his smiling little face that seemed to shined brighter than every other star in the sky, you couldn't help the clenching you felt in your heart. It wasn't that you necessarily hated or felt anything angry over your last partner and you knew that realistically your son should be allowed to see his father no matter what you and the man had gone through but as you watched these moments you couldn't help but simply wish it had been Solomon to actually be the boy's father. Though, you did love seeing that the white haired man treated your son like one anyway even without you having to ask or say anything.
Your baby deserved a father and you and Solomon had talked about it so many times, mainly because you couldn't help but feel scared… and just like the caring and adoring man he was, Solomon carefully reached his hands out to wrap around you and hold you close. Telling you that it'd be okay because whether the boy was his or not… he'd happily help take care and raise him. And that's exactly what Solomon has done since the two of you… three of you met.
The air of peace and tranquility pauses.
There's a knock at the door…
One that you all seem to notice at the very same time.
You're the closest to it and as the two look over at you, you let out a soft sigh before turning and going to the door. Solomon frowns a little, he simply can't help it because while he knows you had to do this didn't mean he had to be happy about it… He looks at your son before smiling softly and the boy seems to return the little look before Solomon gets to his feet.
“Stay right there okay?” Solomon says to the boy who shyly now seems to nod.
He follows you, your child hanging back for now, peeking around at the scene as you take your hand and unlock the knob before twisting it and just as expected he stood there… your past husband, the man you nor Solomon wanted to see but as you try to resist frowning Solomon takes his place at your side, reaching over to rub your shoulder in a way that seems to actually convince you to open the door.
You pull it open and there he stood, looking at you first as a little smile almost dares to taint his lips before falling completely at the sight of Solomon and your son who crept forward until he could grip at Solomon’s pants leg as if the sight of the boy clinging to the man was like pouring salt into an already infected wound.
There's a moment of silence and you can feel the weight of the air around you getting heavier. You were sure he was simply displeased at the sight of you raising your child with another man but Solomon stares him down, as if he's daring the other man to do something about it.
You managed to speak first, greeting the man who seems to huff in return before crossing his arms over his chest.
“I've come to pick up my son.” He says and it sends a spark of blistering rage through you because after everything the two of you have been through you thought he knew by now that if you could your son would be exactly just that, your son. You don't like that tone he uses either, the one he seemed to pull out as if he was better than you and had something to hold over your head and Solomon can practically taste the way it makes you feel.
He doesn't get angry often he'll admit but something about this ex-husband of yours could really pull Solomon into doing so. Especially when he can see that look on your face, the saddened expression that he dreaded seeing on your precious face. It's not just that either, as his eyes turn from you down to your son he can only feel more annoyed, upset at the fact that this man of all people has come just to ruin all of your day.
“Our son.” Solomon suddenly hums and the tension in the air suddenly seems to grow a lot heavier as if the air around you all had turned poisonous.
“You've come to pick up our son.” He says again and there's a moment where both you and your child perk up just from hearing Solomon say such a thing. It's not like he didn't say it often, with permission many months ago Solomon had spent hours holding you, kissing you until you cried and clung to him and felt comfortable with him being this close in your family and home and now as you savor the feeling of his hand gently squeezing your shoulder, you've never been more grateful. It calms you even while your ex seems to sneer at the man who calmly grins, smug in his stance. He knows he shouldn't pick a fight, you've told him not to before but oh does Solomon love seeing that stupid, angry look that washes over your ex's face.
If it weren't for the fact that Solomon was a sorcerer, a lesson that your ex husband was still stubbornly learning he probably would have never spent any time dealing with this man to begin with. Even resisting simply slamming the door in his face right now was rather difficult for Solomon…
You pat Solomon and without argument, without further distraction, he looks over and down at you and his smug grin falls quickly as he sees the look in your eyes, that saddened expression… it manages to shut him up for a moment all the while calming him even before Solomon allowed his own irritation over your ex to bring out the worst in himself.
“Ah, anyway..” Solomon says softly as he looks into your eyes with his own before slowly looking back at your ex who seemed even more annoyed at the sight than the blatant disrespect he was receiving. “I'll allow it, at least until I figure out just what to do with you exactly.” He finishes and there's meanings hidden behind those words, a threat spoken like the millions of spells Solomon's spoken before. All of the sudden the room feels colder, so much so that your ex seems to shiver even though he's not even standing in the house… the only one to shiver, matter of fact, considering Solomon only had the intent to affect him personally. Something else he's been working on for a while now.
“And..what's that supposed to mean?” Your ex asks now, his tone softer than he'd like it to be and Solomon smiles innocently.
“Oh nothing, just that I'm trusting you to be responsible so I don't have to correct you too harshly later on.” he hums and then silence falls over all of you, a few seconds passing just to let the words cook and simmer and then you let out a little laugh as if to lighten the overwhelming mood looking over to your son who moves closer to you, now hugging you leg as you gently run your hand through his hair. There's a soft smile that forms on his lips as he slowly looks up to you.
“He's just kidding, surely you're happy to spend time with your father right baby?” You ask softly, petting that head that you loved so much and while you do so the two men seem to glare harshly at each other, fists slowly balling up on each of them. You son looks over to his father who seems to huff lightly through his nose and Solomon follows the action in a much similar way before nodding carefully. Of course the boy always wanted to see his father. He just secretly wished… he could do so without these moments, without having to leave. Why couldn't the four of you just be together?
Sometimes he still didn't fully understand it all.
“Right, I'm only kidding.” Solomon repeats, giving another smile now as he keeps his eyes on the man before him to show that he actually wasn't ‘just kidding’, that the only reason he didn't strike him where he stood was because Solomon knew just how these things made you feel.
Silence falls over the four of you before you sigh and you say goodbye to your son, smiling at him and taking the time to kneel down and give him the biggest of hugs you could ever offer before he slowly pulls away even though it hurts both of you so much. He had to be a strong boy though, the brave and smart boy that you always found him to be. He seems to take a few steps forward to his father. The man looks at the boy before sighing, reaching out to offer his hand and your son slowly takes it, stepping out the door now.
It's a bittersweet moment, one that leaves an oily taste in your mouth as you look at your child one more time, waving bye as they go to leave but not without your baby returning the action, quickly waving his little hand like his life might have depended on it.
“Bye mommy! I'll see you and dada later, I love you!” He says like how he'd do if you were dropping him off at school or something, moments that always managed to feel like slow motion once they actually happened. Your son's words ring in your ears as you and Solomon wave goodbye though not without you yelling out to your ex to call or text if anything ever managed to happen in your absence. Begrudgingly he seems to accept your words, sighing again and you and Solomon watch at the door as the father of your child helps the young boy in before giving a wave to the both of you before pulling open the drivers door and climbing in.
The sound of the doors closing, the sound of the engine starting and gears revving makes you hurt even more and just like that, they pull off carefully before driving off.
You don't even realize the wetness in your eyes until Solomon carefully reaches out to you. As he gently cups your cheek you look at him and as your eyes connect with his own all you can see if his care for you, his undying love for you that you worried one day might disappear even though Solomon continuously corrected you each time because he was going nowhere without you being by his side. The two of you have already gone through so much and continue to do so but Solomon was happy being there with you to go through it together. The look in his eyes are genuine, focused and bright as if you were the only thing that existed in his field of sight, as if nothing else for now mattered.
Before you can stop yourself you sniffle before quickly turning into him.
You wrap your arms around his torso before pressing your face into his chest, the tears falling just being able to be close to him in a moment like this and of course Solomon returns your gesture by slowly closing the door with one hand while the other moves around you to hold you back. You arm wraps around your shoulders, his hand carefully moving and petting your hair before he moves his other arm to wrap gently around your waist. He pulls you closer as you seem to let it out. It's not like you got like this everytime, not always but you did get sad one way or another and as much as it hurts, like tearing your heart into pieces, Solomon is here… holding you, caressing you while your tears seem to wet his shirt.
“I know you always hate these days but I promise you my love that it's okay…” he hums softly, his voice like a light in the darkness that leads you to a bit of clarity.
“He'll be fine, he'll be okay.. I can promise you that.” He breathes, taking the time to lower his head and press his nose into your hair, taking a deep breath and savoring your scent that he simply loved so much. “I gave him a talisman. If anything unexpected happens we'll know. I promise.. please don't stress yourself out, it's not good for your skin.” He says with a light chuckle and it does calm you down, his words and the way he's holding you as if he worried that letting go might just break you. Even with his teasing tone you know he's serious, that his words are genuine and even though your heart was aching you felt… so, so much better knowing that Solomon had even taken the time to give your son a seal of protection just in case somehow, someway, something managed to cause any malicious harm to your baby.
Which wouldn't because Solomon had promised to always help you keep him safe.
You can't help but cry harder, so grateful to have him here with you, holding you close while telling you that you were okay.. that your son was okay with him around. He's so caring, so loving, patient… gentle, always holding you as if you were the most prized jewel in his world.
“Thank… you..” you say with a shaky tone, clinging to him because you know he doesn't mind not one bit.
He moves his hands to slowly trail up you body, over you curves and dips leaving shivers running over your skin up until he reaches your cheeks and with so much care, he holds you. He kisses the top of your head, then you cheek, then back up to your forehead until he's left peppering to sweetest kisses against your skin and like a cat getting scratched behind your ears you seem to fall completely in his hold.
“There's no need to thank me my love and you know that, you know I adore you and that boy more than I've ever adored anything else. You know I'll always be here, yes?” Solomon says softly, his eyes gentle as his voice fills your ears and you hold his arms, nuzzling his chest.
“Yes..Yes of course I know that my dear, I-I just love you so much… I'm so grateful you're here..” you breathe, calmed down as you press against him like he's a life support and he holds you like he feared you pulling away.
“I’ll never let go of you…either one of you for I love you both just as much.” He hums as he continues to hold you, taking in your scent, kissing you…loving you like you always craved to be loved.
~
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tangylemonade · 4 months
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Agent!Choi San x afab reader
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• Just a little angst/fluff? I wrote. It’s meh and I was just watching bouncy and got inspired by SAN’s look. Kinda sort of but not really a ‘will they, won’t they’ moment. SAN’s a Secret agent or whatever in this.
COMMENT and REBLOG if you enjoyed!
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“How are you feeling?” You asked.
You had pulled the van over now that you felt you were far enough away. You couldn’t be too careful, not when they were still looking for him.
“I’ll live. You should see the other guys.” San replied with a chuckle before grimacing and holding his side.
You made sure your parking space was secure enough for the time being and climbed into the back of the van. After locating your first aid kit you sat down in front of him assessing the damage.
The Guild.
They weren’t the bad guys, but they weren’t necessarily the good ones either. They did the jobs no one had the guts to do.
San was their top agent who always got the job done. Their golden agent if you would. Coworkers called him Invincible Mountain.
There wasn’t a mission he couldn’t complete.
Only he wasn’t invincible.
You knew that best of all.
You were the one who picked him up after each mission. You were the one that saw his labored breathing while you bandaged him up. You were the one that wiped the sweat from his brow while he fought in his sleep, unable to rest after nights of running.
“I can’t believe they sent you alone.” You grumbled.
“It was a covert mission, stealth was most important.” He said calmly.
San could tell you were upset. He knew that you hated this job.
What he didn’t know was that the only reason you hadn’t quit was him.
“Where do you rank on that list of importance?” You said so low San almost didn’t hear you.
“It’s okay.” San said softly, steadying your now shaking arm. “I’m okay.”
You avoided eye contact as you worked.
“Hey,” He said gently lifting your chin so he could see your face. “Look at me.”
Looking into his soft eyes that we’re worried for you was too much. The tears fell and you angrily wiped them away.
“It’s not okay San. You're not a machine. How hard is it for them to send you some fucking backup!?”
You wanted to yell but knew it wasn’t fair to him so you gritted your teeth until they hurt.
Not wanting your mood to bother San, you took a deep breath. You still felt your face burning and quickly changed the subject.
“So, do you think you can eat? I brought you some porridge.”
San wasn’t sure if he would be able to stomach anything right now. This job… it didn't leave you with much of an appetite.
But as much as he didn’t want to eat he knew that you had taken time out of your crowded schedule to make it for him and just that thought made his heart pang with two many emotions he couldn’t afford to count.
So he sat up as straight as he could and gave you his best smile, dimples and all.
Your heart fluttered as it always did and you cursed the silly thoughts away.
San winced as he picked up the thermos of porridge, the movement straining the pain in his shoulder. You quickly stopped him.
“No No love, let me help you.” You said opening the container and pulling a spoon out of the bag you packed.
San could hardly think with the pain but the moment he heard you referred to him so tenderly he felt as if time had stopped. He couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever called him something like that, and definitely never so softly.
The porridge was still hot so you blew on it, testing it against your lip until it was cool enough before offering it to him. You hadn’t looked at him while you worked so when you finally did you saw a peculiar look on his bruised up beautiful face.
You couldn’t stop the blush that warmed your whole body.
You were glad the van was dim.
All San could do was watch as you prepared a bite of porridge for him with the tenderness that one would for a baby. It felt strange, someone caring for him in such a way. It wasn’t something he’d experienced with anyone.
Anyone except you.
When you looked up at him he couldn’t help gazing into your eyes as emotions rushed him.
Even through the dim light he knew you were blushing.
Your relationship had always been close in the oddest ways.
You would tell him how much you worried for him and missed him while he was busy. You would stay up late preparing meals for him. Sometimes on cold nights you would cuddle up next to him while you two slept.
He’d seen you in your casual clothes while you briefed him for a new mission.
Sometimes you didn’t even have a bra or pants on when he showed up late at night to the door of whatever hotel or cabin you were stationed in asking you to research something for him, but you never made an effort to cover up.
You’d seen him in all states and probably stitched up every inch of his body.
Everyone in the company knew you guys were inseparable which is why they would always send you when it came to dealing with him. After all, you were the only one he would tolerate.
You often drifted to sleep while you worked on the paperwork aspect of the job, resting on each other's shoulders.
To outsiders, there were no clear lines. To be honest, the lines were starting to feel insignificant to you two as well.
As San took a careful bite of the porridge you had so delicately prepared for him, a moment of quiet intimacy enveloped the two of you. The comforting taste squeezed at his heart. Feelings of gratitude and affection for you overwhelmed him.
It was hard to take another bite.
You continued on patching him up between almost forced bites. The stitches of a wound you’d closed up for him not too long ago had popped open. You restiched it along with a new one that now accompanied it.
Luckily this time no severely broken bones, only slight fractures that you bandaged tightly. The more you worked the hotter you became with rage but you did your best to swallow it down.
Suddenly, without too much of a thought, San reached out his hand and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen.
The air in the van fell heavy with the weight of unspoken hearts.
The weight of unexpressed desires hanging between you.
"You know," San began, his voice soft and warm, "It never hurts when you’re the one that patches me up.”
Your voice trembled slightly as you replied, "San, you don’t have to act tough for me. You know that right?"
San's gaze never wavered as he continued in a whisper.
“This morning when you were late I realized something.”
You turned your head in shame, distraught with yourself for being late.
“I’m so sorry.” You said, swallowing to try and calm yourself.
San continued with a soft smile.
“A million possibilities raced through my mind and all I could do was pray that you were okay.”
“You and I are far too similar.” You said, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you thought about the prayers you prayed on your way rushing to him.
“I realized as I layed in the cold trying my best to stay hidden that- that losing you is my only fear. "
You blinked, completely caught off guard by his words.
“How- why would you lose me?” You said, unsure of how to respond.
You wanted to look away but his eyes had a way of holding yours. “Stop saying ridiculous things and finish eating.
Having finished your work you backed away from him leaning against the opposite wall of the van. You tried to take slow breaths to calm your pounding heart hoping he wouldn’t notice.
When that wouldn’t work you looked back at him with a frown.
“What do you mean by saying that?” You whispered, almost afraid to speak at all.
You squinting in the low light in an attempt to better see every nuance of his now pensive face better.
San shook his head.
“I know how wrong I am to say this… I-I need you to stay strong for me.” He replied, his eyes now glued to nothing in particular on the floor. “I don’t know how much of this I can take if you’re not here to bring me home.”
Home? San did have a place that an onlooker would refer to as a home. You’d pretty much seen him sleep anywhere.
Now in the back of a cold and dark old van as you saw his eyes slow with tiredness.
Why did it feel so safe here?
Just the two of you.
“What home San? That’s not really a luxury we’re allowed.” You asked quietly as the depression of the thought gripped you.
But San never noticed the absence of a bed to sleep on or a roof over his head.
He only noticed the absence of you.
San reached out his hand and you took it without thinking too much, allowing it to anchor you, cradling you from despair.
He gently pulled you towards him and you didn’t fight the urge to rest your tired body against his. He held you as close as he could without hurting himself.
“But you know y/n…” San whispered, his chin resting atop your head where he had placed a kiss so softly you wondered if you imagined it.
You laid still, listening to his heart beat, confirming that you weren’t the only anxious one.
You felt the tension ease out of you as his heart slowed and showed yours how to.
He was alive. He was safe. More and more you were feeling that that was truly all that mattered.
In that rickety old van, far away from prying eyes and the chaos of your worlds, you found solace in each other's arms.
“You are my home.”
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