Tumgik
#so much angst tho but it was expected
seiwas · 5 months
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for my writer moots!!
which fic/s of yours did you not expect to take off at all? + which one/s do you want to to give a lil bit more extra luvin to? 🎤
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calithso · 8 months
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i found out all my classmates this year are men
i lost
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meowmix1100blr · 10 months
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Caught up to ep 16!!!! while definitely many changes compared to the novel some I'm happy with, some I'm not overall I'm having a good time!! the angst is delicious 😋 I'm feasting on the hurt/comfort 😂 OH AND THE FOREHEAD TOUCHESSSSS THE FOREHEAD TOUCHESSSSS AHHHHHHH EVERYTIME THEY FOREHEAD TOUCH I GO ABSOLUTELY FERALLLL
#back from the brink#zhou ye#hou minghao#hu xin#forehead touches are literally my weakness#no matter the media i just djgfjshahsh#oh to be forehead touched#the tenderness#the trust the angst the betrayal that come from forehead touches#im looking at your shang chi and wenwu#ANYWAYSSSSS#honestly am loving this show very much there are many chnages but its an adaptation#so i wasn't expecting an exact novel to screen situation#tho i do get excited when smth happens i know it happened as is in the novel#possible spoilers for novel and drama#tho i kinda wish xian ge and feng qian shou were more like the novel hah#their story was so delicious#when she's describing how apparently kills herself in front of him make him plus the public think shes dead#goshfhkdgdisjshsgh#i was hoping theyd do it but nah#their relationship is more watered down i guess they just chilling and im not complaining#tho i kinda expected feng qian shou to be more competent as he was in the novel#still hoping xian ge ends up as a nine tailed fox but i think that ship has passed since apparently she was raised#by a spirit instead#ALSO the snake Spirit and the cultivator (sorry forgot name) story like brooo their story kicked off the whole thing and made me cry#but oh well haha#i quite like the direction theyre taking#and also how healing trauma is not linear#like the novel it was slow healing but iirc there were no major setbacks and steps backwards#which was cool but not the most realistic bc how tf does one recover from being betrayed and torn apart by your beloved who used you
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toestalucia · 1 year
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guhhh i rly enjoyed the lil event story....T_T grans casual speaking....theresa speaking about justice smiling and gran being curious & wanting to see that......allowing her to go on more difficult missions & immediadetly giving her info please ZERO wait. theresa being able to use her skills n learning more through her meetings with the crew.............justice.........mother....................collapses....the entire tea party...T_T uuuuuu captain.................
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briarhips · 2 years
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The blood of Zeus sucksssss
#so badly that I am personally offended#it’s by the Castlevania ppl and I was so in love w that show till it got so messy courtesy of that one guy who doesn’t work on it anymore#but it’s still too tainted for me to pick up 😑 but those first 1.5 seasons of Castlevania were brilliant like. so funny and fluid and good!!#it seems they’ll never too much less match that quality level again!!#blood of Zeus’s lore and characterization is godawfullllll. lamest imaginings of the olympians visually as well. watching for Apollo#mine#so misogynistic and dated too… why is Zeus such a widdle victim. EVEN as they outright state all his terrible life decisions that he had#full power over. is there any work of fiction that characterizes Hera in a way I can get behind like. plzzzzzz#plus the eyeroll worthy done a trillion times over brand of cringe dramatics I’m sick of. no subtlety or nuance just. god wgsuwhwjqjq#(EXCEPT. that 1st scene w Apollo and Electra. tge eyes… that was the preview that’s why I chose the show to begin w. loved that)#also Lisa aka the Good Mom of Castlevania dying was disappointing but it made sense#her plot line was good! why did Electra die in BoZ except for stupid angst. as tho her and Heron’s exaggeratedly miserable lives weren’t#already enough to ‘toughen’/‘prepare’ him. gracious#dying for Zeus’s man pain? why does the GOD need MAN pain.#this particular god. like come onnnn#anyway complaining over. just needed something short and stupid to watch in between hw. and it’s fun to rip apart ngl#I like Heron but his blue eyes detract from his beauty and he rlly is just a guy. hard to dislike unless u expect smth of him#beyond manual labor and going thru the motions of the heroes journey and being a stock Good Guy#where are Hera’s peacocks… and pomegranates :(#OH SPEAKING OF WHICH. why the ravens/crows and blue roses and whatever. why THOSEEEEEE just make another medievally show then good god 😭😭😭
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gazeteur · 2 years
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recently watched decision to leave... it’s so good
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thedelolos · 6 months
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Whumptober 4: Mask of the Morrigan
TW: Rough Makeout, and Brief Second Base action. Feelings of Unworthiness. Angst.
Excerpt:
“What are you afraid of?” Jean calls after her. 
“I am the Morrigan. I am afraid of nothing,” she responds, sitting on the couch and placing the book on the end table.
Jean scoffs, “I might believe that lie if I could not see the terror in your eyes this very moment.” She crosses back to the Morrigan, but does not get as close as before. “Was it a bad kiss?”
“That will be all, Captain.” The Morrigan clasps her hands together and stands from the desk, turning away.
“As you wish, your grace,” the Captain makes a turn towards the door, but stops, and pivots back. “Your grace, may I speak freely?” 
They catch the Morrigan, who is already reaching for something on the bookshelf, off guard. She turns back, book in hand. “As always.”
The persona of the Captain falls away and Jean crosses the room to the Morrigan. Sending her onto her back foot and into the bookshelf.
“May I kiss you again?” Jean asks, hushed, eyes pleading. “Just this once. I haven’t been able to keep my eyes off you this whole day.”
The Morrigan’s eyes widen and then soften at the edges. The mask of the Morrigan falters, the voice falls in pitch. “Jean… I told you. That was a moment of weakness.” 
“But you cannot deny it,” Jean says. “Or else you would have already pushed me away.”
The Morrigan promptly pushes Jean out of the way and moves into further into the room.
“What are you afraid of?” Jean calls after her.. 
“I am the Morrigan. I am afraid of nothing,” she responds, sitting on the couch and placing the book on the end table.
Jean scoffs, “I might believe that lie if I could not see the terror in your eyes this very moment.” She crosses back to the Morrigan, but does not get as close as before. “Was it a bad kiss?”
“No,” the Morrigan blurts out, with no thought behind it. “It was a very good kiss.”
Jean takes a few careful steps forward, and kneels on the ground before the Morrigan. 
“Then say you’ll let me do it again, until there is no more breath in my lungs. You deserve nothing less,” They are staring into each other's eyes. Jean’s eyes flick to the Morrigan’s mauve lips and back up into her eyes. 
The Morrigan reaches out for rook of Jean’s chin and Jean raises up, half crouching and they crash into each other like waves against rocks. Jean is enthusiastic, running her tongue under the Morrigan’s teeth. The Morrigan is reserved, but reciprocates small touches, eyes closed. Her grip on Jean’s chin falling to their neck and becoming an anchor of sorts. 
Jean pushes the Morrigan’s back to the back of the couch and sits spread over her lap. Rough and needy. Jean’s hair falls into her eyes, but they make no effort to move it as they kiss the Morrigan’s neck instead, allowing her a breath.
Jean’s palm grazes the underside of the Morrigan’s breast, and instantly something changes in the Morrigan’s demeanor. She pushes Jean away, Jean stops immediately. “I-I can’t do this, I’m sorry for leading you on. You can–”
“What ever could make you think that?” Jean says breathlessly. “I was enjoying the chase.”
“Captain-“
“None of that. We are off the record. I am Jean, and you are only the most beautiful woman in the wilds...”
The mask of the Morrigan is crumbling. Tears build walls in the rims of her eyes. Jean has never seen the Morrigan cry. They have seen frustration and anger, but never tears. She always seems to be made of steel, sharp as a sword and infallible to the naked eye. 
“Jean, you are very kind. Far more than I could have ever hoped for. But I’m afraid… you only think you love me because this- Because I’m attractive.”
Jean sits on their ankles at the Morrigan’s knees. Their palms rest upon them. The knees knock together, almost imperceptibly. She looks up into the eyes of the Morrigan. 
The Morrigan has the most interesting eyes, rimmed with mulberry wine and swimming with lilac petals. Dark and light in equal measure, consuming and reflecting the fading sun that comes in through the windows.  
“Can I tell you what I see?” Jean lifts their fingers up to cover the Morrigan’s with their own. “I see a buried treasure. I’ve never seen anyone carry themself with such grace under immense weight like you. You are far more charming than you seem to give yourself credit for. Your favorite tea has a spice to it, but there’s this twisted face you make if you drink it and you haven’t added enough sugar. You wash your dishes by hand, even when you could bid them done by magic. And I envy the flowers in your garden for you hold them so tenderly even after they are past their prime.”
A tear rolls down Morrigan's cheek silently, and Jean moves to wipe it away, lingering on how warm her cheek feels, even if it is as pale as ever. Jean pivots to sit on the couch next to her, still wearing their worn leathers. Jean leans in to take the Morrigan’s hand’s fully in her own.  
“Your sense of duty to your people is unmatched, even when it is far too early for owls. I can tell when you’ve been losing sleep because in meetings your eyes will droop. You're not asleep, but not entirely present. In those moments, I want to hold you, to be the reason you fall asleep at night. You are deeply important to me, and it’s gotten harder and harder to pretend that you aren’t. That kiss we had? Any chance I had to keep up the charade died with it. I want to be taken by you in whatever way you’ll have me, but I’m rather taken with you as well.”
The Morrigan finally meets Jean’s eyes. “Taken with me?”
“Like the day steals away with the sun at dusk.”
This hits a nerve that Jean did not know of.
“But you shouldn’t be,” her voice breaks and looks away. “I cannot give you what you need, not to the extent that you want it. You deserve someone who can be your’s: mind, body, and soul. I won’t meet expectations.”
Jean pulls her attention back with a squeeze to the shoulder. “Let me worry about my needs and expectations, Schatz. Your comfort is more important than any need I may have of you.”
“Schatz?” The Morrigan raises a quizzical eye. “I’ve heard it, but–” 
“It means treasured. Unless you care to share your name? If you want to, I won’t force it out of you.” 
The Morrigan thinks for a moment, and takes a big breath, wiping tears from their eyes. “I am Briar, Briar Blumenthal.”  
Jean smiles, “Your name is lovely. Rather poetic actually, Briar. It’s nice to say.” There's a pause. “Briar, What do you want?”
“I think very few people in my life have asked me what I wanted.”
“I’m asking. What is it you want?” Jeans in and Briar’s hands fall on the top corners of their shirt that stick out of the leather. There is intention behind her eyes, but no energy. 
“I think I would like to go to bed early. I need to rest. I did not sleep well last night… Or the night before that.” 
“Alright, I will retire to my quart–”
“No,” Briar says. “Please come up to my room.” Briar swallows a full breath. “If you would like? I’m not good at this.”
“Only if you want me too.”
“Take my hand,” Briar asks, holding a palm out in front. “We’ll be taking the shortcut tonight.”
Jean takes Briar’s hand and Briar waves the opposite hand in a wide arc, casting a shadow large enough to walk through comfortably. They both step through and appear higher in the tower.
Briar’s room is made of circles, there is very little in the way of hard edges. It is not entirely one level either. The main room has continuous circle of steps that sink into the stone floor, but there is a carpet in the middle. Opposite from the door there are three circular alcoves. The one on the right is a closet, the one on the left is an open storage area. In the center there is a large circular bed with windows and curtains behind it. The top piece is a stained glass relife of a willow tree surrounded by purple flowers. Briar stumbles a little bit coming out of the shaded door and then turns to Jean.
“I’m going to change into bed clothes, I suggest doffing your leathers, but don’t worry about changing completely. You needn’t stay long, just until I fall asleep.” Briar turns and walks into the closet, shutting the door. 
Jean stands in the room marveling at the walls. They have never been up here. It’s honestly not what they expected. For someone whose reputation is shadowy and severe, Briar’s room is oddly sunny. Most of the walls are a dull yellow, save for the center alcove that is an olive tone. The blanket is a dusty rose color, but it looks like it hasn’t been touched in a couple of days. Jean starts to release the clasps of the leather breastplate. She wonders if she should have bathed beforehand, but it is too late now.   
There are various potted plants around the room and there is ivy growing around the windows. They are all vibrant and alive, plain but beautiful. The walls are fascinating. There are study notes covered with runes and sigils on one wall. From a glance, and Jean’s own study, they know that Briar is not picky when it comes to magic. She seems to want to know about everything, even if she can’t access the magics herself. It reminds Jean of someone else they know. She really knows how to pick’em.
Another wall is devoted to the sky. To the stories of the constellations, the transit of the moons, and the cycle of the year. There is even one great painting of the night sky, with its own twinkling stars. Jean undoes the clasp on their belt and catches the sword in its sheath before it falls to the ground. 
Briar opens the door to the closet, she’s let the style out of her sleek black hair, and it cascades down her back. It is hard to tell it apart from the long black slip and robe that trails along the ground. She lights a candle or two, yawns, and stalks over to the bed. It is surprisingly low for someone of her height. She pulls the curtains shut, and the green, blue, and purple shards of light on the bed disappear.
“Come around this way,” Briar says, sitting on the bed and swinging her feet over. She pulls the blanket up over her legs. Jean follows suit and joins Briar in the bed. It is comfortable, with just enough to give to the mattress. Briar faces away and reaches back for Jean’s arms pulling them around her waist.  “This is just until I go to sleep, and then you can leave and move along with your business for the evening. We can discuss everything else later. Don’t worry about waking me. Snuff the candles when you leave, I don’t need them to see.” 
“Good to know,” Jean scoops some hair away and tucks into the crook of Briar’s neck. Her arms rest where they are. The blanket is soft and warm. Jean hadn't expected it to be so worn, it has seen lots of use over countless years. Jean has never asked how long Briar has lived here, maybe that will be one of the questions they ask later on. 
“Good night, Briar.”
“Good night, Jean.”
Jean Allard really didn’t mean to fall asleep, they had fully intended to listen and do what they were told. But how could Briar blame them, if they ever found out. The bed was cozy and the lights were low. Briar is seemingly a quiet sleeper, but Jean fell into rhythm with her breathing, which eventually became one breath.
When Jean wakes up, it must be well past midnight. The moonslight leaves a narrow stripe across the bed. The candles are half-burned by now. 
What really perplexes Jean, is the situation that they find themself in now. They are still holding a person dozing peacefully, who has since turned back around and is tucked into their chest. Jean’s arms have wrapped their way around this person’s back. Jean is incredibly content this way. This is not the perplexing part. 
The perplexing part is that Briar seems to be different now, in every sense of the word. Jean raises a hand above her head and produces a small opalescent light to get a better look. This Briar is three feet shorter, with thinner hips, torso, and a distinct lack of breasts. They think over recent events with a new perspective. 
Their hair is different. This Briar has frizzy brown hair that is longer in the back, which when taken care of could potentially be curly. Jean lifts the bangs a little. Their ears read as more gnomish than elven now. The features of the faces are similar and delicate, but distinct from each other. They have the same pointed jaw and cheek bones, but this Briar has a fuller face and a different nose. They are drooling from the corner of their mouth. Their clothes seem to be different as well. Briar is still wearing a robe, but it is far less fancy, and the slip is just a two piece pajama set. The fabrics are similar, but these feel far more practical. 
Jean extinguishes the light, and looks at Briar, justifiably Briar, in the moonslight in front of them. This is not a person who can claim to have classic beauty, especially among the fey, not like the Morrigan could. Somehow Jean is more shocked at the beauty of this sleeping creature, than they were at the beguiling beauty of Briar’s counterpart. They seem to be a bit in between, but that didn’t matter at all. Jean knows this space inbetween intimately. They only wish that they could see Briar’s eyes. They secretly hoped that those would be the same.   
Jean would never tell Briar this, especially as the conflict with the humans and Raoul became worse. But, if they had been awake and willing, Jean would have married them right there, under the moonslight in their bed, exchanged the names and kissed them back to sleep. The names wouldn’t be good or well throughout, but they would be theirs. Jean didn’t need a fancy ceremony to remind them of lasting love, just moonlight and candlelight in a darkened room. Jean didn’t need to know anymore, she knew that one day she was going to marry the sleeping beauty before them. That was a promise. 
She plants a kiss on Briar's shoulder and untangles herself from them. With a wave of their hand the candles go out, and Jean slips out of the room, leaving her armor in a pile on Briar’s floor. 
The armor is still there when Briar wakes up with the sun. They are sad that Jean was not there to greet them as they awoke, but they did say to leave. They turn to get out of bed, when they look up. There is a chipped cup of tea with three scoops of sugar, on the nightstand. It is still pleasantly warm. Briar lifts the cup from the saucer. There is a note underneath that reads:
Schatz,  Find me when you wake up.  Come as you are  ~JA
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thvhoe · 3 months
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Sweeter Than Fiction | JJK
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PAIRING: Boxer!Jungkook x Ballerina!Reader
GENRE: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXING AU, DANCE AU, SMUT, FLUFF ANGST
WORDS: 15K
SUMMARY:
Youre so in love yet miles apart–when navigating trust and distance–What's left to lose? Besides yourselves.
WARNINGS: Angst, JUNGKOOK SMOKING, toxic mom, toxic mindsets, high expectations, mom living her dream through y/n, naive Oc (lowkey), drugs, Jungkook is mad and sad and curses a lot, they are SO whipped for each other, MRS. CHUU SLAYYYYY, its kinda sad tho-, cursing, they're complete opposites, cringe nicknames (obviously), ANNOYING inner thoughs AGAIN, reader is insecure (even more now) shes sad :(, emo boy Jk, inexperienced reader, she feels anxious and alone, bad thoughts
A/N: lord have mercy
You can't pinpoint the exact moment you returned to the hotel, got off your sweaty clothes and into the shower. It was as if time had stopped and everything around you was unreal. The water streaming down your shoulders, hips, and legs, eventually collecting at your feet, scarcely registered in your mind.
You let out a big sigh as you reach for a bottle of shampoo and began massaging it into your hair, savouring the unhurried and careless action. After all, you didn't have anywhere else to be anyway.
Youre pretty sure your moms fast asleep, so you could take your sweet time getting ready for bed, doing your way too long skincare and maybe putting on a movie while youre at it.
The thought of some much needed selfcare puts a smile on your face.
Tomorrow, when you drive back, the trip that would normally take only two hours would probably seem to last forever or to pass in the blink of an eye. Youll soon find out. It's almost as if you've been gone for a few hours, not a whole day.
Everything passed by so fast...the competition, the performance, the drive back to the hotel. It all passed in the blink of an eye and its almost as if your body is moving on its own at this point, your soul just existing within.
Now staring at the mirror fresh out the shower a hollow version of yourself reflects in it, eyes staring into your own as you refelct on every decision that lead you to meet Jungkook.
What would have happened if you hadn't sneaked away to the beach that day? What would have happened if Jungkook hadn't shown up? What if you hadn't scolded him?
"The fish... you know, you could've unintentionally harmed them with the size of those rocks you threw,"
"Fuck the fish,"
"I don't care about some damn fish,"
A giggle leaves your lips at the memory, your hand brushing over your face to clean of the rest of the makeup from today.
You notice a pool of red and grey forms in the water. You can't help but feel relieved as you wash your face, knowing it's now cleaner than it was before.
Its relieving
Applying makeup has always been your least favourite aspect of ballet. Sure, it made you look nice, but taking it off was always a pain. You actually looked better without it, in your opinion. However, whenever you applied makeup, especially when you had a date with Jungkook, there was still a sense of excitement and fun.
Aaand there he was again, filling your thoughts all the time.
Jungkook
Jungkook
Jungkook
Your mind wanders to what hes up to. Was he thinking about you, as well? Or had he gone on with his life?
It's a scary thought.
Maybe that was it? That he might have ended your relationship that day by abruptly leaving your house.
You take deep breath in then out again.
Calm down.
The possibility had never occurred to you before. Could that have been his way of silently saying "we're done"? The ambiguity persists, putting you in a fit of emotions and unresolved questions.
Theres no way hed broken up with you...right? Its true he hasnt texted you in a few days but thats...that was normal after a fight right?
But then again, you didnt even fight, hed just...left.
"Darn it," you murmur as you drop the moisturiser you were using, your hands trembling as you pick it up and close the lid, cleaning up the spilled product.
Fortunately, this diverted your attention away from the tension that was building up in your entire body as you turned off the light and went to bed, ready to leave first thing the next morning.
-
"Do you plan on staying in here all day?" Your mother's voice stops your train of thought, her small figure stationed at the hotel room's entryway.
You take a breather from cramming the last few items into your small pink Remowa suitcase, a gift from Mrs. Chuu on your 16th birthday five years ago.
The memory brings a grin to your face. While you've never been one to seek out the latest Chanel bag or any other high end brand, this thing holds a special place in your heart.
"For when i cant accompany to any competitions" she winks
Your smile grows wider, cheeks roud as you look up at her in adoration "wow" you sigh "thank you so much mrs. Chuu" you hug her tightly, causisng her to let out a huff, patting your back.
"Y/n!" Your mother's voice calls out again, leading you to zip up the bag and apologise to her as you walk to the door. Taking one last look at the room so you wont forget anything.
"Sorry," you begin, knowing that ignoring her is a fast way to irritate her. You've already crossd the line thanks to the shower and long skincare routine in the bathroom that disrupted her "precious" sleep last night. Oh well, you think, brushing off the slight inconvenience.
Your mom wouldnt accept a sorry anyway, so you wondered why you still continued to say it over and over again.
"Have you heard anything from Dad yet?How is his arrival in Australia going?" You ask nonchalantly as you walk past the beautiful reception of the 5 star hotel.
You feel a pang of regret for missing out on the breakfast buffet–you're a sucker for those, but it's too late, and you need to get home before dinner to enjoy the last rays of sun at the beach before it gets dark
"Hes doing fine," your mother says, nodding. "He's pleased with how well you did. I sent him the video of your performance yesterday," she says, a proud smile on her lips. The pride, however, isn't for you; it's because, once again, shes the center of attention of other parents. People admire her for your performance.
You notice how her sense of accomplishment grows with each competitionyou win.
There was a time she used to show you old pictures of herself when she was your age or even younger, she seemed happy, beaming with contentment.
That bliss, however, appears to have hidden deep within her, only to resurface when shes able to live her ballet dreams vicariously through you.
You really appreciate your mutual love of ballet.
Its something that bonds tbe two fo you together.
However, with each tournament you win and price you receive, you can't shake the idea that you're progressively transforming into your mother. What if you end up acting just like her? After all, like she often points out, you two were so similar when you were younger.
You sigh.
Sometimes You can't sleep at night because you're afraid of becoming just like her. You find yourself overthinking, considering whether or not you should have children in the future for that exact reason. What if you put your failed dreams on them, like she did on you?
Shaking your head you drift back to reality.
"Remind him to bring those cookies he got last time," you grin, recalling the treat your father brought back from his previous business trip to Australia two years earlier.
"Don't you think those aren't exactly healthy?" your mother asks as she slips into the car, dragging her new chanel bag with her as you get in from the other side. You roll your eyes.
"It's not like I'll eat them all in one go," you say with a sigh. "Plus, after yesterday, I think I deserve a sweet treat. I'm sick of the same rice and chicken routine," you complain, hoping to persuade her.
Your mother, on the other hand, chooses to disregard your complaints. So you make a mental note to text your dad about those cookies, determined to get what you want. Besides asking him how hes doing of course.
You: hope your flight wasnt too long, mom and i miss you.
You: do bring back some of the cookies you bought last time😋 love you
With that you turn off your phone, the car having started driving a few minjtes ago as you now stare out the window.
Going back home and having to face your problems again was the least you wanted to do right now.
-
"Youre looking for y/n" she breathes out. And Jungkooks world clashes down.
Her words are soft. But hold more meaning than she probably knows. If she found out about you two, that would mean your mom would as well.
He remembers you telling him the two of them were close;
"They hang out from time to time for tea or lunch"
Shit.
Lie, Jungkook. Come up with a good fucking lie because this woman looks like she knows every fucking unholy thing hes ever done
"I have no fucking idea what you're talking about," Jungkook's voice trembled with agitation. His tattooed fists clenched hard at his sides, the pressure turning his knuckles white.
His skin was burning hot, the desire to take off his annoying leather jacket becoming stronger by the minute.
But he was out of here soon enough for him to need it again. So he kept it on. Sweat forming on his forehead.
Youd be so mad if you found out he was here without letting you know beforehand. Fuck. What was his plan anyway?
What would he have done if you were, in fact, here? Finishing up your class, cleaning up the mirror and floor, in your cute pink outfit-
Goddamnit.
"Im sorry for fucking running away from the truth like a fucking idiot" ?
Now thinkjng about it, Jungkook came here unprepared. More than he thought.
For fucks sake Jungkook, get it together.
It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with lying, or that he was particularly awful at it. On the contrary, hed lied about a bunch of shit in his life. Ditching school, ditching family funktions...
But this situation had him in a vice grip, choking the words right out of him. The questions that ran through his head were never-ending. How did she find out? That Was he the one? Did you tell her about him all along? Did she find out the truth on her own? His thoughts were a swirl of perplexity and distrust.
What. The. Fuck.
"If I hear one more obscenity from you, you'll be asked to leave," her calm but firm voice said. It was undoubtedly similar to how you had described her in the early days of your relationship–kind, yet demanding respect and obedience.
"Shes lovely...but you have to have a certain etiquette to..." you drift off, your eyes narrowing. "-to be on her good side?" You tilt your head and Jungkook tilts it right back "i think shed love you regardless, but lets still not...make a big fuss about us being together" you sigh
"Listen," he says, his voice husk and shaky "I don't belong here." His words vibrate through the air, heavy with his desire to leave. "And I'm not going to fucki-" Her strong gaze abruptly ends his sentence. So he takes a big breath and clears his throat before continuing. "What I mean is, I'm not going to pretend that I do."
His arms cross over his chest, creating a protective barrier. Its something hes always done, as if his much stronger-than-before arms would protect him from anything.
His palm then automatically seeks for the cold metal of his Harley keys in his back pocket not even a milisecond later, a way of showing his intention to leave.
But then the woman in front of him speaks up, her words slamming into him like a train. "Y/n left," she says, words piercing through him like a knife.
The words repeat in his mind, echoing in the vacant places of his heart. Even if she said it ten thousand times, he wouldnt believe it.
You...left?
-
The travel home is relatively laid back, with only some soft music playing on the cars radio. As you get closer to Seoul, you notice the buildings getting bigger and the streets increasing, very different from what the countryside looked like just a few hours ago.
Home sweet home is only a few minutes away. And you can't wait to relax in your own bed, and maybe continue the book you were reading. One you bought with Jungkook a few weeks back.
Darn it.
On the other hand, the beach was calling, remindingbyou of your plans of watching the sun set this morning.
It would be a good way to relax, away from home, away from the proximity of your mom.
Just you and a few birds maybe, although it was getting colder...
Your lips purse as your mind wanders through many thoughts, your gaze examining the passing highways and farmland.
The clothes you're wearing become a little too snug, and the thought of changing into your comfy leggings and hoodie becomes more appealing.
What if you put on Jungkook's? The ones he "accidentally" left at your house?
Shit...
Would it be weird? Wearing your boyfriends or ex boyfriends–you still werent sure–hoodie?
You wonder if they'd still carry his smel–that combination of expensive cologne and a tiny hint of smoke
God you hated it. But it reminded you of him.
A sigh escapes your lips, and you notice your mother's faint eye roll in your peripheral vision. She, as always, refrains from asking any questions.
Good. You didnt want her to.
What would you say anyway?; "yeah im sad cause i have no idea if my boyfriend, that ive been keeping a secret from you for months now, broke up with me"?
Yeah right
You notice your lips getting dry as your fingers absentmindedly scrape away the remnants of chipped nail polish, causing you to grab for your favourite vanilla chapstick.
The familiar aroma reminds you of Jungkook, who, ironically, liked this exact chapstick. It's almost annoying how everything seems to point back to him. You can't help but wonder why the world keeps bringing him up. Even the clouds in the sky have become almlst symbolic- wait is that one shaped like his head?
You accidentally smack your head on the window, causing your mother's head to snap back in disapproval.
"Sorry," you mumble as you apply the chapstick and return it to the pink Dior bag.
You need to get out of here. Now.
A heavy sigh escapes your lips once more, and your mother appears to be about to speak out when the car abruptly comes to a halt.
You've arrived. Finally.
-
"Class is at 5 tomorrow!" your mother yells from downstairs as you take two steps up the stairs, eager to get to your room
"Got it!" you yell back, without looking her in the eyes, not wanting to see the stern look she had in them.
Your bag swings violently from side to side, as if you're fleeing from someone, as you reach the last few steps–you're only trying to catch the sunset thats in...you glimpse at your phone–in exactly 25 minutes.
"You can't be late on your first day back after the competition," she adds, her words reverberating in your ears. As you rip your door open, discarding shoes and garments with eager eyes, quietly praying that your favourite leggings made it into Mrs. Lin's washing machine, you dismissively repeat your earlier statement.
After you, in fact, found your favourite leggings, you reach to your closet for a hoodie.
Your wardrobe was big, but each hoodie you see is either too thin for the weather or just plain ugly.
Ripping out a dark grey one hanging at the very end in a split second choice, you smile, only to see it's one of Jungkook's.
Shit.
But, really, could you expect anything else?
A quick peek at your watch informs you that there is no time for a wardrobe change, so you run back downstairs, praying your mother doesn't notice you wearing a man's hoodie...–under your raincoat at least.
It was supposed to rain today, so walking outside without a jacket wasn't a good idea.
The last thing you needed was to get sick now.
As you pass by the kitchen, a breeze messes up your hair, and the fragrance of coffee slows you down slightly.
Coffee at this hour?
A quick check to your right reveals your mother, clutching a mug of what you suppose is coffee and inspecting you.
Looking up and down, raising a brow and then going back to her magazines. Her hair was tied up in a neat bun like she always had, white expensive sweater over her petite frame as she browsed through what you assumed was the latest issue of vogue or some other of he magazines.
You made a mental note to steal them later to take a look as well.
"Where do you think you're going?" She speaks in that irritated, harsh tone that makes your fingers tingle.
Calm down y/n, you've done nothing wrong. Nothing.
"The beach?" you ask, out of breath from the haste of getting dressed, phone clutched in your hand, even if you didnt exactly need it. No one was gonna text you anyway, and music wasnt the vibe you were going for. It was raining anyway, your headphones would just get damaged.
"This late?" You mom speaks up after a second of finishing the last page and now fully turning her attention to you, something you hated. Feeling seen, by her–her judgement. What didnt she like about you today? Your hair? Your shoes? Your makeup?
Maybe too much make up? Or too little?
You merely nod as she snaps back. "Got a bit of a headache, thought some fresh air might help-" your sentence is cut off, your mom letting out an annoyed sigh as she opens another magazine, Elle, interesting.
You can tell she's trying to care. Sorta. But it never quite lands.
Each and every time. You witness her effort, and while it warms your heart to see her try, it also hurts you since she constantly gives up midway.
"You've been going out a lot lately," she says as she takes another sip of the hot beverage, making you choke as you gaze away from her, your fingers playing with the fabric of Jungkook's sweatshirt that's covered away by the coat. Thank heavens.
It's a difficult position, with a little drizzle beginning to fall outside your windows, making you sigh at the thought of taking a shower after returning from the beach. However, not even the weather could stop you from going out tonight.
You needed this.
Freedom.
Fresh air.
You take a deep breath in, then out.
You needed time alone. For real this time.
"Well, I've been making some friends at the academy, so I've been hanging out with them," you explain, a half-truth hanging in the air. Sure, you've made friends, perhaps more than friends, but not at the academy–rather the contrary.
You don't want your mother to dive into the details–instead, you wait for her to hum, look away, and let you go.
That is what you are wishing for right now. However, she surprises you by turning towards you, her brow furrowed, indicating she isn't going to let you off the hook so lightly.
"Really? Who? Do I know who their parents are?" The question catches you off guard, and you clutch your bag anxiously. Oh, no.
"You don't," you say a little too fast, almost stumbling over your own words before you catch yourself and breathe normally again
Your chapsticked lips let out a frightened laugh. Laughable. You mentally roll your eyes as your mother tilts her head. Please don't ask any more questions, please-
"I hope they're not distracting you too much, you know how I feel about that," she says with a shake of her head. "Perfection can't be achieved by anyone but-"
"Yourself," you finish her phrase, causing her to grimace. "I know," you confess. "I swear I'm fine," you say.
Well, you were, till you weren't.
Why does your mother have to speak to you now, of all times? You're on the verge of missing the sunset! So you take a few steps back saying "I'm going to head out now, I promise I won't be home too late," you say, your steps speeding with each syllable.
Ignoring her calls, you rush out the door, over the patio, into the small forest, and finally to the shore.
Only 10 minutes to go.
As you take in your surroundings, a smile spreads across your face. The sight of birds flying in the air adds to the beauty.
This is home.
The beach had a way of taking away your worries, making them disappear.
The slight aroma of Jungkook's cologne from the borrowed hoodie brings you back to reality as you stand there.
Talk about perfect timing.
-
Despite Jungkook's initial attempt to remain calm and appear unconcerned about Mrs. Chuu's statements, the undeniable truth hung in the air–he came here for you.
Mrs. Chuu was onto him. That was for sure.
Yet, Jungkook avoids looking back at her for the first several seconds, allowing her words to sink in like heavy weights.
'She left.' The words repeat in his head like a endless loop, running marathons around his mind, each repetition amplifying ihis dizziness.
The, the realisation sinks in–he made a huge mistake. Obviously.
'What if' possibilities swirl in his mind like a storm.
"She's at a competition," Mrs. Chuu says, breaking the silence. "You must have really messed it up with her because she decided to participate very spontaneously." The weight of her words hangs heavy on Jungkook as he gulps and turns to face her.
Mrs. Chuu shakes her head in despair as guilt is engraved all over his usually composed features. "I offered her to go a few weeks ago, and for some reason, she immediately denied," she adds as Jungkook remains silent. "Now I know why."
Jungkook's brows knit in bewilderment as a realisation dawns, causing his face to relax for a brief minute.
You refused to go because of him?
You didn't want to be apart from him, even for a day?
The weight of that realisation strikes him like a punch to the gut.
Fuck.
He needed to fix this.
"I was surprised when her mother called me a day before and said she agreed to go after all," Mrs. Chuu's voice fades into background noise of Jungkook's rushing thoughts. As the gravity of the situation sinks in once more.
Then, he fjnally speaks up, his voice huskier than he expected. "Where is she?"
3 words. 3 words that change Mrs. Chuus features into something unreadable.
She sighs, her brow furrowed at him now, aggitated.
"Busan," she says as she crosses her arms. "She comes back tomorrow at around 7 pm.". She doesn't know why she is disclosing so much information to Jungkook. There's a nagging worry that he made a huge mistake, and you'll be mad at her for revealing your whereabouts in the first place.
What if you two had broken up and you never wanted to see him again? And here she was giving him all your information without hesitation.
But her gut was never wrong.
Jungkook's mere presence says a lot. He's come to make things righg, to admit he made a mistake. That must be a good thing, right?
"Busan?!" Jungkook groans, tossing his head back and pacing back and forth, muttering "fucking Busan" under his breath as he shakes his head. His hands play with the key of his harley, fidgeting nervously as he goes through option after option for a way to see you
Mrs. Chuu disapproves of his choice of words once again, forcing him to clear his throat and retort, "How am I supposed to get to Busan this late?" He almost whines, and Mrs. Chuu sighs as she comtinues on cleaning the mirror of the studio, leaving Jungkook to his own
"This boy" she mutters under her breath, making sure to bring him up whenever you have class again. Which was the day after tomorrow, that long she had to wait.
"I'll arrive there at the ass crack of dawn if i head there now" his words feel as helpless as theyre supposed to sound as he looks up the fastest way there on his phone, turning it off right after. It had no use. Youd be asleep whne he arrives.
Mrs. Chuu smacks him with the towel she was cleanig with, and he promptly apologises, easing the tension in the air.
He needs to go find you
Jungkook's thoughts are all over the place, making the room feel stuffy. He can't talk to you today since you're too far away, and calling you now would be a total jerk move. He may not be a relationship expert, but he understands that's not the way things go.
Checking his phone, a few strands of hair fall over his face. It's already 8 pm. Going to Busan at this hour? Yeah, not gonna happen. Plus, if you think about it, you'd definitely hate for him to drive so late at night.
With that in mind, he raises his head again, his eyes round and honest, a stark contrast to his dragon-like gaze just moments before. "Don't tell her mum," he exhales. "If she finds out y/n is with someone like me-" he runs his fingers through his hair, the leather jacket making an uncomfortable noise, breaking the silence.
Mrs. Chuu scoffs and turns back to him.
"What? Do you think I'm a traitor?" She sighs and shakes her head. "You've been with her long enough to know what would happen if she found out," she continues, now turning her entire body towards him, tossing the towel she was using to clean the mirrors as she steps forward.
Jungkook gulps.
"You're not the kind of guy I expected my Y/n-ie to be with," she grimaces before continuing and Jungkook nods, about to say something.
What exactly? He doesnt know. Fuck, he didnt know shit right now, his mind full of you, you and you.
"But she's never been this happy, so I won't say a word to her mum or anyone," she continues. Her face softens, and Jungkook finally sees what you see in her–love and care
It takes Jungkook a minute to process her words, having expected her to say anything but that. But hes glad, relieved that one of the most important people in your life approves of him. Well, sorta.
"Thank you," he exhales, slightly uncomfortably. He usually despised acting nice, but he wasn't acting right now–it was genuine.
There is a little pause before Mrs. Chuu sighs, "Now get out of here." If someone else finds you, you're in big trouble, young man."
Jungkook quickly obeys when she orders him to leave. Finally exiting the academy and heading straight for his black Harley.
His lungs fill with fresh air rather than the delicious perfume of the academy, and the weight lifts off his shoulders as if its never been there in the first place.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow hed talk to you, for real.
-
The rain isn't as severe as expected, and you're relieved since it means you can stay at the beach a little longer without becoming too cold.
It was your last free day, or rather the last few hours before returning to your mundane ballet sessions from 5 am to 1 pm.
The early morning hours had an unmistacable allure that made you feel more productive, therefore the ideal 5 am wake-up call each morning.
But, you frequently found yourself staying in the studio for longer periods of time, going over techniques, polishing routines, immersing yourself in music, and analysing other performance films.
It was your way of relaxing after preactice, something you did instead of reading or redecorating your room for the 10th time in a month.
Being a dancer was definitely rigorous, a never ending pursuit of perfection, but it was also strangely peaceful and satisfying. It was your comfort zone, something you enjoyed doing.
Regardless of your mother's persistent pestering, in the back of your mind, you felt personal growth as you submerged yourself in the steps and melody
A shudder runs down your spine when the rain grows heavier
Jungkook's hoodie is incredibly soft and warm–none of yours came close. Then again, it could just be the fact that it was Jungkook's hoodie, because he had a way of making you feel warm without even being present.
You don't try to shift your thoughts this time. Perhaps this is exactly what you need right now–to let your thoughts wander, to reflect on the wonderful and difficult moments with him, the ups and downs, even if there were more ups than downs.
The thought makes you smile, your fingers lazily fiddling with one of the rings on your finger as you stare at the sea
The waves are quite aggressive, and the storm is getting stronger by the minute. Still, you want to remain a little longer–the sun is about to set, and maybe, just maybe, you'll see a shooting star and make a wish.
I want everything to turn out good, for both of us, youd wish. And if that means splitting up, so be it.
Jungkook and you both need to find happiness.
People, like the books you've read in your 21 years, aren't always meant to be.
The thought makes you shudder, why couldnt you have one good thing last in your life?
A nervous sigh escapes your lips as you detect a single small tear flowing down your cheek.
But you're quick to dry it up with some tissues youd packed in your bag at all times. Spotting your favourite vanilla scented hand cream, you also apply that one and take a wiff when you bring your hands close.
"That one smells like you, babe," Jungkook says softly beside you, handing you a what seems to be travel sized hand cream.
After taking a sniff, you sigh, "Vanilla?"
Jungkook simply hums against your neck in affirmation "sweet like my sugar" he teases
The piercing sound of thunder jolts you out of your reverie, and you take that as a sign and decide it's time to go back. The rain is getting heavier, and you don't want to be entirely soaked when you get home.
You hoped your mom had already gone to bed or was in the livingroom watching some of her shows when you arrived home, not wanting to deal with more questions.
You hum as you stand up from the rock under the tree where you were sitting and grab your yellow tote bag, letting it hand losely over your shoudler as you take the first few steps careful not to fall.
The sand scrunches up under your feet, and the slight wind of the storm makes you shiver
You take a different path than usual. You know the forest would be a muddy mess by now, so you choose a different route. As you stroll through the park nearby, rain patters on the leaves, creating a calming sound.
The distant roar of thunder adds urgency to your steps. You lips letting out a sigh when you still manage to spot a bit of dirt on your shoes.
Great, youd have to clean those up later.
Because your eyes are locked on the ground, you don't even notice a few people passing by. You don't want to engage in any more talks today.
Not wanting to ruin anyones mood with your own. You werent mad, nor sad, maybe it was a mix of all emotions at once. Anyway, you didnt wanna make anyone feel the way you felt right now.
Lost
Confused
Relieved?
When you trip over a rock that must have tumbled into the path, the odds don't appear to be in your favour. Your eyes instinctively close as you prepare for impact, gasping and anxiously groping for anything to stop a fall.
But the fall never occurs. Instead, two arms reach out and grab you before you hit the ground. A wave of relief washes over you.
Just what you needed right now. You mentally roll your eyes.
"Y/n?" A strangely familiar voice calls out to you, a hand softly smoothing over your now messy, damp hair as he gets a closer look at you.
Jimin.
Park Jimin is standing right in front of you, unexpectedly saving you from what you thought would be a day long headache.
Talk about wanting to be alone, but Jimin hasn't done anything to irritate you, so you force a smile on your lips–one Jimin knows is nonsense.
"Shit, what's wrong?" As he examines your face for scars or unfamiliarities, his voice becomes more concerned. When he doesn't find any, only smudged lip gloss and unclean mascara, he exhales a sigh of relief, his concern still written all over his features.
His, now too, damp hair is a few shades darker than his usual blonde, messy like yours, and his brows furrowed deeply
For a little minute, you remain silent, feeling burdened by the weight of what you should say. Lie? Tell him the complete truth and prepare for a long peptalk? The latter does not appeal to sound good, so you opt for a half lie. "Just a bad day," you sigh, hoping to minimise the situation. "Happens," you explain.
Jimin simply nods, removing his jacket and draping it over your head. It's a thoughtful gesture, and you appreciate it, but it feels wrong–too close.
You remind yourself that, last time you checked, you still had a boyfriend and you'd believe it unless Jungkook said otherwise.
Jungkook.
You needed to talk with him.
"Shit, be careful," Jimin says again as you slip on the damp ground, still reeling from the fall, or, almost fall from earlier
"Sorry," you mumble beneath your breath, a giggle leaving your lips at your clumsiness.
"Where are you going?" He asks, wanting this to feel less awkward. You feel bad, it was you who was making this weird in the first place.
Careful not to overwhelm you, he places his hand against your shoulder as he leads you across the street. "Home," you answer quietly, "I was at the beach," you add, your mind racing again, adrenaline rushing after your almost-fall.
"In this weather?" Jimin cries out, his bag of shopping–which you hadn't noticed until now–almost falling down.
"Careful," you chuckle, eventually looking up at him as you both pick up some tangerines that fell.
However, the euphoria is short lived as another, stronger thunder strike reverberates, this time sounding closer and the rain intensifying tenfold.
Darn it.
Looking about close to tears–because, for the love of God, you despise thunder–you see you're not even close to home. Instead, you're on a street that looks all too familiar.
Of for f-
Shit
-
In the early morning hours, the gym walls pulse with rapid beats of music. Motivation for those who need it.
People rushing in for an exercise, whether for a pre work session or simply because they're insanely over motivated.
Jungkook walks through the crowd, head held high, boxing gloves swinging from one hand, gym bag nonchalantly thrown over the other.
Walking inside the changing room, giving no flying fucks if someone greets him or attempts small talk along the way, he places his black designer workout bag in its official spot in front of the lockers.
Well
It's an unofficial rule–Jeon Jungkook's spot isn't officially marked with a name tag all shiny and golden, but everyone in the gym knows not to occupy it.
Crossing paths with Jungkook, especially if you want to be on his good side, is nearly impossible. He didnt talk to people that didnt benefit him. He's not arrogant about his celebrity status in boxing–he recognises it but dislikes broadening his social circle.
Jungkook appreciates his inner circle, and–some might say–you've earned a spot in it.
He shakes his head–hed earned one in yours.
As he thinks about you, a curse escapes his lips, realising that today requires him to do an outstanding performance to repair the damage done by being the shittiest boyfriend ever.
He cringes at the memory of himself walking out your room, to his harley, and leaving you standing there. Alone.
Feeling the weight of the day's stress, he runs his fingers through his hair. The gym is his saviour right now–so, he can vent his frustrations in the ring.
He almost feels bad for those unfortunate souls who were planned to train with him today–Namjoon won't arrive until later, and Coach Chan is out of town, leaving Jungkook with a solo session to release his pent up energy with somekne other than them
But for now, he'd ease into his regimen by doing a warm up by himself. Striding out of the changing room, grabbing his water bottle and shrugging off the stares of others in the room, he takes a nice spot near one of the punching bags, his hands already wrapped tightly–because, God forbid, you see his bruised up hands today, that would definitely result in a full fledged fit on your side.
Nonetheless, your scolding was preferable than having you being mad at him for any longer.
A slight smile appears on his face. In the middle of the thoights that linger in the back of his mind, the idea of you forgiving him becomes a motivator, a light of hope.
-
"You know he has a girlfriend right?"
Lisa's voice breaks through the gym's loud music–the usual suspects gathered around the ring, each in their own world–some hooked to their phones, others engrossed in watching people fight, and a few simply hanging out.
"Shark's" was the gym in Seoul, the big shot where everyone hung out. It had everything–a spa, an entire floor dedicated to showers, every training gadget imaginable, and, of course, the boxing rings.
That section was only for members like Jungkook though, professionals.
But then how could Wendy, Irene, and their gang get in here every day to keep an eye on the boys? Easy. Money
Wendy scoffs at Lisa's remark, locking eyes with Irene and exchanging a giggle that echoes throughout the gym.
Ew. Why were they here again?
"How long, though? I heard they haven't talked in days," Wendy giggles, ignoring the significance of the relationship even further, looking lisa up and down as if she was anything less than them.
Lisa rolls her eyes and shifts her sight to Jihyo, who is deep in conversation with one of Irene's friends. She wouldn't be here if it weren't for Jihyo–Wendy and her strange circle were the polar opposite of Lisa's interests.
Lisa watched the most of the matches religiously, having grown up in this gym due to her dad owning it.
She grew up on sports, boxing, and just the people around here in general
While her mom worked in teaching, her dad took care of this gym. Lisa had always been a daddys girl.
Wendy and her girls, on the other hand, only had a single goal, and their aim at this time was none other than Jungkook.
Well
Wendy has been after Jungkook for years now, which causes Lisa to roll her eyes again. The amount of times Jungkook has rejected this girl is more than one could count with their hands.
It was pathetic, really.
It must be exhausting for him. While some felt that this kind of attention bolstered their ego, others, like Jungkook, despised it, especially since he now had a girlfriend.
You
"Who said that?" Lisa responds, scanning the area for Jungkook, who is warming up at the punching bags.
He's been quiet recently, so maybe Wendy wasn't just talking shit for once–maybe something happened between you two.
She never got to meet you because of Jungkook's overprotectiveness and his tight rule against allowing you to come to the gym–something about "oh its too dangerous, too this too that yada yada"
She rolls her eyes again, her gaze returning to Wendy, Irene, and the other girls.
"People talk," Irene responds, both of them giggling as they see Jungkook's drenched form from afar. Lisa simply hums in response and grabs Jihyo's hand when she returns, abandoning the group and going over to him.
Enough gossiping for the day, the last thing Lisa wanted is for them to start pondering her about the guys again.
Lisa was a girls girl through and through...just not for these snakes.
"Sup, Kook," Jihyo js the first to speak up when they reach the ring, first bumping him after Lisa, earning a hum and nod from his part.
Damn
Jungkook ever the talkative
They've been friends since Jungkook began attending this gym. While Jungkook had a crush on her for...probably.even less than a day, Lisa quickly put him back in his lane when he discovered she doesn't swing that way. They've kept a strong friendship since then.
"Yo," Jungkook exhales, still a little winded from his warm-up, also greeting some other guys who enter the area.
His hair is damper than before and Lisa rolls her eyes when he takes his shirt off and throws it beside her, groaning she flicks him off.
"How much you think they'd pay for this one?" Lisa chuckles, indicating towards Wendy and her crew, who are ogling Jungkook's wet shirt.
Jihyo simply smacks her on the arm, mumbling, "Probably thousands."
"Shit, that's fucking nasty," Jungkook shakes his head, casually tucking his shirt into the bag he carried with him.
Their talk is interrupted by a few guys who start talking to Jungkook, and when they leave, lisa speaks up again
"Hey, just so you know," leaning against the wall and popping a gum in her mouth, lisa starts "the snakes are talking about you again, saying you and Y/n broke up or something."
Jungkook's face drops for a split second before groaning. "We're okay," he assures her. "I'm not planning on breaking up with her anytime soon."
He shakes his head, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel before nodding to one of the newcomers. "My turn," he says, motioning towards the ring before approaching it.
"Yeah, talk to you later, loser," Lisa jokes, rolling her eyes at him before sitting down at the benches close by with Jihyo, starting to set bets on whod win.
The answer is Jungkook.
It was always Jungkook
-
The rain is pouring so hard that you can feel every drop at this point, it hurt, your vission blurry as you can prpobably only see the first few meters in front of you before everything goes foggy. It doesnt help that its nighttime by now, providing even less light.
What exactly did you do in your past life to deserve this treatment.
A frown forms on your face. You never frowned. Not for no reason anyway.
But your day was going to bad, the drive with your mom, the the talk with her and then those intrusive thoughs about Jungkook. And you loved thinking about Jungkook.
Just...not right now. It hurt. It hurt thinking about him.
Another drop of water lands on your nose, and you flinch, wiping it away.
"Damn," Jimin mutters, scanning the area for cover as the storm grows. There are trees everywhere, just fucking trees, as if nature is making fun of you. You were in the middle of the city for heavens sake, how did you end up in the only area with no buildings?
This really felt like a joke. A bad freaking joke.
You also felt bad for Jimin who wouldve been at home by now if you hadnt bumped into him not even 15 minutes ago.
You were just bad luck if it was a person. Ruining everyones day.
But Jimin and you keep walking, looking for a convenience store or whatever, just something to hide you from the rain and warm you up. Because of course it was cold as shit too.
And your feet were wet. And so was your hair, and face. And you wanted to yell out. But you couldnt. And you wouldnt. Because thats not how your mom raised you.
"Sit still look pretty"
Darn it.
"There," Jimin says, pointing to a large structure with neon lights flashing. Of course, it's familiar.
You havent been here yet but darn it if thats not the exact building youve seen in the background of Jungkooks fotos several times.
"Whats that building" your head rests on his shoulder as you look down at his phone, in awe at the pretty neon lights that read 'Shark's'.
A smile forms on Jungkooks lips, piercing standing out even more now as he answers "my gym"
The white and grey walls, flashing lights from inside, and big windows letting you poeple watch.
Just great.
No really, lovely
You're almost wet, water dripping from your skin as if you'd just jumped into the sea–which you didn't, but Mother Nature didn't care.
You swallow hard as Jimin motions to the large building again.
There in bold neon lights the Sharks logo beamed in all its glory like it wasnt about to be your downfall.
Sharks, Jungkook's gym.
Because, obviously, there's nowhere else to go to escape the storm but your boyfriend's gym. Today couldnt get any better. Note the sarcasm
"Great," you mutter, "no really" you sigh again following your friend inside, because yes, this was about to be so awkward if Jungkook saw you like this, but also, you were so freaking cold that youd do anything for a warm blanket or even a shower.
It turns out that staying here wasn't just your idea–a swarm of others rushed in behind you, and many were already inside.
You're torn.
This is not how you planned to face Jungkook after so many days. So much and so little has happened since your last talk, and you're convinced that if he sees you like this, he'll just laigh and turn away. But then again, Jungkook wasnt like that.
Your mind, on the other hand, doesn't seem to grasp that message. It liked playing with you by painting worst case scenarios. Always.
"Doing alright? Look, they're handing out towels." Jimin, ever the gentleman, leads you to the lobby, where he grabs two warm towels for both of you to dry off.
You take your time, burying your face in it in case Jungkook happens to pass by. You're pretty sure he'd notice you from a mile away. Because you most certainly would
His dark hair. Sometimes long sometimes short. His many piercings. His broad shoulders and breathy laugh. Everything about jungkook stood out like a sore thumb. In the best way possible
"Im okay" you speak up after a while, answering the question Jimin asked way too long ago. You give him a small smile and its then that Jimin knew–youre definitely not.
-
"Hey, what's happening out there?" Lisa squints as she looks out the window on the fifth floor.
Rain was falling like a waterfall, and thunder was terrifying the fuck out of her girlfriend, who clings to her with her eyes screwed shut.
Not just her, though, most of the people inside this gym looked confused and terrified. It's been a long time since the weathers been this bad, and besides, it happened so fast.
"Shit," Lisa mutters, her phone flashing with a single notice amidst her messages–Hurricane.
-
"A fucking hurricane?" Jungkook mumbles, his gaze fixed on Lisa's phone. Shed rushed up to him immediately after to show him how severe the weather was outside–not like Jungkook had two proper working eyes that couldve figured that out if he just looked outside for a second
You hated thunder
It's much later now, and Jungkook has finally taken a break after hours of training, only to be confronted with this news.
A fucking hurricane, another thing stopping him from seing ypu and he might as well just break anything in sight. His chest heaving from anger and frustration and sadness and relief? That he didnt have to face the embarrassing truth just yet.
For fucks sake he might as well never talk to you if he continues this way, making excuses not to see you, not to talk tk you, not to make things right...like he should be doing.
"We can't go out right now," Jihyo says next to Lisa, "the news says it's best if we stay in."
Fuck the news. Is what he wants to say, but honestly the weather outside was not optimal to drive his harley in right now.
Youd hate for him to drive in the weather.
And there you were agian, occupying his mind. Your face, smiley as ever, your giggles ringing in his ears, your-
"Jungkook" lisa speaks up, trying to catch his attention by snapping her fingers in front of his face
But Jungkook no longer listens to her, his thoughts on you. Shit. Are you already at home? Or are you still driving back from husan? In that instance, what if you got in an accident and the last thing you remembered him for was being a jerk? No. He couldn't allow that to happen.
Hed go insane. Hed actually fucking go insane.
"She'll be fine," Lisa says, as if she could read his mind. Before taking Jihyo away from the window and the terrifying scene of the hurricane outside, her hand momentarily brushes his shoulder, as if to console him.
Goddamn it, today of all days. He couldn't even leave the gym, so how was he meant to go talk to you now?
It was now dark, and he should've been at your house a long time ago. Screw that.
How much longer can he prolong the talk until it was too late?
Until hed lose you.
When a drop of sweat falls on his nose, he wipes it away without hesitation. He needed a shower, which he usually took at home because, no offence to Lisa and her father, gym showers were disgusting. Period.
But sweat was flowing down his upper torso, which was still completely visible to everyone around–not that he was the only one, but he was the only one that mattered. It should come as no surprise that Jungkook was in great shape, even more so after you stopped talking. He'd been working out and eating like a maniac since nothing could fulfil his craving for you. Jesus. Calm down.
He lets out a sigh.
Calm the fuck down. He thinks to himself when his chest starts heaving again.
Wendy giggles as she walks by him. He scoffs, finding it disgusting.
He throws his bag over his shoulder and walks to the showers without looking at her. His feet make contact with the icy tiles, sending shivers down his spine. It's fucking cold.
Fuck.
But he still needs a cold shower. A way to punish himself because he broke you. That is, at least, how he sees it. You're broken. Nothing can change what he's done.
He once again beats himself up for what he ddi, and with good reason.
This wanst some kind of movie. You werent gonna come running into his arms–not that you had to.
You werent gonna accept his apology–not that you had to.
You just werent gonna be his again–not that...you had to.
But you had to.
In his head, you had to because if not Jungkook wouldn't be able to live with himself again. And he was being selfish because who wouldn't if they were convinced they lost the love of their life.
As he walks out of the shower, the water stops, his gaze darting to other guys in the room but he walks right past them. There is no time for small talk. He ruffles his hair as he dries it, then pulls a random shirt from his locker and puts it on, then a hoodie on top and loose dark pants. It's strange.
He pauses midway on his wya out, staring at his locker and then down his frame.
He usually kept one specific hoodie in his locker, just for the gym because it wasbt his favourite and he didnt mind getting it dirty. Then he recalls coming to your house after the gym one night. He most likely left it there.
He bites his lip, playing with his piercing as he zones out for a second remembering that night. Your giggles, his complaints about totally not wanting to get his hair braided. But eventially giving in.
Then taking that hoodie off when he got to hot by the way you were making out on your bed.
Then your mom knocked on the door. Asking why you were giggling so much, and you scold Jungkook. And he pinches your side.
A smirk forms on his lips.
And then you decide to keep his hoodie as a punishment.
Did you already get rid of his things?
As he walks out of the changing rooms and out to the ring, he is startled by the sound of thunder. He looks around and out the window–the weather had calmed down a little.
Instead of the pouring rain not even 20 minutes ago, it was a lot softer now–not quite gone yet–but enough to drive home.
Definitely enough.
Hes unsurprised to watch a large crowd of people waiting for the rain to stop when he steps down the last stair of the second floor. Each person immersed in their own world, whether it's talking with friends or lazily scrolling through their phones.
Staff was handing out towels and water, some poeple were even heating up some food in the cafeteria close by. And jungkook just knows he had to get out. Not wanting to deal with a big crowd of people today, even if they werent here for him, it made him uncomfortable. So step by step, he walks towards the big entrance, already reaching for the pack of cigarettes inside his pants when he stops in his tracks.
His ears start ringing, everything except one sound going numb in his ears.
Your laugh
-
"Sit here. I'll go over there and get us some hot tea." Jimin gestures to the cafeteria, which is already packed with people eager to grab something hot to eat or drink.
You werent thirsty, but anything that would warm up your body and dry throat sounded like heaven right now.
Your modest nod indicates that you're fine with it and appreciate the gesture. You don't stop him when he walks away, even if he was hoping you would. And he watches you sit at a little area on one of the couches, barely visible in the midst of the mob.
One would have to look for it specifically, to make out your form. Your face is more hollow than it was when you came in here. Did something happen in here that made you feel uneasy? Was there anything that bothered you while he was here that he didn't notice?
When he bumps against a 6-foot-something guy on his way, hes yanked out of his thoughts as he apologises. The thought entirely vanishing from his thoughts. Perhaps for good.
Another loud sound of thunder makes you jump, apologising as you slightly hit the woman beside you, your head resting back into your palm as you close your eyes and sigh, feeling like you could finally breathe that day.
It stinks in here, maybe using a gym as a place for shelter wasnt a good idea, but also, you shouldnt be complaining. This was better than staying out there in the rain and getting sick.
Youd never hear the end of it from your mom.
Talking about her, shed definitely scold you for coming home later than planned. Great, another issue you had to deal with. Because of course youd nothing better to do.
Jimin reappears as quickly as he left, holding two steaming cups of tea in his hand, which you gratefully accept with a little "thank you."
As you take a sip, you're surprised he chose your favourite, green tea. You sigh as it hits your chilly, dry throat, unknowingly showing your appreciation, making Jimin grin as he teasingly pats himself on the shoulder.
"I'm such a good friend," he jokingly says. "Always thinking about your well being," he adds, and you smirk because, yeah, he was right.
He was a good friend. He didn't have to be here with you right now–he could be at home, all cosy, but he decided to take you home before the weather decided otherwise. Your lips quiver at his mocking, and you slap his arm playfully.
"You're so funny," you ironically say letting out another giggle
And for the tiniest second. You feel the way you felt a couple days ago–careless. There was absolutely nothing on your mind, no anxiety, no worries, what would happen next. But then again–just for a couple of seconds.
Because the moment you look up, that beautiful smile of yours, real and able to make anyones day better just by looking at it, fades.
What.
The.
Frick.
-
Jungkook could find you in any room, blindfolded, with noise cancelling headphones blasting music. He was so in love with you that it seemed like he always knew if you were alright or not.
Jungkook had known you weren't fine for days. He wasn't feeling well either, but fuck him, and damn his gigantic ego, and damn his big head for making him overthink that night.
Jungkook could spot you from miles away. If you were a grain of sand, he'd search across all the world's beaches. It sounds ridiculous, given that all he accomplished in the previous days was the opposite. He wanted to blame it on you being at your competition, but he couldn't because he'd never not look for you. Hed never lose you.
Well, maybe be did.
But not physically, because youre in front of him, well, just a couple meters away, sitting there. Fuck, youre giggling, and its not his imagination, youre actually in front of him. Soaking wet.
Wait- soaking wet?!
Fuck. The hurricane.
Jungkook doesn't waste any time in closing the gap between you two, his steps and presence forcing you look up, and he watches as your breath becomes laboured. You look at each other for one, then two, then three, four, and five seconds before standing up. You get to your feet and meet him halfway.
His palm reaches for your red and frigid cheek. Has no one handed you one of the stupid blankets that are being handed out here? Fuck
Unless you've just arrived, in which case your hair is soaked, as are your clothes—your trousers and shoes. Those were your favourites, as well as your hoodie. His. The one he left behind
And yet. Yet you looked fucking beautiful, breath taking. Your hand meets his, running over it, probably enjoying the warmth and comfort.
This is not how he expected to see you again–he thought youd avoid him forever, denying him the opportunity to apologise.
"Kook," you manage to say, your voice gentle and lovely, so... you. Jungkook nods, understanding all you meant by merely speaking out his name, and shakes his head among all these people who dont even care about you two.
"I know," he admits, sighing. "I-damn, I know," he groans, pressing his palm against your cheek, softly, not wanting to let you go, his other hand reaching out to bring your waist closer. You're freezing and drenched all over
He cant take care of you.
"Lets get out of here" he whispers, and he feels selfish because he doesnt have a right to tell you what to do. All you do is stare at him, and then at Jimin who he just now notices. Oh for fucks sake.
His harsh gaze meets Jimin's, who is holding two cups awkwardly in his hand. They exchange blank stares for a few seconds until you pull Jungkook's fingers away from your cheek. "I can't," you say quietly. You can't, of course.
Jungkook simply nods because what else can he do? He'd lost you. He'd lost you and at what cost?
Your gaze returns to him as he holds up your jacket, the rain having ceased and people walking out one by one. Soon, it was only you and a handful others in the lobby. Jungkook's hand is still on your hip because why not?
But he shouldn't, so he attempts to get rid of it but physically cant. His body will not allow it. So you stand there, his dry self holding you tight as your gaze darts between him and Jimin, perplexed, pondering what to do, where to go.
Okay. You think to yourself. Jungkook looks regretful. You almost feel sorry for him.
Who are you kidding?. You'd give anything right now to be back in his arms because hed just proven that silly voice in your head wrong once and for all. He still cared
"Y/n," Jimin says softly, offering your jacket towards you, and you take it, lowering it on the floor, your hand lazily barely holding on to it as he continues to speak, all while Jungkook's stern glare is fixed on him. "Sorry to interrupt," he indicates with his hands at you two, "but my cousins are waiting for me at home for the groceries," he holds his bag up, and You nod so quickly that you become dizzy.
"Oh my god," you exclaim, "I'm so sorry I didn't-" he cuts you off,
"it's fine, you're in good hands," he glances towards Jungkook, "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" All you have to do is nod.
As you stand in the lobby, your eyes follow Jimin as he walks away, your ears beginning to ring in uncertainty.
So, what's next? Do you talk? Do you walk away because you're angry? Because you were both thrilled and irritated to see him. And sad and frustrated.
Jungkook's hand twitches at your waist, causing your sight to return to his, and he's already looking at you, as if waiting for something in your eyes to start his apology, since, of course, he had to be the one to apologise.
You didn't do anything wrong. In his opinion, you never did. You were flawless. He didn't deserve you. And he didn't deserve your love–on the other hand, you deserved his tenfold.
His tattooed hand reaches out for you again, this time stopping at your cheek and softly caressing it, and you almost melt into his touch, coming in closer.
"I'm so fucking sorry," he mumbles a second later, his voice heavy and deep, almost drowning you in it.
And you missed it. His touch, his voice, him.
But how quickly are you willing to forgive him? How much would you let him do to show hes sorry? You simply nod because you don't know what to say, do, or know how to act.
Theres another sound of thunder, this time gentler, and Jungkook grabs your trembling hand in his. You're freezing. Of course, you still were. So he removes his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders.
And you let him because what else could you do? You breathe in, then out, and then you take his hand, all bruised from fighting, and flinch a little. Then you look him in the eyes again and sigh.
"I-" your voice breaks and Jungkook nods erratically encouraging you to speak, but you dont. And you feel stupid because its not that hard. You wanna go home. Climb into bed and forget about today. But that also meant forgetting about seeing Jungkook.
Youre still mad at him. But the thought of having to deal with your mom at home makes you wanna run and hide in Jungkooks chest. Like you always did.
He was your safe place till he wasnt.
But you needed him right now. And maybe it was selfish, but you were willing to put anything aside now–just for some closure
Listen, Jungkook had all the patience in the world with you, but as he watched and watched your trembling state and hollow face, he needed to get you somewhere warmer, washed up, and under a blanket as soon as possible.
Because youre his girl still, until you told him you werent.
And even if you did, hed still give you the world becaus eits what you deserved.
The issue was that he came here on his Harley–it was only a 10 minute drive. And it was still sunny when he arrived this morning.
It was fine to drive you to his house just to wash up and then bring you home right? Youd done so thousands of times when you two were sweaty from staying at the beach for too long or when he picked you up from practice.
And fuck, right now, he sounded so selfish because he wouldn't even let you fight with him about it.
He was determined to take care of you because you didn't always know what was best for you, but he did.
Okay maybe he fucked up once, but the rest of the times he did know what was best for you. Because for him you were this everything, and Jungkook would do anything to protect you. Even if it was just from some stupid cold.
So he softly takes your hand in his and pulls you towards the exit, and when you don't object and just follow his lead, a slight smile tugs on his face. Because he had you again.
Even if it was only for tonight.
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tsireyasluvr · 4 months
Text
Sweetness
Lo’ak x Metkayina!reader
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Authors note: I meant to make this short and sweet but got way carried away😭 hope you guys enjoy this tho! <3 word count: 4k+
Summary: Neteyams death inevitably changed Lo’ak, making him colder and harsher around you than ever before. He shut everyone around him out, but you being the sweet and soft girl of the village made you want to help him get out of his slump. And you did help, just not in the way you might’ve expected.
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, porn with plot, angst, comfort, mentions of death, mentions of blood, substance use, alcohol, aged up Lo’ak, dom Lo’ak, mean Lo’ak, innocent reader, praises, brief oral, fingering, drunk sex, grinding, whining, virgin reader, first time (p in v)
Lo’ak struggled with Neteyams death, that couldn’t be more clear to anyone. The entire Sully family had faced their struggles surrounding the older boy’s death, but they had slowly made peace with it. Lo’ak however, wasn’t even close.
He never got over the feeling of it being his fault. He’s the one who pushed Neteyam to save Spider, the one who couldn’t just let things sit and chase after his own family instead. He wanted to save his friend, and in return, he got his brother killed. Lo’ak felt like even more of a failure than before, like he deserved to be treated like an outcast after having his beloved older brother killed.
He’s chosen to ignore his family and friends, ditching his siblings to get drunk and wallow in his sorrows at whatever private place he could find. Really he wasn’t picky, just as long as people would stop bothering him already. He was sick of the looks he’d get from his own family, the bits of pity accompanied by disgust from the rest of the Metkayina clan. 
Never you though. You cared for him, and truth be told you had a bit of a reputation around the clan for being the soft and kind, almost “innocent” cousin of Tsireya and Ao’nung. You were opposite to Lo’ak, never really one to step out of line or do anything that might anger the elders. you didn’t see much of a reason to. You’ve always had a soft spot for the younger Sully boy, mesmerized by how quick he adapted to the way of water, how much effort he put in despite his body not being built for it. He was passionate, rebellious by nature sure, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t found it charming. And as his learning went on, you enjoyed occasionally helping to teach him and his siblings, especially when you got to have a few private sessions with him. You were building a friendship, maybe even a small crush arising within you. All right before the tragic death on those rocks. 
You’d see Lo’ak wandering around the village at times, but only really to get his hands on food and whatever alcohol he could get, before he’d disappear again. Into the palm trees, to a separated beach, maybe a clearing near a cave. Those were just a few of your guesses. 
It bothered you. He was once a fiery, determined ball of energy, never taking anyone’s shit and trusting himself to do what felt right. Yet now, he was always alone and hiding. You couldn’t help but frown and worry. So one night, you see him again, walking through the sand in the general direction of what you assumed was the cove, a bottle clearly in hand. Feeling a little brave, you decided to follow him. 
Lo’ak had sat down on a smooth stone ledge overlooking the water. The sun had already set, making your tanhi glow along your soft skin while the moon lit up the scene around you. You timidly walked over to him, sitting down beside him but a little further from the edge with your legs crossed. Neteyam and Lo’ak were the only ones you’ve ever told about your fear of heights. It was something you always thought was a little embarrassing, and they forced the confession out of you when you refused to join them on a ride on Neteyams ikran. You can’t help but feel a little guilty passing that up now. 
Lo’aks gaze was cold, his face showing little emotion while he started out into the water. His eyes had been bloodshot, from the alcohol or lack of sleep you didn’t know, but it was a sight that made your stomach churn either way. You glanced down to his lap, seeing the now half-empty bottle sat between his legs. 
His thoughts were looming over his head, the alcohol doing little to settle the pit in his stomach. That night was all he could ever think about. The pained scream of his mother, the hurtful “you’ve done enough” his father had muttered, feeling Neteyams heart stop beating underneath his palms, his hands wet with his brothers blood-
“Lo’ak?” Your quiet, velvety soft voice broke the silence. You looked up at him with your big green eyes, your lip permanently a little pouty as the cold breeze blew through your curly hair. “Hm?” He grunted, not really looking in your directed as he took another swig from the bottle. You swallowed thickly, before asking your question. 
“Can I stay for a little?” Your voice sounds almost nervous, like he’d snap or bite at you if you pissed him off. He couldn’t help but feel frustrated at this, taking a deep breath to settle his emotions. He turned to look at you, his vivid amber eyes faded into something more dull. “Actually, y/n, I kind of came here to be alone.” 
You huffed out a breath, trying not to let the rejection get to you once he turns away again. Instead, you sit a little closer, letting your feet dangle off the edge as your heart starts racing in your chest. He cocked a brow at this, surprised that the village good girl didn’t listen for once. That, and the fact that he knew how scared you were of heights. Wether he’d want to admit it or not, Lo’ak had always noticed you tried to make everything better, even when it seemed impossible.
“People are worried, you know” You say quietly, your voice less shaky now that you managed to calm your heartbeat, trying to focus on him and the sound of the waves rather than how high you were up on these cliffs. “I don’t care, y/n” He scoffed, sipping on the bottle again, hardly feeling the liquid burn his throat anymore. 
You furrowed your brows at that, looking at the side of his face again as you spoke. “I know that’s not true, Lo’ak. You’ve never been careless. I understand you’re hurting, you have every right to, but-“ 
He cut you off with a scowl, turning his head towards you “Oh, do i? Because according to my father, I’m the one who got us all into this mess. You say everyone is worried, but who exactly is everyone, y/n? Because it sure as hell isn’t my family, and your clan has hated me from the fucking start.” He practically snarled, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at you.
You looked at him helplessly, feeling yet another tinge of anxiety from his yelling, but knowing deep down it wasn’t meant to be directed at you. Lo’ak stood from his spot, rubbing his face with his hand, and that’s when you smell the wave of alcohol coming from his form. 
“Just.. just go away, y/n. I really don’t need this right now” He leaned against the cliff wall, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he waited for you to get up and go. 
You stood, trying to fight back the tears welling in your eyes. Truth be told, you weren’t really used to having anyone yell at you. You’ve never stepped out of line or disobeyed orders, no one’s ever had a reason to try and punish or intimidate you. You wondered if it may have you come across as weak, or fragile. Two things that you very much were not, regardless of how soft you may be. 
“Lo’ak, please” You say, trying to stand your ground. “Please just let me stay. I won’t- I won’t try to force you to talk about it anymore, I promise. I’m just worried about you” You pleaded, the breeze becoming more harsh as you felt shivers go up your arms.
He clenched his jaw, something inside him stopping himself from believing that you had good intentions. “why?” He uncrossed his arms, scoffing as he stood up straight in front of you. “Why are you so fucking worried, y/n?” His voice sounded almost taunting, and you couldn’t figure out why.
“Because you’re never around the village anymore. You’re grieving, and I think-“ He cut you off once again.
“What? That you can fix me? Take me on a special project for your healer training maybe? You realize some herbs and spices can’t make this all go away, right? Sorry I can’t help you crawl further up Ronals ass with your little strive for perfection, y/n, but it just so looks like I’m a problem this clan can’t shake” He growls, every word feeling almost like a dagger to your heart. 
“You’re not a problem, Lo’ak” You say gently, trying to keep the calm attitude for him. “I don’t see you as one, I never have. I see so much greatness in you-“ 
“Save the fucking speech, y/n-“
“Will you just let me talk!” 
“…”
You had snapped, tears freely falling down your cheeks now. “Stop treating me like I don’t have feelings! Or like- like you don’t know me! We were friends before all this, you know how much I cared for you, how much i still care for you. It doesn’t matter if every single person in this clan hated you, I care and I worry! And it sucks to see you like this, constant bottle in your hand and the energy and joy completely sucked out of you. It sucks that you walk by me like I don’t matter, that you never talk to me anymore and that you’re always on something. I can’t handle it, and it breaks my heart, so excuse me if I come here to check on you because Im worried!”  
He swallowed hard, taking aback by your outburst but trying not to show it. He felt the guilt slowly creep up his skin, watching your shoulders shake with sobs as you let out a much quieter “I worry”, repeating yourself so helplessly. Lo’aks eyes flicked away for a moment before returning to yours. “You shouldn’t” He muttered out, his voice rough as he reached out a hand to wipe the tears from your cheeks.
“I can’t help it” You whisper, sniffling as your lip quivered, your eyes now glossy as you looked up at him. His hand on your cheek made you feel the tiniest spark of comfort. He smiled a little at that, the first almost warm expression you’ve seen on his face in weeks if not months. “Hm, I guess you can’t.”
Lo’ak cupped your face with his free hand, the other still holding the bottle you so desperately wanted to grab and throw over the cliff. He brushed his thumb softly against your cheek, looking into your teary eyes as his heart beat faster. “If you keep getting involved with me like this, you’re going to get hurt, y/n. I think I might have a bit of curse on me” He tried to joke, but you saw past the slight smile.
“Then we’ll let that be my lesson” you say sternly, reaching a delicate hand to hold onto his wrist as you stayed close to him. “Alright, fine. You win, princess” He sighed, before letting go of you and moving back down to where he was sitting, looking back at you as an unspoken invitation to join him. 
you padded over to where he was, shivering slightly as the night wore on, the stone cold against your skin. His eyes were on you, seeing the shiver on your skin from the cold as you tugged a little on the sheer sleeves from the woven top you wore. 
“You cold?” He asked, observing your shivering form. You looked at him, shrugging a little, trying not to seem needy or like you were disturbing the newfound peace. He smirked a little, offering you the nearly empty bottle. 
You made a face at that. “No thanks. I’m not much for drinking” you look back down at your lap, fiddling with the little pearls hanging from your loincloth. 
“Have you ever tried it?” He asked, not necessarily pushing, but definitely holding a teasing tone over you. You shook your head no.
He leaned back, snickering a little bit as he closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze on his flushed skin. “Fuck..” He muttered under his breath, opening his eyes to quickly look at you before focusing back on the water beneath them.
“what?” you ask, furrowing your brows in slight confusion. “you’re just so fucking innocent. Like, shielded or something” He smirked, shaking his head slightly. You scoffed a little at that, your lips pouty again. “what, so now i’m not interesting because I haven’t had any messed up traumatic stories?” you crossed your arms as you looked at him. 
“Never said that” He replied, still not looking at you. “Then what are you trying to imply with that?” He licked his teeth before looking at you with another smirk, his fangs momentarily on display. “You’re too trusting. Always looking out for everyone else’s well-being before your own. You walk around like some sort of Angel, y/n.” He used a human term, something he did often. You knew one of the few things he bonded over with his dad was studying the language. 
“You say that like it’s an insult” You quip back, rubbing your arms for warmth. “Because it is.” He replied, eyes scanning over you. “You’re so naive sometimes that it hurts just looking at. Letting people walk all over you. You deserve better than everything that’s been surrounding us.” 
You tried not to let his words bother you, but he really could be so mean sometimes, wether it was intentional or not. Your eyes drift down to the bottle in his lap, feeling a sudden impulse within you as you reach out your hand for it. “give me that” 
“what?” he raised a brow, looking at you with a mix of surprise and amusement. “you want a drink?” 
“Yes, I do. Now are you gonna share or am I too innocent for even a sip?” you say, your look unwavering. 
“Well then” He chuckled, passing the bottle over to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Go on then. Take a sip.”
You continued holding eye contact with him as you bring the cold bottle to your plump, pink lips, taking a swig before grimacing at the taste, a drop trickling down your chin. “Eywa” you muttered under your breath, the liquid leaving a terrible burn down your throat.
“Fuck, you’re cute” He said, reaching out to wipe off the droplet and licking it off his thumb. A small smile played on his lips. “don’t ever get used to that shit”
“What? It’s totally fine! I hardly even tasted it” You try to assure, taking another sip before practically gagging as the liquid hit your tongue
“yeah, you’re a fucking liar” He laughed softly, reaching out to take the bottle back from you. “we should’ve gotten you something nicer as a first taste. I would’ve mixed it up with that coconut water shit you like” He screwed the lid back on after finishing off the last bit of the bottle. 
“you know, you swear a lot” you say, your voice a little more wavered now with the alcohol. He turned away from you, trying not to break into a grin at the slight slurring of your voice. “And alcohol is gross. I stand by what I said earlier” you say, crossing your arms as if to prove a point.
“Good” He replied, smiling at you as he turned his body more to face you, sitting a little closer as he felt the alcohol in his system too, allowing him to feel more comfortable and less of the constant dread and anxiety in his stomach. “Means you’re not used to it.”
“Course I’m not used to it! You said it yourself I’m all naive and innocent” you say in a mocking tone, rolling your eyes at that. He broke into another snicker at that. “you’re so fucking cute when you’re drunk” He whispered, chuckling softly as he leaned in closer to you, his breath fanning across your cheek. “You know, Ive always kinda wanted to see you like this”
You giggle a little, your cheeks flushing from both the alcohol and his comment. “what? drunk?” You ask, lazily tilting your head to look straight at him, your curls becoming messier from the breeze, a few stray pieces falling over your eyes. “Yeah” He laughed, brushing a lock of hair away from your blushing cheek. “mm sounds like you might have a bit of a corruption kink, Lo” you teased, surprising both of you with your unusually bold words.
“Maybe you’re not so wrong about that” He confessed, half joking before continuing “I guess I have a bit of a thing for girls like you. All sweet and gentle. Or more like.. just you” his face has gone a little more serious, looking over your features with an almost predatory gaze.
“and here I thought you were asking me to stay away” you lightly tease, acting like his words from earlier didn’t have an effect on you. “I did, and I meant it. You’re too good for me” He leaned down, his lips almost hovering above yours. “But it’s hard to stay true to that, when you’re sat all cute and flustered ‘cause of me”
Your breath hitches in your throat at the sudden close proximity, leaning in closer to him as you look up at him with that same wide-eyed look that drove him crazy, your lips plump and slightly wet from the alcohol still. “i’m tired of you pushing me away because you think it’s the right thing to do, Lo’ak. S’annoying” you drunkenly mumble, trying to keep yourself from getting too dizzy.
“Well, fuck.” He cursed under his breath, his eyes trailing down to your lips as he gave into the temptation. “maybe it’s time I stop pushing you away then” he whispered, before leaning down to capture your lips in a soft, gentle kiss. You smile against his lips, feeling your chest bubble with excitement as your dainty fingertips come to rest on his chest. 
You pulled back a little, a smile on your face as you leaned your forehead against his. “Am i making you feel better?” you ask, prompting him to let out a laugh. “that’s what you’re thinking about?” He teased, leaning in to give you another quick peck. “yeah, sweetness, you’re making me feel better” He murmured, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, his other hand burying itself in your curls as he deepened the kiss.
“you taste so god damn sweet, y/n” he groaned, his tongue licking its way into your mouth, practically moaning at the flavour of your lips. You whimpered at his words, desperately trying to keep up with him, shifting til you’re practically in his lap. 
Reluctantly, he pulls away and breaks the kiss, gazing down at you with pure lust and adoration in his golden eyes. “You ever let anyone touch you?” he breathed out, his hand holding you close by the back of your neck, your palms still resting on his chest for stability as you shook your head no. “Good” He grinned, his fangs on display as he reached up your back to untie the strings holding your top together.
As he revealed more of your skin, his touch became more possessive and hungry. “i’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” he growled against your skin, dipping his head down to lick and suck at your neck, tilting your jaw back with his hand to have better access. “you believe me?” 
“yes, Lo’ak” you breathed out, your skin feeling hot as you trailed a hand to fist his braided hair. “That’s my girl” he mumbled, his hand moving up to cup your breast, squeezing roughly at the flesh as you let out a whimper. “So fuckin perfect for me” 
You moaned softly at the praises, enjoying the feel of his hands on your body as you cup his face and bring his lips back up to yours, desperate to taste him again. He shoved his tongue in your mouth, his hand creeping down your back before untying the strings holding your loincloth together. “lift your hips for me, mama” he murmured against your lips, instantly taking it off and flinging it away once you did. He slowly slid his hand up your thigh, teasingly running his fingers through your folds before letting out a groan. “Eywa, you’re so wet for me”
you gasp softly at the feel of his fingers, leaning your forehead against his as he probed at your opening, before shoving two fingers in, drawing out a yelp from you. “Lo’ak!” you squeal, closing your eyes in pleasure. “fuck, do that again, sweet girl” he groaned, plunging his fingers in and out of you, desperate to hear more of your pretty noises.
you whined and clawed at his shoulders, not used to the feeling of someone else touching you there, soaking it all in as your walls fluttered against his digits. he curled his fingers inside you, watching you nearly unravel in front of him before adding his thumb to rub quick circles into your clit. “oh! Lo’ak! L-Lo! f-fuck!” he smirked as you cursed, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He thrusted his fingers deeper, pushing faster, seeking out your sweet spot before massaging it with every thrust. You whimpered when you felt his fingertips grazing the spongy spot inside you. 
 “that’s it mama. gonna cum for me?” He sucked a bruise in your neck, his fangs grazing the skin as he resisted the urge to properly mark you here and now. 
“y-yes! mhm!” You moaned, your pussy tightening around his fingers before you let go, crying out his name as you hide your face in his neck.
He slowly pulled his fingers out, shushing your whimpers before flipping you over, your bodies still dangerously close to the ledge, which suddenly just added to thrill of it for you. His breath was heavy as he leaned back down to kiss you, his arm resting on the ground beside your face, almost shielding you in while his other makes quick work to untie his cloth and throw is aside. You looked at him with a dazed expression, taking the time to admire his face and features, feeling your heart skip a beat when his eyes met yours again. 
He smiled down at you, brushing his thumb over your lip sweetly, but it seemed like you had other ideas. Your pink tongue darted out to lick the digit and take it in your mouth, making his dick instantly harder, if that was even possible. He groaned at the feeling, beginning to grind his hips against yours, his cock freely gliding through your folds. “Fuck, mama, you’re making it hard to think straight” he cursed, looking down at your wet pussy dripping slick all over him. 
“Then don’t” You whined, squirming slightly beneath him from the teasing, feeling your arousal grow as you looked up at him with a pleading expression. “Lo’ak, please.” You whispered, bringing your hands up to wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed sweet kisses along his face, a contrast to the sinful acts you were doing. 
Taking your pleas as a sign of consent, he lined himself up with your entrance, pushing in slowly as he let out a growl at your tightness. “Oh, fuck!” He groaned, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. “fuck mama, you’re so tight. This pussy was made f’me” He pushed himself all the way in, lifting his head back up to look at your face, a hand reaching up to cup your cheek. you had a look of pure bliss on your face, your eyes screwed shut as you adjust to his size, unintentionally holding your breath.
“breathe for me, baby. breathe” He whispered, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek before he began to slowly rock his hips into yours. “Lo’ak” you whimpered, clawing at his shoulders. “I know. S’okay, i’ve got you.” he groaned, his voice low, making you feel more butterflies in your stomach as you listened to every word he spoke. “feels so good” you whine out, panting against his lips. He smiled at you, kissing you hotly before pulling away again, looking down to where you were connected.
He couldn’t help but moan at the sight, speeding up his thrusts as he rutted against you, watching your pussy clamp down on him. “Eywa, you’re such a sight” he grunted, looking up at your face as he pushed his cock deeper inside of you, watching your jaw drop out of pleasure. “gonna keep the mental image of you like this forever, princess. all fucked out like this, all ‘cause of me” He dipped his head back down to your neck, trailing kisses down your collarbones and lower, squeezing your breast with his hand while beginning to lap at it with his tongue.
you couldn’t respond, hardly thinking as he fucked every thought out of you, your back arching off the ground as you whined and moaned, clinging to him as he pounded into your pussy. His hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements as he took clear control. “Taking it so well for me, sweet girl” 
He angled his hips in a way to hit your sweet spot again, letting go of your nipple with a pop as he moved to the other one, leaving light bite marks along it.
“L-Lo’ak, m’close” you whimper, your eyes still screwed shut as you feel his tongue licking and tracing at your breasts, your chest covered in bite marks. “yeah? let me feel it. cum f’me, cum all over me. be a good girl” he muttered the filth against your skin, trailing his tongue back up to your neck, his fangs grazing over it again as he planned out the spot to mark you. “wanna feel you shake against me, y/n. all around my dick. you won’t let me down, yeah?” He whispered in your ear, thrusting faster as he felt his abdomen tighten, knowing he was close but holding back til he got you there first.
“mm y-yes, yes Lo” you breathed out, whining and gasping as you felt your thighs shake, your pussy tightening around him before you reached your high, tightening your legs around his waist “ohhh fuuuuck!” you cry out, not caring about how loud you were being as he fucked you through it.
“shit! fuck, mama, where do you want it?” he strained, biting his bottom lip to try and hold back as his hips sputtered. you looked up at him, your lips swollen from his kisses and face slightly dewy as you open your mouth, indicating it for him. “Eywa, help me” he muttered, groaning at the implication as he traced your perfect lips with his finger before pressing a rough kiss to them. 
Once he was on the verge of climax, he quickly pulled out, cupping your face with a shaky hand as you sat up on your knees for him. He aligned his dick to rest on your lips as he pumped his cock, before throwing his head back and cumming in your mouth with a groan. His hand brushed through your hair, looking down at you before pulling his hips away from you and kneeling down with you, his free hand still cupping your cheek. He wiped the little dribble of his cum off your lip, smiling at you adoringly, whispering “so fucking pretty” before leaning in to kiss you again. 
you hum contently, smiling once he pulls away. you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, making him let out a laugh at your sweetness even after doing something so filthy. “c’mere” he murmurs, leaning back against the cliff wall as he raises his arm for you. you crawl over, laying down on his chest and nuzzling into him with your face in his neck, closing your eyes as you listen to the sound of the waves below you. 
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Note
Hi, I didn’t see a what not to request thing so ignore this if your not comfortable writing death - but can I request Coriolanus Snow x reader who is a tribute in the games but dies and there’s nothing he can do about it. Just pure angst.
The Fall Of Snow
Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader
Summary: She was just supposed to be a pawn in his games, a way to get the Plinth Prize. He wasn't supposed to care. She was just a tribute, after all.
Warning/s: angst, death, kind-of-psycho Snow, Snow in love, crying, probably some spelling and/or grammar mistakes
Author's note: So Snow's actions and behavior may be a little out of his character here, but that is because I made him helplessly in love with reader. I hope this is okay. Enjoy!
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The red chair where he sat now seemed to uncomfortable to sit in.
Coriolanus' already strong grip on the armrests of the chair somehow just seemed to tighten, he felt certain that he will probably brake the wood out of which the chair is made of. He felt cold sweat dripping down his forehead as he felt the uncomfortable feeling of shivers going down his spine.
His breathing became raspy, his academy's red uniform somehow became tighter around his neck. He felt like he was grasping the last strings of air in the room crowded with the other mentors, he felt like he was breathing just for the hell of it.
His chest started to squeeze so much it started to hurt him.
He couldn't get the air to tear through to his lungs, and for the first time in a long time Coriolanus' vision became blurry with tears.
He knew that she would be dead either way. She was from District 12 for God's sake! She was the weakest target. Her lack of throat-slicing, bloodthirsty, violent nature was going to be her downfall the moment she stepped into that arena.
She was quite small, weak even, but not like that was surprising to him. She came from the loser District. She was somehow a person who wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone kill someone. Even if it was a stranger.
He knew all of this, therefore he didn't have any reason to be surprised.
Yet it felt like he was going to choke on the uncomfortable, unbearable even, feeling of something in his throat as he felt cameras moving onto his face to capture the moment where a tribute lost a mentor. Or rather mentor losing their tribute. But this wasn't like the times before, with the other mentors, with his classmates, that left the room before him.
He knew that this is different. He felt it.
Coriolanus Snow was aware that he was supposed to have the control of his emotions like many times before.
Right now, what he was supposed to do is what was expected of him to do. Look into the camera and wave it off. Play it off as if he was just happy to be here. To play a modest, charming, bright and above all young Capitol citizen and to lean over toward Lucky Flickerman's microphone, that was already showed into his face, and to answer the questions with a charming smile pressed onto his face.
Yet he couldn't even look away from the screen on the wa in the middle of the room, let alone answer Lucky Flickerman's questions like many before him.
He watched her dead body on the floor in the middle of the arena with a shaky breath that left his lips without his permission.
Lucky Flickerman's questions rang next to his ear.
It seems like he was repeatedly asking him something yet Coriolanus somehow never heard him. Every noise in the room came into his ears as a form of beeping.
His vision blurry even tho he tried to stop it.
The only noise that seemed to constantly increase its volume is his ragged breathing.
Coriolanus watched as another tribute grabbed her body by the ankles as he started to drag her over to the pile of bodies that belonged to other deceased tributes.
Coriolanus watched her laid out hand dragging itself after her, her hair everywhere as one single tear slid down her eyes that were still open.
Haunting him.
Why didn't he do more? What didn't he save her? Why didn't she win? She should have won...
She should have won.
Coriolanus Snow didn't know how it happened and why was it happening.
He suddenly stood up, his hand gripping something in the pocket of his uniform, and without even spearing one glance towards Lucky Flickerman, Clemensia who tried to grab his shoulder before he did something stupid.
He didn't spare a glance at anyone for that matter as his legs carried him away from his chair, away from the room, away from the look of her dead body.
He walked out of the room as fast as he could, trying not to look at any cameras.
He pulled the handkerchief that she used before she was violently thrown into the games to fight for her own life.
It was still wet from her tears.
He felt his own tear dropping onto the handkerchief, mixing with her tears. The tears of his now forever lost tribute.
Coriolanus Snow promised something to himself that day.
When he gets married one day, he will do it out of profit, out of perhaps mutual interest, not out of love.
Never out of love.
Love he had for his tribute brought him here. It brought him this tight feeling in his chest that, no matter what happens or what he does, he can't get rid of.
As he wiped one lost tear with her (his) handkerchief, he promised himself to never loose control ever again.
Yet he knew one thing. Those eyes, hair and smile would haunt him forever, as long as he was alive, but he will gladly remember it. The last thing, along with the handkerchief, he had left of her. His love, his tribute, that died in the arena.
->
->
->
TAGLIST:
@hellonheels-x @especiallythewomenandthechildren @prettyinsatiable @caroline-books @runningfrom2am @10ava01 @thecrowdedstreetin1944
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aft3rhrs · 5 months
Text
— heaven ღ
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: romance
warnings: yandere, allusions to kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, mentions of reader getting locked up, a tiny (👌) bit of angst, possessiveness, corruption kink, rough sex, choking, praise, humiliation, dirty talk, hair pulling, implied big!dick jk 💁‍♀️, he's a simp, creampie, some aftercare & lots of kisses, still messed up tho lmao I'm sorry <3
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It never seemed heaven would be so dark. A room draped in shadows, the door carefully locked. Not even a glint of moonlight broke through the drawn curtains; complete isolation from the world down below.
Even if Jungkook turned on the lights, you wouldn't have been able to see much; not with your face pressed into the mattress rocking beneath your knees. The headboard banged against the wall rhythmically, the sound mingling with each slap of his balls against you, thrusts deep and hard, stretching you out to your limits.
You could feel his chest pressing down onto your back, skin warm and sweaty. His hand remained on your head, lips glued to your ear. The sounds spilling out of them made your head spin, drool seeping into the sheets by your open mouth.
"Always such a good girl for me," he whispered, hot and low. His fingers tangled in your hair, giving it a tender pull. "Fuck me back." His free hand squeezed your hip, encouraging you to move. "Come on, baby. Fuck me back."
Your pussy clenched, muffled whines growing louder. Mindlessly, your hips moved with Jungkook's guidance, numb to anything but the searing pleasure of his cock spearing through you.
"Yeah— fuuck—" the soft groans turned deeper, your little hole soaked and so fucking desperate; just the way he liked it. Just as desperate for him as he was for you.
He grit his teeth, trying to hold a little longer, abdomen tensing against you.
"I love you," he gasped, "tell me what you want, baby. I'll give you anything you want."
A hiss escaped him when he felt you tighten again, signaling that you knew exactly what he meant, and your pretty, little head was no less depraved than his own. That only spurred him on, made his hips snap against your ass faster, sloppier, sweat shining on his temple.
He wasn't expecting you to be coherent and provide an answer to his question; it was like he just wanted to establish dominance, mark his claim, driven by the sadistic instincts that flickered to life in him in the raw dark, like stars. Equally charming and destructive.
"Gonna," he breathed, the slaps of skin against skin harsh and relentless, "gonna come on my cock, you pathetic whore? You're so good for me. You know you're mine, only mine, and this little pussy knows it too. Always so fucking wet for me."
It seemed more like taunting than a simple reminder; he was trying to get under your skin. As if he didn't already make a home within your ribcage. As if he hasn't infested your bloodstream the first time he had kissed you. The filthy words messed with your mind, made your hole pulse around him harder with each thrust.
"Mm, fuck, fuck, ah, why so quiet tonight?" He moaned into your ear, gently slipping his hand around your neck. He gave it a firm squeeze, immediately getting one back on his cock, throbbing and slippery as it pounded into you. "Come all over me, kitten, don't hold back."
You whimpered, your thighs shaking under his, teeth biting into your lower lip, hard. Didn't he fuck your brains out in the last three months? There should have been no thoughts left there at all, and yet something seemed to be wrong, like some semblance of doubt was keeping you hostage tonight. Didn't he do a good job getting rid of that? Jaw tensing, he choked you harder, snapping his hips forward faster.
"I said be a good girl and come for me," he gritted.
He was desperately close himself, his cock hot and swollen, spurting precum as it rubbed against your walls.
"Fucking come for me," Jungkook groaned. "This was supposed to be a celebration. Stop holding back. Do you want me to bring you back down to the fucking basement?"
You gasped, but he could barely hear it over his ragged breathing; how tightly his veiny hand enveloped your frail neck didn't help. However, he could still feel you, especially on his sensitive cock.
"Oh... oh, fuck, are you—"
You quivered around it, so tight his movements stuttered, white spots dancing around his vision at the sensation.
"Did you just come? You want me to keep you like a fucking pet, baby? Oh god, yeah—"
A burst of warmth spilled inside you, your skin tingling and head fuzzy with the limited oxygen his grip on you provided. You shuddered under him, moaning as he fucked his cum deep into your abused cunt. You could feel him all the way in your stomach, his groans loud as kept twitching inside you. Oh, he liked this; how much he corrupted you, how hard you came at the thought of him owning you. He liked it, because he came hard as well, hand loosening around your throat as his hips stilled, last, few spurts of hot seed shooting into you.
You tried to catch your breath, soft kisses trailed along your shoulder slowly bringing you back down from your high. You felt warm, satiated, full; you felt Jungkook's lips quirking in a satisfied smile against your skin, too, his cheek resting on your neck.
"Good girl," he whispered. "So good. I love you."
"I love you," you sighed, eyes slipping shut.
Jungkook hummed.
"Finally got your voice back?" He brushed your hair to the side, exposing more of your skin, his lips pressing into your cheek. "Should I be concerned, baby? Do you want me to stay a little longer?"
You shook your head. Any other time, Jungkook would have cleaned you up, especially before going anywhere. Tonight, though, he wanted you just like this. Naked, in his bed, with his cum dripping out of you while you drifted off. You didn't seem to mind either, heartbeat and breathing steadying as he started getting dressed.
You were almost asleep by the time he crouched down by the bed, the touch of his lips on yours making you stir.
"You know this is just for show, right?"
His question was soft, eyebrows furrowed. No matter how strong, it looked like not even Jungkook could escape some monsters — something like doubt, something like fear. Everything only felt amplified when it came to you.
"Yeah," you whispered. "Promise."
Perhaps three months ago his words would have hurt; but there was no wound anymore, only scars, and his gentle fingers ghosting over them.
Your soft reply smoothed out the frantic, worried fabrics of his soul, the image of you lying there, in his room, glowing; surrounded by his scent and his sheets, so domestic. It was everything he ever needed. His sacred place.
He sighed, contented, pressing the next kiss onto your forehead.
"Good. Mm, then rest. Just stay here and look pretty, my love. I'll collect your ransom and be right back."
He brushed his knuckles along your flushed cheek, dark, hooded eyes boring into yours.
"Can I have another kiss for good luck?"
A pleased hum left him when you leaned in, lips pouty and swollen, ready to be kissed more and more, and how could he ever not want to do just that?
He held your face with an inked hand, and a black mask in the other.
Heaven was a pricey thing to uphold; the church would know. And not that Jungkook didn't already have enough to spoil you, but all angels were painted in gold, weren't they?
"Night, baby," he murmured lovingly.
His voice never led you astray, lulling you to sleep, helping you land safely in the arms of the mellow abyss behind your eyelids. He kissed both.
"Gonna be back real soon."
You didn't get to hear that promise, but he didn't mind. In a few hours, he'll be holding you in his arms. All angels were shimmering gold, to match the golden gates; his angel deserved the same.
In the end, there was nothing wrong with a man of faith collecting donations for the purposes of worship. Right?
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THE EXPERIENCE PROJECT | EP. 7 IN SEVENTH HEAVEN
— contains adult content, minors do not interact 🔞 —
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“You’re mine from now on.”
“But I’ve always been,” you immediately reply and the two of you chuckle.
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[ abstract ]: Hyunjin—your long time crush—finally wants to ask you out. One small issue: you’re absolutely inexperienced regarding that matter. Going on dates and, yes, also everything physical. Gladly, Minho—your long time enemy who is part of your friend group—is there to help, teaching you all you need to know. Going on dates and, yes, also everything physical. All while he dearly hopes you won’t find out about the crush he has had on you for years.
[ general ]: minho + fem reader, [ hyunjin + fem reader ], enemies → lovers, college au, smut + angst + fluff, experienced minho, virgin reader, sunshine x grumpy, he falls first but she falls harder, please refer to series m.list for more info
[ warning ]: explicit sexual scenes [ softdom minho, corruption kink, marking m receiving, oral f receiving, loss of virginity, protected piv, praise, slight possessiveness ], consumption of alcohol
[ words ]: 6.8K
[ note ]: I am so sad that this is the last part... I hope you will like it tho just as much as the last one. Thank you again for everything during this past month. I love you guys so much, seriously. I've never expected this, especially since I haven't been here for too long. I once again sound like a broken record but thank you and lots of love to you. Take care, sleep and eat well, be kind to yourselves and enjoy this last chapter (for now)!! 🌸
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“I’m in love with Lee Minho.”
Hyunjin looks at you as if you just told him the world is upside down. You let out another laugh, fully grasping your destiny. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. You wonder what Y/N from a few weeks ago would tell you. Would she be surprised? Now in hindsight, you doubt it. Somehow, you’ve always known subconsciously.
“You’re… you’re in love with Minho?” Hyunjin asks, his eyes filled with tears and you watch him zone out a little. He gulps, trying to drag his gaze away from you.
“I am,” you reply because you mean it. You’re not like Hyunjin. You don’t lead people on like that.
He takes a deep breath and for a second you fear he’s gonna say something toxic again. But when he speaks, his voice is oddly calm, “It’s… it’s alright. I mean, I can’t say anything against it. I just hope he will make you happy.”
You scoff, “Do you really mean that?”
“I do,” he insists. “Besides all the shit I did you both are still my friends and I only want whatever’s best for you, you know?”
You have a hard time believing him. It’s not just that he dated other people, it’s who he asked to go on a date with.
“Why did you ask out his ex then? And his sister? Why have you been targeting him? Have you known?”
“Known what?”
“That Minho and I…”
“Right,” Hyunjin says, his jaw clenching. “What exactly are you? Has this been going on since I went to Paris?”
“No. Only for a week. But I think deep down I’ve always had feelings for him,” you confess,
Hyunjin’s gaze changes. “You told me you were in love with me, Y/N.”
“Because I was. But then you disappeared,” you remind him.
“I know.” His voice is smaller now but clear. You won’t let him get under your skin.
“You broke my heart, Hyune. With that decision to confess to me the night before you would be gone for half a year. I couldn’t fall asleep without Felix checking in every hour and without Jisung buying all the ice cream our grocery sells,” you tell him and just when your lungs start gasping for oxygen, you start to feel the tears pricking on your lower lash line.
“I’m sorry.”
This stupid word is all that makes it past his lips. But apologies don’t really matter if the actions don’t match. You don’t expect Hyunjin to treat you like the sun that all planets of the orbit are circling around, sure, but since he’s been back from Paris, he hasn’t really done much to show you that you’re more than friend. Except for a mediocre kiss.
“That’s all you say. Just tell me why you thought that was good timing,” you say to him, dearly wanting to know. There must be a reason why he decided to tell you that night and not once he’s back. Was he afraid you could get together with someone else in the meantime? If this was his plan, he succeeded quite well. Until last weekend when you decided to show up at Minho’s apartment.
“I… I didn’t want him to take away the girl that I love from me again,” he says.
There you’ve got it.
However, a small word catches your attention.
“Again?”
“Y-Yeah,” he stutters.
“What do you mean?”
Your confused to say the last. What on earth is he hinting at?
“Areum,” he says, “I used to have a crush on her a couple of years ago. Minho knew and he asked her out.”
“Are you lying?”
“With what intention or purpose, Y/N?”
“Okay,” you give in. “What happened back then?”
“Similar situation,” he begins explaining. “We both had a crush on her. She used to be one of the volunteers for our dance show, you know the students that help prepare the stage and all. We’ve gotten along until Minho and her started talking. Of course he could win her heart before I had a chance. That’s also why I asked her out again after I accidentally looked at Felix’s phone screen the other day when you texted him something about Minho not having time to meet with you and if your roommate and you wanted to have a movie night instead. I shouldn’t have. It wasn’t on purpose.”
“So, you got jealous?”
“I was out with friends from our dance club, some that I met in Paris that go to our college in Seoul as well. I’m not proud of it and I know it wasn’t right. I just want you to know the truth. You don’t have to understand it or even have pity for me,” he adds.
You for sure don’t have pity for him. Although it does make sense now. At least from Hyunjin’s perspective.
“Thank you for telling me,” you say. “Did Minho know you had a crush on Areum at that time?”
Why are you even asking? Would this change things for you? Would this make you see Minho in a different light? It would be a terrible situation, to say the least.
“Yeah.” Your heart sinks. “But I was also pretty insecure back then so I told him it’s fine. He offered to not ask her out but I was dumb enough to tell him he should.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Not Minho’s fault then. Still terrible.
“But… it isn’t Minho’s fault if you weren’t able to communicate your needs,” you remind Hyunjin.
“I know! I’m also not blaming him. That’s all my fault, I know.”
Hyunjin knows more but he won’t tell you. He is dying to share with you how Jisung accidentally slipped that Minho has a crush on you and that this was what broke the camel’s back. It felt like a whole deja-vu. He likes a girl—you—and you’d been in some more-than-friends stage for some time at that point. You remember it, too. It started a few months before his exchange semester. Every Thursday after practice, Hyunjin would pick you up and do an activity with you. He had never called it a date but you always felt as if they were one. The two of you were flirting constantly—he didn’t even see other women around this time.
So, what changed now?
Well, a lot. He’s become another person while being overseas for six months. Hyunjin can’t deny that. But he’s also got anxious and a bit immature, ironically, which caused him to behave this way this past week.
He watches the grape shaped earrings dangle back and forth, before his gaze drops to the twin-like pendant around your neck. Perhaps it was never meant to be. He wonders if you should have stayed friends after all.
“Okay. Thank you for being honest, Hyune,” you tell him.
You know it’s time to go now. Although he’s looking at you with those puppy-like eyes that are filled with tears. But nothing is keeping you here anymore. You’ve never belonged in Hyunjin’s arms.
“Do you want me to drive you home?”
You shake your head no, “It’s alright. I think Felix, Jisung and I will just take the subway.”
“Text me when you’re back home, yeah?”
“I will,” you promise, before getting up from his bed. Long strides bring you to the exit of his room, but his voice makes you turn around once more.
“Hey, Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m sorry for how I treated you. I’ve never deserved you in the first place. But thank you for everything,” he says and you know that he means it.
You offer him a smile. “I’ll text you.”
It’s easier than expected—Jisung and Felix aren’t as drunk as you expect them to be. However, when they start bombarding you with questions on the subway, you put your headphones on your ears and pretend to sleep. You really have no energy or interest in discussing things with your roommates now, especially when the temporary one of them doesn’t know about the contract you had with Minho that isn’t valid anymore.
You take your time getting ready for bed, before you snuggle under the covers with a heavy feeling inside your chest. As soon as possible, you need to speak to Minho. You know it won’t be easy at all but you’ve got some ideas. Hopefully, Felix will help you prepare everything so you can conquer the heart of the man you love like no one else before.
You decide to charge your phone, before you send a quick message to Hyunjin, not wanting him to worry—you know how dramatic he gets—before you place the device aside, screen facing the nightstand table.
[ You ]: We made it back home. Thank you for the talk, Hyune 🙂
You’re already dozing off into a deep slumber, when he texts you back.
[ Hyunjin ]: Get some rest and sleep well. Thank you for listening to me. 
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The matcha latte tastes good but caffeine probably wasn’t the greatest idea when you’re already anxious and pushing away the topic you’ve been trying to bring up in your conversation with Areum for fifteen minutes now. In order to properly confess to Minho, you need to tell your friend—his ex girlfriend—about it first. The feelings you have for him and perhaps that you’ve been doing stuff behind her back.
But Areum is the faster one and you should have been able to tell by the nervous look on her face that she’s been trying to speak up about something that’s on her mind too. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner, Y/N.”
You take a sip from your beverage, “Of what?”
“Hyunjin and I,” she says and for a second your heart stops. Did they sleep together, perhaps? Would it even matter anymore? “I didn’t know you were dating him and all, seriously. But I didn’t want you to think badly of me for making out with him… that’s all that happened. But still, I should have told you who I saw at the party sooner.”
Okay. Just making out, as it seems.
However, something else is there that you notice. Why would she believe that you would think lowly of her for kissing Hyunjin when you did the same?
“Do you think badly of me for dating Hyunjin?”
“God, no! You’re too good for him for sure but I would never judge you,” she immediately says.
“But you thought I’d judge you?”
“Some girls have… have said mean things about me, called me easy in the past and since then I’ve become a bit careful with sharing who I am seeing although Hyunjin and I are nothing. I was afraid you would slut shame me. It has nothing to do with you, I just have a hard time trusting people because of previous friendships,” she adds.
It breaks your heart hearing this. No one deserves such things.
“I’m sorry, Areum. But I would never judge you. I know what it’s like, too,” you tell her.
“To be slut shamed?”
“Well, quite the opposite,” you say with an awkward giggle. “I’m a virgin.” She doesn’t react at all. She treats this confession like the most normal thing in the world. “I’ve received mean comments too. It’s not the same, I know, but I feel for you.”
“That’s awful,” she replies, meaning it. “Why would anyone say anything mean to you? You’re literally the kindest.”
“Please, you’re making me flustered,” you brush her off.
“But I mean it! I know we haven’t known each other for that long but it doesn’t happen very often to me that I vibe with someone from the start. That’s why I’ve been so clingy and annoyingly kind to you because I just knew that you were such a great person. You’re so sweet and honest and–“
You chuckle. “Areum. Wait.”
“Too much? I’m sorry. God, it really shows that I don’t have that many friends, right?”
“No, it’s not that. I like you, too. I’m glad to have you as my friend. But I haven’t been entirely honest with you,” you admit.
“Oh. Okay. Uhm, do you wanna tell me? Something with Hyunjin?”
You shake your head no, “It’s about Minho.”
She gulps, “What’s with him?”
“I… I’m not into Hyunjin anymore because I’ve caught feelings for your ex boyfriend.”
It’s out. Earth stops for a minute or at least it feels so. You can’t read Areum’s face at all. But you know that she’s contemplating what to say. An awkward chuckle slips out of her mouth, before she finally finds the words she’s been looking for.
“Oh. I wanna say I get it but I don’t,” she says and makes you laugh.
“It’s okay if… if it’s weird for you or you’re not over him I can just–“
“Darling, no,” she immediately interrupts you. Her hands find your own, squeezing them, as her eyebrows are scrunched together. Something tells you she’s being serious. “I would never expect that from you. Besides that, Minho and I—although we used to be together for some time—we both knew from the start that this wouldn’t be forever. Sure, I had some type of feelings for him but I wouldn’t call it true love.”
You’re not that surprised if you’re honest. After all, he’s never introduced her to the friend group. Still, your heart aches for her.
“Are you for real?”
“I’ve always wondered if Minho was secretly in love with someone else and if this was why he had been so distant and after I he told me about his friend group I thought it was you,” she admits.
Your chest clenches another time when you listen to her, while your stomach does an uncomfortable twist.
“I… I don’t think that was because of me,” you try to reassure her, not even believing yourself at this point.
“Well, I hope it was because of you.”
The hell does she mean?
“What?”
“Yeah,” she snickers. “Because I want him to be happy and you too. I won’t say I didn’t warn you but if he’s been in love with you for that long I’m sure he means it. And I wouldn’t let him wait too long. This guy is fucking impatient.”
“It won't make things weird between us?”
“It seriously won’t, I promise, Y/N,” she reassures you. “There’s no need to be jealous if you ever feel like it because… well… Hyunjin was the last guy I put all my hope in.”
You feel this on a whole new level. Still, you don’t quite catch what she’s hinting at. After all, they weren’t a couple.
“What do you mean?”
“I got confused for a second because of the kiss and all but especially with how he behaved after that and the fact it was rather my adrenaline pumping than some actual true feelings. But I don’t think I will ever date a man again,” she states, shaking her head.
You start laughing out loud, “Please, I’ll remind you of this when you go on the next date.”
“Oh, I didn’t say anything about dating. I’m a hopeless romantic. It just won’t happen with men anymore.” Oh. So, Areum isn’t into men? “I know I told you one of the main reasons for Minho and I breaking up was his lack of participation in anything. But… I wasn’t better. I have to be honest here. I ended things with him because I realised that I’m a lesbian. I haven’t had any experience with women back then—which doesn’t change things—but I do know now that I am not bisexual for sure.”
Well, that’s a plot twist you definitely didn’t see coming.
“Ah, I get what you mean. That makes sense,” is all you say, giggling.
She laughs with you. “I wish you all the best, Y/N. And if he ever treats you wrong, you tell me.”
“Thank you.”
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When you get inside the apartment, Jisung has already left for the gym to meet there with Changbin. You expect your other roommate to go with them, considering he’s in a relationship with the latter now, but instead you find your best friend baking in the kitchen.
“Making cookies?”
He nods, “Hm. I wanted to try out this new lemon cookie recipe. I haven’t started yet though—wanna help?”
Lemon cookies.
Everything reminds you of Minho now, huh?
“I’d love to. I also need your advice.”
You grab an apron for yourself, wrapping it around your waist before you begin helping Felix by following the steps of the recipe he orders.
“Right. I feel like I’ve missed a few episodes of whatever happened between Minho, Hyunjin and you. Although I have to say—their kiss was hot.”
You burst out into laughter, before cracking an egg open and letting it slide into the bowl.
“When Min and I were in the storage room–“
“You’re calling him Min now?”
“I overheard you calling Changbin Bunny on the phone, so don’t judge me.”
You tell Felix everything after this. How Minho told you that his sister got asked out by Hyunjin and that Areum is his ex girlfriend and friends with you. How you almost confessed to him but then he realised you broke the contract by kissing Hyune and Minho was the one to confess he has been in love with you before this agreement started. How you talked to Hyunjin and he explained everything but you told him that you have feelings for his friend.
“So, you’re planning to win his heart now?”
“Y-Yeah. That was the plan,” you admit, cringing a little. You’ve had some thoughts, ran some errands a few hours ago to get all the necessities. You hope it’s not too late.
“What’re your ideas?”
“Invite him over,” you say. “Pour my heart out. Have wine and perhaps, if you allow, some cookies after takeout. Oh, and I bought this for him.” You show him the present you bought some hours ago.
Felix smiles and nods, “I’m sure he’s gonna love it.”
“Is that too cheesy?”
“True love can never be too cheesy,” he tells you, grabbing the bowl to start mixing all the ingredients together.
“Well, considering you’re the only one in this friend group that isn’t single I guess I have to trust you,” you tell him and your best friend starts laughing.
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Minho’s heart feels as heavy as ever, whenever he thinks back to what Hyunjin said. You kissed him. His friend. The one you’ve been in love with for a year or perhaps even longer. Minho shouldn’t be surprised, right? After all, this was supposed to be the end goal. Hyunjin and you. Not Minho and you. Although, he’s been hoping these past days that you would change the plot of this story for him.
He was so sure that you were gonna confess inside that storage room. Why would you do that if your lips were attached to Hyunjin just a day prior?
“Jesus Christ, go talk to her, Min,” his best friend tells him, unable to watch the suffering playing in front of his eyes and apart from this, Changbin is waiting for him at the gym.
“I don’t want to,” he hisses.
Jisung scoots a bit towards him, “You do. You’re just furious. So, perhaps, yeah. Sort out whatever anger inside of you and then clear things with her.”
This just makes Minho drive closer to the edge of losing his temper. “You say this as if it’s so easy.”
“Because it is. She likes you. You like her. What are you waiting for?” Jisung shrugs his shoulders, his arms crossed in front of his chest.
“She kissed Hyunjin,” Minho speaks through gritted teeth.
“Yeah. She kissed him. And what has she done with you, hm? So much more. We had this same talk twenty four hours ago but you seem to have the memory skills of a fucking gold fish,” Jisung spits.
“Fuck you,” Minho counters.
“Yeah. Let it out, scream it out, yell at me, bro. All those emotions inside of you are just waiting to be set free,” Jisung replies, his voice turning louder—if that’s even possible.
“You sound like a therapist.”
“Then it’s working.”
Minho rolls his eyes. “What am I supposed to do, Han?”
“Take some time. Contemplate what you truly want. And when she’s ready, she’ll reach out to you,” Jisung says as if it’s the most logical and easiest thing in the world.
“She already has. She called me like five times already, left voice memos and all,” Minho confesses.
Jisung hastily waves his arms around, not quite getting why his best friend hasn’t mentioned this detail sooner.
“Perfect! What did she say?”
“That she wants us to talk in person,” Minho says, avoiding any eye contact.
“That’s great,” Jisung lets out, a huge smile on his face.
Minho’s gaze finally finds the one of the man sitting across, when he speaks, “What if she ends things?”
“Why on earth would she do that? Didn’t you say Y/N was close to confessing to you until someone dragged you out of the storage room?”
“Basically. But after I left I’m sure she talked to Hyunjin.” And perhaps did even more, Minho thinks but doesn’t speak out loud.
“She did, yeah. But that lasted for like ten minutes. What are they supposed to do in ten minutes?” Jisung asks, shrugging his shoulders again.
“Well… we only had seven minutes…”
“I’ve always known you’d be someone who suffers from premature ejaculation,” he teases the older one, playfully patting his shoulder.
“Shut the fuck up. We only kissed. We also haven’t had sex if you wanna know,” Minho says, rolling his eyes once more.
Jisung stares at him confused. “Huh? What was the contract about then? I thought you two were fucking?”
“Well, we’ve done a bunch of stuff… just not… the end level,” Minho explains, cringing about his choice of words.
“You talk like a loser. Anyway. That’s a very heteronormative perspective, after all oral sex exists,” Jisung of all people tells him, as if he was that experienced. Well, Minho isn’t either. But why would it ever matter if he wants to spend the rest of his life with only one person anyway? Whatever happened before you has no meaning anyway.
He’s also never talked about this. Sure, there’s a step left, the most intimate and closest way a man and a woman can be together, connect, and pleasure each other—but he knows what Jisung means. It doesn’t make a difference. Everything he’s had with you so far was perfect. More than this. And he’s seen it in your eyes that you feel the same. He suddenly feels a bit ashamed for keeping such a narrow-minded perspective.
“We’ve done that, yeah. More than once,” he admits.
“Ugh, okay. Yeah. I will need to bleach my brain now to get rid of those pictures.”
Jisung shrugs, before taking a sip from his soda.
Suddenly, Minho’s screen lights up, revealing a message from you. His eyes immediately fixate on the text.
[ You ]: Hey, Min. Would you like to come over tonight? I’ve prepared food, drinks and snacks and I have something I wanna give to you. If you accept it.
Another one follows that makes his stomach all fuzzy, his heart absolutely warm and spreads a bright smile all over his face.
[ You ]: 🍇🤍
He notices that this is the first time you actually write with capital letters in the beginning of a sentence, just like he does when texting. Minho types a quick reply, ready to finally face his feelings.
[ Minho ]: Okay 🍋🖤
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The doorbell rings thirty minutes after Felix left for his date with Changbin. You’ve got everything prepared. Everything should be perfect. However, you can still feel your heart blasting out of your chest. You’ve never been this nervous yet excited in your life before.
“I’m coming!” you yell, rushing to the entrance of your apartment and letting him inside. You hear Minho climb up the stairs with slow, steady steps until he reaches the floor where your flat is located.
“Hey,” he says, with a small and broken voice.
Fuck.
Perhaps, this is gonna be a bit more complicated than you thought. He still seems to be hurt, no big surprise, but you will prove to him that he didn’t come here for nothing.
“C-Come inside, I ma- ordered food.”
Minho suppresses a chuckle, before he gets inside and takes off his shoes. You offer him some slippers but he declines. Leading him towards the kitchen, he follows you, keeping a safe distance at all times. The atmosphere is tense but not in a way you’d enjoy it. You gesture for him to take a seat and that’s what he does, sinking down on one of the chairs, before you spread out the food you ordered on the table.
The first few minutes are silent but hopeful. The both of you start munching the meal, taking a few sips of the wine you bought, matching the accessories you’re wearing. Once you’re both done, you get up and put the dishes away, letting them sit in the sink to be taken care of later. Minho wants to offer his help and stands up too but he gets distracted when he finally takes a closer look at the outfit you’re wearing.
“Is that a dress with a lemon pattern on it?”
You shyly smile. “Y-Yeah.”
“You look beautiful,” he says, unable to hold back.
But you panic. You don’t know how to reply, so you just reach for the handle on the fridge and open it. “I’ve got pudding for dessert. And lemon cookies Felix and I made. Well, mostly Felix, I watched and spoke encouraging words.”
“Shall we talk first, Y/N? I-I’m just super nervous and a bit anxious, if I’m honest. Can the pudding and cookies wait?” he asks.
Wow. This is serious. Minho would rather speak to you first before having pudding, his absolute favourite.
“Okay, uhm—shall we go to my room? Just… in case Jisung or Felix come back, you know.”
He nods and follows you, still a bit distant but the air doesn’t feel as heavy as it did half an hour ago. You drop down on the bed next to him, pictures of his face disappearing between your thighs are immediately rushing up to your head, making it hard to focus.
Get it together, Y/N. This is not why he’s here.
“I’ve prepared something,” you announce and Minho looks at you confused. You get up from the bed again and walk towards your wardrobe, grabbing a small velvety bag out of it. You hide it behind your back, before you turn around again.
“I’m sorry about everything, Min,” you start, trying to keep eye contact, something you’ve never been good at. “I know it doesn’t excuse shit but the reason why I didn’t tell you about the kiss with Hyunjin—and this is gonna sound so cliché—is that it didn’t mean anything, it literally slipped my mind.”
You watch his reaction but you can’t read it. So, you decide to explain further, “Why would I spend even a second thinking about him when you’re either with me all the time or when we’re apart it’s you who’s occupying all my thoughts?”
Minho's eyes are widening and he shifts in his position. His back is upright now and he’s leaning forward, the palms of his hands meeting the blanket, keeping his balance.
“Are you serious?” he asks, before he swings his legs to the side and places both his feet on the ground.
“Yes. I was gonna confess to you yesterday, you know,” you admit, biting your lower lip.
He gets up, walking towards you. “So… the kiss with Hyunjin didn’t mean anything?”
“Nothing at all,” you reassure him. “It was pretty mediocre to be honest.” A smirk forms on Minho’s face. “I immediately compared it to you and… and realised that no feeling in this world comes close to being with you.”
“Cheesy,” he teases you.
“There’s no ‘cheesy’ when it’s true love,” you tell him.
His mouth falls agape, “What?”
“I’m gonna end my sentence that got interrupted yesterday but before that I have a little something for you,” you say, nodding.
“Oh?”
“Close your eyes please.”
Minho chuckles, “Okay.”
You reach for his hands, before you gently place the little bag into them. “Open your eyes please and then the gift I have for you.”
He follows suit, his gaze falling to your face first before it flickers down to the soft object that’s he’s holding now. Minho carefully pulls the strings so it opens, before he reaches inside with his index finger and thumb, grabbing out the accessory you bought for him.
“If you don’t like it I can just–“
“You’re literally insane,” he lets out with a laugh.
“I’m not sure if I can follow,” you confess.
“Stop playing with me, Y/N. This is literally the best gift I’ve ever gotten. We match now, huh?”
He looks at the bracelet that’s pinched between his fingers, adoring the little pendants that are shaped like lemons. “You prepared a whole lemon theme party for me, hm?”
You chuckle, before you help him put the jewellery around his wrist. Your heart skips a beat when your skin brushes over his own, but you keep going. It looks beautiful on his arm, as if it was made for him.
And when his eyes find yours, you know it’s the right time to let your heart speak.
“I’m falling in love with you, Lee Minho. It’s you. It’s always been you,” you say, taking a deep breath right between your words, “Maybe we can… change things from Exclusive Secret Relationship to Exclusive Official Relationship?”
Minho grins, “Of course, princess.”
He gently presses his lips on yours and you soon realise that this kiss differs a lot from all the ones you’ve shared before. It’s soft yet so passionate, as if your hearts are holding together like opposite magnets. His mouth fits perfectly with yours and Minho lets go a second later just to add, “You’re mine from now on.”
“But I’ve always been,” you immediately reply and the two of you chuckle.
The smirk stays on his face, when he asks, “Just because I’m curious—does Hyunjin know?”
You nod, “Yes, I even told him about my feelings for you.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry he was the first one to hear but I felt like he needed to hear this.”
He grins again. “Then tell me again, princess. Just for me this time.”
“I’m in love with you,” you repeat.
“Again.”
“I’m in love with you,” you whisper once more, your breath lingering on his mouth.
“Again.”
“I’m in love with you, Minho.”
He smiles, “I’m in love with you too, Y/N.”
His mouth collides with your own once more but this time Minho kisses you a lot hungrier, like a starving man that is about to devour you. However, you’re the one to stop him this time when something appears in your thoughts.
“We should renew the contract,” you say.
“Contract? A relationship doesn’t need a contract, Y/N. Well—technically, that’s what you call marriage but one step at a time, huh?”
"You're right. But just for the sake of the tradition,” you add.
“Whatever my princess wants.”
You grab your iPad from your desk and open the file with the contract of The Experience Project. Starting to scribble on it, you adjust most of the points before you hand the device to your boyfriend. Boyfriend. Wow.
Minho chuckles when he reads it, before he adds something too and signs the contract. You read it again, adding your name on the bottom right after it.
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Minho is carrying the prettiest marks of your kisses on his skin by now, since your lips have been hovering all over his jaw, neck and chest for the past few minutes. He lets out a whimper whenever you let your hips grind against his body, brushing over his hardening cock. You’re sitting in his lap once again—Minho has always adored having you on top of him. It’s been two weeks since the two of you confessed to each other, he’s been taking you out on dates, just another one followed this evening.
Then, half an hour later, you found yourself inside his apartment, plastering kisses all over his body as if he’s an art project to you. Minho and you haven’t taken any steps further compared to what you’ve done during your time of the agreement you used to have. However, this hasn’t held you back to exploring each other's needs, as he’s been turning you into an expert of pleasuring him. Minho loves corrupting you, teaching you even though the contract expired a long time ago.
Still—regarding to heteronormative standards—you’re still a virgin. It’s not that you mind. What your boyfriend and you have is beautiful, truly, still you’re dying to know what it would feel like to have his cock inside of you, your wet walls wrapped around his length as he’s pounding into you, hitting that certain spot inside of you.
You wanted to do this the night when the both of you became a couple but Minho was the one who insisted on waiting a bit longer. It’s not like he didn’t want to, but he needs the moment to be perfect and the idea of some contract fully out of your head.
But you’re ready. Absolutely.
“I wanna take the final step tonight,” you confess in between kisses, your gaze finding his own.
“Are you sure, baby?”
You nod, “Yeah. I’ve wanted this for some time. And you’re the right one. You’re the reason why I’ve been waiting for so long.”
A smug expression makes it to his face. “Okay, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”
Less than a minute later you’re sprawled out on Minho’s bed, completely naked, your back pressed against the soft mattress. He’s had you in this position a couple of times by now—your boyfriend will never get enough of the taste of your pussy, if he’s honest—but this time it feels even better if that’s possible. He’s devouring you like a five star meal, his tongue playing with your clit, working expertly, while his fingers are circling around your wet entrance.
“Min, please,” you whine, throwing your head back.
“Words, princess. Words, yeah?”
You hiss, “Fuck—need your fingers, okay? Just– do anything, baby.”
He still blushes whenever you call him by that name. But he follows suit, gliding two of his digits into your aching hole and you immediately clench around him. One could think your body should be used to Minho now and you definitely are, still, it’s just that effect that he seems to have on you—as if he knows you better than you know yourself.
Your boyfriend starts pushing them in and out of you, as his tongue never leaves its place, making out with your sensitive nub. “You’re doing so fucking well for me, baby,” he whispers against your wetness, before he dives right in again.
You arch your back and his fingers reach deeper, barely brushing over that certain spot and you know he’s teasing you. Still, this doesn’t hold you back from fully giving in to the feeling. Soon, you feel the rope in your lower stomach tightening, before it’s threatening to snap. Your lips part, as the prettiest moans are spilling from them and you’re glad now you decided to meet at Minho’s apartment instead of your own.
He tells you to not hide your noises and you’re happy to oblige, panting and whimpering his name, while his fingers keep disappearing inside of you. When you lock eyes with his and see the lust swirling around inside his own, the feeling finally rushes over you, your orgasm hitting you unexpectedly. Minho guides you through it, only stopping once you come down from your high again. You watch him lick his fingers clean, a moan from him echoing through the room in the process.
Your boyfriend stands up a second later, before he gets rid of the rest of his clothing. You watch his cock spring free—he’s hard, painfully hard, while the tip is leaking arousal. Feeling your mouth water, your body drags itself towards him but he stops you.
“Another time, yeah?”
You nod, while you watch Minho reach inside his nightstand table. He grabs a condom and opens the wrapping paper that’s covering it with his teeth, before he glides it down his length.
You’re still spreading your legs for him, in total awe and full hypnosis, when he adjusts your position and guides his cock to your entrance. The tip is close to your cunt now, begging to be inside of you.
“Are you sure you want this, baby?”
You immediately nod, “I’ve never been this sure in my life before.”
Minho plants the softest kiss on your forehead. “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you too, Min,” you tell him.
“I’ll go slow, yeah? We can stop any time and just try some other day,” he reassures you.
You feel his fingers teasing your hole again, before two of them slip inside. A third one follows and he keeps scissoring you open as if he didn’t literally do that a few minutes ago. But he wants to take his time with you and, yes, perhaps rile you up a bit, if he’s honest. Although, judging from the fucked-out look on your face, he’s already achieved that.
You know that too. Lee Minho already ruined you for anyone else when he kissed you for the very first time.
He slowly pushes the first few centimetres inside, instantly feeling you tightening around him. Still, he keeps pushing more of his length into you, when you give him a sign.
“Oh, fuck. You’re big,” you let out, giggling. The feeling isn’t that much different from his fingers inside you although the stretch is a lot more intense, but also a lot better.
He slips out of you again, earning a weak whine from you, right before he slowly enters you again, now fully bottoming you out.
Minho pushes a strand of your hair out of your face, before his eyes find your own, “Are you alright?”
“Hm, please, please move, okay?”
“Anything for my princess,” he says, before he starts thrusting in and out of you.
“Fuck, this feels so good, baby,” you immediately say, allowing the sensation to take over you. He keeps slamming his length into you, even throwing your legs over his shoulders some minutes later, when he notices you fully get used to the feeling.
“You’re taking me so well,” he praises you. With this new angle, he can go even deeper, hitting all the right spots. “You’re so good for me, baby.”
You’ve never expected your first time to be like this and perhaps it’s because you’ve, first, been doing all these other wonderful things with Minho these past weeks and, second, because you’re doing it with the person you love. You still can’t believe he isn’t that much more experienced either—you nearly couldn’t believe him when he told you some weeks ago. Perhaps, your bodies were anatomically made to be together, perfectly shaped for one another, as if you’re each other’s missing puzzle piece.
“I’ve always known that you’d be a good girl for me, hm? My good girl,” he says in between thrusts, going in for another kiss, just to let go of you again. Your boyfriend needs to watch your pretty face, needs to observe you fall apart for him on his cock. Fuck, he’s been dreaming about this moment for literal years now but nothing ever comes close to reality.
“Min–“
“Yeah, scream my name like that, darling,” he whispers. “Who do you belong to?”
You absolutely love it when he gets just a little bit possessive, making you feel like his centre of attention—as if you’re his sun and everything just revolves around you. 
“Y-You, Minho,” you tell him.
“That’s right. Who’s making you feel so good?”
“Only you, Min, please– I… need to–” you whimper, the top of your head rubbing against the pillow Minho placed between you and the frame of the bed, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself and accidentally bump into the headboard.
“Need to come, hm?”
Oh, you absolutely do.
“Yes, please,” you moan.
“You’ve been so good for me, go on, yeah?”
A yes or any other word dies in your throat, as the sensation takes over you, when the utmost level of sparkles spreads through your veins, rushing through your body. Your legs are shaking and you fear you might faint for a second, but Minho rides you through your high, whispering sweet and gentle words into your ears. You nod, allowing the feeling to fully control you. Your boyfriend keeps thrusting into you and with a weak whimper, he fills the condom with his seeds when he comes, placing the softest kiss on your lips first before they brush over the grape shaped necklace that you’re wearing.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he whispers.
“I love you so much too, Minho.”
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[ note ]: thank you again for taking the time to read this whole story. it means the world to me that you supported my silly little fic so much. in case you enjoyed this last part as well I would be thankful about any kind feedback, no matter if comments, reblogs or asks. i am at a loss of words after writing like 45K+ of them within 1.5 months lmao. I love you. Be kind to yourself. — Yours, Cece 🌸
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© leeknowsallyoursecrets 2024 — copying, stealing or translating my work is prohibited
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j-0ne25 · 7 months
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KIWI — [18+!]
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“Can you… cuddle me to sleep, please?”
His head snaps up to you, “Y/N… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m gonna sleep outside, okay?”
You’re the one to wrap their fingers around his wrist now, pulling him towards the van. “Nooo, it’s too cold. You’re gonna get sick. Stay a little longer?”
He sighs, “Okay.”
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🥝 SYNOPSIS: After graduating from college, you decide to travel around New Zealand and celebrate your freedom. But when you buy a van for the journey, the salesman scams you, selling the exact same car to both you and another person who’s no other than your childhood best friend you haven’t seen in years—and still have a huge crush on…
This is my entry for @skzwritingcafe 's July/August event “Summertime Confessions”! (I am a little over the deadline but still wanted to post this since the event inspired me to pick up this WIP again)
🌴 CONTENT INFO: chan x afab reader, dj chan, childhood friends to enemies to lovers, travel au, only one bed trope, fluff/angst/smut, mutual pining, based on a dream I had about my childhood best friend whose name happens to be felix but I changed this story to chan lmao, prices for cars might be unrealistic but a) i don’t own a car and b) i don’t know that much about new zealand’s economy (i did research tho!!), warnings and smut tags under the cut
🛻 WORD COUNT: 12.0K
🗺️ CONTENT WARNING: alcohol consumption (also includes excessive consumption once as well as mention of underage drinking in the past), short mention of breakup, scam/fraud, jealousy (both chan and reader), reader once calls chan daddy but sarcastically and non-sexually lmao
🧩 SMUT: dom/sub dynamics, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi-protected sex, choking, spanking, creampie, name calling (doll, dear, slut, good girl)
The characters do not portray any of the skz members in real life, the names are just used for fiction. Minors do not interact, this post contains mature topics. By reading you consent to nsfw content and agree that you have read all the warnings above carefully.
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Well. That’s a bumpy journey so far. What a start.
A drink spilled all over your shirt, crumbs of crisps in your hair and a bruise on your knee. And if this isn’t already too much for your stressed out and anxious heart—the man you’ve never ever expected to see again stands right in front of you.
But let’s start again from the beginning and how you ended up here. A quick recap, shall we?
Exactly one week and three days ago you finally graduated from college. Hard work pays off—more or less—and since your new full time job will start in a month, you finally have a little bit of vacation in what feels like years. 
So, that’s how you found yourself spontaneously booking a flight to Auckland, ready to spend some time and money traveling through New Zealand’s nature and taking in all the landscapes you’ve dreamt about. You just need this—need to do something different before you will actually start being an adult and drown in boring everyday life.
The flight went quite well but the airport you arrived at was a disaster—due to many delays of other connections you had to wait for your huge backpack for a few hours, totally exhausted and tired from the trip. The hostel you have reserved a bed in for your first night is overbooked and now you have to share the room with ten other people. Well, that is a normal hostel situation but you're just too sleepy to deal with anyone right now.
Which is why it’s ironic that you’re out of all places at a club instead. But no matter how tired you are, it was too noisy in the bedroom so you decided to go out again, hoping to get a little more tired so that you will be able to pass out due to exhaustion and fall into a deep slumber once you’re back.
And then the snowball effect hits you—the people in here are already drunk, too drunk, and possibly on other substances and you arrived sober. Spontaneous ideas aren’t your thing and maybe that's why you underestimated that whole scenario.
The music is quite good though and the drinks aren’t expensive as you would have thought—although they are still ridiculously high in alcohol percentage. So, you stick to sipping on one beer throughout your first hour of being here.
Every man inside here seems to pretend he’s in a zoo, hunting for the next woman that accidentally looks in his direction. It’s disgusting, really.
God. This is a very touristy place. Yes, you are a tourist, too. It doesn’t make any sense but you’re not here to make any sense. You’re here to forget about your exhausting travel to Auckland and you’re here to forget about the past two months or rather your whole life.
It’s a shame he’s still under your skin. That stupid ex boyfriend that decided to break up with you during the last week of you writing your thesis. You still managed to finish on time but you’ve been an emotional wreck ever since.
That was a lie. You’ve always been an emotional wreck but you developed to a whole new level.
However—that’s why you’re here now. Ready for a fresh start. Ready to possibly get a little tipsy and enjoy the music. At least the DJ is doing a good job. You seriously would have expected them to play some shitty cheap produced rap music or whatever young people listen to these days.
All those kids from far away that search for the meaning of life after highschool graduation by exploring either New Zealand or Australia—of course, far away from home, thinking they will come back with a whole new personality.
Well… the longer you think about that harsh thesis, the more you realise the irony layered in your thoughts. This might, partly, apply to you too.
Nevertheless, you didn’t come all the way to New Zealand and crossed the Tasman Sea to worry until your last brain cell melts.
You’re here to forget.
You’re here for a fresh start.
Far away from the troubles. Far away from your past. Far away from Sydney.
And everything that connects with this.
Maybe, the best thing is probably to get another drink—which is more than beer—one or two will be enough. After all, you don’t want to get shitfaced on the first night and the hot temperatures will do the rest anyway. You’ve got an important appointment tomorrow and need to appear at your best.
Heading towards the bar, you ignore the comments of the men that get a little annoyed about you pushing them to the side to get to your destination. Maybe they would react differently, if you gently shoved them aside, placing your hand on their lower back or—accidentally, of course—even a little more south.
After all, that’s what they usually do when the roles are reversed, right?
You manage to get to the bar, a little furious and still way too sober, someone’s drink spilled over your shirt and some crisps in your hair, but you waste no time and order your favourite drink.
You rummage around in your little purse, fishing out your wallet. Opening the pocket in which you stow away your coins, your fingers stumble across a shimmering object.
You’re not surprised. Yes, even after all these years you still have that necklace, carrying it with you wherever you go. You wonder if the magnet still works, if the charm would connect to its opposite one—the one that is owned by someone else. Of course, in case that person hasn’t thrown their necklace away yet. Which you’re convinced they have.
An hour and two drinks in, you’re hovering over the dance floor, still very much enjoying the great choice of music until the unexpected happens.
You take a closer look at the DJ, deeply mesmerised by his skills—when it clicks.
It’s him.
It’s really him.
The one and only Christopher Bang.
He looks so different but he also looks the same. His dimples are visible even in the dim light of the club. He wears his hair curly and black again—he used to straighten it a lot back then and occasionally get it bleached with your help. His face is filled with some piercings, his arms are decorated with tattoos.
His… wow. His arms.
Going to the gym and swimming must pay off.
But the worst part is…
You believe you’re gonna fall for him all over again.
And then his gaze meets yours.
Fuck.
You should have been more careful. Pretending this didn’t happen, you focus on the drink in your hand, watching the ice cubes swirl around when you stir the straw.
Until the unexpected happens once again.
He plays your favourite song.
Kiwi. Yes, you were a Harry Styles girl back then and even though eighteen year old Chan was too cool to admit it, he liked his music too.
What you don’t know is that Kiwi is still number one of his most listened songs on Spotify of all time until this day.
2017. Your last year of highschool. You listened to it all the time.
When Chan and you were cramming for your finals. When that guy from your chemistry class broke your heart. When you realised that you’re in love with your best friend.
You’ve always thought the both of you would end up together. Everyone thought so.
It’s an absolute cliché. You met when you were only one year old in kindergarten. Your mothers were best friends, glad about the fact the two of you could grow up together. Of course, they’ve always made some sort of joke about it—how Chan would marry you once you would be older.
For a long time you thought so, too.
He was your first kiss. Rather an experimental one when you were sixteen and just wanted to get it over with.
You had already had a small crush on him at that time and wondered, if he would return those feelings after making out with you. For a second you were so sure about it. You will never forget about the sparkles in his eyes when he let go of you again, lips even puffier than before from all the kissing.
Then he went on a date with Maya and everything went downhill.
That was in eleventh grade. They dated until your last year of highschool while you throughout that time… well, made zero experiences.
However, in eleventh grade as well, Chan started bringing you to Friday evening parties at the nearby beach. The people with you were other students from your year but they were Chan’s friends and not really yours. Those meetings basically only consisted of getting drunk in the sun and moonlight.
Maya was always there, too. For two years. Jealousy was basically eating you alive at that point but you obviously didn’t want to destroy Chan’s relationship. He seemed so happy. He really was. But you weren’t the one responsible for that.
One night at the beach, one of your classmates—Minho—and you got a little closer than planned. He used to be popular for being the typical high school fuckboy, quite known for changing his girlfriends every other week.
Of course, you fell for it, too. You’ve never regretted it. Although losing your virginity to him a week before graduating, right in the open, in the woods near the beach wasn’t the most romantic experience. But he was gentle. He made you feel wanted and loved although he was far from having any serious feelings for you.
But that was okay. You were still in love with Chan anyway.
This whole thing went on until the start of college and during that summer, your back then still best friend caught Minho and you one night.
Maya and him broke up some weeks after graduation since she was about to start studying in Japan and the relationship was basically doomed. There was another reason that you’ve never known about that also caused their bond to crumble.
Chan’s feelings for you.
But, well, it was too late now anyway. Even if there wasn’t Minho, Chan was still about to go to another country as well, leaving you in Sydney.
You get dragged back into reality when the song ends. However, your former best friend is still looking at you—a huge smirk decorating his beautiful face.
It’s an instinct kicking in. Survival mode, if you will. You turn around, almost bumping into a group of guys.
Downing the rest of your drink, you place the empty glass on some random table before making your way out of the building.
The way back to the hostel is a blur. You realise a little late that your eyes are stained with tears, ready to flood down like a waterfall.
You’ve never expected to see him again.
Well, you probably won’t another time after tonight. There’s no way you’re gonna go back into that club again.
🥝
You’ve underestimated the impact of seeing Chan again for a quick second. Your dreams were wild—partly in a bad way, partly in an embarrassing way that you don’t want to think about.
However, the fact that there’s a superstition that says that whatever you dream about when sleeping in a bed for the first time turns into reality, lets the spiral of worrying wander further.
Fuck. All these years in college you thought you were finally over him.
But Chan was your first love. The older you’ve grown, the more you have realised he has always been more than just a crush. 
But well—you missed that chance.
You’re torn between regretting leaving the club so impulsive and being convinced it was the right decision. You could spend the whole day wondering what would have happened if you stayed.
But well—you missed that chance once again.
After putting all your stuff into your huge backpack, you get ready for the day—taking an unfortunate ice cold shower in the shared bathroom and choosing a comfortable outfit—and leave the hostel once you’re ready.
The next bus brings you to a car dealership you made an appointment with online for today.
Because—you of course can’t start a van tour experience without a van, right?
You usually listen to your gut feeling and in at least nine out of ten cases it’s very dependable. However, with all the overthinking going on, your brain decides to ignore the fact that something about this store and the owner in specific feels… off. Quite oddinary.
The vans all look good, especially the emerald coloured one he is currently showing and presenting to you but you really should have spent at least a minute to look into the Google reviews… because they are either bad or fake. But you’re not aware of that.
You need a car anyway, it’ll be fine.
As long as the car functions and doesn’t cost you your whole year’s income, it’ll be okay.
“What do you say?” the salesman asks you, pointing at another vehicle in a similar shade to the previous one.
“Oh, I love the colour. What a beautiful green,” you tell him.
“It is! And it’s pretty spacious although it doesn’t look like it,” he exclaims.
The man walks around the car and opens it with the keys—he realised you seem to prefer this colour and luckily he’s got a few pieces to offer with it.
“What does it include in the price? It seems pretty cheap,” you ask, realising after speaking how negative your words come off.
But you saw a sign that read $ 2750 and fairly speaking—that is not a lot for a vehicle like that. Not even if you consider that it’s secondhand.
“That’s just because of the vehicle’s age,” the man starts explaining. He opens the door on the side completely, showing off the inside. “It has all the necessities. A mattress, enough storage space, a built-in table that you can let down when you open the trunk and it comes with free camping chairs.”
You take your time to examine all the details, checking if everything works fine.
But there doesn’t seem to be a single issue. He allows you to drive for a few minutes, take a short trip through the parking lot and everything is indeed absolutely fine.
There will probably never be a chance like this. You should definitely purchase it.
Or at least your very sad bank account is whispering that to you.
“I’d like to buy this one.”
The salesman brings you back to his little office which takes you at least a five minute walk but you don’t mind. You get that he wants to sell the car first before handing the keys to you.
“$ 2500 and it’s yours,” he offers once you arrive at the destination, lowering the price a little.
And you’re not here to complain.
Oh, Y/N. You should see all those red flags but apparently you’re a little colour blind. Not a surprise, considering that car you’re about to buy is green.
Or is it?
You pick out your wallet to grab your credit card, when you stumble across the magnet necklace again.
After seeing Chan for a brief moment, you start wondering again, if he still owns that necklace or—possibly—even wears it.
Okay. Slow down, Y/N. It’s getting ridiculous and delusional.
The beeping sound of the payment terminal wakes you up again. The salesman hands you the receipt, before grabbing a metallic object that is hanging on the wall behind him.
“Here. The keys for you.”
“Thanks,” you say, giving him a kind smile.
“I have to thank you,” he replies. “I’m off work now, have a safe trip.”
Oh.
Well, you’re probably gonna find your way back to the car, right?
In a parking lot filled with what feels like thousands of vehicles.
The walk back takes you at least fifteen minutes but there’s no need to hurry anyway.
You’ve got your car. You’ve still got enough money. You’ve got a great journey ahead of you. Everything paid off for this moment. You manifested it and now you’re luck is within reach.
Arriving back at near car, you place your huge backpack on the ground for a second in order to grab a thin jacket—it’s gotten a little chilly and you have to adjust things in the new van first, prepare Google Maps and make a general plan before you’re ready to start the adventure.
You close the bag again, before you walk towards the green vehicle.
You walk closer. And even closer.
Until you spot someone behind the car, hovering a big backpack—that isn’t yours—into the trunk.
You check again if it’s indeed your car but from what you can tell it is the one that the salesman showed and—most importantly—sold to you. It’s the same shade of sage, the little lanterns are hanging inside and the mattress has the washed out grey colour from earlier.
It is your car. The keys fit and you remember all the details from half an hour ago.
You unlock the door on the driver’s side and place down your bottle of water, before you carefully lean the huge backpack against the car. The waist bag stays on, the little keychain with the kiwi dangling around.
“Oh, what a surprise.”
Oh, God.
No.
That is impossible.
The odds are basically zero. Minus one hundred, if you will.
But of all people who could have been here, doing something to the car you just bought, it’s none other than Christopher Bang.
“Hell, no,” you let out.
Your former best friend walks around the corner until he fills your vision completely. It allows you to take in his full figure. He is wearing a black tank top, showing off his ridiculously muscular arms and—of course—fucking grey sweatpants.
“Hell, yes,” he giggles.
But why the fuck did he just put his backpack into the trunk of your car.
How did he even get it in there? How did he open the door?
You keep wondering until two objects cross your gaze.
A key.
And a receipt.
For that exact pastel green vehicle that you just bought.
“He sold that car to the both of us?!”
“Seems like it,” Chan says, shrugging his shoulders.
“Aren’t you… annoyed?! He fucking scammed us!”
Your childhood friend is so different. It’s not just that he looks older, even more tired than he used to in his teenage years but he is behaving so strangely.
Chan used to be the dad of the group, the one who took care of everyone, the one that made sure to pack enough water, tissues, sunscreen and plasters—just in case. He was the first person you came to after a fight with your parents or after getting back a test you failed.
He used to be your anchor. He used to hold you close when the waves hit the shore, clinging onto you.
But from the short conversation you can tell that five years can do a lot to a person. It feels as if there’s someone standing in front of you that looks a little like Chan but isn’t actually him.
“We can go back, if that’s what you want. But I’m not leaving the car to you. I spent four grand on it,” he says.
Your former best friend crosses his arms in front of his chest—just like he used to when you were children. At least this gives you a bit of comfort and familiarity, although it’s pretty stupid.
Then another thing clicks and you giggle.
“What’s so funny, huh?”
Chan’s words come off way more annoyed than he intended. This is not how he imagined to meet you again. He’s dreamt about this day for such a long time now—both wanting to see you and to avoid you for the rest of his life.
After all, you were the one who didn’t show up at the airport when he went to Seoul five years ago. Sure, you weren’t on great terms back then—although you never got into a fight, simply stopped speaking as regularly as you used to—but he expected you, his oldest friend, to at least say goodbye.
He’s still convinced it was because of Minho. Even though it didn’t seem that serious in the beginning, Chan has been wondering throughout all these years if that guy turned into your boyfriend.
But seeing you here alone lets those chances shrink.
Similar to his patience.
Opposite to those feelings that are reborn inside his heart.
“I only paid $ 2500,” you tell him.
Yeah, Chan definitely made a very bad deal here, for sure.
“Then you should leave it to me,” he replies with a smirk.
“Oh, no. Forget that.”
You turn around on your feet, yanking the door open to reach for your water bottle. Downing most of the liquid, you throw it back onto the seat.
Chan is still standing there, watching every move with a smile that turns into a smug whenever your vision crosses his.
“Then we should talk to him,” he offers.
Chan isn’t an asshole. He won’t take the car away from you. Besides that, he got scammed, too.
“He left the lot… said his work day is over,” you share, letting your gaze meet the dirty floor you’re standing on.
“What a coincidence… not.”
Chan lets his head sink down as well, feeling defeated. It could be such a great, almost romantic, reunion but something seems off.
You’re so different.
It feels as if there’s someone standing in front of him that looks a little like you but isn’t actually you.
“What do you want us to do?” he asks, his voice turning a little smaller.
“I’m not gonna be in a car together with you,” you immediately let out.
Chan wants to be respectful. That’s just how he is or, well, how he used to be. Five years can do a lot to a person, being left without a goodbye can break a heart—even of those who seem to be the strongest.
He won’t let you go. Hit two birds with a stone. He could tease you for two reasons—revenge and regret.
Of course, Chan was the one who used to be in an almost two year long relationship with another girl but that was before his feelings. At least that’s what he’s telling himself, up until this day, secretly knowing it’s not the truth.
It’s not entirely your fault. Even though Chan is convinced that you have never reciprocated those feelings at some point, he still feels awful for kind of ignoring you as his best friend once Maya and him became a couple.
He dragged you to all those bad parties at the beach and then complained that you decided to have your own fun with Minho.
Chan is such an idiot. He knows that.
That’s why he decides to take his chance this time instead of letting it slip.
“It doesn’t seem like you have another option, doll.”
Doll.
That’s new.
Chan used to have many nicknames for you.
Angel. Dear. Honey. Darling.
All platonic—of course.
Something tells you he’s only using it to tease you and you might be right about that.
“Let’s just drive together for the first—I don’t know—few days, we’ll get some money and then we’ll buy a second car, okay?”
His offer is the most rational option.
You don’t have enough money to buy another car and even if you were able to, you wouldn’t. The both of you got scammed and the salesman is nowhere to be found. So, just make the best of it and pray that you’ll get a second vehicle as soon as possible.
Or well—let him get the money for that. This isn't how you envisioned your trip, after all.
“I’m on vacation here. I wasn’t planning on getting a job and even if I was, I doubt I will find something that pays well,” you say.
Chan sighs, getting a little closer to you, mainly out of habit. Your heart skips a beat, nevertheless.
“I’m working as a DJ tonight again. In a club by the coast in Tauranga. I heard they hire for other jobs as well,” he informs you.
Shit. Unfortunately—or fortunately, however you view it—that is your next stop on your route anyway.
“What jobs?” you ask then.
He chuckles, a little embarrassed this time, while he simultaneously scratches the back of his head.
“Uhm… dancers.”
His voice is so quiet, almost inaudible, as if he’s hiding something.
“Dancers?”
“Well, yeah… more like… strippers but not exactly,” he replies with a shy smile.
“Yeah—no. I am not doing that,” you instantly shoot back.
Chan sighs again, looking up to the blue sky until his eyes meet yours.
“Well, either that or you have to spend additional days with me. The choice is yours.”
That fucking smirk.
He is already getting on your last nerve.
How the fuck are you supposed to survive this?
Maybe you should indeed drive a little with him—just for a few kilometres until you stop at a gas station and accidentally leave him there when he goes into the store to pay.
That sounds like a plan.
“Get in the car, then.”
🥝
You haven’t abandoned Chan yet as if he’s some dumb little puppy—although that isn’t far from reality, considering how he follows you everywhere and seems to constantly crave your attention.
The only hour of the day that he didn’t spend annoying the shit out of you was when you made a stop at the Hobbiton Movie Set to participate in a tour that he booked. He paid for your ticket since it was his idea and wish to join the journey but you would have rather had him save the money for the second car you need to buy.
However, it reminded you of your childhood—when Chan and you used to do Lord Of The Rings movie marathons. It had always been a tradition, an annual celebration, if you will. Until your paths separated.
You’ve spent a lot of time suppressing those thoughts, pushing away your guilty conscience that told you it was your fault how things ended. After all, you were the one who didn’t say goodbye. Something tells you this is why Chan has been teasing you since yesterday.
But in your opinion this isn’t the full story. Sure, you were the one to cut things off—or rather ghosted him—but he was the main responsible part of why your friendship started to crumble.
God, you were so dumb back then. Well, you were teenagers and they tend to be a little dense and stupid.
You keep wondering how things would be if the both of you would have been able to communicate.
But then again—you believe a little too much in destiny and it can’t be a coincidence that Chan and you met again. Twice. Just when you’re entering a new stage, when you’re finally at a point in your life that isn’t the most satisfying and happiest but you can say that you’re the truest form of yourself that you have ever been.
Maybe it’s meant to be.
However, you’re not ready yet to fully grasp that idea.
“Kiwi juice?”
Your head snaps towards Chan, who is sitting in the driver’s seat. You switched after the Hobbit adventure, currently on your way to the beach in Tauranga.
“Hm?”
He offers you the paper carton in his hands.
Fuck. Those pretty hands. You could get lost at the sight.
Pull yourself together, it’s getting embarrassing.
“You want some? It’s the brand from… when we were younger,” he says, taking a little pause in between the words.
He’s nostalgic, he can’t deny it.
Chan has been wondering if it can really be a coincidence that the both of you met again.
Twice within twelve hours.
“Oh, sure,” you say, reaching for the juice. Your hand brushes his for a second in the process and your heart skips a beat, synchronising with Chan’s a second later.
When his gaze switches back to the road ahead of him, yours stays fixated on his face. You think he doesn’t notice but he does. However, this time he holds back that teasing comment that is tingling his tongue.
Happiness erupts on your face, when you taste the kiwi juice again for the first time. They’ve always been your favourite fruit—of course—and it would be a lie if you said this didn’t have an impact on you for choosing New Zealand as your travel destination after graduation.
“Is good?”
You nod, smiling at Chan and he gives you the same expression. It feels so natural—you look back into those same beautiful brown eyes from five years ago.
A thin pink layer appears on his cheeks and Chan is fast to bring his attention back to the street.
You can’t hold back the enormous smirk that is decorating your face now.
The journey flies by, until you reach the campsite and search for a nice spot to stop the car. Just when he’s about to turn off the engine, no other song that Harry Styles’ Kiwi is playing again. The both of you chuckle, suddenly feeling some kind of connection again.
Oh, Lord. That is gonna be an interesting evening.
Especially, once you remember the job Chan mentioned.
“Wait–“ you say, when you have gotten dressed and join Chan again who is currently busy preparing some dinner.
“What is it? You don’t like pasta anymore?”
You take a closer look at the dish he is currently cooking, as the delicious scents start entering your nostrils. Nostalgia hits you like a fucking train on highspeed once more.
“I– I do, that’s not what I meant.” Sinking down on the seat next to Chan, you help him place down the plates and cutlery. “I am… I don’t think I can do this… dancing job. I know it’s unfair if only you are working, especially since you spent the most on this car but I just can’t–“
“Woah, slow down,” Chan says. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I don’t know what has gotten into me earlier, I just wanted to… tease you, I guess. The club does hire dancers but you seriously don’t have to do this.”
“Okay,” you let out with a small voice and relief washing down your spine.
The pasta is finally ready and served. Chan’s cooking skills seem to have improved by at least ten levels since high school and you compliment him, causing the blush to come back to his cheeks again.
“Do you still want to come to the club with me, though?” he asks or rather offers.
You’re unsure. If you’re honest, you’re not in the mood right now for partying, you would rather have some introvert time and maybe you can get that once Chan leaves to work.
“I… I think I’m gonna lay down for a bit, I’m still tired from yesterday, the flight to Auckland was kinda exhausting.”
What a pity. He would have loved to have you there. Now that Chan has finally gained some confidence and feels the chemistry between the both of you come back to what it used to be—although so many things are still left unspoken—it would have been a great chance to at least build some trust again.
He kind of regrets annoying you in the beginning, pretending to be some douchebag although you deserved the initial teasing. But he rather wants to get closer to you all naturally and he does still believe that the both of you meeting is a sign. A fucking obvious neon sign.
It is ridiculous that after all these years, his feelings haven’t changed in the slightest for you.
He hopes that he won’t make that much money tonight so that you have to travel around together for a little longer.
“Sure. The club is straight this way, like two hundred meters, in case you change your mind.”
🥝
You did change your mind. A nap later and the clock hitting half past midnight, you decide to at least check out the venue. Getting ready takes you a little longer than expected but this can mainly be blamed on the way you packed your things in the huge bag.
You decide to go for a dark shirt combined with a skirt that has pockets—yes, pockets! Your favourite sneakers complete the look and transport you to the club. You follow the sandy path until you reach your destination.
Considering the night is already in full swing, it doesn’t take the employees long to check your ID and sell you a ticket. The venue is partly in the open—turning this into a party by the coast. A lot of people got rid of their initial outfit, deciding to stay in their swimwear. You’re glad you did the same, choosing a bikini over a bra and panties as if you already expected it.
The atmosphere is phenomenal—you’re glad you came here. You missed being at the beach. It’s where you belong. It’s where you truly feel at home.
A beautiful melody fills your surroundings, immediately pulling you closer to the bar that is located near the stage. You order a drink, before you head back into the crowd of people.
Chan—busy showing off his skills—spotted you right away. Even in a gallery filled with the most beautiful art pieces, he’d still be staring at you.
You catch him observing you, allowing your eyes to connect with his and he gives you a soft smile. It’s when your two drinks into the night, that you notice a shift in the situation.
Of course, you aren’t the only person having alcohol and some fun and it’s a club at a very touristy place after all. So, you shouldn’t be surprised that a lot of people, especially women, are approaching Chan, probably asking for certain songs, complimenting him, flirting with him.
It’s mainly groups that try to start a conversation with him, giggling along whenever he replies to one of their questions. That’s fine. You’re fine.
He's a DJ. He is at work and just doing his job, maybe hoping to get tipped or something.
It’s alright. Really. Until those groups turn into individual women that gather up enough courage to talk to him alone. The conversations—despite the insane noise—become longer and he gets closer to them.
An hour passes and another hour follows, filled with girl after girl flirting with your former best friend.
Another one approaches him. She’s even more beautiful looking than the previous one and your stomach turns when you realise she looks a little like Maya.
It’s not her—without a doubt. But when you see the smile on Chan’s face and how he leans closer to her to catch what song she’s suggesting, you know he must have a type.
That type being quite the opposite of you. 
You try to not read too much into his mimics, concentrating on the sound of the music roaming around and the taste of the alcohol on the tip of your tongue instead. 
Then you see him reach for her phone, definitely typing down his number.
That’s it. You’ve had enough.
Why the fuck did you have to meet him again?
Why the fuck is he flirting with all these women?
Why the fuck is he flirting with you too?
And most importantly—why are you jealous?
You spin around on your feet, storming towards the bar. With your back turned to Chan, you don’t see the enormous smirk he has on his face once again. He’s not oblivious—he noticed you staring at him for literal hours and he would be lying if the very obvious jealousy that you are carrying isn’t the main reason for his flirting in the first place.
He enjoys seeing you like this. Chan would have never believed to be such a tease with someone but you seem to provoke a side of him that has been slumbering inside him, waiting to be woken up.
The women that approach him from now on finally become transparent—it’s not as if he’s seriously been interested in any of them, flirting is sometimes part of his job and you shouldn’t read too much into it. However, Chan will use whatever to his advantage when it comes to getting a reaction out of you.
In the meantime, you order a vodka shot at the bar, downing it in one go before you immediately get another one. And another one. In this angle, Chan can’t tell what and how much you’re drinking but when he sees you come back, dangerously confident, heading towards the dancing stage, he knows it’s more than you’re possibly able to handle.
There are other guests on the stage as well, having some fun, letting out their inner desires, getting loose. The paid dancers are somewhere else but it’s still ironic that you’re becoming the spotlight of the whole club now—after being all shy with dancing.
Chan is a bit worried, if that’s really what you want to do or just the alcohol speaking. But you seem to feel comfortable and you really enjoy what you’re doing, you can’t deny that. He still keeps an eye on you—both for caring but also absolutely selfish reasons.
It’s alluring, how you sway your hips to the melody of the songs he’s playing, how your body moves to the beat so perfectly. Chan knows you’ve always been into dancing and music but unfortunately were too insecure to show it.
You’re having the time of your life, you really are.
Until you feel that last shot kicking in, realising it was one too many.
Leaving the stage, you sit down on some sofa for a bit, feeling your head spin like a carousel. When Chan has chosen the following song and switches his gaze back to the dancers, he can’t find you anymore. Hastily, his eyes roam through the club and he feels his chest tighten in anxiety. Possibly, you just went to the bathroom but you are also extremely intoxicated.
Searching for a nearby colleague, he informs them that there is an emergency that he has to take care of. Not quite pleased, the person tells him that if he leaves now, he will be fired from the job.
But Chan doesn’t care. All he cares about is you and your well-being. 
He knows you enough to know that you tend to underestimate the effect alcohol has on your body, at least it’s been like this when you were teenagers. Leaving his own stage, he starts searching for you.
You’re not sitting on the sofa anymore. A kind girl gave you a bottle of tap water and offered to comfort you, however, your emotions washed over you, making you rush towards the beach. She follows you, wanting to know you’re okay.
That’s where Chan finds you, lying in the sand, absolutely shit-faced. The girl next to you immediately senses him approaching you and enters defending mode.
“Who are you?”
He realises now how weird the situation for her must be. He’s a man she hasn’t seen with you before, so of course, hesitation is the right option.
“I’m her friend, just wanted to make sure she’s okay,” he explains.
Chan feels awful for not grasping it sooner. Sure, it was comforting seeing you have fun but he underestimated it. But then again—how was he supposed to help you while being at work?
He’s here now. That’s what counts.
“You really think I would believe that, hm? Any guy could just say that, you better leave her alone,” the girl says, severely annoyed by Chan and worried about you.
“Yeji… it’s good,” you tell her, “I know him. We are on vacation together, we’re childhood friends.”
She lets out a relieved sigh, giving Chan a small smile and telling him to sit down next to you as well.
Unfortunately, in your drunken state you don’t notice him getting closer because, if you did, you wouldn’t say those following words at such a high volume, when you lean towards Yeji.
“I have a huuuge crush on him but he doesn’t seem to notice.”
Chan’s heart stops beating.
What?
This can’t be. His pulse is running at the speed of light and he feels himself getting dizzy now, despite not having even a single drop of alcohol in his system.
“Okay, so you’re good?” Yeji asks.
You nod and pull her into a hug.
“You’ve got my number, just in case, okay?” she says, before saying goodbye and leaving you alone with your friend.
Chan makes sure you drink the rest of the water until the bottle is empty, as he watches the shimmer of the night sky reflect in your eyes.
“Y/N,” he begins.
“Huh?”
You look at him with big eyes, almost like a deer that stops in the middle of the street when a car approaches the animal.
“Let’s go back,” he says, getting up from the ground. Chan offers you his hand and helps you stand on your feet again. You’re stumbling a little but he makes sure to help you gain back your balance, holding your figure.
“Dancing? Sure, but my head it– spin-spinning and–“
“No, to the van,” he says.
You pout, letting your shoulders sink.
“But I wanna daaance, pleeeaaase…”
Chan seems frustrated.
“Party’s over, come on.”
His fingers wrap around your wrist, dragging you after him, as he guides you towards the campsite.
“You’re so mean!”
Chan sighs, deciding to not pay too much attention to your childish behaviour. After all, you’re pretty drunk and he’s glad you’re fine. Going back to the club is the worst idea.
First, you’re not in the right state of mind to be dancing again. Let alone drink something.
Second, the security will probably tell you to leave anyway, once they notice how intoxicated you are.
And third, it would be embarrassing for Chan to go back there, after he basically got fired.
“We’re gonna get you sober and ready for bed, yeah?”
You pout again, letting a whimper follow, as you obediently walk next to Chan.
“Okay, daddy,” you reply sarcastically.
He ignores your teasing now—and the way this dumb name makes him feel flustered—instead helping you brush your teeth which turns out to be a lot more complicated. You’re so absolutely stubborn and not able anymore to control your body and balance. However, he manages to take off the rest of your makeup and put your hair in a comfortable style for sleeping.
There’s one thing that’s still on the list. You can’t go to sleep with your outside-clothes.
“Pyjamas?” he asks you.
“In the backpack.”
Chan gets up from his seat, making you drink another glass of water, as he walks towards your bag. You’re carrying so much stuff with you that it seems impossible for him to find what he’s looking for. His fingers accidentally brush over a pile of panties, feeling the lace material against his skin. Your childhood friend is glad that the blush on his cheeks isn’t visible in the dim moonlight.
“I can’t find your sleepwear,” he says, giving up.
“Then I’m gonna just stay in my party outfit.”
“Oh, no,” he says, “you’re not wearing this worn stuff from outside on the mattress.”
You remember now. Chan has always been like this. When you used to visit him as a child, he made you change your “outside clothing” in case you wanted to sit or lie down on any type of furniture in his parents’ house. 
Your pants came in contact with the bus seats, that’s yikes, Y/N, he used to say. As a teenager you didn’t care but the older you got, the more you adapted to this philosophy.
“Fine,” you groan.
Chan decides to just grab something to wear from his backpack, it’ll do. He finds a nice oversized shirt and some boxers that he hands to you.
“I… you want me to wear your underwear?”
He sighs. Once again. “It’s clean, oh my God. Just change your clothes already.”
The curly haired turns around then out of respect, while you slip into the baggy fabrics.
“Done.”
“Good,” he says.
You crawl into the van, sinking down on the bed sheet, as you feel the weight of the mattress shift underneath you.
Chan gets ready for bed, too. In the meantime, you plug your phone to the power bank and send Yeji a quick text.
She answers within a few seconds.
[Yeji 04:57]: Sleep well, darling. Thanks for texting me. Goodnight 💕
It doesn’t take your phone long to receive another message from her.
[Yeji 04:58]: Also, get that man. He seems to like you back ;)
You chuckle, still way too tipsy to fully grasp what she says. How is she supposed to tell? She spent like three minutes with him and doesn’t even know you that well, either. Yeji is just a random but very kind girl you met while waiting in line in the bathroom.
Chan drags you out of your thoughts when he walks around the car, stopping in front of you to place his toothbrush back into his bag. He’s changed into some sweatpants, not bothering to wear a shirt to sleep.
Maybe it’s the alcohol that’s still swimming in your veins.
Maybe it’s the light of the lanterns tinting his naked chest in the prettiest glimmer.
Maybe it’s the pent up feelings and all those unspoken words.
Or it’s all of those things combined that make you speak the following words, “Can you… cuddle me to sleep, please?”
His head snaps up to you.
“Y/N… I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m gonna sleep outside, okay?”
You’re the one to wrap their fingers around his wrist now, pulling him towards the van.
“Nooo, it’s too cold. You’re gonna get sick.” Chan can’t resist that annoying pout on your face. “Stay a little longer?”
He sighs, crawling into the van as well, as he takes the space next to the door.
“Okay.”
It doesn’t take you long to fall into a deep slumber, while Chan holds you close—you being the small spoon and him being the big one. Whereas you are already deeply occupied in your dreams, insomnia seems to take the best of him again.
He can’t believe he’s got you back in his life.
He can’t believe that you’re getting along again, especially compared to eighteen hours ago after buying the van.
He can’t believe you told your new friend that you have a crush on him.
If that’s really the truth that would mean… that would mean you have had that crush for some time, right? Considering you only met one and a half days ago, you must have already had feelings for him before that.
Fuck. Chan is possibly the luckiest guy on this earth. He dearly hopes this isn’t that dream he’s dreamt a thousand times before.
Just when he’s about to finally get some rest, too, you stir around and change positions, before your eyes open and in your half asleep state, you start speaking,  “You left, Channie…”
His own eyes widen, pulling you closer. Maybe you’ve got some of those nightmares again that you used to have when you guys were younger.
“But I’m here, darling,” he reassures you, using that nickname again for the first time.
“No,” you mumble, “you left and went to Seoul five years ago. You left me.”
His heart stops and then breaks into a thousand tiny pieces.
That might be true but you were the one to literally ghost your lifetime best friend.
“And you didn’t say goodbye, Y/N,” Chan spits back.
He can tell you’re not fully awake. Maybe that’s what gives him enough confidence to speak what’s on his mind. It feels so good to finally let that out.
God, he’s such a coward.
Your eyes open a little more, although you’re still not really awake.
“Is that why you’re mad at me? Why you were teasing me?” you ask him.
He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding, “Yes.”
You roll onto your back, hiding your eyes behind the palms of your hands.
“Chan…”
He interrupts you, already regretting that he told you about his feelings, “Just forget it–“
“I couldn’t say goodbye…”
“Just… cut it–“
“My heart couldn’t handle it,” you say, “I was, well, I still am too much… too much in love with you to let you go.”
That’s when you doze off back into sleep.
It’s real. You’re real. Your feelings for him are real.
All these years. All the time waiting pays off—just for you to confess in your sleep. Well, better than nothing. Chan will see what the next day holds for you.
He knows you won’t hear him. However, he still speaks his words out loud, when he says, “I love you too, Y/N.”
🥝
You wake up around two in the afternoon the next day, feeling your pulse pumping inside your head.
Chugging down the rest that’s inside your metallic water bottle, you come to the realisation that you have no idea how you made it back to the van last night.
Speaking of—you find yourself alone in here, the space beside you still a little warm but that could also be caused by the sunbeams that are making their way inside the vehicle.
When you push the blanket away, you observe yourself in clothes that aren’t yours. Looking down at the bottoms, you notice you’re wearing boxers, probably Chan’s.
Why are you wearing his clothes? You guys weren’t so drunk that you… no, Chan wouldn’t do something like that.
However, you were indeed drunk. That is a fact. Otherwise you wouldn’t have a mental blackout about yesterday’s night.
“Morning,” Chan says, appearing in front of the van’s door. “I made some tea for you.” He hands you the beverage, painfully obviously trying to avoid your gaze.
What the hell happened?
“How are you?” 
Chan takes a seat beside you, leaving respectful space between the both of you.
“I’ve been better before. I feel very tired and sore. I also don’t remember much… my mind is blank after… getting up that stage– oh God, I probably embarrassed myself and–“
“You didn’t,” he reassures you. “You were the life of the party.”
You roll your eyes, “That sounds even worse.”
He chuckles and you join him. It feels good and so familiar to be with him.
Chan feels like comfort. He feels like home.
“Do you feel good enough to go on a two and a half hour trip to Cathedral Cove?”
Wow. Your plans once again seem to match.
“That was my next stop on my route, too,” you tell him with a smile.
“I know. I saw the little sheet of paper you pinned to your backpack. Sorry, I hope it’s okay I read–“
“Of course,” you say.
“Then, take your time to get ready. I have a job again at a club tonight but only for the first few hours.”
After taking a shower—a cold one again—in the public bathroom of the campsite and changing into some comfortable shorts and a baggy shirt, you head back to the van. Chan hands you a bowl, filled with your comfort breakfast.
“You made porridge?”
He nods, “Yeah. We didn’t have fresh fruits and the little market over there was already closed, so I used canned tangarines. It tastes good, though.”
And it really does. The citrus fruits and sugar give you a lot of energy and fight against your hangover, the oats fill your stomach and awaken you.
“Did you make enough money yesterday?” you ask Chan, once you’re done with eating and washing the dishes, before packing everything.
“About that,” he starts, scratching the back of his head.
“What happened?”
“They kinda fired me… because I took a break to look if you were alright,” he explains.
Shit. That’s all your fault. You feel like a helpless child that he has to look after. The fact you drank so much because of your jealousy, lets your guilty conscience wash all over you.
“Chan, I– fuck, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have drunk that much I am so dumb–“
“Hey, it’s fine,” he says. “I don’t care. I don’t want money from a company like this, anyway.”
He waits until you give him a little nod. Chan hovers your backpacks into the trunk again, before you take the passenger’s seat.
The door to your right opens, as Chan sinks down next to you, starting the engine.
“Shall we?”
🥝
You got a little more sleep while Chan drove the two of you to the new destination. Dinner was on you tonight—your speciality, instant ramen, homemade by you. Maybe not the most nutritious meal, but a good and greasy base for possibly drinking alcohol again.
However, when entering the venue—well, it’s really just four neon lanters creating a makeshift square at the beach—you decide to ditch the drinks tonight, instead going for lemonade and water. Once again, Chan isn’t drinking either, knowing he is more focused on his work when he’s sober.
His talent is insane. He even makes you enjoy songs that you don’t like at all, solely by the remix versions he creates. You’ve always known that he’s a virtuoso. 
You’re feeling freedom rush through your veins, letting go of all the worries, as you dance along to the beautiful music.
Until you take a look at Chan and once again find a group of women surrounding him.
That’s when it clicks.
You got drunk yesterday, after watching the exact same scene that is turning into a déja-vu now. He flirted with them and as immature as you were, you decided to drown your jealousy in vodka.
Yeji, the kind girl from the bathroom, comes back to your mind. How she took care of you until Chan was–
Oh, no. 
You also remember now how he got you ready for bed—which explains the shirt and boxers—and how you begged him to cuddle you to sleep.
There’s another distant memory in the back of your head that you can’t quite grasp yet. You can’t differentiate if it was a dream or not, but something tells you, you poured your heart out to Chan and accused him of leaving.
You don’t remember your exact words. You do remember, though, how you told Yeji about your crush on Chan, while he was literally next to you.
Fuck. You’re so embarrassing. This year’s world wide loser award goes to none other than Y/N Y/L/N.
“Fancy a drink?”
The male voice startles you at first, however, you still turn around to search for its owner. In front of you is standing a beautiful man, a bit taller, his long black hair almost reaches his shoulders.
You said you didn’t want to drink. You want to be mature. But when you catch a glimpse of a girl whispering something into Chan’s ear, you know you’ve had enough. He doesn’t like you back, give up already. You confessed having a crush on him and he doesn’t do anything about it, time to live your life and show Chan what he is missing.
“Hm, one drink won’t do much harm,” you tell the guy.
He pays for the beverage and every water and lemonade you order after. It’s fun spending time with him. He’s without a doubt the best dancer you’ve ever seen, encouraging you in your own moves.
You didn’t get his name when he introduced himself due to the noise inside—you don’t know if he’s called Hyunjin or Hyungmin but it doesn’t really matter anyway. He’ll help you get your mind off all the mess nonetheless.
He’s dancing behind you, his crotch pressed against your ass, only a few layers of fabric separating you from him. His lips land on your neck, destined to draw a pretty pattern on your skin.
The clock hits two. Chan’s shift is over.
And you can be sure he will waste no time to do what he’s wanted to do since that prick laid his hands on your hips.
A minute later, Hyunjin feels someone touching his shoulder, making him pull away a little from you.
“Sorry, but the party’s over.”
Why is Chan always ruining the fun? You aren’t even tipsy. What’s his fucking problem?
“What do you want, dude?” Hyunjin says, clearly annoyed.
You stay in his hold, but your gaze finds Chan’s.
“I want you to let go of my girl and piss off, to be honest,” he answers, clicking his tongue.
What?
Your head starts spinning like yesterday, but this time you’re drunk on emotions.
“Man– I didn’t know–“
Hyunjin doesn’t get to finish his sentence, when Chan is already dragging you out of the club and towards the empty campsite.
The curly haired doesn’t say a word, but the tense atmosphere fills the whole beach even until you get closer and closer to your car.
Chan is furious. Sure, those girls talked to him as well, flirted a little but that’s what all there was. But when he saw Hyunjin’s lips on your neck, that straw broke the camel’s back.
Meanwhile, you feel like you’re in trance. You’re obediently following him just until Chan spins you around and watches your back meet the side of the green car.
He cages you between his firm body and the vehicle. The sight makes your knees go weak, makes you lose even the last molecule of sanity. You know you won’t have to say much, it’s obvious what it is.
Maybe it’s the fact you’re thinking clearly, no alcohol in your system this time.
Maybe it’s the way the moonlight covers Chan’s muscular arms and how the stars reflect in those beautiful brown eyes.
Maybe it’s the pent up feelings and all those unspoken words.
Or it’s all of those things combined that make you speak the following words.
“Just kiss me already.”
Chan may be an idiot from time to time, but he won’t let this chance slip. His lips smash into yours, making time stand still, letting the earth and the whole fucking universe stop for a minute.
Every cell in your body wants him. 
And you show him exactly that, when you invite his tongue in to explore the insides of your mouth. Your heartbeat starts echoing in your ears and a moment later, it synchronises with Chan’s.
His hands find their way to your hips, wandering a little further until they meet your ass. He squeezes the soft flesh through the fabric of your skirt, listening to the beautiful moan you let out.
It’s only now that you get aware that you put on the metallic necklace tonight—your friendship accessory that connects you, literally, with Chan. You wanted to get some reaction out of him. But he doesn’t seem to have noticed yet.
He’s too busy placing one kiss after another on your lips anyway, until he decides to change the course and wanders down with his artwork. Your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, back to your lips, right in that order. He wants to make sure that every centimetre Hyunjin touched, will be drawn over.
He’s driving you insane. You already feel yourself getting absolutely lightheaded. Maybe that’s how you justify that next whimper that spills from your lips, when his hand travels between your legs. He wonders if you put on a skirt on purpose but, nevertheless, this will make his mission a lot easier.
“Chan– stop teasing–“ you let out, knowing you won’t be able to withstand any anticipation.
But Chan isn’t done yet with provoking you. Not after you danced with that guy in the club, not after you let him kiss you like that.
“Don’t complain too much or I’ll fuck you against the van, here outside, for everyone to see.”
Oh, God. In the state you're in, you’d probably even allow him that. However, after falling asleep in his arms on the bed inside the van, you should finish what you’ve started exactly there.
And Chan seems to read your mind, as it seems.
“Get your pretty ass on the mattress, doll.”
But you decide to change plans a little, for the sole reason to tease him now. Beating him with his own weapons sounds like the most entertaining thing you can imagine.
Your lips land on his neck, rough bites leaving an astonishing memory of tonight. Chan’s the one to let out a moan now, as he feels his boxers tighten, his growing erection brushing against the fabric.
But he won’t let you defeat him so easily.
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he warns you. Chan catches your face, squishing your cheeks together in an attempt to make you look at him, which you immediately do.
“I’ve had enough of your behaviour.”
His other hand is back between your thighs, disappearing under your skirt, wandering up to your very much soaked panties. Of course, he has to chuckle out loud, when the tips of his fingers brush over that embarrassingly wet spot.
“For me, baby?”
But you won’t let him defeat you so easily.
Chan finds it hilarious that you’re getting shy now but your body speaks what your mouth doesn’t want to—especially, once he carefully pushes the laces aside, grazing over your wetness.
“Fuck– please–“ you let out.
Well, it seems as if you let him defeat you easily. But you don’t care.
“Get inside, doll.”
He yanks the door of the car open, making you crawl inside.
And he wouldn’t be Chan if he didn’t tell you to take off the skirt before sitting down on the bed sheets. After all, you’re wearing outside clothes. Or maybe it’s just a cheap trick. However, when he takes off his jeans as well, leaving him in his underwear and the view of the pretty outline of his hard dick, you giggle a little.
When lying down on the soft cushion, the pendant that’s attached to the chain somehow wanders underneath your shirt, hiding it from Chan completely. But you don’t even notice. Not when the man above you is ready to devour you like a five star meal.
“Maybe I should fuck the brat out of you, make you come to your senses again,” he says, making you scoot a little more upwards.
He places your legs over his shoulders, before he starts kissing the inner sides of your thighs, gradually wandering towards your clothed core. A long stripe meets your panties, as you desperately hold back another moan.
“You’re all talk but no doing, Chan,” you let out.
He just chuckles and wastes no time to pull down your underwear, getting right back to his task. 
“Weird way of begging, but if that’s what you’re asking for…”
As if you’re on autopilot, you spread your legs even further, allowing your friend better access. His tongue comes back into play, as his fingers help him push your pussy lips apart.
Then your mind turns off.
“I– Fuck–“
It feels like heaven. The kitten licks. The vibrations his moans send through your whole body. His fingertips that circle around your throbbing hole.
Chan pushes two digits in at once, adoring the little whimper you let out. Your walls immediately clench around him, sucking him in, telling him how much you missed him.
It’s embarrassing how close you already are. But you’ve lost track of time—you can’t tell if it’s been seconds, minutes or hours that Chan’s head has been between your thighs.
You’ve never been with a guy that enjoys eating pussy that much. How you regret not doing this sooner with him…
“Chan– I–“
He just hums against you, enjoying every bit of your helplessness. You should have done this sooner. How he regrets not confessing to you earlier…
Squelching sounds are filling the car and in the back of your head you’re quite glad that Chan remembered to close and lock the door. His fingers already feel so absolutely amazing inside you, you wonder how great his cock is gonna fill you.
You get a taste of the idea, when he once again swirls his tongue around your clit and changes the angle of his fingers a little. He’s knuckles deep inside your aching hole, now hitting that certain spot just right.
Just a little later, your mind goes completely blank, the sight of the darkness inside Chan’s eyes hidden, when the white sparkles fill your vision instead. The feeling takes over your whole body, legs shaking, when you reach that sweet relief. You cry out his name, forgetting any other syllable you’ve ever known. Almost struggling to catch your breath, Chan helps you ride out your high.
Painfully slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you, watching you squirm at the loss of contact. He licks his fingers clean, making sure to let his eyes stay on your own.
You feel hypnotised.
You feel drunk.
“Hmm, still so confident that you don’t like me back, huh?” he teases you.
Like him back?
Well, you aren’t surprised he must at least find you attractive. Otherwise, Chan probably wouldn’t have eaten you out like a starving man. But you weren’t aware that there are feelings that are thrown into the mix.
“Like you back?”
“Don’t you remember what you said last night?”
Is this about the confession while Yeji was with you or did you…
Oh, the memories are slowly coming back now. You said something to him after accusing him of leaving, after pouring your heart out to him.
Did you, perhaps, tell him more?
“W-What?”
“Right before you fell asleep you confessed that you have romantic feelings for me, honey,” he says, shamelessly clicking his tongue.
“I…” 
You don’t know what to say, so the logical solution is to catch his lips in a heated kiss instead. You pull him closer, tasting yourself on his tongue but you don’t mind. He gives in for a solid minute, until he stops, knowing he has to speak further first.
“I told you before—well, you were asleep—but I return the feelings.”
You gasp. It’s now or never. There’s no reason to hold back anymore.
“Channie… I’m in love with you, have been all this time.”
There appears the brightest smile his face has ever experienced.
“I’m in love with you… have been even before that first kiss together,” he admits.
“You… what?”
Even in the weak light of the LED lanterns, you can still make out that cute pink curtain on his cheeks.
“I was scared… so I decided to hide my feelings but I’m done with hiding now.”
He kisses you then and you give in completely.
Fuck. You can’t believe this is happening.
He loves you back? He’s loved you all this time? You’re so happy that you don’t even care that it took you seven years to realise. 
Your childhood friend turned lover stops the kiss for a second, as he gets back in a seating position. Chan suddenly takes off his tank top, revealing his stunning chest to you.
As well as something else.
The necklace.
He’s wearing it.
That’s what makes you take off your shirt and your bra, too, revealing the metallic chain and pendant to him.
“You’re wearing the necklace?”
“I thought you would have noticed sooner.”
And he kisses you again, enjoying how beautiful you look underneath him, until a clicking sound startles you.
The magnets inside the pendants make the necklaces connect. You’ve expected them to not work anymore after storing the chain wherever for over five years.
“Fuck, I love you so much. I’m gonna show you, baby.”
And, oh God, that’s exactly what he does. His fingers are right between your legs again, playing sensually with your clit, as his tongue is attached to your tits, making out with one of the hardened buds.
But you need more and you need it now.
“Channie?”
He looks up for a second, “Yeah?”
“I need you… need you inside me.”
Chan wastes no time and takes off his remaining clothes, as you watch his length spring free. He’s pretty—maybe a bit above average but the girth is what basically makes you drool at the sight. The tip is already covered in precum, telling you to not wait any longer.
You ask him to come closer, but Chan still has something on his mind.
“I– I don’t have a condom with me right now… it’s in the trunk in my backpack but I can–“
“I have an IUD. If that’s okay with you,” you offer.
“Of course, dear.”
He’s positioning himself between your legs again, reaching for his length and stroking it a few times. Chan could get lost in the look you have on your face—desperately waiting for him to bury his cock inside you. Your fingers wander down to your heat, playing a little with your clit and that’s when he knows he won’t have you wait any longer.
The tip circles around your wet entrance, before he pushes only a few centimetres in first, watching you get used to the feeling. When you nod, he enters further, until he bottoms you out completely. You’re more than glad that he prepared you so well earlier.
After a quick kiss on your lips, he starts thrusting into you, observing every move and noise you make. You’re getting completely lost in the sensation, allowing him to take care of your body.
It doesn’t take long for the windows inside the car to gain a foggy layer from all the panting. Chan positions your legs over shoulders, similar to how he did earlier, as his hand wanders towards your chest.
He squeezes one of your breasts for a little, before his fingers travel further, circling around your throat, adding pressure to the sides. What a beautiful view—he’s dreamt about this so many times. Having you underneath him. Having full control over you and your body.
“Channie– fuck–“ you let out.
His cock is brushing that spot inside you again, it’s as if he’s fucked you a thousand times before.
And you feel so deliciously warm and tight around him, Chan for sure can’t get enough of your cunt.
He has to make sure you remember this. Even now that you’re finally his, he wants to hear those words coming from you.
“Who do you belong to, hm?” 
Fuck. That possessive side is something you sure can’t get enough of.
“I– fuck–“
Chan’s initial idea was to make pure love to you, although he sensed you enjoy him being less gentle, as well. So, the roughness takes over him then. Passion and desire are marking his words.
“Say it, baby. Whose good little slut are you?”
Slap. His hand collides with your ass, when you don’t answer within a second.
“Y-Yours, Channie– yours,” you then immediately let out. You could get used to this side of him.
“Good girl.”
It happens in the blink of an eye, it was inevitable. Waves of pleasure are traveling through your body, conquering your whole existence. Chan holds you close, helping you through the overstimulating sensation of your second orgasm.
After you’ve begged him to cum inside, he then paints your walls, all with the prettiest whimper spilling from his plump lips. 
The necklaces stay connected throughout the entire unholy scene, reminding you that this was indeed meant to be.
Once you’ve both come down from your high, Chan pulls out of you. He watches the mixture of his liquids spill out of your hole, before he brings two fingers right there, scooping up some of the droplets and guiding them towards your mouth.
You obediently lick them clean, before he places a gentle kiss on your lips.
“Y/N?”
“Hm?”
He takes a deep breath, “I’ve always wanted to be your first, to be honest.”
“Yeah… me, too,” you confess.
“But that doesn’t matter.” Another kiss on your forehead. “‘Cause I’ll be your last.”
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💚AUTHOR'S NOTE: *taps on mic* is this thing on? yeah, hi I'm back. This fic had been chilling in my drafts half-chilling for the past few months and I am a dramatic libra so that's the first thing I post. I hope you guys have been well and enjoying your summer (or winter for my beloveds who live on the southern hemisphere and yes I know it's ironic I post a New Zealand summer story in August pls don't cancel me). I hope you enjoyed this one, I feel a bit insecure this time, if I'm completely honest with you. Please consider reblogging and/or commenting, if you want to give something back to the author! Messages via asks are fine, too. Lots of love and take care!
© j-0ne25 2023 | copying, translating or stealing my work is prohibited
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rrickgrrimes8 · 1 year
Text
Your Bear Part II
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summary: you are found (part I)
Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x niece!reader
warnings: angst, reunion, violence, infected, happy ending :))
not sure if i like this as much as the first part but i hope yall do. i just want to thank you all for the response to my past few fics (especially your bear). its been unreal. i stopped writing for a while and these were my first ones back so this was an insane response to it! thank you so much for your love and appreciation it really does mean a lot!
also! i tagged basically everybody who left a comment asking for part 2 - sorry if thats annoying idk ive never done a taglist before. thanks for the comments tho :) 
masterlist
request guidelines (new)
requests are open
word count: 2.3k
22 Years Ago...
The world around you screamed for help. People ran around, skin on fire, missing massive chunks.
You wailed as they passed, hands tightened around your ears. You just wanted to find help. You wanted to save Sarah. This wasn’t what you expected.
“D-ad,” You cried, hiccupping, “D-addy!” You missed his touch. You missed his voice and his face. His laugh. You just wanted your daddy.
But which way had you come from?
You stood, idle, in an alley way you didn’t recognize, a man lay a few feet beside you. Blood seeped from his neck, running to kiss the tips of your shoes.
He twitched.
Your breath caught in your throat, the hair on your neck stood high. “D-daddy,” You whimpered, quieter than before, “Please.”
He looked at you now. His face grotesque, the shape of jagged teeth marked his greyish skin. White, stringy tendrils extended out of his mouth as he crawled to you – his legs being left behind as he did.
You screamed when his nails scratched against your shoe. In the panic, your bear fell from your grasp, landing in the bloodbath.
You tried backing up from the monster, but his hand stopped you. His claws captured your ankle.
You didn’t realise you were falling until your back hit the wet ground. You let out a shriek as he trailed up your body. “P-please,” You sobbed, “D-ad! D-addy!”
The creature didn’t even flinch. He opened his jaws further, searching for your small neck, ready to mark you just as he had been.
But a shot sounded off and his weight settled on your petite body.
A strong force tugged him off you, the same force pulling you into their arms. You wailed, fighting against the stranger’s grip.
“It’s okay, sweetgirl, you’re okay,” She told you, rushing you away from the scene, “You’re going to be okay; I promise.”
x
You didn’t know what to make of Jackson. It was nice, you supposed. Weird though. It felt like what you imagined before felt like. Not that you remembered much. You remembered how loud cars were, how the TV remote worked, how to strum a guitar.
You remembered your sisters voice, her hair, how smart she sounded even if you didn’t understand a word.
You wished you remembered your dad. He was a blur to you. Like you had missed a chapter of a book and now a new character had no face. You remembered his laugh though. It was sweet, slow. Like a lullaby. You recalled being held to his chest and feeling the vibrations.
You wished you remembered your dad. 
Sarah had settled in quickly, at least that’s what you thought. She was happy to be around people other than her mom (you tried not to internalise it all that much).
In the week since you arrived Sarah had grown attached to the strangers that took you under their wing. You still weren’t so sure. But when Sarah made grabby hands to the older man and all she got was a dejected smile in response a part of you hurt. You didn’t understand why.
They’d kept their distance or rather he had. Ellie came round every day. She loved Sarah. She loved you, even if, like Joel, you were a little rough around the edges.
But for a reason unbeknownst to you Joel couldn’t be in a room with you for longer than five minutes. You didn’t let it bother you too much. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to make trouble and get the pair of you kicked out or worse separated. 
Ellie had come to you earlier that day, smile wide, cheeks rosy. She had a glint in her eyes, a plan. One you really didn’t want to know about nor be a part of.
Excitedly, she told you about the couple who lived across from her and Joel - his brother. Tommy and Maria and the somewhat new addition of Lily, their little girl. Ellie had told them about you - although missing out some of the major minor details. They agreed to have you over she had said. And despite the age difference between Lily and Sarah the older girl was excited to meet her.
So, there you stood, Sarah shielded from the cold into your chest. You raised your hand awkwardly, knocking a little harder than you expected.
A woman opened the door. She was beautiful, smiley, friendly. You couldn’t tell if that was a façade or not. That made the nerves in your stomach stiffen. “C’mon in, sweetheart,” Maria ushered you inside after she confirmed it was you.
You forced a smile for her, “Nice place.”
Maria nodded, looking around the room proudly, “Thank you.” She urged you to take a seat, letting you know her husband, Tommy, was just dressing Lily.
“So, you’re younger than I thought you would be,” She confessed, “Not to be rude or anything.”
“No, it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, sitting opposite her, Sarah making a home on your lap, “I’m 27.”
“Wow,” She smiled, “And what about her?”
You stroked the top of Sarah’s head, where her hair had slightly begun to grow, “Couple weeks now.”
Maria shifted ever so slightly in her seat, unspoken sympathy in her eyes, “And the father?” You stilled, escaping her gaze you looked towards the coffee table, taking inventory of the odd books they had. “I’m sorry,” She spoke quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“N-no,” You cleared your throat sheepishly, “There isn’t... her dad did what he had to.” You still remembered his screams.
“I’m sorry,” Maria frowned, hands soothing over her jeans, wishing Tommy would appear to aid the situation.
“Don’t be,” You said earnestly, “He got us here, right? One way or another...” Maria wasn’t sure you really meant that. The lost look in your eyes told her what she needed to know. As did your shaking knee. You’d give anything to have him back. She bit her lip, somewhat guessing the rest.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” A males voice cut through the tension, “Wouldn’t stop squirming for the life of me.”
Maria chuckled opening her arms to grab Lily, introducing you as she did. He blanched hearing that name. He near screamed seeing that face - your face but so much different, so much more mature.
Tommy blinked a few times, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. He whispered your name carefully, as if you were a wild animal, prone for violence.
Maria gave him an odd look, moving Lily over to you and Sarah. “And this is our sweetheart, Lily,” She told you as Lily began fussing relentlessly in her arms, desperate to touch the baby.
“Baby,” She cooed.
“Yeah, that’s right,” You mused, croakily, inching closer to the pair, “This is Sarah, Lily.”
Tommy wanted to throw up. He felt it dancing up his throat, teasing his uncertainty. He felt stuck. He truthfully didn’t know what to do or what to say. Should he straight out ask you? You didn’t seem to recognise him though. Maybe it was a clone? A doppelgänger? Should he run over to Joel’s for safety away from this confusion? 
Joel.
Did Joel know? He had to know. He needed to know.
“Tommy what’s wrong?” Maria called to him. He choked a little, eyes trailing over to the plaque that watched over their new life. The plaque he knew had no place for your name. He knew it. You were here.
Maria followed his gaze, a weird feeling in her chest as she saw her husband so unlike himself. She read Joel’s daughter’s name. Sarah. Was he freaked out because they shared the same name?
She gulped - it wasn’t just the baby whose name was shared but yours too it seemed. You couldn’t be, right? No- You died. Joel was so sure you died and despite all Tommy had told her, all the hope he had for you, she always found herself on Joel’s side. Funny that. Any other situation she would’ve made a point to oppose the eldest Miller.
But now... You were just five. You couldn’t have survived on your own. You wouldn’t have had a life in this world.
But again, hadn’t you said you were 27?
“Go,” She told him, firmly, “Make sure.” Tommy nodded, failing to hide his tears as you watched in confusion and darted out of the room with a sense of urgency that unsettled your stomach.
“Is everything okay?”
Maria’s attention snapped back to you, “Fine... everything’s fine.”
A disconcerting feeling swam under your skin and a sudden resolve to flee hit you. “I- We should probably go,” You mumbled, bringing Sarah to your chest once more.
“Wait, please,” She attempted, “Just wait.”
You shook your head, apologising softly before rushing out of the house. You caught eyes with two men across the road - Joel and Tommy. They stood on his porch, seemingly arguing with each other.
You spotted Ellie watching through the window, a guilty look on her face - what had she done?
The brothers stared at you as you left the home. Their eyes didn’t leave you for a second. Tommy called your name, desperately but when he moved to catch up with you, Joel pulled him back.
He clenched his jaw as you rushed back to your home, out of sight. “She was my niece, Joel,” He scowled, “My fuckin’ family too.”
Joel shook his head, shaking off the shame Tommy was trying to force on him.
“You don’t get to keep this kind of thing from me,” He yelled, “You- You are unbelievable, Joel.”
“Unbelievable?” He mocked, “Is it so unbelievable that I didn’t want to advertise to the whole goddamn town that she was my daughter when, hell, I don’t even know if she really is!”
“Bullshit,” Tommy spat, “You’re not stupid. You knew. Of course, you fucking knew. You knew like how I knew. One look. That’s all it woulda took you. No… you knew. You were just too scared - like always. And that, your selfishness, takes us all down with you.”
“Fuck you,” He grunted, storming back inside.
“Christ,” Tommy mumbled, turning back to his own home. 
You had a baby.
You were here, alive.
x
You steered clear from the group for a little while afterwards. The whole situation made you heart clench. It felt like a game that you didn’t know the rules of, but they did. All of them did and they were careful not to reveal anything. But you wanted to know - you needed to.
You knew it involved Joel or at least you felt like it had to. The way he looked at you when you first met. The way he spoke. The way he shook. It had to be him. He had to be the answer.
You gave up on your attempts to avoid them when you came to that realisation.
The same realisation that brought you here, at his front door in the middle of the night. You shyly knocked a few times - no response. You repeated the action with a little more force, a little too much. The door creaked open on the contact, but no one came to greet you.
You sucked in a harsh breath as you debated entering. The door was open right? Fair game? Silently you forced yourself to step inside.
Their home was dark - one lamp lighting a whole room. You frowned looking over to it. Someone had to be here, right? Where else would they be so late?
And then you saw him. Joel. The contradictory man. He was asleep. His body was sprawled all over the couch, an empty bottle of God knows what lay beside him as did what looked like... a bear?
Shakily, you took a step forward, his name dying in your throat as you saw the bear in a better light.
It was... yours.
Why would Joel have your bear? The bear that when you were a child was essentially an extension of you. The bear that chased away all the bad dreams. The bear that your dad had gotten you - your dad.
You gulped - the bear you hadn’t seen since the night you lost everything. Since the night you almost lost your life.
Joel shifted in his sleep, pulling the bear close to his chest, careful of its head as if it was a baby. Your eyes burned. A gasp escaped your lips. You could read the chapter now. You can see that character’s face - your fathers face.
Different but the same.
“D-dad,” You whispered before you could stop yourself and backed away.
Your back met the door, slamming it shut. The man jolted awake, alarmed eyes frantically searching the room before landing on you. They grew small, weaker, like he wasn’t all the way there.
Joel watched you closely, taking note of your falling tears, he spoke your name. You choked on a sob, hand clasping over your mouth. “Baby,” He shot up before he had a moment to think and approached you.
You didn’t flinch away, like he expected. You didn’t stop crying either. You studied him now. The wrinkles. The scars. The grey hairs. The same look in his eyes.
“How long have you known?”
He flinched at that. Your voice so familiar, so broken. “Since we met,” He didn’t have to try too hard to understand what you were getting at. He felt shameful, though. This shouldn’t have been the way, right? This felt too casual, too unknown.
You wanted to ask more, yell at him. Beg him to tell you why it wasn’t the first thing that he told you. But you didn’t. Instead you put one foot in front of the other, until you were mere inches from him. “Dad,” You shuddered.
He hadn’t realised how much he missed being called that, how much he missed being your dad.
“Babygirl,” He took your face in his hands, “My baby grown up.” He watched you closely, tears welling up, “I’m so sorry, babygirl. I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, slamming yourself into his chest, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“Oh, baby,” Joel wrapped his arms around you, hand cradling the back of your head.
“With me, babygirl,” He smiled for moment before letting it fall, “Don’t go away again, babygirl, never go away again.”
You smiled into his chest, whimpering softly, “I won’t, dad, I promise.” 
x
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arminsumi · 7 months
Note
hellooo to you, i’d like a suguru pls, post premature death suguru meeting a ‘monkey’ that he falls in love with, hence he have another reflection.. maybe jujutsu sorcerers’ job is indeed to protect them..
CHANGE OF HEART.
𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑 ⋅ fem reader
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NOTE: idk how 3.4k words happened 🤷‍♀️ i just got rlly into this idea ty for your requesttt!! and i'm so sorry if u didn't want smut but the scene kinda just happened 😭 it's pretty vanilla tho i think?? i put a little forewarning before the scene just in case u strictly don't want to read it
🔞 mdni / 18+ content
SUMMARY — Meeting you challenges the beliefs he thought he was so sure of. Unexpectedly falling in love with a 'monkey' causes Geto Suguru to have a change of heart.
WARNINGS — not proofread 😵‍💫 angst, 1 smut scene, lmk if i have missed a warning thank u
SMUT WARNINGS — solo scene in the shower, Geto fantasizing about you (bj, creampies)
WORDCOUNT ≈ 3.4k
PLAY ME ♪ black beauty
🍒 𝐉𝐚𝐲 ⋅ 𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬/𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭 !
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A question that springs to Geto Suguru’s mind when he meets you is where have you been all my life? Because if he would have met you sooner, his beliefs wouldn’t have solidified.
You’re talking animatedly about your passions over a steaming beverage, sitting opposite this dark-haired man. His features are brooding and he’s rather unapproachable, or so he thinks – but you find gentleness and calmness in his face; the way his brows have a subtle, sad arch to them, the way the sharpness of his eyes contrasts beautifully to the softness of his cheeks. He’s always loathed his beady eyes and babyish cheeks, so it’s a pleasant shock to hear you flippantly compliment them.
“Why did you come to sit with me?” he asks curiously, fingertip caressing the rim of the ceramic coffee cup.
You think for a second, then speak your mind, “You looked approachable.”
Such an unexpected response. He’s intrigued. How could you possibly think he is approachable? He’s sure that if you’d known what he’s done, you’d never say that – you’d never sit for coffee with him at this cafe.
“Am I?” he tilts his head at you in response, “That’s a first. Lots of people in my life have told me that I’m unapproachable. And they avoid me.”
“How could anyone avoid you! You’re very – well, sorry if this sounds too forward – but you’re very alluring.”
Suguru arches his brow. Another unexpected response. You’re captivating him the more you speak.
“Thank you.” He responds earnestly, cool soft voice wafting through your chest, “Though that is quite forward.”
He wonders if his subtle teasing tone gets through to you. Your coy smile tells him that it did. He seems very captivated now, his abyssal black eyes are absorbing your features like they’re an artful masterpiece, like an Edo period piece of work that one can’t stop looking at admiringly.
Just when he feels his intrigue and curiosity for you reach its peak, he recoils; he completely shells himself, as if he was ashamed to have let himself become to enraptured by one of them.
There’s a long silence, you don’t notice that his opinion of you has shifted, you don’t even notice the slight scowl tugging at the corners of his lips. Because he masks it well.
“I have to be somewhere.” He excuses vaguely – it’s not uncommon to hear that from someone, so you don’t think much of it.
When talking with you for the past two hours, he seemed so appreciative that you sat with him and held good conversation, so you expected someone as direct as him to voice his thanks. A small thanks for having coffee with me, or a flippant thanks for sitting with me – nothing of the sort comes out of his mouth as he stands to leave.
You notice he only drank a sip of his black coffee this whole time. He must have been very captivated indeed, to not even enjoy his beverage.
It would have been easier to keep thoughts of you at bay had you not said goodbye to him as he left. Hearing your voice chime in his ear casts a spell over his mind.
He walks with his hands sunk deep in his pockets and heads to the subway station. Hesitant footsteps slow at the street where he said his last goodbye to his best friend just a few days ago. For a fleeting moment, Suguru is grateful for the resurgence of that tragic memory, because at least it drove you out of his mind.
But it is indeed just a fleeting moment, because once he descends into the subway station, his mind is refilled with thoughts of you. Your hair color. Your skin color. Your eye color. The clothes you wore. The scent lingering on them. The way you talked. How you spoke to him kindlier than anyone from the world outside Jujutsu High ever has. All he’s known before you is coldness and apprehensiveness.
He wonders, as he boards the train, if you would behave differently knowing that he’s a sorcerer. Knowing that he sees things as morbid as curses with his bare eyes. Knowing that he’s laid waste to a village of people. Knowing that he’s one of the strongest people in the world, and probably the strongest you’ll ever meet in your lifetime – unless you happen to come across Gojo Satoru someday.
He could kill you with a flick of his wrist if he wanted to.
As the train doors shudder shut behind him and he holds onto the dangling handles, he mutters a small “damn it…” under his breath. Because behind those eyes are waning beliefs, ones he was so sure about before you came along.
Suguru’s still thinking about you when he boards off the train and returns home to his apartment at nightfall. The rustling of the key in the door stirs the attention of his two little girls, and once it swings open, they burst with excitement at his arrival.
“We missed you!” they say almost in perfect harmony together.
“Missed you too, angels. Let’s get dinner cooking, hm? Mimiko, why do you have paint all over your cheeks? Ah – Nanako, no more painting for you. Yes, I’m making the rules. Treat your sister nicely and you can paint again.”
Suguru’s mind is temporarily cleared of you – but only temporarily, while he’s scrambling for ingredients around the tiny kitchen and patiently listening to childish chitchat. “No jumping in the kitchen – here, I’ll put you on the countertop – and uppp you go – stay there – Nanako, please don’t eat raw butter, it’s not funny. Give it here. Will you help me please?”
Soon there’s a simmering pot of food on the kotatsu table. There’s a storm coming, the girls cling to Suguru’s legs when he’s doing the dishes. “It’s just a thunderstorm coming, nothing to be afraid of, okay? Yes, I’ll read you to sleep. Nanako, please don’t bite my leg, it’s not funny – Mimiko don’t imitate your sister. Ah you two…”
He has the voice of a stressed-out father.
Droplets of soapy water drip off plates in the drying rack. Thunder rumbles outside the window. The wind swerving into the apartment’s living room feels cold when Suguru emerges from the girl’s bedroom – he heaves a sigh of relief knowing that they ate well and fell asleep soundly.
And it’s so cold in that apartment now.
She would be the warmth in the room.
It’s quiet, too.
Her voice would carry through this hallway like a serenade.
Suguru creeps into the shower, tripping on something the kids left laying around on his way to the bathroom.
⚠️ smut scene in case u want to skip
The drone of shower water fills his ears, he slowly peels off his sweater, giving a glance at the reflection of his physique in the body-length mirror. He’s never looked at his body with so much thought before.
Would she caress my chest like this?
One foot enters the shower, another followers. The door shuts and the glass steams up.
Does her mouth feel as soft as the words that come out of it?
He lets out a low groan. Rivulets of water run down his body.
She’d feel better than my hand. She’d take care of me.
Suguru’s hands trace up his chest and neck, his mind imagining it as your hand – he’s mimicking his imagination, picturing how sensual and gentle your touch would be. Your fingers wouldn’t be calloused like his, they’re small.
He lets himself get completely lost in a fantasy of you and him standing together under the showerhead, bodies close and heating up together. Without realizing, he’s lathering up his body with soap with slow, sensual movements. His hand grazes over his cock, it’s standing up and jumping a little at the thought of your face. Before he knows it, he’s slowly pumping his cock and tilting his head off to the side in pleasure.
Pretty sultry eyes flutter shut and his tip twitches. He squeezes and releases, imagining how you’d tease around. Or maybe you were inexperienced – now that thought gets him excited, it leads his fantasy into another direction. If he could have one night with you, he’d show you exactly what he likes and how he wants you to pleasure him. Maybe one night would turn into multiple nights, or entire weekends spent with him.
He lets out a shaky breath and presses on palm flat against the shower’s tile wall, bowing his head, lips parted with gentle, breathy moans escaping them – but both the sounds of the rainstorm and the shower drown them out.
A murky idea of what you look like naked and wet in the shower is hot on his mind. He rolls his thumb over the tip of his cock, leaving a small trail of soapy bubbles. His shaft’s gotten all lathered up, the sound of squelching barely reaching his ears. It makes him think of how you’d sound when he’s pumping his cock inside of you.
Would you be able to take it all? He looks down at it and contemplates that. How tight would you be? Would he cum boyishly soon if he sunk inside your gummy walls? If he went faster like this, would you become a mess underneath him? Would you want him to cum inside?
He’s a simple man when he’s so close to orgasming right there in his shower, the image of you taking his creampie makes him orgasm.
There’s a gentle rumble of thunder that covers up a loud moan that escapes his throat. He’s never moaned like that before. And he’s never cum so hard before, either – usually it’s a few watery shots of cum, not thick white ropes like this.
Does he feel guilty when cleaning his cum up the shower wall? A little bit.
“Damn it…” he mutters disappointedly.
⚠️ smut scene over
When he wraps a towel around his waist and looks into the mirror at his long hair, he wonders how you ever thought he looked approachable. If anything, he looked intimidating and cold.
That long shower fantasy of you only temporarily sates his mind. Letting his body fall into his bed with a soft thump, he sinks into the mattress. He rolled onto his side and started thinking of you again. This time, he replays everything that happened in those two hours at the café. He replays parts of the conversation like it was his favorite movie, until he fell asleep.
“You’re very alluring.” He thought of those words you said to him.
A subtle smile tugged at his lips.
***
Days pass. Suguru purposefully strides past the café and takes a glimpse into the windows to check if you’re there. When you’re not, he frowns and keeps walking. When you are, his eyes light up ever so slightly and his feet seem to carry him over to you – even though his mind screams at him to stop. This is madness. You’re supposed to be the very thing he hates, but he can’t bring himself to.
Because you’re dreamy. Or at least that’s the effect you have on him.
Each time he sees you at the café, he realizes more and more how weak and clumsy you are. Slowly, those traits become endearing to him. It irks him to feel this growing compulsion to protect you.
The tide of his mind completely turns over when he walks you home one day. A little curse had been clinging to your arm, cruelly giggling with its morbid little face.
How dare you? He eyes it out and watches you obliviously massage your arm, trying to alleviate the tension.
Suguru could have made two possible decisions; exorcise it or leave it. In other words, turn back on his beliefs or recede back into them completely, never to reemerge.
You massage your arm again, and at the moment you turn away from your apartment’s door, Suguru engulfs you in a very random, very soft hug. Widening your eyes, you’re unsure how to reciprocate for a moment. You hear him swallow.
Oh, is he nervous to be hugging me? Does he have a boyish crush on me? That’s unexpected of a mature man like him.
That’s what you’re obliviously thinking.
Suguru stifles a sigh. Part of him wishes you never hugged him back. But he can’t deny the rush he feels through his veins. Your warm, embrace is something he never knew he needed so badly until he got it.
That moment sets him on fire, he feels electric when he walks back home.
“Damn it…” he mutters with a small smirk playing at his lips – one that’s very similar to how he used to smirk with Satoru.
***
Months pass, and you start regularly visiting each other’s apartments. Tokyo is cramped, the word spacious never crosses your mind when you walk into someone else’s home. But Suguru’s apartment felt smaller than the others, because he had two balls of energy running around like chaotic demons. Lovably chaotic demons. Two twin girls, they’re celebrating their fifth birthday and you’re in the kitchen with Suguru baking a cake for them. It was your idea. And though you had to practically drag Suguru by the arm to get him to bake a cake, he was very willing to help out.
Nanako keeps trying to spook you, and you pretend to die of a heart attack – it makes her giggle. Mimiko pretends to be a spider crawling up your back, you also pretend to be scared – and she responds with a cheeky “I’m not actually a spider, I fooled you!”
“Girls, please give Y/n and I some alone time.” Suguru tells them after they become a bit much. Adults can only deal with so much, some relaxation is eagerly sought after.
“Is Y/n gonna be our mommy?” Nanako asks before leaving the kitchen. Her and Mimiko both look at you two expectantly.
Suguru is completely caught off guard by this question, but you laugh.
“Let us be, Nanako.” He speaks without composure, so shaken up and embarrassed. When was the last time he blushed to boyishly?
The twins scamper out the kitchen and into their own little kid’s world, roaming the house as if it was full of secrets they had to discover.
“Sorry, they’re quite outspoken for their ages.” Suguru refuses to look at you anymore, his heart is thumping in his chest. What if you wanted to be their mom? It’s a cute thought that occupies his mind as he talks to you.
“They’re the sweetest.” You sigh adoringly, “Really, the sweetest. It reminds me, had a friend once who ran a kindergarten, and I stood in for her one spring while she was on sick leave. There was this very sweet little boy who followed me around like a puppy. Working there for a little while made me realize how much I want to have kids and a family.” You talk while mixing ingredients into a bowl, stirring up the batter until it’s creamy and smooth.
Suguru’s listening attentively. He’s watching your gentle movements interestedly. Were you gentler in his presence? He wonders what you’re like when you’re annoyed. When you wake up, how cute is your bleary-eyed face?
“You’re good with kids.” Suguru compliments.
“Thank you.” You smile a bit bashfully. “Though, now that I think about it, there was also this kid at that kindergarten that would try to bite me all the time. An absolute menace.”
Suguru lets out a laughing breath through his nose.
“Yeah, Nanako has tried to bite Mimiko many times. The first time it happened, she screamed herself blue and I had absolutely no idea what to do.” Suguru spoke, “By the way, d’you need help – ? M’kay, if you say so. I’m right here. Anyways… she bit her so hard it left a bite mark.”
“Oh yeah, I know what you’re talking about, alright. That sucker left a bite mark on my thigh – I’ve still got the scar.” You tell him.
Suguru’s mind lights up when you so flippantly mention your thigh. He can’t help himself. He’s starting to want more, his whole body craves proximity – that’s why, while you put the cake in the oven, he discretely inches closer to where you stand. Arms crossed over his broad chest, hair up in a neat bun – he only realized just then how you have such a positive effect on him. He hadn’t put such deep care into his appearance since before…
“Suguru? Are you okay?”
“Huh? Yeah. Just thinking.”
“You must have a lot to be thinking about. Your face looks so severe… I want to knead out the severity.” You tease.
He loves the way you speak. He loves the subtle playful teasing you do every now and then, it shows him that you’re getting comfortable around him like he is around you.
“Sorry. I’m just a brooding type.” He smirks at you, shifting his body so that he leans comfortably against the counter.
“What are you brooding on?” you ask him curiously.
It makes his heart lurch that you care, that you’re genuinely curious about what’s going on behind those abyssal black eyes of his.
“I don’t want to bring down the mood.”
“You won’t bring down the mood. What’s on your mind? I’m not the best at advice… in fact I’m shit, but I’m a good listener… so indulge me.” You encourage him, attempting to hop up on the kitchen countertop to sit comfortably.
His heart feels stabbed and twisted all of a sudden. But he smirks, sees you struggling to climb a countertop, and comes to help you. Big hands grab at the back of your thighs as he leans down, cheek brushing with your cheek for a moment, before he hoists you up himself.
“Thank you.” You smile at him, veiling your nervousness.
His body feels hotter after he pulls away. But he acts coolly, resuming his nonchalant pose of leaning against the countertop with crossed arms.
“I fell out with an old friend.” He begins simply. It’s laughable, saying that out loud – you have no idea of the severity, of the drama. “We were like yin and yang.” He desperately tries to add a layer of depth to give you a better picture.
“Did something happen between the two of you?” you inquire.
Suguru thinks back on that day. “Yeah. We had a disagreement. And… I think… I’ve finally started to regret walking away from him.” He admits.
That admittance unexpectedly makes his throat constrict and his eyes line with tears. He blinks them away quickly.
“Why did you walk away?” you tilt your head.
I wonder what she’d think if I told her every detail.
“We have differing beliefs about… something. I can’t describe it sensibly to you.”
You look at him interestedly. “Beliefs? Like about religion?”
“I guess kind of like that…? Not religion, but something as serious as that.”
“If you regret walking away from him,” you begin, speaking your train of thought, “why don’t you come back to him and tell him that? Or would that be a bad idea? I don’t know… it just seems like you miss whoever this person is.”
You render him speechless and he looks at you like you just unravelled a secret part of him that no one had seen before.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”
“Thank you. I needed to hear that. I think I’ll… uh, give him a call sometime and see him for coffee.” Suguru says decidedly.
Was he really going to do that? Before meeting you, he couldn’t fathom facing Satoru again. It was a mortifying idea. He crushed his best friend’s spirit, how could he face him again?
“Sounds good… you could meet him at the café we go to.” You say.
Suguru’s half lost in thought and staring at the kitchen floor tiles. “Yeah… hey, can I ask you a personal question?”
“Absolutely.”
He chokes up a bit, darting his eyes around, as if searching carefully for his words. When he looks at you, he completely forgets what he was going to ask. His heart is beating like he was just about to confess to his high school sweetheart.
Suguru takes a deep inhale.
“I think the cake is burning.”
“Oh shit!”
***
Satoru scoffs bitterly over his beverage.
“I’m serious, Satoru.”
A pair of striking blue eyes meet abyssal black ones.
“What changed your mind...?” Satoru comments in a softer tone after hearing his old friend call his name so tenderly.
“Something good happened.” Suguru subtly smiles, the memory of meeting you in this same café flashing across his mind.
A silence comes over them, and slowly the tension works out of their air, an understanding replacing it.
“Maybe we are supposed to protect them, after all… damn monkeys, look at ‘em so helpless.” Suguru chuckles, half-joking as he watches a baby start to cry in its mothers arms on the street outside.
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© 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄.
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mrs-kmikaelson · 8 months
Text
Braver Together
(Should've Known Better Part Two)
Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x reader, Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Hope Mikaelson x mother-figure!reader Summary: Ever since your heart was broken, you became scared of love altogether, but then the most unexpected thing happens and you realize that there was no point in being alive if you weren't living. So you force yourself to face your fears and start being brave... with some help, of course. Warnings: very long, mentions of cheating, angst (with more fluff tho imo), complicated relationships, death, ofc violence, and i totally bend the tvd-originals timeline Words: 10.6K
Masterlist
a/n is at the end of the post.
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When you accepted Klaus’ proposal a thousand years ago, you could’ve never imagined that your life would end up the way it would. For a long time, you were happy, maybe even the happiest girl in the world. It didn’t matter if your family was dead—the Mikaelsons became your family. And for a while, that was fine with you, but now it just felt like torture to be with them every single day.
But you supposed that you signed your life away when you married your husband.
His infractions amazed you, but you still didn’t leave him, even when every bone in your body begged you to. It was the little things, like watching Hope smile as she opened presents on Christmas morning, that made you feel like it was worth it.
You had grown attached to her. While you still weren’t the best of friends with her mother, you remained civil for her. After all, you were both stuck in this family with no way of escaping, so you found it pointless to continue to ignore her.
Klaus, however, was much more deserving of your ignorance, but like Hayley, you pushed that to the side. Your feelings didn’t matter when their child was involved. Even though you weren’t her mother, Hope felt like a daughter to you. Her name was so fitting; she really was this family’s last hope, and she was definitely yours.
Over the years you had, you managed to mend your relationship with Rebekah, even if it was never really the same as it was before. You were no longer running around Chicago together, dancing the night away, but now you had responsibilities to care for and hurt in your hearts. Rebekah had always been a child of sorts, but coming back to this city forced her to grow up. In a way, you supposed you did, too.
Elijah and you were better after that talk you had that one Christmas Eve, not as good as before, but better, and for the time being, that was good enough.
Sometimes, as you were playing with Hope in the living room, your siblings surrounding you, you lied to yourself and pretended you were a family again. But you knew better now. You’d been here before already.
But then something happened, something that almost made that lie feel real.
You walked into the Abattoir with a wide smile on your face, a sight that’d become rare to see. But when you were with Hope, it was impossible for the corners of your lips not to go up. She was giggling at something you said, but, looking back, you couldn’t even remember what it was.
There were shopping bags in your hands. You just took her out to get clothes for her first time at school. You were expecting to see the family seated on the couches, prepared to watch her “runway” her new wardrobe.
Instead, you were met with an apparent crisis. Rebekah sat on the couch, hand cupped over her mouth in shock, tears in her eyes. Hayley stood off to the side, glancing in between Elijah and Klaus, the former staring pointedly at an unknown man whose back was turned to you and the latter with his arms crossed, also staring at said man.
At your entrance, Hayley looked over to you, seeming to let out a breath, as if she was thankful to have a reason to leave the situation. “Mommy, mommy!” Little Hope waved Hayley over, even though she was already walking in your direction. “Me and Auntie Y/N/N bought pretty clothes! Wanna see?”
“Yes, sweetheart, just after your father and Uncle Elijah work this out.” She picked the child up, glancing your way with a sort of warning in her eyes, nodding over to where the rest of the family stood before she looked back to Hope. “For now, why don’t we get you in the bath?”
Hope groaned in protest, making you smile in amusement, but Hayley paid no mind to this, taking her upstairs. Your smile was immediately wiped away. The look the werewolf gave you suggested that something was going on, something she didn’t want Hope to be apart of. The rest of the Mikaelsons hadn’t taken their attention off the man they were staring at for even a second, worrying you.
So, you placed the shopping bags you were holding down next to the gate, walking towards them with your arms held out. “What’s going on?” You asked, but no one turned to answer you. Your brows furrowed. Just as you were about to ask again, the mystery man turned around and it was like the wind was knocked out of you instantly.
Standing right in front of you was no stranger. It was Kol Mikaelson.
For a moment, you almost forgot how to breathe. He gazed at you tenderly with an indecipherable look in his eye. Before you could get to even trying to figure it out, you jumped out of your shock and engulfed him into a tight hug that he quickly reciprocated. Tears leaked out of your eyes for the first time in years.
After a minute, you pulled away, patting his arms and looking him up and down, like you were trying to figure out if he was real. He looked just like Kol, just like your Kol. You pinched yourself, causing the man to let out a small chuckle.
“Oh, how I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he said, and you were gobsmacked because that was his voice, his voice that you hadn’t heard in years. As you realized this was real, that this was really Kol, you pulled him in for another hug. 
Kol was the one to pull away this time, cupping your cheeks with his hands and wiping your tears away. You opened and closed your mouth like a fish, trying to find the right words to use, trying to figure out what you even wanted to say. When he died, you felt like there was so much left unsaid, but now you didn’t know where to start. “How- how are you here?”
He softly smiled at you, so different in comparison to the usual Mikaelson smirk that you were used to. “I’m going to explain everything.”
All of a sudden, you heard a throat clear, reminding you of the others in the room that you’d somehow forgotten about. You looked behind Kol to see Elijah, straightening his cufflinks. “Yes, it appears that we all have a lot to discuss,” he remarked, almost looking uncomfortable. You then glanced to Klaus whose jaw was clenched. Rebekah was still in the same exact position as before, expressionless.
Kol guided you to the couch next to her, telling the brothers they should sit, too. And then he told you all the story of a lifetime.
You listened intently as Kol explained how he was alive. He said he had been on the other side, watching all of you every day. Hearing this made you tense as you wondered what he could’ve possibly seen or heard; you were embarrassed that he might’ve seen how Klaus treated you and how you stayed, but your mind didn’t linger on the subject for long as he continued with his story.
He said the other side started to fall apart, all thanks to the travellers and their sociopathic leader, Markos. You were surprised he was even real; when you came across travellers in the past, you thought they were insane, but it turned out that they actually had real power, enough to bring down a supernatural purgatory that had existed long before even your time.
Kol then said he went back to Mystic Falls after a witch told him that Bonnie Bennett had taken the place of the other side’s anchor. He explained how, following Stefan’s death, the scooby gang engaged in a plan to bring him and their other fallen friends back. 
“So I was stuck with my life in the witch’s hands.” He suddenly looked to you. “She refused at first, but when I mentioned you, she eased up and decided to let me through.” For some reason, this information made you freeze. You were stuck staring into Kol’s eyes until he eventually looked away, making you shake your head. “Whatever you said to her, Y/N, may have just saved my life.”
You knew what he was referring to. Long ago, when you were still in Mystic Falls, before Klaus cheated and before Kol died, you gave the Bennett witch some advice you thought she’d find useful. You told her not to let people walk all over her, to start living for herself.
How ironic was that?
It seemed that neither of you had followed this advice, though, because Bonnie was still stuck putting her life on the line for her friends and you still lived with your husband and his family.
Both of you were doing things that’d kill you eventually.
Maybe it already did.
After Kol’s story, you were all worn out, like each of you had lived through it yourselves. Even though you were exhausted, you were still ecstatic that Kol was alive, that your wishes had come true. When Rebekah got over her shock, you could tell she was happy too, and even Elijah had a ghost of a smile of his lips. But Klaus didn’t look as happy as you would’ve thought he’d be.
You didn’t mind this, ignoring it altogether, refusing to let anything ruin your good mood. That night, you went to bed happy in a house full of Mikaelsons.
The next day, when Kol met Hope, the smile that was already on your face got even wider. Oh, they would cause trouble together, you thought. The three of you spent the week together, sometimes including one of your other siblings. And for the first time since you were with that boy, you felt human again.
You could’ve never imagined this turn of events, Kol coming back to life, Klaus’ child being your salvation. But no longer could you imagine any what ifs, any other life for yourself. You didn’t wonder and wonder about what would’ve happened if Elijah let you go, if Klaus never found you. If you got the chance to go back, you didn’t even know if you would’ve done it all differently. That was saying something, but at the moment, it all felt like it was worth it.
There were so many questions you had for Kol, so many qualms you still had with your family, but for that week, you ignored it all. You could only focus on the influx of pure happiness you felt. You started living like you weren’t a thousand-year-old Original whose heart was broken and like you were gonna die the very next day.
And it was liberating.
But you knew better than to think you could live in paradise forever.
You and Kol lied on the grass of some hill he’d driven you to. You were surprised he even still knew his way around the city, but he was always one to surprise you.
You just stared up at the stars together in silence, a comfortable silence that didn’t feel like it was suffocating you. It was just the two of you, no Klaus, no drama, no anyone. It was just you and the stars.
Out of nowhere, Kol broke the silence, his voice just above a whisper. “My brother doesn’t deserve you.”
Your breath hitched, turning your head towards him, but his gaze was still aimed at the sky. Your perfect little moment was suddenly invaded by the thought of your husband who you’d been unknowingly avoiding in conversation with Kol altogether. Maybe he noticed that.
Maybe he noticed the way you and Klaus no longer touched, even though you couldn’t keep your hands off one another the last time he was alive. Maybe he really was watching you from the other side, and that terrified you.
You knew Kol held you on a pedestal, even if neither of you would ever acknowledge that. He thought you were so good, so strong, so it killed you to think that he saw you when you were most vulnerable. It killed you to think that he knew all of his brother’s indiscretions and how you stayed, anyway.
You knew better than that—no, you were better than that.
Kol went on, “He never has-”
This time, you cut him off, the shock wearing off. “Kol-”
“No, Y/N.” He finally stopped staring up at the stars, turning to look at you. You were expecting the disappointment, but you weren’t expecting the raw anger in his eyes, an anger that’d never been directed at you. But you know it wasn’t. “You were always too good for that bastard, too good for this entire fucking family.”
You tried to stop him, but he kept going every time you opened your mouth. “Here you are, raising a child that isn’t even yours for his sake. Even after what he did to you, what he kept doing to you, you stayed—because that is just how loyal you are and how loyal he isn’t.” He started laughing, but there was no trace of humour in it. “You have no idea how much I want to sock him every time I see him.”
“Kol-”
“You know there’s nothing you can say to make this better, Y/N.” That shut you up. “I’m not going to let you spin this just to spare my brother the trouble.” Oh, how embarrassed you felt. Klaus cheated on you over and over again, yet you still felt the need to defend him. 
Things were okay with Elijah and Rebekah because, even though they were there, they weren’t really there. They didn’t know how bad things were between you and Klaus, how it ate you alive, not even Rebekah who watched you break down and isolate yourself. But Kol- oh, Kol saw it all.
You swallowed, looking back up to the sky. “I’m sorry,” you whispered.
Never had you been turned so fast. When your eyes met Kol’s, they were fierce, but his voice softened. “Don’t ever apologize for him. Never again, not to me- not to anyone.”
You swallowed a second time, losing your words as you just stared into his eyes. You hadn’t seen him in so long; you forgot how well he knew you, how he was able to read you like a child’s book.
But Kol had gotten more complicated to you. Whenever you were around him, there was a new look that’d surface in his eyes. This look was like a passerby that you didn’t know but had seen before, a friend of a friend. This was a look you could not decipher, and currently, he was giving you that exact look.
For a long while, the two of you just looked at each other as if you were the stars you’d came all this way to see. The only things heard were crickets and the cars from the city until Kol’s voice sounded.
“I should’ve never let him do this to you,” he said. And you didn’t know what that meant.
But it didn’t matter.
Because, seconds later, you both got up and drove away.
This night hadn’t dampened your mood. There were so many things to be happy for. Years ago or even a week ago, you were depressed beyond words, but Kol coming back had filled a hole you’d thought would never go away. So even though this conversation stung, you were still okay.
When you got back to the compound, you both pretended he never said what he said. Kol went back to being his playful self, making jokes, and you went back to laughing at them.
It was like you’d been given a miracle. You never thought you’d feel like yourself again, and you didn’t really, but it was so close, as close as you’d been in a long time. 
You didn’t feel so alone anymore.
Every day started being spent with either Kol, Marcel, Hope, or sometimes even Rebekah. Life was as normal as it had ever been, as sunny as you’d ever seen the world—at least as sunny as your life has been in decades.
Until it started to rain.
You were in the kitchen of the Abattoir, looking through the cupboards to see what you could make. While none of you had to actually eat, Hope did, and so it’d become a staple in the Mikaelson house to have dinner every night. These dinners stopped being so awkward after a while.
Hayley and Eijah were at some werewolf meeting, Rebekah had taken Hope to buy school supplies, Kol was roaming around, and you suspected Klaus was out causing some sort of mayhem. You assumed you were alone in the house, but you were proven wrong.
Footsteps sounded behind you; you sensed him before you even turned around. Even though Klaus and you had gotten to a point of pleasantness, that didn’t mean you enjoyed being alone with him. 
A few years of pleasantness couldn’t erase the thousand years you’d spent together.
“Love,” he greeted, pulling out a barstool and sitting down, the kitchen island separating you. You lightly inhaled, turning to nod to him in acknowledgement.
You kept rummaging through the kitchen, trying your best to ignore your husband’s presence. Oh, Klaus hadn’t felt like your husband in so long, but what else could he possibly be to you?
You were trying so hard to be friends with him, but could you really be friends with the man you were in love with for a millennium? With the man who had hurt you more than anyone else ever had? You didn’t have an answer to that.
The two of you sat in silence. There was a point in time where silence between you both felt like a warm blanket, comfortable and safe, but now it felt ominous, like the calm before a storm. With Klaus, there was always a storm.
Just as you placed your final ingredients on the counter, he caught you off guard and asked, “What are you doing with my brother?” You quickly spun around, widening your eyes and narrowing them in the same sequence. This was a question, but it felt much more like a challenge.
Klaus was impassive, but you knew better than to actually believe that. However, you mirrored his expression, anyway. “What do you mean?” you quizzed. You tried to keep your voice devoid of emotion, but you couldn’t help the bite of annoyance that seeped through.
He clearly noticed this if the tick in his jaw was of any indication. “You and Kol, Y/N.” Your brows furrowed at his vague explanation, causing his eyes to roll. “Come on, don’t act as if you’re surprised. You had to have known that I’d ask eventually. You’re my wife.”
He stared firmly into your eyes. No, I’m not your wife, you wanted to scream, but you bit your tongue. You hoped that your gaze said it for you, anyway. Instead, you scoffed, “No, Klaus, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to say something, but you cut him off. “I’m not sure what insinuation you’re trying to make, but you need to cool it.”
You were fed up, and you could feel an argument on its way. Klaus and you hadn’t argued in a long time, but that didn’t mean you didn’t have things you wanted to say to him. You held your comments in for Hope’s sake, but if he wanted to poke the bear, then you’d make sure that the bear poked back.
This time, he scoffed, his calm façade falling apart as he snarked, “Oh, please, you can’t possibly be so naive.”
“There is nothing to be naive about, Klaus—there’s nothing going on between your brother and me.” And if there was, it wouldn’t be your business, you wanted to add, but you weren’t gonna add more fuel to the fire. You didn’t even know why your mind went there in the first place.
“Perhaps that’s what you think, Y/N, but I’ve seen the way my brother looks at you-”
“He doesn’t look at me in any way.”
“Yes, he does- and you’re fooling yourself if you think he doesn’t.”
There was a door in your mind that Klaus had opened with these remarks, a door you’d been scared to even go near. But you closed it right away, refusing to wonder about it. He was wrong. There was nothing going on between you and Kol.
Your eyes hardened and you snapped, “I don’t have the time nor do I have the patience to deal with another one of your paranoid episodes.” He scoffed again, but you paid it no mind. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have dinner to make.” You turned around, not caring to see Klaus’ expression. You heard the barstool screech against the floor and then his angry footsteps as he left the kitchen.
And just like that, that opened door was slammed shut.
You tried your hardest to ignore Klaus’ words, telling yourself it wasn’t true, that there was no way it could possibly be true, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You and Kol had always been close, but there was nothing that wasn’t platonic there. 
Or maybe you were wrong.
You had given up on love so long ago. You gave your lover your heart without a second thought and he threw it to the ground like it was nothing, like it wouldn’t shatter everywhere, like it was possible for you to ever recover from that. And then when you try and find happiness, he rips that away from you, too.
Klaus had blown out any spark you had, leaving you alone in the dark.
Was love worth it if felt like this?
You didn’t know. These weren’t questions you asked yourself when you said “I do.” You didn’t know what to do anymore.
So you did what you always did, stuffing your feelings away and acting like nothing was wrong. But something changed. Whenever you saw Kol after that, you felt something—something you couldn’t explain, something you couldn’t name. It was like you had felt this before, but just never noticed it.
This feeling lurked in the background for a while until it was pulled back to the forefront of your mind when you least expected it.
“Bloody hell,” you muttered, storming into the compound with Kol following soon after. Your language was partly ironic because bloody you were. Of course, not your blood, but you hadn’t been in this state in at least a century.
Safe to say, you didn’t miss it.
You had just killed a horde of witches. They were good opponents, strong, but nobody was ever really smart if they decided to go up against the Mikaelsons. Nothing was stronger than family, even if it didn’t always feel that way.
They wanted to go after Hope, but you would never let that happen—none of you would. So you killed them- slaughtered may have even been a better word to use. Some of them had their hearts taken, their limbs ripped apart, stakes stabbed into their chests; your family could get creative.
Elijah, Hayley, and Klaus were dealing with the mess while Rebekah was tending to Hope. They didn’t need anymore man-power, so Elijah told you both to go home and clean yourselves up. He didn’t have to tell you twice.
“Seems that this family can never escape a bloodbath,” he joked.
“Ugh, disgusting. I need a real bath.” You spun around, a dramatic look on your face. Kol chuckled. He was more at ease than you were; he got a meal out of it, but you preferred quick kills, so now you were just annoyed.
“If you weren’t my brother’s wife, I’d join you.” His tone was light and playful, teasing even, but there was a glint in his eye that made you think he wasn’t completely joking. Your mind went back to what Klaus said to you, about the way Kol looked at you, then you thought about everything he did to you, how he just discarded your vows like they were meaningless. 
Maybe, if you hadn’t just come from a fight, you would’ve laughed it off, but you were tired of thinking about what Klaus wanted. 
You shrugged. “Well, I don’t think I’ve been his wife for a long time now.” You maintained eye contact with Kol as he paused. The playful atmosphere disappeared and was replaced with tension.
A beat passed before he slowly responded, “Y/N, what are you trying to say?”
What were you trying to say? You didn’t know if you could put it into words. So you stepped forward, hearing his breath catch in his throat, putting a hand on his bicep. “I think you know what I’m trying to say.”
Another beat. And then the next thing you knew, Kol’s lips slammed onto yours. You were sped upstairs, immediately ripping his shirt off and letting it fall to the floor. Yours came off somewhere in the mix. You could taste the leftover blood on his lips, not enough to satisfy you, but just enough to leave you wanting more.
You didn’t know what you were doing, but it felt good. You never thought you’d feel anything remotely like this ever again, but now that you had it, who knew if you could ever let it go?
Kissing Kol was like drugs. Ecstasy raced through your veins. You didn’t know if you had ever felt anything like this before; if you had, then how was it possible that you let it slip through your fingers? No, this was unlike any experience you’d ever had.
He suddenly pulled away, heaving. You reached to pull him back in, but he stopped you, breathing, “Are you sure that you want this?”
You didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes- you have no idea how badly.” This clearly sufficed because he was back to kissing you the second you stopped talking, hands going to unclasp your bra.
Oh, at that moment, you couldn’t give a damn what Klaus thought.
And Kol made sure you didn’t think about Klaus for the rest of that night.
Kol made it feel like your first time all over again, like everything you felt was new and foreign to you, but by the time you were done, your body was anything but foreign to him. 
After multiple rounds and showering, you laid in your bed tired. You couldn’t remember the last time someone else laid with you. Part of you thought that, for some reason, Kol would leave, but he stayed right next to you, holding you in his arms.
You only had sex, but this felt like so much more than that.
The only thing that could be heard in your room was the sound of your breathing. You didn’t want to say anything, to talk about it and be reminded that you were married. You just wanted to bask in this moment.
You don’t know how long you’d been lying in silence before Kol whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You turned your head toward him, but like that night on the hill, he kept his vision directed to the ceiling as if he was afraid what he’d see if he directed it to you. He hesitated. “I think I’ve felt something for you for years, centuries. Maybe- maybe I always have.”
Your heart nearly stopped. Not just because he was confessing to having feelings for you, but because maybe you did, too. But this was more than a confession.
Your response to this could determine your future, if there was any, with Kol. 
The rational part of your brain argued that this could never work, that Klaus would never let it happen, that this would only end in tragedy. You wanted to stop this before it became something more, but that other part of yourself, the part ruled by her heart, told you that it was too late for that. This was already something more.
You couldn’t let this go, not even if you wanted to.
You cupped his cheek, turning him to you. When his eyes met yours, you saw an emotion that Kol rarely ever showed, and that was fear. You wondered if he could see that you were scared, too.
You looked into his eyes for what felt like forever but was really only a minute. And then you decided that what you were feeling was more powerful than words, so you didn’t say anything at all, leaning in to kiss him. It wasn’t as fervent as before, now tender and soft but still with purpose. You weren’t too sure of what’d happen after this, once you woke up from this dream and got back to reality, but as you kissed him, it didn’t matter.
You were together. 
And for now, that was more than enough.
When you woke up, Kol was still there, right next to you. You could’ve stayed in bed together all day, but you weren’t normal people. You belonged to the least normal family and led the least normal lives. So you got up, reluctantly, and he went back to his room before anyone could find him in yours.
Then you walked downstairs, ate breakfast, and dealt with the effects of the your most recent problem. You were at Rousseau’s, about to meet with Marcel, when you were pulled into the bathroom, Kol’s lips immediately meeting yours.
The feeling of his lips soon became so familiar to you.
You wanted to be normal so badly, but you couldn’t. You knew you couldn’t. So this became your new normal instead: stolen moments and glances, being together when no one else was around. 
Slowly, that feeling you had whenever you were around him was given a name. You don’t know if it was love, if it could even be that yet—but it felt dangerous, and exciting, and warm all at once. You felt it whenever you kissed him, whenever you looked into his dark brown eyes, and whenever he smiled. 
You were falling for Kol Mikaelson.
You constantly berated yourself, even though it felt so good. This was like alcohol, and drugs, and every other vice out there: it was temporary. The Original Hybrid was your husband—this was his brother. He wouldn’t let this happen.
This was wrong.
But it felt so right.
You had rejected every possible opportunity of happiness for years. Couldn’t you just have this one thing? Couldn’t you just let yourself be happy?
Oh, Kol made you happy. He brought out a part of you that you thought was gonna be gone forever. He made you feel like yourself again, like you were alive, like you had something to live for.
You had been living in black and white for so long that you forgot what it was like to live in colour.
Music filled the Mikaelson living room, music that the rest of the world would perhaps call old but never got old to you. Kol held you close to him, rocking you to the rhythm while your head rested on his chest. You were both very well versed in classical dances, but you didn’t need a big fancy dance for this to feel the way it did: special.
There was something going on—there always was—but, at that moment, that something didn’t exist. At that moment, it was just the two of you.
A small smile came to your lips. “You know, you weren’t even actually alive when this song came out.”
You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled. “Yeah, and I’m glad. This song is terrible.”
You gasped, pulling away and hitting his arm. “Kol Mikaelson! Don’t you dare speak about Celine Dion that way.”
He laughed again, easily pulling you back to him and kissing the crown of your head. You tried pouting, but it felt impossible to do anything other than smile. “Don’t worry, darling. You like it, so I like it.” Your smile got wider, pulling back again but this time it was to kiss him.
You found that, when you kissed Kol, it wasn’t always so hot and heavy. It didn’t always lead to making out or making love. Sometimes, you just kissed because it felt good. It was soft, and gentle, and reassuring, and it felt good.
Maybe, if you were being honest with yourself, it felt better than anything else.
You pulled away after a few seconds, taking the time to stare into his eyes. You did it all the time and yet, every single time you did, it felt like the first time all over again. You could stare into his brown orbs all day long if you could. However, your lives didn’t allow for that.
But that just made little moments like these all the more special.
After a few seconds, he directed your attention away from his eyes, mumbling under his breath, “The song’s still shit, though.”
“Oh, shut up,” you scolded, but your head still made its way back to his chest, anyways.
Everyone else was back at the benefit. You were there, too, until you both decided to sneak away and go back home. That was cutting it close, definitely, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. You didn’t get to go on dates or hold hands in public, so you were gonna grab these moments while you still could.
You knew that what you were doing was just prolonging an eventual- no, an inevitable outcome, but after everything you went through, you learned a few lessons. All good things came to an end—everything had to end at some point. Your marriage sure did, but that didn’t mean that you’d go back and change a thing. Yes, things with Klaus ended badly, but he gave you a thousand good years first.
So if what you were doing with Kol ended, then at least you had this. At least you had dances in the living room, and stargazing, and soft kisses.
Maybe this story wouldn’t have a happy ending.
But as long as you got a happy middle, then you were okay with that.
And he did everything he could to give you just that. 
It felt… different, to be with someone other than Niklaus, but it was a good different. It felt good to smile and to actually mean it. And it made you wish for something more, to be more than just two people engaging in a forbidden love affair, but that’s what this was, wasn’t it?
But Kol made it feel like it really was more than that. He made you feel like a diamond, like you were beautiful, like everything that had weighed down on you only made you that much stronger. 
This was more. This was so much more than you could’ve ever hoped for.
You were lying in bed together late at night when it happened. You weren’t expecting it- you weren’t sure if you ever expected it. But Kol was always one to do the unexpected, surprise you and keep you on the edge of your seat.
Yet, when he spoke, he didn’t sound so dauntless. He sounded small and afraid, but at the same time, you could hear the hope in his voice. Hope, courage, bravery—at the end of the day, it was just called Kol.
He was always brave enough for the both of you.
“I love you.”
Your breath hitched, turning to see that he was already staring at you. The déjà vu hit you hard. Here you were, in the same position you’d already been in with him, but this time, he looked right at you.
Brave enough for the both of you.
You didn’t say anything. You wondered if you were dreaming, hallucinating, imagining things, if this was some cruel trick of the mind. But, the longer you stared and the longer he stared right back at you, the more convinced you became.
This was real.
This was real.
You wrapped your arm around his neck, pulling him in and connecting his lips with yours. Butterflies still erupted in your stomach, even though you had been at this for a while. You put your everything into this kiss, but Kol deserved more than everything.
This scared you, but Kol had given you so much. He didn’t need to be the brave one all the time.
You wanted to be brave, too.
So when you finally pulled away, resting your forehead on his, eyes closed, you whispered back, “I love you.” 
You and Kol were brave together, braver together. Yeah, there were dragons out there so much more powerful than you, but you could slay them together. Maybe it would’ve been safer to just stay away, to just tuck yourself away in a castle and avoid the dragons altogether, but what was the point in that?
What was the point of being alive if you weren’t truly living?
And you were living.
Everyone around you could see it. Your change in behaviour was unusual, but it lifted everyone’s spirits. You were starting to be able to actually hold a conversation with Rebekah, and you were starting to be able to talk to Elijah about things other than the family’s latest conflicts. You were even starting to be a little more friendly with Hayley.
You didn’t tell her, but a part of you was thankful for what she did. She knew who you were when she met Klaus; she knew he was married, and she still slept with him. This had previously enraged you, but now you couldn’t help but feel relieved.
Had she not done what she did, you may have never had this with Kol.
And Hope would’ve never been born.
Oh, you would do anything for her. This family may have been cursed, but you were all willing to do whatever it took to break the cycle. No more running, no more instability. No matter how dysfunctional you all were, you would give her that.
She was never alone. When her parents weren’t there to bring her or pick her up from school, you were. And if you weren’t, then Kol was, or Rebekah, or Elijah, or Marcel. The odds were against you from the start, but you were all there to flip them. 
For her.
You were always happy with Hope, but even she could tell that something had changed. She was a child, but she was bright, and she knew you were happier.
The relationships in your life blossomed. Klaus was the only person that this didn’t happen with.
You loved Kol—you were in love with Kol, but loving him didn’t skew your memory. Klaus and you had a long history. You still couldn’t look at him without picturing it.
It was easier to be more forgiving of Hayley. She wasn’t the one who vowed to be faithful to you, nor was she the one to cheat on you three times or give up on your marriage. He was. You couldn’t see yourself letting go of that. Maybe one day, but being around him wouldn’t speed up that process.
Klaus was actually the last person on your mind.
But that didn’t seem to be the case for him.
You were on your way out of the compound when something caught your eye. You stopped, turning to see your husband by himself in an empty hallway. It appeared that something had caught his eye, too.
He was so focused that he didn’t even see you. You could’ve pretended not to see him, walked away and gone on with your business, but you knew what he was looking at. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t look at it every once in a while, too.
Yes, you could’ve walked away, but the easy thing was never easy for you to do.
So you walked up to him, leaving a foot between you and looking at what had captured his attention. It was a portrait, and a familiar one at that.
The truth was, you’d studied that portrait until it was engraved into your memory. Even when you weren’t looking at it, it still came and found you in your dreams and even when you were just sitting around and thinking.
It was you. It was you, and Klaus, and Rebekah, and Elijah, and Kol. Before he died, before Hayley, before this godforsaken city. It was when things were calm, when you still had some sort of semblance of family. Or at least that’s what it was supposed to be.
Because it wasn’t real.
You never got together for this portrait. This time didn’t exist. It was fake. Niklaus was such a wonderful artist that he almost made you believe it, but it wasn’t real. He could paint you all so realistically, make you look so happy, but when was the last time you were all happy as a family? It was never in these clothes, never in this age.
But he made it look real.
He made it look like you were all picture-perfect, like his brother didn’t bring you to your end, like Rebekah never lost her mind, like Kol was never murdered, like you were never out crying in the rain for a man who would never change, like he was a man who could change.
Who knew that such a happy picture could evoke such sadness. Because this portrait wasn’t what was— it was what could’ve been.
Klaus broke the silence with a voice you would’ve never heard without enhanced hearing. “I really did love you.” Neither of you turned to face the other. “I really do love you.”
Not too long ago, you would’ve started crying. And while tears did build in your eyes, you smiled first. You didn’t doubt that. It didn’t take you long to respond, “So did I.”
1996, when you left, when you came back, when he cheated again, when you found out he was having a baby, when he killed Leo, when you stayed, when you took Hope. All of this flashed before your eyes, but it wasn’t all you saw. You also saw your wedding, your first time, when he painted you as you slept, when you got drunk together, when he cooked for you, when you kissed on the beach at night all by yourselves. You saw how happy he made you and how easily he just took it away from you.
You would never forget these things, none of it. You would never forget the bad, but you would never forget the good, either.
He lightly chuckled as if he was remembering all the same things as you. And then, for a while, you both just stood there, staring at the painting. There was a time when you could practically read his mind, but now you had no idea what he was thinking.
You were different people now. You weren’t the same people who went through the good, nor were you the same people who went through the bad. You weren’t the same people you could’ve been in that picture, either.
And he knew that, too.
“I’m never going to be your husband again, am I?” He mused, but this wasn’t a question. You both already knew the answer, even if you hadn’t said it out loud to each other.
“No.” You shook your head, opting to look down at your boots. “No, you’re not.”
Maybe you were imagining it, but out of the corner of your eye, you saw him wipe at his eye. Suddenly, a part of you felt bad, but not for him. You felt bad for the boy you fell in love with, the boy who gave you humanity even when he had lost his own. And you felt bad for the girl who kissed him at the altar.
So, against your current feelings, you turned and swiftly wrapped your arms around him, hoping that you weren’t just hugging Klaus, but that you were hugging the boy you married all those years ago. He quickly hugged you back, holding you tightly, but his grip slowly lessened.
Like he was getting ready to let you go.
You don’t know how long you were in his arms, but eventually he pulled away. You could finally see his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes, and how they were filled with tears despite the smile on his face. He didn’t say anything, and he didn’t need to. You had both said everything you needed to say; there were no more chapters to write in this book of yours.
It was time for your story to end.
You let go of each other and you turned around, walking away without sparing that painting another glance. You were just at the edge of the hallway when he called your name, making you turn your head.
“Be happy with him,” he said, even though it looked like it annihilated him to say it.
But you didn’t question it. You just nodded, then you turned around and walked away. You didn’t need to ask him who he was referring to or have him explain any further. You understood perfectly.
You would.
You were gonna be happy with him.
And just like that, the Original Hybrid and the Mikaelson Wife were done.
But who knew? You could very well become a Mikaelson once again if Kol got his way. You wouldn’t admit, just as to not inflate his ego, but deep down, you wanted him to get his way.
Slowly, the suspicions your other siblings had became confirmed. You weren’t overly affectionate in public, but they were able to put two and two together. Rebekah had been in love so many times that she was able to see it clearly on you, and Elijah was always the scholar amongst you, the smart one. Marcel saw it from a mile away. While he and Kol hadn’t always gotten along well, they were both willing to put that aside for you.
Even a child could see that you were in love; Hope did.
“Aunt Y/N/N, do you and Uncle Kol love each other like Belle and the Beast?”
You both simultaneously turned to her, along with everyone else in the living room. It was movie night; Beauty and the Beast had just finished, and Hope had asked you that question as soon as the credits were rolling.
She was just a kid who was curious. She didn’t know the potential outrage her question could cause.
But you weren’t gonna lie to her. You weren’t gonna deny what was possibly the best thing you ever had, even as your entire family was in the room.
“Hope-” Hayley had started to scold, but you cut her off.
“Hayley, it’s alright.” She didn’t look convinced and still looked embarrassed, but you turned back to Hope with a smile on your face. “Yes, sweetheart, Uncle Kol and I do love each other.”
She now looked confused, like your reply hadn’t cleared anything up at all. “But my daddy looks at you the way Uncle Kol looks at you.” You opened your mouth, but you didn’t know what to say. “Does daddy love you, too?”
It appeared that none of you had the answer to her question. How were you meant to explain your situation to a child, that you and her father had loved one another for a thousand years and then your relationship ended because he slept with her mother?
What you were least expecting happened. Instead of having an outburst, Klaus beckoned Hope over, petting her hair once she was sat on his lap. “Ah, my littlest wolf,” he sighed, but the corners of his lips were upturned. His eyes were slightly glazed over as if he wasn’t really there, but that look quickly disappeared. For Hope, he’d be present. “I wish that love was as simple to understand as Belle and the Beast, but it is much more complicated than that. Your Aunt Y/N has been there for me many times, and for that, I will always love her,” he professed. His eyes found yours for a moment, but he quickly looked back to his daughter. “But we love each other differently from how her and Uncle Kol love each other. We love each other as family, not as people in love with one another. But no matter what any of us feel for each other in this family, Hope, we will all always love you.”
Hope slung her arms around her father’s neck. “I love you, too, daddy.”
“Always and forever, little one.”
While Hope’s back was turned, your eyes met again and the corners of your lips quirked up slightly. You knew that must’ve been hard for him to say, so you mouthed, thank you.
He smiled back at you. Even though it was so obviously fake, you still appreciated it. He nodded in response.
Yes, you and Klaus had been through a lot. You all had complicated relationships with one another, Kol and you included, but you were gonna push that aside for Hope. Every time.
One day, you would explain it all to her, how Marcel was her brother but your son, why Rebekah was so soft and hard at the same time, why Elijah was so protective, why her parents weren’t together, how you fell in and out of love with her father, why you were still here, how you fell in love with Kol.
But for now, you were gonna let her hold onto her innocence for as long as she could.
Hope still had questions, but she also had all of you to distract her from all of the problems you dealt with. However, you were no longer consumed by all these problems. You had someone to distract you, too, and that was Kol.
Whether you were in bed together, kissing, or just holding hands, he always took your mind off your troubles. He was like a wizard, transporting you from reality and bringing you to cloud nine every day. The problems, the threats, the drama—none of it mattered to you. To you, being with Kol was enough.
If you could just have this for the rest of your life, then you’d be happy, and that is exactly what he wanted to give you.
Time passed in a blur. It was a true what they said, that time flied when you were having fun. Before you knew it, a year had passed since Kol first kissed you, since you started this. A perfect year, calm with minimal conflict both in the Quarter and in the Abattoir.
You could’ve passed many more years this way happily, but you were always one to accept less than what you were worth. Kol knew that, and he wanted more for you- more for both of you.
He wanted to do more than just take you to dreams away from reality.
He wanted to make those dreams come true.
“Kol, what are you doing?” You giggled, stumbling a little but never falling. Kol would never let you fall.
He hushed you, “Shhh, we’re almost there.” 
A blindfold was over your eyes as he guided you around. You got into the car together hours ago, and when you woke up, the blindfold was on. He said he had a surprise for you.
This was so cheesy, but you were a sucker for these kinds of things. You never thought you’d get to a place like this again, that you’d be a hopeless romantic or even just a romantic ever again after what Klaus did to you, but Kol made you believe in romance again.
He put your heart back together after you thought it’d been broken beyond repair.
Finally, after more stumbling and laughing, he stopped, holding you in place. “Okay, are you ready?” You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the excitement in his voice. You nodded. “Alright. Three, two, one-”
The blindfold fell to the ground and the sight he’d been withholding was revealed to you. Your brows furrowed. You were in a living room with beautiful floors and beautiful decor, a fireplace parallel to the big couch behind you. You looked around and saw incredible artwork hanging on the walls and gorgeous windows that let the moonlight in.
It was beautiful and all, but did you drive all this way to break into someone’s house?
You voiced your confusion. “Kol, what is this place?” You turned around to see him trying to hold back a smile, a twinkle in his eyes. He looked like a kid about to tell you that he saw Santa. That thought made you laugh. “C’mon, Kol, really. Where are we right now?”
“Well, geographically, we’re in North Carolina.” His explanation produced a gasp from you, making him laugh. He was having way too much fun having you in the dark.
“North Carolina?” you echoed. Your jaw was practically on the floor. “We’re in North Carolina? You’re kidding- that’s like ten hours away-”
“Thirteen, darling.” This didn’t get rid of your disbelief, though you doubt that was what Kol was aiming for, anyway. He shrugged, adding, “Well, I actually got it down to twelve, but that’s besides the point.”
“Trust me, the shocker for me is not your reckless driving-”
He cut you off by speeding to you, lifting up your chin so you were looking right into his eyes. Funny, how he was still able to make you speechless. “I’m going to ignore that jab at my impeccable driving skills because I love you.”
You snorted, “Sure, if impeccable means shit.”
He hushed you again, causing you to roll your eyes. “Back to your question,” he said, making you remember the topic of conversation. You wondered if he had any idea how easily he was able to make you forget about anything—about everything. “I drove us here because North Carolina is relatively… quiet.”
You raised a brow. “Quiet?”
“Yes.” He gently grabbed your hands, holding them in his. Sometimes, he did this absentmindedly, but you were never bothered. You were far from bothered. “Louisiana is perhaps the heart of the supernatural. New York and any other state with a thriving night life also has a thriving vampire population, and they’re busy enough with humans as it is. The big states always are. But North Carolina… North Carolina isn’t on any vampire’s bucket list.”
You drawled, “Okayyyyyy… but why are we here?” What he was saying made sense, but you didn’t get how it related to either of you.
He just smiled, so clearly amused by your confusion. “You amaze me, Y/N, truly,” he proclaimed, that same shit-eating grin on his face that you’d grown accustomed to. “Only you would take so long to get the hint.”
That was obviously a hint, too, but you weren’t catching it. Kol shook his head, getting that look in his eye that he got when he was remembering something. “You told me once that, if we weren’t who we were, you’d want to live somewhere without ruckus, like a normal person. But you knew that couldn’t happen with my brother’s aspirations.” Now he looked at you pointedly and, all of a sudden, a wave of realization washed over you.
Your eyes darted all over the house. There was a reason why you were so in love with it. You looked back to Kol, mouth agape. He continued, “You wanted a house that wasn’t just decadent, but a home.”
Tears welled in your eyes as your hand flew up to cup your mouth in shock. You could remember telling him that, but it was so long ago. You’d long since abandoned the idea, but here he was, offering it up to you. “You- you remember that?”
He leaned in to wipe a tear that you didn’t even notice had fell, caressing your cheek. “I remember every moment I’ve ever spent with you, Y/N.” His actions were pointless because his words caused even more tears to fall.
You had never felt such an overwhelming feeling, so in love, so loved. Your heart’s immediate instinct was to kiss him, to say yes, but your mind… you’d been through enough to know better. 
“How are we going to-” you stammered, “we can’t- we can’t just move away.”
“Y/N-”
“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me, but-” your voice cracked. “we can’t just pick up and leave, Kol—you know that.”
He was now cupping both of your cheeks, staring so deeply into your eyes that you were sure he could see the parts of yourself that you’d tucked away. “Do you remember when I left Mystic Falls?” Of course, you did. How could you ever forget? “I asked you to come with me and you didn’t. Why was that?”
You didn’t want to answer, to relive this after you’d already agonized over it for so long, but you did, anyway. “Klaus. I didn’t go because of Klaus.”
“Exactly. You didn’t go because of that bastard, and you don’t want this now for the same reason.”
“Kol-”
He stepped closer when you thought he’d already closed all the space between you. His voice was soft and firm all at once. “I died thinking I’d never get the chance to tell you how I felt. I wasted so much time, worrying, unhappy.” He shook his head. “Well, I don’t want to worry anymore. I don’t want to waste any more time.” More tears fell, from both of you. “You make me happy, Y/N. I just want to be happy with you.”
A teary laugh escaped your lips. He made you happy, too, so much happier than you’d been in so long, so much happier than you even thought was possible after everything you’d been through. And he was right. Klaus was the one thing holding you back, but why should he get to do that?
You’ve given away years of your life for other people. Couldn’t you be selfish, just this once, and have this one thing for yourself?
You just wanted to be happy.
So you pulled him in and kissed him until you had to pull away for air, and when you did, you whispered, “Yes.”
And that may have just been the best decision you had ever made.
When you eventually drove back to New Orleans days later, you explained the situation to Klaus. He wasn’t jumping up and down with joy, but he surprisingly took it better than you expected.
You spent a thousand years with that man; saying goodbye wasn’t as easy as it seemed, but it needed to happen. It was time for you to go your separate ways. And even after everything he put you through, you still hoped that he could maybe find happiness one day, too.
Niklaus Mikaelson was your epic love, but you knew without a doubt that Kol was your true love. He was the warmth you’d been yearning for, and you were gonna let yourself have that.
North Carolina was the perfect place for you to settle down. It was quiet, like Kol said, with little to no supernatural population. It was also close enough to Louisiana that you could distance yourself from all the crazy but still get there if they needed you.
That’s what you told Elijah when you said your goodbye to him, that you were just a phone call away. He was gonna be the one running the show now, as always. He was always the responsible one amongst you, and you hoped that he’d let go of that and let himself live a little, too. As much as you didn’t like her, maybe he could get with Hayley one day or even find his own person.
You had hope that all of your family could one day be free of this Mikaelson curse, that they wouldn’t be bearing the hybrid’s sins for the rest of their lives. Rebekah was getting there. She was still growing up a little, and she all the time in the world to do that.
It was hard saying goodbye to Hope, but you just reassured her that this wasn’t goodbye. She’d always have a place in your home if she so needed it, and she’d definitely always hold a place in your heart. The only reason you felt okay with leaving her was because you knew she wouldn’t be alone; she had two parents that loved her more than life, a crazy aunt and uncle, and her big brother.
Marcel congratulated you with a wide grin on his face. He was elated for you, telling you that he’d be visiting you, to which you replied that he would always be welcome with you two.
Maybe you were just sentimental, but even saying goodbye to the city itself was hard, nerve-racking. It had given you so much, but taken so much more. You were learning, though, that love wasn’t supposed to drain you. You were learning to let go.
Goodbye, New Orleans, you whispered to yourself as you passed the town sign, and then you were saying hello to North Carolina… and also the new you.
Y/N and Kol Michaels. You got married not too far down the line. Of course, if you wanted to be normal, ditching the medieval last name was best. You supposed you could’ve kept it, but getting rid of it was more symbolic than anything.
You wanted to start over completely, and so that’s what you guys did. You weren’t abandoning your family, but making one of your own, too. Eventually, the idea of kids came up. You wanted nothing more than to raise your own child with the man you were in love with, but you couldn’t conceive a child and you didn’t want to drag one into this life, anyway. It was too dangerous.
The realization that you would never get to have kids broke your heart, but your lover repaired it like his words were glue. The two of you were together, and that was good enough for you.
Doing this, starting over, was scarier than any other situation you had ever been in—and that was saying something, considering how long you’d lived. But with Kol at your side, you were able to be brave. 
There was so much to be afraid of. You were scared that this wouldn’t work out, that this was only a happy middle with no happy ending, that you’d feel cold again one day after growing accustomed to the fire, but if all of that happened one day, then you decided that you’d be okay with it. You would be okay with it because at least you lived. You weren’t gonna let your fears stop you from doing that. If you just gave into your fears, then you would’ve never felt this feeling. You would’ve never fallen in love. You would’ve never found yourself again.
You owed it all to your bravery.
And you owed it all to Kol’s.
But together, you were fearless. Together, you were braver.
You were braver together.
Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade @hyperactivewhore @tnrthings @brooklynscherry-z @roselibrary @kollover24 @volturissideslut
a/n: sorry for the long wait, but here is part two! ik i said i was gonna do the thg fanfic first, but that one is long asf so i decided to drop this first. i tried my best to listen to all ur suggestions—unfortunately, i couldn't find a way to write in a pregnancy. but we've got a happy ending! i really, really, really did not want a happy ending, like i had a whole sad ending planned for the part 2 but everyone wanted happiness so i just decided to end it there to avoid to outrage lol. if u want a part 3 where it doesn't end there but ends the way it was supposed to originally, then tell me. and lastly, thank u all so much for all the support!
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