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#YOUR WHOLE STORY AND OCS HAVE MY HEART
aetherarf · 9 months
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Obsessing over unwilling wanderer disney princess. His heart [that he insists he does not have] is so delicate animals always innately trust him. extremely common for birds to rest atop his head perch on his shoulders, skittish foxes in a place they don't understand hide behind his legs.
He does not like this. He does not feel like he should be trusted- most days, he doesn't trust himself. He barely trusts the sun to rise in the morning.
Nahida, however, thinks it's a good thing, watching as Wanderer holds his hands out for a little bird trying to fly for the first time- if it fails, he catches it, and delicately places it back in its nest, only muttering "later, then." before going on with whatever task he was given.
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loaksbitch · 1 year
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this time it’s different, imagine neteyam knelt in front of you and begging you not to go after he betrayed you? c’mon now guys i can’t be the one who’ll only suffer with this idea that struck me 😕 — wc is 2.6k !!
warnings - vulgar language, neteyam cries you guys NETEYAM CRIES!! my poor baby. oc gets/feels betrayed, one slap mention, where neteyam who is the mighty future leader of the clan kneels in front of you and begs for forgiveness, he fucked up :(
like and reblogs are appreciated! i love you guys so so much and this is 1.2+ followers celebrating gift <3
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“i trusted you.” — neteyam sully (★)
part (two) — (three) — (four) of this series.
the na’vi females are gathered to spend time together and talk teas while their significant others and soon to be mate left for a war party. you on the other hand being one of them, or so you thought as you all laugh and bring the old moments or funny moments you all had
“…and that’s how i met tar’key” one of the female navi blushes as she tells her story of how she met her mate years ago.
“that’s so heartwarming, oh mother eywa!” the other females giggle and awe. you’re silently sat as you try to ignore some of the noisy na’vi’s whispering until they mention the soon to be olo'eyktan and your ears perk up
“have you heard about the first born of the sully family being set up for a mate?”
you’re somehow confused and excited when they mention about mating because you knew it was going to be you. neteyam was going to be mated with you.
“yes! and i’ve heard she’s so pretty as to very similar to her mother’s beauty.” the other whisper
her mother? you never had a mother growing up…
“she’s so lucky, honestly imagine being the future mate of the future olo’eyktan? so dreamy.” the girls sigh imagining it and let a soft giggle out. you’ve frowned as you try to thinking deeply and try to make sense in what just the na’vi girls said
the female clan keeps murmuring and talking as they make friends with huge circle and a wooden fire in the middle of the circle, while you’re trying to put pieces together.
what do they mean “beauty of her mother.” when you didn’t even have one? neteyam and you were soon to be mated, yes you knew that and he told you he only wants you in his future but what the girls talked about was another completely different person
you wanted to run to neteyam and ask what you’ve just heard but he wasn’t near by, he has already left to the war party right after he made love to you as a good bye the whole night, you were crying mess being of how you loved this man as he cradled you to his body and held you tight.
you’re confused and somehow trying everything but decide to eavesdrop to what the two females are talking. “i haven’t seen her here, did she not want to join us?” the one asks before the other scoffs,
“of course she won’t, after all she’s the future leader of the omatikaya clan.” the other states, now you’re feeling way too desperate to know about her but it’s breaking your heart to figure out it’s not you
and this means? neteyam lied to you.
“never mind, let’s just get back to what we were list– oh mother eywa! she’s here! she’s here!”
your heart starts to beat faster as your eyes look around to know which one is the so called future leader of the clan. “which one? i see two girls standing!?” the females arch their neck to see more and the other pointing out makes you know who exactly they’re talking about
your heart doesn’t just entirely break one piece following the other, everything around you was blurry. you needed to leave right now.
“excuse me,” you stood up as you made your way out. the na’vi’s asked if you’re okay but you just shrugged them and told them you’re feeling sick.
once you stumbled your way out and walked far enough from the na’vi’s, you finally find yourself on the trees of sounds. where your lover and you exactly made love. of course you two were gonna be mated and doing the deed didn’t bother you at that time but right now?
right now you’re feeling the burning of your skin where neteyam exactly placed kisses and his skin touched you. your whole body felt dirty right the moment you figured out you’ve been… played.
now everything started to make sense, why neteyam always feared of you both getting caught, why he didn’t want you to meet with his family, why he never… a soft sob leaves your lips as your eyes close.
of course that na’vi was better than competed to you.
beauty? her. body? her. has a family? her. everything? her. your jaw clenched as you feel so foolish for blindly trusting a man… a fucking man.
the pain you’re feeling doesn’t compare to when you felt right after your mother abandoned you. this was making you struggle with breathing, your lung tightening with every try you’re making to let air in.
what did you do wrong to deserve all of this?
you’ve really been fooled, you knew everything was too good to be true. you’re now realizing how stupid you were to think the future olo'eyktan mating with some abandoned and adopted daughter who only served as a professional arrow shooter.
“eyaw, it hurts.” you cry, tears freely rolling down your skin. you cry to your mother nature your heart out as everything of this place reminds you of him.
you want to hate him but no, it only keeps hurting to even think about hating him. neteyam was everything to you while you’re nothing to him, you were ready to throw everything from him but he only used you and backstabbed you
meanwhile you’re crying your heart out to eywa, the clan has returned from the war party with few people hurt and non dead. neteyam was happy and eager to tell you the war went so perfect like it was planned. no death and few people hurt but his eyes keep wandering trying to find you
a tint of disappointment settles in him when he realized you weren’t there, but you promised you would watch him from far so the na’vi won’t be suspicious about you two. at least until he makes it official, and today is the day he will make it official to his parents you’re the one he wants
oh how he was so late for this.
neteyam figures out you weren’t anywhere here so he just shrugs his parents and tells them he needs air for a while. obvious that they’re proud of him today, jake didn’t bother and already shrugged his son off
neteyam tries to hide his excitement when people greet him as he made his way to your hammock.
eyeing the na’vi’s and once he checked no one is watching, he slipped in but was greeted with no warmth or scent of your body. “princess?” he calls for you but nothing talks to him back
frowning, neteyam leaves you hammock and climb down to think where you could possibly be. it doesn’t take him long to figure out where you are and jogs to the destination he thinks you’re found.
and just like he thought your body comes to his sight as you’re stood in front of the tree of sounds, your back facing him.
neteyam chuckles as he walks to you before wrapping his arm on your body and pressing himself to your warmth.
you in other hand feel your body tense with his skin touching yours. “i’ve missed you” he groans to your hair as he place kissed on the back of your head then to your neck. you don’t even try to say it back or turn around to hug him.
neteyam does fail to notice your odd behavior and step back a little giving you space to turn around to him but you’re just frozen. “princess?” he calls for you but you just try your best to compose yourself from falling apart
the man in front of you feels his inside worry before he’s forcing you to turn around and face him.
but what he was met with was what he never expected. you eyes are swollen and puffy like you’ve been crying for hours, “who did this to you?” was the first full sentence neteyam utters and you ironically scoff at his words
it was him, he was the one who did this to you.
he tries to cup your cheeks to his large palm but you step back as if his touch disgusts you. and in fact, it does disgust you right now. you know you’ll run back to him if he touches you and you’re not allowing that
“baby?” his breath hitches when you avoid his touch and his brain instantly start to figure out you’ve already found out but neteyam chooses to ignore it until you say it yourself
he tries again by stepping close to you but you were fast to speak. “is it true neteyam.” it wasn’t a question and the way you called his name darkly makes his heart hurt and tell him you’ve definitely had found out.
but he chooses to play dump.
“what is true, princess?” those pet names makes your stomach irrupt in nausea and you shake your head. “don’t call me that, i’m not your princess, never have been your princess.” the way you say it calmly scares him
sure thing neteyam fell for your calmness and mature self but right now he wishes you could just punch him or yell at him.
you’re trying to stay calm before slowly opening your mouth to speak. “you have a…” you can’t even finish the sentence feeling your throat close in pain. he again tries to play dumb but this time you hiss at him silently.
talk about happiness? it can vanish in a heartbeat.
the atmosphere as changed to a heavy one as neteyam watches your broken self in front of him.
“yes.” those three letters were enough to entirely ruin you. you stumble on your own feet feeling dizzy, neteyam tries to hold you from falling only for you to slap his hands away.
“look at first it was just a rumor but then my parents and her parents set us up, set me up.” neteyam starts to try explaining but it only hurts you more. neteyam watches your tears fall and his heart bleeds out, he really wanted to tell you
“i never loved her, i never want to be with her, i never want äeya.” neteyam steps closer, “i want you and you only” you’ve heard the name before, so many times actually that you grew up wanting to be äeya so bad.
the daughter of the tshaik that’s the perfect daughter from the clan and it didn’t surprise she had to be mated with him. what hurt you was him lying and leading you to his great fucked up game.
“i fall in love with you princess, i love you so much it always hurts.” you’re painfully silent and it eats him alive as he desperately seeks for something in you. “i trusted you..” you back away, his touch bringing nothing but pain
if someone from yesterday came to you and told you that this would happen, you would’ve shot your arrow at them but again look at you desperate for things your lover was saying were to be lie.
“with you— princess please.” neteyam doesn’t know why he’s pleading but he knows he wants to wipe those tears and take your pain away. “don’t touch me.” you warn when his fingertips held your small hands
“DON’T TOUCH ME!!”
neteyam froze at his spot, his tail locked between his legs. this was the first time you yelled at him, the first him he heard your true pain through your voice. “i hate you! i hate you! i. hate. you.” neteyam’s ears flatten at your words that were like daggers to his heart.
“don’t say that, please don’t say that baby, please.” he was begging you now. neteyam always chose death than being despised by you.
“you knew the whole time, neteyam” you’re saying it so clam and softly it’s making him feel like he deserves death and every painful torture to be done to him. “i told you i have no one and you were the only person i trusted with my everything and you were the only one i have.” you’re now crying
“how could you do this to me?”
how could he do this to you?
neteyam licks his lips and sniffles, he nods agreeing with you. “i was gonna make it official, today i was going to tell them you’re mine and i’m yours” your eyes widen but you quickly shake them off, you shake your head disagreeing with him
“i’m not yours.” the way you said it was not with in an anger but pure honesty, hatred and disgust. neteyam’s breath hitches again and his eyes start to whelm. “i was never yours.”
you were his, you promised yourself to him last night as he did, you were his first time and first person in everything. you were his future and his own actions took his future away from him.
neteyam could only watch your broken self in yourself and did nothing, the little abandoned girl you’ve hidden coming out and telling him everything last night before making love completely gone. he was met with your side he never thought he would see
“i’ll never be yours.” you knew your words hurt him and you definitely wanted them to just like he’s hurting you
neteyam suddenly kneels in front of you and pulls you by your hips, wrapping his arm on your waist and pressing his face to your stomach to hide himself from reality. “i never wanted you to find out this way, please let me make it right. let me make everything right, please princess.”
he doesn’t care you warned him not to call you that, no matter how hard you try not to be? you’ll always be his princess. you’re just frozen there with the man you trusted giving your soul to just take everything from you wrapped around you.
“let go of me.” you tell him and silently pray he does or you’ll kneel and hug him back.
neteyam’s body shake as he is now violently crying himself in front of you and you’ve never seen him like this. “neteyam, please let me go.” you try but no answer, only whimpers and sobs from the man knelt and face pressed to your tummy are heard
you purse your lips and place your hands on his hands to pry them from you. “please don’t do this” neteyam was the one begging. “we both are promised to one another last nig–“ you cut him off.
“there was nothing last night, last night was nothing but a mistake i did.” your words not only emotionally but mentally affect neteyam. once you start to leave with no words, neteyam panics and get on his feet quick
“you’re not leaving me…” he didn’t know the damage he caused until he realize he’s losing you. you ignore him and walk away but neteyam was fast to hold you by your hands making you turn and slap him across the face
you hate yourself for doing that but you hate him most for making you do that. “i said don’t touch me.” you say coldly, you’re now the woman he never knew. “and if you dare to try to come close to me again, neteyam,” your soft voice he knew wasn’t there, “i will kill you.”
you’re not just threatening a normal na’vi but the actual future olo'eyktan and you don’t feel a slightest fear when you do. “and trust me when i say that.” your words were familiar just like the first time he met you.
cold and unbothered of anything.
neteyam doesn’t say anything when you turn and leave but once you’re slightly far, your face turns ugly mess as you cry.
neteyam’s ears are still flattened as his tail is locked between his legs. right the moment you were out of sight, neteyam felt his world darken and went grey and gloomy. nothing would be the same with out you every again.
it was his fault this happened, he abandoned you just like your mom and everyone else. you hate him now and nothing’s gonna be the same. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry” he whispers as he’s standing right where you left him. right where you promised yourself to him last night. right where you gave yourself to him.
right where you trusted him.
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i might make this a miniseries? i don’t know lmk in the comments though i’ll depend on my creativity and flow of plot,, i love each and everyone of you!! like + reblog are appreciated and not pressured
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fraugwinska · 4 days
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A very incomplete list of Hazbin Hotel Fanfiction Authors/Geniuses
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I cannot believe the awsome, talented, absolute magnificent people I've met through this fandom. Writing FF for Hazbin Hotel has become one of my greatest joys in life, and reading the stories and creations of my fellow friends and idols is something that can brighten my whole week - and we don't gatekeep. So, if you're in search for a good read, here are a few of the SUPER AWSOME people I stalk (and I want to stress - this list is never going to be complete, but I'll try to edit it as there are just SO MANY GODDANG MASTERS out there!) @bapple117 If you love #RadioStatic, you have to read 'Bluest Monday' (completed) and the follow-up 'Say Hello, Wave Goodbye' (WIP) She'll break your heart in the most beautiful way. If you don't fancy that but Alastor is your go-to, then you will want to dive in head-first into "If You Can't Say Somethin' Nice, Don't Say Nothin' At All" (complete). But as before, be ready for a rollercoaster of emotional moments and extremely spicy shenanigans.
@hazelfoureyes Goddess of the smut, Hottest writer in Hell - If you're horny, Hazel has got you covered. Especially her 'The safeword is Radioapple'-Mini-series will make you sweat like a Zumba-Instructor on crack. Be prepared to blush, tremble, die and immediately ressurrect, because yes. She is THAT good.
Clover/corruptedteacups on AO3 With whooping 75 chapters and 300k+ hits, her Fanfic 'The Red means I Love you' is one of the best, most detailed slow-burn-pining-angsty-smutty-will-they-wont-they Masterpieces I've read so far. Alastor is magnificent and I guarantee you'll fall in love with Clover, the bunny who captures the heart of you deerest red demon.
@melodyonthewireless Highly underappreciated (imho), her fic "A Match made in Hell" (WIP) follows her OC Sybil down to hell, into the Hazbin Hotel and consecutively the arms of Alastor - but don't you dare underestimate the pink, harmless looking doe. Sybil's witch powers and her sassy, witty personality is quite the match to the established readio overlord. It's such a read, and the wait between chapters the sweetest agony!
@macabr3-barbi3 She delivers every. single. TIME. Her Short stories and One-Shots are like Pringles - Once you pop, you can't stop. I'm deeply in love with 'Dream a little Dream' (WIP), 'Nothing I can't Handle' (WIP) makes me run for a cold shower and did I mention the countless one-shot-candies that make you mouth water and your toes curl?
@slutforalastor/InconspicuousBosch on AO3 Whether it's the One-Shots on tumblr (omg the PRIEST ALASTOR BIT *fans face*) or the incredible Choose-your-Path-Fic "Say it with a smile" (completed) - you will be both amazed at the artistry of the wording and storybuilding and blushing at the sheer craft of the smut and sexual tension.
@impale-me-radio-daddy Founder of the kink #antlerplay, his series of 'The Lookalike' is steamy, outrageous, utterly magnificent and filthy down to the bones. Be prepared for some serious questioning of your own preferences, because you WILL get some epiphanies. And that's a PROMISE.
@hurthermore Listen. LISTEN. Bimbo is the mini-series that had me on a friggin CHOKEHOLD. It takes a special talent to make one so invested in THE radio demon, gentleman a la carte Alastor believably pining after and pounding a lovable, dumb airhead sinner with a fable for skimpy dresses and leave you at the end wanting for seconds and thirds!
As I said, this is a highly incomplete list, and I'll absolutely edit this list as I go. But I needed to put this out in the world. To all of the above, and all of those which I didn't include YET but most certainly will -
I ADORE YOU, I PRAY AT YOUR FEET, YOU ARE AMAZING BEINGS AND I LOVE YOU.
Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.
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euphor1a · 5 months
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Just the tip
* part of “boyfriend chronicles” — can be read as a stand-alone.
ꨄ pairing: mingyu x f!oc
ꨄ genres: non idol!au, established relationship, fluff, smut, slice of life.
ꨄ summary: he tried his best, he really did. but lord, for how long could he control himself when you looked like a pretty, little angel, all his to ruin?
ꨄ rating & word count: 18+ ; ~9.5K  
ꨄ warnings/tags: fluff (called me single in 100 languages typa way), plentiful pda, they’re so in love that it repulses me /j, profanity, explicit sexual content; dom/sub undertones (a bit of switch action as well), semi-public sex, breast play, biting/marking, size kink, praising, pet names, fingering, teasing, dacryphilia, begging, “just the tip”, unprotected, penetrative sex, big d*ck!gyu, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), creampie — this is a work of fiction and it doesn’t represent mingyu in any way.    
ꨄ a/n: this series is slowly starting to look like my villain origin story 😔... like wdym i can’t have kim mingyu 💔💔? *sigh* anyway, it’s been a while, enjoy <3!
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His footsteps are light despite him being in a hurry. It’s almost as if he could start flying at any moment. Mingyu wishes that was an option. The sunlight filtering through his living room windows barely makes it to the kitchen, where he’s struggling miserably. 
Large, shaky hands grip onto the petite looking sliders he has just finished making, carefully placing them inside the various colorful lunch boxes splayed out on the kitchen island. Mingyu is heaving ever so slightly, a bit of perspiration starting to collect on his forehead. He’s nervous. And it’s silly, he knows. But he can’t help his rushing heart that is hammering against his chest. 
It’s been over ten minutes since you texted him that you’re on your way to the park you two are going to meet up for your date. And he’s still here, in his pj’s, trying to finish packing the picnic basket as quickly as possible without absolutely destroying it. Even though Mingyu woke up criminally early with the intentions to cook everything himself, he somehow managed to fall behind because of the stupid cupcake batter that refused to make anything edible out of itself. 
With what feels like the umpteenth sigh of the day, he manages to complete arranging the boxes inside the basket. However, he almost slips while hurrying to reach his bedroom. A string of curses leave Mingyu’s pouty lips, the muscles in his arms flexing to support his whole body against the wall. He still needs to get ready, leave his house, and buy some sort of dessert from the local bakery before finally meeting you.
Thanking himself for picking up and ironing the outfit yesterday night, he dresses up in a flash. Mingyu ponders if he should do something with his hair, but ends up keeping it the way it currently is. Sure, it is kind of messy, but it also gives him that ‘casually sexy’ look. A satisfied smirk and the bare minimum skincare along with sunscreen later, he regards himself in the mirror for one last time. Looking more than good to go.
That state of peace only lasts for a moment though. Not wanting to be even more late than he already is, Mingyu grabs his phone, wallet, keys and the basket. After another minute of scrambling, he puts on a random pair of loafers and heads out. Even though you haven’t contacted him since earlier, he feels anxious. Who knows for how long you’ve been waiting all alone? 
His long legs help him blaze past the bustling neighborhood, hands clutching on the basket’s handle in an attempt to stop it from swaying unsteadily. Mingyu is so wrapped up in his thoughts of you that he actually walks past the bakery — before realizing and taking a 180° turn. The elderly owner smiles at him brightly as he enters the cozy shop, somehow catching up on what exactly is happening with the usually calm and collected guy he has seen for so long. “Aah, Mingyu! Welcome, my boy! Long time no see, eh? What brought you here all of a sudden? Mayhaps a special day with a special someone?” 
“Hi, Mr. Owen! Hah, really though… I don’t remember the last time I found myself having a little dessert. Glad to be back here! Although, I’m just gonna pretend that I didn’t hear the last part…” Mingyu trails off, eyes taking in the pretty pastries and all sorts of baked goodness displayed in front of him. His heart jumps a little when he thinks about how your face contorts in pure joy whenever you ravish the sugar rush from something sweet. “Uh anyway! Please pack me a dozen of these pastel colored macarons! And maybe four of those glazed donuts? Oh my god… are those heart shaped pies?? Looks so cute! Please pack two of them too!” 
The man nearing his late 60s can’t help but laugh at Mingyu’s excited rambling as he points at the things he wants. “Calm down, calm down, I’ll get to everything one by one.” He folds up some new boxes before putting the delicate confectioneries into them. “You really don’t have to say anything though, the answers are written all over your face.” 
Mingyu, who was busy admiring the heart shaped pies, looks up, confused. “Huh?” 
“The question I asked earlier. Which you pretended to not hear. The answer to it is written all over your face.” Owen shakes his head with a smile on his face. 
“Oh–” Mingyu looks down at his feet. Is he really that obvious? But even if he is, should he care about it? Feeling happy and elevated to meet his girlfriend doesn’t always need to be embarrassing. 
“Don’t mind my little teasing now, will you? Do you want me to put these in your basket?” He’s brought back to reality by Owen’s voice. Mingyu nods and brings the picnic basket up on the counter. 
While the old man adds up the prices to write a bill after carefully putting all the desserts in the almost full basket, Mingyu finds himself zoning out. Would you like all the things he’s bringing? What if you have some secret allergy he doesn’t know yet, and you’re unable to eat? A pout forms on his lips. But then he remembers — he’s been pretty late by now, and you’re waiting for him in a place you’re not familiar with at all.
He hurriedly pays and grabs his basket, apologizing to Owen for not being able to hang around longer and leaving immediately. Once he’s outside again, he quickly takes his phone and calls your number. Mingyu almost feels jittery, scenarios going through his head that aren’t exactly nice. Thankfully for him, you pick up after a few rings, greeting him cheerily.
“Mingyu! Hello baby! I’m here already, are you on your way?”  
That alone is enough for the six feet tall, grown ass man to wish he could disintegrate into thin air right now. Not in a negative way, though. He just finds it extremely devastating that you called him “baby” like that. But Mingyu is quick to recover from that feeling. “Hi angel, I’m on my way!! I’m sorry you have to wait there all alone… I’m like a three minute walk away from the park. Do you, maybe, wanna keep talking over the phone?”
“Aw sure! And don’t worry about it please, I’m just standing beneath a large tree and enjoying the scenery! It’s so pretty here!” 
Three minutes feel like thirty seconds with you, as he already gets through the park’s elegant looking entrance. His eyes immediately start searching for you. “Baby, I just got through the main gate! Where are you?” 
“Oh! That was quick, Gyu; should I come over to the entrance?” 
“Nono princess! Stay where you are, I’ll be there. Just give me some directions!” Mingyu insists. To his surprise, you don’t give up for your cause.
“Why?” Your voice is nearly a whine, “It’ll be way easier if I just go where you are!” 
With his heart doubling in his chest from fondness, he sighs, “Fine… I guess. Come over quickly then, will you?” 
“Yep yep, already on my way! I can’t wait to see you!” You giggle excitedly, keeping your eyes on the path as you wander back towards the main gate. Mingyu waits by the side of a decorative statue for you. His gaze is searching, hoping to catch a glimpse of the person he’s grown to adore endlessly. 
It’s only a matter of seconds for you to spot each-other, two pairs of eyes lighting up with joy. You run to him giddily, colliding into his firm chest that you’ve fallen asleep on several times now. His large arms wrap around your small frame to pull you closer, as if on instinct.
You inhale his scent deeply, a mix of his cologne and the smell of fresh laundry from his black polo shirt. However, you do avoid getting your face smushed up against him— for the sake of your skincare and makeup. Both of you stay locked in each other’s embrace for a while, before eventually pulling away.
“You look so unbelievably pretty, my love.” Mingyu leans down to place a kiss on your head. “And smelling like a dream, as well.” Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you fiddle with the belt loops of his beige trouser.
Only now, you’ve become aware of exactly how fucking good he looks today. This black polo fits him like a glove, paired with trousers that accentuate his long legs. Oh and, he also has a pair of eyeglasses that adorns his handsome face. The whole imagery is pretty devastating to your brain as it fails to process everything your eyes have registered. Why is it even legal to look like this?
You suddenly feel majorly weak in the knees, but Mingyu supports you with his unoccupied hand, flashing you a cocky grin. “What happened, baby?” He teases, clearly aware of the effect he has on you. You hold onto his arms and regain composure, clearing your throat from embarrassment. 
“Uhm, you look… really really great as well.” His eyes twinkle as he smiles upon your compliment, the hand around your waist pressing you into him. Your heart flutters in your chest from the close exposure. Mingyu seems a bit more touchy-touchy than usual, considering that you guys are in public.
“All for you, my angel,” your boyfriend mutters right against your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine. As if that wasn’t satisfactory enough, he lets his lips brush over the shell of your ear, catching you even more off-guard. What the hell is in the air today? 
“Uhm– let’s go find a spot for our date? Or are we gonna just stand here?” You look up at Mingyu questioningly, doe eyes causing his heart to skip a beat. He sighs, just slightly annoyed with how his mind goes to unspeakable places with just that.
“Of course, baby, let’s find a place to sit down.” He smiles brightly, watching you wrap your smaller arm around his. To his dismay, his hungry eyes once again take in how pretty and irresistible you look in this flowy, white sundress. 
The soft material caresses your thighs with each stride; Mingyu wishes it was his hand instead. It’s absurd, but the way this dress has pretty flowers and hearts printed across it makes him wanna mark you up. The poofy sleeves, the sweetheart neckline that shows just enough to drive him crazy — God. Even the way your hair is loosely braided with stray locks tucked behind your ear? He genuinely wants to cancel all plans and take you to his home and do you all day.
It’s crazy, really. How can you just look like that and expect anyone to act like a normal functioning human? Mingyu shakes his head a little and inhales shakily. You deserve to get pampered on a picnic date as much as you deserve to get mind-blowing orgasms. 
“You’re not paying attention to me at all…” The sound of your dejected voice breaks him out of his reverie. Shit.
“No, no! Baby, please, I’m sorry… Uh, to be painfully honest with you, I’m distracted because you look so exceptionally pretty, like an angel who’s descended on Earth. But still, I’m really sorry for not listening to what you have to say. I promise I’ll focus from now on!!” He laces your fingers together and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. 
“You’re such a flatterer, Kim Mingyu.” You try to hide your smile, sounding a bit angry to tease him. Your beloved boyfriend hates it when you call him by his full birth name; and this time is no different. However, to your surprise, instead of throwing a tantrum like he usually does, Mingyu leads you to the side of the path. 
“Wha—” you start, but close your mouth out of shock when he covers your frame entirely and leans down to press a sweet kiss on your lips. Your hands press against his toned stomach for support, your head emptying entirely. His lips are so soft against yours, the heat radiating from his body warming you up a bit too much. 
You pull away first, your whole face heated from his sudden action. As you take deep breaths to compensate for the air you lost during the kiss, Mingyu finally speaks up. “Don’t be mad at me today, my love. Please. I’m gonna be so, so sad. I promise I’ll do better but god, please don’t be upset.” His lips have formed his signature pout, your heart melting at the spot. 
You let your thumb caress over his pout, tip-toeing to peck him. Mingyu’s lips stretch into a smile, his unoccupied hand curling around your waist. “You’re so cute, how can I be mad at you?” You giggle, absolutely adored by this soft giant begging you to not be upset. 
“If I am cute, then what are you, princess?” Mingyu grins, nuzzling your hand before you move it away. You shake your head, not willing to debate on who’s the cutest. 
“Anyway, we should really find a place to sit down and get our picnic started. I was just saying that there aren’t a lot of people in the park right now, but we should still find a place with enough privacy.” 
The way Mingyu nods is like a puppy tilting its head. God, the way you’d commit arson for this guy. With a soft sigh, you continue. “And, I also have my own basket, which I left at an empty space I found by where I was standing. Let’s go there first, then we can move further into the park where not a lot of people will potentially find or bother us.” 
It takes you guys a few minutes to go and fetch your own basket, and probably another ten to fifteen minutes to find a spot for your picnic date. Mingyu is extremely happy with the grassy little patch surrounded by tall bushes and large trees, a big smile on his face as he takes out the picnic blanket he brought along. He can’t wait to show you all the food he made. 
Once he’s done setting the blanket, you take off your pastel pink mary janes and settle down on the blanket with your picnic basket nearby. Mingyu looks at you, a bit surprised. “You’re taking off your shoes?” The question makes you narrow your eyes. 
“And why wouldn’t I be taking off my shoes? To make this brand new blanket dirty?” His mouth forms an ‘O’ shape, before he nods. You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at him. “You can keep your shoes on, if you want. There’s no need to stink up this place.”
“HEY! I’m not that unhygienic, that last time I just forgot about laundry for some reason. I already told you… And I’m not wearing any socks today…” Mingyu trails off, discarding his loafers with a ‘hmph’. 
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Stop sulking, Gyu.” You watch him as he sits down as well, adjusting his trousers a bit to be more comfortable in this position. He overlooks you for now, reaching for his basket and carefully taking out the desserts first. Then, he produces a bunch of different tupperwares out of it, placing all the food in the center of the mat, between you two. 
You reach for your own basket as well, cautiously eyeing your boyfriend who seems to be extremely invested in unpacking all the food. The only things you’ve brought along today for the picnic date are flowers, a flower vase, a small canvas and some tubes of watercolor, besides your necessary belongings. Although it’s kinda embarrassing, it can’t be helped because Mingyu insisted on bringing everything for the date. 
“Gyu,” you murmur, hands anxiously gathering the loosely made bouquet inside your basket. It’s oddly nerve-wracking. You’ve never really received or given flowers in a relationship before. 
“Hm?” He doesn’t look up, eyes furrowed as he rummages through his basket. With a sharp inhale, you slowly retrieve the flowers, extending them towards him. Mingyu immediately turns to look at your shaky hands holding a bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs, his face heating up as he realizes what’s going on.
“____, my baby,” he coos, bringing his hands to wrap around your trembling ones. “It looks so pretty, did you bring them for me?” You avoid eye-contact, but nod to give him confirmation. The wave of weird emotions that hits Mingyu is hard for him to explain. Usually, he’s been the one giving flowers to his partners in relationships. But, being on the receiving end for the first time, he feels as if he’s on top of the world. 
“C’mere.” He leans in to grab your waist, bringing you closer to him, before hoisting you up a little to place you on his lap. Mingyu fixes your dress, then  pulls you closer to rest against his chest. His left hand remains wrapped up around your midsection. “Thank you so much, love. I’m over the moon that you got me flowers. I’m so lucky to be dating you, angel.” He presses a kiss on your cheek, your heart almost bursting inside your chest. 
“Do you know Victorian floriography?” you look at him, slightly embarrassed. When he shakes his head as ‘no’, you go on, “It’s the language of flowers. Back then, gifted flowers used to have hidden meanings… But it’s kinda coming back in trend, I guess.” 
“Oh,” Mingyu ponders, “Then, does this bouquet of Jasmine and Lilacs have a secret message as well?” You nod, looking up at him with a shy smile. 
“Find it out later, okay? For now, please explain what you’ve brought along in so many boxes…?” Trying to change the topic, you take away the flowers to put them inside the vase you brought along, settling it in an empty space between all the packed boxes of desserts.
He chuckles nervously, suddenly remembering all the food he brought. “Uh… right. I might’ve gone a bit overboard with it, but I promise, sixty percent of everything you see is made by me, with so much love.” 
“Whoa!” you exclaim. “That’s a lot of things you made with your own hands… I’m honored.” Mingyu presses a kiss on the side of your neck, nuzzling it affectionately. Goosebumps spread across your skin, and you stop yourself from making any noises. It’s… weird that he’s being so intimate while you are pretty much in public. But god, does it do things to you… 
“You haven’t tasted anything yet, though. Heck, let me show you what’s inside first.” He reaches for the closest tupperware, and to your surprise, you see various, colorful fruits, all cut up in small heart shapes and laid out in rows. 
“Omg, so cute!!” you squeal, clapping your hands together in excitement. Mingyu beams at you, clearly happy with your reaction. 
“Hehe, there’s a lot more to see!” He stretches to grab two more boxes, each revealing tteok-bokki, your mouth inevitably watering from the sight. You’ve had these delicious rice cakes made by him a few times prior, and you loved it to bits. 
He leans down to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Should I take out the chopsticks?” Mingyu closes the box with fruits in it, moving it to the side. “Let’s go from spicy to sweet, hm? I also made tiny sliders because you seem to like miniature food a lot! After these, we can have the desserts!” 
You nod in agreement, snuggling up to him more. Receiving treatment like this makes you feel like a princess. Even though you’re not sure how much he has brought along, you internally make up your mind to at least taste everything and applaud the effort he put into it.  
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Once you guys are done eating everything he had prepared himself, you urge Mingyu to take a break and save the desserts for the very end. He agrees, not willing for the date to end anytime soon. 
“I brought along something else as well… if you let me go for a bit, I can take my basket and you can hold me again.” You say after a while of chatting about this and that. Your boyfriend eyes you curiously, loosening his arms around your waist momentarily. That is enough for you to grab your basket and settle down on his lap again. 
“What did you bring? I’m so curious! Wait— tubes of paint?!” To add more to his surprise, you take out the small canvas, a literal gasp escaping Mingyu. “What can we possibly do with these? I don’t see any brushes…” 
“It’s so surprising to me that you’re always on Instagram, yet you have no clue about this.” You tease, placing the canvas in a position where both of you can access it very comfortably. He raises an eyebrow at your comment, feeling very attacked. But he refrains from saying anything.
“Let’s just start doing it, okay? It’ll make sense immediately because it’s nothing complicated.” You sigh, taking Mingyu’s palm in yours. He looks confused as you take the red watercolor tube first, getting rid of the cap and squeezing out a generous amount on the top of pinky finger. 
“Oh…” He lets you take his hand and bring it to the center of the tiny canvas, pressing the paint covered finger carefully against the paper. “But what’s that supposed to do? It just looks like a blob of paint…” Mingyu looks at you questioningly as you retreat his pinky from the canvas. 
“Oh hush, don’t be so impatient!” You scold him jokingly, pointing towards a bunch of tissues. “Clean up your finger now! You’ll find out soon enough.” He puffs out his lower lip, reaching for a tissue while grumbling.
You take the tube of blue watercolor and cover your whole thumb with a thick layer of paint. Mingyu watches you curiously while you press on your thumb in the opposite direction of his ‘blob of paint’, trying to get the sizes as close as possible. “That is so fucking adorable?!” Your boyfriend erupts in cute aggression when you lift up your thumb, revealing a heart made with your fingerprints. 
“It’s so cute, you’re so cute, fuck, I–” He stops himself before any inevitable words roll off his tongue. Mingyu is well aware that you prefer to take things slow, and he wants to make sure that you can process everything at your own pace. His thoughts are interrupted by your giggles. 
He tightens his hands right beneath your chest, pushing you close to nuzzle the crook of your neck. “Is it that funny? So fun to watch me lose my shit because of how fucking adorable you are, hm?”
“It’s not like that…” you murmur, goosebumps all over your body. “I just thought that it’s kinda amusing how you were all clueless and nagging about it earlier, then suddenly, you were screaming about how cute this is.” It’s hard for you to not make any sounds when he’s caressing your sensitive areas, but you attempt to keep your voice low and steady. 
Mingyu wishes he could explain how much that tiny heart shaped painting actually means to him. It’s almost like all your heart is into those two blobs of red and blue paint, looking back at him, telling him secrets you’ve never shared with him before. He feels all warm and fluffy inside, his senses all wrapped around your nuances. “Can I keep that for myself?” 
“Of course!” You smile brightly at him, extremely giddy that he wants to keep this small token of your feelings for him which will last way longer than the flowers. “Let the paint dry first, though.” 
“Sure, baby.” He squeezes you in his arms. “Can we have the desserts now? I know it doesn’t look like it, but there are plenty of them.” Mingyu whines, feeling sort of desperate to show you everything he bought earlier. Thankfully for him, you nod, perking up at the mention of many desserts. 
He reaches for the box with pies first, knowing very well you’ll absolutely adore them. And you do, blessing his ears with one of those cute squeals of yours, eyes sparkling at the sight in front of you. “OMG!! So pretty! And it looks delicious!” 
“Mhm, I had a feeling you’d love to have these. Let’s dig in!” Mingyu takes out a small bottle of hand sanitizer, squirting out some of it on both of your hands. These pies are very conveniently palm-sized. With its crust shaped like a heart, ruby red filling made out of cherries — it sure does make you feel hungry just by looking at it. 
“C’mon, take a bite,” your boyfriend muffles out, mouth already full of the big bite he has just taken. You nod gingerly, taking a shy bite of the pie as well. The buttery, flaky crust, paired up with a bit of the sweet cherries melt in your mouth, a satisfied sound rumbling in your throat. 
“Mm, it’s really good!” The smile on your face is like a whole trophy to Mingyu. You liked it. He’s so glad that he can’t really explain. 
“Yay!!! I got you donuts and macaroons as well!” He blurts out, all giddy looking at you savoring the sweet dessert. Once you’re done with the pie, he reaches for the boxes of both donuts and macarons, earning a small whine from you.
“I can’t eat that much… I’m almost full.” 
“Why? You only ate a little…” A frown forms on your boyfriend’s lips.
“Gyu. I had a ton of tteok-bokki. Then sliders. Then fruits. On the dessert side, I already had a pie. I’m really, really, sorry, but that looks like a lot of macarons and donuts. My stomach will either burst or I’ll just throw up at the end of this!” You try your best to make your point stand, pleading with your eyes for him to understand.
Mingyu heaves out a sigh. “Fineee. You’re gonna take the macarons back home with you, then. I bought these especially for you. And I’m not listening to any complaints about that.” 
“Gyu, that kinda makes me feel bad though… you basically did everything for this date.” 
“Baby, I did everything voluntarily because I wanted to treat you like this. Like you deserve to be treated. And c’mon now! You brought flowers for me, and came up with a fun little activity to do. What about all the dates we’ve had before that were totally planned by you? So pretty please, with a cherry on top, don’t turn me down?” 
You turn in his lap to face him, blinking back the silly tears that clouded your vision. He hums in approval as you wind your arms around his neck and pull him in for a sweet kiss. Although, you pull back soon enough, resting your foreheads together instead. “You mean so much to me,” you mutter, eyes locking with him. 
A strange warmth spreads throughout Mingyu, radiating inside-out and filling up his heart. He doesn’t really know what to say back — simply because he’s over aware of the fact that he is completely and utterly in love with you. But he doesn’t want to hurry, he wants to move with you, as you slowly open up your petals to him, like a flower does to a sun. 
“I wish there were words in my vocabulary capable of explaining how much you mean to me.” He smiles softly, pressing a butterfly kiss to the corner of your lips. Mingyu absolutely adores the sound of your giggle that drifts to his ears. 
“You’re so cheesy, I kinda like it.” 
“Just 'kinda'?” He can’t help his own chuckle. “And here I thought I was getting a lot of charm points for being cheesy.” 
“You can be cheesy all you want, baby. I think most of your charm points come from your physical features at a first glance.” You boop his nose, both of you bursting out in laughter. 
“Are you saying that I’m handsome?” 
“Mhm. Very handsome, in fact. Very tall as well. Very… very big too.” You can see the playful glint vanishing from his eyes. Mingyu inhales a shaky breath. 
“Let’s get to those donuts now. Please?” 
You nod, moving around to get back on your previous position. He bites back a groan as your hands feel around, squeeze and grab on his thighs before you settle down. “What donuts did you bring?” 
“Glazed donuts, cause you really liked them the last time!” He wraps an arm around your waist, adjusting you to be closer to him. Mingyu is well aware that he’s barely holding up. But, he’s trying to convince himself that being closer to you can get him through his… hard times.
“Whoa omg these look so good?!” His inner monologue is interrupted by your squeal. A small smile curls up his lips. 
“Right? Dig in, baby!” He encourages, leaning forward to take a donut for himself. You follow suit, excited to bite into the sugary heaven. 
The sweet dough crumbles in your mouth upon the first bite, the sugar glaze hitting your taste buds just right. As you savor the pleasant taste of it, a satisfied hum rumbles in your throat. “Gyu, this tastes heavenly. Way better than the last time we had it! And I loved the ones we got back then?!”
“I’m so glad, my angel. I’ll get you more the next time we meet up~” Your boyfriend nuzzles your hair affectionately, his heart doubling in his chest from adoration. It’s hard to explain how great he feels simply by seeing you happy, enjoying your food. Maybe, it’s because Mingyu himself loves to eat heartily and cook for his people; he hopes that he can see you like this forever. 
It would be so nice, he would cook for you everyday and help you out whenever you felt like cooking, and dine-out and order in as your heart desires. 
You’re almost done with your second donut by now, but Mingyu hasn’t said anything or even touched his portion after saying that he’d bring you more. Kind of worried, you turn your head to look at him, finding his eyes transfixed on you. 
“... Hello? Why’d you go silent? Is something in my hair or—” you stop halfway when you notice his gaze has shifted to your lips now. It makes you swallow nervously, anticipation building up in your system. You know that look all too well. 
“There’s something on your lips.” His voice is nonchalant, relaxing your senses a bit. You nod, attempting to wipe off the crumbs with your hand, but he catches your wrist, leaning in swiftly to wrap your lower lip between his. 
Goosebumps spread all over your body, hands automatically winding around his neck as he suckles on the delicate flesh of your lips. His free hand rests against the small of your back, urging you to turn towards him fully. 
You really don’t understand how he can kiss you this good when you are yet to open up to his tongue. Your body has already started to heat up, breathing uneven. With shaky hands, you clumsily take off his glasses, his lips curling up in a smile against yours. 
Soon enough, he coaxes your mouth open, his hand letting go of your wrist and cupping your jaw instead. You both moan simultaneously, crazed by the sweet aftertaste of the desserts. Mingyu is extremely eager, taking the lead as always, your body starting to quake from the mind numbing kiss.
Picking up on your struggle to breathe, he pulls away just enough to whisper against your lips. “You have to keep breathing through your nose, baby. You can’t just forget to breathe, even if I’m kissing you so good for so long that your mind goes blank.” 
You flush at the mention of your usual complaint against him whenever he has to give you space to breathe during a make-out. “I… I try, I swear, but it’s…” you trail off between huffs, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
“Aw, am I giving my princess a hard time?” Mingyu pats your head, nudging you to get back up. You nod, a small chuckle escaping him. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he leans in for a brief peck. “And so pretty, looking like a fairy today.” 
He returns to the kiss with full passion, tongue immediately entangling with yours, a low groan escaping him. You taste so maddeningly sweet, like an endless source of honey to his bee. He suckles on your tongue, his teeth nibbling on your lips, reducing you to an absolute mess. You are, quite literally, shaking, arousal dripping down your core and ruining the pretty lace thong you wore for today’s date. 
“Aah–” you gasp as he trails down to press wet, sloppy kisses down your neck, hands pulling at the sleeves of your dress. You don’t stop him, threading your fingers through the luscious locks of his wavy hair. Mingyu has nearly forgotten that you guys are technically in public, and has made you do the same. He drags your bra strap off your shoulder using his teeth, biting and sucking on the newly exposed skin.
One of his hands is wrapped around your waist to secure you, his other hand slipping beneath the skirt of your dress, stroking your thighs. Only now, you suddenly remember that you’re on a picnic date in a somewhat secluded part of a very public park. “Mm–mingyu– don’t—” you struggle with your words,  overwhelmed by his ministrations. He’s everywhere — touching, squeezing, licking, kissing and biting. “Stop, please.” You whimper, his actions halting immediately. 
“What’s wrong?” Mingyu lifts his head to assess your situation, looking dazed himself, his voice hoarse. You swallow nervously, your own eyes glazed with tears that had appeared because he made you feel a bit too good.
“We… we’re in public,” You state firmly. “We can get caught in a very indecent state if we keep going.” 
Mingyu takes a look around the surroundings. Tall bushes and plenty of large trees cover this small patch of area entirely. He knew exactly what he was doing when he chose this spot. One would have to wander off very far into the park and physically push off bushes to get in here like you guys did. Which, to him, seems extremely unlikely. 
“I wouldn’t call this public, my love.” He takes both of your hands to entwine your fingers. “And I highly doubt someone would come this far and specifically peek around the bushes to catch us. You do remember how long it took us to get here, no?” 
“Yeah… but, what if—” 
“There are no ‘what if’s, my angel. Even if someone did come this far into the park, they’d still have to manhandle the bushes to be able to see what’s on the other side. Please, trust me…” 
His broken look stirs something in you, and you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “I do trust you. And I want you as much as you want me,” you whisper shyly, your thong uncomfortably damp and sticking to your skin. “But, wouldn’t it be better if we go home quickly, and um, finish what we started…?” 
Mingyu sighs, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you as close as possible. “I don’t think I can hang on for that long, baby. I need you so fucking bad. I’ve been struggling to keep myself together for an embarrassingly long time now. You– You just look so goddamn pretty. Like a tiny little fairy who is all mine to ruin. Fuck, just… just see what you’ve done to me.” He takes one of your hands and guides it to his crotch, blood rushing to your face. 
“If you want me just as much as I do, you must be soaking wet, right?” His whisper is hot against your neck, right hand holding your own to his growing bulge while his left hand slips between your thighs. You gasp when he rubs his fingers against your ruined underwear, a satisfied grunt reverberating in his throat. “Fuck.” Mingyu curses under his breath, his hips bucking up to your joined hands.
“You really want us to go home in this state? Hm?” His voice is a whine, only adding more to your devastation. To be really honest, all logical reasoning left your system the moment he made you feel his hard-on. And then he had to feel your drenched thong in return as well, arousing you to the extent where you don’t really give a fuck about being in the open anymore.
“Hngh, fine— do it quickly.” You whimper, every inch of you begging for his touch, to be relieved. Mingyu smiles, ecstatic upon your words, hungry lips finding yours for a kiss. You moan at the contact, pussy clenching around nothing. 
“As my princess wishes.” He hums, pulling down your dress to reveal your bra. His pupils dilate at the sight in front of him. Even when he dragged down the straps of your bra with his teeth, he didn’t think you’d be wearing a rather provocative lacey piece today. “Fuck,” Mingyu bunches up your dress around your waist, a groan escaping him.
Is this another fantasy of his? Cause no, fuck, you sure do look like it. 
The delicate lace work barely covers anything, his cock throbbing inside the confines of his boxer-briefs. He feels like he’s high. “Baby,” your boyfriend rasps, “do you even understand what you do to me? Hm?” 
“You like it?” your voice is a whisper, fingers digging into his shoulder from nervousness. A part of you knows the answer already, but still, hearing it out loud from him always makes you feel butterflies. 
“You’re really asking me that? Fuck, I love it, you’re so fucking pretty, I can’t believe that you’re real, and mine.” Mingyu groans, one of his hands reaching for your bra and pulling at its cups. His mouth immediately attaches to your left breast as soon as it is released. You gasp, body quivering at the touch. He bites and suckles on the soft flesh teasingly before reaching for your hardened nipple. 
You whimper out his name, fingers gripping on his hair. The way his tongue swirls around and suckles on the sensitive bundle of nerves makes you dizzy. More arousal leaks out of your core, desperation cresting higher and higher. You need him in you, right now.
But Mingyu is lost in your breasts, reaching for your right one after a while, teeth dragging over the nipple before his tongue slurps at it. You quiver and whine in his arms from all the sensations you’re feeling. He knows exactly what to do to make you feel good, and he never slacks off at that. 
“You’re so perfect, my little angel.” Mingyu hums, his right hand groping your left boob. “Fits so perfectly in my hand, so cute,” he murmurs before looking up at you. As he meets your tearful eyes, he loses a bit more of his sanity. 
“Damn it, you look so—” he stops short, breathing heavily. Will he ever get used to the way you look during intimacy? Probably not. The flushed face, teary eyes and parted lips always gets him.
“Gyu,” you whine, hugging him tightly. “It hurts, please do something,” your whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. Mingyu can’t help but smirk, wondering if he should tease you. “Need you in me.” your sweet plea stirs him, more blood rushing towards the south.
“Fuck it.” He reaches between your thighs, cupping your pussy. The soaked, warm fabric makes him growl. Your hips immediately start rocking, generating friction — something you’ve been craving for so long now. You sigh in relief, using his hand to stimulate yourself.
“What if someone sees you like this right now? So needy, humping my hand?” Mingyu asks, amused. Goosebumps spread over your skin, and you hide your face in the crook of his neck. However, you don’t stop moving your hips, inner walls clenching in desperation. 
“Do–don’t say that,” you whimper, “so embarrassing.” 
“Is that so? But you’re still rubbing into my hand, though.” 
“It’s because you won’t help me…” 
Mingyu can’t help but chuckle, his thumb finding your clit and pressing on it firmly. You scream out, a strong pulse of pleasure spreading through your nerves. He shushes you, alarmed. “Shh, you can’t be so loud today, baby… what if someone hears you and decides to check what’s going on?” 
You bite your tongue, absorbing his words. The thought paralyzes you from embarrassment, but for some reason, your pussy has a mind of its own. “It’s all your fault,” you croon, “it’s all because you can’t control yourself.” 
“I already said this like a hundred times, but, you look so fucking pretty in this cute little dress, baby. So fucking pretty. How am I supposed to control myself? When all I can think about is ruining my sweet angel?” Mingyu rasps, his calloused fingers rubbing your clit in tight circles. You’re certain that your legs will give up at this rate, your whole body teetering from the stimulation. 
“Bu–but—” you lower your voice to a whisper, “people will catch us like this, what then?” He presses a fleeting kiss on the corner of your lips, pushing the soaked lace of your thong to the side and sliding his middle finger between your labia against your slit. You swallow back a moan, biting the inside of your cheek.
“Guess you’re gonna have to keep it quiet in that case.” Mingyu pushes the digit into your sopping hole, making a ‘shlick’ sound that surprises both of you. “Fuck, did you hear that? Did you hear how wet you are for me?” You squeeze him in response, nerve endings on fire. It feels so incredibly good to finally have something fill your aching core. 
“Move, please,” you whimper, getting impatient. As if to test you, he slowly starts dragging his finger down, before pushing it back inside in a rough manner. You muffle your squeal against his shoulder, overwhelmed yet wanting more of him.
Soon enough, Mingyu loses the patience to tease you, his own urges kicking in. His ring finger slides into the depths of your molten warmth as well, your walls clenching around him from excitement. “You drive me fucking crazy,” he hisses under his breath. Slow, languid movements let him feel the way your arousal coats his skin in a silky veil, making him feel kind of suffocated around his crotch.
“Baby,” you whine, “wan’ more, please.” The burning ache for a release fires through your system, every single one of your cells begging for more. A breathy laugh rings in your ears, to your dismay.
“Want what exactly, love?” Mingyu’s eyes are twinkling with mischief, knowing very well that he’s pushing your boundaries right now. 
“Harder,” your choked whisper is hot against the shell of his ear. He clenches his teeth, thumb pressing down onto the swollen nub before anything. A gasp escapes you, face falling to rest in the crook of his neck, breathing uneven. His fingers pick up speed eventually, your lower stomach in knots, a shiver running down your spine. If your mouth wasn’t pressed up against his skin, you probably would’ve blabbered about how good he’s making you feel. 
It doesn’t take long for you to crest up towards the pinnacle, whole body convulsing, preparing itself for the rushing relief it’s about to experience. Mingyu, knowing very well that you’re about to finish, adds a third digit into your slippery warmth, seemingly triggering your orgasm. You muffle your cries in his neck, falling onto him as your legs give up entirely. He holds you securely with his free arm, feeling kinda dizzy himself. His neck is all slobbered up, covered with messy bites you left while trying to silence yourself. 
It takes you longer than usual to recover, finding the strength to stand on your knees. Blood rushes to your face when you regard the state of your boyfriend’s neck, even the collar of his black polo a victim to your actions. Mingyu, on the other hand, barely holding on, finally starts to pull out his fingers from your pussy, your juices leaking out on his hand profusely from the movement. A breathy whimper escapes you, nerves alight for pleasure once again. 
“Fuck, take a look at this,” He holds up his hand between you two, the slightly viscous liquid catching the sunlight and glowing, making you flush. “You treat me s’well, baby, servin’ me liquid gold.” His words only make you even more embarrassed, eyes avoiding him at all costs. The lewd sound of his slurping sends a tingle through your core, droopy eyes shyly catching him lick his fingers clean. You shudder a little when he moans satisfactorily, eyes trained on you the whole time.
In a sudden surge of boldness, you reach out to caress his jawline, bringing him closer for a kiss. Mingyu hums, a smile forming on his lips before attacking your mouth with full force. You gasp and moan while he finds his way to your tongue, the growingly familiar taste of yourself on his saliva causing a new surge of arousal to your core. Quite desperate to feel him now, you fumble with the button on his trousers blindly, undoing it quickly before reaching for the zipper. 
“Fuck,” Mingyu pulls away with a hiss, his stomach tightening from the feeling of your hand lightly pressing onto his clothed cock. Your eyes greedily devour the outline of his boner, almost poking at the material of his boxer briefs. Pussy clenching at the thought of him filling you up, you pull at the waistband of his underwear. 
“My god, Mingyu,” you swallow nervously, unsure how to react as his heavy cock springs out of its confines, slapping against his tummy. You’ve never seen it this angry and twitching, head covered with a light sheen of his pre-cum. Heart almost beating out of your chest, you reach for him, hands delicately wrapping around his length and giving it a few, slow pumps. 
“Baby, fuck—” His eyes shut close, teeth digging into his plump lower lip to restrict any noises. With your thumb, you spread the gathering pre-cum all over his tip, making him whimper in the process. If you don’t get fucked right now, you might just lose your mind. 
“Need you,” you whisper, pressing a fleeting kiss on his nose. Mingyu looks as if he’s pained, a defeated sigh escaping him. 
“My love, I– I need you too. So, so bad, can’t explain.” His eyes tear up suddenly, “B-but—” 
“What happened…?” You ask, alarmed by his expression.
“I— I don’t have a condom.” He frowns, wrapping his arms around your back and burying his face in the comfort of your chest. “I’m so sorry, baby.” Your heart drops to your stomach because of how devastating his tone is. 
“Nooo! It’s okay… um, we didn’t know this would happen, y’know? So, um, don’t apologize, please. And don’t talk like that.” You nudge him to look at you. 
“Yeah but… what are we gonna do now? We agreed to be safe from the beginning, so–”
“Well, I’m on birth control for my periods either way, so it’s okay.” You cut him off, desperate for him at this point. 
Mingyu looks up at you, hesitant. “Angel, are you really sure about that?”
A sigh escapes you. You know why he is feeling uncertain, you know that you are the reason. “Gyu, I don’t know anything, but I might just go crazy if you don’t fuck me right now.”
He inhales a shaky breath, your words toying with the few last strings of self-control left in him. “Okay, what about this — I’ll only put the tip inside, make you feel super good so you come quickly for me, and then I’ll pull out before I make a mess.” 
Your body shakes from anticipation. “Just the tip?” 
“Just the tip, baby.” 
Even though it’s not exactly what you had in your mind, you agree quickly. Anything to have him inside you. Also, you’re not too sure how that will possibly work out. You’re almost certain that you’ll end up getting more than just the tip.
Mingyu grabs your waist to position you right on top of him, the urgency in his actions painfully obvious. You gladly comply, too needy to say anything. As you feel his bulbous tip lining up against your entrance, you lean in to touch your foreheads together. “Gyu, I can’t wait anymore, need you right now.” 
With a groan, he slowly guides you down his length, only letting his tip and the following inch inside. You whimper, struggling a little as you get used to the stretch. It’s kind of astonishing how even just that fills you up satisfactorily. But still, you crave all of him, your body knowing the euphoria of having him up in the furthest nooks of your pussy very well. “You’re so big,” you murmur, inner walls clenching around him greedily, eager for more. Mingyu huffs out deep breaths, his ears turning red. How cute.
He collects himself in a moment, firm hands around your hips to make sure you don’t slide down further than he intends to give you today. “You feel s’good, so wet and hot, I feel like I’ll melt.” Mingyu sighs, helping you ride him, his thumb rolling your clit in lazy circles. 
You muffle your cries as he moves your hips in a slow and steady pace, inevitably sliding down his cock, little by little. However, he doesn’t really notice it, lost in the feeling of your pussy squeezing him so deliciously. “Gyu, harder,” you plead, a bit tired of this torturously slow pace. 
Mingyu complies almost immediately, pulling you even closer, his own hips bucking up to meet you halfway, while he continues to guide your movements. You moan out happily, arms winding around his neck. His thrusts are shallow, but the frenzied movements trigger more pleasure in you.
Eventually, he loses control over your movements, momentarily giving up against the fiery impulses running through his nerves. With all the lubrication between you two, you slide down as much as possible with nothing to restrict you. A string of incoherent words leave you, your body extremely giddy to get what you’ve wanted for so long. 
“Fuck, no, this isn’t working,” Mingyu finally regains his senses, groaning as the untouched parts of his cock are engulfed by your warmth. He swiftly pins you down on an empty side of the picnic blanket. “Bad, bad girl.” 
You squirm under him, whining while he pulls out of you, until only the tip is inside. “Now tell me, what should I do, now that you’ve broken our little deal.”
“Fuck me.” you whimper, your eyes teary by now. Mingyu tuts, shaking his head. You try your best to channel your pitiful, puppy dog eyes, ready to beg if that’s necessary.
“Such crude words from my sweet, little angel.” He sighs, “You’re really into testing my patience, aren’t you? Does it make you happy? Watching me lose my senses over your words?” 
“Don’t hold yourself back, please. I want to make you feel good too. Please, Gyu. Fuck me, make me yours, I don’t even care if people see or hear us anymore. Please.” Your voice is broken, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Mingyu swallows nervously.
“Fucking hell.” The growled expletive marks the end of whatever self-control shit he was on. With one hard thrust, he smoothly fills up your touch-starved pussy entirely, coaxing out a loud moan of relief from you. His right hand immediately covers your mouth. “You might not care about some rando catching us like this anymore but I’ll be damned if someone sees you like this.” 
Mingyu lets go of your wrists, putting his left hand on the small of your back to support your body. “Don’t you dare complain about how you can’t walk later. You brought this upon yourself, remember.” He nibbles on your earlobe teasingly before starting to move against you. His thrusts are on the rougher side, your stomach tightening as the pleasure starts to build-up. 
With your free hands, you reposition his palm covering your mouth, suckling on his fingers instead. In response, you feel his cock twitch so vividly in your pussy, a groan reverberating in his throat. “You’re a fucking menace, you know that?” 
Mingyu pounds into you in a frenzy, quite obsessed with the raw feeling of your spongy flesh gushing around his cock. You moan and cry around his fingers, clenching happily as you feel your release right around the corner. He also picks up his pace, grinding down onto your clit in the process. Your brain has lost all the critical thinking power, salty streaks running down your cheeks as you’re overwhelmed by the sensations.
You remove his fingers from your mouth, desperate to be heard. “‘m gonna come–” 
“Fuck, come for me, love, I’m gonna pull out,” Mingyu grunts, his pace faltering as his movements lose rhythm, inching closer to his own release.
“No, no— come in me, baby. Please. Don’t ruin my dress.” He has no idea what you are on about, but he’d be lying if he said that it doesn’t sound tempting.
“Princess, do you even know what you’re saying?” He still asks, praying that you come back to your senses, for both of your good.
“I want you to come in me.” You manage to blurt out before your body convulses as the orgasm hits, gummy walls squeezing his cock to a halt. Mingyu curses under his breath, putting his fingers back in your mouth before you can scream your lungs out. Soon enough, he also reaches his peak, the thick, milky white liquid filling up your pussy to the brim. 
“_____, fuck…” he whimpers, reveling in the newfound intimacy between you. You urge him to lay on top of you, arms wrapping around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.
“Gyu,” you whisper, “you mean so much to me.” Mingyu nuzzles your face adoringly, pressing butterfly kisses over your bare skin, wherever he can reach.
“And to me, you’re like the sun.” His silly words make you laugh.
“Why’s that?” 
“Because I’m like the earth orbiting around you, thriving because of your warmth and light?”
You flush at his words, beyond touched that he’d think of you in such a beautiful way. “You make me sound so insincere, Gyu.” Mingyu laughs at your pout, starting to get back up. 
“Yeah well, I still have to figure out what your flowers mean, remember?” He reaches for the packet of napkins lying nearby, sighing at the sight in front of his eyes.
“Yeah…” you trail off, “Do that once you’re home, okay?” He nods, seemingly distracted.
“I’m sorry love, I made such a mess.” 
“We.” 
“Hm?” 
“We made a mess. So don’t be sorry. I’ll help you clean up.” You offer him a smile, which he matches happily. 
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Mingyu scrutinizes you one last time, making sure that you look presentable from head to toe. “Yeah, everything looks okay… except that your dress is all wrinkled…”
“I told you it’s fine, I’ll fix it up after a wash, don’t worry!” You reassure him, redoing your braid. “And please wash this outfit as soon as you get home, okay? I know it all dried up now, but still…” 
“I could say the same about your panties.” He chuckles, raising his eyebrows at you. 
“Yeah, but I doubt it’ll be wearable after today.” You sigh, checking yourself on your selfie camera. “C’mon, let’s go now. It’s afternoon already!” 
Mingyu hands you your basket, holding your free hand as you slowly take a few steps. “Are you sure you can walk?” 
“Yes, positive! I have to get home somehow.” You smile through a wince, making him shake his head. 
“Let’s go to my place. You can go back tomorrow morning after you’ve recovered from the pain. I’ll cook us dinner, help you take a bath, give you meds and cuddle you to sleep.” Mingyu offers, pushing off the bushes so that you guys can finally leave your little sanctuary. 
You both step out on the nearby trail, intertwining your fingers together back again. “Why do you always make it so hard to decline, Gyu?” He gives your hand a firm squeeze, winking at you playfully. 
“It’s a part of the package, baby.” His cocky chuckle infuriates you, but lord, is he right about that. 
This man might just be the end of you. But would you really mind it?
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end of act one ♡ next
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˗ˏˋ꒰ 💌 end notes ꒱
wahhh you made it to the end!! thank you so much for reading 🥹🫶🏼; i apologize if there are any mistakes in there, this is very roughly edited jdjfhfjhjff!! BUT i really hope that this was enjoyable and i was able to portray the lovebirds well 🤭! do let me know what you thought of this, please! reblogs and comments are extremely appreciated <333! you can also send feedback through asks if you’d prefer that! 💖
until next time!
p.s: i’m pretty new to caratblr and i’d be grateful if you guys could recommend me some blogs to follow 🥺... (you can recommend your own blog as well)!
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mint-yooxgi · 4 months
Text
Fight or Flight Mini Masterlist
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Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab
Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut
Pairing: Mingi X Reader
Words: 57,852 (Yes, you read that right, almost 57.9k words)
Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI
Warnings and links found below the cut
Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.
A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~
Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?
P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!
→ Part One
→ Part Two
→ Part Three
→ Part Four
→ Part Five
→ Part Six {M}
459 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 6 months
Text
Adult Education Part 7 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jessica can't get enough of the comfort she feels around Jake, and he can't help but press her to define what they are doing. Everything feels heated and still sweet when they hang out for the day, and when she brings up the alumni event, he's immediately onboard.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+
Length: 3700 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Jessica couldn't remember the last time she felt this comfortable and confident around someone else. She had grown into the understanding that her own company was the best company for her, and especially for the past year, she had kept contact with most people to a minimum. Keeping them at a professional arm's length as much as possible. But when she was with Jake, she didn't feel like she needed to be quiet and keep her head down to survive. 
"I got pretty much every kind of snack for today," he told her as they stood in his kitchen. "Just because I don't know all of your favorites yet."
Yet. That was the second time he'd made her heart flutter like this. He also told her he was getting attached to her. And now his cheeks were a little pink as she picked up some chips and salsa.
"I told you I'm not picky as long as you have Sam Adams for me."
"I'll make sure I always have it," he promised as he took two bottles out of the refrigerator and followed her to the living room. "You relax and shout to me if anyone scores, okay?"
"Where are you going?" she asked from her spot on the couch as he set the beers down and left again. She noticed the stack of journals she'd given him were sitting near the corner of the coffee table. 
"Just going to add everything to the crockpot so we can have dinner later."
Jessica settled back into the cushions and watched him walk away, his shirt hugging his broad shoulders. He was perhaps even more handsome than Brian Conley, which was something she would have never thought possible. When she and Brian were sleeping together, she thought he was the most attractive man she'd ever seen. Ten years older. Gray hair mixed in with chestnut brown. Icy blue eyes. But now she was coming around to the idea of someone her own age, with lighter hair and pretty green eyes. 
When Jake returned a minute later and settled down right next to her, even though there was plenty of room, she asked, "How old are you?"
He took the jar of salsa from her hand and opened it as he said, "Thirty. I'd ask you how old you are, but my mom would be really disappointed if she ever learned that I did. So if you'd like to tell me, that's fine, but I'm not asking."
Jessica laughed as she opened the bag of chips and curled her legs up onto the couch so her thigh was resting on his. "How would your mom ever find out anyway?"
Jake scoffed as he scooped salsa onto a chip. "You don't think she's going to want to meet my girlfriend?" He shoved the whole thing into his mouth before grabbing more. "She'd get the information out of you somehow, I'm sure."
She sat there quietly and broke a chip in half before nibbling on it as she tried not to smile. She hadn't been in a relationship since right after grad school. Most guys didn't seem inclined to want to do more than sleep with her. Her brand of nerdy was a hard sell. She was smarter than almost everyone else, she was introverted, and she preferred playing Dungeons & Dragons or reading a book to going out. Well, excluding an evening at Chippy's. 
"I'm thirty one," she said softly with a grin. 
"Perfect," he replied, casually scooping more salsa onto a chip. "I also wouldn't be upset if you told me if you bought that green underwear you were looking at on your phone."
She started nibbling on the other half of the chip as Jake's arm rubbed hers. "Maybe." He was looking at her out of the corner of his eye before turning away from the football game completely to face her. "Okay... yes, I bought the set," she said, biting her lip. "You're missing the game."
"I don't really care about the game all that much. Like I said before, I think I've gotta be the world's worst Longhorns fan."
"You're terrible," she confirmed as he held out the jar of salsa for her. 
His gaze dipped down to her lips. "Why are you so far away?" he asked softly. 
She wanted to laugh, because she was practically sitting on his lap. Instead she leaned in and kissed his cheek as she said, "What was I thinking?" Jake's body was big and warm and cozy as he draped his arm around her shoulders. She snuggled in close to him with her cheek resting on his chest. She dipped a chip into the jar he was holding and teased him with it before she shoved it into his mouth. 
"Thanks, Baby," he murmured as he chewed it up. Then she took the jar and the chips and set them on the table and grabbed the beers instead. They sat cuddled up, sipping the drinks, and Jake was actually less annoying when the Longhorns scored than she had anticipated. She just relaxed into him as the condensation from her bottle dripped occasionally onto his jeans, but he didn't complain, so she didn't move. 
"You want another one now?" he asked, taking her empty bottle in the same hand as his and kissing her hair. 
"No," she whispered. "And don't get up. I'm comfortable."
"Okay," he replied softly, leaning forward just enough to let the bottles drop with a thud onto the area rug. 
Jessica pushed him back with her palm on his abs, and she bit her lip as she felt his muscles. "I said don't move."
"You're in charge, Reedy."
--------------------------
This was all wildly thrilling for Jake. He was with a beautiful woman who wanted to chill on his couch and run her hand back and forth across his abs while they watched football together. He never did this kind of thing. Ever. This was indulgent in a way he didn't usually operate. 
When Jessica looked up at him through her eyelashes, he reached over and adjusted her glasses. Then he felt her hand dip inside his shirt and come to rest just above his jeans, fingers stroking almost to the point of tickling. And he wasn't even watching the game. Maybe it was halftime. He wasn't sure. It didn't matter. 
Why did he suddenly want a girlfriend so badly that he kept thinking about it? He was thinking about how this could be a normal weekend for him. And how he could have Jessica curled up with him like this in bed. 
He was staring. He knew he was. But so was she. And her small hand was moving across his skin in the most addicting way. "Reedy," he whispered, and that was all it took. She planted her hand with her fingertips inside his jeans, and Jake groaned as she kissed him. When her hand slid up his abs to his chest and pulled his shirt up with it, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her until she was in his lap. 
In the deepest recesses of his brain, Jake knew he couldn't let anything too wild happen today. Just kissing. Just like this. But when he let his hand trail down to Jessica's round ass, he realized the fabric of her leggings was thin and that he could feel her thong through it. It felt lacy. He wanted to know what it looked like. 
He palmed her a little rougher, until she broke the kiss and rubbed herself against him. "Oh, Jessica," he groaned, taking in the sight of her wide eyes and crooked glasses. She was raking her fingers slowly through his chest hair while Jake squeezed her butt. He couldn't think straight as her lips met his again, and then his hand was up the back of her shirt.
Her skin was so damn soft, and Jake was not going to be able to conceal the fact that he was getting hard for her when her knee kept nudging him through his jeans. Her feather soft kisses were becoming more demanding as she brought her other hand up to ruin his tidy hair. And fuck if he could control himself. 
In an instant, she was on her back along the couch with Jake on top of her. She let out a surprised giggle as her head came to rest on the cushion. "This okay?" he asked, kissing along her jaw. 
Jessica responded by spreading her thighs so he could settle against her, and Jake had to keep reminding himself that this was a marathon, not a sprint. But her body was warm and inviting, and she was so responsive to his touch. Every gasp from her lips had him pushing his hands a little further up her sides and sucking a little harder on her neck. 
"Jake," she moaned, rolling her hips up against him. 
"Fuck," he gasped, one hand sliding between her back and the couch as he pushed himself against her this time. Her lips were parted, and she was digging her fingers into his shoulders. Jake moaned when she wrapped one leg around his hip. Her shirt was pushed up almost to her tits, and he wanted to taste all of her skin. But she pulled him close for another kiss, and Jake knew he had to pump the brakes. 
He slowed it all down, easing his hand up to her back instead of her perfect ass. He let each kiss taper off until his lips were barely brushing hers. And then he felt her leg slide down from his hip as she took his hand and guided it further up her shirt until he was touching her bra. She chased his lips as he pulled away from her, and now she looked embarrassed.
"Jessica. Not a horny quickie on the couch. Not for our first time together."
"Okay. Right," she whispered, her fingers tracing along his neck. "Do you want to go to your bedroom?"
He kissed her cheek and said, "I think we should save it for another day."
As he slowly let his hand trail down her tummy, she turned her face toward the TV and laughed a little awkwardly. "Is it that obvious that it's been a long time for me? I'm sure that's not the case for you."
He didn't quite know what to say. "No, it's not obvious. And no, you're not wrong," he murmured, his brow creasing as he leaned closer for a soft kiss. Had it really just been two weeks ago that he brought someone home from the bar? "But it has actually been a very long time since someone mattered like you do. So the pacing is kind of important to me."
"You're sweet." A pretty smile touched her lips, and then he let himself kiss her belly before pulling her up so she was sitting and looking at him. Her hair was a little messy, and her glasses were crooked again, and Jake was suddenly afraid he was going to fuck this all up. She adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers and leaned in to kiss him one time. 
It really was halftime now, and Jake watched her stand and look through the stack of journals on the table. Her voice was still soft and breathless as she glanced at him and asked, "Where's the one with my phone number? I wanted to show you something in the article I wrote."
Jake wanted to laugh or maybe cry. This woman thought he was smart. Well, he knew he was smart, but nobody else ever seemed to care if he was. "It's in my bedroom."
"It's in your bedroom?"
"Yeah," he replied easily. "I'm keeping that one for sure. You can have the rest of the journals back, but not that one. I worked hard for that phone number."
She giggled. "You really did. And you did great. Can I get it out of your room?"
He thought he was going to respond by telling her yes, but instead he suddenly asked, "Are you seeing anyone else?"
Now her expression was surprised as she came to stand between his spread legs, and he looked up at her. "Are you asking me if I'm meeting other men at Chippy's and during my office hours?"
Jake nodded and swallowed hard as she bent at the waist and let her hands rest on his knees. "Yeah. I'm sure Chippy would be delighted to see you with someone else."
"No," she laughed. "I'm not seeing anyone else. Are you?"
"Absolutely not."
"Good." Her hands slid up to his thighs as she kissed him, which was doing nothing to help him get rid of the awkward half erection he was sporting. "Is it cool if I grab the journal from your room?"
"Yeah," he grunted. "You'll see it in there."
When he watched her walk away, he groaned and sprawled out on the couch. He needed to pull himself together, or she would definitely be taking someone else to Chippy's soon.
-----------------------------
To Jessica's immediate delight, she found the journal on Jake's nightstand. It was even folded open to the page with her article and phone number. She picked it up and headed back to the couch where he was sprawled out now with his head propped up on the pillow. Hot, needy sex had sounded delicious twenty minutes ago when he was grinding against her, but when she looked at him right now, she knew that's not what she needed. She'd had plenty of that in Brian's office and the backseat of his SUV. 
She didn't want to think about him. Not when Jake was reaching for her hand and pulling her down on top of him like she weighed nothing. He didn't even grunt or groan as she settled chest to chest with him. Her legs were tangled with his as he wrapped his arms around her, and she tried to keep the journal from getting smashed. 
"What do you want to talk about? I think I have the whole thing memorized," he said softly, keeping his attention on her even though the second half of the game was on. 
"I wanted to show you how I wrote about your Super Hornets," she said, unable to stop smiling now. 
"Yeah, I saw that. You know more about the damn things than I do, Dr. Reed."
She laughed. "I'm Dr. Reed again?"
"Jessica," he whispered in that drawl that made her heart clench as he rubbed her back. "You ever been up in one before? You wanna fly with me one day?"
She let the journal slide to the floor as she gaped at him. "Would I be allowed? I've always wanted to!"
He shrugged. "I can investigate it. Or I could always sneak you out onto the tarmac after dark so you can sit in the cockpit."
"That sounds scandalous."
"It would be," he confirmed with a smirk. "You could sit on my lap. I could show my throttle. Teach you how to use it."
Jessica felt warm as she kissed him, his hands heavy on her lower back. But it was sweet and intentional instead of rushed even though she was straddling his abs. She was always at least slightly turned on when she was around Jake, and she was starting to suspect he felt the same way. But his restraint was sexy. 
"I like this," she whispered between soft kisses as she ran the tip of her nose up along his. 
"Me too, Baby," he replied, and when she bit her lip and pulled away a few inches to smile, he looked like he was in awe. 
"What?" she asked. 
He shook his head. "I just can't believe you're into me."
She rolled her eyes. "You're handsome. Everyone is into you."
"That's not what I meant," he said with a laugh. "And you're obviously better than everyone else."
Jessica had to reel in her ridiculous grin as she threaded her fingers through his soft hair. "Hey, can I ask you something? And feel free to say no, because it's probably going to be really, very dumb, and I won't be upset if you don't want to go-"
"Yes."
She stared at him for a beat. "I didn't even ask it yet."
"I know. Whatever it is, I'm in."
Once again, he was making her feel warm inside. And he still hadn't looked at the game. "So you'll be my date for a posh fraternity fundraiser for alumni weekend?"
He pushed her hair back behind her ear and said, "I don't think posh and fraternity belong in the same sentence together, but yes. I'd love to be your date. Since we're exclusive now."
"Oh, that was smoothe Lieutenant." She found herself tracing the lettering on his shirt as her cheek came to rest on his shoulder.
"I thought so, too," he whispered. Then she dozed off on him. 
-------------------------
Jake held Jessica while she slept, her breaths soft on his neck while he watched the end of the game. He should really get up and stir the chili, but he didn't want to disturb her. If dinner wasn't edible, he would just order a pizza instead. No big deal. 
She finally seemed fully comfortable with him. She was letting him hold her while she napped, and she wasn't shying away from the idea of them dating. He knew there was more to the picture with the way she made him work for it and the rumors Bradshaw's wife told him about. But she was so fucking sweet, Jake didn't care about what anyone else said. And it honestly turned him on when she made him earn his privileges with her. 
She moaned softly in her sleep and wrapped her arm around him. He was going to have to ask Bradshaw or his wife what to wear to a frat party. That's somewhere he never thought he'd be caught dead, but he found himself wanting to make Jessica happy. So exceptions could be made. 
Suddenly she popped up with both palms planted on his chest. "I can't believe I fell asleep," she mumbled, and Jake smiled at the mark on her face from where her glasses had been pressing. 
"You want dinner?" he asked as she sat up straddling his hips. Her shirt had slipped a bit, and he could see the strap of her bra. And honestly, this position was enough to get him going, the way her breasts were clearly pressed together inside her A&M tee. When she nodded, he scooped her up as he sat and then stood. 
She slid down his body with a little giggle, and soon they were both sitting on the stools at his kitchen island. He watched her dip a tortilla chip into her bowl of chili and take a bite. "This is so good," she gushed. "I don't know how to cook anything. You just put stuff in a crock pot? And it just cooks it into a meal?"
"Yep," he replied, trying not to laugh at the look on her face. Now he was thinking about buying her a crock pot. What the fuck was wrong with him? She took another bite and closed her eyes like it was the most pleasurable thing she'd ever tasted. "Baby, has nobody ever cooked for you before?"
"No," she moaned. "Unless you include my mom, and I only get to eat that for holidays. If I can manage to get back to Massachusetts."
He stroked her cheek with his fingers and said, "You want me to bring you dinner again this week? When you have office hours?"
She moaned again and climbed onto his lap to finish eating. Which turned into her straddling him again while he ran his hands all over her perfect ass again. And once again he could hardly believe he pumped the brakes so hard earlier, because eventually her lips were on his neck and her glasses were pressing into his jaw. 
"If you come by on Tuesday, I'll wear something cute to work," she informed him, and his head tipped back. 
"You always look cute."
"Then I'll wear something sexy."
Jake grunted. "Baby, you always look sexy." A few more brushes of her lips, and he found himself asking, "Do you want to spend the night?"
"Oh," she gasped, but she kissed his Adam's apple before pulling her lips away from him.
"We could cuddle. Make out," he clarified, meeting her eyes as she adjusted her glasses. "I could make you breakfast."
She bit her lip and then said, "See, this isn't fair. Now you know that the secret way to get me to do anything is with food. And I don't know what your secret is yet."
"Apparently it's girls with glasses."
Now she was laughing as she planted her hands on his shoulders. "I have a lot of work to do tomorrow at home. I need to start making up midterm exam questions."
"I could help you," he murmured, only half joking. "I solved your problem correctly the day we met, remember?"
"Jake, I will remember for the rest of my life how earnest you were the day we met."
He smiled, and he found his heart swelling with pride. "So you'll stay?"
"Next time," she whispered. "Next time I'll stay. And we can do more than cuddle and make out."
Jake pulled her a little closer with his hands still on her butt. "Yeah. Let's do that."
Eventually he packed up a container with the extra chili and linked his fingers with hers. He walked her to her car and kissed her until they were out of breath, and then he let her leave. But he missed her warmth and her hands on him. He ended up rereading her journal articles and looking up a recipe to make for Tuesday while he imagined just how sexy her outfit might be.
-------------------------
They are exclusive. She ordered the green set. She's dressing sexy on Tuesday. I'm ready. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 8
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yoonia · 7 months
Text
The (im)Perfect Ending | knj (18+)
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⤑ Summary | There are stories written about meeting the right person at the wrong time. In your story, he was the right person who was all wrong for you to claim. He was your best mistake, while you were nothing more but a small chapter in his story. A story with an ending that had been written long before you came into the picture. But then life brings you back together again, allowing your unabashed hope to slither its way back in. The only thing you can do is to wonder—will this be just another interlude in his story, or are you given a second chance to rewrite your whole story, with a new pen to write your own happy ending?
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⤑ Title | The (im)Perfect Ending ⤑ Pairings | Namjoon x female reader ⤑ Genre | Past Lovers!au, Second Chance, Infidelity, Smut, Angst
⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story involves acts of infidelity. Both characters are mature, as the story is set years after their relationship ended. Namjoon is older than OC/reader (Joon would be in his mid to late 30s, OC is in her late 20s), so there is a bit of an age gap. There will be mentions and depictions of pregnancies and surprise babies. This story is purely fictional, any similarities in the usage of name and circumstances are purely coincidental. This is roughly edited, but I hope it won’t affect your reading experience too much.
⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; infidelity, older man!Namjoon, former underclassman!reader, soft dom!Namjoon, alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, surprise babies, involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, mentions/implications of first time sex, partly clothed sex, clothed foreplay, kitchen sex, biting, rubbing, groping, body worshipping, dry humping, dry orgasm, dirty talk, mentions/implications of deep-throating, mentions/depictions of public sex, pain kink, praise kink, stripping, nudity, implied size kink, breast/nipple play, hand job, neck kissing, finger sucking, fingering, clit play, oral sex (female and male receiving), grinding, riding, biting, face fucking/riding, cum eating, hair pulling, light choking, manhandling, begging, crying (not really involved during sex), reader may have gone into a headspace at one point, orgasm control (minor/implied), doggy style, rough sex, vanilla sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, implied creampie, aftercare.
⤑ Word count | 43,8k words
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⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi | Music companion
⤑ Read on AO3
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Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if we had met earlier.  If my life would be different today if I had made different decisions then.  Had it been me who decided to walk away, just when you finally opened your heart to me?  Had I been reading things wrong, and that your parting words had meant something else?  I wonder if the things that you said to me then were never meant as words of goodbye, but a wish for something more. That we could be something else.  But there is no way that we could ever change the past, is there? And look at us now.  Our past decisions had only left us stranded on each of our own’s paths, and we have become nothing else but broken pieces drifting in the ocean of sorrow and pain, where our memories became nothing more but rotten dust haunting us in our dreams. 
“Hi.” 
A moment passes, and just when you are starting to believe that this is just another one of those dreams that have been haunting you during your long and lonely nights, the man standing before you speaks. His voice sounds so deep that you can feel its vibration reaching deep in your chest. You can almost feel his gentle words caressing your skin when he answers, 
“It’s been a while.” 
If you had thought that you have had his smile engraved so profoundly in your memories, then you would have been wrong. Because the moment he smiles, it looks nothing like what you remembered. It looks much better. Way better. And it shouldn’t be stirring the flutters in your chest or bringing warmth within your body the moment you get to see it again after so many years have passed. 
“I think ‘a while’ sounds like an understatement,” you find yourself speaking, surprising yourself with how steady your voice sounds when every bit of your senses seems to be shaking in his presence. He softly laughs at your comment, and it sounds so rich that you feel your heart swelling and beating faster. And you hate it. 
Because your heart isn’t supposed to be doing these things. Not after so long. 
“You, uh—you look good,” he says, coaxing a smile out of you, though you try your hardest to hold it back from showing. 
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Kim Namjoon,” you answer him, drawing his smile to grow a bit deeper. And again, you hate it. Not his smile. It would be impossible to hate his smile. You just hate the way you are unable to look away from it, or the way you find yourself being drawn further when his smile lingers. 
“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Namjoon says with a tenderness that isn’t supposed to be present, before his eyes flicker down, shamelessly taking you in. “Are you on your way back from work?” 
Glancing down at your handbag, the one that is so obviously showing him the necessities that you regularly carry with you to work, and then to the blazer you are wearing over your cashmere sweater and the pair of jeans that you always wear on the days when work is going slow, you nod with a smile. “Yes, I just got off,” you answer him, and the brief reprieve that you get by looking away from his face brings everything back—the movements from the crowd around you, the sounds coming from the chatters and the shops in the surrounding area—every single thing that is currently happening around you. Everything that has been muted in his presence comes flooding into your senses, reminding you of where you are. 
You weren’t lying when you told him that you were coming back from work. You have no idea what had driven you to stop by at the mall tonight, when you would normally return straight away to the warm comfort of your small and quiet apartment after a long day. But seeing him standing before you, an actual presence of himself instead of a mirage, you wonder if it had been fate that brought you here.
“I figured I could spare some time to do some window shopping before going home,” you continue, though it sounds more as if you are reasoning with yourself instead of answering his unspoken question. 
“You’re alone, then?” 
You nod. “Yeah, I am.” 
“Then, uh—” he stops, suddenly looking a bit unsure with himself for a brief moment as he takes a quick glance around. “Do you have some free time before you go home? What do you say about grabbing coffee with me? I would love to, uh—catch up.” 
You should say no. Refusing his invitation would be the only sane and mature thing to do, but the words refuse to come out of your lips. Walking away would be the right thing, just like how you did the same years ago. But just like then, before the choice to grow mature and wise ever came to you, your heart chooses differently for you. And it would be the one option that you have yet to decide if it would be the wrong one, or something that you would never regret in the future. 
“Yes, I’d love to.”
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“I see that some things haven’t changed,” Namjoon says as he looks the coffee selection that you ordered—iced cappuccino, double shot, no whip cream or sugar. Your eyes fall on his order as he places it on the table before he carefully takes the seat right across from you. 
Double Iced Américano. 
You still order the same thing as well, you wonder to yourself instead of voicing it out loud. “Some things have changed, though,” you find yourself saying instead as you take a slow sip of your cold drink. 
“I guess so,” he softly laughs. “You wear your hair longer now.” 
“And you’ve gotten married.” 
You never meant to sound snappy about it, yet the words simply slipped right out of your lips before you could stop it. But you find no remorse when you look up at him to see his reaction. Instead of getting flustered, the look in his eyes shows no change in its light. There is a tease there in his gaze, the one that had once stolen your heart—and has yet to return it as whole—years back, but there is also the astonished look that you are still quite familiar with. The same one that he would give you for your sharp tongue, which was something that seemed to amuse him a lot then, and may amuse him today still. 
“So you’ve heard the news.” 
You raise your eyebrows. “Heard of it?” you scoff at him. “Obviously, there was no way I would’ve missed it when I had the delightful privilege to receive the invitation through my mail.” 
To your pleasure, he seems surprised to hear this. His eyes grow wide, and there is a sourness that you feel coming from him as he gives you a wry smile. “I never—” Namjoon stops himself and closes his eyes. The sigh that comes out of him sounds exasperated, filled with pure exhaustion that pricks at you right in the chest. “She must’ve sent it to you,” he murmurs softly almost to himself, and you can almost hear the disbelief in his voice before he looks up at your face. 
“How kind of her,” you dryly say to him, and you indulge the pleasure of seeing him react with a grimace. 
You keep your eyes on him as you sip your coffee, to see the apology that is written so plainly in his gaze. Silence lingers, and you wait with bated breath to hear what he is about to say.
“I’m—” 
A tight clench rises in your chest when you start to predict what his next words would be, so you quickly stop him before he could say them out loud. “Don’t,” you whisper to him. “Don’t apologise for her when it’s not your fault. It makes it even worse.” 
Namjoon shakes his head slowly while keeping his gaze low, and you enjoy seeing the sight of remorse that appears all over his face. You shouldn’t be entertained by this, but somehow, it feels—good. 
It feels cathartic to be able to dump all of this on him after years of keeping this to yourself, as there had never been any chance for you to speak to him after you parted ways. And you cannot deny the pleasure you are feeling from seeing the pain that flickers in his eyes. It appears only briefly that you might have missed it had you not been keeping your eyes on him. 
But it still helps make you feel as if all the past hurt that you had to keep inside for many years had all been worth it. Only for seeing him experience the same thing you did then; to be caught off guard and completely at a loss, without knowing how to react or feel when reality was thrust back at your face, forcing you to open your eyes to see it. 
Back then, you simply took it as your punishment. Because, in a way, you did deserve it. 
You both did. 
“I’m not apologising for her. For anyone, on that matter. I’m apologising on my own behalf,” he says with a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. That was”—he swallows thickly—”that seems so wrong, in so many ways. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt.” 
“Then don’t,” you calmly say to him, once again surprising yourself when you manage to keep your voice even, or to keep a smile on your face when you finally get to look at him in the eyes as you are telling him all of this. “Don’t even try to understand how I would feel because you may never understand. Besides, it was a long time ago, wasn’t it? None of these things matter anymore.” 
A wry smile comes to his face, and instead of feeling happy about it, you feel—angry. 
Despite everything that had happened, despite all the hurt, you hate seeing how it seems to be weighing on him. You hate wondering about the kind of guilt that he might be feeling now, if there is truly any. Instead of celebrating it, all you want to do is to reach across the table to console him. 
The thought almost makes you laugh. Yet you wonder if perhaps everything that people around you kept telling you back then had been right, that time did heal you, after all. Because the pain that nearly killed you years ago no longer hurts as much as it did back then, even if you can still feel remnants of it residing inside your fractured heart. 
Years ago, even saying his name alone would have made you feel as if every part of your heart was breaking into pieces until it felt like you had none of it left. Years ago, you even found yourself wishing that you could hurt him the way he made you feel. Yet that feeling no longer exists now when you are looking at him. It doesn’t feel good at all to see the way his eyes dim at the knowledge that he has a hand in causing you pain even long after everything between you had ended. 
But healing isn’t supposed to bring a wave of new emotions rising inside your chest as you look into his eyes—be it to feel sympathy and to wish that you could take away the sorrowful look that you see gleaming in his gaze. It isn’t supposed to bring back all the old feelings that you had long buried deeply, or to have all the memories of the past come flashing through your mind the longer you look into his eyes and be in his presence. 
Your skin prickles uncomfortably as the feeling grows more intense. Walking away from him would be the right thing to do for you. Just like how it did when you had chosen to do it that many years ago when you walked away from his life, leaving him behind with your heart fractured and only a small dignity of yours left intact. 
And yet, something tells you that you might be too late. Even the memory of your past hurt wouldn’t be able to help convince you to walk away, when the strong pull of his presence is impossible for you to deny.  
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Sometimes my mind would wander back to the letter that you sent me then.  To remind me of the words that you had secretly hidden between the letters, between the consoling words that you gave me while you talked about broken dreams, fallen hopes, and unanswered prayers.  ‘I love you.’ For a long time, I wished and prayed so badly to hear those words coming from you. Yet the moment you gave them to me, there was a sense of finality hidden among them that was impossible for me to ignore. Those words you sent to me gave me happiness, sadness, relief, and grief, because it had sounded like an answered prayer to me, while at the same time, it sounded like a goodbye. An end to the sinful journey that we both started.  And then I left, because loving you was becoming too much, too painful, knowing that there was a different future waiting for you at the other end of that journey. I left while knowing that I had earned your love and carried a piece of your heart with me, because I could never bear the thought of having to let go of your love and giving your heart back so you could give them to another. Because even after goodbye, you were still mine, just as much as I would always be yours.
“Why would you choose to walk down that path when you knew that there was no light waiting for you at the end of the tunnel?” 
A good friend of yours gave you those exact words then, after you shared with them everything—about your secret, about your sin, about the forbidden love that you had to hide from the world which you preserved only for him.
Namjoon had been with her for a long period of time before you met him. A story that had been written long before you came into his life. But love never chooses to whom it would fall onto, striking you so deep in the chest ever since the day you first met him and you were unable to ignore it when it began to blossom. For a long time, you tried to fight against it, to deny its presence, and you kept refusing to acknowledge it. But no matter how hard you tried, the feeling kept growing stronger, fighting harder to survive until it took root within you so deep that you finally had to admit defeat. 
You should have kept it to yourself. To keep it as your own dirty little secret until it would fade away with time. And yet, just like always, the truth managed to find its way to come out onto the world, no matter how hard you had tried to conceal it. 
And when it finally happened, he never looked away, nor did he ever deny or push you out of his path. Instead, he chose to embrace you, to hold you against his chest just when you tried to run away and bury your feelings for him. Instead of pushing you away, he kissed every drop of tear that you had shed when you allowed yourself to bare your heart for him to see and let him know that you loved him. 
The moment that you fully accepted that your love for him was forbidden, and that there was no way you could allow that feeling to grow any further, he chose to abandon all logic and came to find you instead. You were ready to say goodbye, and yet he pulled you into his arms and kissed away every broken word that was leaving your lips, opening his heart that was supposed to have been claimed by another just so he could keep you as a part of him, unwilling to let go. 
“If this story had been written with a different ink, a different pen, or even a different hand, then perhaps we could have a different ending.” 
Those were the words that Namjoon gave you then, when he held you through what was supposed to be a cold and lonely night. It was the night that he spent piecing every broken part of your heart which had been shattered when you bare your soul for him. Those words were supposed to help you see that there was already a different ending written to his story, while yours remained unseen. An unwritten plot that the universe had yet to reveal. You should have realised it then, that the two of you would have never been a part of each other’s ending, and that your paths would only end in an intersection where he would have to take a different path to yours.
But Namjoon made it hard for you to see it when he spent all night making love to you, allowing you to see and feel what it was like to be in his arms, to feel his touches and kisses, and to embrace pleasure that no other man but him could have ever given you. Then he continued to make it hard for you to open your eyes and see reality when he kept you blinded by his love, binding you to him with the wanton pleasure that he kept showing you each time he saw fear and uncertainty in your eyes. 
You knew then that it was wrong to continue, yet you found it hard to end your sinful act when it felt so right to be in his arms, to be kissing him so freely until he could feel all the love you kept inside. Never once did you feel any remorse, even as the long nights progressed into weeks, months, and then years, until the moment everything fell apart. 
The memories which keep flashing in your mind to remind you of the past should also remind you of all the hurt, of all the despair that you had gone through back then. Instead, just like then, you choose to keep your eyes closed shut and push them all the way to the back of your mind as you return his kisses, to revel in his touches, as you once again fall into his warmth after he opened his arms to let you back in. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this—” you try to speak between the deep kiss you are sharing, though whatever you are trying to tell him quickly fades and withers when he kisses them away, drawing a series of soft moans instead of words. 
“No, we shouldn’t,” Namjoon simply answers as he pulls away from the kiss, yet he gives you no sign of letting go. From your lips, he trails his kisses down the column of your throat, pressing his hot kiss right against the very spot on the side of your neck that would always make you squirm. How he still remembers how to find it is beyond you. But he does it so naturally, as if the years that you spent apart had been nonexistent. 
“And I thought you said that you had to go home,” you try to speak again, though the moans that keep escaping you and the way you keep arching into him are betraying your words, allowing him to see how much you meant none of it. 
“I did say that,” he hums against your skin. This time, he does pull away, barely, just enough so he can look at your face while his arms are still wrapped around you, denying you a chance to escape. “But going home is the last thing that I have in mind right now.” 
“What—” you almost choke, almost finding it hard to speak when you open your eyes and you get to see the familiar look in his eyes looking back at you. The deep passion, the love, the desire—everything that you have missed for so long now appearing right before you. Things are not supposed to turn out this way, and you are not supposed to let that silly little hope of yours being revived from the deepest part of your soul where it had been buried and left forgotten when you ask him, “What are you thinking now, then?” 
“You,” Namjoon says, sounding determined and completely sure of himself, with not a slither of doubt can be heard from his voice. “All I have in mind right now is you. All I can think of right now is all that I want to do to you, and what I want to make you feel.” 
“And what is that?” 
His eyes seem to be lost in you as he grazes your lips with the tip of his thumb. “Everything. I want you to feel everything, so you’ll remember how good we were together.” 
But I never forgot. 
That small voice of conscience finally reveals itself, only to admit the truth that you have been denying to hear.
Perhaps that had been the reason why you refused to end the night when it was time to part ways with him after that impromptu coffee date. Maybe that was the reason why you invited him into your home, the small apartment that would usually feel so cold and desolated, now burning hot with the desire that you are sharing with him. 
Whatever it was that had crossed your mind when you opened the door to your home for him to enter had not been anything close to this, nor did it involve him lifting you up onto the kitchen counter where he can part your legs for him so he can step closer, pressing hard against your heated center as he captures your lips once again into a deep kiss. 
You barely managed to take off your shoes right after you entered through the door when he pulled you into his arms. With his lips capturing yours, he managed to shut your mind until he succeeded to corner you in your own home, placing you in the same position as you did back then when you first gave in to the desire which he aroused inside you. 
There are words still left unspoken, but everything else becomes nothing more than a blur of motions as you easily melt into his kiss, and it doesn’t take long for you to realise that he was right. 
Every touch he is giving you, every kiss, every soft hum that he releases when you return every single sinful act of his continue to bring you back to the past. You have never forgotten how good it felt when you were with him, and the memories from the past are only making things better, intensifying everything that is happening to your body and what he is doing to you now. 
A groan slips out of him as he moves to slip your blazer off of your shoulders. Once it is gone, your sweater comes next, and he leaves you breathless as he easily pulls it over your head and tosses it away. 
With your upper body now exposed and your chest is heaving with your deep breaths, he comes to a halt. His eyes trail down, resting on your breasts. With only your lacy bra left to cover your skin, his gaze feels like a gentle caress. You can feel its heat, as if he is touching you with his fingers when they remain on your waist, keeping a gentle hold on you there with only his thumbs moving in small circles and keeping away from where your body is warming up under his perusing gaze. 
The moment he finally moves, everything within you sparks alight.
Deft fingertips are moving on your skin with a light touch that is not bringing as much heat as his gaze does, yet the responses your body is giving to his touches are intense. Your body simply burns hot with your desire and you have never before felt this alive. As he kisses your lips, his hands trail their way to your covered breasts, touching the area where you are most sensitive to his touch. He easily brings back a part of you that has been lying dormant. Your senses are being awakened by his touch, and he makes you feel as if you have been asleep for so long and he is waking you up with his kiss, his touches, and the soft sounds that he makes as he slowly devours you. 
“You’re more beautiful than how I remember you,” Namjoon says as he pulls away from the kiss, almost whispering when his words are filled with raw emotion mixed in with his desire. 
“I’m flattered that you still remember me,” you answer him with a shaky voice, drawing a low chuckle out of him.
“How could I ever forget you?” Namjoon looks at you straight in the eyes as he says this. There is an invisible clench in your chest when you can clearly see that he is being sincere. And it scares you so much to see it that you simply choose to deny it.
“Don’t speak as if you’ve spent your life thinking about me when you’ve been living your own life for the past seven years,” you say to him, though it is becoming a struggle to keep your voice even this time around when the fractures in your heart begin to reemerge together with your memories of him, refusing to be ignored. 
Your words cause him to raise his eyebrows. “You won’t believe me if I tell you that I do think about you?” 
Scoffing at him, you try to press down the hope brewing in your chest that he might be telling you the truth. “And supposedly you did think of me, then what would you be thinking about?” 
“Everything. I think about everything that has to do with you,” he immediately answers, once again making you believe that he actually means it. “I would think of your face, your beautiful smile, and the sound of your voice.” His eyes search your face, and he is taking his time with it as if he wants to memorise everything about you, while his hands begin to move again. His fingertips are gentle as they come grazing on your skin, yet it is still enough to make you shudder, to feel warmth rising from wherever he is touching you. 
A ghost of a smile flickers on his face once he notices this. “Other times, I’d think about your skin—how it grows warm when I touch you, especially right where you are sensitive to be touched. Like—” Namjoon gazes down as his hands slide upward, until his fingers reach the hem of your bra and his thumbs graze against your soft mound, drawing a gasp out of you when you feel a sudden heat rushing through your body. A grin appears on his face at the way you are responding to him by arching your chest into his touch, and he softly hums, “Yes, just like this.” 
Your breath is caught in your chest when you feel so much within such a short amount of time and with only the little things that he is doing to you. His deep gaze continues to bring you a myriad of sensations that intensify everything that his touches are bringing to your body, while his words are causing the flame within you to come back alive. 
You say nothing to him in return, taking in everything that he is trying to say. Namjoon doesn’t seem to be completely done with baring his truth yet, and the more you listen to him, the more you find it hard not to bare your own truth for him to see.
“I would think about your eyes. I could never forget the way you look at me, and how honest those eyes always become that I would almost always be able to know what you are thinking,” he continues, and you can hear the tremble in his voice. As if he is overcome with emotions as he is saying those words. 
“And I would think about the gloss that would appear in those eyes when you are feeling something so intense. Just like how they look to me now. But I always love looking into them more when I’m touching you,” he says this with a small smile, his eyes looking deep into yours while he continues to move his hands, gaining more confidence when you make no move to stop him. He reaches up to brush his fingers across your covered breasts, his steady palms pressing into the lacy cup that your bra seems to melt under the heat of his touch. 
Taken over by the delectable rush flowing through your body, your chest arches into his hands and your soft moans start escaping your lips before you can stop it. Then he draws more reaction when he moves his thumbs and presses down at your covered nipples, causing you to gasp and almost miss the words he is saying next, “And I love the way you would look at me when I’m making you scream my name while you—” 
Come. 
The word echoes in your mind as he suddenly moves his fingers to pinch around your nipples, causing your entire body to quiver with the mixture of pain and pleasure that he is drawing from your body. 
Pleased to see your reaction, he draws his hands away, moving them to your back as he leans closer. As his fingers begin tugging at the clasps holding your bra together, his lips return to yours, distracting you with a deep kiss while he works to peel the flimsy thing off of your skin. He has it in his hand when he pulls away from the kiss. With a flick of his wrist, your bra disappears from sight. He wastes no time to continue further. His hands return to your body, touching your bare breasts with his gentle touch which gradually grows firmer, drawing shudders from you as the warm skin of his palms come brushing across your hardened nipples. His hands linger for a moment longer before he continues trailing them down the curves of your body that he can reach. 
You are left speechless, unable to speak or react other than to allow yourself to revel in the pleasure. With your mind muddled in bliss under his wandering touches, it is hard to control the way your body is responding to everything that he is giving you. Each pulse of your blood feels hot in your veins, as it flows down from the parts that he is touching to the center of your desire hidden all the way down south. A raw, unfiltered want that feels so intense and is completely beyond your control takes over. Holding on to the edge of the counter with a tight grip, you begin rocking your hips, pressing down against the cold surface of your kitchen counter to satiate the pulsing need coming from your core. 
His own hunger is palpable through his eyes as he is watching you move. The sight of you trying your best to quench your need seems to entrance him. It draws a deep groan from his chest right before he moves, stopping you from going further without him being a part of it. 
Gripping you at the waist, Namjoon brings you forward until you are at the edge of the counter. Your legs slide open and part wider for him. He tugs you against him, pressing your softness against his hardness as he captures your lips again. Your body shudders when you can feel him, as the testament of his desire comes brushing against your covered center. 
Your hips jerk when he presses into you harder. Even with both pairs of pants getting in the way, it is still not enough to hide the intense pulses rising from both of your bodies. Taken over by your own pure and raw instinct, your hands rise, gripping at his hair as your mouth moves against his, returning his hungry kiss with your own. His arms grow tight around you, holding you firmly to him as he sucks your bottom lip until he draws another gasp from you. An intense shudder runs through your body with the pain that he inflicts on you, though the way your breasts are rubbing against his hard chest is quick to wash it away, replacing it with a blissful rush that almost pushes you over the edge.
Tightening your hold on his hair, you begin to move again, rocking your hips against him at a steady pace, gliding and rubbing the source of your heat against the hard line of his cock that you can feel straining from under his pants. You hear him moaning at the friction, though the sound that he is making gets drowned into the kiss as he continues pressing his lips on yours. 
Namjoon catches your lower lip again and sucks harder, drawing a whimper through your lips just as you are rewarded with pure, unsheltered pleasure. A pleasure that rocks you through your soul, one that ignites the desire inside you until you cry out, drawn by its intense wave rushing through your body. Breaking away from the kiss, he takes you in his arms, holding you against his chest until the shudders of your release slowly winds down. Warm breath lands on your bare shoulder as he softly sighs, finding content in the way your bodies fold together in a tight embrace. 
“I missed this,” he hums, though his voice almost sounds like a moan. As if watching you unravel is already enough to put him on the edge. He tightens his arms around you, keeping you engulfed in his warmth as if he is afraid that you might slip away. “I missed us. I missed everything.” 
“I missed us too,” you murmur against his neck with a content sigh. Breathing in his scent, your body slowly recovers. With a deep inhale of breath, you pull away from him. Disappointment sparks through his eyes when you gently push him off of you. Once you are apart, his whole body stiffens. There is no doubt in your mind that he is expecting to see guilt in your eyes when you look up at him, and perhaps for you to kick him out of your home once the blissful fog fades and reality sinks in. 
Because the two of you have crossed the line, and there is only one option for either of you to choose to fix this.
Deep down, you know that choosing the most logical option would be the wise thing to do. To end this now and never look back again. But with the soft hum of your pleasure still surging through your veins, and your heart is beating in a way that is making it seem as if it hadn’t been truly living and beating the entire time you spent your life without him, you know that it will be too late to turn back now. There is no way you can continue living without his touch now that he has managed to rouse your soul back alive. Now that he has succeeded in reminding you of how good he can make you feel.
“What I missed the most is to touch you,” you murmur with a sigh, and his eyes grow wide. No doubt he is completely caught off guard to hear you say this instead of telling him to walk out the door and kicking him out of your life. A visible sigh of relief comes out through his lips, though his shoulders still seem tense.
“Is that really what you want?” he questions you. And for the first time ever, you notice that he has grown nervous as he anticipates your answer. Seeing this helps eliminate every single doubt that you may have felt since the moment he came through the door and he chose to let go of every last bit of his restraint to kiss you. Because you can finally tell that he sincerely wants this too. Hopefully just as much as you want this to happen.
Without looking away, you answer him with, “More than ever,” before reaching down to start pushing your pants down your legs. You shift on the counter and raise your hips to lower your pants, almost stumbling when you can barely hold up your weight until he lends a hand. He is quick to make a move to gently grab your waist to keep you from falling while you kick away your pants and your flimsy—and now completely soiled—panties, until they are out of the way. 
Seeing that you are now completely bare for him, he makes his move to strip down. You reach for his shirt just as he begins pulling at it. It takes merely a few seconds until it is gone, followed by his shoes, socks, and then his pants quickly joining the pile of mess laid on the floor, and there is not a single thread left as he stands before you. 
For a moment, neither of you makes a move.
It feels like the space around you falls into a blissful silence as you find yourselves completely stripped bare, with nothing left to get in between as you are facing each other in the silence of your kitchen. Aside from the light coming from the microwave behind you, neither of you had the chance to turn on the overhead lamps that would normally light up the room. The existing light casts a soft, nearly muted golden glow across the room. Under the dim lighting, he glows. Just like how he would often appear to you whenever his presence would come to visit you in your dreams at night. 
Just like how he took you in, you take this chance to look at him properly. From his bare chest, you find the faint scars that you have always remembered seeing on his skin, the hidden marks that you used to trace with your fingers, and the dent on his waist that you used to hold when he was making love to you. 
Through his strong shoulders that feel hard under your palms and his toned torso that flexes under your gaze, you find the most change that he has gained so far, with strong muscles that have grown during the years that had gone by. There are visible signs of ageing that are also beginning to show on his skin, his lower torso, and even on the strands hidden in his thick hair, but none of them could take away any part of his beauty that you can openly admire. 
In your eyes, he is still the perfect man that you have ever known. He is perfect in every single aspect that you can find in him. Not just physically, but everything else that lies within, most specifically the part of him which had drawn you into him the first time you met. 
Yet what you are currently drawn into has everything to do with the physical aspect of his, as your eyes fall on his hard cock that has been drawing your attention by looking hard and ready. 
Just for you.
Your heartbeat picks up once you get a clear view of how much he wants you. Under your gaze, his cock seems to come alive as you see it throbbing, twitching slightly as his want grows just as much as yours. 
“You said something about touching me,” Namjoon teasingly whispers, breaking the silence that has grown thick with tension as your hunger for him grows. His lips tip up at one corner, forming a small grin as you look up to him. A flush of warmth spreads through your cheeks, yet he helps calm your unsteady heart when he gently adds, “Show me that you meant it.”
His words encourage you to move, to show him that you meant every word you said to him through your actions alone. Your hands are trembling as you reach up, choosing to start from the face that has been haunting your sleep on those cold, lonely nights, and you gently touch his cheeks with the tips of your fingers. His gaze remains on your face as you move your hands down, grazing his jawline, his chin, down the length of his neck, feeling every sharp edges and smooth dents, grazing briefly at the soft stubble that is barely visible on his skin. 
His breath is caught as you brush against his chest. His taut muscles grow tense under your touch as you keep going lower. A shiver runs through his body when you reach his lower torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles and the marks on his skin that you used to find yourself getting drawn into. The shiver intensifies as you reach down to brush across the thin line of coarse hair beneath his navel, and then everything in him halts when you continue gliding your fingers lower, as if he has lost his breath and every last will that he has to move now that you are getting closer to his erection, the clear evidence of his desire that has been calling for your attention ever since it was revealed to you. 
“Don’t stop,” he says with a raspy voice when your touch lingers just an inch away from his hard shaft. His hands have found a gentle hold on your waist, where they remain as he keeps himself from guiding you so you can be the one to set up the pace. But as he speaks, he slowly moves his hands upward, finding their way back to your bare breasts. He moves his thumbs in lazy circles, starting from the underside of your breasts and continuing up to the peak. He nearly distracts you from your intention in his effort to ease your mind into it, until his gentle voice is heard once again, nearly pleading as he whispers breathlessly to you, “Please, don’t stop.”
You wait with bated breath until his thumbs reach your nipples. The lazy circles he makes continue, moving even slower now as he anticipates your touch. Tiny waves of pleasure rise with the gentle way he is touching your hardened nipples, as he grazes the pads of his thumbs across each one, bringing up shuddering delights through your body that sends warmth inside your core. 
That is when you finally move, starting with a gentle, almost tentative brush of the tips of your fingers across the length of his cock. His body jerks at your touch, yet he doesn’t stop moving his own fingers on your skin, keeping the light shudders alive. So you do exactly the same as you slowly reach down to move your fingers around the base of his cock, touching him and circling around its girth.
Namjoon draws a sharp inhale of breath as he shudders under your touch. His mouth parts when you drag your palm along the length of his hard shaft, following the veins that are pumping hot blood to the tip of his cock. While you are giving him pleasure through your soft caress, your eyes flutter to close as your past memory washes over you, bringing back all the old sensations that you once savoured from touching him like this.
“It’s been”—you sigh—“so long.” 
Too long. 
With gentle fingers, you carefully wrap your hand fully around the base of his cock, using a light grip that draws a deep moan out of his lips once your palm comes in contact with his hot skin. His head falls back when you start moving your palm, gliding back and forth from the base to the tip and then coming back up again, sometimes adding a light pressure between each stroke. The shudder that runs through his body comes out with his deep exhale of breath, one that shows you how much your touch is affecting him. 
It has been too long since the last time you touched him like this, yet it seems that your body still remembers everything. As if every inch of your hand and fingers still remember all the right touches that he likes, how to be able to draw all the right reactions that are now beginning to affect you as well. 
“Fuck, you’re right. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this good,” he groans breathlessly between his deep moans, drawing a soft, bitter laugh out of you.
“You’re not the one who has been spending the nights alone without anyone touching you the right way,” your words come with a sharpness that doesn’t seem like something that may come from you at all. But at the same time, it sounds familiar, and you know that it has come from a cavity that exists deep inside your heart. 
Because it sounds hurtful. And you can almost hear the sound of the fractured pieces of your soul emerging through each word you give him.
Those pretty eyes of his find you as they snap open in his shock, though he only looks at you with half-lidded eyes when you keep up the light strokes you are giving him through the length of his cock. “You have no idea,” Namjoon barely grits out, and he is gasping at the end of his words when you tighten your grip just a tad as you drag your palm to the tip, enough to draw a rough shudder through his body. He lifts one hand away from your breast, clasping the nape of your neck as he leans closer. 
“What don’t I know?” you find yourself speaking, breathless with each word coming out of your lips as he draws his face closer to you. Instead of answering your question, he captures your lips, silencing your mind—and perhaps his own—as he kisses you deeply, devouring you like a man in need of air. 
Namjoon suddenly breaks away from the kiss and bends lower. His mouth quickly finds the neglected nipple and gives it a light suck, while his fingers continue pinching and rubbing on the other. Seemingly lost in the rising pleasure, his hips begin to move, rocking and pumping into your palm. Sucking a deep breath, you relish the pleasure that he is giving you, not even minding it when he begins to pull the hair at the nape of your neck to tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him. 
Despite losing in himself, in his own need and pleasure, Namjoon manages to move his hand from your breast and reach down between your bodies. Between your parted legs, he finds your dripping pussy, and he immediately groans as he feels your heat and dampness on the tip of his fingers. The latter seems to increase under the touch of his fingers as you rock into his hand. 
“Fuck—you’re so wet,” he moans once he unlatches his lips from your nipple. His breath sounds rough, deep and heavy with lust, and you can see it clearly coming out through his gaze when he stretches himself to his full height. Keeping one hand still on the nape of your neck, he draws his hand back from your hot pussy and gently grips your wrist to peel your hand away from his throbbing cock. “I think”—he groans—“things will end too soon if we continue this way.” 
The corner of his lips curls to a grin when he hears the sound of your soft whine when he pulls your hand off of him. You watch with hazy eyes as he entwines his fingers with yours. The dampness that he gathered from you is still coating his fingers as he presses them against your hand, while your palm is still warm after touching him. He lifts your entwined hands to his lips, and he presses a soft kiss on your wrist. The act distracts you, taking your mind away from him as he steps closer, stepping between your parted legs while gently tugging your body towards him.
You draw a sharp inhale of breath once your bodies come in contact, pressing against each other, bare skin against bare skin. The sound you make seems to do something to him when he closes his eyes and shudders against you. Once he opens his eyes again, he lifts you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He does it so gently, as if he is being extra cautious so there is no possible way you would break into pieces in his arms. As if you are a little fragile thing that might shatter if he is not careful. A feeling that you share as you hold on to him tightly, except that in your mind, he would simply disappear if you would only blink or lose contact with his skin. 
But the latter seems almost impossible to happen, when he doesn’t give you any sign of letting go. Not until he finally reaches your bed. Namjoon carefully lays you down and then comes down with you, crawling over you with an intense look appearing through his gaze which makes your heart race rapidly. 
Propping himself on his two strong hands which sink into the bed, Namjoon lowers himself to you. He captures your lips, giving you a kiss that is soft and gentle, yet deeply filled with his dark passion at the same time. He draws a moan from you as he slips his tongue in, brushing against yours for a brief contact before pulling away with a shuddering breath. With a sigh, he rests his forehead on yours. 
“Tell me you want this,” he whispers, triggering the sane and logical part of your brain to start fighting against your conscience once more, the one that is supposed to help you think more clearly yet has already fallen victim to the desire residing deep inside your heart.
You close your eyes, savouring the warmth that you feel from him while trying to listen to the voices in your head to help you decide what you truly want. As you open your eyes again, meeting his eyes with more resolve, you know that he can already find the answer before you can even make sense of your own thoughts. 
You should end this before it would be too late. You know that you should. But once again, you choose to listen to your heart. You push every thought about letting him go to the back of your mind when you reach up to him and wrap your arms around him to pull him down, to kiss his lips without any single restraint. 
“I want this, more than ever,” you murmur against his lips and slowly rock your hips against his, rubbing your hot slit against the length of his cock. “I want you. Now.” 
A sharp inhale of breath comes from him, as if your words snap something inside him. Enough to give him reasons to let go every inhibitions that he has left and help him find his own resolve. You can feel it when he presses his lips on yours, giving you a deep kiss that puts you into a haze. He reaches down, gripping your thigh to part your legs for him so he can position himself at your center. Your heartbeat picks up to a rapid speed when you feel the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance, and your body tenses as you anticipate what is coming next. 
But when he moves, he is kind and gentle, just the way you remember him doing the same back when you were still together. It helps eliminate everything else so that all you can feel is his presence that spreads all around you, filling up all the hidden crevices and the void inside your soul. There is no remorse daunting you when he slowly slides into you, once again uniting both your broken souls and bodies together after spending many years of being apart. 
Tears fall from your eyes as you arch in your pleasure and he dips in, kissing those tears away the same way he did back then, all while he continues rocking, moving steadily in and out of you as he makes sweet love to you. He makes you feel and relive all the sweet and sinful love that quickly becomes so intoxicating that you instantly know that it would never be enough. Not now once your body is reminded how addicted to his love you were in the past, and how deprived of his pleasure you have been through the years you were apart.
So you relish the love and pleasure that he is giving you while you are able to. With your arms wrapped around him, you pull him down. All the way down until your mouths meet each other in a deep, passionate kiss, drowning your moans as he pumps into you in a slow and steady rocking. 
“More,” you beg him with your lips grazing over his. “Make love to me, Namjoon. Please. Do it harder, make me feel you deep inside me.” 
Namjoon draws a sharp inhale of breath after hearing your words, and he starts rocking faster, pushing deeper, until he is buried so deep that he almost reaches the hilt of your warmth. All at once, every part of your body and his come apart to a shuddering pleasure, and the sounds that you both are making as you embrace it together fills the entire room. 
“Oh, fuck”—he moans deeply—“you feel…” 
His words fade into another moan as he pushes into you even deeper until he can go no further, and you cannot blame him for not being able to finish his words. Because there is nothing that can explain this feeling—the feeling of fullness, the perfect fit you feel with him buried deeply inside you, and the waves of pleasure that come to engulf you the moment you are joined as one. 
Instead of continuing to move, he comes to a halt and simply remains still. As if he wants to relish the warmth that comes surging through his body and the way your walls flutter around him, while you revel in the way your pulses seem to fall in the same rhythm as his, as if you have become one. 
Namjoon has his eyes closed when he sighs. And when he opens his eyes again, your heart makes a gratifying flip in your chest from seeing the truth that resides in his gaze. The corners of his lips lift to a smile, making him look both irresistible and arousing when the glow in his eyes are filled with lust and a glimmer of pure love.
“All the memory I’ve ever had about being with you like this can never compare to this moment,” he says with a voice so gentle that you almost miss it under the loud sounds of your racing heartbeat. The moment his words sink into your muddled brain, what he is trying to tell you draws a gasp from you. 
“You still remember,” you whisper, and as much as you hate it, the feeling of hope—that little stubborn thing—blooms. “Do you—” you try to question him, even when you are worried to hear his answer. “Do you think about this? About us?” 
His smile softens, while there is a cloud forming in his gaze when he looks at you. “Like I said,” he whispers with a deep sigh. “You have no idea. No idea at all.”
Before you get any chance to question what he means, Namjoon begins to move. As if he is taken over by the memory of the past and the deep lust that he has for you, he starts thrusting in and out of you, going slow at first, but deep enough to rock your entire body beneath him with each thrust. The sound of your moans grow gradually louder with each pump of his cock into your depth, as he allows his emotions to flow out of him, causing his strokes to grow more intense as he continues.
The pleasure that you are feeling is incomparable to anything else that you have ever felt before, from anything that you have shared with anyone other than him. It feels too good to be true, so good that you insist to keep your eyes open so you can see him. To make sure that this is real, and not just another one of your lucid dreams that have been taking you back to him. 
The feeling of his girth brushing against your walls is real, so is the spasms of pleasure that you feel rising from the depth of your core. Your hips rise to meet each of his thrust, while your chest arches as you are embracing the pleasure that comes with it. His grips on your hip and thigh grow tighter as he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck before he bites at your skin, causing you to cry out his name when the pain increases the pleasure. 
“Namjoon—!”
“Cum for me. Show me that I was right, that we are perfect together,” he whispers to you. His voice fades in and out through your fogged brain, yet you can still hear his words, and you can feel your body responding immediately to his subtle command.
As if you are spellbound under his words, the waves of your climax wash over you and you embrace it with a sharp cry. It comes to you hard, harder than you have ever experienced it before. Not even when you were together in the past. Your body trembles violently beneath him while your intense orgasm pushes him over the edge, and soon you feel him shuddering above you. His cock slides back into you with one final thrust, pushing against your pulsing walls as he releases every drop of his essence inside you, filling you up with his warmth. He comes with his head tilts back, his eyes fluttering close, and a rough, breathless shout slipping out of his lips as he falls into his release.
For a moment, your entire world comes to a stock-still. Your mind remains caught in the blissful haze of your climax, while that same haze flows through your body like a soft hum. Opening your eyes takes quite an effort, and you only manage once his whispering voice pierces through your haze, softly calling you back to him as he slowly recovers from his own high. 
When you finally manage to return to the present, half expecting to open your eyes only to realise that all of this has been nothing but a dream and you would wake to find yourself alone in your cold bed, you are immediately met with his beautiful eyes and his dimpled smile. Within moments, your haze fades into null and every part of your sense clears out, allowing you to take in this moment, to see him as he hovers above you with a deep passionate gaze looking down on you. 
Both of you are breathing heavily, still needing time to recover completely. The sound fills the entire room that has somehow grown excruciatingly silent. The air around you feels thick, and you can hear nothing else other than your racing heartbeat which seems to fall in the same speed as his. Still attached to each other, he lowers himself, bringing his hot body that is veiled with a thin sheet of sweat, pressing down his heat onto yours as he gently embraces you, and you welcome him with your arms wrapped around his body.
It takes a few more minutes before your bodies finally settle into a state of calmness, and then a few more until you are both cleaned of all the mess that had been created, until you feel less icky about yourself just enough to let him take you back in his arms. 
“I thought you said you had to go home,” you whisper into the silence that surrounds you as he holds you from behind. His bare chest is pressing against your back, bare skin against bare skin, with your hearts beating together in a steady rhythm.  
“I am home,” he says, his voice sounds so soft, yet you can feel it piercing through your chest. Just when you open your mouth, ready to question his change of heart, he gently turns you over so you are now lying on your sides, facing each other. His lips are lifted to a slow smile, only moments before he leans closer to kiss your lips and steal your words away. “I’m right where I want to be. This is where I belong.” 
Tears are threatening to fall down your cheeks as a wave of emotions come surging through your chest. But you close your eyes and lean into his embrace, basking in the warmth that he is offering you to continue reminding yourself that this is not a dream. 
Still, reality is quick to sink in once silence falls. No matter how hard you want to deny it, the safety of this comfortable bubble that you have created with him can only be temporary. Outside, the world will continue to revolve and the reality of your circumstances that is slowly forcing its way in is starting to press down on you. Sooner or later, you will have to return to face the real world and wake up from this dream. 
“People will start looking for you,” you whisper to him despite not wanting to. 
Because that was how it happened. How your secrets unraveled and your sins came to light. When his disappearances were questioned, and people kept finding the shadow of your presence everywhere around him when he returned—the sweet and spicy perfume that was not his yet somehow lingered on his clothes, the trinkets that would somehow find their way into his things, the songs that he never listened to before but he enjoyed because you would play them to welcome your bright mornings. Once your sins were uncovered, you were left with no other choice but to end everything, sending him back to his original path while you continued to find yours. 
“Let them,” he says, though you can already sense that he is wavering. Doubt creeps into your thoughts when you catch the dark look in his eyes. A dark look of uncertainty that seems so daunting. It pinches at a deep part of your heart when you can already feel him pulling away, not because he is intentionally doing it, but because the world is trying to pull him back into the path that he briefly stepped out of in order to spend this short moment with you. 
You close your eyes, silently preparing yourself and your delicate heart to face reality. It would be one of the hardest things that you would have to do in life, especially after experiencing the bliss of being brought back to life and to indulge in his love which is completely forbidden for you to take. But it would be the right thing for you to do. 
You need to let him go.
It takes almost an hour later before you finally find the will to peel yourself off of him and convince him to return home. Back to the life that he has built without you. The life that he has with another who is more deserving of his love. 
He almost seems to be dragging his feet as he makes his way to the door of your apartment, while it almost seems to you that your mind and body are separated as you join him. No matter what you keep telling yourself, this night no longer feels real to you, even if you can still feel the ghost of his touches on your skin that is still completely bare under the robe that you are wearing. You can also breathe in the scent of his cologne that is clinging on your body. You lift your head to watch him, and your heartbeat dips when you realise that you are sending him home with traces of your sinful tryst tonight all over him. 
The shirt that he wore tonight seems a bit crumpled on the sides, right where you gave it a good grip when you were helping him strip out of it. There are some buttons that are still unlatched on the front, while the bottom hem of his shirt is left untucked from his pants on the back. The subtle note of your perfume seems to waft as he walks, clinging somewhere either on his shirt or on his body together with the musky scent that belongs to him. Your gaze follows his hand as he moves to carry his jacket over his broad shoulder, the collars hooked on his long fingers—the same fingers that he used to touch the most delicate part of your body—with an ease that fits together with the pure confidence that he often wears on his skin. You continue looking up his full height, and notice the unruly hair on the top of his head which he has opted not to touch and fix on his way out for his own selfish reasons.
“Because there are trails and evidence of your touch here and I don’t want to erase it. Not this soon.” 
You take an inhale of breath and swallow hard at the words that he gave you when you questioned it. There is a lot to unpack from his words, and you only have a little time left with him to waste on trying to understand what he meant by it. 
Too soon, you are standing at the door—with you remaining inside the threshold, hiding one shaking hand in the side pocket of your robe and the other by holding tightly on the door knob, and he is standing on the other side of the doorframe, already a step further away to get out of your life and returning to his own. You hold your gaze on him for a moment too long, giving in to your desire and selfish wish to commit this moment deep in your memory, to be able to remember his entire being so you can cherish the memory of this night during your lonely nights alone.
“I guess this is it?” he asks you when you fall silent, unable to find your own voice to speak. 
You open your mouth to respond, ready to say goodbye. But the words hang on the tip of your tongue when a lump grows in your throat as you try to say those words out loud. You have expected that it would be painful to say it, to see him leave after bidding goodbyes. Yet you still cannot bare the pain. 
Because you clearly still remember how it was like back then to feel it.
Namjoon must have caught on to this when you clam up and try to avoid his gaze, because the look in his eyes softens and he carefully takes a step closer to return to you.
As you try to look away, he cups your face with his big palms so you would look up to him. “I’ll come back for you. I promise,” he says. His voice sounds so deep that you can feel all the emotions that he is putting into his words. 
His promise feels so heavy on you, yet so pleasant, that you drop your chin and look down to hide your bitter smile. “I remember when you made that same promise once,” you whisper softly to him, though still loud enough for him to hear.  
You look up again just to see him looking back at you with his kind eyes and his gentle smile, everything about him that shows how pure his soul truly is. Tonight, that smile of his appears to you sweeter than ever, especially when he reminds you of the past once more when he says, “Then you should remember that I kept it.” 
You do remember. Because that had been the start of everything. When he showed up at your place to keep the promise that he had given to you and he made you a sinner. 
Goodbye is too painful of a word for you to speak, so you choose to say something else. Something that is less painful, and holds a bit more hope than it should.
“Goodnight,” you whisper with a broken smile. “And thank you.” 
You choose to not finish the sentence, keeping the words that you want so badly to say to him for yourself as you close the door, drawing the line between the two of you as you send him back to where he truly belongs. 
Thank you for coming back into my life. Even if you cannot stay.  
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Every time I had to let you go and watch as you return to your life, my heart would always feel heavy.  I would listen to my guts as they told me that it was going to be the last time that I was able to see you, and I would prepare myself for the hurt that might follow. But every time you left, you kept promising that you would return. And every single time, you kept that promise. Always coming back to me when I was prepared to live a life without you in it. Sometimes I wonder…what would our lives be if you had never kept those promises you gave me.  Sometimes a part of me even wished that you hadn’t kept them.  Because things would have been so much easier if you had just forgotten about those secret pledges you had given me. Things might have been much easier for me if you had lied and purposely hurt me from the start. Maybe I would have been able to leave sooner. Maybe then…I wouldn’t have been falling in love with you more and more, or let myself be swooned by all the expectation and hope that you helped plant inside this silly little heart of mine.
Namjoon kept his words. 
Within a few days, he returns. The evening had just fallen when he comes knocking at your door, surprising you with a jolt rising inside your chest when you see him standing there, with an easy smile on his face as if he has no care in the world. As if he is not supposed to be somewhere else other than here. 
“You…came,” you whisper in your shock, drawing his smile to grow wider. 
“Didn’t I promise you that I would?” Namjoon asks you with a tease in his words. But the moment he takes in the look you are giving him, seeing no smile or joy but finding a hint of your apprehensiveness in their place instead, his smile slowly fades. It shouldn’t surprise you that he is still capable of reading your emotions. A look of genuine concern and sadness fills his gaze when he, no doubt, can see the look of relief and astonishment in your eyes for seeing him. As if you had expected that he would never come back.
“You still don’t believe me,” he murmurs gently with a mixture of surprise and sorrow flashing across his gorgeous face. 
“I just—” you try to answer with a soft voice. A resigning sigh escapes you when you explain your feelings to him with the only way you could, “It’s hard.” 
Not too surprisingly, he only responds to you with a nod. “I understand,” he says, as if he truly knows exactly how you feel. That he truly understands how hard it would be for you to allow yourself to hope. To allow yourself be vulnerable when there is a risk of you getting hurt again like before.  
The grip that you have on the door handle tightens. It would make sense if you close the door right now instead of welcoming him back in. This thought had crossed your mind for the past few nights, as you tried to picture every possible scenario you could think of about how you would react should he ever keep his words and return to see you, or if he never shows up again at all. You had thought of all the choices that you would have to make—whether you are to let him back in or to say goodbye, to forget about your chance encounter and continue living as if the magical night when you were reunited never happened. And each time, you promised yourself that you would do the right thing this time around. To not repeat the same mistake you did then when you were younger and you chose to give in to what your heart desired. 
But here he is now, standing right in front of your door to return to you—as promised. It only takes you looking deep into his eyes, to see the familiar gentleness in his gaze that is enough to have your resolve waning. 
Pressing your tongue on the inside of your cheek, you mull over your choices. Everything within you keeps telling you not to cross the line. Not again. And you have the chance to make things right this time.
“Have you had dinner yet?” you find yourself asking. That is not what you were about to ask him. But you regret nothing when a smile grows on his face. And you are definitely not thinking about the other life that he is stepping out of as you step aside, allowing him to step back into yours. 
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Even when you are apart, your lives would always intertwine. 
And the moment you are together, the connection that you have between you doesn’t spark. It detonates like fireworks blasting in the dark night sky above.
Dinner was a swift affair. You were in the middle of cooking your meal when Namjoon came knocking at your door. As if you already had an inkling that someone else would be joining you for dinner, you had been cooking for two, enough for you to share the meal with him as you sat down together at the kitchen counter. 
Casual moments like what you just had tonight—one that is as simple as having homemade dinner at home with light conversations and a glass of wine on the side—had become a huge part of your memories that you cherished, because they never lasted as long as you wanted them to. Things had always been so quick to escalate when you were spending time with him, and anything that started simple and innocent would always end up becoming a fiery affair. 
And that is exactly what is happening between you tonight. 
In the past, you simply believed that it all happened only because you both realised, deep down, that your affair had an expiration date, and you simply wanted to make the most of it by sharing your passion and love in the nights that you shared together. You even made yourself believe that it was nothing more but a part of your dynamics that had once helped make things work between the both of you. That it was the reason why your relationship lasted the way it did even when you had to constantly remain in the shadows, hidden from the world. 
Tonight, as you once again fall into the same pattern as before, as you find yourself giving in to that dark temptation after spending merely a short amount of time alone with Namjoon, you realise that there had been more to it. 
There is tension that has always been there when you are together. Always so intense, always so palpable that it would be impossible for it to be ignored. Once it is there, it wouldn’t take long before the two of you are immersed in each other’s arms, as you give in to your carnal desire and allow yourself to drown in your sin. And there is also the strong connection that you feel with him which intensifies everything you feel when you are with him. A connection that has never been diminished by the passing time. All it would take is for one of you to snap, and every bit of that comforting casualness fades and the wave of wanton desire would immediately take root. Just like what just happened merely minutes ago. 
Once the relaxing moment you shared at dinner, which allowed you to pretend that you were just like any other—normal—couple, you now find yourself entangled in another passionate, extremely heated exchange. All because Namjoon made the casual remarks about what happened the last time he was here—bringing up all the things you did with him right atop the kitchen counter—and shared his wish about wanting to lie you down on the cold surface this time as he savours his dessert. 
The comment he made snapped you out of your resolve, sending you jumping out of your chair to join him in his. Your legs are spread on either side of him as you rest on his lap. You can feel the semi-hard cock that still manages to poke against you from under his pants when you press your body against him. His strong and broad chest feels like a wall of muscles under your fingertips as you press into them through the thin shirt that he is wearing. 
“I really think I’m liking this position right here,” Namjoon says with a groan. There is something that lingers in his gaze as he looks up at you. It makes you feel completely exposed, as if he can see through the fabric of your clothes—the tank-top and shorts that you had put on for a leisure evening before he came—and see nothing but bare skin. At the same time, you also feel treasured, when his perusing gaze feels like gentle fingers tracing every inch of your skin instead of making you feel as if he is simply stripping you down with his eyes. 
It makes you feel a myriad of emotions through your chest—some that makes you feel hot with new desire and the need to touch him further, and some that may bring tears in your eyes from how deeply he makes you feel.  
There is too much to unpack with just a single glance, so you decide to delve into the one emotion that you know so well. The need that seems to only grow more intense as he runs his gaze down your body and his strong palms come down to cup your covered ass. You start grinding your hips down on him, feeling his erection that you can feel growing under the restraint of his pants. The absolute ache in your core intensifies, and you rock harder above him, enough for him to feel your softness. His head falls back as he groans, while his palms are pressing on you and his fingers are digging into your soft bottom cheeks as he guides your rocking. 
“This is”—you moan into his neck when the pleasure you are feeling is accompanied by a sharp pain as your knees come in contact with the wooden backrest on his chair—”awfully uncomfortable.” 
The soft chuckle that he releases sounds strained, as if he is already on the edge and he is trying to hold it back. “Should we take this to your comfortable bed?” 
Despite agreeing to his valid suggestion, you despise the thought of having to stop and peel yourself away from him. Not when all the rocking and grinding are starting to ease the ache that you feel in your core, replacing it with a steady pulse of pleasure. “Moving only means that I have to stop touching you,” you say with a whine. You barely recognise your own voice as a moan slips out of you the moment you feel his covered bulge rubbing your clit. 
“Not necessarily,” he once again chuckles, and then he presses his lips on yours as he jerks you closer to his chest. He briefly captures your gasp with his kiss and pulls back once you no longer feel tense to whisper, “Wrap your legs and arms around me.” 
Namjoon’s voice sounds gentle, yet it also sounds commanding, that you immediately move to follow his orders. You wrap your arms around his neck as he scoots forward on his seat and your ankles join at his back to cling onto him. The look of appreciation that he gives you as a reward is more than enough to make you feel good about yourself. 
“Good girl. Hold on to me tightly and try not to let go until I tell you so,” he praises you with pride lingering in his words, and that feeling escalates into something more. Something new and unbelievably pleasant that you feel some warmth growing in separate places—from your chest and down to the place that is now wet and soiled after rubbing on him so wantonly like an animal in heat. 
His grip on your hips and bottom cheeks tightens, and he takes you with him as he rises from his seat. He does it with so much ease that it makes you feel like you are floating in the air. You don’t even feel any fear of falling, knowing that you can fully trust him to keep you from falling on your butt. 
As Namjoon gently carries you to your bed, you start to notice more tidbits about him that you missed from the last time you spent the night together. You had noticed then how his body has changed. His body that used to appear almost lanky in his full height has now been filled with more muscles, making his shoulders and chest seem wider, broader, stronger, and his arms that appear more toned as they flex under your weight while he is carrying you away to your bed. 
As he gently drops you on top of your messy sheets—you did lie down on them earlier right after coming back from work—you run your fingers down his shoulders to his biceps, taking hold for a brief moment before letting him go as you fall on your back. He steps back, taking you in with his perusing gaze the same way he had done it before. 
The sound of his deep sigh pierces through the tense air. It fills both the quiet room and the cavity in your chest. It keeps you under an invincible restraint as he continues to hold his gaze on you while he begins stripping out of his clothes. The sight of him peeling his shirt and pants down feels cathartic. Like a piece of your dream is manifesting right before your eyes. What had filled your lonely nights had been nothing but a mirage, while he is truly here at this moment, with his true presence that you can feel even without touching him. 
It isn’t until he is kicking down his boxer, relieving his semi-erection from its last restraint when you finally feel the urge to move. Your hands itch, feeling the need to touch him, to stroke him until his cock grows to its fullest size and then take him in your mouth. A grin rises on the corner of his lips when you lick your lips, unable to contain yourself, and he seems to get a gist of where your mind is wandering off to. But just when you expect to hear him bring it up and tease you, the only thing that comes out of his sexy mouth is, “You are so goddamn beautiful.” 
Your eyes grow wide. That is certainly not what you expected to hear. Yet his words are still enough to bring the flush on your cheeks right back, and that warmth you felt earlier comes back in multitude of places within you.
Including the void deep within your pussy. 
“Let me see you, baby. Strip down for me.” 
Your eyebrows are lifted. Once again, you are caught off guard when he does what is least expected as he remains standing there, gloriously naked with his cock almost fully erected and the delectable ridges of his toned torso is all open for you to gawk at. 
Pushing yourself up, you slowly come up to your knees. Locking your gaze on his, you continue to move, reaching down to the hem of your tank-top and pulling it up, revealing to him the lack of underthings covering your skin when your breasts are freed. You can only hear the sound of his sharp inhale of breath when you are pulling the tank-top over your head, obscuring your view. But once the fabric is gone, you are met with the sight of his dark gaze. His hunger licks on your skin. His cock twitches, slowly growing hard just by seeing you half naked. 
Without a word, you hook your fingers around the waistband of your shorts and start sliding it down your thighs. It falls on your knees, and you fall back so you can kick it all the way down to your ankles. 
That is when he finally moves again. He reaches out to pull those shorts off of you and flings it away. His hands quickly return to you, brushing your skin gently starting from your ankles, tracing up to your calves with an excruciatingly slow pace which makes you feel tingles rising all over your body and not just the places that he is touching. By the time he reaches your thighs, your legs are quivering, almost as intensely as the thrums of your heartbeat. 
He continues going up, sliding his fingers around the apex of your thighs and reaching to the center. He grazes his fingertips over your panties and sucks a deep breath. His voice comes out to a near growl when he murmurs, “You’re so wet already. I can feel it from here.” 
He draws a moan from your lips when he presses down at your slit, coaxing more dampness to soil your cotton panties. Then a cry slips out of you when he touches your covered clit, rubbing on it until your hips are raised, meeting up his touch with the need to have more. 
The pleasure rises, and he suddenly stops before you can get there. He pulls away from you, and before you can even start protesting the loss of his touch, he moves his hands up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts easing them down your legs. 
“Beautiful,” he whispers once you are left with nothing else on. Nothing but your bare skin and the warm flush of lust running through your veins. “Absolutely stunning,” he continues with a shaky voice, as if his words are weighed down with both his pure desire and the deep emotion that is taking over him. 
Lost in his gaze, you resist every urge that you are feeling to shield yourself away. You hide nothing as you bare yourself to him—your body, your heart, your soul—the way you never had before. Despite this, even when you are diving into this willingly, with your heart and mind completely open, it doesn’t stop you from trembling as you lie beneath him the moment he climbs up the bed and slowly crawls his way over you. His gaze finds yours, and it feels like something simply snaps into place. As if everything is suddenly right again, and you are finally right where you belong. 
“This is where I belong.”
His words from the other day return to you as you briefly close your eyes. Despite the certainty that you could hear through his comment, your mind has been filled with your own denial, still refusing the chance to hope. One look is all it takes for you to feel the walls and the stubborn denial crumbling, when you find nothing more but sincerity and something else that is deeper than his dark passion coming out of his beautiful eyes. 
With your hands back on his shoulders, you pull him down to you. His hard cock twitches between you once it comes in contact with your hot pussy, but you focus on drawing his mouth on yours. And your mouths clash into a deep, hungry kiss, leaving you breathless while your entire body seems to burn in the heat of the moment.
His strong hands come back down, opening your legs for him with his tight grip on each thigh. Namjoon slowly rocks over you once he is settled nicely against you, brushing his cock against your hot slit, over and over again, with the dampness from your pussy making it easier for him to move. His cock feels slick as he grinds against you, and you know that he can feel the slickness that has reached down to the inner side of your thighs. 
Each stroke of his length against your slit makes your body tremble. Each time the head of his cock brushes against your clit, a strangled cry slips out of your lips. Once he falls into a steady pace, your hips begin to rock together with his. Your inner walls contract, needing to be filled, and you find no shame in expressing what you need as you break away from the kiss and run your hands down to cup his strong and ample buttocks, pressing him into you to show him what you want before you say it out loud. 
“I need you—” your voice breaks out into a soft gasp when he pushes himself up and cups your breast, only keeping one hand to prop himself up. 
“Yes, tell me what you need.” 
“You,” you gasp. “I need you. Inside me. Now.” 
With a grin on his face, Namjoon continues rocking and begins playing with your nipple. A gentle brush of his fingers brings your chest to rise. A pinch around the nub draws the sound of your sharp cry, and it almost feels like you are gushing right beneath your legs to the sensations he is bringing to your body.
“Say the magic word,” he teases with a groan. “Say ‘please’.” 
You give him a dirty look at his silly command, only to quickly yield when he begins to pull away, causing the flutters in your pussy to intensify. An immediate reaction that your body is giving you to remind you of what it needs. That you will not be able to rest until your needs are sated. 
“Please, Namjoon,” you finally start begging him, giving in to what is most important to you right now. Because you also know that your body isn’t the only thing that needs him. “Please, fuck me. Take me. Make love to me. I need you so—” 
The moment you begin begging him, giving him what he had asked of you, Namjoon has already started moving. His hips are lifted. His hand is between your bodies, reaching down to find your clit. It is his touch that steals the words right out of your mouth when he presses his thumb and forefinger on your rosebud, pinching it lightly before slowly rubbing it to ease the pain. 
As he watches you responding to his touch—with your head falling back onto the pillows, your hips arching to embrace both pain and pleasure, and your moan growing louder—he pulls his hand away from you and wraps his palm around his shaft. Keeping his eyes on your face, he gives himself a few strokes before guiding the hard tip of his cock at your wet entrance. 
The wet tip dips in, and Namjoon comes to halt, remaining still for a moment until the intense pulses rushing through both of your bodies start to wane. “Since you asked me so nicely,” he says with a cocky grin on his face, “I am more than pleased to give you exactly what you wanted.” 
Your mouth falls open, yet you cannot remember if you were planning to answer him or if you are simply giving him a silent cry as he pushes his way in. Your pussy walls break to a spasm as he glides deeper, moving in one inch and pulling back, then returning to get another inch deeper. He repeats the motion a few more times until you are adjusted to his size, until your pussy is more welcoming, allowing him to slide in to the hilt. 
Your hips rise once again to meet him as he gives you the final thrust that puts him all the way in until there is nowhere left for him to go. This time, he doesn’t wait. He doesn’t linger, even when you can hear the sounds that he is making as the rush of pleasure goes through his body. Even his head has fallen back. His eyes are fluttering close for a brief moment, yet they quickly open to find yours again when he begins rocking his hips. 
A shuddering gasp is drawn from you from the delicious way his cock is brushing against your pulsing walls. Sliding in and out, he makes you feel all the burning sensation again, over and over, and you can feel him slowly picking up his pace once pleasure takes over.
Every jerk of his hips becomes sturdier as he continues moving. Each thrust feels maddening, the way it wakes all the rush of pleasure, the delectable bliss that rises like subtle waves. Each gentle touch from his wandering hands bring everything together to a notch, even when he reaches up, pressing his firm hands on your breasts that have been rocking and shaking as your bodies rock together in the same intense rhythm. 
And you take in everything. Always with your eyes open, refusing to deny yourself the glorious sight of him embracing his pleasure. Always with your hands touching his arms, his shoulders, sinking into his back. When the wave of your climax hits, there is nothing that can stop it from coming. It engulfs you like a massive ripple taking you down to the depth of the ocean and plummeting you to the ground at the same time. 
Your entire body quivers, shaking in its release. The sound of your moans and cries bounce against the walls, and they are quickly joined by the sharp cry that he releases as he falls into his own release, pushed over to the edge by your blinding orgasm. 
The feeling that washes over you in your climax is deeper than content. It fills you with warmth, not only deep below as he fills you with the essence of his release, but also deep in your chest, where you are filled with love and compassion that are deeper than the wanton desire that you share. 
Because in your climax, the desire that has been running through your body is not the only thing that it fulfils. In your release, your souls are intertwined together, joining the two of you—two hearts, two bodies, two souls—into one. 
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Have you ever noticed how quickly time would pass whenever we were together?  Maybe that had been the reason why it never felt enough, when it seemed like we had just gone through a blip, and all of a sudden, our time was up. Suddenly, I was forced to see you go. For you to go back to the one you had promised your heart to first.  I have gone back to those moments I shared with you, over and over again, holding onto them tightly because memories are all that I have been allowed to keep from you. There had been many, many memories that we created together, yet they were still not enough. Am I too greedy? For wishing that we could’ve gotten more?  Or am I too selfish? Too dumb? For believing that I deserve to have more of you? To be able to keep you as a whole instead of just fleeting memories that would one day be replaced with new ones?  Was that the real reason why it was so hard for me to move on? When nobody that I ever met after you could never hold the candle when compared to you.  They could never compare. Because all I ever wanted was you. 
Unlike the last time you had to see him walk out the door and was made to wait for a few days until he finally returned to you, Namjoon hasn’t made you wait again for the past two weeks since his return. 
Every night, he has been coming back to you. You should have been questioning it. To wonder why he has been making it so easy to choose where he would sleep at night when you have been a complete nervous-wreck each time, haunted by the thought that things would suddenly start crumbling down without you ever having enough strength to stop it from happening. Haunted by the pain that you would have to endure once he slips away from your life once again. 
But after what happened the last time you talked about it, when you reminded him that he still had a different home to come back to, fear and uncertainty continue to torment you. 
What if the moment you question him about it, he suddenly has a change of heart? Then he would change his mind, finally realising that he was never supposed to be here with you from the beginning and to start thinking that everything has been nothing but a huge mistake.
What if the next time you would have to watch him walk out that door, it would be the time when you finally witness him walking out of your life? That he is never going to return, leaving only the shadow of his presence in your home? 
That is why you have chosen to keep all of those questions to yourself. To bury all the doubt and allow everything to fall into its course. You admit that you are being selfish about this, but you still want to enjoy the time that you have together where you get to hold him in your sleep and wake up to his smile the next morning. 
And just like that, time continues to pass. Each night has always been followed by a gloomy morning after where you would have to part ways with him as both of you must face real life responsibilities. Every day, you would be wondering if that morning was going to be the last time you would ever see him again. But each night, he would always come knocking at your door, ridding every bit of doubt that you ever have as he returns to you, always with a smile that makes it seem like it is a normal thing for him to be here with you. 
And Namjoon continues to do so each and every day, keeping his promises to come back into your arms until the days blend into weeks. 
Two weeks. When the realisation dawns on you of how much time has quickly passed, you wonder how it is possible for you to feel as if the days simply blurred together, making you believe that all you had done so far is to blink, and time simply went away. But you know that it is not true. It shouldn’t be making you feel vulnerable, continuously haunted by the fear that your story with him will be cut short—just like how it did back then—just when you believe that everything would be different this time. 
Each night, you always close your eyes with a feeling of acceptance. Always with your heart prepared and your eyes half-opened just so you wouldn’t fall back on your butt once the rug is pulled right under your feet and things would have to return to the way they were. When it would be time for both of you to return to your own paths. 
You take what you can for now, to cherish all the fleeting moments that you have with him, because you know that time has never truly been on your side.
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You reach out to search for him in the dark of the night. 
Your chest feels hollow when you suddenly anticipate finding an empty bed, with only his warmth and the scent of his cologne left behind after he slipped away without saying goodbye—just like what you had once experienced in the past. But your breath is caught when instead of finding cold, messy sheets when you stretch out your hand, you find his warm skin under your fingertips. The steady thrums of his heartbeat can be felt under your touch, letting you know that he is still there. 
That his presence is real.
“Why are you not sleeping?” Namjoon’s deep and hoarse voice breaks through the silence. His voice is still heavy with sleep, and you can still sense his exhaustion when he shifts under your touch. Guilt immediately overcomes you when you realise that he was probably awakened by your movements, as Namjoon has always been quite a light sleeper. And it is making you feel more guilty when you remember that he needs to have good rest tonight more than ever, knowing that today has been quite rough on him. 
You could easily tell that he was having a hard time the moment he walked into your home tonight. With his shoulders slumped forward, his gaze that looked dull even when he tried to force a smile when he first saw you, it was unmistakable how drained he seemed to be both mentally and physically. And that was before he started stumbling in his steps as he entered your home that you had to catch him before he could fall on the floor of your dining room. 
You had wondered what might have happened during the day while he was gone, when his lively self that you saw in the morning had returned to you looking despondent and defeated. Despite your curiosity, you forced yourself to bite your tongue and kept your questions to yourself when he said nothing about it. All you could do was to help him relax and get his mind off of it, while hoping that he would eventually share his troubles with you once he was ready.   
It took quite an effort, yet you finally excelled in helping to ease his mind by going down on your knees and taking him deep in your mouth. Each lick of your tongue around the head of his cock and each brush of your lips across his length washed away every distress that he had, taking them away bit by bit until he was moaning in his pleasure. But it wasn’t until he came to a climax—with his hands clutching your hair tightly as he kept your head in place so he could thrust his cock so deep that he was hitting deep into your throat, and his cum landing on your tongue, filling your mouth, then slipping down your throat—before the tension in his body finally faded away completely. 
Then you both went straight to bed, calling it a night after the long day that you both had. Finding cure through the warmth that you shared while being in each other’s arms, you had fallen asleep with the hope that both of you would be able to forget about all the troubles that you met through the day and be ready for the new day tomorrow. 
But it is when the silence gets so deep when dark thoughts return to you. They start getting into your head, pulling you out of your relaxing slumber for you to wake up far too soon with an unsettling feeling lingering in your chest. It feels to you now like an invisible weight pressing down on you, making it hard for you to even breathe. 
Thoughts about him disappearing in the night and leaving you with a broken heart have been haunting you. They come to visit you in the night, tormenting you even when you have fallen asleep with his warm embrace engulfing you. Tonight, that tormenting feeling seems to rise within you even stronger, bringing back the doubt that clings in your soul like a forlorn hope each time you are reminded of the anguished look that he wore when he first came home to you.
But as you manage to find the glint in his eyes through the dark, you know that you wouldn’t be able to tell him all of this. Not in the way that would only burden him with your insecurities while he is already dealing with a lot of things on his own. So you simply reach up and place a palm on his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your cold hand as you turn his face to look at you. 
“Have I told you that I’ve been having dreams?” 
The question that slips out of you—completely unbidden—has him raising his eyebrows. “No, I don’t remember that you have. What kind of dreams?” Namjoon curiously asks you, looking genuine as always to know more about what is going through your head.
Your lips lift to a small smile as you think deeply about it. “It’s odd, really. Before we met again, I would always have wonderful dreams. They mostly involved you and I’d wake up the next morning regretting that they hadn’t been real,” you share with him with a soft voice. Looking back to it now, you can barely remember what actually happened in those dreams after seeing him in them. As now that he is truly here, those dreams have been quickly replaced by memories. New memories that you are building together with him. Which only brings you to wonder, “but now that you’re here, and I’d get nightmares—” 
You stop for a brief moment. Your eyebrows are lowered as you recall the short dreams that you have been having lately. The dreams that seem ominous, and they haunt you even during the day when the fear of losing him suddenly manifests out of thin air. “Like how I’d dream about watching you go or waking up at night and realising that I’m all alone in my bed, just like I had been before you came back into my life.”
With a soft sigh, Namjoon touches your chin with his gentle fingers and guides you to look at him. “I’m here. You can feel me being here, don’t you?” he asks you as he brings one of your hands to his chest, pressing it against his heartbeat.
Closing your eyes, you press against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat with your palms so you can savour it. It brings a smile to your face when you feel it quickening under your touch. “Yes, you’re here. You’re real,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Then he brings your hand to his lips to kiss, silently asking you to open your eyes again.
“Maybe—” he whispers to you while clasping your hand, “I can show you just how real I am.” 
His words become the final warning as Namjoon captures your lips, kissing you slowly, tenderly, allowing you to feel him. Your body relaxes under his. Your head falls against the pillows. Warmth pours through your body as you move your hand to the back of his neck to get him to kiss you deeper. Then he shifts on the bed, sliding closer to your body under the blanket, and you get to feel quite a bit more of him.
You pull away from the kiss with a gasp, and he yanks the blanket off of his body, baring his bare skin for your eyes to see. Even in the darkness, you can still see the hard lines of his cock. Even when it is hardly grown to its full width, its solid girth stands at attention under your gaze. After all the years you spent touching him, learning all the ridges and veins on his body with the touch of your fingers, and then going back to those memories again by relearning everything about his body during the recent time that you have been spending with him, you can almost see it clearly without the need of light helping you see everything. The muted glow of moonlight mixed with the city lights filtering through the window also come to play when he moves closer, as they help you see the glistening bead of pre-cum that appears on the head of his cock, slipping out of him as it subtly throbs the more you give it attention. It makes your pussy wet just to see it, your hot walls clenching on the inside, while your mouth waters with the urge to have another taste. 
No words are shared as you climb on top of him to straddle his waist. Despite feeling confidence at first, you start feeling off-balance once you sit down on him. Moving in the dark while being taken over by lust might be the reason why, so you place your hands on the pillows right on either side of his head to keep yourself up. With your upper body practically hovering above him and not a single fabric left on to cover your skin, your breasts hang over his face. This brings the look of hunger through his eyes that seems to glow in the dark. You can feel it transpiring from him before he lifts his hands to touch you.
“Oh, yes. This position has definitely become my favourite one so far,” Namjoon says with a whisper that fades to a groan as he cups your bare breasts. He does it with tenderness at first, bringing all the shivers in your body until you relax into his touch. Then he starts squeezing them, pressing them hard enough until it hurts in the most pleasant kind of way which draws a moan from your lips. 
That pleasant feeling rises from your core, sending your hips swivelling above him. Your body quivers when the head of his cock brushes against your clit, then he intensifies it further as he lifts your breasts and captures one of your hardened nipples into his sinful mouth. 
“Ah—fuck,” you moan at the sensation that he is bringing into your body as he sucks, and licks, and swirls his tongue around your hardening nub. Your head falls back, yet you also feel as if you are getting fully awakened as you continue moving and rocking over him, brushing your hot slit along the length of his cock. 
He releases your nipple with a pop of his lips and groans at the pleasure that he is feeling. Lifting his hips, he lets you feel the firm press of his erection when he murmurs, “I want to be inside you.” 
With a gasp, you open your eyes to see him. The dark hunger that you saw earlier has been taken over with another. A look that shows more passion and a deeper kind of lust that encourages you to make a move. Licking your lips, you reach down between your legs, finding his hard cock that feels heavy in your palm. You keep your eyes on him as you lift your hips and position the tip of his cock at your hot entrance. Slowly, you start lowering yourself back onto his lap. The thick head of his cock parts your tight opening, teasing and coaxing you with its width. His hands are gripping tightly on your hips as he guides you to sit down on him. Your body trembles as you take him in, taking inch by hard inch of his length until he is fully seated inside you. 
“Is this…oh, fuck!”—you hisses when the tip of his cock comes brushing against your pulsing walls—”is this okay?”
“Perfect,” he hisses right back, just as you let out a moan at the throbbing pleasure now rising inside you. His eyes flutter open once he feels your pussy taking him deeper. Keeping his hands on your hips, he smiles to you and says, “Take what you need from me, baby. I’m here for you.” 
There is something in his words that pinches at your chest, but you simply ignore it. The only thing that matters now is that you need him, and you need to relish all the pleasure that he is offering to give you. Once the burst of pleasure that you feel from him being inside you wanes into a series of muted spasms, you start to move. You begin riding his cock, starting slow until you are better adjusted to his size, before finally picking up into a pace that sends you into a delirium, where you are sent into the height of pleasure that you can only ever gain from him. 
“Keep going, baby,” he urges. His head falls back with a groan coming out of his lips when you follow his guide, doing it exactly how he likes it as you rise and fall onto his cock. “Yes, keep doing it like that. Just like that.” 
Seeing his reactions and hearing his words excite you even more. It pushes you into becoming more wanton in your action, encouraging you further to give in to your needs and to please him while you chase your own release. 
The resounding climax comes soon enough. Just when your thighs are beginning to burn and shake in each firm stroke of his cock into your depth. The sound of his deep groan that comes through his lips as the first wave of your orgasm flutters around his cock becomes the final warning as he finds his release. His hold on your hips tightens, and he begins to buck his hips to meet your steady rocking. After a few thrusts, a few more steady strokes of his girth against your walls, he finally gives in to his needs and takes control. With a strained groan, he begins fucking into you with fervour, thrusting upward just as you come back down, each thrust keeps growing faster until you feel him getting more erratic in his movements. You open your eyes to see it happening as his face grows tense, right before you feel the warmth building up inside you as he comes. 
Seeing the sight of him embracing his climax, hearing the sounds that he is making, and feeling him throbbing inside you as he is filling you with his warm release quickly pushes you towards your own. You fall onto his chest when your orgasm hits you like a wave. Starting from your core, it flows intensely within you and spreads down to your limbs that you can no longer hold yourself up. 
And Namjoon gladly captures you in his arms, folding your body against his chest as he slowly turns to his side and gently helps you lie on your back before he pulls out. You immediately feel heavy with sleep the moment your head hits the pillows. Then your body sinks deeper into the sheets as Namjoon carefully pulls the blankets over your bodies. Once he is done tucking you back to sleep, Namjoon slides away from you. Yet he doesn’t leave you for too long, only rising to grab something to clean the mess on your bodies and on the sheets beneath you before he is back, gathering you in his arms again.
As if he wants to make sure that you can feel him even in your sleep.
Your eyes get heavier, until you no longer able to look at his face when he kisses the top of your head. “You did a good job, baby,” you vaguely hear his whisper as you are slowly drifting back to sleep, falling into a much calmer, more peaceful slumber. 
The words that he gives you next help soothe both your body and soul, as he murmurs to you softly with simple words that work almost like a spell and a fragile promise to give, “Remember this moment. Think about this every chance you get. Until there are no more space for those nightmares to come in when you sleep at night. Even when I’m not here with you.” 
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On a different night, you wake up to him shifting on the bed, searching for you. 
Namjoon hums softly as his hands find your waist in the dark. His fingers run down your skin as he gently turns you until you are lying on your back. 
“Hmm—” you hum and mumble as you are slowly getting dragged out of your slumber. Your bedroom is dark, with nothing more but the glow of the moonlight permeating into the room through the open curtains. With the help of the muted light, you can see the silhouette of his face—the unmistakable sight of his strong jaw that takes form, the tip of his nose and his full lips, before you manage to find his eyes through your bleary eyes—as he hovers above you. His lips turn to a slow grin once he notices that your eyes are fluttering open.
“Did I wake you?” he whispers, “I wasn’t planning to, I promise.” 
A lazy chuckle escapes you at how innocent he sounds. As if he is caught doing something that he shouldn’t. Something naughty, and he feels guilty for bothering you with it. Though the tone of his voice makes you wonder, “What are you trying to do?”
His grin deepens, and you can almost see the dent on his cheek—the dimple that you would usually touch when you are touching his face—taking form. “I’m suddenly feeling hungry. I was thinking about getting a midnight snack.” 
You blink through the dark and lazily raise your hand to point towards the kitchen. “Hmm—you can find some cookies in the cupboard. Or cereal. I know you love your cereal, so I bought them for you when I went to buy groceries today.” 
The sound of his low chuckle pierces through the dark. “Actually—” Namjoon dramatically sighs, making you even more curious. You force your eyes to open wider and look at him with your brows furrowed. “I was thinking about having a different kind of snack.” 
It takes you a moment too long to understand what he is getting at. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep and have only slightly adjusted to the darkness around you that you can barely see him moving. But you can definitely feel the heat of his kiss as he presses his lips on your bare shoulder, and you can feel the bed dips when he begins crawling down, all while his hands come down to claim a gentle grip on your thighs, parting your legs open for him. 
He draws the sound of your gasp when his warm breath falls on the apex of your thighs. The skin there is still soft and tender after taking his rough pounding after dinner—something that you can be sure he can still feel on his own skin because of the way you pinned him between your thighs while you were embracing your climax—so you jerk a little when you feel his lips brushing against it. Namjoon looks up before he does anything else, catching your gaze to ask, “You don’t mind, do you? I don’t think I can go back to sleep until I’m filled.” 
Your heart flutters once you are starting to see where this is going. Yet the feeling that materialises deep within your core is not as as innocent as the reaction that is coming from your chest, when heat pulses and you get to feel something wet leaking from between your legs. Smiling at him, you prop yourself up on your elbows so you can get a good look of his face. “No, I don’t mind it at all,” you answer, already feeling your walls pulsing from anticipation. 
“Good,” is the only thing that you can hear from him as he dips between your legs. He lowers himself further, almost sinking into the sheets as he starts kissing his way up from the inner sides of your thighs and all the way up to your folds. His hands are steady as they hold your thighs apart to keep you from closing them on his face, and his mouth expertly finds your nether lips even without any help from the lights.
“Oh, God,” you moan softly with your head falling back, your fingers sinking into the sheets. Every nerve within your body sparks alive, awakened from whatever state they were in while you were still deep in sleep as Namjoon begins working his mouth and tongue against your hot core. His jaw feels rough against the soft and tender skin of your thighs, and you are almost sure that you can feel the thin presence of his stubble which he rarely allows to grow thickly on his chin. His warm tongue feels delightful as he laps between your folds, licking away every drop of your arousal as he slides his way up and down your slit. 
Namjoon lets out a soft, agreeing hum once he manages to find your swollen clit, which he quickly captures between his sinful mouth to give a light suck. The sharp gasp that you make from the rush urges him to continue. Alternating between working his mouth around your clit and slipping his tongue down your slit, he sends shock waves of pleasure through your body. It gets you crying out, moaning his name with ragged breaths as you ride the pleasure.  
“Hmm—this is it,” he mumbles with his mouth still pressing at your folds. “I fucking love the way you taste, I can never get enough of it.” 
His words are muffled once his mouth returns to your heat again. As the pleasure rises, your muscles tighten within you, coiling so fast towards your climax. Twisting the sheets under your hand, you reach down with the other and presses the back of his head deeper into you. A handful of his thick hair slips between your fingers and you give a clench, not enough to hurt, but enough to help you feel like you are still in control of yourself despite feeling like you are unraveling. 
Soon, your breath quickens as your climax surges through your body in intense waves. Your toes curl into the sheets beneath you, while your hips jerk violently against his mouth, pressing down to chase it as it comes. His hold on you tightens as you writhe in your pleasure, keeping you down as he continues working his mouth to devour your release. 
And he still doesn’t stop. Still not letting up even as the spasms of your climax slowly wane into a flutter.
You are only partly aware of the way you are moving, riding the waves of your orgasm with your hips rocking into his face. Your hand sinks deeper into his hair, nearly pulling at the strands as you press his head deeper, just as you are beginning to feel the pulses of pleasure rising back up again. You are teetering on the edge, yet your stubbornness takes over, unwilling to let it come to you so quickly when you had just earned your climax.
Something that he quickly notices, and he doesn’t let you get what you want so easily. 
As your pussy walls are contracting with faint signs of another climax getting through you, and the sounds of your moans and your rough gasps blend together, he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. And he doesn’t stop until he finds the sweet spot that sends your pleasure soaring higher. High enough until your entire body quivers with it, your hips almost lifting while being taken over by the delirious bliss. 
Noticing that he has found your weakness, he continues working his fingers, moving it in and out and pressing repeatedly on that very same spot which had drawn a reaction from you, and he keeps doing it in the same rhythm as his tongue. It makes you feel even more elated in your pleasure, until you finally reach your final breaking point and your second orgasm comes rolling through your body. 
Your legs are shaking. Your heart is pounding so loudly that you can barely hear anything else but the sound of your ragged breathing. And you are unaware of his next movements as he slowly pulls away and begins climbing up, finding a new position as he hovers over your body. 
With a sly grin, Namjoon licks his lips and uses the back of his hand to wipe off the rest of your essence that is coating his chin. “Delicious. Exactly what I needed,” he whispers as he moves on top of you. He presses his lips on yours, getting you to taste yourself through his tongue as he deepens it. 
Still lost in the momentary bliss, you struggle to catch your breath. Yet your body seems to be entranced, when it reacts on its own the moment you feel his erection pressing on your legs and you readily open yourself to him, allowing him to return to your center where he settles into position, going back right to where he belongs. 
A sigh comes out through your lips as he moves his lips from your mouth and down to your neck. He nips at your skin, drawing a sharp inhale of breath that comes out louder as he enters you. He starts moving, with deep and slow thrusts as if he wants to take his time with it this time instead of giving in to his wanton needs. 
As the pleasure rises inside you, climbing at a slow and steady rhythm that feels comforting at the same time that he makes you feel euphoric, a new wave of emotions comes through your chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his hips as you unravel this new feeling that comes poking at your chest. And you continue that way, giving in to the delightful pleasure as you rock into him, meeting his slow thrusts with your rocking hips. Doing it over and over until it becomes so intense and the coil within your core snaps.
Tears drop to your cheeks as you succumb to your final orgasm, and you quickly bury your face on the crook of his neck before he can see yourself falling apart. In the height of your pleasure, you suddenly feel emotional, like a dam had just been broken inside you. Not only because of the euphoric feeling that is taking over you in your release, but also at the realisation that comes through your mind right after the blissful fog begins to subside and your mind is cleared enough for you to think. 
Fear engulfs you when the reality of your circumstances finally dawns on you, when you realise that there is no possible way that you are going to be able to survive if he should ever decide to leave you again.
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The first time I found myself in your arms and felt how easy it was to fall into your embrace, I simply thought I was dreaming. For the first time in my life, I felt how beautiful it was to fall in love, and to be so loved in return, and I never wanted it to end.  And my prayers were heard, because you never left.  Even when I was ready to let you go, you simply held me tightly in your arms and never let go.  How was a girl not to fall in love so deeply when something like that happened? To have the only person that she dreamt about suddenly loving her back, giving her all the attention that she could only dream of? Whenever I would recall that night in my head, I would often wonder—what would have happened to us if that night never happened? Where would we be today?  How would our story have played out, if only you never knew how I truly felt for you?
Eight years ago…
“What am I to do with you?” Namjoon whispered, breaking the silence that had been accompanying the two of you since the moment you sat down with him on the porch. 
The student residential that you rented together with a few of your close friends from college had normally been quiet. But that had not been the case that night, and you had no other choice but to escape them by hiding on the dark, dimly-lit porch.  
Keeping your eyes closed so you could feel him, you let out a soft giggle and asked, “Why? Am I so hard to handle?” 
You could sense him smiling without having to see it when he answered, “Saying that would be an understatement.” He kissed the top of your head, and your heart soared. A content sigh slipped out of you as you wondered if this was just a dream. Because it felt too good to be true that you refused to believe that it was real. That he was giving you all the attention that you had craved and waited for for a long time. 
Never once had you ever thought that you would be here at all. To be sitting by his side with his arm around your shoulders and your head resting against his chest. To be this close to him when you had only been able to watch him from afar before, let alone to be teasing each other like this. 
His low chuckle stirred something deep in your heart. Because you loved how it sounded, and you loved how he made you feel when he did just that. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, before shifting on the seat and turning you in his arm so he could look at your face. “You know that you’ve been driving me crazy, don’t you? I never know what to do with you, especially when you’re like this.” 
“Like what?” you asked him with a smile, though it wavered when you caught the sad look in his eyes. Almost as if he was feeling guilty. 
Namjoon let out a sigh and briefly closed his eyes before saying, “Looking like you’ll cry if I try to pull away.” 
Your heart ached upon hearing this. Because he was right. You did feel like you were about to cry. You often felt that way with him, mostly during moments like this one, when he was just about to leave you for the night. Watching him leave had always been torture, when it almost felt like a wake up call to see him walking away, reminding you of the reality that you kept denying to see to keep the dream life that you were living in with him. That night specifically, you felt like everything around you was slowly crumbling, that he felt so far away even when he was still there, holding you close to him. 
Taking a deep breath, you breathed in his scent and his entire presence, and you were instantly brought back to the night he first took you in his arms. Back to the first time you ever felt his love. 
Merely a couple of months had passed since the night of your confession. 
It was the night that was supposed to have given you closure. A night where you were supposed to close a chapter of your life which you spent keeping your unrequited love a secret from the world. 
Hearing the news of his upcoming graduation had been the catalyst for you to make that decision to finally put your truth out there. You had hoped that admitting all the feelings that you kept denying through the years would give you a sense of relief, a chance to be freed from the treacherous feeling that was deeply rooted inside your heart, and then you would be able to find a way to move on from him once the secret was out.
He was leaving anyway so it wouldn’t matter once he is gone away.
That was the silly logic that you kept in mind when you talked to him about it, when you finally told him everything in the final month he was to remain on campus. 
“I’ve liked you for a long time. I tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder and harder to forget and deny how I felt when you kept being nice to me and you continued answering my calls. I’m not asking for anything, just for you to listen and to know that I’ve fallen for you. As silly as it sounds, but I do love you.”
There was no expectation on your part to what kind of response that you would be getting from him. At the very least, you had put aside all kinds of expectation in the first place, knowing that his heart belonged to someone else and there would never be a place for you in his life. The only thing that you expected was to feel relieved, which you successfully gained the moment the truth was out in the open. It felt freeing once you managed to put your emotions into words. It felt peaceful, that the moment you were done, you were able to look back at him with a smile on your face, and a resolved feeling that you were ready to let him go. 
But Namjoon refused to let you go. His offer to take you home right after that encounter had unexpectedly escalated into something else, which finally became the beginning of your nefarious conduct which lasted for so long. It became the main reason why you were in his arms this very night as you clung to him almost desperately to feel his presence for the last time before you had to see him go.
Namjoon cupped your cheek gently with his palm as he looked deeply into your eyes. While you had no clue of what was going through his mind or what he was seeing in yours at the time, you had the sudden overwhelming feeling of fear. Because you already felt him slipping away from your grip, and even if you could still feel his warmth pressing against you, the distance that would start to grow between you became palpable. 
And you felt helpless when you had no idea how to change that. It was already late at night and you could hear your housemates going about inside the house to end the evening, but you cared nothing of it. You felt as if you were inside this small bubble that felt comforting yet fragile, and you only had seconds before the bubble would crack and everything would be gone.
That he would be gone for good.
He was supposed to be leaving that week—actually leaving—and deep down, you could feel that the moment he left, that would be the end of it. And in his silence, you could almost feel that he was saying goodbye to you for good. 
You had no idea what you were thinking then. Perhaps you weren’t thinking at all, and you had simply acted out of instinct. That would have been the perfect excuse for the indecent response that you gave to his innocent touch. 
As his hand moved gently across your cheek, you turned your face and pressed your lips on his palm, kissing him softly. His breath was caught right then, as he never expected that you would have done something so intimate, yet so risky at the same time. 
His next exhale of breath was trembling as he brushed his thumb across your lips. As if he wanted so badly to kiss you but was afraid that someone might come out of the house and witness it happening. Wanting the same thing, you did something else to make up for not being able to kiss him so openly while showing him what you had desired from him at the time. You kept your eyes on him as you slowly parted your lips, and took the tip of his thumb and started sucking it gently. 
It was a simple act. Something that was so subtle. And yet, you could tell how much it was affecting him. The shudder that ran through his body was delicate and nearly muted, even more than your little act, but you could feel it through your body which was connected to his. Even if you weren’t able to feel it, his reaction was still visible to your eyes. Because you had spent years watching him, taking notes of his emotional clues and the expressions that he would make during various circumstances, and the dark look in his eyes was an unmistakable sign of his desire burning from the simple teasing act that you were doing to him. 
You continued nibbling on his thumb and taking the digit into your lips just a knuckle deeper. Then you started sliding your lips back and forth, stopping briefly to slowly bite the tip and lick around it, until you heard the sound of his soft gasp and his eyes began fluttering to close when it got too much for him to handle. A soft groan came out of him and he tried to pull his hand away. His thumb slipped out of your lips, yet you caught his hand, placing your palm at the back of his wrist as you turned your face to start kissing his fingers. 
His eyes never wavered as he watched you kissing his digits, doing it excruciatingly slow while keeping your eyes on him the whole time, allowing him to see your intention through your gaze. What you wanted from him was clear, yet you wanted him to see it for himself instead of having to say it out loud with your words. Exhaling a long, shaking breath, Namjoon licked his lips and once again brought his thumb to brush your lips, before intentionally pressing its tip between them and sliding it in once again so he could feel your tongue lapping across the skin. 
“I really, really, have no idea what to do with you,” he whispered, and his voice trembled as he did his best to hold back from reacting more, yet you felt no remorse for making him feel this way. Before you could say a thing, he tightened his hold around your shoulders and moved his hand away from your lips to the nape of your neck. He played with the strands of your hair as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours. “You’re killing me, baby,” he whispered with a bitter chuckle. It sounded desperate, as if he was struggling so hard to fight against his restraint.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do with you,” you teased him with a whisper. Being this close, the urge to kiss him felt overwhelming, yet you held back and simply bit down your bottom lip before you could allow yourself to break all of your restraint and give in to temptation. 
But then he threw all of your effort out the window when he suddenly offered, “Come with me.” 
You opened your eyes and looked at him questioningly before asking, “Where?” 
A smile appeared on his face, and the sadness and guilt that he showed you earlier faded into relief as he found a resolution that was going to change everything. “Away from here. I just—” he started to say, stopping himself when his own self-doubt came over him. He looked nervous as he made you this offer, as if he was expecting you to refuse when he asked again, “Please. Do you trust me?” You nodded, and he continued, “Will you come home with me?” 
The answer came to you so easily, even without him having to convince you further. Because you were willing to follow him wherever he wanted to go, just as long as you could be together with him. “I’ll go anywhere you want me to,” you said to him, and his relieved smile became more visible. 
No words were ever needed to be spoken as he kissed your temple, finally unable to resist giving you more while still being hidden under the shadows of the night. Then he took your hand in his as he stole you away from your friends and the house that you had been residing in since sophomore year, without ever giving you a chance to change your mind. 
That night was when everything between you officially shifted. When everything that you had expected to be a short term kind of fling turned into something else as you left with him. It was risky, and it was probably the stupidest thing that you could have ever done in your life. But as you followed him that night, you were absolutely ready to take all the risk and to face everything that may come in your way of spending that part of your life with the man you loved. 
Because being with him worth all the pain, the tears, and all the sacrifice. Even if it meant sacrificing your light just to have it all. 
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Present day…
“Will this be okay?” 
You raise a hand to cover your eyes from the bright sunlight so you can have a good look at him. Your lips lift to a hint of a smile as you watch Namjoon moving before you. Bent down on his knees, his arms are flexed forward as he is busy spreading a picnic blanket on top of the small patch of ground that he chose not long after arriving in the city park. 
In your eyes, he looks almost as if he is completely out of his element, which is an amusing sight to see. It isn’t so much about him being out here under the sun, nor it has anything to do with your surroundings, but more because he is showing you a different side of him that you have longed to see. Ever since the first time you got to know him, Namjoon has always seemed so calm and collected. Always so put together. Yet as he tries to meticulously sort out the picnic blanket, he looks a bit awkward and clumsy, though he still keeps a wide smile on his face that seems unrestrained and free, a sight that you enjoy seeing from him the most.
There is another thing about him which draws your attention aside from his bright smile that warms your heart. You look down as he stretches out to tame the corners of the blanket that keep rising due to the passing wind, watching the muscles on his back and shoulders straining under his thin t-shirt as he works to solve the problem while treating it as if he is working on a piece of art. 
“Alright, I think that’s about it,” he says with a groan as he carefully pushes himself up, snapping your thoughts just before they can get anywhere near the dark places in your mind. He moves quickly as he rises back to his feet, giving you no chance to say a thing before returning to your side. 
“So…what do you think? I figured this spot would be good enough for us. Don’t you think so?” Namjoon asks you with a soft sigh, sounding quite relieved and proud of himself for his work that it brings a smile to your face when you see it.
You take another look at the spread blanket, noticing how it is positioned on even ground where the grass is soft enough to cushion your weight and just arm’s length away from the nearby line of trees to give it enough shade to protect you both from the sun. There is quite a comfortable distance between this spot to the crowd of picnic-goers that you see filling the park, making it an ideal place for you to enjoy this leisure moment together with enough privacy from prying eyes.
“It’s perfect,” you tell him as you carefully place the heavy picnic basket that you have been carrying on top of the blanket. Straightening up to your full height, you breathe in the fresh air around you and smile as you relish the warm sunlight falling on your skin. “The weather is lovely today.”
With a soft hum, he takes a step closer and places his hands on your shoulders. “That’s why I decided to take you out here today. I want to enjoy being in the sun with you,” he gently says as he kisses the top of your head. “This is much better than being cooped up at home on your free day, don’t you agree?”
Something about his question puts you to a halt. It isn’t so much about what he said or how he said it, but it was something that his question implied which suddenly makes you feel uneasy. He probably didn’t mean anything other than pointing out the fact that you have been spending your day offs resting at home, oftentimes with him, instead of spending the day hanging out in the open like this. 
And he wasn’t truly wrong when he brought it up either. Because that is exactly what you were planning to do to spend your long weekend. But as fate has it, he found out that his schedules are aligned to yours and wasted no time to came by so he could be with you. It was a nice surprise to find that you would be able to keep him to yourself this weekend, but then he gave you yet another joyful surprise when he first suggested to take you out on this cute picnic date. You were obviously overjoyed by the idea that you immediately agreed without thinking too much of it. 
Looking back to it now, you finally realise why it had brought you such joy when he talked about taking you out here today, and why it has felt peculiar to be out in the open like this for a change. It was all due to the fact that you have somewhat grown more used to seeing him in a completely different setting. 
Due to the circumstances of your relationship, you have often spent more time with him in the privacy of your home, completely hidden from the world outside. Even when he takes you out on dates, he would find a way to keep things on the down low. From taking you to those dinner dates in restaurants with private rooms or quaint cafes on the outskirts of the city, to slipping into the movie theatres once the lights have been turned off. 
Before today, you have only treasured those stolen moments with s joyful heart. But now, as you are standing here with him under the sun, a different kind of emotion comes through your chest. It feels dark and heavy, and yet you have no intention to delve deeper into it. Not now, when you are supposed to be enjoying this moment with him.
Sighing, you ignore the feeling of bitterness that is slowly making its way to ruin your mood. “I guess you’re right,” you say to him, “this is a nice change.” 
A nice change that should be making you happy. And yet—
Taking a good look around you, you get a view of the spread of green grass that appears bright under the sunlight. Nearly half of it is now covered by various blankets and folded chairs in different spots where people are lounging under the sun. Most of the picnic-goers have come here in groups. Most of them came here with families and friends, while there are couples who seem to be enjoying their time together. 
Normally, you wouldn’t care much about the people around you, much less to compare yourself with them, as you are afraid that it might shatter the illusion that you have created for yourself. You have no idea what compels you to do it now as you watch closely at the lovers around you while you are leaning back against Namjoon’s broad chest. A sense of longing comes blooming inside you, as you picture yourself being in their shoes. To be the one holding his hand so freely in front of these people, to be showing him love—kissing him, touching him, laughing together under the sun—instead of cowering under the shadows. You wish you could be like them, to have what they have, instead of feeling like you have a target placed on your back for the sinful secret that you are hiding inside. 
That’s because you are not like any other couples that are out here today, who truly deserve what they have now. 
You wince as the bitter voice of your conscience fills your head, and the bitterness that you vaguely felt earlier starts gripping harder at your chest. It comes to remind you about your choices, the reason why you are more deserving to only be able to embrace his love in the safety of your home, or while you are hidden in the private room within the fancy restaurants that he often takes you to or to the outskirts of the city where you would be far away from prying eyes. 
Like a dirty little secret that he has to hide.
“So—” Namjoon whispers as he kisses your shoulder, oblivious to the dew that is forming in the corner of your eyes as reality hits you hard that the fractures in your heart start to resurface. And yet somehow, even in his unawareness, he still manages to help soothe your unsettling feelings away as he gently rubs his palms up and down your upper arms. “Aren’t you going to sit down and join me? You know I worked my hardest to get everything set up perfectly.” 
You briefly close your eyes, silently hoping that it would be enough to clear the tears away so he wouldn’t notice your change of mood before you get to look at him again. “I suppose it would be a shame to waste all of that hard work,” you whisper to him while feigning a teasing tone, yet you avoid looking into his eyes as you take his hand, allowing him to help you step onto the blanket. 
Namjoon joins you once you are settled nicely on the picnic blanket. He easily finds comfort as he lies back with his elbows propped behind him after he is done helping you set out the drinks and snacks that you brought out today. 
“Now this”—he sighs as he stretches his long legs out—”is comfortable. Just how I pictured it when I thought about bringing you out here today.” 
His comment puts a smile on your face. “I hate to admit it, but when you first offered to take me out today, I thought you had gone mad. One minute you talked about how cozy it was to cool off at my apartment while complaining how hot it was outside under the blaring sun, the next minute, you started making lunch and was packing them up in a picnic basket,” you tease him with a chuckle, making him laugh as he still has no idea about the dark storm that is brewing inside your heart. Tilting your head up, you embrace the warmth falling on your face and exhale a deep sigh, hoping that it can help calm your heart. “Thank God I decided to listen. It really is nice being out here.” 
Hoping to ease the troubling feeling inside, you relish the warm sun for a bit longer. Not realising that he is using this moment to slide closer. Until you feel his warmth hovering against your side. You turn to look at him as you open your eyes, finding his warm gaze looking back at you. 
“I’m also glad that you agreed to come out here with me. I think we both needed this,” Namjoon says to you with a gentle smile on his face. For a brief moment, you wonder if he can sense your uneasiness when he appears to be cautious as he shifts a bit closer to you. But you soon figure out that he has something else in mind as he slides one hand around your waist and pulls you his side. “This is one of the things that I missed,” he murmurs as he leans down, once again pressing his lips on the exposed skin on your shoulder. “Do you remember back then, how we would escape from the city together and find places where no one would recognise us?” 
Of course, you still remember. Those had been some of the old memories that you still have of those days and the precious moments that you would always look back to. While most of the details from your old love affair have turned foggy over the years, there are still small moments that you would often revisit when you were thinking about him, even long before your fated reunion which had eventually led to this day. 
The night when you confessed your feelings, for example, has been the one memory that will forever be engrained in your mind and would return to you even when you try your best not to think about it. Then there was the night where your sin nearly got exposed, when he took you home from your secret date during the end of semester break and you arrived to a full house as your housemates had returned early from their vacation. You stayed under the shadows on the porch that night for a long time until both of you decided you weren’t ready to end the tryst, and he sneaked you out of your home to take you to his, where your carnal tryst continued all through summer in the safety of his home. 
But the part of your memories that would often cause your heart to flutter would be the times he took you on those secret escapades that he mentioned. When you were not being hold up in your bedroom nor were you hiding in his house downtown, you used to sneak away to have your secret outings to various places where nobody would be able to find or recognise either of you. You have often thought of those moments as the memories that gave you joy to remember. At the same time, thinking of those moments also reminded you that everything you had with him was real, instead of something that you conjured from your own dark fantasy. 
Oftentimes, you would wonder if both of you remember those events differently. If he had been simply using those outings to steal moments with you while hiding your relationship from the people who knew who you were, while in the meantime, you sought validation through those stolen moments and have been remembering them as passionate getaways to savour where you felt loved, and where you were finally able to garner his full attention the entire time without anything else getting in the way. You might never be able to find answers now after so long. But no matter what kind of intention hidden in those moments, the truth would always remain the same. That you were simply pretending to be actual lovers while you were together in places away from home, always taking all the chances you could get to forget about the reality waiting back home.
Before you can say anything, Namjoon gives you a small smile to say, “I won’t blame you if you had chosen to forget about those times we spent together. I would understand if you wanted to forget. But for me, it was hard to forget about them. The time we had during those outings,” he says, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, “were the happiest time I ever had. I would think about the little trips we had when I’m alone, wishing that I was out in the sun, having my own secret adventures to get away from the city with you by my side.”
You want to correct him and let him know that you have never once forgotten about the beautiful time you shared. Yet you bite your tongue, when your curiosity only draws you to ask something else. “Have you not been able to do that with—” 
A knowing look flashes through his gaze. There is no need for him to hear the end of that sentence to know what you are about to ask him. And he isn’t allowing you to question it out loud or to mention about her, when he leans back in to give a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips and turns his attention on the neglected food and drinks that have been spread out before you. 
“Why don’t we start on lunch before the food gets wasted for being under the sun too long?” Namjoon offers you as he reaches out to open one of the food containers. Just like how he meticulously prepared this entire picnic set-up, he carefully peels one wrapped sandwich before handing it out to you and carefully prepares the salad that he packed up together with it. He then continues by reaching out to grab one of the tumblers filled with cold drinks and prepares a pair of clear glasses. The ice inside the tumbler makes sharp clinking sounds as he takes it in his hand. 
“I’m sure you’re thirsty too. I made us something that would help us cool down under this heat,” he says as he hands you one of the glasses and starts pouring the drink that turns out to be homemade sangria which he prepared from home, kept chilled with extra ice inside its container. “I have purposely added a hint more of your favourite red wine in this,” Namjoon softly chuckles as he presents you the glass of drink, though not before dipping a straw to go with it. “I hope the drink is refreshing enough for the heat. Maybe it can help you relax a bit more too.” 
You blink your eyes, surprised at how on point his comment was. You never realised that he might actually be able to sense your uneasiness no matter how hard you have been trying to hold it back. You say nothing to that, however, and choose to simply take a hefty drink of your alcoholic punch, hoping that it can help to ease your mind. 
As the alcohol hits you, a comforting warmth rolls through your body, while the ice does enough to cool you down. You take another long sip, relishing how good it makes you feel while ignoring the fact that it wouldn’t take long for you to start getting tipsy with how much wine he added into this drink. 
Maybe it would be better once you do get a bit more tipsy, you simply convince yourself, because then your mind would stop going back to those dark places in your head. With a content sigh, you look up at him and smile. “You did good with your choice of drink. I’m sure this is going to help me a lot to relax. Though I should probably warn you that I can be a bit of a nuisance if I get drunk too early in the day, so you have to be responsible when that happens.” 
“I don’t mind,” Namjoon simply says to you as he leans back closer. Within a blink of an eye, his face has become much closer, and his lips are now hovering against yours. “I’ll take all the responsibility, as long as you’re having a good time with me,” he adds with a gentle voice, before giving you a chaste kiss right on the lips. “Now eat.”
Smiling bashfully, you pull away and start diving into the meal. For a short moment, it feels like you both fall into some sense of normalcy in the guise of your picnic date. With any thoughts about the past pushed aside, and no more conversation shared to remind yourselves about his other life that he leaves behind just to be here with you, you allow yourself to indulge in this peaceful moment where you can once again pretend that you are just as normal as the other pairs of lovers around you. 
You both fall into an ease as you talk about mundane things in life between the meal. Sometimes while teasing each other, other times giving each other light touches and stolen kisses just to celebrate each other’s presence. You watch endearingly as little children run across the opening to play together, some chasing their pets while others are chasing each other, filling the air around you with the sounds of their laughter. You have long stopped comparing yourself to other people around you when you glance towards the pair of lovers sitting nearby, finding shelter under the shades just like you do as they lean against each other while watching the view around them. 
“I must say,” you say to him as you pick up a piece of chips after finishing your sandwiches, “that I didn’t expect that you would do so well with all this food. The mini sandwiches?”—you hum softly—”so good.” 
Namjoon laughs at your comment. “You’re exaggerating,” he says, though it is quite obvious that he enjoys the compliment when he flicks the tip of your nose and kisses it. “But it does more than enough to boost a guy’s ego to be complimented by his girlfriend and I can’t say that I minded it. I feel like I can start bragging about being the best sandwich maker in town.”
His antics draw a giggle out of you. He doesn’t often act this way, which is why it pleases you when he can be so open like this from time to time. “Well, I like boosting your ego,” you tell him as you reach out to grab your drink right after he refills it, “among other things.” 
This got him lifting his eyebrows. He can tell that the alcohol is already affecting you as you are starting your third glass, after only switching to the fresh juice once in the middle of your meal earlier at his advice to avoid getting tipsy too soon. “And may I know what are these other things might be?” he asks as he rests on his side, propping himself on one elbow and facing you. 
You bite your lips before you haughtily answer him, “I think you already know the answer to that.” Your gaze trails down his upper arm, drawn by the way it flexes under his shirt to hold up his weight. Uninhibited thoughts start rushing through your head, drawn by the building lust that suddenly rises to its peak. Add that to your tipsiness, and you suddenly become a bit shameless. Mischievous ideas run through your head as you think of ways to tease him, to misbehave so you can draw a reaction from him for once. 
Pulling the straw between your lips, you take a slow slip of your cold drink while feeling hyper aware of the attention that he is giving you. You can feel his gaze on you without you having to take a look, and you can feel him watching every movement you make. Feigning innocence and acting as if you have no wicked intention in mind, you start playing around with the thin straw, biting and sucking at the tip and sliding your lips lower like you are sucking—something else. His eyes seem to grow a tad bit darker as he is drawn to what you are doing, bringing a smile to your face at how easy it is to affect him so much. 
His lips tug to a subtle smirk when he lifts his eyes at you. “Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing right now,” Namjoon mutters to you with a low voice. 
“What am I doing?” you tease him back, and he easily retaliates by pulling you to him. You laugh as you fall against his chest and feel his lips pressing at your skin, just below your earlobe. Your breath quickens, just as you hear the soft groan that he is making, no doubt still affected by your teasing. “Would people be able to notice if we try to do something—naughty, under these trees?” 
He chuckles softly and turns you to face him. “Like what?” he asks while leaning forward until his face gets so close to yours, “kissing you deeply until you forget how to breathe, or pulling you to my lap so you can ride me when there is a risk that these people can see what you’re doing?” 
You bite your lips, now becoming the one affected by his teases and his words when you imagine doing everything that he suggested while being out in the open. You hate being the one to yield first when you were the first to start this game, so you lean closer and brush your lips against his earlobe as you whisper to him, “I’m thinking about doing something more risky, like taking you inside my mouth like I did with the straw.” 
“Fuck—” he curses under his breath. You can tell that you had managed to send his mind all the way down to the gutter, and his body is reacting down below. He has his eyes closed briefly when you pull back. 
“I remember that we did something similar a while back—” you mutter softly with a smile as you are brought back to the past yet again. Bringing you back to another unforgettable moment that you shared with him then. “Remember when you took me up on that hiking trip right outside of town? I wasn’t that big of a fan when it comes to hiking, but you convinced me to it.” 
Namjoon lifts his eyebrows and starts wiggling them. “I remember doing a lot more than convincing,” he teases you with a deep chuckle. 
“Oh, we also did a lot more while we were up there on that hiking hill,” you tease him back. Your cheeks immediately flush as you recall that weekend. Years have passed, but that day remains in your memory to this day. The long hike that you did with his hand sometimes reaching out to yours just to make sure that you could keep up with him. The scenery that you saw—the tall trees, the spread of fresh green grass and odd-shaped boulders that you found once you were close to the top, the hidden spring and small waterfall that you found between the carved ridges. But the magnificent and unforgettable part of it was slipping into the hidden grotto right below the waterfall after dipping into the spring, where he held you with his strong arms while you rocked above him, filling the rocky walls with the sounds of your wet bodies slapping against each other under the blinding bliss. 
You lick your lips at the memory of your pleasure, and how you dropped down on your knees right before you started to make your way back down the hill and took him in your mouth one last time until he unraveled completely. Tilting his head, Namjoon looks at you closely with an intrigued look filling his eyes. “Do I want to know what’s going on in your dirty mind right now?” he asks you with a mischievous smile on his face. 
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you tease him. “Do you want me to share?” You look back at him, smiling, before taking the straw back between your lips, slipping it deep enough until it almost reaches your throat and start sliding your lips up towards the tip before actually taking a sip.
There is something dark in his gaze when he realises what you are doing. But you only manage to get a quick glimpse of it before he pulls you back to his chest and buries his face at the crook of your neck. “You’re fucking killing me here,” he says with a deep, frustrated groan, before he finally gives in to temptation, as he pulls your drink away and captures your lips, giving you a deep kiss that would have been enough to make any child or bystander blush if only they can see it. 
He makes you completely breathless from the kiss, and your skin flushes with warmth that has nothing to do with the bright sun above your head. Yet the moment he pulls away, you quickly notice the way his dark eyes seem to dim. 
A heavy silence soon grows between you, and you are quick to notice the change in his mood. There is nothing unsettling about it, nothing about it that makes you feel like he is slipping away or that your little world is crumbling to pieces, yet it is still enough to make you start questioning things. As he lies back down on his side like before, he seems to be so deep in his thoughts that you feel curious to know what is going through his mind right now. Something tells you that he isn’t reminiscing the hiking trip that had gotten you feeling warm or many other liaison that you shared with him in the past, so you cannot stop yourself from asking him, “What are you thinking?” 
The corner of his lips tilt to a small grin as he mulls over his answer. “I just—can’t remember when was the last time I felt like this,” he finally says to you with a wistful tone of voice, a dimple appears on his cheek when he looks at you.
“Like what?” you question him, feeling more curious than ever to get inside his head. To know how he actually feels about being with you. “How do you feel?”  
Namjoon releases a deep sigh as he deeply thinks about it. “I feel like I’m free. Free to do whatever I want without feeling heavy around my shoulders. Free to be myself,” he says, sounding content as he says these words, as if he is relieved to be able to get them out of his chest, “not to be shackled by anything worldly that is forcing me to be someone that I am not.” 
Something about his words, his revelation, pierces through your heart. You have always wondered why he would always have such a forlorn and faraway look in his eyes at times, but this is the first time you get to hear what is happening behind the looks that he makes. Namjoon grabs your hand and starts rubbing his thumb in circles across your skin, finding refuge in your presence alone. “I love how I can always be free to joke around like what I’m doing it with you and enjoy the things that may raise some eyebrows for some.”
His words—and the way he says them—draws a smile to your face. Even when your heart feels heavy because of what he seems to be dealing with. He looks straight into your eyes when he sighs deeply and continues to say, “It took me some time to realise that I’ve only ever been able to do these things when I’m with you.” 
You take a deep breath, trying your best not to get emotional. “To do what, exactly? To follow your needs and act on them?” you tease him, hoping that you can lighten things up just as the tension coming from his personal burdens seem to be lingering in the air.
When he doesn’t answer you right away, your heart starts beating rapidly. You feel uneasy. Prior to this, you had often wished that you could find a way to get inside his head. Namjoon may have been sharing a huge piece of himself with you which he claimed to have never shared with anyone else before, but there is always another part of him that you haven’t been able to read. He may have been baring his soul whenever he is with you, but his deep thoughts have always been another mystery that you have never been able to solve. You always had this fear to dig deeper, to open the deepest layer of himself to see what is hiding beneath, afraid what it might do to the illusion that you have created for yourself about the two of you. 
“Remember when I told you long ago, about how a person tends to become a reflection of another just to fit someone else’s image of the perfect lover or partner so they could stay with the people they love?” he asks. There is a woeful look in his eyes when he looks at you that makes your heart heavy.
“I remember,” you answer bitterly. You remember it perfectly well because it was the answer that he gave you when you found the courage to ask about his life that you never got to see. To find out the reason why he managed to stay in the relationship that he had with another for such a long time even when he didn’t seem to be—happy. When you openly questioned if he had truly loved her that much to stay, so much so that he could never choose you over her, the answer that he gave you had only revealed something more. “Do you still feel that way? Even after years had gone by, do you still do such a thing?” 
Again, he doesn’t give you an immediate answer. Instead he turns to look up at the sky, and that glum look in his gaze appears clearer under the bright sunlight. “I suppose I am the one to blame. I wanted to create that image in the first place to win her heart, so I could become someone who was more deserving to be with her instead of the person that I knew myself to be,” he says with a bitter chuckle. The sound does something to your heart that you feel the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him. The irony of his situation makes you ache for him. But there is nothing that you can do or say about it. 
There is a look in his eyes that is enough to stop you from doing anything else but to listen. The look of acceptance. An absolute defeat, which is something that you had never seen from him before. As if he has simply surrendered to his own fate, to the life that he had written for himself. 
“I never realised how exhausting it would be to continue living my life that way. I probably shouldn’t be complaining about it, not after so long and when I was the one to make it happen in the first place, but it feels like I’m losing myself. I have been losing myself. I’ve been feeling like I have become a mirror of my true self that I have to constantly hold up in front of her and everyone else to create the perfect image of myself that she could love, that everyone could accept,” he speaks with a voice that sounds defeated, and it causes the ache that you have been feeling for him to bury itself deeper into your heart. His small smile looks broken when he turns to look at your face again, only to say, “But I had to keep it up, right? Because I can’t bear the responsibility of breaking her out of the illusion of me that I created for her.” 
And just like that, the bitterness hits you right back in the chest. Listening to him talk about her has never been easy. Unlike then, it no longer feels painful to hear him mentioning her so lightly like this. The feeling has grown numb over the years, also added with the fact that you have been trying to avoid thinking or reminding yourself about her presence ever since he is back in your life. But it still doesn’t mean that you are now able to hear him talking about her without feeling like your heart being ripped apart. 
Hiding your clenched hands under the skirt of your sundress, you remain silent to allow him to continue. Then Namjoon surprises you when he suddenly pushes himself up to a sitting position. He gently reaches out, finding a stray strand of hair and slowly tucking it on the back of your earlobe. His gaze feels intense when he is looking at you, then he begins to speak, revealing another hidden part of his that you have always desired to see. 
“With you, everything is different. It always has been, even from back then,” he murmurs, almost to himself as a wistful look comes through his gaze, replacing the dark gloom which you previously saw in his eyes. “With you, I never have to pretend. How could I, when even from the very first day we met, you have always been able to see right through me?” 
“Is that so?” you ask him with a trembling voice. He nods just as you see glimpses of your first encounter that many years ago back on campus, when you made a single comment that must have gotten stuck in his memories as much as it did with yours, 
“As someone who is supposed to be a motivational coach for freshman students like myself, you’re not exactly looking like a bright sunshine either. I bet you didn’t even want to be here, did you?”  
You cannot help but smile as you recall his reaction. The way he gawked at your audacity at first before he bursted into laughter. By the time he was done, any tension and dark mood that followed him evaporated, and you got to see his eyes brightening up with new enthusiasm to deal with his new underclassmen of the year. And it was the same brightness that caused the instant attraction you had for him which later manifested within you for a long time. 
Just as you are brought back to that specific memory of the past, his smile is lifted as if he is recalling the same thing as well. “You were the only one who saw it. Who saw me. As if you knew that I was having a rough time, and the last thing I needed was to be in a student gathering night where I had to deal with freshmen years when all I wanted to do was to have a quiet night by myself so I could think.” He chuckles softly and continues to play with the wild strands of your hair that he manages to catch between his fingers. “But that wasn’t the only time you did it, was it? You’ve always been able to see right through me, to look past my facade that I showed everyone else around me. You make me feel like you can see what’s beneath—my head, my soul—even when I tried my damn hardest to hide it from everyone.” 
Your breath is caught when his gaze finds yours. This would be the first time in your life that you would get to see yourself through his eyes. You have no idea what compels him to talk about all of this with you. Looks like you aren’t the only one who is getting affected by his mix of drinks, after all, when he continues to spill his deepest and darkest secret, revealing to you what he has kept inside his heart this whole time.
“I know I never said anything, but—” Namjoon says, suddenly choking up, “I wonder if this was the reason why I always gravitated towards you even before you began to act so friendly towards me each time we met,” he admits with a bashful smile, drawing your own as your memory takes you back to those days, when your gullible self would always be drawn to him whenever he was around. Even before you realised that you were harbouring a secret crush on him, you would look for any reason to cross paths with him. It felt so long ago that you can barely remember all the details. It is astonishing to find that he has a better memory of your past encounters when you had always thought that you have been the one to cherish them more. 
When you have spent years believing that you were the one who had fallen first and harder, and that you were the one who felt a lot deeper between the two of you. 
“At first, I only started to pay more attention and look you up out of curiosity. I wanted to see if it had only been in my head, but the more I got to know you, I became more curious to know how you managed to do it so easily, to see through everything that everyone failed to see,” he continues while you are left speechless. Believing that you might choke or cry if you say something, you keep your mouth shut and bite your tongue, allowing him to continue opening up, baring his soul the way he never could before. 
“I soon realised that I found comfort by talking to you and spending time with you. It was always so easy for me to reveal myself to you without feeling like I was forced to, and it felt—freeing, to be able to do that for the first time.” He exhales a deep sigh, looking like he had just dumped a whole weight off his shoulders by talking about this when his smile grows. “It was addicting, the feeling that you came to me whenever I met you. All it took was for me to sit down with you for a couple of minutes and I felt like I could breathe again.” 
He releases the strands of hair that he has been playing with and let them fall against your face, then gently cups your cheek. “I never thought that it could lead to anything else. It never crossed my mind to act on that feeling, mostly because I didn’t understand what it was,” Namjoon murmurs softly while he absentmindedly starts moving his thumb on your skin. Then he lifts his gaze and smiles. “Until you suddenly came to me to confess your feelings.” 
A chuckle slips out of his lips as he recalls what had happened that night. “That was quite surprising. I think I already knew that you may have had a crush on me, but I ignored it, probably thinking that if I didn’t say anything, I wouldn’t have any expectations and I would be able to savour spending more time with you. But when I realised that your confession was meant to be your closure, that you were trying to move on, I got—” he swallows hard and furrows his eyebrows, “I panicked. I got scared. Because I knew that I was losing you.” 
When his gaze lifts up, you get to see it—the fear that he felt then, and the tears that are formed in the corner of his eyes at the thought of you leaving him for good. “I couldn’t bear it. That’s why I couldn’t stop myself from kissing your lips instead of letting you go when I should have.”
Just as he says those words, his raw emotions are shown in his eyes. It gets you all choked up to see it, to feel it, to finally realise that he feels this much just for you. Concern plagues you, as you try to imagine what kind of life that he has been living in since the day you were gone.
“Do you—still feel the same? Do you still feel like you’re putting up a facade even right in front of—” 
Her. Even until this moment, you still cannot find it in you to talk about her or to mention her that easily. But if what you have been feeling about her is envy, jealousy, and hurt—for the fact that she is the one blessed enough to live a life where he is in it—what you are feeling now is rage. Infuriated to think that she would allow him to keep living this kind of life just to be with her. 
“I think—I’ve been doing it for so long that I’ve forgotten how to live without doing it,” Namjoon says with a bitter smile on his face. “I must admit that I was beginning to doubt myself and everything that I’ve built in my life. I’d spend my nights wondering if what she has for me is anything close to love, or if she loves me for the idea that she has of myself that I had created for her instead of the real me that has been pushing its way to come to the surface.” 
Then his smile shifts into something that looks more to be relief when he looks back to the night you came across each other once again. “The day we finally met again—” he says, still with a smile on his face, “it happened right when I started questioning myself. I had no idea just how much longer I would be able to keep up with this facade. Because it has been exhausting, and it was starting to kill me inside. The more I felt like I was losing myself, the more it felt like it was sucking my entire soul.”
You blink away the tears that have been forming in your eyes while you were listening to him. A sudden burst of anger fills your chest after hearing what he has to put up with, when you have been spending your life thinking that he was living the life that he had chosen for himself and finding happiness in it. “Then why do you keep this up? Doesn’t it make you feel lonely?” 
Namjoon gives you a wry smile. “Just like I told you,” he says with a slow sigh, “you have no idea.” 
His answer only makes you frown. During all the times he has been saying those same words to you, you have only been brushing it off, telling yourself that he has only been saying those things to please you. But the look you see in his eyes as he repeats the same thing to you now tells you a different story. 
In his eyes, you see a glimpse of his broken soul. His loneliness that he may have had buried for a long time now emerging through his gaze like a deep void, pulling you towards it. Right at that moment, every last bit of doubt that you ever had about this relationship immediately shifts. Just when you had thought that all the existing bond you shared may have only come from lust, and from the desire that always burns so rapidly the moment you are in the same room, you realise now that there is something more there. 
Just like how you have always found solace in his presence, to feel like your heart and soul are awakened the moment he touches you, it turns out that he might be feeling the same thing. That your presence feeds his soul in a way that no other ever could. Perhaps that is the reason why you always gravitate towards each other, even after the universe tried to split you apart. All because you need each other. 
Because your souls crave each other’s presence to survive.
“The night we crossed paths at the mall, I felt—relieved, more than I was astounded to see you again. It felt like my questions and prayers were answered. All at once, everything came back to me the moment we spoke and then sat down together, and it made it hard for me to walk away. The feeling of freedom that I could only feel when I was with you felt like a drug, and it made me feel like I was coming back alive again,” he continues, still with his deep eyes looking into yours, letting you see the truth in them. 
“You’ve asked me why I kept coming back,” he adds with a smile while you still unable to find your own voice to speak, “I guess this is your answer. This is the reason why I keep coming back to you, and also the reason why I know that I won’t be able to let you go. Not again.” 
Just then, the tears that have been forming on the corners of your eyes begin their descent before you can do anything to stop it. A sense of closure fills your heart. All the bitterness and the dark thoughts are lifted when you return his smile as you brush away your tears. 
He pulls you to his chest and holds you there. Finding comfort in his embrace, you don’t make a move aside from wrapping your arms around him. His heart beats steadily against your cheek and you close your eyes to find calmness in it. 
Yet, even in the solitude of your shared silence and relief, your mind still refuses to remain quiet, and another question feeds your curiosity.
"Do you think we deserve to be happy?" you ask him as you gently pull away, while Namjoon falls silent. 
"That's a tough question to answer. But if I have to be honest?" he starts to answer after mulling it over for a moment. "For me? I don't think I'll ever deserve it. Happiness is not for someone like me. A sinner, whose heart has been tainted." A bitter chuckle slips out of his lips as he looks up at the sky. There is a wry smile on his face when he turns to look at you again, fading as quickly as it appears. "But the same can't be said for you. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who can make sure that you are given a life where you are constantly smiling and laughing, enjoying your life the best you possibly can instead of having dark shadows haunting your gaze every time."
You swallow the heavy need to cry when you question him, ”Is that how you see me?"
He answers you with a soft hum. “When I look at you, I see someone who is resilient, strong, hard-headed yet always knows what she wants and how to get it. You have a heart that's so big, filled with so much love to give, and you carry that heart openly in your sleeves,” he says as he slides the pad of his thumb across your cheek to wipe off your drying tears. "Deep down, your soul is still pure. Yet the shadows in your eyes show a different kind of story." 
Pursing his lips, he begins shaking his head slowly as if he is feeling regretful. “That's why I always believe that I don't deserve you. I don't think I ever will. Not when I'm the one who put that shadow in your eyes because I can't give you what you needed." 
"What if that shadow only appears because my soul is just as tainted as yours?” your question comes as a whisper. “Because I'm in love with a sinner, and it's making me a sinner too."
"Do you really think so?" he asks, and his lips lift to a smile. “Maybe you’re right. But that only means that we’re one and the same, don’t you think?”
You smile back at him. “Then maybe that's a sign that we really do deserve each other."
Namjoon softly chuckles. “Maybe,” he hums as he pulls you back to his chest and presses his lips on the top of your head. You feel him closing his eyes as he sighs, and his voice is gentle when he whispers to you, "Yes, perhaps you're right. We do belong together.“
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If I must compare your life into day and night, then she would be the one to fill your bright days, always shining under the sun, while I would be the one to reside in your long nights.  Before I received the letter you wrote me, before I finally got those three little words that meant more than my entire world coming from you, I spent my time living with you while wallowing in self-doubt.  The world that you had inside your mind will forever be a mystery that I can never solve.  Yet you have always been honest with me. Always so open even when you had to tell me about all the painful truth. Letting me know that you no longer have anything left that you could offer or promise me except for the small piece of soul that you have been brave enough to show me. I have learned, after many years, not to be greedy when it comes to you. To take all that I could get and have only what I deserved to gain, just as long as I could be with you.  Even if I must remain in the dark. Even if I must remain living as a part of your night.  But as time passes, it becomes harder not to listen to what my heart desires. To not want more.  Because I will always want more. Even if I will never be able to put those silly wishes into words.
Once you are no longer counting the days, life simply continues and time seems to easily blur together. Before you realise it, nearly a year has gone by, and he still remains by your side. Yet time doesn’t seem to matter anymore as both of you continue to live your lives together in your small little world, built and secured safely within the walls of your small home. 
With him being a part of it, this place has become your safe haven. 
A place where you are separated from the outside world, protected from the reality that you have chosen not to take notice when you are together with him. The place that had once felt desolated and cold has now become a place of solitude, a place where you can live comfortably in the safety of his arms without having to worry about the future that lies ahead of you. 
It helps you forget the fact that he has another life to come back to—something that you choose to not think about on the nights that he wasn’t spending with you—and helps you put everything about the past far, far away from your thoughts so you can relish the joy of the present. 
Until tonight, when Namjoon suddenly brings it up again.
You are lying in your bed, with one of his arms laid under your neck and your head resting on his shoulder. This is something that the two of you would do whenever sleep eludes you at night, and you would fall into a comfortable silence while enjoying each other’s presence.
He has his eyes looking far over your head. In his silence, his gaze seems to settle on something that he sees in the distance as it lingers out the window. Looking over your shoulder, all you can see out there is nothing but the dark, night sky. But it seems that glimpses of the past are visiting him through the partly opened curtains when he suddenly mutters,
“You never asked me to leave her.” 
You turn to look at him. “What?”
For a moment, he says nothing else, though he still has a faraway look in his eyes as if he is still looking far back into the past. “Never once did you try to break us apart. And we weren’t married then, so it would’ve been easy for you to simply ask me to walk away.” Namjoon stops talking to close his eyes, briefly, then he looks down at your face when he opens those beautiful eyes again. He wears a smile on his face, one that is filled with curiosity and something else that is kin to guilt, when he asks you, “Why was that? Why didn’t you ever ask me for it?” 
Gnawing at your lips, you take a moment to consider your answer. You have no idea what to say or how to respond to his question, even if you do get what he is trying to say. You just never expected that he would question you about it after so long has passed since then. 
Closing your eyes, you start thinking about the past. Because you have wondered about it. The words had always been there, threatening to slip out of you each time you looked into his eyes and your chest was filled with dread for knowing that he wasn’t truly yours. But you always chose to bite your tongue, refusing to place this one simple truth out into the universe despite feeling the deep ache in your heart which was filled with longing and the desire to be with him. It wasn’t easy to continue lying to yourself, to hold back the way you did. And yet you still chose to do it, only because you had always known that asking that much of him would be too much, no matter how desperately your heart desired it to happen. 
For him to be asking about this now only forces you to recount everything—about your true desire that you had to bury deep inside, your undying wish, and the constant battle you had with yourself for denying your feelings.
Avoiding his gaze, you cannot help but wonder, “Did you want me to beg you to leave her?” 
His eyes are downcast when you look at him again. A deep, resounding sigh comes from him as he slowly answers, “I’m not sure about wanting it. But I can say that I expected that it would happen at some point. That you would ask me to make a choice, and for me to choose you over her. I guess”—he chuckles softly—”it was quite surprising that it was never brought up. I spent so many times envisioning every possible scenario of when we would be having that talk. In a way, I think I was preparing myself to deal with it should you ever bring it up and start demanding it, but it never happened.” 
His confession catches you off guard, and you have no idea what to think of this. Suddenly filled with a mix of emotions, you say nothing to him until he looks at you and asks you again, “Have you ever thought about it? About us being together?” 
You take a moment to mull over your answer before saying anything. The memory of having to refrain yourself from expressing what you desired the most seems to have been ingrained in you. You still remember everything—what it was like to be in that position, unable to be honest with your own heart, and it causes an immediate reaction coming from you as you once again find yourself holding back from admitting your feelings. 
But once you look into his eyes, you realise that things between you feel much different now compared to how it was back then. And after years have passed, you have grown to become a completely different person. Unlike then, you feel entitled enough to feel greedy. Deep down, you feel that you are allowed to be, and you have your own reasons to feel this way. 
Only because you refuse to believe that the universe has no reason for allowing you to meet each other again after so long. And you refuse to accept that you have crossed paths merely by chance after many years have passed only for you to part ways again the way you did years ago.
Sighing deeply, you find the courage to speak, seizing the chance to be honest with yourself, and to him. “Every single time,” you answer softly. And just like that, you feel as if the weight that you have been carrying is lifted, and you feel even lighter as you continue to open up your heart. “Even when I never said a thing, I wished for it. I prayed for it every single night when I had to say goodbye and watch you go back to her. I spent all the nights I had to sleep alone in my bed begging to the universe that you would be mine forever.” 
The more he listens to your confession, the deeper the crease between his eyebrows grows. “Why have you never said anything?” he asks you, sounding baffled as he listens to all of this for the first time, while you cannot help but respond with a bitter chuckle. 
“It’s not like I never wanted to ask or even beg for you to make it happen,” you admit to him with a shrug, then you tilt your head up, looking at him straight in the eyes to question him, “but what right did I have to ask that much from you?” 
When you already had your whole life planned which didn’t involve me becoming a part of it—are the words left unspoken, when it suddenly becomes too painful to recount the events from the past, just before the voice of your conscience speaks to you once more to say,
What right do I have to ask for it now?
You instantly bite your lips, hating how the voice of reason always returns to put you back in your place. Just like how it often did the same to you back then. In the past, you had always chosen to listen to that voice, to help you become the reasonable one between the two of you by refusing to be greedy and only taking what you could get from him. Now, you quickly brush it off, pushing it away so you can ignore it, and choosing to listen to your heart instead. Because not everyone gets a second chance the way you do now.
“You said so yourself, remember? You talked about how our stories had been written differently, that you have had your story plotted, written, with a proper ending to your story planned.” You smile bitterly when the ache in your chest returns, bringing back all the emotions that you had constantly felt whenever his words would come to haunt you. As if reminding you that you had no place in his life after everything was done. 
“I was young and dumb, and I didn’t exactly understand what you were saying then, but I knew that it wasn’t our happy ending that had been written for you. I think—” Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to look into the state of mind that you had back then, understanding yourself better now to finally comprehend the past choices you made and admitting it loudly, “I think, once I got that thought embedded into my mind, I just pushed away everything that I desired the most from you and simply took what I could get, while all I could do was to wait and prepare myself for when our time together would finally be up.” 
Namjoon falls silent yet again as he takes in your words. It makes you feel a bit silly now that you put your past thoughts into words. But just like you said, you were too young and dumb to know what would have been the right thing for you to do and how to express your feelings, something that you had never been capable of doing.
But not being able to formulate your feelings into words had not only been your true reason to keep quiet about what you wanted. 
Asking him to make such a big decision would require you to have hopes. The kind of hope that you could never allow yourself to have. Not in the position you were in back then. Even if you ever had the courage to be honest about what you wanted, even if you tried to do it without allowing your hope to bloom, you still knew that it would eventually come either way. 
You know then how it would have tainted everything once you started demanding more, that it would have ruined any blissful moments that you were having with him. And it would certainly have only left you with more bitter memories than the good ones that you still keep with you to this day.  
“How about now?” he gently asks you after a moment has passed. “What do you wish for now? What do you pray at night?” 
With just one look into his eyes and by listening to the tender voice that he gives you, any resolution that you have had about not wanting to act as recklessly as you did then or to give in to your heart’s desire dwindles. All of your defences that you have put up to keep you from getting hurt again this time start to wane. 
This is your chance…
You can almost hear your own heart speaking to you, encouraging you to be honest—not only to yourself, but also for him to be able to see your true desire. The deep, warm look that you find in his gaze feels just as encouraging, allowing you to put your feelings into words. 
“I pray—” you begin to speak without looking away from him, “that if this is just a dream, then I don’t ever want to wake up. I just want to stay here with you, just like this, where nothing else in the world matters but us.” 
You stop for a brief moment, biting your lips once you realise that you have finally told him everything that you have been keeping inside. 
There is no turning back now that the truth is out. There are only two kinds of reactions that you can get from him after hearing your confession. Either he stays, or he decides that you both want different things and he will no longer want to have anything to do with you. 
This thought had been the reason why you were wary about being honest with him. Just like him, you had thought of any possible scenario that might have happened once you shared with him what you truly want from him, to actually ask him to choose you instead of the life that had been planned for him. And each time, you had pictured him choosing the last option, and you had always seen yourself accepting it, knowing that it would be the only thing that you would ever deserve to get from him.
Because you don’t deserve to have him sacrificing his entire life for you. 
Tonight, however, you find some resolve growing within you when you look into his eyes. This time, you feel like you are allowed to hope. You are allowed to demand more from him, and you are allowed to fight your hardest until you can finally get what you have always desired. 
“I want to be with you. I want to be the only one that you hold at night, the one lying down beside you like this to listen to your voice as you talk about your day. I want to watch you walk out the door in the morning without feeling worried or scared that it will be the last time I’ll ever see you again, and I want to be able to go about with my day feeling optimistic as I plan how I’m going to be spending my night with you instead of wondering whether or not you’ll be coming to visit.” 
Once the words continue to slip through your lips, it feels as if there is a dam within you that is breaking down. You didn’t expect to become so emotional about this, but it feels freeing to be saying all of this out loud, that your tears come flowing down your cheeks once relief takes over you. 
“I want us to be like any other couple, to go on dates, picnics, to have afternoon walks in the park, maybe go on a trip far, far away for a lengthy of time,” you continue with bitter laughter slipping out of your lips as you recall your picnic date. The picnic date which revealed a whole lot more that you could ever handle. 
A wave of melancholy floods through you when you remember everything that went through your mind that day. Having him opening up to you, allowing you to hear his deep and dark thoughts about his relationship with his wife had given you a sense of reassurance. Yet it lasted only for a short period of time. As that day had brought to light a myriad of other things that you still have to deal with to this day.
The insecurity that you felt from being with him in the open was a feeling that has not been so easy for you to shake off. You remember feeling inferior while being surrounded by all those people. Those who were lucky enough to be with their loved ones without having any worries. The feeling of jealousy and the desire to have what they had has helped open your eyes to see everything that was wrong about your relationship. 
It has made you realise now more than ever just how sheltered he has made you feel by being with him. It has brought back all the past memories that you have overlooked each time you reminisced the past, to remind you everything that you had to endure just to be with him. Like how you had to watch him attending campus events with her by his side, while all you could do was to watch them from afar and wait until the moment he could return to you once the day was over. Sneaking around your friends just to be able to steal a few hours within the day to see him. The lunch dates that had to be cut short each time any of his friends or yours would suddenly appear to catch the sight of you while you were together. 
Every night, you would always be haunted by how he made you feel. The sorrow you feel for being hidden like a dirty little secret. Always waiting on the sidelines until it was your turn to come out into the light.  
“I want to be able to hold you forever, not only until we reach an expiration date for whatever it is that we have now, but until the day I breathe my last breath. I want to be able to scream to the whole world how much”—your voice gets caught in hour throat before you try to say it out loud—“how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you. I want to show everyone that you are mine. And I want us to be able to be together under the sun, holding each other’s hands in front of everyone who gets to hear about our story, instead of hiding in the shadows the way we have been.” 
Namjoon moves his hand just as you speak, gently pressing his palm on your cheek as he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. “Is that what you truly want?” he whispers. His voice comes out so soft that you nearly miss the way it trembles. But it is the look you see in his eyes that gets you. The look that feels so intense that you can feel it in your chest. 
“Yes, that’s what I want.” 
Without another word, he pulls you against his chest and leans down to kiss you. He wastes no time dipping his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss while taking the rest of your words and your breath away. Still high with emotions, you feel like you are melting under his touch, allowing him to take over your body and soul completely as he turns you over until you are lying beneath him. 
You have no idea what is going through his head right now. But with the way he is kissing you, touching you, and easily covering your body with his as if your bodies have been moulded to be the perfect fit, none of it seems to matter anymore. Placing your truth out there has felt so heavy but relieving at the same time, and all you need now is to feel him. To have him mend your heart after opening it wide for him to see what is hidden deep inside. 
As he makes sweet love to you, tenderly and slowly, you finally get to understand the real reason why you had never been able to completely move on from him. For so long, you had simply thought that it was all because you had not been truly healed from your broken heart. That your heart had been so fractured that you were unable to love anyone else the same way you have always felt so deeply for him. 
But he makes you see the truth when he easily brings to you to the brink of your pleasure through each slow thrust, each deep kiss, and with every gentle touch he gives you, making you feel all the things that no other person had ever been able to make you feel. It is all because of his sweet lovemaking, when he makes you feel alive and complete. 
And because when his eyes find you, he isn’t simply looking at you. He sees you. Sometimes unabashedly undresses you with it, other times it feels like he is making you a promise without saying a single word. A single gaze with different meanings that you can hold on to.
And that gaze is what you find in his eyes when you open your eyes in your blissful moment of climax and contentment. Through his eyes, you find his silent promise, to see the words that he is unable to voice out loud. Looking deep into his eyes, you also get to feel his love. You can feel it caressing your entire body and soul as he embraces his pleasure, as he bares his soul for you to share with you everything that he has been hiding within his own heart.
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I never asked much from you, except for your heart and to ask you to love me back. To appreciate my existence instead of denying my being. To help make me feel less invisible even when you were not here with me.  Even then, there were still some words that I kept wishing to hear from you. Words that seemed impossible to be spoken, because no matter how many promises you had given and kept for me, I had always known that there was one promise that you had given and one that you would never be able to break.  The promise that you gave her. 
“I’m leaving her.” 
Back then, many years ago, you dreamt of moments like this, to hear him say those words to you. Whenever you would look back in the past, you would often wonder what would have happened if you ever had any courage to ask him to say something like this. 
It feels too overwhelming to accept that you are not just imagining things. That he had truly just said those words to you, completely unprompted, after weeks have passed since the night you spilled your secret wish and talked about what you truly wanted from him. 
What your heart still desires from then and to this day.
Shaking your head, you try to deny that this is happening. You have to. Because you can already feel your silly little hope blooming in your chest, thinking that he truly meant what he just said. “You can’t mean that,” you say to him with a wry smile, still refusing to believe him. Yet when his determined gaze doesn’t seem to waver, it tugs you out of your denial.  
“But I do. I mean every word I said,” Namjoon says to you almost pleadingly, and you can feel your resolve cracking under the firm tone of his voice. You try to avoid his gaze so you can remain in denial, yet he refuses to let you ignore him as he walks over to you in his fast and long strides until he is standing right in front of you. Taking your hands in his, he forces you to look at him in the eyes when he says, “I want to.”
The breath that you take trembles, and it gets caught in your chest for the fear that you might break. Seeing this, Namjoon tightens his grip on your hands to get you to focus on his words before you start panicking. “Remember when we talked about what you truly wanted? When you finally shared with me everything that you’ve never been able to ask from me? Well, this is me finally being honest with what I want. This is what I’ve always wanted but never could admit,” he says, almost rushing in his words as if he has been keeping it inside for too long. 
“Do you mean it? Do you really mean this?” you start questioning him once you are able to find your voice again. “You told me—” you choke out a sob, “you said that you couldn’t promise me anything when you already made one promise to another.” Just when you say those words, his words from many years ago return to your thoughts, echoing inside your head the way it always does whenever you reminisce that time in the past where he unintentionally put your wishes to rest, 
“Maybe if things had been different. If she had been the one to say it first that it was over between us and I could erase everything that I had given her—every promise, the silly vow we made with each other, everything we planned—then I would have been able to give you more…” 
Namjoon visibly winces as he is reminded of those same words that he gave you then. When he closes his eyes, you can tell that he finally understands the real reason why you could never find any courage to tell him how much you wanted to be with him, or to even demand that he would give up everything that he had built for you. His face crumbles with remorse when he opens his eyes again and sees the look on your face. Reality seems to dawn on him after hearing your words, and he pulls you into his arms just before a tear drops from your eyes. 
Closing his eyes, he takes a long, deep breath and then exhales it slowly. “I admit that I was…nothing more but a coward and a complete fool back then. I had so many opportunities to make it right by you, to make a choice, but I was too afraid to walk away and face the consequences if I ever decided to take back my words. I thought we still had time. I thought I still had more time, but then—” 
You left. 
You close your eyes and bury your face in his chest, hoping that you can bury all the memories from the day when you decided that you had enough. It wasn’t because of your pride that you chose to walk away from his life, nor it was for your own dignity. You walked because of your own selfish reasons, only because you could no longer take the pain of being kept in the shadows and having to watch him live another life, loving another woman, and building an entirely different life when you were building your entire world around him. 
“After you were gone, I kept regretting my choices. I regretted the fact that I couldn’t be honest with myself and allowed myself to be complacent on what we had until everything fell apart, and I lost you for good,” he confesses to you with his voice coming out almost to a whisper. “I spent my entire life regretting the fact that I had to lose you because of my indecisiveness,” he continues, while tears continue to flow down your cheeks as you take in this revelation. 
Namjoon pulls away with a shuddering exhale of breath to look at you. “But it’s different now. It has to be. I knew it ever since we crossed paths again, because it happened just when I finally gave up on hope. That’s why I know that I can do it this time. That’s why I have to do this. I can’t lose you again.”  
He brings his hands up and cups them on your face, allowing you to see the deep love in his eyes, the sincerity and truth that you desperately seek just so you can trust his words.
So you can allow yourself to have hope. 
Your shoulders fall in relief when you can see them, his emotions that are plainly written in his deep gaze, and you take it all in as he leans down, capturing your lips in his. Your eyes flutter to close as you embrace this warm feeling that he is bringing into your heart. 
“I also have my own regrets,” you say to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I regretted that I chose not to say anything even when the truth was that I never wanted to let you go. Never again. It hurt too much when I did then. It’ll hurt more if I have to go through it again.”
As you look into his eyes, and just after you admit this feeling for him, more questions begin to arise. They come flooding your thoughts just as rapidly as the rise of hope you feel blooming in your chest.
Is this how your story with him going to end this time? With a happy ending, where you are going to be walking on the same path with him again?
Before you can find the answer, Namjoon lifts you up and carries you back to your bedroom. Like always, the moment you are in his arms again, all rational thoughts are gone out the window, leaving only wanton needs filling your mind. He lays you down on your bed and lowers himself above you, pressing you down with the length of his body. Your body welcomes him as he settles between your legs, making you acutely aware of the hard lines of his cock pressing down on you. 
It might have been the fact that your emotions are running wild within you that your body feels so sensitive and it reacts instantly to his touch. It makes you hyperaware of everything that is happening around you and all that you are feeling from him. The heat of his body, his rapid heartbeat, and the rush that comes building within you from his gentle touch. 
As Namjoon presses his weight down on you, your hips rise to meet him. The moment your mouths meet each other in a deep kiss, your body begins to move, rocking and grinding against his covered hard-on that suddenly feels to be carrying more weight. 
“I…need you,” you find yourself pleading as you rock your hips against him, rubbing your covered heat against his length. Your carnal need to feel his touch overpowers you so intensely that you fail to tell him that you are feeling this need because you want this to be real. You want him to show you what words would never be able to convey. 
But there is no need for you to say it out loud, when he gets it. When the look he is giving you tells you that this is exactly what he needs as well. A groan slips out of his mouth just before he pushes himself up and gets to work. In your desperate need to touch each other, both of you move in haste, almost ripping your clothes apart in the rush to get yourselves bare. 
Namjoon wastes no time once every piece of clothing is gone, pressing down on you and devouring your lips until you are left breathless, and your mind is silent. Even without a word, he is telling you everything that he is unable to give you through the kiss. Giving you everything that he wants to say to you by showing it through his actions. 
His kiss doesn’t relent as he grabs your hips, holding you in place while he settles right between your parted legs. Every move he makes is so gentle. He moves with so much grace and tenderness that you feel at ease, even when your heartbeat is racing so rapidly and your body is tense as you anticipate his pure loving. 
Lifting your legs up to spread them wider, he pulls away from the kiss and slowly begins crawling his way down your body. You barely have your eyes fluttering close when you feel his hot mouth capturing your nipple, his wet tongue circling around it once, twice, before he moves to the other and gives it the same treatment. With his tenderness, he draws a series of soft moans from your lips, and then he continues his journey down the rest of your body.
“I feel like I want to take my time with you. Like there is really no need for us to rush,” Namjoon says with a deep, gentle voice, making his intention clear without having to say the words out loud, though you can still clearly hear the need in his calming words. 
Your eyes are fluttering close yet again as he grows closer and closer to the source of your heat. Your hips are lifted when you feel his lips brushing against your mound, then you react with a moan as you feel his tongue pressing down between your hot folds.
Using his hands on your hips, he carefully tilts your body up, just slightly off the bed so he can dive straight in and bury his head between your legs. Grasping the sheets with both of your hands, you lift your hips and start moving, rocking gently into his mouth to chase away the pulses within. It seems to urge him on, when he lets go of all the tenderness as he licks at your folds, before finding your clit and clamping his mouth hard around it.
“Namjoon—!” A sharp cry comes out of you as he moves his tongue in circles, tasting around your tender bud and lapping at your arousal.
You run your hands through his hair, almost pressing him deeper into you as he works his mouth and tongue to draw out your essence. But there is a change here in the way he is devouring you. His hunger feels subtle, replaced by something else that feels more sensual and luscious as he takes what he wants gently instead of sucking you hard and fast the way he usually would. 
Namjoon remains there for a while longer, savouring your taste and getting lost in giving you pleasure. He keeps going, following the sounds that you are making and your reactions to guide his next movements. A flutter arises from within your tight walls, drawing a low moan from him when he can feel it too. His hand tightens on you as your legs quiver against his head, holding you down as you start thrusting against his mouth to chase your release. Keeping you down with one hand, he quickly moves his other hand up. As his mouth moves to capture your clit, his fingers replace his sinful lips, parting your folds and slipping inside, spreading you open before stroking them into your pulsing walls. 
“Oh, fuck—!” you cry out as your body rises at the snap of your tight coil, and a rush of pleasure takes flight within you, sending you to your blissful release. 
Keeping one hand touching gently at your pussy, Namjoon pulls his mouth away and starts climbing his way back up. Hot, wet kisses trail up your stomach, then your breasts, stopping briefly to tease around your nipples while his hands trail up the sides of your body to your breasts, before he comes up to kiss you hard on your lips. 
“I need to be inside you,” he murmurs against your lips, drawing a soft whimper from you when you want the exact same thing. 
He shifts on the bed, and you can already feel the heat and weight of his cock as it falls against your center. Your legs are spread around him, almost like your body has been programmed to welcome him inside you. Lowering himself on you, Namjoon presses into you gently, drawing out this moment for as long as he likes it despite the burning need that is practically vibrating throughout his entire body. But things quickly switch up when he slowly slides inside you, taking his time burying his length inside your warmth.
You moan at the pleasure he brings you and slowly buck your hips against his body as you wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly just when he continues moving. With his hands on your hips, he thrusts into you again, drawing the sound of your cry of pleasure. And he keeps at it, moving in and out of you with steady and firm thrusts, filling you up completely. Deep groans keep coming out of his lips at the way your pussy is wrapped around him in a claiming grip. 
As the pleasure heightens, both of your bodies tremble together. His jaw seems tight, a clear evidence that he is trying his damn hardest to hold back and make it last. But just like how you are quickly overcome with the increasing pleasure, you can tell that he is slowly getting taken over by his own pleasure. Digging your nails into his skin, you rock your hips to meet each of his thrusts, moaning and arching your back as you give in to the surging rush you feel from his intense fucking.
“Keep going, baby. I need…more,” you start begging him when you are reaching so close, the coil in your stomach tightening when you are teetering on the edge, already at the brink of your release.
At your words, he responds to you with a firm thrust. One that comes so powerful that it sends your body rising from the bed and shaking at the wave of bliss that comes with it. You take a sharp inhale of breath and hold onto him tighter, anticipating the climax that you are so ready to embrace, only to have him come to a halt. 
“Keep holding onto me, baby,” he says with a deep groan as you open your eyes to look at him. 
Before you can say a thing, he slides his arm around your waist and starts pulling you up with him as he sits back on his haunches. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to his chest and helps you straddle his lap while keeping his cock buried deep inside you. Once you are settled on his lap, his cock seems to penetrate into you deeper, pushing into your depth and making you feel completely full. 
“Fuck—so deep!” 
A low chuckle comes out of him. As if he enjoys hearing this coming from you and taking it as a compliment. With his arms tightening around you, Namjoon begins to move again, rocking gently beneath you as he thrusts his cock deep inside your pussy, starting slow at first and steadily picking up its pace once your body is adjusted to him in this new position. 
The pressure keeps building, and in its rise, your body reacts to every movement, every action, meeting each of his thrusts with your own rocking as you slide up and down his cock to ride the pleasure. 
“That’s it. Ride me, baby,” he says, coaxing you to keep moving. Using your arms on his shoulders as leverage, you rock faster against him, riding the high that comes as he fucks you from beneath and whimpering to each delightful rush that you feel as your walls brush along the length of him. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. You feel so perfect for me.” 
His voice sounds strained with his undying desire, and once you feel his entire body shudder beneath you, you know that things are about to go intense. “I can’t hold back this time, baby,” he groans, drawing a gasp out of you as he pounds into you with a powerful thrust. 
“Then don’t. Fuck me, baby. I need it, I need to feel you, please.” 
He holds you tighter as he kicks things up to a notch and starts fucking you with all of his worth, as he pours all of his emotions into everything that he is giving you. As you clutch around him tightly, his thrusts keep getting faster and desperate, growing more erratic with his deep passion that seems to overflow. 
Sliding his hand up your back, Namjoon takes a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck to him. His mouth finds your skin and he begins trailing hot kisses from your collarbone to your neck, finding his way up to kiss your lips. With his kiss, he swallows the sound of your moans as he steadily rocks in and out of you, distracting you from the touch of his hands as he rubs them all over your body. His mouth moves towards your lobe and comes lower, pressing against your sensitive spot which draws a shiver through your body. 
“Tell me that you’re mine. That you’ve always been mine,” Namjoon pleads with you with ragged breaths, tugging firmly at your heartstrings when you can feel the desperation in his words.
“I’m yours”—you gasp as he thrusts back inside you so deep you can feel it all over your body—“I’ve always been yours, and I always will be.” 
Once again, his entire body shudders against you. Though you can easily tell that he is responding to you with a whole different reason this time. As if your words are the ones that are snapping him out of his final restraint. You use the chance to rock back against him, pressing down as he pushes up, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your depth until you are shaking on top of him. 
As your bodies move together in a steady rhythm, he lowers his hands down your waist and guides you to move. “Keep riding me that way, baby. That’s it, cum around my cock,” he grunts, moaning in between his words with the pleasure you are bringing into his body. “Let me see you cum.” 
His words and his touch guide you as you move above him, chasing your high. You cry out as he slams hard into you. Your head falls back, loving how perfectly his cock is stretching your walls. The pressure keeps growing more intense. You can feel your orgasm building inside you as he continues thrusting into you hard and fast. The moment the first wave of your climax hits, your body arches into him, inadvertently rubbing your clit against his skin and the line of coarse hair under his navel, and it sets you off instantly. 
You are coming so hard that it feels like you are about to explode. Your muscles spasm around his cock, against his body, and the feeling surges through your whole body that you can feel the burning heat rushing everywhere. The sounds you are making seem foreign to your own ears as you cry out in your climax. The high-pitched moans that are followed by the sound of your ragged breaths seem to linger while you are riding your orgasm until everything starts to wane. 
The moment everything stops and you sag into his chest, you can feel that he is still hard inside you. Soft kisses bring you back to him, allowing you to feel the rock-hard shaft that is still embedded within you. Your pussy contracts intensely around him as he slowly lifts you up from his lap, pulling out his cock from your depth. Your head is still spinning as Namjoon lays you back down on the bed, barely recovering from your intense bliss, and he helps clear your foggy brain by kissing your lips gently, coaxing you to open your eyes.
“Turn around. I need to get deeper inside you,” he says, his voice sounding deep and raspy, strained with his need as he gently grabs your hips to guide you into position. “Get on your hands and knees for me, baby.” 
Your body trembles at his voice and command. You can feel that he is being weighed down with his pent-up desire—and perhaps the exact same emotions that you are feeling now—and it puts you into action as you slowly turn around, giving your back to him.
Namjoon moves to take his place behind you, and you start grinding your ass to him as you feel him carefully shifting closer, and you can feel the heat of his body pressing against your skin. His hands come down to grab your hips, holding you still as he presses his body against your back. And then you feel him, the object of his desire, his cock that is still rock solid and still wet from your release as it comes pressing against your behind. 
He slides one hand between your legs, finding your folds with the tips of his fingers. You let out a gasp as he presses his fingers against your clit. With only his tender touch, your body erupts and you can barely hold back from falling forward. 
“Please”—you gasp breathlessly—“I can’t take it anymore. I’m so close.” 
You can feel him shifting behind you, and he gently parts your nether lips while he positions his cock at your pussy. You feel a nudge, and you can already feel the head of his cock penetrating through your entrance, spreading your walls for him once again and making them pulse around his cock as he slowly slides his cock inside of you. 
A moan comes out of your lips at the intense pleasure that you feel as he enters you, and the sound that you are making quickly intensifies when he wastes no time and begins rocking, moving in and out of you with ease despite the intense flutter of your walls around him. 
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good around me,” Namjoon moans deeply as he fills you up, inch by inch, making you arch your back when he reaches your depth. A small whimper comes out of you as you quickly readjust to his size. Your body has grown so used to his presence, and it should have been easy for your bodies to join together if not for the fact that you are still too sensitive after your previous climax. It takes a while before your muscles stop fighting against him, and he can finally start moving with more ease. 
Once Namjoon finds his rhythm, he moves his hands from your hips, moving them underneath you until he finds your breasts. He cups each one with his palms as he fucks you from behind. His warm palms are pressing and kneading at your soft flesh while his deft fingertips are moving to play with your nipples, rubbing at them and pinching harder while he picks up speed. 
It makes you feel breathless when the pleasure feels so intense. Each hard thrust that he gives you makes you feel as if you are about to shatter into pieces beneath him, yet his touch brings you back together again each time. The only thing you can do is close your eyes and bury your fingers deeper into the sheets as you enjoy every second, every thrust, and the delectable way his body is moving against you. 
“Fuck me harder, baby,” you start begging him when the pleasure inside you increases, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your climax. So close, but you need more to get there. “Please, Namjoon…!” 
After giving your breasts one last squeeze, Namjoon moves one of his hands back down to your hips, grabbing your flesh while he continues pounding into you from behind. He bends down, pressing his chest into your back when he whispers, “You’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel it, baby. You’re gripping me so tightly.” He groans as he speaks, overcome with his own pleasure as he keeps fucking you to your blissful end. 
“Yes,” you cry out between your ragged breaths. “Please. I’m almost there.” 
Instead of giving you what you want right away, he moves his other hand upward and wraps his palm around your throat. He gives a light squeeze, not enough to cut off your breath or to choke you, but enough to give tension which only intensifies the sensation you are feeling running through your body.
“Cum for me, baby,” he says with a firm voice, adding the pressure around your throat as he thrusts deeply into your pussy. “Give it to me one more time.”
His words and his rough handling of your body become the perfect spell to finally push you over the edge. Your orgasm builds inside you, increasing so intensely that your entire body shakes against him. And he keeps thrusting, pounding into you hard and fast, hitting all the right spots until you come to your final climax. 
Your pussy clenches around him as the waves of your orgasm take you over, ripping through your body until you cry out in your release. It feels so intense that it pushes him towards his own edge. Namjoon comes into a climax with his face buried in the crook of your neck, his mouth comes pressing down on you as he bites a small part of your skin.
Every sound, every sensation blurs together in your bliss. Even the gentle rocking that he still keeps up as he slowly rides out his orgasm feels like it is happening outside of your body. Once everything wanes, neither of you makes a move to separate, and you take the moment to relish the remaining spasms of your climax that are growing numb. 
“—love you.” 
His gentle voice breaks through the blissful fog that you are currently being stuck in. Every sound comes fading in and out as they all return to you and his voice seems so distant that you nearly miss it at first. But then he presses his lips on your skin, finding your pulse, and his voice clears out the moment he speaks again. 
“I love you. I always have.” 
Thinking back, there had never been a moment where he ever spilled his entire heart like this. Not until the letter that he wrote for you, where he slipped those three magical words between the words that he wrote to get you to see the world that was built around him through his eyes. 
Tears threaten to fall, and your eyes become blurry once again. Only this time, it isn’t the intense rush of pleasure that is blinding you, but the tears that are pooling from underneath your eyelids. 
“I love you too,” you find yourself saying to him before a sob breaks through. Giving him the three exact words that you never got to say to him back all those years ago. “I loved you with everything that I have back then, and I still love you the same now.” 
Once again, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His chest rumbles against your back when he releases a soft groan. Just when you start feeling content in his embrace, he carefully pulls out and untangles himself from you so he can flip you over. 
Now lying on your back, you get a clear view of his face. His eyes are looking at you with an intense gaze, his lips are swollen from kissing you, and his cheeks are still flushed after his climax. 
“Say it again,” Namjoon says with a gentle voice, the complete opposite of the firm touch that he is giving you as he takes your hands and entwines your fingers with his. “Say those words to me again.” 
“I love you,” you whisper, drawing a soft sigh out of him. He lowers himself down, once again covering your body with his. You can feel his heartbeat racing in his chest as your bodies are pressed together, his lips hovering so close to your lips that you can feel his sharp inhale of breath and his slow exhale when he says, 
“Again. I need to hear it.” 
“I love you,” you gasp softly, though the sound fades when he gently kisses you. 
“Again. Say it,” he murmurs against your lips, and when you answer him, your voice comes out louder, firmer, when you give him what he wants. 
“I love you.” 
You have heard of stories about meeting the perfect match for your soul, something that may only happen to those who are lucky enough in life to experience it. The once-in-a-lifetime occurrence where you fall deeply for someone and have the entire course of your life changing. 
As you revel in his presence, you realize that this is it for you. That he is your person. The one that your soul recognises as its perfect pair. It feels terrifying to accept this rather than it is freeing. Because right at that moment, you instantly know that you will never be able to love anyone else again the same way you do him. You will never find the same kind of love, one that is devouring you from the inside, no matter how hard you would look for it.
And it terrifies you. 
Ever since the beginning, you have been going through this with him by facing it moments by moments, always with one feet ready to turn towards the exit, always prepared to face it once it ends. Now that he is offering you a future together, it scares you deeply that the only thing you can do is to hold him tightly, afraid that your fragile hope would shatter if you ever let go. 
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I love you. I am writing it here, plain and clear just as how I feel it. Like how you gave me these same words in your old letter. The same letter that helped me open my eyes to see the truth between us. I love you. Those three words would never be enough to show how deeply I feel for you.  Just how simple words would never be able to explain the reason why I have to walk away.  If only our story had been written differently, maybe we could have the ending that we have always wanted.  The perfect ending. An ending where you and I are together as one, forever, without being haunted by fear nor concern. Without having to wonder about what the world would think of us and forever be tainted with the repercussions of our sins.  I will forever love you. That part of my truth will remain unchanged. Even if everything has changed between us.
Your hand trembles as you finish writing the last part of the letter that you are planning to send him. 
It seems ironic to end everything through a letter. Only because it seems to you as if everything is coming to a full circle, when he was the one who sent you the letter which ended everything between you in the past, and now you are the one to pull the brakes with your words. 
In truth, you never wanted this to end. Never once had you ever thought that you would decide to once again walk out of his life just when there was something to hope for. But this has to end. This time, however, you have the right reasons to call things off instead of simply trying to keep what small part of your dignity left intact after you had sacrificed your entire heart and soul just to love him. 
Just like how you thanked the entire universe to allow your paths to cross each other’s once again so you could feel his love for one last time, you are now thanking the same universe for allowing you to see the light. To see the truth that neither of you had been willing to see.
You cannot remember how you found yourself strolling through the mall that night. It was six months ago, merely a couple of months after you began planning your escape, to be together with Namjoon after he promised you the rest of his forever. 
But you remember exactly what you found, and how it forced you to open your eyes and face the reality that you had wistfully ignored. As if fate had intentionally taken you there that night to show you what you needed to see. 
The pull that Namjoon has over you has always been—intense. Irrevocable. In a way that you could walk into a room and sense his presence before you could ever see him. That had been the reason why you managed to find him that night despite never knowing that he would be there. As you walked through the hall leading to the cafe which you regularly visited after working hours, and there he was, completely oblivious to your presence while he was dining in one of the restaurants nearby. 
And he was not alone. 
In your head, you have had the perfect portrayal of what kind of life that he has with the woman that he married, formed through everything that he had once shared with you. But that image went down the drain after what you saw that night. 
You had thought that she was the light in his life. The one person who has claimed the special place in his life, to be right by his side. 
But you were wrong this whole time. Neither you nor her had ever been his light, nor had you ever deserved to claim that special place in his heart, when it had already been reserved for someone else. Someone who was more deserving. 
And you only realised it then, when you saw him there with his baby daughter sitting on his lap. As you watched him tending to her needs with full of care while watching her lovingly as the small child blabbered silly nonsense to him over their little dinner date. Every illusion that you ever had about his life shattered the moment you saw the smile on his face. The way he looked so happy, so free, a sight of his that he had never shown anyone else before. Not even to you. 
Witnessing everything that was presented before your eyes, you realised how blind you have been. Though you also realised that Namjoon had always been able to make you feel that way, to prevent you from looking at the world around you whenever he had you wrapped in his arms. He had kept you in the dark for so long, veiled from the reality where his other life still existed, kept safely in a far distance where you wouldn’t be able to reach. 
That was the moment when you finally woke up from your dream. To realise that it would never be possible for the two of you to be together. Not without facing a heavy repercussion—like hurting an innocent soul and shattering whatever image that she had ever created of her father.
That was when you decided that you had no place in his life.
When you stepped away from the scene, the fractures in your heart presented themselves to you, reminding you that they were never truly gone as they manifested with each step that you took to walk away. The strong urge to turn back around kept weighing you down. Yet you resisted, choosing not to ruin what was possibly the sole reason that he ever had to hold on to the life that had kept him isolated even from himself. 
Namjoon might think of you as a coward, because that is exactly what you are. And what you have been doing for the past half of year has been nothing more but a coward move that no doubt has been hurting him since the moment you took that fated decision. Just when he was finally ready to fight for the life that he wanted to build with you, you had instead chosen to run. 
But you chose not to disappear from his life right away. You could never do that to him after everything that you shared together. And you needed a proper closure, to relish some more time with him and create more memories while you were slowly planning your departure. Starting by gradually avoiding his texts and calls and using your busy days as your excuse to see him less frequently as before. It pained you to hear his disappointment whenever you evaded him, and it hurt even more when you had to swallow your words, forcing you to keep the big secret that you had intended to share with him the night you saw him with his little girl.
During this period of time, something else had helped strengthen your resolve, making you more determined to move forward with your decision to leave. 
The conversation that you had with him about his life and the relationship that he has with his wife has been haunting you ever since that picnic date, way before you finally got to see him showing his love that was so pure to the one poor soul that you could never afford to hurt. For a period of time since, you have wondered if what he has truly been searching for with you was nothing alike to what you have desired to find by loving him.
You realise now that you can not be his saviour. And when you realised just how much younger and inexperienced you had been when you first met him, you have started to wonder if he had been trapped in the same situation that he has with his wife, when he had created an ideal version of you in his head that he thought he had fallen in love with instead of the person that you are today. 
What would happen if you were right and you had chosen to stay?
You had thought that you would be ready to face everything being thrown your way to fight for your love. But would you be able to face the same despair that he has been facing through his life, only to remain to be the same person that he loved, even when a lot of things have changed?
You look over to the pile of suitcases that have been set up in the corner of the room, ready to be lifted away from this place. Somewhere inside, there are a few of his things that you have collected and are planning to keep. Among them would be one of his shirts that you would often wear to sleep at night or when you are lounging alone at home. For some reason, that shirt has become your favourite among his other belongings. You love breathing in the scent of cologne that still sticks on its fabric, though it has grown fainter with time and from being washed over and over, yet it seems like everything about him still remains strongly in your memories that you can still sense everything about him all around you. 
Deep down, you know you should feel guilty for keeping some of his belongings when you decided to leave. Despite your wish to be able to move on, you want to keep the memory of his presence in your life in some way. Yet his old belongings are not the only things that you are keeping to forever carry a part of him in your life. 
For the first time ever, you can finally allow yourself to be greedy. Because this time, you have every reason to be this way. 
A soft cry calls for your attention from the next room, so you leave the unfinished letter on the dining table and rush your way over. The corner of your bedroom that had once housed the big desk which he often used to work from home has now been replaced by a wooden crib. It isn’t anything fancy, just an old second-hand crib which you thrifted from a nearby vintage store. It was the only thing that you could afford under a short period of time and while you were saving up some money to move out of the city. 
A move that would be costly now that there are the two of you instead of you alone. 
The cries soften immediately once you look down from above the crib, cooing softly at the sweet baby who is looking back at you with a pair of wide, teary eyes. Seeing his face makes you smile, even when uncertainty plagues you. You always wonder what kind of world he is seeing through his eyes. If he is just as terrified as you are for the future that lies ahead of you. 
“Why are you awake this late, baby?” you coo at your baby boy as you gently lift him up in your arms. He fusses a little in your hold, but the crying comes to a halt once you have him pressed against your heartbeat. “You can’t be hungry already. Were you scared because I wasn’t around when you woke up?”
As your baby makes his cute baby noises with his eyebrows furrowed as if he is complaining at your absence, you feel that same fear gripping at you from deep within. The fear that first started to manifest inside you the moment you saw those lines staring back at you from the home-kit pregnancy test. The fear that kept on growing while you were busy contemplating how you were ever going to give the news of your pregnancy to him before you left. It wasn’t your intention to keep this from him, yet there had been too many risks that you would have to face should the news of him having a baby outside of his marriage ever comes to light. 
In the end, you had decided to keep things to yourself. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of him losing the admiration that his little girl had for him, nor have you had the courage to face the condemnation that may follow once the presence of his illegitimate son is revealed. It took a lot of effort on your part, but you still managed. Hiding your pregnant belly for an entire nine months had been quite a feat, and it would have never been possible if not for the growing distance which allowed you to evade his perusing gaze while the baby was growing rapidly within you. 
If it had only been you who would have to face it, you would be willing to face the challenge of building a life with Namjoon with your head held high. But your son doesn’t deserve any of the pain. He doesn’t deserve being placed in the shadows and living the kind of life that you had with his father because he needs to remain a dirty little secret. And he doesn’t deserve feeling less than he should because his father had reserved that special place in his heart for someone else. When he had already promised his entire universe for her daughter. 
As you hold your sweet little child in your arms, you feel a new kind of resolve. Tomorrow, as you make your final exit from this place, along with your suitcases and everything else that are precious to your heart and your sweet baby boy in your arms like this, you will be sending that letter in the mail. 
Just like how he did it then before he left the city to be with her.
“Everything is going to be okay, baby. It’s going to be just you and me, but we’ll get through it, won’t we?” you whisper to your child who is now smiling at you, as if he knows that you are in dire need of his reassurance to get through everything. It feels painful still to look into his eyes, finding the gaze that seems so similar to his father’s that your breath gets caught each time, and the dimple that appears on his cheek which mirrors the one that you loved. You close your eyes and press your lips on your son’s forehead as you silently pray to the universe that you are choosing the right path this time. That everything will be okay once tomorrow comes. 
Tomorrow, you will say goodbye for the life that you have here. To all the memories that you have created with Namjoon, and the shadows of your past that are filled with his presence. 
It would be a terrifying thing to do. But this time, you are ready. Ready for a new life. A new start. Ready to find the love that you deserve to have. And you will be ready to write your own ending.
It won’t be perfect. It may never will be. But it will still be yours. 
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⤑ Author’s Note | This was quite a journey to have and it took me longer to finish than I actually thought it would. How did we ever got to this point with such a lengthy story, I really have no idea. This story was originally planned (or unplanned) to be Namjoon’s birthday fic, yet here we are now, a month later and I’m just releasing this one so late. I hope that this story can entertain you in a way, and that you enjoyed this little adventure that I’m sharing with you. Thank you for reading and for getting this far. Please kindly leave likes/kudos if you enjoyed the story, leave comments and questions if you have any, and any kind of feedback will be welcomed. Thank you again for reading!
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— © 2023 @yoonia (Tomoe Dia), all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, and unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed. | First publication & writing on Oct 12th, 2023
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I'm going with 10 All Time Classics from the Captain America (MCU) fandom. I mean, they're all classics to me, at least. In no particular order:
1. This, You Protect by owlet
First installment in the Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail series, which are all amazing. It's a “Bucky escaping Hydra and rebuilding his sense of self” fic, which he does while spying on Steve. With eventual Avengers Family and a lovely cast of OCs bonding with Bucky in the meantime. It has a very distinctive perspective and writing style; Bucky's in constant internal (and sometimes accidentally external) dialogue with himself, making it hilarious and tragic all at the same time. I love it. I've recently been getting into The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells and this Bucky has a similar sassy-but-vulnerable vibe? Read this if you like that, anyway.
2. The One Who Knows by Dira Sudis (dsudis)
This is a Political Animals AU, in that no-powers Steve is inserted into the Political Animals world and Bucky is TJ. Discusses being outed and depression but is ultimately hopeful. The author is one of my all time faves and has written lots of great stories for this and many other fandoms.
3. Blue Scales by chaya
Steve is a merman AU. He's still Captain America, though. It's crack with heart, I love it.
Best line: "May your scales and your love story be our weird secret forever.”
4. Our Lingering Frost by eyres
AU where Bucky is rescued from Hydra in the 50s (?) and so is around for Steve to be found.
5. Assets Out of Containment by follow_the_sun
It's a classic to *me*, OK? Bucky goes undercover at Jurassic World just as that movie's plot kicks off. They're Hydra dinosaurs! It's just great. Also has a podfic and crossovers with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
6. Not Easily Conquered (series) by dropdeaddream and WhatAreFears
Some of the greatest fanfiction I've ever read, the whole series is epic. Anyway, it's a "Steve doesn't go into the ice" AU with added queer angst when (never sent) love letters from Bucky resurface. I particularly like the second installment in the series The Thirteen Letters, which are just Bucky's letters and are insanely well-written.
7. to memory now I can't recall by Etharei
Time travel AU! Featuring post-CATWS Bucky accidentally switching places with CATFA era Bucky.
8. If Wishing Made It So by Leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)
Genie!Bucky AU! This author is great at writing AUs with fantasy/genre elements, it was hard to choose. They've also written an excellent werewolf!Steve AU and a horse!Steve AU that I really love.
9. Into That Good Night by Nonymos
An Interstellar AU! Very angsty and tragic but with an eventual happy ending.
10. Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Speranza
Speranza must be one of the best writers in the fandom, so it was hard to pick just one of their fics. Other strong contenders were All the Angels and the Saints and The Fifties, so check those out too! But this one has a special place in my heart. Steve, Tony and Natasha accidentally time travel to WW2 London, leading to an accidental run-in with CATFA-era Bucky. The author does tragic and romantic time travel tropes so well, but with a happy ending.
I now realise that most of these are AUs, so here’s a bonus rec for a non-AU in-universe story that’s severely underrated and deserves more love:
+1
Heart, Have No Pity on this House of Bone by Sena
This story follows Bucky in-action in the Pacific Theatre. It’s very well written and, from what I can tell, well researched. Steve only appears in Bucky’s imagination and the story focuses on the horrors of war rather than romance, but it’s gripping! And it explores unrequited love, being closeted and period-typical homophobia, which I also enjoyed. I’m still holding out hope for a sequel.
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yoru-no-seiiki · 2 months
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Shit, I just saw you had different accounts for different genres and I already requested on your main non smut(??) account😭😭 Okay, okay, I have a new totally original idea. What about.. male pervert yandere enemy x gn or female reader? Like enemies to lovers but one is only in on it because of their masochistic tendencies and they just love being dominated. And please add nsfw of him jerking off, finding her sweaty (sweet) gym tshirt and it being mentioned that he has, I don't know, JERKED OFF TO THEM IN FUCKING CLASS. (The oneshot could be in class👀👀)
- I'm 🙈 anon from your main account, you don't have to complete both of the requests, either one I know would make me cum, but please I'm so desperate for cocky ass bakugo katsuki like bitch guys who are so submissive and vulnerable on the inside IM BEGGING YOU.. omg, now I'm like them, fuck.
This got me pissing my pants ngl- but aaaaa yess. This came at a perfect timing! (long story short i got sum good news from my scholarship stuff in Ateneo) Your audience with me has been approved.
(also I don’t think I received your other request unfortunately uhu)
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YANDERE! PERVERTED! RIVAL OC x GN! READER
tw/cw: dddne, yandere themes, male masturbation, semi-public masturbation, yun’s trauma with enrollment procedures.
MINORS/AGELESS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.
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University was hell before it even started. Due to complications with your scholarship, you and your parents had to repeatedly go out to get a whole bunch of documents in searing summer heat to ensure you kept the damn thing from falling through.
It was safe to say, you weren’t going to just take all that for granted.
You wanted to be the best student in the history of the institution, no — the whole country. Anything less than perfect would tarnish the effort your family has put into you.
But a certain Ricardo Peralta was making that oh so difficult for you.
Not only was he already a member of the student council and potential president for the following years, he was oh so disgustingly well-rounded and rich. You thought you were a try-hard? Well think again. Ricardo had you beat in many aspects.
But not all of them.
You are a people person by heart. Charismatic, and sociable. You knew how to mingle, how to get a person wrapped around your fingers. Ricardo may have the vantage point with connections now but in the future? It wouldn’t be long before everyone will turn to you instead.
And so began your petty rivalry.
It was subtle at first. Smirking at the one who got a lower score. Congratulating the other for winning second place while having a golden medal dangling from their neck. Scoffing at their rival for having a life outside academics ( pfft imagine having good time management? The two of you can never! )
And then it steadily degenerated into full blown petty fights. Violence at times. Anything aside from murdering each-other was free rein and even then there were days you two took that sort of route. It was mostly you though. For some reason, his parents were quite fond of you and would always let you into their mansion. This gave you plenty of opportunities to drug his ass.
You didn’t know it was because of a deal his parents made with yours to give him access to your room.
Ricardo studied you harder than the academics he worshipped his entire life. He knew you far longer than you did him. You were the reason he strove so much to be perfect. The only reason he wanted to be perfect was for you.
He knew your parents would never think to pay for the outrageous fees the University you (and by extension him) wanted to go to, so he made his parents start a scholarship program for gifted students (Anything to make their son happy). You were already guaranteed to get in from the beginning, and he felt bad for having made you panic from the strings he had to pull so that you’d always have the same classes/schedules.
So he let you win some of the little games you two had. In any case, nothing beats the reward of your smile. And the smug smirk you’d give him as you loomed over the desk, your chest almost resting on his face.
He shook his head, he can save those thought for after he stole another set of used underwear.
He usually came to your locker after P.E. it was when your scent wouldn’t be covered by whatever you sprayed on yourself. Don’t get him wrong, Ricardo was a germaphobe and a half but those cheap perfumes and deodorants you slathered all over yourself so you wouldn’t smell half bad after your exercises couldn’t compare to the scent of your body.
In anycase, today Ricardo got greedy. Impatient. Something his parents were sure to have reprimanded him on. But he couldn’t help it. Could you really blame him? It suddenly started raining out in the field. The way the water made your shirt cling unto your clothes practically made you irresistible.
“Ngh . . . [Y/N]. J-just like that . . . use me . . .” Tears formed at the corner of his eyes as he mumbled in pleasure. If you just walked a little more, perhaps leaned your head around the corner. . . god, he could imagine the disdain on your face. The utter disgust you’d show him.
It didn’t help that you were slandering him just a few feet away.
“That piece of shit, Ricardo. He totally fucking cheated.” You cursed, so unlike your usual polite tone with your fellow batch-mates and the faculty. He hears a resounding thud right after wards.
The movement around his shaft only gets faster. His grip tighter, harsher, as he imagines the way you’d abuse his cock. If he added any more force he’d probably tear himself apart. The thought of disappointing you is the one thing keeping him from harming himself.
His hand only ever stuttered due to the sound of your friend’s voice, ear piercing and grotesque as it is in contrast to yours, “Aray! Nadamay pa talaga yung mukha ko-“
“Shut the fuck up!” You angrily replied, this time slamming the locker behind Ricardo, making him moan stumble forward a little.
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
Streams of white leave the tip of his cock, your threat shoving him off the ledge of pleasure. Your rain and sweat covered shirt now drenched with another type of liquid.
[Notes]:
Aray! Nadamay pa talaga yung mukha ko — Ouch! You really just brought my face into the fray.
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hana-no-seiiki · 9 months
Note
Hello! I hope you are doing well, I have an idea, feel free to ignore but I hope you like it.
Yandere Male Deliquent x GN Ex Bully
Like he tried to make them explode and being their “true self”, because in the past, when they were younger, they defend him and he became a delinquent just to see them again.
Sorry if my English is bad.
Bye!
YAN! DELINQUENT OC x GN! EX BULLY! READER
Also your English great anon! Dw about it.
AAAAAAA I’ve meaning to do more Yan! Delinquent recently anon!! You read my mind. For those new to my account. I already have a Yan! Delinquent OC named Mori Ban (see tag: hns.moriban) who was the first to really blow up from my yan! ocs. I always loved this trope with yan stories hhh
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tw/cw: DDNE, mention extreme bullying, assault, and harassment. (brought out my trauma for this one). i imagine reader to be amab/masc for this one but there are no explicits allusions to that.
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Uttering the name [L/N] [Y/N] was enough to strike fear in the hearts of men. Literally and figuratively speaking, your voice was enough to make even the highest of authorities piss their pants. Not only were you capable of destroying a person’s physical body with your very own hands, you were able to dismantle everything from their relationships and reputation to their financial situations in life.
People predicted you to grow up and become an even more menacing, ruthless person. You had the potential, and with the way you were it was simply the natural trajectory.
But like you always did, you broke everyone’s expectations.
You were like the delinquent version Serena Van Der Woodsen. Mindlessly strutting in as if you hadn’t put several companies to bankruptcy because the owner’s kid looked at you the wrong way. Nonchalantly eating your lunch in the same vicinity of your old victims as if you hadn’t shoved their face into the toilet as a way to pass time. Cheerfully waving at the student council president as if you hadn’t constantly blackmailed and assaulted them for several years just so they’d do your homework and projects. No one was safe from you. You had no code. As long as you felt like it, any life could be destroyed.
Standing opposite to your current path was Mori.
He used to be the punching bag of your lesser goons. Known for being weak and poor, only good for his academic excellence.
He grew up to be almost as fearsome than you. Where-areas you were coldblooded, revelling in the pain you brought upon others. He was a lot more morally guided. Sure, his enemies often suffered worse fates physically, but he wasn’t like you in the way he picked his battles. He only brought hell to those that deserved it. Those that hurt other people first.
And then there was the way he treated you.
You technically belonged to the category he dealt with. You ruined dozens, maybe even hundreds or thousands of lives in a whim. You were the devil in a pretty suit of skin. Despite your lack of hostility nowadays, you never apologised or took accountability, never attempted to atone for your mistakes. The only reason why others haven’t confronted you about it was because of fear. They didn’t want to potentially anger you and set off a bomb.
But Mori? Mori could handle you.
After all, he dedicated his whole life to being your equal; serving you, aiding you.
In fact, he was just so disappointed to see you this way. All disgustingly docile and horridly disciplined. What kind of monster tamed you to be like this? Mori chuckled at the thought. No one but him can match you. You must have started behaving yourself for the sake of appearance. All of this was just a façade. If you had truly changed you would have begged for forgiveness to those you’ve wronged. If you had become a better person then you wouldn’t be discreetly glaring at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.
If someone had truly taught you to be a goody-two-shoes he would have killed them ages ago.
“Hey, [N/N]. Sweetheart. How ya doin?” Mori leaned forward. He grew to be quite a ways taller than you and had to lean over to meet you face to face. Much to your chagrin.
“Fine. It’s so nice of you to ask Ban. If you’ll excuse me.” You adeptly moved to the side. You had dealt with this man-child several times throughout the semester already and knew to just avoid him at all costs lest you lose braincells and precious energy talking to him.
However, you could only take two steps before his hands grappled unto your wrist.
“Woah woah woah there. We’re not done yet.”
You don’t look back, and firmly yet calmly stated, “Yes, we are.”
“It’s a little late but we have yet to give you a homecoming party. That wouldn’t be fair for the great [Y/N].”
You turned back. Eyes wide, not of surprise or anger, but from sheer awe of this man’s audacity.
“I know what you want, and you’re not getting it from me right now.” You scowled at his beautiful pink eyes and effortlessly yanked your arm away from him. You didn’t know it yet back then,
but you had already lit the match.
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©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
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kooksbunnnn · 1 year
Text
Lost cause? 1 : everythings gone?
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Pairing: Jeon Jungkook × female!Reader
Genre: Established relationship/ marriage, angst, panic attack (TRIGGER WARNING) heartbreak, INFIDELITY (do not read if this content triggers you) also, 18+, Please read the author's note.
Words: 5.3k words
Summary: You always wondered, how would your life turn out to be if you and Jungkook had a baby? So, when you finally conceive and decide to tell your husband, that you are pregnant, you didn't expect him to drop this bomb on you. You never would've thought that the surprise you planned would end up in agonized tears because of the shock your husband brings you. 
Authors note: hi everyone! Welcome, to the people who are reading this for the first time and I apologize to the people who have already read this and were disappointed that it got deleted. This was my first ever drabble on this app, but because of people giving so much love to this story, I decided to write another part of it. And since not every story or the ending or the writer is perfect, some people didn't like the part two. 
Since this story is slightly related to a trauma that I personally experienced, I tried to convince people that people have different approaches towards these situations and people might also want to try again if their partner cheats. Not giving a chance again was my approach, since my situation was different. 
Anyways, I updated the second chapter and some people called my OC dumb. So I tried making slight changes in the story and saved it in the drafts. But then I updated this app and my story got deleted from the drafts, which I apologize for with my whole heart. I am sorry if I disappointed any of the lovely readers by deleting the story, for the new readers, I hope you enjoy this drabble! Love you, hehe.
So here it is once again! The Lost cause. 
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Today's a very special day, Jeon Jungkook, your husband, would be back from his 10-day trip to Busan, courtesy of the company he worked his ass off for. Also, you had an announcement to make, speaking of which, you place the single candle on the dinner table finishing your preparations for the date night you planned.
You were pregnant, finally pregnant. After so many tries. You got so happy when the results came but since Jungkook was on a trip, you decided to keep it a secret until he comes back.
Anxiety, excitement, happiness, and maybe fear. What if he does not get happy listening to the news? These emotions are giving you a feeling that you are not able to place in your head quite clearly, but as soon as the sound of keys rattling reaches your ears, a smile appears on your face and the joy wins the race with every other feeling.
You run towards the gate and hide against the wall that was attached to the door giving you a spot big enough to put up your wedding picture frame. As soon as the door opens you jump and whisper-yell a 'boo', which was meant to be adorable but made him gasp and drop his luggage on the floor.
You pick up the phone that he dropped and you chuckle, hugging him you whisper in his ears, "I missed you baby."
When he doesn't hug you back your body tenses a little bit but before you can pull back he pulls you towards him and buries his head in your neck inhaling your scent. "I missed you too." You listen to him repeat the statement like a mantra, leaning back a little you look into his eyes...
Was he crying?
"Hey baby, I love you, okay?" You kiss him, trying to assure him of your presence. Inhaling his natural scent which was also mixed with a few cigarettes. You frown in the kiss when you realize something is off because of the way he just kept his lips frozen.
Also, the cigarettes were a symptom of stress, but you don't pay attention to the smoky scent and kiss him trying to make him relax. All the excitement drained out of you and now you were worried that you did something wrong.
The way he was holding you tightly but also with hesitation, 3 years of a relationship along with 2 years experience in marriage has taught you both, the body language you both can show and it made you a bit worried.
You step back to look at him properly and see that he had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was disheveled. It looked as if he had run through by his hand many times. He does it again, proving your theory.
It's a nervous trait of his.
The single drop of tear dropping on his chin tells you something is wrong, his chest heaving as if trying to contain and also let out something. You realize he hasn't even looked at you once.
"Kook?" Hearing the nickname he opens his eyes to look at your face for a second and then looks away.
"Are you okay? Is everything okay? Did something happen baby?" The soft questions in a whisper-like voice made him tear up and say a distant 'yeah just missed you so much.'
You look at his face that was focusing on the picture you hung on the wall from your honeymoon trip, the hills in the background of the picture making you smile at the memory of your husband whining like a baby because of the cold.
The picture even has his nose red and all scrunched up while you were posing with a big smile on your face, your chin resting on his shoulder with your hands in his jacket pocket while you hugged him from the back, fitting into each other like puzzle pieces.
You both look at the picture and after some seconds of zoning out, you chuckle and say sorry for not even letting him in and jumping on him, he shakes his gaze off the painting and rushes to close the door before he takes his shoes off and just tumbles across the hall when you notice.
His shoes...
He never has his shoelaces untied. Cursing your overthinking brain you tell it that maybe he is tired and just wanna rest.
"You know I ordered a big pizza meal but then canceled it cause I suddenly changed my mind. It amazes me that I can change my mind in 35 seconds.." you chuckle at how fast you felt nausea set in your stomach when you ordered the pizza and just keep on talking, still nervous about how you're gonna tell him everything. "But then I decided to cook some steak which I couldn't cause I suddenly had a headache, so I decided that you can suggest something and we can order while you showe- where are you going, kook?"
You say in a confused tone when you see him opening the balcony door letting the cool air inside.
"Just need some air, Y/N"
You flinch at how he takes your full name, and you realize it must've been your rambling that you sent him to the balcony for air. You feel sorry and walk towards the balcony where he just stares at the city from above, the sun still setting into the horizon painting the sky a pretty shade of purple mixed with a crimson red.
"I'm sorry if I annoyed you baby, just excited you are back. You wanna shower first or eat something? You seem tired." He shakes his head at your question rocking your body a bit with his since you have yours attached to his back like a koala.
"Can I get some time alone, Y/N...please?" You pull back with your eyebrows knitted together at his sudden request which makes you feel something in your stomach. Something bad.
"Um, okay. Take your time.." you step back into the lobby when suddenly you feel nauseous and you run towards the bathroom with a hand clutched over your mouth.
Oh no. Not yet
Rushing into the bathroom you fall onto your knees in front of the pot, pouring out almost everything you had this morning. Jungkook comes running after you kneeling down immediately beside you, holding your hair back which you were not doing a good job at.
He rubs your back as you cough and try to breathe at the same time not being able to pay attention to his 'are you okays' or 'hey what happened' or 'it's okay, it's okay I am here'.
When you feel like you have nothing left in you, you sit up a little to flush the remnants of your indigested food into the sewer, falling back against the wall connected to the shower cabinet.
You breathe heavily and try to calm down when you notice a big pair of doe eyes looking at you in concern, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as you try getting up.
"I am sorry, you didn't have to help, seriously. You're tired, go take a shower then we can eat something okay?" You try to leave the tensed guy's embrace but he stops you, looking at you from top to bottom examining you as a doctor while you turn to use some mouthwash.
"I didn't have to help? You were literally wrenching your gut out, are you even okay?!" He asks you in a terrified voice turning you towards him after you spit out the mouthwash.
You, not wanting to worry him more because of his earlier wanting to be alone statement, just hold his face in both of your hands telling him that it was stale rice that you had in lunch. Whispering an 'oh', he immediately takes his hands away from your face and asks you to be careful, adding a little please at the end making your heart swell with love.
You both stand there silent while the tap water runs in the background. You turn back to turn it off after some seconds and break the silence by telling him that he can shower as long as he wants and you can order something in the meanwhile.
Walking towards the door, you ask, "Chicken?" he looks at you for a second and breathes a 'yeah'. You smile and lean in to kiss his cheeks telling him not to take too long cause you have to talk about something.
"Me too," he says in an almost inaudible voice, giving him a little nod, you walk back into the kitchen.
After a long 42-minute shower, according to your phone clock, he comes out in a killing t-shirt and sweatpants combination. Smelling his body wash from 2 feet away you feel the comfort seeping into you. You hug him, inhaling his natural and soapy scent, running your hand in his damp hair and scratching his scalp, you chuckle.
"There's my perfect and not-so-travel-worn husband." You were about to start the conversation that lead to the announcement, when suddenly he buried his nose in your neck, sniffling and you feel his arms tightening around you, him mumbling an 'I am sorry' into your shoulder accompanied with little drops that dampen your t-shirt's collar.
You try to pull back to talk to him but he doesn't let you, his body starts shaking as he starts to fully sob. Your heart picks up its pace as you've never seen him like this. Doubting himself or the relationship, you feel a pang in your heart as if something bad is about to happen.
"Jungkook, hey, what's the matter? Are you okay?" You pull back putting in a lot of strength and see how his face is red and his tears are just flowing out.
"Hey look at me.." you try to make him face you but he just shuts his eyes trying to face away from your concerned orbs. He suddenly sits down on the chair with a thud slipping from your hold, he clutches his head and keeps on sobbing and coughing and crying. You try to calm him down with big wide eyes filling with tears as well, at seeing the pain he is in but its as if he can't hear you or your words.
You can swear you heard him say 'I fucked up, I fucked up. I am so fucking sorry.' Your heart sinks and you kneel in front of him, taking his hand in yours. Pressing short kisses on his tattooed fist, after a lot of struggling you finally make him look at you and the expression makes you doubt the curiosity in you because you have this feeling...
Sitting up on your knees coming face to face with him, he stares at you, sniffling, his eyes and his nose all red, lips quivering. "I love you Jungkook okay? trust me, tell me what happened please?" You say softly but firmly, confirming to him that he had to tell everything about the guilt and disgust he felt towards himself. How he wanted to just go back in time, to revert the fuck up he did, which is gonna ruin everything, everything he built, everything he had in this relationship. The love, the trust, he could see everything breaking including you and your heart.
Not being able to keep his eyes on you, he looks down at his lap and you have a feeling you're not gonna like his next words. Tightening his hold on your hands he said...
"I cheated on you."
The silence between you two, after hearing the words come out of his mouth, was deafening. You can't even hear your heartbeats, did it stop? Is this a dream? A nightmare if precisely termed. You feel the air in your lungs escaping and a panic setting inside you.
"It happened just once, I am sorry. I don't know why I did it. I am really sorry. I don't know what to do.." he keeps going on and on, you are looking at him but nothing reaches you.
There is this ringing in your ear that doesn't seem to stop and after a good 1 or 2 minutes of looking blankly at the body shaking and sobbing in front of you, you realize that you went blank. All the apologies and curses that were pointed at him were not even entering your ears.
When the realization hit, you felt all alone in the room, with silence, slow breaths, panic, and the 'feeling of a life growing inside you.' Questions. A lot of questions, came running at you with knives and swords piercing through your heart.
Why? Were you not enough?
Did he fall out of love?
Did you do something wrong?
Did you gain weight?
Did you not give him satisfaction anymore?
Were you ever insensitive?
Did you bore him?
Were you not exciting anymore?
Did you cross some boundaries of his privacy?
Should you've worn more makeup?
Should you have gotten that surgery your aunt suggested?
Did you annoy him?
Will he leave you?
Would you have to beg?
Will you beg?
What about the pregnancy?
Should you tell him?
What if he leaves?
What if you are left alone?
Do you even want to live a life alone, without him?
And many more...
The unfocused look in your eyes and the loosening grip of your hands made him jolt up in the chair and hold your hands tighter, pulling you towards his body, he left your hands and held you by your shoulders, trying to shake you out of the panic. He can almost read the questions in your eyes. He can explain, and he wants to, but he needs you to get back to him. Back to the lobby where you were looking into his eyes but still were not able to hear or see or feel him.
"Y/N. Look at me. Hey, Y/N, focus baby. Talk to me, please. Yell at me. Scream. Hit me. Just talk please." He shakes you and your body responds with a limp movement which makes him leave the chair and get down on the floor.
The anxiety, the panic, the betrayal, all making your breathing ragged. You want to scream but your body doesn't respond. You've been cheated a lot of times in your life, many times. Including the one time a guy used you for a bet to prove to his friends that he can fuck you. From grade 5th, the bullies of your school had bets on who can slap your ass or grope you in the hallways or in the classroom. Which forced you to shift to another school.
Making new friends was never easy for you and since everyone behaved well to you first and then betrayed you in the past, you had trust issues. So any guy who said he liked you, the issues that made the relationship difficult, ended up with him dumping you or the famous cheating situation. After 5 and a half years of isolation from friends and love since nothing made you feel secure. You finally found Jungkook who proved in every single way that he can be your friend and lover at the same time. You didn't need anyone else. And as of now, if not him, you have no one. This leaves you with another question. Are you gonna end up lonely in that depressing, dark pit where you cried and even if you were surrounded by four groups of people, no one gave a fuck.
The thoughts hit you like a punch in the gut and the amount of shaking Jungkook had you get out of the daze and finally focus on him. Looking at his face you remember everything you guys have done. The kisses, the movies, the cuddles, the teasing, the late-night walks, the crying sessions, the fights, the sex...
Before you can even think about the following genres of your memories, you push him back and clutch your head. Falling forward with your knees still tucked under your thighs, you pull your hair to stop the pain in your head and let out a screech that makes Jungkook sob harder.
He doesn't wanna see you like this, your body shivering, and the way your hands are shaking and your loud cries and wails that he never wanted to be the reason for. He knew your past. He knew every fucking thing. How could he do this to you? He vowed that he will never make you cry, he literally would kill anyone who made you upset.
Now, what should he do with himself?
You gasp as you take in the air, your body falling back as you reach for something on the ground to get support from. Jungkook tries to reach out to you but you yell at him to stay away as you start imagining pictures in your head of him kissing someone, moaning someone else's name, coming for someone else. You look at his face that was still crying and had his fists clenched on the marble floor.
"Why?" You ask between sobs not wanting to hear an answer, mostly talking to yourself. Listening to which he cries harder, crawling towards you he tries to hold your hand. But you struggle against him, trying to push him again but he pleads in front of you to listen to him explain.
"No!" You scream and push him off. Making him fall back against the floor, and you even stop for a second to check on him if he is hurt, but you continue, sobbing, when you see that he is okay.
"Was I not enough for you?! Why did you, out of all the people, You! have to prove that I am not worth putting people's time into?! What am I supposed to do huh?" you kneel in front of his body that was hesitant to reach out but wanted to comfort your panicked state. "You tell me Kook...Do you expect me to forgive you? Or do you expect me to trust you again and just forget that this.." you move your pointer finger towards both of you pointing towards your chests, "..ever happened?"
Getting up you get a dizzy feeling in your head and you can feel the room spinning. You lean against the kitchen counter. Tears never stopping. You look at him who was getting up to sit on the chair and constantly looking down at the floor.
Suddenly you can't breathe without asking him the questions in your mind and you wanted to know, Why? Who? Where?
"Who was she?" You ask not able to hide the little crack in your voice as you looked at your husband, who promised to love you. Forever.
"She was the manager in the club I went to celebrate with Hyungs." He speaks up without hesitation knowing that he owes an explanation. That easy? Was it that easy to forget about you and fuck another girl?
"What was her nam- actually no I don't wanna know..." you felt bile rise in your throat at the thought of knowing her name, so after a pause, you got the courage to ask him, "Did you fuck her?" He looked at you flinching at the choice of your words.
"No." He said looking away tears still flowing. Before you could ask further, he explained himself. "I-no, I didn't fuck her, does it matter what we did? I am sorry Y/N, just please look at me?" He begged as he stood up to walk up to you.
You chuckled sarcastically, no humor present in your voice. You looked up and saw guilt in his eyes as he stopped in his way when he heard you let out a half-hearted laugh. It hurts to see him cry but you can't help but feel the pain in your chest overlapping your love. You doubt if you should even tell him about his baby. It was supposed to be a surprise but clearly, your husband had better surprises planned.
You really want to, but you can't really see a future ahead of you now.
"We. It is such an easy word right, kook?" You look at the ground thinking about how he used the word so easily which was supposed to be only yours and his.
"We. Us..." You look up at him and say through clenched teeth, "..It matters Jungkook tell me. What exactly happened. I want to know where exactly I went wrong for you to go seek help somewhere else."
He wanted to protest but you shush him with an adamant,
'Tell me Jungkook'.
He looks at his feet and you prepare yourself for the heartbreaking details. "We met-.." he looks at you and changes his words "I met her when she came to ask if our group needed something. Namjoon Hyung introduced all of us since she was his old friend. They wanted to celebrate the deal and since she was Hyung's friend, we invited her, and I..I don't know what happened but I got really drunk and I just went to wash my face but she j-just grabbed me and pushed me against the wall and.." he started snuffling and you felt your body shaking and long, heavy breathes leaving your lungs, eyes squeezed shut, with clenched fists, trying to hear the whole story without breaking down. "She started kissing me a-and w-we just kissed and.."
He pauses pleading for you to not let him continue.
"Continue please.." he can hear your heart, your voice, and your demeanor breaking at the same time. "Y/N please.." hearing this, you look at him with eyes that were emotionless, telling him that he fucking owes this much to you.
All the while he was speaking, you think about the baby, the little person who did nothing wrong. Will his or her father leave? You feel your breath slipping away at the thought but you control the urge to scream until he finishes.
"..and then we just gave each other a handjob.." you flinched at the term making your knuckles go white. He sounds so distant, so small, the guilt eating him up.
"Did you cum?" you ask him, eyes shut as if trying to avoid the answers. He sighs and mutters a 'yes'. You inhale sharply trying to gasp for air looking up at the ceiling, "did you make her cum?"
He feels the knot in his throat fighting the food he ate earlier which was trying to come out, guilt and disgust seeping into his veins. This sounds so disgusting and you sound so broken. Your breathing making him feel pathetic. But after gathering some courage he admits cause he had to answer you.
"..yes."
It was supposed to happen if they did that kind of stuff but it made you feel sick to the stomach. You feel the world spin and you wonder if there is a chance that a nightmare could feel so true.
You don't know what comes over you when you call his name softly.
"Jungkook?"
He looks up at you with blurry eyes and you reach up to his hand to hold it against your belly. The moment you see him realize, you start crying breathlessly, hiccups making it harder to breathe. His eyes sparkle for a second when he understands that finally, he fulfilled his dream which was to be a father but loses it as soon as he realizes that he fucked up bad and what he did was irreversible, and also that he has ruined three lives altogether.
Him.
You.
And the baby.
His eyes lose color as soon as you drop his hand so that you can cover your crying face with both your hands, not knowing what you're gonna do now.
He steps back as he realizes what he has done. You and he have been trying for half a year and when he got the chance to be a father, to be a perfect husband, a chance to help you sit up, feed you, to do stuff for you cause you won't be able to do, since you would be having a big belly, with his baby inside. Who will one day hold his hand and call him 'dad', he wanted to help you get through the labor so that he could hold the baby in his arms taking in his or her features while you sleep because you'd be exhausted, then have a family picture taken in the hospital, and get it framed to put on the bedside wall.
You just keep sniffing after crying for a time you or he couldn't measure. Your body is not able to move. Your thoughts whirl inside your mind and you don't realize when you black out.
Jungkook heard how your hiccups stopped gradually, making him look upward to see how you passed out and now had your head resting on the wall behind you. Your body was cold and your face was wet with tears. He carries you to your bedroom and tucks you in, feeling sick when he sees your face and nose red. Black trails on the cheekbones. He tries to rub the smudges off but pulls his hand back when he realizes that he lost his right to do all this.
He places a glass of water on the nightstand which was his daily habit, cause he knows you wake up at the midnight, searching for water with grabby hands and whining until he gets you some.
You were his princess whom he liked to spoil even after your complaints of being a spoiled brat because of him, always smiling when he called you his baby. He made sure you didn't have to leave the comfort of your bed. He remembers how you smiled looking at him with your big doe eyes filled with love which were now red because of him.
He turns off the lights in the room to make sure your eyes don't strain while you sleep. Because he would not sleep next to you, to help you get your relief by burying your head in his chest to avoid the lights. He lost this privilege.
All these emotions made him feel nauseous but nothing comes up. The feeling sitting inside him as he watches your pale face being lit under the moonlight coming through the gap in the window curtains. He didn't realize how the clock turned from 07:35 in the evening to 01:05, midnight.
He sat on the floor next to your hand, not even daring to touch you trying to think of ways to solve this. When he doesn't he cries muffling his voice in his arms so that you don't wake up, he doesn't want to leave you alone, afraid of you getting up due to a nightmare or the morning sickness.
He doesn't realize when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up he doesn't find you anywhere in the room, not even in the bathroom. Calling out your name in panic, he runs out to the lobby where he doesn't find you either. He calls for you in a scared voice when the cool air from the balcony caressing his face tells him that you were on the balcony.
He rushed towards you and saw how you were crouched down on the floor sipping coffee or tea. It might be tea coz you don't like coffee in the morning. 'It makes me talk bitter' you told him once at the beginning of your relationship. The memories made him smile.
Walking inside the balcony area decorated by you as soon as you both moved into the apartment 8 months ago, with plants, wall hangings, colorful pots, and a set of chairs with a little round table for your balcony date nights you had on Saturdays.
Sitting down he sees that your eyes are still swollen and he understands you were crying before he woke up. He wants to caress your swollen skin but he doesn't have the right to anymore. So he just sits across you on the balcony floor looking at the floor underneath him.
After finishing the tea you keep the empty mug on the floor with a clink and without looking at him and focusing still on the empty utensil, you softly speak, "Kook, I don't know, I-I just... I love you and I don't think that would change ever but..." he squeezes his eyes, dreading your next sentence.
I just don't know if I can see you, or feel the same way for you as I did before, b-but... I think our child should be born with both parents being able to be around each other." he looks up at you with hopeful eyes.
"That does not mean that I would be able to forgive you, Kook. You broke my heart, Jungkook. I am strong. But I am not that strong to let you back in my life. After what happened to me in the past, this was my last straw and I hope you know that I loved you with everything I had... I still do. But I just can't." You breathe out.
You feel your heart clench at the way he opens his mouth to say something but closes it the moment you start tearing up. He looks at his lap again, soft sniffles coming from his direction.
You don't want to leave, but you get up to leave the balcony with Jungkook still looking at the floor not able to make eye contact with you.
With your back towards him, you say, "I am going to live at my mom's house for some time until I find an apartment or maybe until our baby is born, I do not want to stay here.." looking around you feel your heart sinking as every spot that screams about the time you've spent here.
"...the memories will fucking kill me. Also, you can...um, visit if you want, as I w-want you to be an equal part of the child's life as I am, just.." he looks up at you with teary eyes at your pause, ".. don't expect to be a part of my life, Kookie. It won't be easy for me but I can't risk it. I have to take care of us"
And he looks away with watery eyes when he realizes that you were not talking about the three of you but just the baby and you.
Seeing him try to control his breathing, you couldn't help but walk back into the balcony to kneel in front of him. Muscle memory, you guess. Leaning forward, you put your hand on the other side of his face and give a peck to his cheek, he holds your wrist softly in place not wanting to let you go, and you both sob simultaneously while inhaling the air as if breathing is the most difficult thing in the world.
You feel your heartbreak at the Irony. He used to be your safe space. He helped you breathe.
You put your forehead against his and let his scent get absorbed and engraved in your mind. One last time. But you know you have to be strong. Your past has ruined your trusting instincts and now Jungkook just put the cherry on top.
You mumble a little 'I love you' before nudging his nose with yours as he tries to not let you go, but eventually does cause he didn't dare to stop you after doing you wrong. You get up to leave when you hear a silent 'I love you too' followed by a wave of muffled sobs leaving his mouth.
You let the tears fall openly and vulnerably as you leave the apartment, breaking down as soon as you reach your car. You glance at the plushie sitting on your dashboard he gave you after winning at an arcade.
The little squishy duck looking at you with pity in its plastic eyes, as it now has witnessed your most happy moments and the most dreadful ones in approximately 8 months.
Was everything over? You and Jungkook? Your perfect fairytale? Your perfect family? The dream you've been dreaming of forever, the child and the kid's room, the house in the countryside, everything?
was it all gone, forever?
---------------------------------------------------
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kingofbodyrolls · 4 months
Text
Friendcation (m) | myg | winter special
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| s.masterlist | m.masterlist |
Summary: You’re in labor and live outside of the city, and it just happens to be Christmas time, there’s a lot of snow. Will you and Yoongi be able to make it to the hospital before your baby arrives?
OR– The one where Yoongi fucks you into labor and crashes the car 🙃 (It’s set about 1,5 years after friendcation ended) 🙂
it's obviously part of a series, but it can totally be read as a standalone oneshot (though there's some jokes you might not get, but that's all).
Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female)
Other characters: Jimin 😇 + the rest of the gang makes an appearance at the end too 💜
AUs: roadtrip!au, non idol!au, pregnancy!au, established relationship, married!au, mechanic!Yoongi, holiday!au.
Genres: slice of life, humor/crack, smut and fluff
Rating: mature/explicit/R18  (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.)
Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸
Word Count: 10.3K
Warnings (general) + triggers: sex while pregnant, minor car accident, a lot of crack and humor too, because otherwise it wouldn’t be friendcation. Slight angst. Possessive Yoongi. Jimin deserves a warning too 👀 (it’s always Jimin)! Giving birth in a car in a somewhat detailed description (without medical help). Breastfeeding a baby. A lot of kissing.
Warnings (explicit): smut in the form of unprotected sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, breast play, nipple play (with a little bit of lactation), flashing/exposure of vagina and boobs, comfort sex (Yoongi making sure OC is comfortable the whole time 🥺), strong orgasms, blood (because of childbirth, but barely mentioned).
Author’s note: this couple just wouldn’t leave me alone 😂 So here we are, with a winter special. I really hope you like it. It was so fun to write, I just love their relationship and then also with their friends, especially Jimin 🤭 I might do more specials through time, I don’t know. Don’t know if people are interested (but I’d probably write it anyway, lol). Like, we still don’t know how Yoongi proposed, their wedding, their honeymoon 👀
This has different povs, mainly Yoongi's, then Jimin's and reader's (I hope it isn't too confusing).
Thank you so much – and thanks to all that likes, comments, reblogs, yeah, anything. Thank you from the bottom of my heart, it makes me so happy and a damn smiling fool 💜
Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast @tatyhend @gimeow *strikethrough means tumblr isn’t letting me tag you :( **if you wish to be removed from the taglist, let me know 🌸
It’s been cross posted to AO3 if you prefer to read there.
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He is used to it.
But ever since you became pregnant, it’s been getting worse.
Your sleep moaning, that is.
And it’s always turning him on.
His frustration simmers beneath the surface, fueled by the magnetic allure you effortlessly wield. Yet, with a single glance from you, his resolve melts away like butter on a warm summer day. This magnetic power you wield over him isn't a recent revelation; it's been your enchanting spell, cast long before that memorable camping trip more than a year ago.
Memories surge like a tidal wave, setting his irises ablaze with vivid snapshots of you both, entwined amidst the intimate cocoon of his van, sheets tangled in the echoes of passion.
Countless adventures and camping escapades have unfolded since that fateful journey with your friends, yet it's the kaleidoscope of memories created with you that he holds as precious treasures, each moment a vibrant gem in the tapestry of your relationship.
At last, his gaze shifts towards you, and he beholds the tranquility that graces your sleeping form, nestled beside him. There you lie, on your back nonetheless, which really mustn't be nice considering your big belly.
You’re almost nine months pregnant and the baby can come any minute, he knows.
You’d been trying to conceive for some time, a delightful excuse to have sex all the damn time–although, truth be told, he never needed one.
He feels his dick strain against the confines of his boxers and he wonders  whether to rouse you from slumber, it's not merely the urgency of his arousal but the genuine concern for your well-being—your supine position hindering blood flow and oxygen to the precious life within your belly. 
Thus, with a tender touch, he delicately stirs you from your peaceful slumber.
Initially met with silence, your slumbering form stirs slightly, emitting a soft murmur of both moans and snores.
A soft chuckle escapes him as he observes your endearing response, yet undeterred, he persists in gently prodding you.
In a hushed and tender tone, he attempts to reach out to you with a gentle “Babe,” his voice a delicate whisper, carrying the weight of affection.
As your head gracefully pivots towards him, your eyes, like delicate butterflies, flutter open in response to the gentle call. A soft smile graces his lips, a silent serenade to the gradual awakening of your consciousness.
As consciousness fully embraces you, your eyes roam the dimly lit room before finding solace in his gaze.”Why did you wake me? It’s the middle of the night…” you inquire, the bedroom's shadows bearing witness to the query that hangs in the air.
With a gentle yawn, you pivot your body, settling into the comforting curve of your side. In the quiet accomplishment of this subtle shift, one of his cherished missions finds completion.
In a tender tone infused with love, he begins, “You were sleeping on your back. It’s not good for the baby,” his words a gentle caress carrying the weight of concern for the precious life cradled within your belly.
A warmth infuses your smile as you meet his gaze, a silent acknowledgment of gratitude for the depth of his concern and the wellspring of love that envelops you both.
And with a playful chuckle lacing his words, he adds, “And you were moaning too.” Your laughter joins his, and you both know what this means.
“You’re always horny, Yoon.” you tease, your hands exploring the contours of his body with purpose. Swiftly finding the elastic of his boxers, you trace the outline of his dick with a deliberate touch, a dance of desire that unfolds seamlessly between you.
Your hand glides sensually over him, a teasing caress through the fabric of his boxers, and a guttural groan of pleasure escapes his lips.
He seizes your hand, bringing a pause to the tantalizing dance between you. “Do you want to, babe?” he inquires, his gaze a reflection of both restraint and anticipation, hanging on the unspoken words between you.
A soft chuckle escapes your lips, your body and mind fully alive, the air already charged with the unmistakable electricity that Yoongi seems to effortlessly ignite within you. You’re already soaked in your panties, and with a whispered moan, you confess, “Yes, I need you Yoongi.”
Gently guiding your hand away from his cock, he inches closer, turning you to lay on your side facing away from him.
Swiftly seizing his pillow, he artfully tucks it beneath the gentle curve of your belly, sculpting a cocoon of support and comfort.
Nestling his head into the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, savoring the heady and intoxicating essence that is uniquely yours. It's more than a fragrance; it's a potent elixir that courses through him, a sensory drug that elicits an involuntary response—a subtle, primal twitch in the fabric of boxers.
A low, guttural moan escapes his lips, intimately shared in the cocoon of your embrace, as he senses your shiver echo through his touch.His skilled hand embarks on a journey, tenderly caressing your breasts, lingering over the soft expanse of your tummy where the fluttering life within makes its presence known. As his exploration ventures lower, he cups your pussy outside your panties.
Your hips undulate into his dick, a rhythmic dance that draws an involuntary duet of pleasure-laden moans from both of you. His awareness sharpens, attuned to the undeniable evidence of your arousal. With a deliberate touch, he tugs your panties aside, revealing your drenched pussy.
Initiating a delicate exploration, he trails his fingertips along the contours of your folds, gathering the essence of your arousal before skillfully guiding a single digit into the velvety warmth of your desire.
With a rhythmic precision, he starts a sensual dance, his digit sliding in and out of your eager core. Each movement draws forth an increasing symphony of heavy pants, and he can already hear that you’re not gonna last long.
Adding another skilled finger, he intensifies the intimate pleasure, a seamless union of sensation as your bodies synchronize in a provocative dance. Your backside grinds into the rigid length of his desire, fueling his fervor to push the limits further. With an escalating pace, his fingers move within you, a crescendo of pleasure building with every adept stroke.
Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you urgently plead, “I'm so close, Yoongi. Touch my clit instead,” your voice a desperate plea. He complies with a deft move, withdrawing his slickened fingers from the depths of your core to redirect their attention, skillfully navigating the peaks of your pussy with an intoxicating dance against your throbbing clit.
Yoongi has become attuned to the cadence of your breath, a masterful symphony that he has memorized like the back of his hand. In the harmonious rhythm, he discerns the telltale signs that you are on the precipice of ecstasy—so close that the intoxicating anticipation hangs in the air like an electric charge.
His fingers move in a tantalizing dance, tracing circles around your clit with an intimate familiarity. As he senses you teetering on the brink, your breaths hang heavy in the charged air, and the ethereal moans escape your lips like a whispered melody. In a bold move, he pinches your clit. Your body responds in an electric surge, tension radiating through every inch of your being, held in the exquisite grip of his deliberate touch.
Returning to the rhythmic circles on your clit, he guides you through the waves of your orgasm, a seismic tremor that reverberates through your being. Each stroke of his touch acts as a steady anchor, grounding you in the aftermath of what feels like an earth-shattering climax.
You gasp for air, your breaths coming in furious bursts, and in a voice drawn out with need, you moan his name—a melody of pleasure that lingers in the charged air between you.
“'Fuck!” escapes you in a guttural moan, your hands clenching into fists under the watchful gaze of his darkened, appreciative eyes. 
Withdrawing his hand from the depths of your core, he endeavors to temper the tempestuous movements coursing through you, a steadying touch anchoring your fervent reactions with a gentle grip on your hips. 
“'Damn. It's like the orgasm is lingering,” you confess in a strained voice, leaving Yoongi uncertain whether to interpret it as a blissful prolongation or a potential intensity that might overwhelm you. 
“What do you mean?” he inquires, his voice a warm breath against your neck.
“It's just... I can feel it all the way around my stomach,” you pant, the lingering sensations creating a unique symphony within you. “Ah, it's probably Braxton Hicks contractions, because of the orgasm,” you assert with a newfound certainty. In response, Yoongi hums in acknowledgment, his hand delicately finding its place on your belly, where he can feel the subtle tightness.
“Are you sure it’s just that?” he questions, his concern etched in the furrow of his brow. Yet, as your assurance unfolds, a palpable relaxation courses through the muscles of your belly. “Yeah, they're fading now,” you confirm.
“Yoongi, I need you inside me now,” you declare, your words a sultry plea as you sensually grind your ass into the rigid bulge within his boxers. 
With a sharp intake of breath, he hisses, seizing your hips in a possessive grip, molding you against the heat of his pelvis.
Effortlessly, he peels your panties down your thighs, and you willingly lift your legs to aid in their complete removal. As he holds the damp evidence of your arousal in his hand, a wicked glint in his eyes betrays the realization, damn they are soaked. Without a second thought, he discards them to the floor.
“'Is this position comfortable for you?” he tenderly inquires, a gentle concern threading through his words as he sheds his boxers. Adjusting his position, he moves slightly, aligning himself with the contours of your core from behind.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Lying down and approaching from behind, the fit feels unusually snug. Yoongi, with deliberate intent, spreads your ass cheeks, his hand tracing a teasing path before he strokes his arousal, the anticipation building. As he aligns with the entrance to your core, a slow and deliberate entrance ensues, eliciting a moan from you.
An almost primal growl escapes your lips as he sinks in, each agonizingly slow inch a delicious torment. It's not just amazing; it's an exquisite tightness that makes you acutely aware of his presence, as if you can feel him reverberating through every fiber of your being, from the deepest reaches of your pussy to the intimate confines of your uterus.
Yoongi indulges in a series of deliberate thrusts, each movement a slow dance that unveils the exquisite tightness enveloping him. With each rhythmic advance into your core, he keenly senses the escalating tension in your body.
“Yoon,” you pant, the syllables a breathless plea that lingers in the charged air. Yoongi, attuned to your every reaction, halts his movements, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. “I can feel you everywhere inside, fuck.”
“Is it good, or should we stop?” he asks, a genuine concern etched across his features. His desire is not just for pleasure but for your comfort and satisfaction.
“No, it's good for now, but I'll let you know if it gets too intense, okay? Maybe we can change positions then?” you inquire, your voice a sultry whisper that hangs in the air. As you sensually grind your ass down into his pelvis, fucking yourself on his cock, a soft moan leaves your lips.
Yoongi releases a low, guttural moan against the sensitive skin of your neck, his reverberating pleasure mingling with lust between you. His hand journeys down the curve of your hips, gripping them with a possessive urgency. In this tactile exchange, he finds stability, a grounding force that allows him to drive into you once more, each thrust a testament to the fervor building between you.
As you surrender completely against him, a harmonious synchrony of pleasure unfolds. Sensing the shift, he accelerates his thrusts, a rhythmic dance that quickens the desire between you. 
Yoongi inhales deeply against the canvas of your neck, and in a sudden, electrifying twist, you feel the graze of his teeth. Your body shivers with anticipation, and then he descends, sinking his teeth into your neck. Not too forcefully, but with a compelling intensity that sends a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your body responds in kind, grinding against his, and a sinful moan escapes you.
Then, with a sensual grace, he traces the path where his teeth had left their mark, his tongue delicately caressing your neck before placing soft, lingering kisses. Your response is a sultry mewl, the audible manifestation of pleasure, and in the electric aftermath, you feel a surge of arousal saturate his dick.
Breathless and on the precipice of ecstasy, you gasp, “Yoongi, I'm—,” the words trailing off into a passionate pant as he skillfully drives into you, each thrust an artful symphony of pleasure that transcends language, leaving you teetering on the edge of bliss.
“Hmm?”
His grip on your hips tightens, and with each deeper thrust, the world around you seems to blur as you swear that, despite the physical limitations of the position, you can feel him everywhere. It's an overwhelming sensation, almost too much.
“I want to change positions,” you pant, and in an instant, Yoongi withdraws, his response swift and attentive. With a purposeful motion, he turns you around, orchestrating a seamless transition that repositions you to face him once again.
“What do you want to do?” he smiles, his gaze tender as he caresses your cheek with the gentle strokes of his long, slender fingers. In the delicate dance of his touch, you feel an overwhelming sense of love and appreciation.
“I want to ride you,” you confess, leaning in to capture his lips in a soft kiss. As you pull away, a playful smile dances across your face, your eyes reflecting a potent mix of love and lust.
“Fuck, yeah, babe,” he breathes in eager agreement, turning to lie on his back. As you discard the pillow he thoughtfully fetched for you, you proceed to shed your nightgown, leaving both of you completely bare.
With a graceful motion, you hike one leg over his body, settling into a commanding straddle. Your hand confidently takes hold of his dick, aligning it with the eager warmth of your pussy again. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze down at him, relishing the empowering intimacy of having him beneath you in this moment.
His smile mirrors the adoration and appreciation he feels as he takes in every incredible feature of yours. As you descend slowly onto his cock, your face flushes a subtle shade of red, your quivering lips betraying the intensity of your desire. Your nipples stand proudly, and your gracefully rounded belly hangs low, a testament to the life you’ve both created and soon to welcome into the world.
God he loves you. So fucking much. In his eyes, you’re a goddess.
As you lower yourself onto his dick, a duet of moans escapes both of you, the soft stretch heightening the sensory experience. The angle of this position enhances the feeling, and in the synchronized exchange of pleasure, you both revel in the palpable sensation that binds you together.
“Fuck, Yoon!” you pant, the breathless exclamation escaping your lips as you reach the apex of his pelvis, his cock filling you up completely. 
“'Ah! It's so much better like this,” you moan, the words dripping with satisfaction and pleasure as you take control, beginning to ride him with a rhythmic motion. 
Yoongi's hands find purchase on your hips, their firm grasp not only steadying you but becoming an integral part of the rhythmic dance as you bounce on his dick. 
It's undeniably exquisite, the sensation heightened by the captivating sight of you taking control, sending Yoongi into a feral state of desire. The raw power of your dominance, setting the pace and depth, fuels an irresistible fire within him. Your expressions—those eyes closing in lust, the whimpering pleas—seemingly unravel his restraint, threatening to push him over the edge. 
“You look so good, bouncing on my dick. Such a good girl,” he pants, the words imbued with a husky appreciation. His hands, slightly squeezing your hips, become a tactile affirmation, letting you know that every movement is not just good but exceptionally arousing. 
You keen in response to his praise, a melodious symphony of pleasure that resonates in the air. Empowered by the encouragement, you guide yourself down deeper, every movement an exquisite dance that intensifies the feeling of being incredibly full.
“Yoongi, I don't think I'm gonna last long,” you pant, the admission hanging in the air like an electrifying confession. Sensing the imminent climax, you slow your movements, the deliberate deceleration amplifying the anticipation.
“It’s fine,” he reassures you, “I’m not going to either.”
You chuckle at him, the sound a melodic blend of pleasure and fatigue as you continue to bounce on his arousal. “I'm also so damn tired. This is challenging with my belly being this big,”
“I can take over if you want—or we can try another position?” His offer is laced with genuine concern, a desire to ensure you don't strain or tire yourself unnecessarily. 
“No! I love this. I want to ride you,” you moan, the words a passionate declaration as you sink down on him once more. The anticipation of your impending orgasm begins to unfurl in the depths of your stomach.
“Yoongi—, I'm close,” you pant, the admission a breathless revelation as you continue to move at a languid pace, the enticing rhythm showcasing the delightful bounce of your tits with each motion.
He has always been captivated by the allure of your tits—a mesmerizing aspect of your physicality that leaves him in awe. A part of him remains undecided, caught in the delightful dilemma of whether he prefers your tits or your ass, a choice he'd willingly forego, harboring a fervent desire for both.
Your hands find purchase on his sculpted pectorals, seeking support as exhaustion sets in, causing your movements to slow, each languid motion bringing you closer to climax. His gaze lingers on your face, a canvas painted with the intensity of the moment—sweat glistening, mouth slightly agape, and eyebrows creased in ecstasy as you fervently ride him, lost in the rhythmic dance of pleasure.
He senses a primal twitch within as he stays deep within you, and his gaze traces a path down your neck where the evidence of his love bite remains visible. Continuing his journey, his eyes appreciate the sight of your wonderful, bouncy tits.
Withdrawing both of his hands from your hips, they now tenderly grasp both of your tits. “These are so wonderful, as is every part of you,” he murmurs in a voice laced with appreciation.
You feel the walls of your pussy contract in response to his words of praise, a cascading sensation that culminates in a soft moan, his name escaping your lips like a whispered melody. 
He caresses your tits, their softness, fullness, and weight filling his palms with a tangible desire. As his hands explore, he discovers your perked nipples, rolling them between his fingers in a delicate dance of pleasure.
“Yoongi!” A high-pitched moan escapes your lips, the fervent cry echoing in the charged atmosphere as you throw your head back, surrendering to the pleasure of sinking down on him once more. 
He luxuriates in the splendor of your beauty, every facet of your amazing body a source of enchantment. Everything about you accelerates the rhythm of his heart, the butterflies in his stomach multiplying with each passing moment. 
He gives a gentle tug on your nipple, sending a surge of sensations through your body like an electric current, a simultaneous feeling of warmth and chill enveloping you in a paradoxical embrace.
You sense a delightful tingling sensation rippling across your entire body, a prelude to an impending climax that hovers tantalizingly on the edge.
“Shit, Yoongi, I think I'm gonna come,” you moan, the admission carrying the weight of impending ecstasy.
He grunts in response, the primal sound echoing the urgency of his own impending release. “I'm close too.”
You start to sense a delightful tightness in your breasts, with Yoongi skillfully alternating between rolling your nipples, tugging, and pinching them. The exquisite play on your sensitive peaks sends shivers down your spine. Simultaneously, you become acutely aware of the wetness between your thighs, a slippery testament to the overwhelming arousal that courses through your body.
The sound of skin on skin slapping resonates through the air, a visceral percussion that punctuates the charged atmosphere. The noise sends a jolt through your body, causing your muscles to tense in response.
The tingling and prickling sensation in your breasts intensifies, creating a crescendo of arousal that surges through your body. Then, in a sudden release, you feel the pressure in them subside, a wave of pleasure ebbing away like a tide.
Yoongi watches in awe as a gush of milk shoots out of your tits, creating a mesmerizing display that soon turns into a sensuous drip. His finger skillfully rolls your nipples, the fluid covering them and your tits in a glistening sheen of your breastmilk. Fuck it’s hot. He feels his dick twitch again, as he keeps looking at your tits.
You sense a wetness on your breasts and instinctively glance down, only to be met with a wave of horror as you realize you've begun lactating. In an instant, you cover your bobs, a mix of shock and embarrassment washing over you. The sudden shift in your body leaves you feeling vulnerable and a bit grossed out.
“I'm so sorry,” you begin, breathless words escaping your lips as you continue to fuck yourself on his dick. 
“You don't have to be sorry, babe. It's natural and sexy,” he reassures you with a loving smile, a genuine attempt to dispel any insecurity. His eyes, filled with both warmth and desire, convey a message beyond words—that he not only doesn't mind but finds the situation undeniably hot. 
“Please let me touch them,” he pleads with a rare vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor. 
You take a moment to contemplate, acknowledging that while you might not find it as inherently sexy as he does, the arousal sparked by his desire for you is undeniably enticing. Embracing the vulnerability, you lean in and press your tits closer to his face, your tummy meeting his, as you concede with a whispered “okay.” 
You release your breasts from your grasp, and like a magnet seeking its counterpart, his hands find them once more. With deliberate tenderness, he begins to massage your tts, each slow and deliberate stroke creating ripples of pleasure that resonate through your body. 
As you move up and down on his length, the kaleidoscope of emotions—love, lust, and adoration—mirrored in Yoongi's eyes sends a shiver down your spine. In that charged moment, overwhelmed by the intensity of his gaze, you feel like you could die a happy woman. 
His fingers resume their dance, skillfully rolling your nipples and coating them with the warm fluid of your breast milk.
With a newfound determination, you pick up the pace, fervently chasing the brink of your orgasm. Yoongi, fully immersed in the moment, continues to fondle your tits with an affectionate touch.
“Ah! Yoongi, it's so good!” you moan with a symphony of pleasure as you lower yourself onto him, and in response, he tugs a little harder on your nipples.
“Fuck,” you pant, breathless, the sensation of being so thoroughly filled with desire and pleasure overwhelming your senses.
As your stomach tightens, the internal coil finally springs free, and you unleash your slick juices on his dick. A surge of ecstasy washes over you, rendering your vision blurry, a temporary blindness overcome by the intensity of pleasure. A strange ringing noise fills your ears, and your body collapses against Yoongi's in a state of blissful surrender.
With remarkable speed, he intercepts your naked form before it collides with him, his strong and firm hands seizing your hips to anchor you on top of him. 
You man fervently, the echoes of your climax still reverberating through your body. In the throes of your descent from ecstasy, a desperate plea escapes your lips, “Yoongi, please fcuk me.”
With a firm grip on your hips, he squeezes them again, initiating a rapid and relentless pace of thrusting into you. The urgency in his movements mirrors the crescendo of desire building within him as he fervently chases his own impending orgasm. 
Fuck, it was hot to witness you unravel in such ecstasy. The lingering sensation of your walls pulsating around his dick lingers, as if you're tightly embracing him, and he revels in it. Being inside you, outside you, every facet of connection with you fuels a deep and insatiable love within him. 
“Fuck, babe – you’re so tight!” he moans in pure delight. As you sit up, a newfound intensity in your movements, your hands find your tits, skillfully rolling your nipples, and a rivulet of breast milk drips out. Fuck. That will be his undoing.
“Ah, babe—,” he moans your name with a drawn-out, languid tone, his eyes unable to tear away from the sinful allure of your face and the captivating sight of your incredible tits. 
Inexplicably, your walls continue to throb around him, coaxing an unbridled release from him. A guttural moan of your name escapes his lips, a primal declaration of the intensity of the moment, synchronized with the eruption of his warm seed, cascading into the depths of your pulsating pussy. 
“Fuck!” he pants, his thrusts persisting a few times before he deftly lifts you, positioning you higher on his stomach. In the aftermath of shared ecstasy, both of you lost in the haze of pleasure, the residue of your combined orgasms coats and binds you together, a slick and intimate testament to the intensity of lust.
“Ah…” you moan, a sultry melody escaping your lips as you descend into Yoongi's embrace. Despite the undertones of desire that lace your voice, he can't help but wonder what might be amiss as he sees pain etched in your face.
“What’s wrong, babe?” he inquires, his gaze locking onto your lustful eyes as he seeks to unravel the secrets veiled behind their desire-laden depths.
“I think I’m still orgasming,” you pant, rising once more, “it’s like my body won’t stop.” A shared gaze lingers between you, uncertainty flickering in both your eyes as the lingering waves of pleasure blur the lines between ecstasy and the unknown.
“Is it good or bad though?” he probes, a furrow forming on his brow as he attempts to unravel the mystery. “It’s not bad, but my tummy feels so tight,” your hand guides his to the firmness, and indeed, it does feel tight.
“Hmmm…” he contemplates the peculiar situation, his curiosity piqued but not overly concerned. “I’ll grab some towels and clean us up. Let’s wait a moment to see if it subsides, alright?”
You nod at him, then gracefully ease down from his lap, sprawling on your side, the remnants of passion and desire lingering in the air as you continue to pant for the sweet breath of satisfaction.
Yoongi gracefully rises from the bed, navigating the darkness of the night with an innate sense of purpose. He effortlessly locates your bathroom, skillfully secures a handful of towels, and returns to your bedroom with a quiet assurance, the dim shadows highlighting his silhouette as he prepares to tend to your shared aftermath.
“Here—, I–” With a sudden urgency, he tosses the towels aside as his eyes widen at the sight of you. Your figure is curled in on itself, hands instinctively cradling your stomach, every muscle in your body taut and tense.
“Yoongi, I think I’m in labor,” you declare, the gravity of the moment reflected not just in your words but also in the silent agony etched across your face, a shared understanding mirrored in the intensity of his gaze.
And then it hits him like a tidal wave; the tightness in your tummy was contractions. A surge of realization floods over him—shit, it’s happening. You're having your baby. In the whirlwind of emotions, he battles to remain calm, to steady himself for the pivotal moments ahead.
“Okay. Let's time the contractions and then call the hospital, okay?” he says, a sense of urgency in his voice, frantically searching for his phone on the nightstand.
“Let me know the moment you sense the beginning of a contraction,” he instructs, poised to start the timer.
“Right now,” you gasp, clutching your stomach tightly. The sensation grips you, an intense pressure, especially at the apex, and then, moments later, it releases. “It’s gone now.”
“Almost a minute,” he observes, his tone laden with the realization that you're edging closer to the throes of labor.
“Describe them to me. Are they intense? The pain worries me, seeing you in discomfort tears me apart,” he inquires, genuine concern etched across his face as he tries to understand what you're going through.
“Just a hint of pain, nothing unbearable. I can handle it,” you reassure with a soft chuckle, a resilient spirit shining through despite the discomfort, and he finds solace in your strength.
“Let's keep an eye on the contractions for about an hour, and then we'll give the hospital a call,” he suggests, retrieving the towels scattered on the floor earlier with a sense of urgency.
“While we wait, let me take care of you,” he proposes, coming closer with a towel. Gently lifting one of your legs, he begins to clean you, erasing the traces of our orgasms.
Your body quivers in response to his tender touch, eliciting delicate moans that dance in the air.
“Fuck. I don’t know why, but it’s turning me on, Yoon.” You moan softly, unable to explain the unexpected arousal, but your body instinctively grinds against the towel, turning a simple act into a sensual dance of lust.
A playful chuckle escapes him as he tends to your aftermath, skillfully cleaning you up. Satisfied with the tender care he has given you, he proceeds to clean himself up. Together, you reclaim your clothing, sitting down in your bed anxiously waiting for your contractions to pick up. 
As the cadence of contractions quickens, Yoongi takes decisive action, reaching out to the hospital to announce the fact that you’re in labor. With a voice poised between urgency and excitement, he navigates the conversation, detailing the progression of your contractions over the past hour. He wants to know how you should proceed.
As anticipation swirls in the air like a palpable force, Yoongi's voice resonates with a newfound sense of joy. “They've given us the green light to drive to the hospital,” he announces, his eyes reflecting the shared excitement. As you both perch on the edge of the bed, he turns to you with a practical inquiry, “Where did you stash your hospital bag?”
Your gesture guides him to the dresser, and with a graceful sweep, Yoongi retrieves your carefully prepared hospital bag. His voice, a comforting melody, invites you to join him, “Come, we can go now.”
Guiding you with a gentle hand, Yoongi accompanies you to the entryway of your home, a silent pact of shared determination. The darkness outside, coupled with the December chill, calls for the practicality of boots and a warm coat.
Assertively reaching for Yoongi's car keys, you declare, “I can drive.” The shift in Yoongi's expression is so abrupt, it's as if you've caught a fleeting glimpse of a storm cloud on a clear day, the sour twist on his face a testament to the unexpectedness of your statement.
His voice takes on a stern edge, swiftly denying your attempt to take the wheel. Yoongi snatches the keys from your grasp, his firm tone leaving no room for negotiation. “It’s not safe for you to drive in the midst of contractions,” he insists, a protective glint in his eyes amplifying the weight of his concern.
“But it’s not that bad,” you argue, why, you don’t really know.
“Look, babe. I know you can do everything by yourself, you’re strong, and I love you for it. But you’re not driving the car,” he says with a tone that brooks no argument, a gentle firmness underlining his love and concern for your well-being.
As you both prepare and the keys find their place in Yoongi's firm grip, you swing the door wide open, only to be greeted by a blanket of white—the snow-draped landscape stretching across the grass, road, and your car. To top it off, gentle snowflakes dance down from the heavens. Fuck.
“Ugh, it’s going to take forever driving into the city in this weather,” you grumble, trudging your way towards the car through the dense, snow-laden path. The flakes fall thick and heavy, making it difficult to see ahead.
Yoongi grumbles under his breath, popping the trunk to stow away your bag. With meticulous care, he ensures you've got everything essential for the journey. Satisfied, you both slide into the car, ready to face the challenges the snowy night has in store.
“It's going to be alright, babe,” he reassures you, his hand gently covering yours before tenderly moving to your belly. “Can't wait to finally meet you.” 
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Yoongi is accustomed to navigating challenging weather conditions on the road, his driving skills unaffected by the snow. However, the incompetence of other drivers in snowy conditions infuriates him. Inside the cocoon of your car, he vents his frustration, unleashing a symphony of curses directed at everyone causing chaos on the wintry roads.
“Ease up on the road rage, Yoongi. I don't want our little one picking up a vocabulary lesson in expletives before they even arrive,” you chime in, settling deeper into the seat, your concern for the baby evident in your voice.
“Babe, seriously, who ventures out on the road without a clue about driving in the snow? And it's the crack of dawn—why is everyone suddenly on a snow-day adventure?” Yoongi grumbles in exasperation, his frustration bringing a smile to your face despite the situation.
“Have you forgotten it’s Christmas time?” you quip, chuckling as he gapes at you, realization dawning on him. Damn, he had indeed forgotten.
“We haven’t even reached the city yet and there’s already so many cars,” he complains some more, and you let him. His voice, a melody that always soothes, even in the midst of chaotic Christmas traffic.
“They’re going home to their families—, watch out!” you point at the car in front of you, its headlights blazing like a comet in the snowy morning, almost blinding in their intensity.
Yoongi's keen eyes caught sight of the car in the opposite lane, and it became painfully evident that the driver couldn't navigate the snowy roads to save their life. Inexplicably, this inept driver seemed to believe they owned the road, arrogantly straddling both lanes. Distinguishing one lane from another was challenging in the snowy chaos, but it wasn't rocket science either.
Yoongi skillfully swerves the car to the side, narrowly avoiding a collision with the vehicle in front. The abrupt move sends a rumble through the car as it navigates the bumpy terrain, plowing through a massive mound of snow hastily shoved to the side.
The car grinds to a halt, Yoongi unleashing a string of colorful curses directed at the absent driver. Now, you find yourselves stranded in the unforgiving grip of the snow.
His concerned gaze shifts to you, seeking reassurance. “Are you okay, babe?” he asks, and although you appear unharmed, your response carries the weight of the unexpected. “Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit shaken.”
As he hums a soothing melody, his attempts to reassure you echo in the confined space, yet beneath the surface, he senses the gradual erosion of his own calm demeanor.
“That fucking jerk,” his frustration intensifies as he hisses about the reckless driver, but you, amidst the escalating contractions, offer soothing reassurance, masking the growing urgency within the car.
“I'll assess the damage outside, okay?” he proposes, seeking your consent. You nod, delving into your bag for a snack, a sudden wave of hunger overtaking you amid the unfolding situation.
Yoongi steps out into the freezing cold, the car's engine humming in the background. He surveys the vehicle, searching for any visible damage, but to his relief, nothing appears broken or in need of immediate repair.
The towering mound of snow engulfs the car, rendering the hood invisible. Yoongi, realizing the severity of the situation, understands that extricating the vehicle from this icy trap is no easy feat. The sheer depth of the snow suggests a challenging predicament, one that requires assistance. Knowing you're in no condition to lend a hand, he contemplates the help he'll need to navigate the car out of this wintry predicament.
He reenters the car, discovering you engrossed in a candy bar, and a hearty chuckle escapes his lips.
Between bites, you inquire, “I was hungry. How's the car?”
“It's stuck pretty bad in the snow pile. Can't get it out myself,” he begins, but you interrupt with a smile, “I can help you with that.”
“Have you forgotten that you're in labor?” he laughs, his voice raspy from the cold outside. “And you're not going out to shovel snow. We don't even have shovels,” he adds, sharing a hearty laugh with you.
“I thought you had all kinds of things in the car,” you chuckle, finishing your candy bar with a mischievous glint in your eyes.
“Yeah, but not shovels,” his laughter resonates in the car, a contagious sound that brings a smile to your face.
“What are we gonna do then, just wait?” you inquire, a hint of worry coloring your voice as the realization dawns that you might not make it to the hospital in time.
“I’ll call Jimin and ask him to come help,” he declares, urgency in his tone as he swiftly pulls out his phone, dialing Jimin’s number with determination.
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Even in the early morning hush, Jimin's phone vibrates, and he glances at the caller ID to find Yoongi's name flashing. It's an unusual call at this hour, sparking an immediate concern that propels him to answer without hesitation.
“Hey, Yoongi hyung, something wrong?” His voice, tinged with worry and genuine concern, breaks the silence of the room as he answers the call. He rises from the bed, instantly alert to the unusual urgency in Yoongi's early morning summons. 
“We had a car accident,” Yoongi's words hang heavy in the air, shattering the tranquility of the room. Jimin's reaction is immediate, a storm of worry and disbelief brewing within him. He erupts from the bed, shouting into the phone, “What??” The sheer concern in his voice mirrors the gravity of the situation.
Yoongi's reassurance echoes through the phone, a soothing balm to his frayed nerves. “It's minor, relax,” he utters, and the calmness in his voice acts as a lifeline, pulling him back from the edge of panic.
“A guy forced us off the road, and we ended up plowing into a massive snowbank. Now, the damn car's wedged in tight,” Yoongi recounts, frustration coloring his words. Jimin, attentive, absorbs the details. “Think you can come lend a hand? Bring some shovels. I'll shoot you our coordinates,” Yoongi requests, the urgency evident in his tone.
Jimin readily agrees to help, his concern palpable through the phone. However, he can't shake the worry as he inquires, “Are you guys okay? And ___? How's the baby?”
“Yeah, we're all fine,” Yoongi reassures, his voice a bit raspy. Jimin strains to catch some muffled sounds on the other end, unable to discern the details.
He glances at the dropped location on his phone, “I can be there in about 30 minutes,” he assures Yoongi, swiftly rising from his bed to grab some warm clothes.
“Thank you, Jimin.”
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As the promised 30 minutes Jimin assured you passed an hour ago, he couldn't help but wonder if you were growing impatient with the prolonged wait.
Jimin spots your car on the roadside, its hazard lights casting an eerie glow, and he expertly maneuvers his own vehicle to a stop right behind yours.
He steps out, ready to retrieve tools from the trunk, but his attention is abruptly stolen by piercing screams emanating from your car. His muscles tense, and without a second thought, he dashes towards the source of the cries.
Why are you screaming? What's going on, and why are the windows so foggy?
With an overpowering urgency, he wrenches open the left door to the backseats, sending it flinging wide, the metallic screech echoing the urgency pulsing through his veins.
He hadn't anticipated the shocking scene that unfolded before him; there you were, legs pressed against the headrest on both the front and back seats, completely exposed from the waist down. He can clearly see your vagina. Fuck, your vagina is big—wait, something is coming out of it!
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Yoongi catches Jimin unabashedly staring at your vagina, prompting an eye roll from him. What's with Jimin? Having already witnessed your tits and now your vagina, it annoys Yoongi to no end. He's possessive; the idea of others seeing you in such a vulnerable state doesn't sit well with him. Sharing is not his forte.
He hisses sharply, capturing Jimin's attention, all while the symphony of your agonized screams continues to pierce the air.
“Stop looking at her vagina, man! You’ve seen enough of her, Jimin,” Yoongi snaps, frustration dripping from his words as your writhing form remains nestled against his supporting frame.
Jimin's eyes widen in disbelief, his mouth agape at the unexpected scene. He quickly redirects his gaze to Yoongi, his expression a mix of shock and apology as he stammers, “I—I didn't mean to, Yoongi, I'm so sorry!”
You clutch your thighs tightly, a guttural scream escaping your lips as the contraction envelops you. Once it recedes, you direct an exasperated shout at Jimin, “Close the damn door! You’re letting all the cold air in.”
Jimin snaps out of his daze, berating himself for standing there like a fool. Swiftly, he slips into the driver's seat, positioning himself to face the backseats with a determined look on his face.
“How long has she been in labor?” Jimin queries Yoongi, who glances up from your panting form for a moment before responding, “A few hours, actually.”
“You could have mentioned that when you called!” Jimin hisses in frustration. Not that the information would have made a big difference, given that the snow was the primary cause of his tardiness.
“But that’s a long time. I can see the head coming out,” he informs, prompting both you and Yoongi to exchange amused eye rolls.
“Yeah, she's crowning,” Yoongi adds with a soft stroke to your cheeks, his touch a comforting anchor as you brace yourself for another contraction.
“What can I do to help? I don't think we can get the car ready in time to make it to the hospital,” Jimin inquires, his gaze shifting between you and Yoongi with a mix of concern and determination.
“I already realized I’m having this baby in the backseat of a fucking car. Serves me right — getting fucked in a car, giving birth in a car. I’ve come full circle!” you laugh hysterically between contractions, the situation not lost on you. Jimin shifts uncomfortably in the driver's seat, but Yoongi remains a steady rock, his presence grounding you amidst the chaos.
As Yoongi directs his attention to Jimin, he suggests, “Maybe you could call the hospital and check if they can send an ambulance our way, just in case. I haven't had a moment to make that call yet.” His fingers trace soothing circles on your thighs, a stark contrast to the urgency of your sudden need to push.
Jimin's face reflects genuine concern as he admits he's never witnessed someone in labor before, only having gleaned insights from movies. However, a memory surfaces—advice from Seokjin after his girlfriend gave birth. “You can try changing positions, something where gravity can aid the baby's descent,” he shares, a eureka moment breaking through the tension.
Following Jimin's suggestion, you and Yoongi exchange a glance filled with gratitude and amazement. Acting on the advice, you shift positions, moving to sit over the seats with your upper body draped across them, your face turned towards the back. The atmosphere is tense, yet the three of you share a determined resolve in the face of the unexpected delivery.
With Yoongi's steady support, you manage to assume a half-standing, half-seated position, your body poised for the imminent arrival of your baby. Meanwhile, the car fills with the sound of Jimin's urgent voice as he communicates with the hospital over the phone.
“They are sending an ambulance now,” he informs.
Gratitude colors Yoongi's urgent request, a plea wrapped in the intensity of the moment. “Thank you, Jimin. Could you come back here and lend a hand?” he implores, a mix of worry and determination in his voice, as you cling to the rhythm of your breaths, navigating the storm of contractions.
He teases with a nonchalant shrug, “I thought you didn't want me looking.” Yet, it's clear he's here to assist you; after all, you're his ride or die, and in this crucial moment, his quip holds a trace of underlying devotion and readiness to stand by your side.
In a playful retort, he asserts, “Bold of you to assume I wanted you to look at her vagina again. There are other ways to assist, you know. I'll keep vagina watch—she's my wife,” emphasizing the relationship he shares with you, as Jimin exits the car to join you in the backseat.
Your tired yet grateful gaze meets Jimin's as you acknowledge, “You were right, Jimin. This position is a game-changer. The pressure has eased up a bit.” Despite the sweat-soaked exhaustion etched on your face, a soft smile conveys your appreciation.
For a second, Jimin doesn’t know what to do – can he touch you? Where? How can he help?
“Fuck it hurts!” Agony courses through you, each breath a struggle as you arch your back, a desperate attempt to wrestle against the relentless ache.
As the waves of pain intensify, he instinctively rests his hand on the small of your back, gently tracing soothing circles. To his relief, he witnesses the tension in your body slowly surrender to the rhythmic comfort of his touch.
Summoning all his composure, Yoongi bravely steals a glance downward, discovering a tuft of hair signaling the imminent arrival. Damn. He knows he must remain composed, steady—for you.
“How did you go into labor anyway? How did the water break, was it like in the movies?” Jimin launches into a barrage of questions, his curiosity pouring out like an unbridled stream. You shoot a glare his way, practically hurling invisible daggers in his direction at the audacity of his inquiries.
His hands continue their soothing circles on your lower back as he asks, “What?” Yoongi resurfaces, his expression a blank canvas.
And suddenly, realization flashes across Jimin's face. “You totally fucked! And then she went into labor!” he exclaims, a mix of shock and amusement in his voice.
You hiss in pain, your fingers clenching the seat with a vice-like grip, the intensity of the moment etched in the white-knuckle grasp of your hands.
Both your expressions affirm Jimin's earlier assumption, a silent confirmation that lingers in the charged air of the confined space.
“Shit, I can’t do this,” you gasp, exhaustion etched across your face, your body seemingly on the brink of surrender.
“You're almost there, babe. It's safe to keep pushing,” Yoongi reassures you with a tender kiss on your cheek, but you push him away, a fiery glare in your gaze.
“This is all your fault. You and your damn big dick!” you scream at him, and he understands, recognizing it as your pain talking and not the real you. Jimin chuckles from beside you, and you turn to give him a death glare, saying, “Don’t act so innocent, Mr. ‘I think Yoongi likes you.’”
“But I was right. And now you're about to have his baby. It's going to be okay,” Jimin reassures you, his hand gently rubbing your back.
“Just relax,” Jimin adds.
“Easy for you to say; a baby isn't shooting out of your body,” you huff, the intensity of your anger subsiding.
“I know it hurts, babe. But focus on your breathing, and when you're ready, push with all you've got,” Yoongi encourages, leaning in to kiss you on the lips.
The kiss sends electric shivers down your spine, and strangely, it acts as a calming balm, making the pain feel somewhat more bearable.
When he pulls away, he notices the lingering frown on your face, and a sense of curiosity washes over him. “It was nice, Yoongi. I think it helps alleviate the pain,” you admit, your voice a mixture of exhaustion and appreciation.
“Kiss me again,” you pant, your desperation echoing in the quiet space of the car. Yoongi obliges, capturing your lips with a hunger that elicits a moan from deep within you. In that stolen moment, the world fades away, forgotten in the intoxicating blend of passion and the rhythmic circles Jimin traces on your back.
“Don’t mind me. But I think the baby is coming, I can see more of its head just from here,” he informs, his eyes wide with a mix of awe and amusement. Yoongi's gaze follows Jimin's, confirming the imminent arrival. 
He positions his hands underneath your core, preparing to catch your baby as soon as it emerges. Yet, your screams of pain prompt a plea, “Please distract me with kisses,” you cry out, your hands clenching around the seats in a desperate search for relief. 
Yoongi glances up at you, your pain evident, and the desperate desire for relief palpable in your eyes. However, he's torn between wanting to provide comfort and being there to catch and deliver your baby. A moment of realization dawns upon him – he can't be in two places at once, something Jimin seems to realize too.
Yoongi gazes at Jimin, a silent plea for guidance evident in his eyes, but Jimin, with a mischievous grin, utters, “You've got two choices, hyung – catch the baby or let me kiss your wife. What's it gonna be?”
Yoongi gapes at him, astounded by the audacity Jimin displays in even suggesting such a choice. He's acutely aware of his own possessiveness, and Jimin knows how much he fucking wants to deliver his own child. He’s caught between a rock and a hard place.
With a sense of urgency, you turn your head and implore, “Do something! I don't care who kisses me, just someone, please!” Your plea echoes with a mixture of sternness and desperation, the pain coursing through your entire body amplifying the need for any distraction.
Yoongi moves with unwavering determination, ascending once more. “Fine. Deliver the baby. You're going to be the godfather anyway,” he grumbles to Jimin, reaching your head and pressing his lips plush against yours. Instantly, you relax, a moan escaping in the midst of the chaos.
“I am?” Jimin questions, uncertainty lacing his voice. Yet, he positions his hands beneath your vagina, mirroring Yoongi's earlier gesture.
You eagerly press your lips to Yoongi's, seeking out his tongue in a passionate exchange, panting and moaning in response to the surge of arousal coursing through you. Amid the heated kiss, you offer affirmative murmurs to Jimin, your desires spoken through the intensity of the embrace with Yoongi.
“It's working, the baby is coming out,” Jimin exclaims with a mix of excitement and focus, his hands securing the baby's head with delicate precision to ensure a safe descent into the world.
Yoongi abandons your mouth, tracing a fiery path down to your neck, his lips leaving a trail of searing kisses and tantalizing bites. Your response is an involuntary groan, a symphony of pleasure escaping your lips, as you gasp out, “Fuuuck, Yoongi.”
“The head is completely out now!” Jimin’s voice breaks through the intense moment and in response, you instinctively grab Yoongi’s head, pulling him back up into a passionate kiss.
As your lips entwine in an ardently sensual dance, the symphony of pleasure resonates, eliciting increasingly fervent moans from you.
Breaking away, you gasp, “Fuck. Why does it feel like I’m coming?” Your breath comes in pants, and you sense a relieving tightness escaping your body.
Jimin swiftly takes charge, catching the remainder of your baby as it emerges, and Yoongi lends his support, ensuring Jimin's hands remain steady in the crucial moment.
The infant rests gently between your thighs in the hands of both Yoongi and Jimin, and as you gasp for air, you steal a glance downward. There, your precious baby lies, serene and silent. A moment of quietude settles in, and a disquieting realization begins to dawn upon you—silence, in this context, isn't the reassuring sound you anticipated.
Dread courses through you as you breathe heavily, realizing the absence of that expected newborn cry. Without hesitation, you extend your trembling arms, pulling your baby up against your chest in a desperate embrace.
An air of tension hangs heavy, mirrored in the anxious expressions on Jimin and Yoongi's faces, both men holding their breath, awaiting the sound that should signify life's beginning.
In an instinctual surge of emotion, you tear your shirt to shreds with one hand, cradling your newborn against your bare chest. Shock registers on both Jimin and Yoongi's faces as they witness this raw display of maternal instinct, captivated by the power and determination radiating from you.
As you gently rub the baby's back, waves of sadness wash over you, and tears stream down your face. In a choked voice, you express your fear, “This is why I should have delivered in the hospital. What if something happened to the baby and it's...gone?” The last part of the sentence catches in your throat, too emotional to articulate fully.
In the confined space of the car, you twist around, pressing your back against the seat as tears cascade down your cheeks. The anguish in your body is palpable, each sob causing a tremor that echoes the pain you're enduring.
In an instant, a second cry intertwines with yours, and you lower your gaze to behold your baby, tiny and fragile, yet alive. A surge of relief floods through every fiber of your being, mirrored in the eyes of the two men who exchange a profound, knowing glance.
Clutching your newborn close, you haven't even taken a moment to check the gender, but in this raw and tender moment, it hardly matters. All that echoes through your soul is the reassurance that everything is alright.
Overflowing with gratitude, your voice carries a symphony of love as your eyes dance between your husband and Jimin. “Thank you, both of you” you whisper, your heart swelling with the depth of the moment.
Yoongi whispers, his voice a tender melody, “You did incredible, babe,” as he leans in to press a gentle kiss against your cheek, his words echoing with admiration for your strength and resilience.
“No problem at all. You were amazing, ___,” Jimin commends, leaning back into the seat beside you, his hands stained with blood, that he wipes off on his pants.
“Jimin, could you check the trunk for some thermal blankets?” Yoongi requests, his gaze tenderly fixed on your baby, who has quieted down and now rests peacefully against your boobs—what he believes to be the most comforting place.
Jimin returns with a bundle of blankets, and Yoongi, with a sense of urgency, joins him in carefully wrapping you and the baby. The blankets cocoon you both, shielding you from the biting cold as you patiently await the arrival of the ambulance.
“Should we find anything to cut the cord with?” In a sudden burst of practicality, Jimin scans the car, his eyes searching for anything suitable to cut the cord.
“No, no. I've read that the baby can stay attached for hours and even days. So I'm fine waiting to do it in the hospital,” you say, your voice carrying a mixture of fatigue and overwhelming love. Your eyes remain fixed on your baby, and you don't glance at Jimin as you express your decision.
Then, a sensation grips your attention, warmth and thickness enveloping you between your legs. As you cast your gaze downward, the revelation dawns upon you – it's the placenta.
“You guys might need a new car,” Jimin breaks into laughter and Yoongi looks at him perplexed, before he scans the state of the car; it’s filled with blood, anatomic fluid and God knows what else. He reckons you’ll have to burn it, if it can’t be cleaned.
Half an hour post-delivery, the ambulance team arrives like guardian angels, swooping in to cradle you in their capable hands as they whisk you away to the sanctuary of the hospital.
Jimin swiftly summons roadside assistance, ensuring a caretaker for your stranded car, while he maneuvers his own vehicle through the snowy streets to the hospital.
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Nestled in the hospital room, you're navigating the nuances of new motherhood. The compassionate nurses guide you through the art of breastfeeding, and you're determined to master this intimate dance with your newborn.
Beside you, Yoongi shares in the enchantment, both of you reveling in the miracle of your beautiful baby girl, awestruck at the realization that you've crafted this extraordinary little being together.
Gazing into his eyes, a kaleidoscope of love, affection, and adoration, he whispers, “I love you, babe,” before tenderly leaning in for a heartfelt kiss.
“I love you too, Yoongi.”
Jimin sweeps into the room, a harbinger of warmth and color, bearing a bouquet of your favorite purple flowers. Your heart flutters as you press a grateful kiss to his cheek, expressing your thanks.
Deep gratitude colors Yoongi's voice as he wraps Jimin in a tight embrace. “Seriously, Jimin, thank you for everything,” he murmurs, sincerity etched in his words. Jimin, with a warm smile, responds, “It's no problem. You're welcome.”
Clutching Jimin's hand, you squeeze it tightly, your eyes reflecting sincere appreciation. “No, thank you. I would never have made it without you,” you express, the gravity of your words resonating in the room.
You express your heartfelt appreciation, looking directly at Jimin as you speak. “You are my best, best friend, Jimin. I love you and thank you,” your words carrying the weight of genuine gratitude. Jimin meets your gaze with tenderness, carefully keeping his eyes on your face, mindful of not stepping on any toes with Yoongi, not that there's anything he should be worried about.
“She’s really cute—the baby, I mean,” Jimin throws his hands up in mock defense, unable to contain his admiration. His genuine enthusiasm shines through as he revels in the adorable sight of your newborn.
Yoongi begins with a playful smirk, “Relax, Jimin. You're allowed to call my wife cute and pretty, and occasionally sneak a glance at her assets if the situation calls for it; like a birth or a bra mishap—but nothing more.” He chuckles, wrapping up his words with a friendly hug, leaving Jimin with a mix of relief and amusement.
Jimin's laughter resonates in response, and just as the sound fills the room, the door swings open, ushering in the rest of your friends.
They flood the room with warm greetings, and your eyes quickly catch Jungkook, who enters with a whimsical unicorn plushie and a vibrant bouquet in shades of purple, pink, and blue.
“These are for you,” he beams, thrusting the bouquet towards Yoongi, who delicately places them on the table beside you.
“Congratulations,” the boys chime in unison, closing in to catch a glimpse of your precious little one.
You shift your baby in your arms, delicately adjusting your gown to reveal the other breast for feeding. With each nourishing moment, you sense post-contractions coursing through your body, a gentle reminder of your uterus gradually returning to its normal size.
Jungkook, Taehyung, and Namjoon inadvertently direct their gaze toward your breasts, drawing Yoongi’s attention. However, Seokjin interjects sternly, “Enough, guys. Show some respect. Quit staring at her breasts while she's feeding. You've seen other breasts before; let's not be rude.”
Jimin lets out a chuckle from his position beside you on the bed, quietly noting that the others should consider themselves lucky that Yoongi didn't snap at them for sneaking glances at your breasts.
“Starting today, a strict no-gazing policy is in effect for anyone trying to sneak a peek at my wife's breasts or her vagina,” Yoongi declares, shooting a pointed yet appreciative smile in Jimin's direction.
Confusion flickers across the faces of all the guys as their gazes shift between Jimin, Yoongi, and then you, signaling that something intriguing might have unfolded.
As their jaws drop in surprise, you casually spill the details, “He played a crucial role in delivering the baby and got an unexpected front-row view of my vagina in the process.”
Yoongi clenches his jaw, his gaze piercing through the room as he asserts, “Yes, that happened. Eyes off—especially you two,” he warns, shooting a stern look at Jungkook and Taehyung, who quickly avert their eyes.
Jungkook hesitantly clears his throat, his curiosity overcoming his apprehension, “___, what's that on your neck?”
A rosy hue tints your cheeks as you recall the passionate love bite that Yoongi left on your neck just before the chaotic journey into labor began, and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath for the intimate moment that now decorates your skin.
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What do you think??? Any kind of feedback is much appreciated ✨
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the-boy-meets-evil · 5 months
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take my hands (we can fall together) | lee chan | pt 1
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(where you and chan are friends, but he's your brother's best friend. and you've always been just a little out of reach. until one season changes everything.) pairing: brother's best friend!chan (dino) x f!reader genre: friends to ??, pining, slow burn | fluff, angst, (eventual) smut rating: explicit (for the full fic) warnings/notes: mentions of unhealthy relationships (reader x boyfriend), mentions of food, mentions of drinking/alcohol, lots of stereotypical fall activities, reader's brother is chan's age and reader is 2 years older, eventual smut (in pt 3 - see that for warnings), any names of other idols are considered to be OCs word count: ~6.5k (full fic is roughly 23k) a/n: huge thanks to @svthub for hosting this fall collab. check out the full list of fics here. this is part 1, the full fic is in 3 parts and the dates for the next 2 parts are at the bottom. also thank you to my bby indi for beta reading @wongyuseokie and creating an amazing banner @classicscreations. if you want to be tagged in the next 2 parts, send an ask or dm or just comment 💕
masterlist | next
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Fall has never been Chan’s favorite season. The weather cools down, but it’s in this weird in-between. One day, it’s cold enough for heavy jackets, and the next it’s almost warm enough to wear shorts. It starts to get dark too early as the days get shorter, which makes it feel like there’s just less time in the day. Or, even worse, there are days when Chan leaves the apartment in the dark and returns in the dark. Everything feels like it’s dying with the leaves falling. It seems like it should be a season of thankfulness and friends and holidays, but it just ends up feeling like an ending in a bad way. He’s not cynical, he’s just not really sure he likes this time of year.
“I wish I had someone to do fall things with me,” you announce to nobody in particular. 
Okay, well maybe Chan needs to rethink this whole opinion on the season. Because here’s the other thing, he’s always been drawn to you. Sure, you’re his friend. It’s just, he’s always been closer to your brother, Jay. Always a little envious, too. You and Jay are friends as much as siblings, despite you being two years older. So much so that your friend group is somewhat merged. Chan knows that Jay has friends you don’t hang around with and that the same goes for you. It’s still nice, though. Seeing the two of you, he understands what it means to love family and also like them. 
Yet in all those years of friendship, Chan can still remember the moment when he started seeing you differently. You’d called Jay late one night, no text or anything, and Jay picked up right away because it was so unlike you. It was your first real breakup, a guy you met and started dating in college, the only time you and Jay had been really separated. Even if the separation was only a two hour drive. You were so devastated that Jay switched to a video call and convinced you to come home for the weekend. All Chan can remember is how much he wanted to protect you from ever feeling that way again. He knew you didn’t deserve the way that guy made you feel. Then, the new school year came around, and he and Jay were on campus with you. The draw has only gotten stronger since then.
“Isn’t that what you have a boyfriend for?” Jay asks. 
You roll your eyes affectionately. “He doesn’t really like the fall. Plus, he’s super busy with work projects. He doesn’t want to go pick apples or adventuring or any of that stuff.”
The way you play it off feels casual, like it doesn’t actually matter. Your eyes tell a different story. Chan’s heart breaks a little as he does everything he can to not show it. Jay, unfortunately for you, also notices.
“Is everything okay with…shit, what’s his name?” Jay asks. 
“Come on, Jay, they hard launched like 6 months ago, shouldn’t you know his name by now?” Lisa, ever the best friend to you, chimes in. 
“Ease up, Lisa,” you say, voice a little tired. “Things with Seungsik are fine, he’s just busy right now.” 
“Hey,” Jay starts.
“We can always do fall stuff with you,” Chan hears himself offer without even realizing he’s saying anything. Several pairs of eyes shoot to him.
“Bro, you hate fall shit,” Vernon scoffs.
“I do not,” Chan retorts.
“Since when? I had to twist your arm for Friendsgiving last year,” Jay counters. 
“That is true,” Lisa agrees.
“No you too,” Chan directs at Lisa.
“That’s really sweet, Channie,” you cut across the bickering. It takes everything in him to remain neutral at your compliment and the use of a nickname. “Maybe we can do some stuff as a group. I feel like Fall is the time for friends anyway.” 
There’s a smattering of agreement, names thrown out of other friends that aren’t there, lighthearted eye rolls at how into this season you are, and more than a glance or two in Chan’s direction. He does his best to ignore those. He doesn’t need to think about them right now. All he can really focus on is that he agreed to get up insanely early on Sunday morning so that you could take this train ride that you’ve wanted to do in the Fall to see all the trees changing colors. Especially since the colors are more vibrant this year. Which is fine. Chan doesn’t really mind being up early, but nobody else is committing to go. Not even your brother. The fact that you seem unbothered at it being just you and him makes Chan’s stomach flip. 
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Chan is nervous when it comes time to leave for the train ride. You offered to pick him up since you were dragging him out of the warmth of his bed so early in the morning and even said he didn’t have to go through with it. Which meant you probably wouldn’t go through with it because the two other people that had tentatively agreed backed out the night before. Even over text, Chan could tell that you were disappointed at the thought of not going. And even he had to admit that he was curious about the draw of this particular activity. So off you went.
It only takes one day for Chan to start changing his opinion on the season. Or, one person. There’s something about the way your face lights up the second you’re on the train that takes him over as well. You’re more excited, still, that the train doesn’t seem that crowded, so the two of you will have your own little area to sit in without anyone else that close by. Sheepishly, you admit that the train runs multiple times a day, but this gives you the most time at the top of the mountain. Taking advantage of how rare it is to spend time alone with you, Chan asks you what exactly it is that you love about Fall. Maybe if he hears from someone who loves it, he’ll see it differently.
He watches as your face transforms. Your eyes get wide, and a genuine smile spreads across your face, gone just long enough to ask if he’s sure. All Chan can do is laugh because it’s so endearing. But he nods, and you’re like a kid at Christmas. You start with the leaves as the train pulls away from the station. There’s more to them than just changing color and falling to the ground, at least to you. Yes, they’re pretty, like shades of gold fluttering along with the wind and bringing good fortune. You liken it to growth in a way Chan never considered. Sure, the leaves are changing color and dying. It’s also about growth and release. Trees need to let go of their leaves so they can go into their next phase. So they can be ready to grow new leaves and new life in the spring. You don’t get that without the release in the Fall. 
You like the way things taste fresher, too. The way apples feel crisper because it’s when they were meant to be enjoyed. The way vanilla and cinnamon just warm your soul with everything they’re baked into. You love the comfort, like a warm blanket, of just being able to bake so many things. When Chan points out that you bake all year around, you get that playful smile again. You agree and disagree at the same time. You can bake all year round, but certain things were just meant for when the weather starts to get colder. 
Most of all, you really just feel like it’s a positive change. Of learning to let go of all the things that are holding you back. Of cutting out those parts of life that feel dead or stagnant. Of starting the process to allow new things to grow. Chan doesn’t mention that maybe you’re not as good at that part as you want to think. He can tell you want to be, but he wonders if you realize there’s someone in your life who really isn’t adding anything to it anymore. He doesn’t mention Seungsik and neither do you. 
When you get to the top and step off the train, Chan gasps at the sight. He’s never really stopped to appreciate nature like this and it’s overwhelming in the best way. It makes him feel kind of small, except it’s not a bad feeling, and he’s really glad that you suggested taking the early train because it means the top of the mountain isn’t crowded. He’s so busy taking in the clear views that go on for miles that he doesn’t even notice the way your face lights up watching his reaction. He can’t possibly know how full your heart is at him being so present. 
“This is beautiful,” he whispers. It seems like a crime to disrupt the peace.
“Yeah, it is,” you agree. There’s something in the way you say it that makes Chan look over at you. By the time he looks, though, your eyes are on the horizon as well. 
“Have you done this before? I don’t feel like I remember Jay talking about it at all,” Chan asks, still watching you.
You stiffen for a second in a way that’s entirely at odds with the mention of your brother. Or maybe your mind is a million miles away. That’s another thing that Chan’s always found so interesting about you. There’s a brightness and a lightness about you, but there’s also a sense of mystery. LIke there are parts of yourself that you always hold back. Like you want to appear to be entirely open, even though you’re not. Like there are secret parts that only your closest relationships get to know.
“Jay wouldn’t have,” you finally answer with a smile. “Our grandparents brought me when we were both still little. But Jay wasn’t interested, so he stayed with our parents. I’ve wanted to do it again as an adult, but you know, life happens.” 
“Anyone who cares about you would want to see this,” Chan admits as he looks out at the views again. 
It’s too honest, and Chan knows it, but there’s just something about this kind of environment that makes him want to admit things he shouldn’t. Or wouldn’t, normally. There’s something like anonymity surrounded by this much nature. It reminds you just how small people are in comparison. He’s also thankful that you seem to be agreeing that you can say those unspoken things here. That is, until he feels your hand on his arm, turning him to look at you.
“Thank you, Chan,” you say with more sincerity than he’s ever heard in all the time he’s known you. “I care about you, too.” 
“I, um,” Chan starts and clears his throat. “You’re welcome.”
“We’ve never hung out like this, just the two of us,” you say, still watching him.
“No, we haven’t,” Chan agrees because it’s all he can do to hold onto his rapidly slipping composure.
“I was…okay, this is gonna sound dumb, but I was a little nervous. That’s why I tried to give you an out,” you say. Your voice is soft and you look down at your feet. Like it’s too much to admit while looking at Chan and when it’s so quiet all around you.
“I almost took it,” Chan tells you.
“Why didn’t you? Weren’t you worried?” you wonder.
Chan shrugs to buy himself a second. “Because it was important to you. I figured it was better to roll the dice and risk it being a little awkward so you didn’t miss out.”
You turn away, but Chan catches the look on your face anyway. Catches the way you take a steadying breath. Can’t miss the way you try to hide as you wipe away a tear. The last thing he wanted to do was make you upset. And even though his heart is racing, he pulls you into a hug. He’s not sure what else to do except whisper sorries against your hair.
“No, no, no,” you finally say. “You don’t need to be sorry.”
“I made you cry,” Chan disagrees.
“No, you didn’t. It’s just so insanely sweet that I was overwhelmed for a minute,” you tell him. 
“Guess it was awkward after all,” Chan says. It’s a little self-deprecating. 
“No, it wasn’t,” you assure him. “This is so much more than I could have asked for. I’m just, I guess I’m not really used to people doing things like this for me.”
Chan is thankful he’s not holding you anymore because there’s no way to hide the way his heart tries to beat out of his chest. All he can do is smile and hope that you can’t read his thoughts because they’re a weird mix. His heart is full that you’re so appreciative of something that seems so small. Sure, life is short, and there are only so many days. But it’s also too short to pass up on opportunities to see something different like this. To actually stop and experience the world around you instead of just rushing to the next day. His heart also breaks at the idea of you not being used to people doing things like this for you. Because it seems so small. It doesn’t seem like some huge thing to do. Chan and Jay have been friends for more than 10 years, so he’s known you for a long time. He knows that you don’t have the best taste in partners. Still, though. He can’t imagine something so small being so impactful to you.
The two of you mostly stick close together, or at least within eyesight of each other. There’s so much to see at the top of the mountain. Little signs seem to ring around the edges, telling people what they’re looking at or giving a history. Each one makes Chan appreciate the views even more. Every once in a while, he also catches you watching him and smiling, like you’re still checking that he’s enjoying himself. He can’t say that, of course, he’s enjoying himself, he’s with you, but he tries to smile back every time. 
Eventually, you suggest having lunch at the restaurant next to the little station where the train stops. He’s been so busy taking in his surroundings that he doesn’t even realize that he’s hungry. Right on queue, his stomach grumbles at the mention of food, and you laugh it off. Once you’re sitting down, you can’t seem to settle on one thing for lunch. Without thinking, Chan suggests that you just share a few different things so you can try what you want. Who knows when you’ll be back up here again? Although you seem hesitant at first, a little reassurance from Chan goes a long way. That and him insisting he’ll be happy with whatever you order. 
It’s truly an entirely perfect day, one neither of you really wants to end, even if you won’t admit it to the other. But you have to take the train down eventually and come back to reality.
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“Sorry I have to take this,” you say with a frown at your phone. 
Chan thinks it says Seungsik, which makes him frown, too. It takes a real effort for him not to follow you out of the room with his eyes. Not that Jay, Seokmin, or Jiyeon would notice. They’re currently locked in a Mario Kart battle, with Jiyeon winning yet again. Chan risks a glance in your direction and makes a snap decision. 
“Do you guys want anything from the kitchen?” Chan asks.
“Yeah, something to drink,” Seokmin says.
“Is losing making you thirsty?” Jiyeon teases. 
“You can’t win forever, Ji,” Jay shoots back. “Come on, Seok, we can work together on this.” 
“That’s cheating,” Jiyeon giggles. 
Chan ignores the banter to go to the kitchen. Ostensibly, he’s actually planning to get drinks for the group in the living room. Realistically, he’s curious about what’s making you frown and if you’re okay. From his spot in the kitchen, he can hear your voice drifting through the door of Jay’s bedroom. It’s hard to focus on getting drinks.
“I understand that your work is important, but,” you start, working to stay quiet despite the annoyance in your voice.
Maybe this was a bad idea because he wishes he could hear the other side. Or at least know for sure that it was Seungsik. 
“Yes, I’m aware that you think it’s just a stupid Fall tradition,” you huff. “No, baby, I’m not saying your work doesn’t matter. It’s the weekend, though.”
Well, at least he knows that it’s Seungsik. Not that it makes it any better.
“That’s not fair, baby. I’m not saying that I don’t want you to work hard or try to get that promotion. You know how much I support you. It’s just I want to matter too,” you say, and Chan’s heart fully breaks at the heartbreak in your voice.
What is wrong with this man that he can’t take a second away from work to spend time with one of the most beautiful people in the world? 
“I feel like I’ve barely seen you in weeks. You’re always working or networking and…” you trail off. “No, I do get that networking is part of the job, and you’re up for a promotion…Wow, yes, I do get how hard your job is. But do you get that you keep making promises to me and breaking them?”
There’s a bite to your voice that’s entirely foreign to Chan. It’s also at complete odds with the undercurrent of defeat. There are two sides warring during this conversation, and Chan doesn’t really recognize either of them. 
“It’s not just some stupid fall tradition,” you say. It’s without any bite now. You’re defeated. “It’s…yeah, I get it. You think it’s dumb. It’s fine, I understand you won’t be coming.” 
It feels like the conversation is probably ending, so Chan turns his back away from the bedroom to focus on drinks. All he can do is hope that nothing about his posture gives him away. But he can’t help listening anyway, and he hears you ending the phone call before shuffling towards the kitchen all the same.
“Oh,” you nearly gasp. 
As casually as he can manage, Chan turns around towards your voice with a bag of chips in one hand. That plan goes out the window when he sees you rubbing your eyes. All he wants is to be able to protect you from the world. Because you deserve better. Not that he thinks he’s better. He just knows you deserve more than this. More than being unhappy every time he sees you. 
“Hey, are you okay?” Chan asks. He meant to ask if you wanted anything to drink, yet couldn’t ignore your frown.
“How long have you been in here?” you ask. 
Chan shrugs. “Not long, just came to get them some drinks and figured I’d grab chips. Do you want anything?” 
“That’s a loaded question,” you say under your breath. 
“You okay?” Chan asks again. He knows you’re not, but he doesn’t really want to admit that he was listening to your side of the conversation. 
“Can I…ugh, this is so weird, but can I just have a hug?” Your eyes are a little wide and a whole lot vulnerable. 
It’s silly, but he would give you anything if it meant that you wouldn’t look broken. No, that’s the wrong word. There’s nothing wrong with being a little broken. It’s just that he wishes Seungsik wasn’t letting you down time after time. Chan sets down the chips and opens his arms without a word. There’s relief on your face as you step forward and wrap your arms around his middle. Your head rests on his shoulder and he feels the moment that your body releases the tension. Feels the moment when your breathing relaxes to match his own. When you step away, your eyes at least look a little happier.
“It’s never weird to ask for a hug from a friend,” Chan tells you. 
You laugh at that, a real laugh, and for a second, Chan wonders why. “You seem to be getting a lot of my emotional side lately.”
Chan just shrugs again. “I’m happy to see whatever side you wanna show me.”
Just then, Jay comes into the kitchen, grumbling about losing another game. He doesn’t even look at Chan or you before going to grab the drinks on the counter. It’s probably the perfect timing so that Chan doesn’t say anything else that’s too honest.
“I thought you were leaving,” Jay says to you. 
“Wow, trying to get rid of me already?” you ask without any of the normal teasing Jay is used to.
“Of course not. I just thought you were going apple picking with Seungsik,” Jay answers. 
It’s then that he seems to really look at you and realizes something is wrong. He looks like he’s about to take back his words when you open your mouth. “No, he’s too busy with something for work. So I’ll probably just stick around here.” 
Chan looks at your brother and hopes he picks up the same wavelength. It seems he does because he sighs in resignation. But it’s a mark of how concerned he is that he doesn’t mention Seungsik being a dick for this. “Why don’t we go with you?” 
“What?” you ask.
“Hey,” Jay calls into the living room. “Who wants to go apple picking?” 
“I’m in, beating you and Seokmin is getting boring,” Jiyeon answers. 
“You haven’t won every one,” Seokmin whines. 
“You don’t have to do this,” you say softly to your brother.
“Oh, are we going with you?” Jiyeon asks. “I’m in. Can I call Vernon and drag him along?”
“We should ask Lisa if she wants to come too. She loves that stuff,” Seokmin suggests. “I haven’t actually gone apple picking in forever.” 
“It’s a lost cause,” Chan tells you, “we’re all going apple picking now.” 
“Fine,” you pretend to sigh, “but can I ride with you? Jay’s a shitty driver.” 
“I resent that,” Jay scoffs. 
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It takes a little time to let everyone know where to meet, but Jay manages to wrangle the group well enough so that they all make it to the orchard. True to your word, you ride with Chan. Jay and Jiyeon go to pick up Vernon, and Seokmin goes to pick up Lisa and Mina. Once everyone is there and the bags are bought, groups start to wander off in different directions to look for the best apples. Because, of course, Jiyeon has turned this into a competition and is convinced she can make the best apple pie. Chan knew by the sparkle in your eye that you weren’t going to just settle for that one. 
“You’re on,” you say and shake on it. 
“Well, this is interesting,” Jay notes. 
“Come on, Jay, you’re on my team,” Jiyeon says and grabs his arm.
“Uh, hello, that’s my brother,” you argue. 
“Yeah, and he’s tall, better for reaching the perfect apple,” Jiyeon says with a shrug. “Snooze, you lose.”
“If you’re that worried about the perfect apples up high, I’ve already won,” you reason before turning to Chan. “Come on, Chan, you’re with me.” 
He doesn’t even hesitate for a minute, which would probably be a little embarrassing if he wasn’t actually looking forward to the afternoon. It seems you have a plan, and all he really has to do is follow along. It’s not like it’s the first time he’s been alone with you, either. Any awkwardness left with the train ride. 
There’s more to picking apples than just picking the first ones you see, as Chan quickly finds out. You consult the little flyer about which ones are in season and start talking about which types of apples make the best pies. Which are the best for tarts. Which are the best for a bunch of desserts that he’s never heard of. It goes way over his head when you’re talking about the different flavors of apples and which goes best with cinnamon and nutmeg and all the flavors that remind you of the Fall. He’s always known that you loved to bake, but there's something different about seeing it in action like this. And you’re not even actually cooking. 
Despite your insistence about the height of apples, you do come across some trees where the lower ones all look bad, even by Chan’s standards. When there’s a ladder around, he offers to climb up it so that you can have the perfect apple. It seems to make you smile every time. The system works pretty well until you come to a tree with the perfect apples and no ladder in sight. In hindsight, it’ll definitely seem stupid. That he helps you fixate on something so small as the perfect apple. Yet, at the moment, it makes perfect sense.
“Here, climb on my shoulders,” Chan offers and bends down.
“No, it’s really okay,” you say, waving him off.
“If you want the apples, then let’s get you the apples,” Chan insists.
“I’m too heavy,” you protest.
“You’re not,” Chan promises. 
“You’re not going to drop me, are you?” you worry.
“Never,” Chan assures you. 
He stays crouched down to allow you to climb onto his shoulders. Once you hook your legs around his back and he grabs your knees, he stands up, very thankful that he’s never skipped leg day. What he’s not counting on, or prepared for, is your surprise. Because in that surprise,  your thighs squeeze either side of his face. He’s sure it’s an involuntary action. He’s sure you don’t even realize you’re doing it. Yet it makes him swallow hard all the same. As soon as he steadies himself (mentally, that is, because physically he’s fine), he steps towards the tree. On his shoulders, you’re easily tall enough to reach the apples you wanted in the first place. 
“Thank you,” you say softly when he lets you back down.
“No problem,” Chan says, ignoring the slight dryness in his throat.
Apparently, taking the perfect pictures in the orchard is just as important as picking the apples. Chan does roll his eyes about that a little bit but agrees to be your photographer anyway. It’s the same thing all over again. Your face lights up at having someone to do all these things with and he’s putty in your hands. It’s impossible to say no. There’s a moment where he can tell that you’re a little upset that your boyfriend isn’t there to take pictures with you. Obviously, part of the whole thing should involve him in your perfect world. Yet he’s not the one that’s here. Instead, Chan offers to take a picture of the two of you and then take some with your other friends when you meet back up. 
The group also has to decide just how to judge this baking contest. The only rules that you and Jiyeon agree to is that it has to be something baked and it has to use the apples. Beyond that, it’s up to whoever wants to participate just what they make. It’s not usually Seokmin’s thing, but he offers to help Mina bake and, since neither of them are that good, you and Jiyeon allow it. 
“Why don’t we get together next weekend and do something else?” Vernon suggests. 
“Like what?” Jay asks.
“Pumpkin carving!” you shout out.
“You know what? That actually sounds fun, and we haven’t done it in years,” Jay says.
“Yeah, we always used to have the best pumpkins as kids,” you agree.
“They were pretty cool,” Chan agrees. 
“So pumpkins and whatever baked apple thing to see who wins?” Vernon asks.
Everyone agrees, and Chan can’t help but look to you. Anything you might have been feeling over your boyfriend missing yet another Fall activity that matters to you is forgotten. Or you’re doing a very good job at hiding it. All your face shows is happiness. It’s kind of infectious. 
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It doesn’t get much more stereotypically Fall than going to the pumpkin patch and taking pictures. Really, it’s pretty cliche. Yet, you seem unfazed by the entire prospect. You’re layered up, just like everyone else, to fight off the crispness of the air. Unlike everyone else, your face lights up when you pull up to the orchard, a different one than where you picked the apples. There are rows upon rows of pumpkins, all waiting to go to the perfect homes. You’re out of the car and off to walk through the rows before anyone else, and you don’t seem to have a care in the world. 
There’s an art, Chan learns, to picking the best pumpkin. It all depends on what exactly someone wants to carve. Too small, and it feels crowded, too big and the face gets swallowed. Unless you make everything bigger, which is always an option. That gets a chuckle out of Vernon and a smack to his arm from Lisa. Lisa, always entirely honest, is really just in it for the pictures and then for whatever baked goods they get to taste test later. She’s happy to carve a pumpkin too, but she wants to use a stencil. And fully admits that she’ll probably get bored halfway through. 
Almost unconsciously, or maybe by habit at this point, Chan finds himself wandering through the rows with you. Every now and then, you pause to consider a pumpkin before moving on. There’s so much concentration on the task, and he can’t help but to wonder if you’re just excited or if you’re also avoiding thinking about other things. 
“What are you looking for?” Chan finally asks. 
You turn and regard him for a second, evidently deciding that he’s just curious rather than judgmental. “Okay, don’t think it’s lame…”
“Why would I?” he asks honestly.
“I sort of have a couple ideas for what I want to carve,” you admit. “Do you, is it okay if I show you?”
“Yeah, of course,” comes Chan’s immediate reply. 
There’s that smile again, the one that lights up your whole face like this is the best day that you can imagine.  You pull your phone out of your pocket and open your photos. It’s hard to miss that all the recent images are from the things you’ve done as a group or screenshots or things saved from random searches. There aren’t any recent ones, as you quickly scroll, with you and Seungsik. His attention is pulled back to the task at hand when you show him a couple of different carving ideas you have. 
“Which one do you like best?” you ask after showing him several. 
“It’s hard to pick. Honestly, I think you should get a couple of pumpkins,” Chan answers. 
That actually seems to make you happier as you pluck one from nearby that’s apparently perfect for at least one of your ideas. Chan offers to hold it for you as the two of you carry on in finding just the right pumpkins. It’s interesting, especially having picked apples with you, that you spend so much more care in this. You explain that some of the pumpkins don’t have the best sides so they don’t look as good when you carve them. They’re good for displaying as is or good to back with, but you want the prettiest pumpkins if you’re carving something.
Well, he can’t really argue with that. 
Once you’re all back at his and Jay’s apartment, everyone splits off in different directions. You and Jiyeon immediately go to bring out your apple desserts. Chan’s a little surprised, still, that Seokmin and Mina actually made something together. But it all looks good, and he’s kind of hungry. Lisa, who suggested ordering actual food, manages to get the bags inside with Vernon’s help. The two of them get to work setting all the food out on the counter for people to start getting plates. Chan starts pulling out plates and glasses for everyone. Jay clears off their little dining table, which isn’t big enough for everyone, as well as the coffee table. It’s not like this is anything formal anyway. 
Even though you and Jiyeon want to start with the desserts, Mina manages to convince you to have actual food first. Then, as everyone is carving, they can start trying whatever looks best to them. You reluctantly agree from your spot on the floor. There’s plenty of space to sit on the couch, but instead, you sit on the floor, right next to Chan’s legs, occasionally brushing against him as you move. It’s a little harder for him to watch you without being so obvious and just as hard to ignore your presence. There’s a vibrance to you again, like everything in your world is right. Like nothing could possibly be missing. It doesn’t escape his notice that you don’t mention Seungsik; don’t seem to be missing him during this activity. It’s not like apple picking where he bailed. He was never part of these plans. Maybe that’s the key, or maybe you’re realizing that doing all of this with friends can be just as fun. Whatever the reason, Chan wants you to keep smiling like this. 
After protesting, sitting on the floor to eat, Chan has to agree that sitting on the floor to carve pumpkins makes the most sense. It’s easier when you’re not bending over to the coffee table level. It also gives him more space. Like Lisa, he’s using a stencil that he printed out. He wants it to be perfect, and he’s not sure he could do it freehand. 
“Okay, I want dessert. Who’s going to tell me what’s what?” Vernon announces.
You’re up before anyone can say anything to grab your desserts. Plural. “Okay, so I made two…”
“Which is cheating,” Jiyeon interjects.
“Is not,” you reply and stick your tongue out at her. You open each container. “These are just apple fritters and these are salted caramel apple bars.”
“Tell me you did not make caramel from scratch, too,” Jiyeon whines. 
“It’s so easy, of course I did,” you retort. 
“Ugh, of course,” Jiyeon groans. “Anyway, I made apple-pomegranate cobbler.”
“Which looks amazing,” you compliment, causing Jiyeon to beam. 
“And since we knew these two would go totally over the top, we just made plain old apple pie,” Mina says. 
“Hey, we worked hard, don’t undersell it,” Seokmin points out.
“I’m sure it’s great, Seok,” Lisa says to pacify him. 
“I’m going to eat it all,” Vernon announces.
He goes to get a plate and, true to his word, puts some of everything on it. You carry on carving and wave off Chan’s offer to get you something. It’s hard not to play favorites, but he also doesn’t want some of everything. At least not yet. So he grabs one of the salted caramel apple bars that you made and some of Jiyeon’s dessert. Things get quiet again as everyone is either enjoying the dessert or focusing on their pumpkins. 
Despite Vernon taking a break to eat as much dessert as he could stomach, he does get back to working on his pumpkin and it’s annoying how good it looks. He went in without a plan and his pumpkin is one of the best. Chan thinks his could probably be a lot better, but he’s also happy with it. As predicted, Lisa abandoned hers halfway through and has been picking music to play ever since. It’s kind of nice, though, to have her doing that. It makes the whole afternoon into the evening pass by in the best way. 
Chan should probably think of new words, but this is another one of those days that just feels like the best of the season. Everyone is together and happy. Nobody is fighting, unless it’s you and Jiyeon playfully arguing when your apple bars win as the best dessert. It’s fine to be in your feelings, and Chan meant it when he said he would be happy with whatever side you wanted to show him. It’s also important to have the lighter days. The easy days. The ones that make weathering the storm a little more manageable. It’s clear there’s definitely still a storm, and he’s thankful for the little breaks like this. 
However, as it turns to night, everyone starts to filter out of the apartment. Seokmin, Mina, and Lisa want to go out to the bar and ask if anyone else wants to come. Jiyeon and Vernon already planned to go out to dinner. They’re still in that phase where they want to act like they’re not dating, even though they definitely are, and everyone is happy for them. Jay’s been talking to someone off some dating app that he wants to go hang out with. That just leaves you and Chan.
“I’m actually kinda tired, so I think I might just stay in,” Chan tells Seokmin when he asks again if either of you wants to come to the bar with them.
“I don’t really feel like going out,” you admit before looking at Chan. “Do you mind if I stay here with you?”
“Course not,” Chan answers, ignoring the look he knows Jay is giving the two of you. Your brother’s never really been good at being subtle. 
“Lame, but I get it,” Lisa says with a shrug.  Everyone but Jay filters out for their plans and he disappears into his bedroom to get ready. Chan gets up to start cleaning up and putting everything away. 
“You don’t need to help. You’re a guest,” Chan tells you when you join in on the cleaning.
“Wow, a guest? And here I thought we were friends,” you scoff. 
Chan shakes his head. “You know what I mean.” 
“I figure if I help then I can rope you into watching a movie with me,” you answer.
“Fine,” Chan says, pretending to be put out.
Truthfully, he’s going to agree to whatever you want to do. You could say that you wanted to learn a new language and Chan would probably at least give it a try. Down horrifically bad. Yet, he’s too caught up in thinking about hanging out with you again that he doesn’t see the way you look over at him every few minutes. Misses the way your gaze softens at how much care he uses in moving the pumpkins. Misses the way your eyes rake over him as if you’re seeing him for the first time. He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn’t realize things are starting to shift for you as well. 
Instead, the two of you finish cleaning up mostly in silence and are settling onto the couch by the time Jay reemerges. Convenient timing given that he doesn’t have to even make up an excuse about why he can’t help. You’re quick to call him on it and he’s just as quick to brush it off as he runs out the door. It leaves you and Chan on your own for the night. So you pick the place for take away and Chan picks the first movie. Just like that, you settle in for the night. 
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part 2 coming on dec. 3rd, part 3 coming on dec. 6th. let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged 💕
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mishacakes · 6 months
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how do you connect to your character? like how do get to know them so well? how do you pick out their likes, dislikes, habits and those itty bitty bits about them? I've been struggling to do that for sooo many of my ocs, and i'm also at a lost of how to design them. like i once had a clear idea of what kind of character they are, but i wanted to change them a bit, make them a little better, and i feel like I've lost that character and that character i'm working on doesn't exists, no matter how much i loved them and enjoyed writing an drawing them. this has happened with every single character i made and it just makes me think that i may not be cut out for drawing or writing characters. i look up to you so i thought of asking you for help
sry for the long rant idk wat im doing
HELLO HELLO THANK YOU FOR ASKING!! So basically I took this question and turned it into a 1.6k word essay on writing characters and how I like to do it, so, uh, hope you enjoy!! and hope it helps!
OK!! character writing. How do you do it? or, well, how do I do it. I’ve got a few methods that help me out the most and are the most fun for me to think about. Here’s my big secret, if it’s not fun I don’t do it. I’m not here to do homework I’m waaayyyy out of school. I’m a legal adult. I pay my taxes. I’m not gonna do something that doesn’t give my brain the good fun juice. Anyways. My methods are: symbols, archetypes, and character inspiration. I use all these to figure out the CORE of a character, their very beating heart, and most importantly, what haunts them. Everything about a character, in my opinion, comes from this core and their ghost. Their habits, their fears, their joys, their coping mechanisms. So long as you have a clear grasp on their heart, you won’t go astray. Let’s dive into it! The characters I’m going to be using to describe how I use these methods are Alice and others characters from my webcomic—namely Edith, Hatter, and Rougina—and Tomiko (you know her you love her, catgirl supreme).
Symbols! I love using symbols, they’re something that can describe a character through metaphor, even without going into detail about their whole backstory and habits. Tomiko’s symbols are lanterns (specifically light), cats, ghosts/yokai, shapeshifting, and gold. They all work to further her character as a rough around the edges monster cat with a heart of gold, who uses shapeshifting as a method (both literally and metaphorically) to mold herself into what others need her to be. Alice’s symbols are hearts, eyes, and flesh in general. Try picking one general symbol (the ocean, the forest, the city), and see how specific you can get from there. Or pick a god or goddess that resonates with your character and see what symbols are used for them. Rougina (the antagonist in my webcomic) is a war goddess fallen from grace, and is symbolized with land and volcanoes, so I’ve used volcanic plants to evoke her. Personally I also love going through the tarot for symbols, assigning a tarot card to characters (of the major arcana) is a fun exercise. Which leads us nicely into our next method:
Archetypes! The tarot deck’s Major Arcana is pretty much only archetypes. The Empress as the Mother. The Magician as the Wise Mentor. The Tower as The Worst Thing That Could Possibly Happen Oh Jesus Shit. These can help a lot with who your character is. I’m extremely storytelling oriented, so it helps me knowing What Role a character serves in the story they inhabit. Another thing I love in archetypes in the Zodiac. Yes, I am an astrology bitch. The whole reason I love talking about my methods is my Sag rising, I love giving my wisdoms. But astrology can be used for writing, and not just for excusing and not reflecting on shit behavior (can’t help being a gemini!). The zodiac is FILLED WITH ARCHETYPES!!! From elements to how they function! The four elements (you A:TLA bitches know this), and three modalities. If you’re interested please watch Eugene’s Rank King video, it’s very informative on the signs. Also many symbols! For example, Alice is a Taurus—May 4, Alice Liddell’s birthday—so she’s pretty stubborn while also loving creature comforts. Tomiko’s birthday is August 23, making her a Virgo, so she likes being precise in her work. More archetypes you can look for are DnD classes! I love using that to design costumes. One of Edith’s recent costumes is very wizard inspired, since that’s the class I see her having as she’s very studious and driven. Heck, all of Alice and the Nightmare is derived from the character archetypes of the Alice in Wonderland characters! Rougina is specifically the Red Queen, NOT the Queen of Hearts!! The confusion started with the 1951 Disney animated movie when the two characters were merged!! Lewis Carroll himself said the two were different! The Queen of Hearts is an “embodiment of ungovernable passion” and the Red Queen is “the concentrated essence of all governesses”!! GOD!!! Tim Burton meet me in the fucking pit you’ll pay for your alice crimes. anyways.
Archetypes help a lot in costumes too, figuring out what kind of fashion they’d like to wear. You can start broad and get more specific with it (like going from a wizard type character to a wizard character with steampunk themes). Fashion is just an extent of character. What are they comfy in? Are they confident in their body? What colors do they like? Bright high fashion or simple dark sweaters? Ryoko Kui is a master of character design I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend checking out her work.
Another method I like using, specifically for Alice and the Nightmare characters, is what I call the “three trait method”. When I was in middle school we did a production of Alice in Wonderland (I was the White Knight), and too many girls auditioned for Alice. So the director’s solution was to split the character into three parts, and assigning each part to an actor. Her temper, her intelligence, and her innocence, all used in different scenes. Now I use that to think about my own Alice character, except with “polite, temper, and curious”. Edith’s keywords are “nervous, tactical, and intelligent”. Hatter’s are “kind, enthusiastic, and intuitive”. Using keywords can help figure out how they’d react in a situation, what side of them would shine the brightest. Hatter’s want to help everyone is his kindness, but overstepping his bounds can be attributed to his enthusiasm. Edith can know what path to take in a pinch, but her nervousness can freeze her in place. Reading the source material helps a lot with Alice characters too, which brings us to our final point:
Character inspiration!! The art of taking things you like and shoving them into your own characters and stories. DISCLAIMER THO!!! If you take things without really EXAMINING what about them you like, WHY you like them, and how you’d like to evoke that same love in the things you make, the interpretations can come off as shallow. (for more on this subject, watch HBomberguy’s RWBY video essay, specifically the section on “anime homework”)
Tomiko’s biggest inspirations are Izutsumi from Dungeon Meshi, April Ludgate from Parks and Rec, Power and from Chainsawman, San from Princess Mononoke, and Mei from LMK. It’s a good cocktail of aloof, biting, vicious, weird, fierce, loving, and bright. Figuring out what I love about the characters and what I want to write in a character like that helps a lot in writing Tomiko. It’s also really fun in a sense for screenshot redraws and memes.
Music is also a HUUUUUUGE source of inspiration for me, I love making playlists. And even as playlists can change as characters grow and change, having a couple of core songs still helps me ground to that character’s center. For Tomiko it’s “Make Them Gold” by CHVRCHES, and “Nice Girl” by Ashnikko. Alice’s is “Headlock” by Imogen Heap and “Demons” by Hayley Kiyoko, Edith’s is “Warrior” by Kimbra, and Hatter’s is “Dementia” by Owl City.
Ok, we’ve gotten though symbols, archetypes, and made a couple of banger playlists. Next is something that can help write your character, the Big Lie. The thing that keeps them up at night. Their biggest fear, their ghost, what haunts them. What’s holding them back from their goals? What do they need to overcome? That can be as central to their theme as any symbolism. For Tomiko it’s the lie that her emotions don’t matter, only what she can do to be of service to her mother. Her arc is about overcoming her dismissing her own emotions and learning to not run away from the people who she truly cares for. Alice dismisses the literal ghost that is haunting her believing that that will let her have a normal life. Edith pushes down abilities that come naturally to her for fear that she’ll be exiled, not just from society, but the world. Rougina believes she must burden the world’s problems on her own shoulders with no one’s help. The outer character and the inner ghost can reflect, mirror, and inform each other.
Now, listen, sometimes characters are hard to get to know! Tomiko was lol. Quinn was for a looong time. And in times like this, I just, let them be. I listen to some music to get inspired, and let them tell me about themselves when they feel like it. And they will, it just take a little while. And a few dozen quick exploration drawings. But they come through. Also, try not to get bogged down with habits and little details of their character, keep their core in mind, what their heart is. Start broad and get specific. That way, if you feel like you’ve lost your way or the character feels different to you, recenter yourself at their heart and go from there. Or, if you find that their center no longer fits, don’t be afraid to change it! Characters are meant to be fun! First and foremost!! I make characters cause I like writing and storytelling, and drawing little comic for fun and me time. Sometimes characters stick around, sometimes they fall by the wayside. You really have to find what sparks joy, and chase your bliss!
So as long as you have your character’s essence in your hands, and you WANT to keep working on them and drawing them, there’s really no wrong way to go. This whole essay I’ve given is just a set of tools that works for ME, and I HIGHLY encourage you to find stuff that works for you! I really really hope that all this has made sense and isn’t just the ramblings of a madman. Good luck and happy charactering!!
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mint-yooxgi · 4 months
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Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader
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Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab
Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut
Pairing: Mingi X Reader
Words: 7,327
Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI
Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.
P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.
A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~
Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?
P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!
Mini Masterlist
An annoyed sigh leaves his lips at the incessant chatter he hears around him. Low whispers rise in volume until the dull buzz of voices consumes him, interrupting his post meal relaxation. Irritation mars his features, his brow tugging downwards as he pulls the broken sliver of bone he had been using to pick at his teeth with out of his mouth.
“What is with your incessant whining?” 
All Mingi had wanted to do was relax after dinner. In peace, within the confines of his makeshift encampment at the heart of his battalion, but it seems there’s been a commotion at the far edge.
“Humans, General.” One of his underlings, a vice-captain under his command, Darius, hisses. “They say they want to make a deal.”
Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Not too bright, are they?”
“When have humans ever been known to be smart?” Darius snickers.
Mingi heaves a long sigh, standing to his feet. “Given the length of this interaction, I can’t trust any of you to be competent enough to end this quickly.”
“They’re persistent, General.” He replies, flinching back as Mingi turns his sharp-eyed gaze to him.
“You let them think their words had any merit of importance to us.” The redcap general snaps. “No wonder they’re being so uncooperative.”
Striding through the encampment, the whispers finally come to a halt. A dead silence surrounds his soldiers as Mingi strolls through their ranks, eyes zeroing in on the small gathering of frail humans. Darius rushes along behind the proud general, whom stands a good eight feet tall. The tallest amongst his redcap companions.
A red sash is tied around Mingi’s bicep, alerting all to his rank within the gathered redcaps. There is a clear air of respect the others hold for him as he walks passed, holding his head high, no falter in his steps. Some even go so far as to look upon him in awe while others incline their head out of respect.
Reaching the edges of his encampment, Mingi scowls. “What’s the big idea here?”
“Ah, General!” Lias turns to him, a malicious grin tugging at the younger captain’s lips. “These humans insist on making a trade with us.”
“How did they even find us in the first place?” Mingi darts his gaze over to the three standing before him, just over the threshold of their protection line.
A woman seems to be holding another in her arms. The one with her head down doesn’t say much, but the one holding her trembles as she meets Mingi’s gaze. The male, slightly taller than the woman being held, stands a little straighter.
“We know mushroom rings will bring us where we want to be, or rather, to whom.” He replies, almost defiantly. “You just so happened to be the closest in the area.”
“Why are you wasting our time?” Mingi growls, teeth bared over much too sharp fangs.
“Please,” the woman holding the other in her arms seems desperate as she attempts to take a step forward.
That’s when he notices: the tall women is unconscious, being held up by the other. He quirks a brow, unaware a frail human such as the small one could ever be so strong.
“We just want to make a deal.” The man states, rather firmly.
Mingi’s gaze darts between the two humans.
“They want us to take their daughter for them.” Lias snorts, Darius laughing along with him. “As if we would care for such a useless mortal.”
“We know a little about your kind.” The woman continues. “Please, we know she’ll be better off here. We don’t want anything in return, just her safety.”
“She can earn her place.” The male adds. “She can look after herself, just please, take her with you.”
“We’re not about to gain something you don’t want.” Mingi retorts harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She has no use to us.”
“That’s not it at all.” The male is quick to shake his head, attempting to take a step towards the gathered redcaps only to be greeted by snarls and snapping fangs. He freezes. “Please-“
“We don’t need one of your kind slowing us down.” Mingi states, narrowing his eyes at the way the unconscious woman sways slightly. Honestly, he’s surprised this woman hasn’t fallen over yet, or caused the other holding her up to collapse under her seemingly dead weight.
“She won’t slow you down!” The woman is quick to protest.
“Watch your tongue, mortal.” Darius snaps. “This is no ordinary general you’re speaking to.”
The woman bows her head, cowering back and holding the other tighter to her chest. Though, due to the height difference, it looks quite awkward. A fact only echoed by the snickers Mingi can hear echo out behind him.
“Oh, come on,” Lias tilts his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his gaze. “This could be fun. We could always use another pack mule.”
Some more snickers are heard from around the area, along with the snapping of jaws in agreement. The harsh clicking of fangs only rises in sound, and Mingi can smell the spikes of fear from the two conscious humans. A taste he absolutely revels in.
“The human would be safe with us from whatever outside forces you’re referring to.” Lias continues, his lips stretching widely over all too sharp teeth.
Mingi spares a glance around at his men, noting their sudden change in attitude. The eager gleams he sees throughout the crowd have him heaving a sigh.
“Very well,” he turns, beginning to walk away from this whole matter. He’ll let his men have their fun, and with any luck, the human will be dead come morning. “She’s your responsibility, though. If she survives.”
A cheer rises up through the surrounding redcaps as the tall women gets torn from the other’s arms and dragged across the protection barrier. Mingi thinks nothing of the way a faint smell of blood rises on the air, knowing his men are probably already having their fun after bringing the human properly into their realm. The other two have already been sent back, their memories altered forever. If they even remember having a daughter at all would be a miracle.
Entering his own private tent, Mingi settles into his favourite chair. Kicking his feet up onto a little stump, he leans back, relaxing into the evening chill that begins to settle over the land. They’ve still got a long ways to go to return to their keep, the scouting mission having taken a lot out of them. The rogue redcaps they had been hunting have all been dealt with. Traitors, every last one of them. The fight they had put up was gruesome, but as always, Mingi and his men came out on top. 
Despite it all, some of his men still have energy to burn as he hears the familiar hooting and hollering of his subordinates last long into the night.
***
The next day, Mingi wakes to the encampment practically all cleaned up. Some of his men are finishing last minute preparations for travel, their bags packed and stored for easier maneuvering. All that’s left is to secure his own lodgings for the next leg of their journey.
“The human finally woke up.” Darius informs Mingi as he steps to the head of the line.
“She’s not dead?” Mingi quirks a brow, barely bothering to scan the gathered ranks to see if he can spot the women he saw last night.
“We figured we could use her for some entertainment-“ at Mingi’s sharp glare, Darius stops himself. “She’s surprisingly stronger than she looks. We’ve loaded her with a few packs and told her to carry them for us, or else she won’t like the outcome.” The vice-captain shrugs. “She complied.”
Mingi hums to himself, turning towards the direction they’ll be setting off in in a few minutes. He finds it odd for a human to be so complacent. All of the stories he’s heard contradict such simplistic actions. He was expecting screaming, and an attempt to run the first moment she regained consciousness. 
Even more shocking is the fact that you’re still alive.
“Don’t let it go on too long,” Mingi shoots him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Have your fun, but make sure she doesn’t slow me down.”
“Of course, General.” Darius nods, saluting him before running off to finish some last minute things.
Quietly, Mingi observes his battalion. He can see Lias barking orders at some subordinates to finish packing the rest of the camp quickly. Others appear to be scrambling about, and true to Darius’ word, Mingi spots that same tall woman from last night standing off to the side.
There’s nothing special about you. At least, from what Mingi can tell. You stand upright, spine straight with three packs carried on your figure. Their bulk simply adds to your own, nearly drowning you in their sheer size. Your face looks worn, and tired, but you move around where they instruct you to without complaint. 
Mingi just hopes you can keep up with them.
A few minutes later, the redcaps are on the move. Multiple shoot you looks of disgust as they run passed, growling lowly in your direction. Some even go to far as to purposely run into you, spitting on you as they knock you over in your attempts to keep pace with the company. 
It isn’t more than an hour into the morning when you start to fall behind.
Mingi heaves out a sigh, smelling the faintest bit of blood again in the air. A scent not uncommon in a group of redcaps, given their premise. Though, what truly annoys him is the subtle limp you attempt to hide as he marches over to you at the very rear of his guard.
Again, his men part for him silently. The simple power he exudes enough to silence even the rowdiest of the bunch.
“Are you that incompetent that you do not know how to walk properly, mortal?” He sneers, irritation clear on his features.
“I can walk just fine.” You reply bluntly.
“Then, keep up.” He snaps, turning so as not to waste another word on you for the moment.
With Mingi’s back to you, he fails to notice the harsh glare you send his way, but his subordinates do.
A harsh slap rings out through the forest, a dull thud heard soon after.
“You dare look upon our general with such vile contempt in your eyes?” Lias’ voice booms out through the surrounding redcaps, catching Mingi’s attention.
He freezes, turning to spare a glance over his shoulder.
There you rest, face down on the ground as you attempt to push yourself up. Your clothes are even more disheveled than before, dirt smearing your cheek. Yet, that harsh look still rests upon your face, even as the smell of blood becomes more prominent in the air.
“I didn’t ask for this.” You keep your voice low, but still clear enough for everyone around you to hear.
“Well, get used to it, Sweetheart,” Lias hisses, tugging you harshly back to your feet by the back of your neck. “You’re no better than a pet, now.”
You say nothing, instead opting to purse your lips. Your eyes narrow as you watch Lias retreat from you, hands fisted around the straps of the packs you carry as your whole body seems to tremble. 
If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re angry.
No… not angry. Disappointed.
Turning back to face front, Mingi decides to ignore you for the rest of the day. You’re not his responsibility, and how his subordinates treat you is truly none of his concern. Really, if it were up to him, he would have sent those two other humans bargaining for you to join them here in the fae realm packing. Perhaps he should have made an example of you all when he had the chance. Only, now, he’s stuck with you, and he’ll have to learn to deal with it, for the sake of his men. It’s not like you’re the only human he’s ever dealt with before.
Luckily, for the rest of the day, travel does not get halted again. You manage to keep up just fine, only falling behind once more near sunset. Mingi had wanted to travel for longer this day, covering more distance and hearing no complaints from neither you nor his men. 
The faster they get home, the swifter he can deal with the mess that is you.
Mingi wants nothing to do with you. All you are to him is a pathetic little human. So frail, he could break you with the flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow on your figure as he sees you collapse against the side of a tree, none of his underlings sparing you any supplies as they set up for the night.
No food is offered to you, but you manage to scrounge some water. Your throat burns, and your feet ache as if they’re ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. The stitch in your side is finally calming down, and you’re just grateful none of these fae have ordered you to help them set up camp for the night. No, they stated they didn’t want you touching anything, or doing something wrong, and for once, you’re thanking your lucky stars for such a harsh verdict.
Lightly, you rub at your leg, right where you know that fresh wound still resides. It’s not a deep cut, but twisting wrong, or moving around too much aggravates the scar. Not to mention your limp which has returned even worse than before, due to the speed at which you’re expected to move.
Despite it all, you don’t say anything. No, you learned the hard way what talking back meant. Though, that might just be your one salvation through this all. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll see how far you can push these redcaps, and discover if their nature really lives up to their legacy.
For now, you settle deeper against that tree. It’s late, and you are exhausted. Sleep is one of the best things for you now, especially since there’s no way you can return to the life you previously once had. Thinking back on it now, you don’t know if you’d ever want to.
Not that you really ever had a choice.
The next morning brings another early start, you being commanded to carry even more than yesterday on your back. The only saving grace is that it seems the speed at which the band you’re travelling with has lessoned, but that doesn’t stop your whole body from aching.
Two more days pass like this, insults thrown at you by the surrounding redcaps, only for them to take out their amusement on you by either scratching you by ‘accident’, spitting on you, or pushing you to the ground. You manage to get some food, but it’s both rotten and vile. You’re honestly surprised your body hasn’t given up on you, yet.
You start to complain, but to your relief, or rather, disappointment, no one bothers to take your whining seriously. That, or they’re quick to shut you up, but not in the way you so desperately hope.
It’s around midday when you feel yourself lose your footing. The sun is shining brightly in the sky above your head, a few clouds drifting lazily by as you tumble harshly to the ground. The worst part is, you end up landing badly on your injured side. Unluckily for you, both that scar and your bad ankle are on your right leg which just so happens to land awkwardly on top of the root you tripped over.
You attempt to keep them at bay, but the sudden sharp pain you feel shoot up your leg sends tears to your eyes. You can practically feel your cut tear itself anew, a dampness seeping into the material of your tattered pants. Your breathing is heavy, and you can hardly force yourself back onto your hands, your entire body groaning in protest. Every ache pulses through you with each heartbeat, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is truly the end.
“What’s the hold up this time?” You hear a stern voice huff out above your head.
Mustering enough energy, you tilt your head upwards at the approaching figure. There’s a brief moment where the sun blinds you, filtering through the branches in such a way that burns your vision with a bright light until a shadow looms over you. Blinking reveals the redcap’s general standing before you, a look of pure ire marring his features as he glares down at you.
“Get up.” He growls, not even bothering to nudge you with his foot. You’re too far beneath him to bother.
A sad attempt is made by you once more before you’re collapsing on top of your weakened arms.
“I. Can’t.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.
Mingi snorts. “Pathetic.”
With a roll of his eyes, he storms away from you, barking out orders to set up the encampment. From what you can hear, he plans to move out during the night.
They need to stop to eat, anyways.
Insults are hurled your way by various underlings, some even going so far as to step on you as they walk passed. It’s as if you are worth no more than the dirt beneath their feet as you continue to lay there, weak and injured, just waiting and begging for death to finally claim you.
“You’ve really been a thorn in the general’s side ever since you joined us.” A voice to your left catches your attention.
“I didn’t ask to become a slave.” You retort is half grumbled into the earth, brow furrowing as you glare in the voice’s direction.
A chuckle is heard from above you. “Last I checked, you weren’t actually bound to this group.”
Out of the corner of your vision, you see a male, or rather, what appears to be a male, crouch beside you. He appears a bit shorter than his companions, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than you, and that’s saying something.
“My name’s Windfel,” he says lightly. “I’ve never met a human before. What’s your name?”
“Don’t worry about it,” you huff, finally managing to push yourself upwards and shrug those packs off of your back.
A hiss escapes you as you accidentally apply to much pressure to your right side, hand grasping over where that reopened cut resides. The dull throbbing you can feel, mixed in with the sight of days old blood and dirt only has you wincing. The wound is more than likely infected, and probably has been for the past few days. Only, you don’t have anything to treat it with, and it’s not like you can go around asking for help.
“Oh, you’re more clever than we give you credit for.” He grins. “You must know that telling a fae your true name means they have complete power over you.”
“You’re the ones who assumed me incompetent in the first place.” Your retort is low, and almost immediately, you flinch, as if bracing yourself for an impact of some sorts.
Again, he only chuckles. “That we did.”
“Is there something you want, Windfel?” The question is a bit harsh, despite you avoiding his gaze.
“Not in particular at the moment,” he hums. “I’m simply satisfying a mere curiosity. I’ve read a lot about you humans, thanks to the experiments in the Latha Court.”
“You experiment on humans?” Your eyes widen, a surge of panic washing through you.
“Yes.” He replies, somewhat cheerfully with a nod of his head. “We learn a lot about your kind that way.”
“You’re despicable.” A shudder caresses your spine.
“So I’ve been told.” He grins. “I am a redcap, you know.”
Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice him tip a flat cap stained dark red in your direction.
“I’m aware.” Your answer is blunt as you attempt to stand to your feet. You don’t get very far, for you immediately fall back onto your ass as your arms give out beneath you.
A small ‘oof’ escapes you as you land on your right side, eyes squeezing shut as more tears spring up from beneath where you’ve always tried to hide them.
“You’re not looking so good,” he observes.
“Thanks for noticing.” A low grumble is all he receives in response as you attempt to push yourself upwards once more.
Another chuckle. “I like your sense of humour.”
A side-eyed look is sent his way curtesy of you, “If you want to call it that.”
“Come on, I’ll help you.” He goes to lift you to your feet.
Immediately, you cower away from him, a brief panic filling your gaze as you fixate on his hands.
“I have no intentions of harming you right now.” He replies, somewhat calmly.
“Why are you trying to help me?” You eye him cautiously.
He shrugs. “I’m bored.”
As much as you don’t appreciate his answer, you have no better options. Somewhat reluctantly, you allow him to help you to your feet, guiding you to a tent already prepped and ready. He lifts the flap, allowing you to stumble your way inside and sitting in a chair as per his instruction.
The tent is large enough to fit three people comfortable, appearing more spacious on the inside than from the outside. You suppose it has to do with the magic of the fae, considering they’re able to store everything and carry it so efficiently in such packs, no larger than what you’re used to calling knapsacks.
“You know, you really have caused a great deal of annoyance for our general since your arrival.” He says as he grabs a roll of white medical cloth from a little side table.
“I never asked for this.” You mumble, keeping your head down.
“I’m aware you were brought unconscious into our ranks.” Windfel replies. “Is there a reason for that?”
“Not that I’m obliged to tell you.” Your eyes narrow suspiciously, watching every movement he makes closely.
You highly doubt anyone will come to your aid if you decide to scream for help.
“Just making conversation,” he responds, lifting his hands lightly in front of himself in a shrug. “I’m not a healer, so all I’m willing to do is let you wrap that wound. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to dress it when we get back to the keep.”
You purse your lips, eyeing Windfel as he places the roll of cloth beside you. A moment later, and he’s moving around the tent, rummaging through his own pack and pulling out a fresh pair of clothes.
“What, exactly, is this ‘keep’ you all continuously talk about?” You ask, somewhat warily.
He completely ignores your question, tossing the spare clothes at you.
“I don’t use these anymore, and although we typically enjoy the smell of blood, we don’t enjoy when wounds fester.” His nose crinkles along with his words. “There’s a small stream about a quarter of a mile to the northeast. I’ll take you there once you’re ready.”
“You’re being awful nice to me for someone who doesn’t like my kind,” You observe, eyeing him carefully.
“I care about my general, and anything I can do to… lesson his burdens, I will.” Comes Windfel’s simple reply. “When you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”
You watch him step out the opposite flap of the tent he entered, brow furrowing as the material slaps shut. Shouts can be heard outside, along with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the encampment being set up. You bet the rest wouldn’t have even notice you moved from that tree, yet.
Tilting your head downwards, you look at the clothes in your hand, feeling the fabric between your fingers. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any type of new clothing. Back in the human realm, the only time you got a new piece of clothing was when- no. You shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.
Swallowing thickly, you look over at that roll of white medical cloth. As much as you don’t trust this redcap, this is the first ounce of kindness you’ve received in quite a long time. There’s a part of you screaming at yourself not to believe it, but there’s another part, a part much more vulnerable that clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for you.
Your life has never been worth much, but perhaps someone is actually starting to see value in you that has never been there before. Then again, you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. They’ve fallen too many times for you to count.
Taking a deep breath in, you grab that roll of medical cloth. Carefully, you wrap it in the bundle of clothes from Windfel, and stand back to your feet. Though you wobble slightly, you’re able to steady yourself, and within a minute, you’re exiting through the same flap that redcap did only moments before.
A single nod is all you give him as you stand outside the tent. A single nod of which he returns, motioning for you to follow him deep into the woods.
***
The journey to the stream is slow, taking well over an hour to get there. The distance is much greater than you were expecting, and the path isn’t easy at all. As much as Windfel seems to be ‘helping’ you, he did not once offer you a hand through the rough terrain of the woods through your travels.
“Will there be enough time?” You ask, eyeing the trickling water at the edge of the bank.
“Relax,” Windfel huffs out lightly. “Knowing the general, he’ll probably spend at least another two hours resting. So, as long as you don’t take too long, we’ll be fine.”
You purse your lips in response, but say nothing.
“I have no interest in watching you bathe, either, human.” He says, turning so his back is to you. “So, you needn’t worry about that.”
“I’ve never had much privacy, anyways.” You grumble, but as soon as the words leave your lips, your eyes widen. Terrified, you glance at Windfel’s back.
Choosing to either ignore your statement, or you entirely, he stands there, unmoving, His back is straight as he gazes out into the woods in the direction you both came, paying no mind to even the sound of water trickling behind you.
You turn back around.
Darting your gaze to the stream once more, you notice how clear the water seems to be. The movement against the stones appears languid, a gentle breeze flitting through the trees in the next moment. It’s almost as if the stream is inviting you in, luring you into it’s pristine waters, and the longer you stare at its enchanting depths, the more you long to dip your feet into its calming waters.
“What’s the catch?” You grit your teeth, cursing yourself for being so stupid.
“You humans always think there’s some sort of trick to everything, don’t you?” Windfel chuckles, and suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t even hear him move. “I could push you in, if you like, but I don’t think that would bode well for your wound.”
Your spine straightens. “I can get in myself, thank you very much.”
“You are most welcome.” The way you can practically feel him smile against your back has a shiver running down your spine.
A moment later, his presence at your back lessens, and you find yourself able to breathe easier once more. You spare a glance over your shoulder to see him resting in that same spot as before, his back turned as he begins to hum a small tune to himself. Eyeing him cautiously for a few moments, you finally turn back around to face the stream, deciding that he won’t actually do anything to you. Besides, even you are starting to not be able to handle your own stench, and that’s saying something.
Slowly, carefully, you begin stripping yourself of your old clothes. The tattered shirt you wear gets tossed onto the ground beside the new one, your pants following shortly after. You have enough mind to leave your undergarments on, just in case Windfel decides to play a trick of some sort on you, or run away with both sets of clothes. You still need something to wear, and Windfel is still a man.
Men are never good at keeping their promises. You learned that the hard way.
Stepping towards the very edge of the stream, you take your time sitting down. Each movement is stiff, pain shooting through your right side as you finally get a good look at the cut on your upper leg. 
The wound festers, dried pus caked on the edge. The cut itself is swollen, days old blood littering the skin around it. From how bad it looks, you’re scared to even touch it, but a creeping thought in the back of your mind keeps you inching towards the water with every passing second.
You’ve had worse.
Carefully, you dip your toes into the crystalline water. It’s a bit cool to the touch, and causes you to jerk back, surprised by its icy feel. Yet, it’s alluring in a way, as if it’s the softest of silk that has ever caressed your skin. A luxury you have never been afforded, and you take the time now to savour it, despite the chill that clings to your feet as you submerge them beneath the gentle flow of the stream.
In no time at all, you feel yourself get used to the water’s icy chill, sinking deeper and deeper until you’re fully sitting on the edge of the river bank. Being mindful of your leg, you angle yourself so you can lean towards the water, cupping your hands together in order to gather the cool liquid in your palms and clean your wound.
The first few handfuls sting, but you grit your teeth and bear it. With each handful of water, more and more of the dirt, grime, and blood is washed away, revealing the cut to have gotten longer over the past few days. All that running around must have strained it, and reopened the wound over and over again, leading to the edges widening, and the cut deepening.
No wonder your whole leg has been aching. You just hope the infection isn’t already in your blood. There’s no telling what may happen to you, then.
“Oh my, that looks bad.” 
A voice from above your head startles you, and you nearly go toppling into the stream. Looking up with a hand clutched over your chest, your eyes wide in panic, you see Windfel leaning over you, inspecting your cut.
“A few more days and you would have had to cut it off,” he remarks casually.
You physically feel your heart drop, your eyes briefly shifting to your right ankle. You swallow thickly, a jolt of pain travelling all the way from your foot upwards to your hip as tears unwillingly spring to your eyes. Almost involuntarily, you begin rapidly shaking your head, protests falling from numb lips.
“I’m just shanking ya!” He laughs, boisterously at that. He even goes so far as to pat your shoulder a few times, wiping tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.
“You’re not very funny.” You whisper, expression hard.
Windfel blinks, “Geez, tough crowd.”
You purposely avoid his gaze, looking back out over to the opposite bank of the stream. Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you slowly manage to get your breathing under control. Even you can hear the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat, so you sure as hell know that Windfel can, too.
“I thought you weren’t going to watch me.” You mutter, slowly turning yourself further into the stream.
“No, I said I had no interest in watching you bathe.” He remarks, matter of factly. “There’s a difference.”
“If you say so,” you mutter, slipping into the water and putting a little bit of distance between you and that redcap. Not that it would really matter, in the long run.
The chill of the water causes your body to stiffen for a moment, only for the entirety of your muscles to immediately relax. The chill morphs into a gentle caress, and as you sink down to allow the water up to your neck, you find yourself letting out a small, blissful sigh through your nose. Involuntarily, your eyes slip shut.
“Feels better, doesn’t it?” Windfel hums.
Your eyes shoot open, turning to look over at the redcap who is back to standing in his original spot, facing away from you.
“I-“ you swallow, keeping your voice low. “I haven’t had a chance to bathe like this in a long time.”
“Yeah,” Windfel snorts. “I could tell.”
He makes a gesture similar to fanning the air in front of himself, and you find yourself rolling your eyes. You even go to far as to splash water in his direction before you can stop yourself.
Even though not a single drop of water touches him, your eyes still go wide. Not a muscle moves as you stare at him, your heartbeat thudding once more in your ears.
“Damn, human, you really are uptight.” Windfel snickers. “As if a little water could hurt me. It’s nice when such creatures are playful. Adorable, even.”
“I don’t think many would agree with you.” You mutter, gently pushing yourself backwards and creating just a tiny bit more distance between yourself and him.
“You’re probably right,” he hums. “Though, we all can agree on liking to be amused.”
“You confuse me.” You state blankly, rubbing at your skin lightly beneath the water and washing away any excess dirt and grime you can see.
“The feeling is very much mutual, human.” He replies. “I bet if you lived on your own as long as I have in the wild, you’d feel the same way.”
“Oh, yeah,” you hum, clearly not convinced as you dunk your head under the water briefly. “I’m sure.”
“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you’ve never lived in the woods before? Never fought for your own survival all by you little lonesome?” Windfel’s voice is slightly mocking, and you know he’s probably only trying to get a rise out of you. 
Unfortunately, though, it’s working.
“I think you and I have two very different definitions of survival.” You say, scrubbing a bit harder at your skin.
“Perhaps that is true,” he hums once more, as if considering your words. “But come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to know what it’s like to live on your own.”
“How do you know if I’ve lived on my own or not?” You retort, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.
“I don’t.” Windfel shrugs. “From what those of us who care enough to read about your kind can gather, it’s observed that you usually go out on your own once you reach a certain age.”
“And you’re one of those that have read about my kind?” You quirk a brow. 
The longer you spend talking with Windfel, the more you seem to ease into the conversation. Though the water continues to feel nice around you, you also decide that it’s time to remove yourself from the stream so you can quickly dry off and make it back to the others. The last thing you need is for something to happen, or for you to finally face the wrath of a redcap.
At this point, that may just be a blessing.
There’s almost a slight tug at the back of your mind. With each step you take towards the bank and your awaiting clothes, a small voice tells you to stay. The water seems to be caressing your entire body, becoming denser around you with each step. It’s almost as if the stream is trying to hold you down, to force you to not leave its waters. Yet, despite it’s almost enchanted callings, you persist, managing to pull yourself out of the crystalline water and back onto the side of the bank.
The consequences of staying far outweigh the rewards in your mind.
You fail to notice how Windfel’s brow quirks in surprise, but he continues on the conversation as if nothing is wrong.
“I’ve read a few things, yes.” He confirms. “Knowledge is power, or haven’t you heard?”
“Power is power, no matter where in the world.” You grumble, flicking off as much excess water on your body as you can before beginning to wrap your upper thigh with that medical cloth. Once finished, you tie it off quickly, but not tight enough that it will hurt you even more than you already are. A moment later, you stand back to your feet.
“Spoken like a true scholar,” Windfel teases lightly, his back still turned to you.
Slowly, you begin pulling on the clothes he leant you. The pants are a little short around the ankles, but they fit surprisingly well. Considering the size difference between the both of you, you’re surprised the shirt even managed to pull over your head, but it’s loose, and you’re grateful for the soft material that graces your skin.
“Still, you should definitely try living on your own at some point.” He remarks casually. “There’s no feeling quite like freedom.”
Your whole body freezes, gaze slowly trailing over to where Windfel stands, now at the edge of the wood. He seems to be holding a bundle in his hands, and when you look down, you realize that it’s your old, raggedy clothes.
“I wouldn’t know.” You state, rather firmly as your eyes narrow at the redcap across from you.
“Oh, yes, well,” he finally turns back around to face you, a grin tugging at his lips to reveal all too sharp fangs. “About that…”
“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”
Your words clearly catch him off guard, for now it’s his turn for his eyes to widen in shock.
“My dear, why would I want to kill you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve done nothing but be forced upon us since the start. I may be a monster, but I’m not unreasonable.”
“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.
Again, your breath hitches as soon as the words leave your lips, and you find yourself flinching backwards away from Windfel instinctually.
He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “I told you. I care about my general and how much your presence burdens him. It’s easier this way if you just disappear.”
Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want me to disappear, but not kill me?”
“For the most part.” He blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
“How do you expect me to do that?” You frown, doing whatever you can to hide the clear exasperation in your voice.
“Run away.” He states.
“Excuse me?”
“Run away.” He repeats with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.”
Now, it’s your turn to blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times in disbelief as you cannot keep your mouth from falling open in shock.
“You’re shitting me.”
“I think the whole point of you bathing was for that to no longer be the case.” He says smartly. “I told you. You’re a burden to our general, and if I can relieve that burden from his shoulders, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not currently being hunted, so there’s no reason to kill you right now.”
“And where will I go?” You ask, incredulously. “I have nothing-“
“Find the Latha court, I’m sure those human lovers will take you in.” He cuts you off, a slight twitch to his brow. “Go that way,” he points off to your left with a clawed finger. “There’s a small town. I’m sure someone will give you a hand.”
“Like you did?” You quirk a brow, eyeing Windfel carefully.
“Exactly.” He nods. “Now, you best be on your way, little mortal. My patience is starting to wear thin.”
Though the last part of his words he says in a cheerful voice, the way his eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun unnerves you.
Without waiting for another chance, you take the one presented to you.
“I better not see you around again.” Windfel hums, and you can hear him beginning to trudge in the opposite direction that you are. “You won’t like it if you do.”
A shiver caresses your spine at his words, and you find yourself picking up your pace. Reaching the opposite end of the little clearing where the stream is, you quickly spare a glance over your shoulder. Windfel is nowhere to be seen, and you do not know if it should relieve you, or terrify you. All you do know, is that you have to put as much distance between yourself and that gang of redcaps as you can. To start, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
The trek into town is a lot easier than you thought it would be. It only takes you about forty minutes to reach the outskirts, and with every step, you seem to gain better footing than before. The ache in your leg is dulling, and your head is the clearest it’s been in weeks. You don’t trip over any roots, or stumble over any rocks, either. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say things are actually starting to look up for you.
That’s when it hits you.
Is this even reality anymore?
Windfel could have cast a glamour over you. You could be under some sort of spell, or undergone some weird magic while bathing in that stream. You have no way of knowing what is true or not, unless you talk to someone. Even then, your chances of them tricking you are high, but it may be the only way to tell what is true or not.
Standing at the edge of the town, you do a quick scan of those you can see. The sun has already set, and the faint glow of lanterns casts a warmth around the surrounding buildings. There seems to be only a few people milling about, and honestly, you shouldn’t really call them people at all. From what you can gather, all these beings appear to faeries. Some have grand wings that sprout from their backs, ranging from feathered to those of the insect variety. Others, you can only discern from their height and pointed ears. The few flashes of razor sharp teeth aren’t that reassuring, either.
The only relief seems to be that all of the inhabitants steer perfectly clear of you. Save for one, who watches you fidget from across the way. His gaze dances with amusement, and you don’t know if that unnerves you more than if he were glaring. Long, dark hair is pulled back in a half-ponytail to showcase his sharp features. He sits on the edge of some steps leading up to what appears to be a shop of some sorts, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forward.
The moment he catches you staring, his eyebrows quirk curiously.
Turning away quickly, you curse yourself. You’ve always been used to blending in back home, that you didn’t realize just how much you’d stick out in the Fae realm. Perhaps you really are in over your head, but where else are you supposed to go?
A voice, smooth and deep, coming from behind startles you.
“Are you lost, Little One?”
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roosterforme · 4 months
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Adult Education Part 15 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Jessica knows Jake is sorry for losing it on Brian, but now she has once again started to dread going to work. Things had been looking up, and she desperately needed that hopeful feeling back. But a chance run-in with Brian's wife and one well timed email might just be the start of something good.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, mention cheating, 18+
Length: 3500 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Every day that Jessica woke up and got ready for work felt like she was making herself look presentable for her own execution. She hadn't slept well after Tuesday evening when she went home and cried after Jake punched Brian in the face. He offered to stay with her, but she told him she needed some time to herself. And now she was in a cycle of dreading every minute of work, just like before.
She'd had these soft glimmers of hope over the last few months. She had made a new friend, she had a boyfriend who she was falling in love with, and she absolutely nailed the fraternity fundraiser. Everything was looking so hopeful, but she should have known there was no way she could have it all if Brian was involved. Especially since it looked like he had a broken nose on Thursday morning.
She thought she was going to throw up when he looked at her. Any minute, Dean Walters or someone from his office would be knocking on her door, asking what exactly had possessed her boyfriend to punch the head of the science department.
But it never came. And the anticipation was just making it worse. When she heard someone tapping on her door, her stomach lurched as she sank a little lower in her seat. "Come in," she called out, her voice wavering. When the door eased open, she was surprised to see her friend standing there. "Advanced Calculus," she muttered, leaning back in her seat and taking a deep breath.
"I brought you some coffee," the other woman said as she closed the door behind her. "And I also came to ask you why the hell you didn't tell me that Jake punched Conley in the damn face!"
When Jessica looked at her again, she just shook her head. "I don't want to talk about it."
She set down the coffee cup and said, "You don't have to talk about it, because I already know all about it, because Jake won't shut up about it to Bradley. He thinks he fucked everything up with you. He thinks you're mad at him."
Jessica let her forehead rest on her desk. If she tried to say she wasn't avoiding Jake, she would be lying. "I think I just need to deal with the repercussions on my own. But I'll text him back." She reached for her phone and looked at the most recent message from him. Hey, Smart Girl. I'd love to bring dinner to your office hours, but only if you want me to.
"Wait. What repercussions?" the other woman asked as she took a seat with her own drink. "You don't think this will fall back on you? Do you?"
"How could it not? Have you seen Brian's face?"
She snorted. "I sure fucking did. I came up here more or less to congratulate you for making Jake fall in love with you so hard that he did that for you."
Jessica's heart pounded in response, and she knew her eyes were wide. Jake hadn't said that to her yet, and she hadn't either, but she felt like it was right there. "He just punched him all of a sudden. I didn't ask him to or anything."
"I know. That's the whole point. He couldn't let someone be shitty to you. I just knew Jake had it in him."
Jessica looked down at her phone again and decided to stop avoiding someone who made her so happy. I would love it if you brought me dinner.
His response came almost instantly, letting her know that he would be there. She felt a little better as she looked at her friend. "Thanks for the coffee." But she waved it off and shrugged. "I also wanted to stop by and tell you that everyone is still talking about your fratraiser. They all loved it."
Jessica wanted to love it, too. It has been the perfect night until Brian showed up. "Thanks. I still want to stop in and talk to Dean Walters about it, but I was trying to wait until things with Brian blew over."
"You should definitely talk to Walters," she replied as she stood to leave.
Jessica was tired of hesitating all the time, so she asked, "Do you want to have lunch together today?"
"Can't," she replied with a grimace. "I promised Dr. Rosenthal that I'd look at curriculum with him again."
"Tenure must be so nice," Jessica replied wistfully. "Not that I'll ever know."
Before she slipped out the door, the other woman said, "I'm still holding out hope, and you should, too."
Hours later, Jessica was still considering those words when she took a little break before the start of her office hours. She had been hiding at her desk, looking for a birthday gift for Jake, when she started yawning. With her office hours spread out like a gauntlet in front of her, she decided to quickly grab another coffee from the lounge. She would need it to get through a tutoring session with Luca.
But as soon as she walked through the door, she was met with Brian, and he had his arm wrapped around the same teaching assistant she saw him with before. The one he was most definitely sleeping with. His face looked terrible as the bruising had spread out from his crooked nose, giving him two black eyes. Jessica was sure the glare he was sending her way must be painful for him at the moment, and she had to try her hardest not to laugh. Apparently he was in full scumbag mode now, because he didn't even bother to separate from the TA as Jessica waffled next to the door, undecided if she should stay and make some coffee or not.
"Did you need something, Dr. Reed?" he snapped, his voice extra nasally.
The mere sound of his tone was enough to make her regret coming down here. "No, actually. I'll just leave you to your...business." She turned and left them, hoping she still had a can of Coke in her mini fridge that would suffice. And that was when she almost ran directly into Sabrina Conley.
Jessica recognized her immediately, and she could tell Brian's wife remembered her as well. A chill rippled along her entire body as she felt the woman appraising her with a hateful scowl. "Are you the reason my husband's face is a mess?" she asked, venom lacing every word. Convinced this week couldn't get any worse, Jessica stood frozen, completely unsure what she should say. Was it her fault? Or was it Brian's? Or maybe it was Jake's fault? She just wanted to hide in her office again and cry.
Sabrina took a step closer, her voice somehow more scathing as she said, "Can you at least tell me where he is?"
Jessica nodded, a jerky motion, as she pointed behind her and said, "In the lounge." It was a few seconds before she fully realized what she had done, and by that point it was too late. Sabrina had already disappeared around the corner, and then Jessica heard an angry shriek.
--------------------------
It had been two solid days since Jake saw Jessica, and this was the proof he needed. Seeing her every day had become a necessity. It hurt that she'd distanced herself a little bit after the incident with Brian, even though he could understand that she probably just needed a little space and time. But the irrational side of his brain was running completely wild.
"I fucked up the best relationship I have ever had," he groaned in the locker room on base.
"No, you didn't," Bradley replied with an eye roll. "Or... maybe you did. Maybe Jessica is out on a date with Dev at this very moment."
Jake glared in response. "It's 5:30 on a Thursday. She just finished a lecture, and she's getting ready for her office hours. She's not anywhere with Dev."
Bradley smirked as he got dressed in one of his hideous shirts. "You have her entire schedule memorized. That's so cute."
"You have your wife's entire schedule memorized," Jake retorted.
"That's right. Dr. Tits is finishing up her linear algebra lecture right now which means I can pick her up on my way home. Unless we take a detour to the library," he muttered, and Jake decided to tune him out. He needed to stop home and grab the food he made yesterday in the hope that Jessica would want him to stop by tonight.
He would make this all up to her. If she was somehow in some shit at work because of him, he would have to try to fix it. So he picked up the little individual containers of chicken, mashed potatoes and vegetables along with some ice packs. But his condo was so quiet, he was anxious to leave again. He was hoping Jessica would want to spend the weekend here with him, cooking and reading some journals. Making love and watching a movie. Really anything she wanted to do.
He drove his new truck to campus and parked, knowing he was right in the middle of her office hours and not wanting to intrude if she was working with Luca or someone else. So he went slowly up the walkway past Chippy's and crossed the street to the science building. If he saw Brian, he would stay calm this time. He wouldn't fuck anything up worse for his girlfriend.
When he reached her office, the door was closed, and he heard a soft conversation inside, prompting him to wait his turn. He was hoping it was Luca. He already felt the rage building inside of him over the fact that it could be Brian again. But then the door opened, and a skateboard hit the floor in front of him, and Jake smiled.
As Luca skated away, Jessica launched herself at his chest, and Jake welcomed her, dropping his cooler bag on the floor. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly as she buried her face in his neck and held onto him. "I missed you."
"I don't know," she whispered. "I just know I missed you, too." She started backing up, pulling him into her office, and he reached to pick up the bag of food.
When she guided him to her desk chair, he was delighted that she pushed him down before sitting on his thigh. Jake's hands went to her waist, and she came to rest against his chest with a sigh. Maybe she wasn't so upset with him after all.
He kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered again. He'd said it so many times. "I'm sorry I punched him."
"I know you are. It's okay, Jake. Part of me is absolutely delighted that you did that," she told him as she ran her fingers along his name tag. "Because he deserved it." She swallowed hard, and when she spoke again, he could barely hear her. "Brian's wife was here today, and she walked in on him alone with one of the department TAs in the lounge. I'm sure it was as obvious to her as it is to me that he's sleeping with her now."
"Shit," he grunted, stroking her jaw with his fingers before brushing them through her hair. "If he got caught again, then he deserved it."
She nodded. "I don't know why I feel guilty that I was the one who told her he was in the lounge."
Jake's fingers froze. "You feel guilty? Baby, the only one who should feel guilty about anything is Brian.""I know that," she whispered. "I do know that. But Sabrina has been through enough, and I've been feeling bad for her for the past year."
She needed a break, and Jake knew it. "That's understandable, but it's still not your fault. I think you should come spend the weekend at my place and let me take your mind off things."
Jessica tilted her face to look at him. "How are you going to do that?"
He kissed her forehead again as he said, "By cooking for you and kissing you and reading journals with you." Her soft moan had him pressing his luck. "We could pick out some journals right now, and I could have them ready for when you come over tomorrow after work. You worked really hard on your fundraiser, and you deserve a break this weekend."
"Jake," she groaned. "That sounds perfect." The fact that she was curling up on him and yawning now let him know she was exhausted. And if Brian's wife was on campus earlier today, then there was a good chance she was upset that her husband's face was all bruised. He needed to take Jessica's mind off of this shit.
"I'll go grocery shopping tonight, and then the whole weekend is whatever you want it to be, Jess."
--------------------------
On Friday morning, when she ran down the hallway and into her office, Jessica turned on her computer. While it started up, she grabbed a few more journals from her shelf to take to Jake's place. Her plan was to leave right from campus to spend the weekend with him, her overnight bag already in her trunk. When she logged in to check her university email, she had to read over the newest message three times to believe it.
Dr. Reed, I realize this is very short notice, so please allow me to apologize in advance. Dr. Conley is taking a short leave of absence, and in an effort to keep disruption to a minimum, there is an immediate need for professors who are willing to step in and teach some of his courses. Due to conflicting schedules, you are the only PhD in the science department who can advise his Senior Studies class on Wednesday afternoons. I know this will be an additional workload if you are willing to take it, so we can discuss compensation on Monday. However, if you are willing, please let me know today so I can finalize this schedule. It would be much appreciated. Sincerely, Dean Corbin Walters
"Oh shit," Jessica gasped. Brian was taking a leave of absence? And not only was the dean not upset with her, he was asking her to take one of Brian's classes? "Holy shit." She lunged for her keyboard and typed up a response so quickly, she had to read it three times to fix the spelling errors. Her heart was pounding, because she would have been willing to do this even without the extra compensation.
And now she sat back in her chair, wondering exactly what had happened with Brian's wife. The anticipation was going to eat her alive, but she had a quantum physics lecture to hold. First she added a note to her calendar to call Dean Walters' office and schedule a meeting for Monday.
By the time Jessica was leaving campus on Friday afternoon, she had a meeting scheduled with the dean. She also took the time to update and recalculate all of her grades, and Luca was finally passing. She rode down the elevator with a smile on her face, knowing Brian wasn't on campus, lurking around a corner, ready to give her a hard time. Instead she walked out to her car in her heels with her head held high.
Her stomach was growling, but she knew Jake would feed her all weekend. He would take care of everything. She wouldn't have to scrape together any sad meals or plan her lessons through next semester just for something to do. She was allowed to enjoy herself when she was with her boyfriend. She was allowed to let her feelings grow deeper.
Of course she wasn't disappointed when she knocked on the front door of his condo, and the door swung open to reveal him in an undershirt and gray sweatpants, the smell of something delicious wafting to meet her.
"Baby, you should call me from the parking lot next time," Jake drawled, reaching for her. "It's getting dark outside, and I don't want you walking around alone."
Jessica whimpered as he pulled her inside and locked the door. Of course she thought he was being a little dramatic, but she appreciated him nonetheless. "Okay, next time I'll call you." She barely got the last word out as his lips met hers. Her palm slid over the roughness of the stubble starting to grow in on his cheek before she pushed her fingers back through his hair.
"You're really not upset with me?" he asked softly, eyes closing to her touch.
"No," she promised. "I just needed some time to think about things, but I'm not upset with you."
It was all a seamless motion as Jake scooped her up by her thighs and backed up until he was sitting on his couch with her on his lap. "I missed you," he whispered, squeezing her legs and hips gently.
She laughed as he kissed her neck. "You saw me yesterday."
"It wasn't enough." His voice sounded a little rougher.
She tugged on his hair until his lips were hovering against hers. "It was less than a day ago."
His nose bumped hers as his hands tightened around her waist. "Well apparently I can't go that long, Jessica."
She could feel his cock hardening through his sweatpants, and the more she tugged on his hair, the raspier his voice seemed to get. His green eyes were so pretty and eager, and she wanted him right now. Her skirt was already bunched up on her thighs, so she took his hands in hers and used them to push the fabric the rest of the way up to her waist.
A little smirk formed his lips as she said, "I can't go another minute."
Jake grunted and shook his head before his eyes trailed down to where she knew her rose colored thong was on display for him, and he swiped one long index finger up along her clit. "Jake!" she gasped, grinding down on his cock. He did it again, and she rolled her hips again. "Oh my god."
With one hand, Jake hooked her underwear to the side, and the cool air met her wet core. With his other hand, he tugged himself free of his sweats and his underwear, his thick cock standing at attention for her. She didn't hesitate as she sank down around him, making him groan loudly. One slow roll of her hips, and she was groaning too. Just when she was getting a good rhythm going, her lips met his neck, and his phone alarm started blaring in his pocket.
"Shit," he grunted, stilling her movements with one hand on her butt as he mashed his fingers against his phone screen. "I'm making you a chicken pot pie, and I don't want it to burn." He stood with Jessica fully seated on his cock, and she grabbed at his hair and his neck as she wrapped her legs around his waist, losing one high heel as he walked.
"Fuck! Jake!" she nearly screamed, clenching around him with each step he took.
"Hang on, Baby," he whispered, setting her on the island before turning away from her to reach for his pot holders. She was whimpering for more as soon as he was gone, but she was treated to the sight of him removing the pie from the oven before tossing the pot holders on the floor and rushing back to her, his wet cock bobbing along. "I got you."
He was back where she wanted him with one sharp thrust, and the look of concentration on his face as he worked her up made her smile. "You liked it when I was walking, didn't you?"
All she had to say was, "Yes," and he had her up off the island again. She lost her second shoe as he grinned and walked around the island, rubbing the spot deep inside of her that made her ache with need. "Yes." She was a mess, clinging to him and making ridiculous sounds while he walked her back through the kitchen. And then she was clenching around his cock, with her lips to his ear, but when she saw the dinner he made for her, she came. She whined his name, one long, loud syllable.
Next thing she knew, he had her back pressed up against the refrigerator, magnets clattering to the floor as he got some leverage and thrust into her with all his weight. "Jessica," he growled, nudging her glasses with his nose and squeezing her butt. Then he filled her up with his cum, his cheeks flushed and his eyes half lidded.
Jake kissed along her lips as he murmured, "Let me feed you dinner, Smart Girl. And then we can do anything you want as long as you don't leave my side." --------------------------
Could things be looking up? I mean, Jake can't really be blamed, right? And it looks like scumbag Brian is found out once again. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 16
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