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hwaightme · 9 months

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Bonnie on the side

THIS IS 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI FOR STAR'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut)

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🏩 pairing: businessman!cheater!seonghwa x fem!reader 🏩 genre: smut, pwp, angst, slight fluff? ish? 🏩 summary: you could never escape park seonghwa, every business trip turning into an excuse to fall deeper, leading you to consider a role laden with sacrifice, lies and one that you never in a million years thought you would, nor could take. 🏩 wordcount: 4.7k 🏩 warnings/tags: language, edited? funny, explicit cheating, secret-keeping, grey line between lust and love, hwa has a female fiancée (she/her pronouns), rich businessman hwa with a black card, hotel manager!reader, lmk if anything 🏩 a/n: this in no way represents seonghwa <3 i just over-listened to the song 'sad girl'. i appreciate you all, any and all reblogs, notes, thoughts appreciated, much love! 🏩 playlist: sad girl by lana del rey, illicit affairs by taylor swift, fine line by harry styles, say yes to heaven by lana del rey, love is a bitch by two feet, salvatore by lana del rey, midnight love by girl in red

🏩 nsfw tags: soft dom!hwa, sub-leaning!reader, mention of multiple rounds, no protection (wrap before you tap), mention of the pill, hwa is rough but verbally loving, sweat (and other fluids), cumshot inside, overstim implied, intimate sex, needy as hell, mention of tears and begging, petnames (darling, love, good girl), praise, fucks the love into reader, implied cheating as a possible turn on

When you locked eyes with the owner of the black card, you knew that there was no easy way out. His eyes, fiery, sharp, alluring bore into your flesh and burned the man’s features into your brain. It was obvious that he would haunt you, be it in the waking world or as soon as you would succumb to a turbulent and short-lived slumber. He would be there. Always. Try as you might, there was no escaping him; in the end, even prey was honoured to be a sacrifice to the beast.

“All done, Mister Park Seonghwa, we hope you enjoy your stay with us at Hotel Horizon. My colleague here shall guide you to your room, and your bags will be following suit.”

You bowed, the angle and positioning of your shoulders and arms having been drilled into you after years of practice and execution. In the early days, the gesture would have given you strain; now it was not even second, but primary and central nature. And a method of avoiding his gaze, much to your fortune. Both hands outstretched and holding the card by its very edge so as to not make contact and maintain utmost respect, you waited for the businessman to retrieve it. It seemed that he was waiting for something, but you did not dare check. Not until you could rid yourself of the pesky item and move on to giving him the pass to his room. This was going to be a long morning. After what felt like minutes of motionlessness, you lifted your head slightly, only to see that he had not ceased his observations, still trained on you, though without a hint of malice nor lewdness. Merely more present than anyone else in the hall, or the city, for that matter. The scrutiny reminded you more of how one would study a painting or a statue in a museum, without much of an opinion nor goal in mind. Simply existing in the same space, convincing you that you were existing to be perceived by him. The thought sent a chill down your spine which you only just managed to suppress, though it appeared that the minute pursing of your lips was enough of a reaction for Seonghwa to take the cursed card from your now weak hold, and give you a dazzling, albeit slightly tired smile.

“Thank you, Miss�� L/N Y/N. I really appreciate it,” the timbre of his voice caused the phrase to reverberate in your head, making your name sound much more important than it had ever been. Even on your own passport. You gave him a grin - one that was approved by your employer and by the common standards of high end hotels, and refused the gratitude. Just like you had to. Just like you wouldn’t behind closed doors.

The uniform shirt felt tight, the tie was transforming into a noose around your neck, and the air conditioning was doing nothing to help combat the rising heat. Hellfire surrounded you, and was beginning to consume you. Your fellow hotel staff were somewhere far away and ignorant of the inferno, though physically close. Like clockwork, they were little soldiers parading and doing exactly what had to be done. Nothing more, but most importantly, nothing less. Such was the standard at Hotel Horizon, and it was something that you had always been proud of when you were at your best and most professional. But now you were crumbling, and with every visit by the same temptation, you were losing yourself more and more. If only you could return to being that bright-eyed and bushy-tailed new joiner who still knew nothing about the world, building castles in the sky and making the hotel life your everything. It was easier then, without the harsh reality of wanting more, and wishing for the most beautiful bird flying close to the heavens, rather than holding your own little sparrow dear in your hands and nurturing it. You let go of your soul’s freedom so thoughtlessly, and sinfully loved every second of it. Would you do it again? Most certainly. You knew you were going to do it again. That same night.

You adjusted your vest discreetly, pulling on the bottom edges until you felt a light friction against your chest. In a fraction of a second, you were back to your removed self, dutifully completing your tasks until the pass, and the spare pass were both on their journey into the breast pocket of Seonghwa’s suit jacket. He tilted his head as he gazed into your orbs. It was not too challenging to read him, judging by the expectation written all over his features. He was rehearsing how he would ‘dispose of’ the spare key. Both of you had done this before, and the shared secret was another sweet taboo that you missed when Seonghwa was not around. After his visit to the rooftop bar where he would get his usual mocktail, it would be left in the large floral arrangement, in the statement vase down the corridor from Seonghwa’s room where the cameras did not reach - you had checked on multiple occasions, and never brought up the issue even though it was a security risk. It was a guarantee of safety for you and for him, and that made it more than worth it.

“Not a problem. If you require any assistance or room service, do not hesitate to call the numbers provided in the pamphlet,” it was a struggle to not chuckle at your choice of words - room service. Were you going to be room service? Have you always been?

Seonghwa, however, did not appear to find your approach comical, instead taking it literally, remaining immersed in his role. He had always been a brilliant actor, or so you were partial to believing. You had the chance to witness his mastery when his fiancée had called on a couple of occasions some time ago, normally when she was somewhere abroad, and had a total disregard for time zones. Most likely, should anyone ever ask her, Seonghwa had insomnia and incredible stress, and ‘had meetings early the next day so he had to hang up to catch at least a couple of hours of sleep’. According to you, it was when he was tangled in the sheets at Horizon that he was himself, and he could let go of at least a fraction of the dulling pressures of his otherwise daily catastrophe. And no, he did not have meetings. At least not until a much more reasonable hour. And if he did, he was perfectly fine tuning in from the comfort of the hotel. The rolling of the eyes, the tightening of his lower jaw right before he answered the phone call with a ‘sweetie’; it made you want to laugh hysterically, loudly, right in her face - one which was at the forefront of your mind ever since you finally figured out her full name.

“Thank you. Have a lovely evening, Miss Y/N.”

“Thank you,” you were practically shivering as he turned on his heels, following one of your colleagues towards the elevators. Though he was not directly inspecting you anymore, his glances still haunted you, littering your skin with burns.

All you could hear was how the rubber soles of his chunky dress shoes hit the marble floors, and all you could bear to witness was the swaying of his hips, the delicate curve that marked his phenomenal waistline that you were dying to grab, concealed only by the onyx jacket, along with a black shirt that was teasingly semi-translucent, with cutouts hinting at your favourite body, at the most angelic, yet downright sinful being who was a repeating graceful fall in your life. When Seonghwa turned to wait by the elevator doors for the familiar ‘ding’, making idle chat with the bellboy, he did not hesitate to look back at you and give you a nod, accompanied with the ghost of a smile - forever yours, Park Seonghwa. You pulled at your vest again, longing to be out of it, ablaze. Time was cruel, seconds trickling like lazy grains of sand in an hourglass, as many as there were buttons on your lover’s shirt, and yet it was still too long. So much for living in the now, when all you wanted was for the clocks to speed on ahead, and then freeze only when you commanded them. Mid-tryst, mid-secret. That way, there surely would no risk of anyone finding out why Seonghwa picked this hotel every time he visited, how by some mysterious coincidence, you were at front desk on the day he would register, and how, every time, you appeared to be pleasantly surprised, though not nearly enough to be total strangers.

With danger came a different kind of high, you had realised as you guided yourself back to your responsibilities, hiding behind a facade, and once you had gotten a taste of the concept of ‘getting away’ and not being caught, you were addicted to it just as much as you were to the one you blamed. When you got a moment to yourself, with another staff member who had been tasked with checking guests in bidding you farewell to have a quick break, you immediately shut your eyes and massaged your temples. It was going to be a long night. You tilted your head side to side, not exactly needing to stretch but making an appearance - for others except one you were void of ardent emotion; for others except one you did not think, operating exclusively by the work manual, impeccably executing every action down to the tiniest detail. Just like you would stealthily make your journey to take your place as his one and only for the night. Check in. Check out.

He liked to bear witness to the disaster he caused. That was how you found yourself pinned against the bed, with Seonghwa having intertwined his hands with yours, knuckles turning white, cotton fabric imprinting itself to decorate scalding hot skin. He set a languid, but lethal pace that made the chunky silver necklace he wore slap against his neck. Each thrust was deeper than the previous one, ruining what piece of dignity you had left. He muffled your whines and ecstasy-driven cries with his plush lips, kissing away the tiny traces of the waking day. With him, you were the night itself, biting into the forbidden fruit without hesitation. Seonghwa was the serpent, Seonghwa was the angel. In the throes of passion, the visions blended into one and all you were left with was the ability to stare back at his face, glistening with sweat, and even that was failing you. The world was a blur, and you wanted to be absorbed by it.

The beautiful, albeit troubled man could not get enough. He never could. Greedy, gluttonous, lustful, you spun threads out of his demons and made them all rise to the surface, possessing him for as long as you were around. Seonghwa could sense that you would be his undoing from the first time you had captured his attention - and he was not wrong. Before you, something like an affair was out of the question. Now, it felt as though it was you he was betraying every time he had to leave. A bead of moisture travelled down from his forehead, disappearing into his dark tresses that flew to and fro as he rolled his hips, guiding his throbbing member in and out of your wetness with practised mastery. When he leaned back to admire your tearful expression, entirely given up for him and only him, he could not help but leave a trail of feverish pecks across your jawline, to your ear, giving it a couple of nips before whispering:

“I missed you so much, darling.”

You could only mewl in response as he angled himself to directly hit your sweet spot, in turn making him groan when your walls clenched, begging for Seonghwa’s release. The rising stimulation made you even more vocal, and you were struggling to find support with how he pushed you into the sheets. He sensed your wriggling and let go of your hands, nudging you with his nose. The sweet aroma of sex and Black Opium filled your clouded mind, and you threw your arms around your lover, crying out his name. The action made him speed up, pistoning his cock into your dripping cunt as best as he could in the intimate position. In these moments he wondered how he possibly could ever look away from you, from your presence in his life, only to return to a palette of low contrast greys and a numbing dullness.

You bucked upwards when he thrusted into you with particularly satisfying aggression, prompted by a building anticipation of a carnal collapse. Sweet nothings blended with rage, filth with innocent musings as strained whines became your new, and his favourite language. A strand of hair, almost the length of his impeccable face stuck to his temple, the dampness, prompted by animalistic exertion turning into an accessory fitting of a divine performer, actor, demigod. While you could only just make out his shameless regard, the concealed emotionality consumed the last of your inhibitions. When you were connected, body and soul, he wanted to take this as a chance to reveal every inch, every thought that had ever passed by him. You read each one, praying for this exchange to last forever.

“Hwa-a-” you forced out, one hand falling to grasp the bedsheets while the finger dug into his flesh, careful not to turn inwards lest your nails leave a mark.

How you mumbled his name as though it was the only thing you knew for certain, the syllable transforming into a universe you two had constructed for yourselves in the walls of The Horizon, sent its owner into overdrive. He could never escape you, nor would he ever wish to. You were his Garden of Eden, his beginning. Initially, he had been attracted to your cold resolve, your reserved nature, your resistance. Now, he would give up the world, sell his assets, become no one for the opportunity to see you at your most free. He was lost in your glossy eyes, wanted to worship how your lashes fluttered as you took him so terrifically. After meeting you, he had no challenges in understanding what ‘being made for another’ meant.

Seonghwa’s pants were your favourite music, and as more and more began to escape his reddened lips, overwhelming heat rushed to your core, causing you to throw your head back onto the messy pillows. Because of how he was hovering close to you, motion a sensory bliss, every stroke brushed against your aching clit before fading into unparalleled pleasure that you were floating in. You were breathless, on the verge of giving out, and judging by Seonghwa’s carnal grunts, and a string of curses moaned low, barely audible, he was in the same state. Together, as you always wished.

The velocity at which his high was approaching turned him to ruin. Roughly, he lifted your lower half by hooking you under the thighs and pulled you impossibly close. You let out a choked yelp when his hips pressed flush against yours, his length swallowed up by your hole.

“Fuck, so perfect, baby, just for- ah, me-”

“Yes, yes, yes-” you chanted, voice high-pitched and airy as you accelerated towards your undoing.

“Wrap your legs around me, darling, I want to see you- shit yeah, just like that-”

You obeyed, shuffling to satisfy your lover. A hand landed on your lower abdomen as he began violently jackhammering into you, intoxicated from the feeling of the moving bulge. Lifting it, Seonghwa could not take his gaze off the sight, instead pulling you lower until he could sense his dick rubbing against your walls with even greater intensity. He moaned and doubled over, going faster, wishing nothing more than to permanently claim you. You could no longer make a sound, mouth opening and closing mutely, echoes of a name, unspoken worship caught in your throat.

“Sounds, darling, let me hear those pr- ah- pretty sounds,” he instructed, flying to hold onto your thighs as he relished in the squelching of your nectar leaking around him.

“Fu- I- I am-”

“About to?”

“Uh-huh-”

“Such a good girl, Y/N, that’s right, come for me-”

You did not need to be told twice; you shuddered, your body almost giving out and limbs turning into nothing more than a melted mass. The electricity that had been building within you crackled repeatedly, igniting your every muscle and leaving you a shaking mess, at the mercy of Seonghwa’s every gesture, every move. Suspended in oblivious bliss you listened to the lewd symphony of the bed’s swaying, Seonghwa’s balls slapping against you, and the sensation of your cunt pulsating around him, begging for more despite you being sure you could not take it. Arousal coated his cock and squirted out of you as the stunning man continued to chase his own orgasm, running down his toned thighs and onto the sheets below. You wailed, legs shaking with more vigour as he mercilessly pounded into you.

“Baby, I’m so close-”

“Inside,” you moaned, met with a particularly deep thrust and a searching expression. Using one hand Seonghwa cupped your chin, struggling to maintain a steady rhythm. Evidently, he was already holding back, rather than accumulating.

“W-what did you say?”

“I said, I wa-ant you to come inside me, Hwa,”

“Are you sure?”

“Y-yes I am on the pill,”

“Oh, darling-” he could not help but kiss you, his hair tickling your cheeks. When he moved back, letting you arch back into a more comfortable position, you could help but notice how much darker his orbs seemed to have gotten, “...fuck you so full with my cum you’ll be leaking until I can do this again, baby, is that what you want?”

“Y-ye-s-” you ignored the pang of melancholia that the phrase arose within your heart, biting hard on your lip when Seonghwa collided with you.

A guttural moan, more gorgeous than anything you had ever heard filled your ears, reverberated in your cranium. Hot, viscous fluid coated your inner walls, painting them a delicious white and mixing with your slick. After a few more stuttering drives of his softening length into your sopping pussy, Seonghwa threw his head back, a few tiny beads of sweat - like diamonds, launching themselves into the darkness. It was then and there that you were sure you had witnessed divinity.

Gently removing himself - the soothing nature of his actions so astonishingly far removed from his earlier treatment, he sighed in delight at how the ropes of cum leaked out of your used hole, coating your folds, claiming you as exclusively his for the night. Seonghwa ran two fingers over the masterpiece, watching how the sticky juices formed strings of translucent white as he spread them apart. He climbed over to you, gesturing for you to open your mouth and smiling when you did without question.

“This is us, darling, care to give it a taste?”

As he watched you take his digits and suck on them with an adorable diligence, he realised it was doing little to abate his lust and longing for you. More, he always needed more, he concluded, pushing his tip against your stimulated bud with a sigh.

“Stay.”

“You know I can’t,” as soon as the words left your mouth, you were taken aback by the comical nature of the exchange. How funny it was that the two simple phrases held so much gravity, and could be said by either of you. Rearrangement of the variables still brought the same result.

You continued to roll your tights up your legs which were tired after a spontaneous second round, careful to not tear at the material, while Seonghwa pierced your back with his searing stare. There was no need in turning to check on how he was positioned - the visage was intoxicating enough that you could draw it from memory. Hair, a hint of wave in otherwise impeccably smooth strands was styled by passion itself - a tousled fantasy. Glint of the necklace - a refined detail of the artwork that was he. Permanently sunkissed skin of his bare torso and toned arms was exposed to you, a last attempt of luring you back into the devil’s soothing grasp - one that you were sure that if you were to come back to, you would never leave. It would be a lapse of judgement to overstay your lack of welcome if you were hoping, at least partially, to see Seonghwa again. He was propping himself up, elbow digging into the mattress while the other rested on the waist that you adored to embrace, but could do only under the cover of the night that graciously chose to remain oblivious to your amorous ruses. His plush lips, still slightly reddened after the hungry kisses that made them all the more appealing. His nose - regal, elegant, that brushed against you sending electric shock after shock over your body. His eyes - deathly afraid to say goodbye, and yet never failed to contain the melancholy of parting. In these moments when you were tugging on your uniform, each article of clothing being a step closer to a mundane grayscale existence made from routines and systems in which you were nothing more than a pawn, you despised them, and had to mentally shake yourself and hurl yourself towards the life you were supposed to be leading.

“I think about you always,” he stated so casually that you almost paid it no mind, until a rustling preoccupied your senses. Seonghwa was moving, and from the dipping of the mattress, you could only conclude that he was stalking towards you. You needed to disappear, and fast.

This was a constant game between you and him, except a couple of ‘times’ ago, you stopped believing that there was to ever be a winner. It was clear as day that you were two broken hearted people, with your own paths, your own wounds, searching for an escape in whatever form you could encounter. You knew that Seonghwa was seeking a reciprocation, a ‘likewise’ or an ‘I think about you too’ spilling over the edge and into the intimate, illicit abyss. Who did not want to feel wanted? You smiled to yourself as you finally finished with the tights and took to buttoning up your shirt.

A hand rushed to grab yours, prying your fingers away and reducing your instructions to nil, while the other pulled at the closest shirt sleeve to expose your shoulder. With a sigh, Seonghwa peppered kisses over you, over every curve and edge, upwards towards your neck, paying special attention to the area that would let him earn his most wanted response from you. You bit your lower lip and froze, resisting the urge to turn around, grab a fistful of his hair and sink back into a forbidden paradise. He was not giving up, noticing that you were no longer dressing nor pushing him away, and snaked an arm around you, forcing you to lean back into him. His breath was hot against you, the only thing you could feel aside from the dizzying taste of his lips, his teeth, the tip of his tongue grazing supple and sensitive skin.

“Hwa…” you whispered, stifling a moan as your deviant lover sucked at the base of your neck, insatiable.

“Hm?” his hum was sweet, sweet music, and you tilted your head back only to fall into him.

“There’s no time,” you tried, and made an honest rock forwards, only for your motion to be blocked, and for Seonghwa’s fervour to climb. Trepidation and inklings of a craving sparked behind your ribs, and you gripped the bedsheets exposed between your legs to retain the last ounce of sanity.

“There’s always time,”

“Not for us,”

“Then this can be our forever,” he twisted you more, kissing away your retorts and anguish.

Cutting it close, you skillfully made an exit before early inspections and rounds, perfectly filling your role as manager once more and occupying the same spot by registrations thanks to convenient scheduling manipulations and falsified benevolence towards some colleagues who were not too fond of the task. Your goal was simple - you wanted to be the one to greet one particular guest.

It took longer than expected, and check in was almost over for the day when you saw the figure, and then the face of the person who you had been looking forward to meeting with a twisted, borderline disturbing excitement. She was all that you had assumed you would encounter based on the brief mentions and your less than brief perusal of social media and articles that described the financially prompted engagement, arranged to complete a function that was above any kind of love. You did not exist for her, just like Seonghwa ensured that she did not exist for you. It was comfortable, searching for her gaze which could not settle on any one place - unlike the man you had been making love to only a few hours ago. The fluttering wings of a seasonal butterfly, all yammer, no substance. It was impossible to discover an apology within your tainted inner world, let alone guilt. You added her name to the relevant number, issuing a pass and saying the same phrases with robotic politeness. She could not care less. Not for the strained smile, nor for the way in which you met Seonghwa’s look that hinted at an irritated desperation as he strode down the foyer towards the one who was supposed to be his beloved, and consequently, towards you. At least to one of you he was not lying. You had never seen a colder greeting, and that sent an arousing tinge of victory to your stomach. He held his stare over the woman’s shoulder while giving her a quick embrace with one arm. This time, you returned it in its entirety.

As the fiancée finally decided to resume her check in, accepting the pass and explaining that ‘even if Seonghwa dear was to leave early, she should not be disturbed until eleven in the morning with breakfast that had been specified in her booking’, you nonchalantly nodded along with a refreshing coolness. The boost of confidence that Seonghwa’s barely contained pride in your professionalism gave you was dizzying, and you were happy to bask in it and show off all your best sides. Yes, ma’am. Of course, ma’am. Always, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am. It was easy. She was an easy one to read. Such was normally the case with the clients who were the most demanding. How simple it must be, you mused as you watched her spin around to find a bored Seonghwa, asking him something in a shrill tone. You had no right to despise, in fact, if there was anyone who should receive the label of a monster it should be you, and yet, a revelation was bestowed upon you. If your rewards consisted of Seonghwa’s devotion, you did not mind being the villain.

You knew more than she ever could, and that made things all the more easy. While it did hurt to be aware that the bed you had shared earlier would be occupied by another, the hope that in Seonghwa’s mind, it was always you was far too strong to remain pessimistic. And with that, you let them go. Enter their day as a couple, while you, as a passing face. Making sure to pay little attention to either of them, you returned to typing something on the computer, yourself not quite sure if anything appearing on the screen even made sense. He was due to check out in a couple of days. So close, but so, so far away. In a land called his own life, not meant to exist with yours. A mere couple of minutes later, your phone dinged, jolting you from your pondering.

> ps i cannot wait

You blinked multiple times to confirm that what you were seeing was indeed a message from none other than the man who had just raised his hand to point and was guiding his fiancée to the elevators. Park Seonghwa - ‘ps’, a little code you and he had devised for the rare occasions that he would need to notify you. You never knew his number, but you knew that whichever address the letters would come from, it was him, and could only be him. Lifting your head, you encountered a lingering regard, masked as a general study of the surroundings while she was trying to start an argument with one of the staff over their treatment of her suitcases. Baseless - but that was on brand.

> next time?

You typed out as quickly as your typing under the desk would allow you.

> is this ‘le chat noir’?

Silent at the mention of the high class restaurant, you could only respond with a curious agreement.

> yes.

> i’d like to make a booking for 8pm tonight.

Your hands were shaking. You could feel that gaze on you again, setting you alight. You had a second to decide, a lifetime to repent.

> booking at ‘le chat noir’ for 8pm tonight confirmed.

There was no way out. But at least you could enjoy the labyrinth that you were trapped in, and be his Bonnie on the side.

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enjoyed the fic? i would really appreciate any reblogs, comments, notes! much love!

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firewhiskykiss · 11 months

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I’VE GOT MY EYE ON YOU | DM / YOU

draco’s eyes have been following you everywhere, even to the prefects bathroom. requested by @dolcid <3

a/n • this was so much fun to write. i didn’t know what genre i wanted this to be so it’s a mashup of everything!!!! and all of my current ideas. i could’ve made this sm longer but i decided to keep it short.

theme • angst, fluff, sexual allusions but no explicit smut.

warnings • bullying, nobody likes you, you’ve got no friends, nonconsensual sexual advances, some sexual content, complicated feelings, rejection, angsty stuff, kissy stuff, etc.

word count • 4.8k

petulant. that is how you would describe draco malfoy. not that anyone would bother asking for your opinion. you were of the firm belief that bullies never wholeheartedly meant anything they said, that it usually came from a place of unresolved insecurity. draco malfoy was that sort of bully - the annoying, insincere sort, that probably only did it for some corrupt form of entertainment or to compensate for his dreadful hair. but his style was nevertheless cruel. he had an aptitude for humiliation and throwing insulting pieces of parchment at the back of your head during lessons. he loathed the sight of you. your brother, harry, was not much above malfoy’s bullying, and silently enabled every vile remark that the blonde boy threw at you. despite the unremitting teasing, you noticed that your brother appeared to have lost his tongue every time he bore witness to these events, and failed to stick up for you, despite your own fierce loyalty towards him.

you and harry and been bought up similarly, but in your first year at hogwarts together it transpired that harry was much less affected by the dursley’s abuse than you were. he became a brilliant, albeit cocky, boy with lots of friends and you seemed to drift in the opposite direction. by the time the second year of school had come around, you had no friends and had been thoroughly ostracised by your own twin and his two best friends. it made no difference that you and harry shared the same blood, it was irrelevant to almost every student and teacher in the school with the exception of luna lovegood, a girl who was as equally rejected as you were. you had to admit, even you found her a bit excentric sometimes, but she had a heart of gold and you couldn’t fault her.

it wasn’t uncommon for unkind students to play pranks on the both of you. once, you had found a pair of your shoes tied to the branches of the whomping willow. you would have loved to say that you were brave enough to retrieve them but you and luna had consecutively agreed that your lives were not worth a pair of scruffy, canvas pumps.

today, you had defence against the dark arts with professor snape. you’d learned to expect teasing and paid no heed to it, treating it as indifferent to the rest of your daily routine. you heaved your book up onto the desk and mindlessly inked the date onto your parchment. the fact that malfoy was yet to start flicking black ink at your school shirt was almost concerning, so you mustered up the confidence to glance at him over your shoulder. although you weren’t able to make out his snide remark, it wasn’t hard to infer the nature of his words because his face was screwed up with disgust, as if he’d just sniffed something foul. he usually looked at you like this when he was saying something callous.

as the gaunt teacher strode down the aisle of desks, he jabbed at the fact that your last piece of homework had been smeared with an unrecognised green substance. that had been the fault of malfoy’s goons, you recalled.

“ten points from ravenclaw.” you could have sworn the professor had nearly been snarling at you when he returned your assignment by slapping it onto the desk infront of you.

subdued by his harsh glare, you sunk into your seat hoping it would be enough to hide you from the sniggers of your classmates or, more severely, hoping that you would disappear.

malfoy arrogantly hollered, “nothing new with y/l/n, sir, she’s completely useless.”

“as much as i regret to divulge the truth…” snape droned on, “it seems you leave me no choice but to agree with my pupil, miss y/l/n. i must implore greater care from you next time.”

with a weak smile you looked up at your teacher and apologised, ignoring the eyes that bore anonymously into the back of your head. they were malfoy’s, but you were preoccupying yourself with the wall.

malfoy was an expert in his field. at some point he had gone from being an annoying little boy who only picked on you for your slovenly, second-hand uniform, to becoming one of your greatest anxieties, howbeit intelligent and even better at avoiding reprecussions. at the same time as malfoy had transcended this level, you noticed that he’d also started to outgrow the puppy-fat around his face, broaden around the shoulders and get increasingly taller. dare you say, he was becoming quite handsome. this wasn’t something you conciously thought about, you were too busy removing the hexes from your possessions before bed every night.

his goons, crabbe and goyle, marvelled the ground he walked on, to make matters worse. suppose malfoy didn’t show up for a lesson, you could unfortunately rely on crabbe and goyle to ravage your mood instead.

malfoy enjoyed having you on ropes, his victories came as a breath of fresh air because he was so used to overconfident gryffindors standing their ground. you were easy to break, not that he got any sadistic pleasure from ruining your day. the rationale behind it was that teasing you bore resemblence to a sort of callow game, it was a childish delight. at a push he found it cute when you reddened with embarrassment when he teased you. guilt was only small component of the game, he scarcely felt it. he might’ve felt remorse if he’d ever seen the tears in your eyes, but you never gave him the satisfaction.

you felt something suddenly bounce off of your head and land on your desk, it was a note. the hand it had come from was disciplined, their writing was neat however there wasn’t alot of it, instead an animated portrait of you being dangled in the air by the branches of the whomping willow tenanted most of the space. you furrowed your eyebrows.

“who…”

“surprised you don’t recognise my handwriting by now.” quipped a familiar voice. you shuddered. “never been one to pay attention though have you, y/n? i think that’s why you’re failing most of your classes.”

he wasn’t wrong. but it would be a whole lot easier if you weren’t subject to constant abuse.

“actually-” you began, prompting malfoy’s lips to curl into an unpleasant smirk. he cut you off before you could thoroughly begin.

“maybe if you weren’t so busy concerning yourself with that lunatic friend, you’d have room for school in that tiny brain of yours.” malfoy didn’t care who else he brought down in the process of taunting you. “or is it - remind me, what are they called again? the wrackspurts? total nonsense.”

despite the scorn in his voice, you detected something soft behind his eyes. everything about his expression mocked you, except for the eyes which studied you, to the point that he almost looked fascinated on the contrary to his angry eyebrows. his eyes followed your hand down to the piece of parchment and watched as you tucked it into your pocket.

strange. he thought. he’d expected you to throw it away, but instead you’d kept it on your persons like a souvenir of his cruelty.

in the strictest of confidence, he thought it was cute.

he thought you were cute.

the following day, you had care of magical creatures. you pursued a winding path that was swallowed by the forest on the way to your lesson. the grounds were impeccably preserved. you had always found yourself mesmerised by the school’s unworldly beauty: the dulcet choir of birds in the morning; the unflinching snowdrops; hagrid’s mountain of brilliant, orange pumpkins; the pine trees that shed their needles across the underwood. you were nature’s undeclared admirer.

you had learned to quickly tame your school book this year, by stroking along the binding as if to comfort it, but your fellow classmates were slower to this realisation, which made for a very messy walk to lesson. neville’s book wrestled him to the ground and tore at his uniform, by the time you had all formed a circle around hagrid, neville had been dismissed in order to find a new set of robes because his lay in shreds on the forest floor.

“wouldn’t do you much harm, y/l/n”, malfoy chorused, “weren’t you saying that you needed new uniform?” he said, gesturing to your faded cloak. the soles of your shoes were also coming apart.

“just leave it, malfoy.” you sighed defeatedly, clutching your book to your stomach.

“i’m quite good at fixing shoes, i learned a few things from the cobbler in diagon alley”, he started, lowering his wand to your feet.

to little effect, you began to step back, the other students paying more attention now to malfoy than they were the lesson.

“taranallegra!” he thurst a cloud of purple smoke at your feet, and stepped back to admire his work.

your legs soon become restless, you were hopping from one side to the other, until you were involuntarily dancing infront of the entire class. it wasn’t something you could resist, if you’d strained any harder your legs might have snapped in two. it took hagrid few strides to reach malfoy because of his huge legs. then, the teacher grabbed the boy by the scruff of his collar and growled.

“you undo thats now or i’ll ‘ave yer sent up to dumbledore this instant!”

hagrid’s narrowed eyes pressured malfoy into searching desperately for his wand, but the boy wasn’t successful. whilst you jigged uncomfortably, a small mound of black fur hurried to your side, it was a creature you had been studying as part of your elective, an innocently disposed niffler, whose small paw was wrapped mischievously around malfoy’s wand. the slytherin gulped and the niffler looked up at you with a pair of sinless eyes, they twinkled. if creatures could smile, the niffler would have been smiling. it tapped your shoes, sweetly ending the jig, and scampered behind your legs to where it hid from malfoy’s long, condemning finger that pointed straight at it.

“professor, that thing has stolen my wand!”

“oh shurrup, yer slimey toad.” hagrid groaned and released malfoy’s collar with some force.

the teacher winked at you kindly as he picked the niffler up with two hands, like a small puppy, and pulled malfoy’s wand from it’s grip.

it was difficult to say who had been more embarrassed.

“you’ll pay for that, you pathetic halfblood.” draco sneered, snatching his wand back from hagrid without thanks. his two goons crossed their arms threateningly over their chests and smirked. they were like puppets - funny looking ones with protruding features and round tummies. at this, you laughed and turned your back on malfoy for the rest of the lesson leaving him to stare at the back of your head with a heavy chest.

he felt he’d gone too far. he wasn’t sure why. but that didn’t dissuade him from ensnaring the tree roots around your feet with a dark charm to wind themselves around your ankles.

“MR MALFOY!” bellowed the giant teacher. the niffler ran up to malfoy and mounted his leg, attempting to bite him with it’s blunt teeth. you would’ve found it funny if you weren’t bound to the forest floor. in typical fashion, harry undid the hex - ONLY because he hated malfoy just as much as you did.

actually, you weren’t sure if you hated him. you just hated that he hated you.

weeks had passed now. the sad smile you cast towards hagrid at the end of the lesson was the denouement of malfoy’s bullying. in the weeks that followed, he’d been battling an unfamiliar feeling of guilt. it was foreign to you as well, but you’d been feeling, noticeably, lighter and draco had been observing your newfound happiness.

it was fine. it didn’t bother him. not one bit. he spent most of his time convincing himself that he didn’t miss your… altercations. perhaps he meant interactions? he certainly couldn’t besmirch himself by apologising, that was too far. so he had to ignore you.

until one evening he found his goons picking on you in the library.

you had taken up harry’s reluctant offer to study with him and ron in the library, ron hated the idea, but harry had learned to tolerate you ever since malfoy had stopped ridiculing you. truthfully, you were less of an embarrassment to him this way.

you had left your desk to find the book that you needed, when a cold hand prevented you from pulling out of the shelf.

“whatchu need that for, ay?” you recognised crabbe’s uneducated accent.

“just studying…” you hadn’t missed this. the constant apprehension. perhaps you’d let your guard down too much, you’d stopped excepting it. knowing your luck, malfoy would probably appear soon and start being cruel in some way or another, and crabbe prolonged the minutes by staring down at your cowering figure.

goyle was stood there too, lethargically pressed up against the bookshelf opposite you.

“what should we do with you? draco’d kill us if he thought we were here-“

“-taking the liberty to annoy you ourselves.”

they completed eachother’s sentences like twins.

“bet your brother’s glad to be shot of you for a few-“

“but we could do him a favour and make it a lot longer if you’d like us to.” goyle teased while crabbes hand made it’s way through the folds of your robe.

“no, i don’t think that’s-“ you tried, but crabbed pressed a fat finger against your lips to silence you. you knew that any attempt to escape them would be done in vain, they would have already planned ways to stop you. goyle dipped his chubby mitts into your pocket and took your wand, tucking it into his back pocket. nifflers were an unlikely occurrence in the library. all of your options were exhausted.

“no, please-“ as crabbe’s hand rode up your thigh, goyle went suddenly rigid and slumped onto the floor, your wand rolling out of his pocket onto the stone slabs.

“patrificus totalus!” you’d closed your eyes expecting to be the victim of another immature prank, but you mistaken. the anonymous wizard had missed and the spell rebounded off of the bookshelf, causing crabbe to retreat into his neck fat and turn around.

“malfoy?!” you choked, surprised. he looked at you but he didn’t acknowledge you, in the same way that he picked up your wand and shoved it abruptly into your chest, but refused to say a word.

instead, he gritted at crabbe and poked his wand viciously into the folds of his skin.

“the bloody hell do you think you’re playing at?” at the same time, he kicked goyle’s pleading hand away from him and grimaced at the lump on the floor. “consider yourself lucky, the pair of you.” he threatened, taking crabbe by the collar and tossing him down to the ground .

“pathetic.”

you must’ve accrued some sort of respect from malfoy after the incident with the niffler.

the look that crossed malfoy’s face was not explicitly guilty - until your eyes began to well with tears. after everything, you’d hoped to be immune to everybody’s incessant wickedness but it had somehow come to this. scooping up the book you’d been after, you brushed past the slytherin, whose mouth had fallen open to say something but failed him.

over the days that ensued, you were left to ruminate as to why he’d bothered sticking up for you at all. draco malfoy hated you. there was no means of distracting you from these thoughts, especially now it was the holidays and luna had gone back to spend it with her father.

you were one of few students that stayed at school during the holidays. you and harry. malfoy’s father had insisted he spend his spring break at hogwarts to focus on his studies, he was keen for his son to make a success of himself, if only he knew about his extracurricular activities. in some ways, you preferred it when the other students left to see their families, but your biggest headache still sat across from you at all meal times.

you noticed that draco’s eyes had become less hostile, more watchful and there was no distracting you from that, either. every time you looked up from your plate, his chin was connected to his palm in a manner of deep, undisrupted thought.

his blue eyes followed you through abandoned corridors, up enchanted staircases, though his feet maintained a fixed position.

silly, conflicted draco.

he was beginning to feel things that he wasn’t used to, that provoked him to behave strangely. if you ever confronted him about his actions, he’d justify them by saying that he was simply protecting you, because you were truly incapable of protecting yourself, supposing that no one had slipped veritaserum into his morning pumpkin juice.

malfoy was on his way back to the slytherin common room after quidditch practice, when he’d noticed the sound of footsteps in suspiciously empty cloisters. darkness had stolen the day. it was cold. he whispered “lumos” to his wand, and followed the fading noise. he was also unconsciously trailing after a familiar scent - something that echoed honeysuckle. meanwhile, you were unaware that malfoy was skulking behind you.

you’d borrowed harry’s invisibility cloak to slip into to the prefect’s bathroom late at night. you unlocked the door and hung harry’s cloak on one of the many hooks. when malfoy realised what he’d gotten himself into, he held his breath. he immediately felt like a complete pervert. not only was he unaware that it you was you hidden beneath the cloak, he’d also been unaware that this was the prefects bathroom until he got himself locked inside.

you began to shed your layers, your tired robes of the day, your figure appearing to draco in the moonlight. the moon kissed your skin shamelessly through the stained glass, draco tried to keep his eyes trained on the floor, but your body was an invitation to a temple he’d yet to worship.

just as you submerged yourself in the bubbles, he stepped forward, clearing his throat. he’d since put his light out and dropped his wand on the floor, leaving little light to highlight his features. the looks you gave eachother were a surprisingly comfortable exchange, you felt fine so long as the bubbles covered everything that made you shy.

“i didn’t realise you were following me, draco.” you whispered gently, pulling the bubbles into your breasts, careful not to melt them with the water dripping off of your hands.

“nor did i.” he chuckled breathlessly, eyes blown wide with fascination.

neither of you had yet noticed the snow falling softly from the ceiling, it melted too quickly in the water, for draco’s magic was attuned his feelings of guilt. this also spurred feelings of sadness, hopelessness and desperation - he desperately wanted to be forgiven. around the bath grew tiny, white posies of mistletoe that also harmonised with his feelings. but these feelings were of a different nature, but he lacked the adequate vocabulary.

everything that had been repressed was surfacing in the bathroom.

“why are you here, draco?”

“i’m sorry, it was an accident, i should be goin-“

you extended an arm out of the bubbles and grabbed his ankle.

“but i haven’t said thank you yet.”

“for what?”

“for sticking up for me.”

malfoy stiffened and shrugged, his back still to you. if he looked at you for any longer, he’d turn the bathroom into a garden.

“yeah well, i don’t mind a prank. but they took it too far. i don’t like you any more, i don’t hate you any less.” he lied, causing the flowers to suddenly wilt. you noticed and frowned, cupping your cheeks in contemplation whilst your elbows rested on the side of the bath. the snow from above delicately crowned your head.

you now bathed with an uncomfortable silence, draco couldn’t bare it any longer. he withstood all of his words, all of his beliefs, and turned around quickly, kneeling down and pulling you onto his lips by the face.

he moaned longingly, wetting your mouth with his kiss. you returned the gesture with keen interest, using your arms to hoist yourself out of the water, although you were no longer hidden by the bubbles and your chest was flush against his quidditch uniform, making it wet. you were only far enough out of the water to reveal your top half, the bubbles still hugged your little waist, he loved it.

he pulled back quickly, shaking off his green uniform and leaving it in a careless heap on the floor to be soaked as he jumped into the water. draco was considerably bigger than you, however thinner. he swam to you, pulling your legs around his waist and snogged you up against the wall of the bath, blonde hair how damp and rugged-looking. he had kept his underwear on as courtesy, but it was clear you cared little for chivalry as you lips made their way down his neck.

“i’m sorry, y/n, it was supposed to be a game,” he breathed, slowing your endeavours, and pulled your focus up to his eyes by holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, “got out of hand…”

despite all of the heat, and the fact that you requited the feelings inhabiting his cold heart, it wasn’t going to work out with draco the way you hoped it would. you weren’t pleased to submit yourself to a person like that. you deposited these feelings quietly in the water, in the hope they’d disappear down the drain along with all of the bubbles, and petals…

previous discrepancies between you and draco made you reluctant to kiss him any further, you even welcomed thoughts of hating draco, it would have been so much easier to let go of him that way. still, you loosened your grip on his hair and shook your head.

“it would be too foolish.”

he preciously rubbed your cheek with a thumb and disagreed, “then be a fool for me?”, innocently cocking up an eyebrow. he’d never felt so vulnerable, if you rejected him he’d have to drown himself or do something spectacularly awful, he thought.

then, he thought he couldn’t possibly be bargaining with you. he cringed slightly and pulled his hand back too. he had stripped to not only reveal the best of him, but all of the worst too. he considered remorse, and vulnerability to be a few of the worst qualities, that were redeemed by the big package in his underwear. it was childish, his way of thinking. you were accustomed to it.

it would have been nearly too easy to make draco malfoy your friend, let alone your lover.

you were surprised that the sun hadn’t begun to dazzle you through the stained glass mermaid. what felt like epochs, transpired to be 2 hours after you’d returned to your dormitory in a fluffy robe and slippers. that night, despite how tired you felt, you couldn’t sleep soundly with draco malfoy’s kiss weighing on your conscience. and the fact that you’d rejected him.

when the term resumed, you expected your kiss with malfoy to have been forgotten about. rather than teasing you for your tatty uniform, he instead discovered ways to flirt with you to an insufferable extent, they worsened day to day. it was his revenge. because you challenged his disposition. because you lead him astray. because you seduced him with that perfect, perfect body of yours. because you forced him to admit that he didn’t hate you at all. because you -

you.

it was all your fault.

despite however much you pretended to hate him, you couldn’t deny the ghost of his hands nor the way they’d pawed at your breasts and loved you. yearning for him seemed to consume you more than hating him, but deliberately nosey glances from your brother made it difficult to reciprocate anything out-loud during lessons.

one day, he’d leaned over to “borrow your textbook” in potions, his cool breath making contact with your ear as he muttered a sly “thank you” to which you valiantly fought him off with an elbow and snatched the book out of his hands.

you craved him. and bickering with him was but a lame excuse to touch him, because it looked strange any other way. so you both unrelentingly fought the other. you hit his arm, you elbowed him as much as you had to if it meant you could feel close to draco malfoy. because loving him was not an option.

at night it wasn’t your heart, but your pussy that needed him, for so many consecutive nights you clutched your pillow to the warmth between your legs and rocked back and forth, wishing he was there.

perhaps it would be sufficient to fuck eachother and avoid the subject of love all together? you wondered this sometimes. you wondered about things like this when you shouldn’t have been, when you should have been paying attention to professor snape’s arrogant ramblings. perhaps you should try and forget about that night in the bathroom for good? move on? unlikely. these thoughts usually occurred to you in quick succession and overwhelmed you for the rest of the day.

it would’ve been an ordinarily overwhelming day if malfoy hadn’t seized you from within the alcove he’d been hiding it, and covered your mouth with his big hand.

“i must be going crazy, y/n.” he started angrily, “i haven’t thought about anything else.”

his eyes were crazed, his mind was demented, his heart was torn. you fiddled for your wand, even though you knew you wouldn’t need it, but he stopped you anyway and pinned your hands to the stone wall behind your head. he was gripping you so tightly, his knuckles had turned white.

you weren’t religious, but you’d mistaken draco for the devil. clearly, something had been tormenting him all day, he looked disturbed, and it was making you tremble.

“get off me you dog!” you whisper-shouted, above the sound of a party. you assumed slughorn must’ve been throwing one of his do’s, judging by the raucous music and the smell of alcohol lingering on malfoy’s breath. funny, he wasn’t usually invited to events like that.

his robes were smarter than usual. he was always well dressed but they weren’t embroidered with his house crest, and his tie wasn’t green, instead it was all black and stylish, his blonde hair combed neatly either side of a middle part.

“dog? dog?! you-“

“SHUT UP!” you shouted, because you couldn’t put your hand over his mouth.

“you can’t just kiss me the way you did, and expect to forget about it!” he seethed at you, burying his knee between your legs, making you gasp, “my heart talks about nothing else.”

“no one else.” he continued sincerely, silencing his heavy breaths against your forehead, but it was hardly a kiss.

“you must be drunk, draco.” you tried weakly, but in vain, because you were moaning when he kissed you for the second time in your short life.

“who’s the fool now?” he questioned, mumbling against your lips between short kisses, “you have been mine, the whole time i have known you. you never knew it.”

you had no fond memories at hogwarts besides those shared with draco. as he looked upon you with fierce eyes, you came to the uncanny realisation that your entire teenhood had revolved around him in some way or another, fate had been twistedly weaving you together. you hadn’t been intending to tie your soul to his every time you’d fought him off with a glare, or ruined the other’s day. every tear you shed was his, he owned every feeling you’d ever felt in human extremity, all of the smiles he’d watched from across the hall were contingent on his actions, and for too long he’d abused this power.

his hold on you relaxed and you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for seconds. his tongue ravaged your pretty mouth, and licked yours. you knew what the kisses would lead to, if you carried on in such a way that had draco panting for breath and lowly whining when you denied him the chance to grind against your hips. your innocence was his, too, to bear and to deconstruct. he did just this, leading you on foot through the halls, before he grew impatient and threw you over his shoulder, handling you through the door of the slytherin common room and throwing you against the leather sofa.

he crawled ontop of you, discarding his black robes on the floor and unfastening the buttons of his shirt, exposing so much more than skin.

“don’t you ever try anything like that again,” he said furiously in reference to your attempt at denying all the obvious feelings you had, and wrapped his hand delicately around your throat.

“i’ve got my eye on you.”

#draco malfoy #draco x you #draco x reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fic #draco angst #draco smut #draco malfoy x reader #harry potter fanfiction #slay!

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olderthannetfic · 1 year

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Something that frustrates me about the Harry Potter conversation is a lot of people missing the point behind the motivation to boycott it. They seem weirdly focused on the content of HP when it's actually... not that bad? It's not perfect, in fact a lot of aspects are pretty fucking problematic and worthy of discussion, but not uniquely so by the standards of the fantasy genre. Yes, I know the goblins are clearly drawing on anti-semitic tropes. Yes, the house elf situation is fucked. Yes, lots of not-like-other-girls-style misogyny. Yes, Cho Chang was a fucking disaster of racism. I KNOW THIS ALREADY! I'm not an idiot and Harry Potter fans were talking about this for far longer than JKR has been a TERF. But I'm also a fan of the Elder Scrolls and Dragon Age and the Witcher and a shitton of isekai anime and tons of other fantasy medias which are so much worse. Harry Potter is only moderately problematic by the standards of most popular fantasy media, especially for the mainstream standards of the time period it was written. Worthy of criticism, but not dropping it entirely. And actually reading HP and looking back at JKR's behaviour at the time, much of it seems largely unintentional, just that JKR drew on a lot of fantasy tropes that she didn't properly examine as well as her own unexamined biases and she had some flawed understandings of progressivism that were fair for its day but don't fly now, but doesn't seem malicious. The actual authorial intent at least seems to be pretty progressive at least, even if the execution wasn't the best. And sure, it's not a masterwork but there's a reason it connected to so many people, even if a lot of it was luck and timing. We don't have to ignore that and doing so feels dishonest.

I'm just so annoyed when people try to shit on the contents because they're missing the point and confuse the actual problem in a way that weakens their argument. I don't give Harry Potter money anymore because JKR crossed some lines for me in real life, totally separate from Harry Potter as a piece of media, and I don't want to fund her bullshit because she is so influential it is hurting people. The content of her books is utterly irrelevant to this decision. She could have penned a goddamn magnum opus and it wouldn't have mattered. So I'm sick of people bringing up books that are "better" or ragging on the contents of Harry Potter because none of that is the point and never was the point and it comes across as just taking advantage of a shitty situations to dunk on a popular thing or those who enjoyed it. Yeah, it was a mediocre fantasy series. But it hit the right emotional escapist buttons in a lot of kids even if it had the moral nuance and depth of a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles anti-drug PSA. Having to drop it sucked for a lot of people because it can't be replaced and yelling about how bad the writing was doesn't change that because it never was about quality. JKR's TERF transformation was in many ways a betrayal of JKR's intended audience considering how the text preached acceptance and love and starred an abused, unwanted child getting to go to magic school where he's special. Pretending Harry Potter should be dropped because its content has issues obscures the actual problem of a raging transphobic having money and influence and that not everything created by bad people is poor quality so boycotts might require giving up access to things you actually like or are valuable and that's not always an easy decision to make.

JKR was a probably decent person with fairly liberal politics when she wrote Harry Potter. The books, while imperfect, are not more horrible or full of problems a dozen other popular fantasy properties. JKR become a TERF later in life and while she may have had ingrained transphobia prior to this when she wrote Harry Potter, that is not the same as the virulent hate-movement she's part of now and we should recognize how easy it is for people to get drawn into hate-movements. Any argument to boycott should be about how she's using her money and influence to affect real life laws and attitudes unless you want to try and get people to also drop half the fantasy genre.

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kairismess · 5 months

Text

just let him adore you. — atsumu miya x reader

🎧 song inspo: adore you by harry styles.

🏐 genre: fluffiness with a good brew of coffee ~

✒️ word count: 1,006

💭 summary: atsumu could never move on from the one who made his heart skip a beat at first glance, he held you in his heart, even after six years, for him to grab this very opportunity to tell you how he really feels.

🍥 author's note: time to spread the harry styles agenda (i'm so late to the party)

it was one sunny morning at the local cafe atsumu frequented, there was nothing out of the ordinary that day–just the same, average routine for the pro volleyball player, when he wasn't being noticed in public, that is. he was surprisingly very good at being lowkey, especially at the one place he found the most relaxation at.

on that day, that day when the light, feathery clouds let the sun's warm rays seem through it–he was greeted by the voice of someone who sounded familiar by the counter. he turned his head to see his old classmate from high school, smiling up at him, wearing that usually mundane, boring uniform of the cafe, that looked a thousand times prettier now that you were wearing it.

he's cheeks went flushed without him realizing it, and his honey colored pupils dilated as his lips parted, his mouth hung a little open. he tried to compose himself after you called out to him again, smiling still, and he shook his head, coughing a bit. "ah, yeah, um... can i get a, uh..." he stammered, unsure now of what his usual even was anymore because: one, you didn't usually take his order–and two, it was you who was going to take his order.

you, the exchange student that ended up in his class and brightened his uneventful days up with the small hint of your smile–you, who sat next to him in class and beat him to greeting you first–you, whose pretty strawberry lipstick always made your lips shine and appear glossier, and always had a sort of colorful way of looking at and doing things.

with you, atsumu always felt like he was in a rainbow state of paradise. but today, unfortunately, it felt like today he was stuck at one end of the rainbow spectrum at a time, since... you probably didn't recognize him–and, even if you did, he wasn't sure if you'd even remember him.

well, no harm in starting over again, he thought to himself as he finally got his order out to you and you went right to work at punching his order in and making it. atsumu really felt like his usual today would be a lot more flavorful than his ordinary 'usual', because today, the first person to ever make his heart beat a tiny bit more was going to make it.

"so... ya been 'ere long?" he asked you with a partially confident smile as he watched you brew his drink. you chuckled and responded that, no, you hadn't been working here for long–you'd barely been here for a month, actually. atsumu nodded as he watched you pour in the rest of the contents of his drink, mixing them up into a beautiful slurry of shades and lights. "for a rookie, y'sure are great at this whole coffee makin' thing." you smiled at his compliment. "and... you sure are nice, mister." you complimented him back, making him blush and smile wider.

atsumu snickered as he leaned over on the counter as he watched you cover his drink and began to write his order down. "alright, um, your name, sir?" "you first." he teases, grinning sneakily, making you laugh a little at how smooth he was. you pointed to your name tag and giggled. "right here." "i know, but... there's somethin' real pretty about ya and yer name, i wanna hear what it's like for ya to introduce yerself ta me, if it ain't too much ta ask for." he admitted, blushing a little as his eyes shone even more staring up at you with a wide smile on his blushing face.

you gave in and introduced yourself to him, and atsumu repeated your name, as if to take in the fact that, indeed, you were the one that made his heart patter all those six years ago–with the same way you carried yourself and said your name, how your eyes gleamed with a darling innocence and brightness to them, and how you always seemed to catch his heartstrings and squeeze his heart in all the right places to make him love you so, so much more the more you two talked and casually spent time together.

"alright, well... tsum." "tsum?" you asked him, feeling as though you've heard that name before, somewhere in a chapter of your past that you could kind of but not wholly remember. atsumu nodded. "spell it however ya want, i ain't that uptight 'bout it." he spoke, trusting you that you'd remember him well enough, even just barely, to spell his name the way you always did–because you gave him that nickname, 'tsum', and he grew to love it ever since, because... you gave him that name when you two became friends.

"this may be strange, tsum, but... i feel like i know you from somewhere." you confessed, feeling a bit awkward and shy. atsumu chuckled and thanked you for the drink, his long, calloused fingers brushing against your own when he received the drink. "well... so do i, actually." "really?" "i think... i've seen ya in m'dreams before." he teased, which was semi-true, he had occasionally dreamt of you here and there after graduation, wondering if you two would ever meet again.

it surprised him how calm he was, seeing the first person he ever truly loved right before him–and though he was always confused about what exactly he felt about you back then since he was so young and unsure... he knows how he really feels now, and he couldn't be any happier to feel it again and see you, be with you in the very cafe he loved visiting.

he doesn't mind how long it takes, he doesn't need you to love him, you don't have to say anything to fill the silence with him or say you're his when you two are starting out again–he'd gladly walk through fire for you, he'd do any and everything for you... just let him adore you. it's all he'll ever do, and all he's ever done.

338 notes · View notes

ficcidio · 10 months

Text

FINE LINE

pairing: idol bf!chris x idol!reader

genre: angst, fluff, comfort

warnings: hateful comments, swear words, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader has an anxiety attack, and has a trauma with bullying, i think that’s it

a/n: everytime i listen to this song i imagine this situation and i needed to write abt it, hope u like it love u <3 (not proofread btw)

ᯤ now playing: fine line by harry styles

— 시작

“she’s so ugly” “they shouldn’t have made it public” “how can he be with someone like her?” “is this a joke?” “chan deserves better” “i hope y/n dies.”

those were the comments you were receiving for these last two hours. dispatch had just revealed your relationship with chris and you were already receiving threatening, hateful messages. you didn’t want this, you didn’t chose it. you were so mad and so hurt. why would they do it without your consent? what if you were going through something? which you actually were.

2 a.m, you couldn’t sleep. you didn’t read not even one nice comments. they were all talking about how bad you are for him, how you don’t deserve it, how they want you dead. your past memories came in flashbacks and tears started running down your cheeks, you couldn’t stop crying loudly, not even thinking about how much noise you were causing. chris had already left you 20 messages and 3 missed calls but you just couldn’t answer. you didn’t have energy, it’s like they had taken everything from you and your sadness was the only thing left.

you threw your phone, not caring if it broke or not, only focusing on your thoughts, your memories triggering you. remembering your old self being hurt, called things, threatened, being humiliated publicly. before you even noticed, you couldn’t breathe anymore. you were fighting just to get some air. your phone rings again, and again, and again. you lost count on how many messages and calls you received, but your fear and embarrassment were much more important. you were incredibly scared.

you didn’t know how much time had passed until you heard the door open. it was chan. you situation was still the same, crying, being hard to breathe. you truly wanted to pretend it was fine, didn’t want to worry him, but you couldn’t stop the tears and the loudness was unstoppable.

you heard quick steps, probably running to find you. when he finally heard the sobs coming out of the bathroom, he entered the room as soon as possible and looked down at you laying on the floor. he kneeled and removed the hair that covered your face. there he found your beautiful eyes with tears in them, letting them fall, loudly crying. “my baby” he whispered as he lifted you from the floor. he sat there and put you on his lap. he kissed the tears on your cheeks softly while hugging you tightly. his warmth made you feel like all the air you needed was finally coming through your lungs, finally breathing normally

“shhh, it’s okay baby” he comforted you as he patted your head and you tried to hold your tears. “it’s not” you finally talked “they all hate me”

“they don-“ you didn’t even let him finish “they do, chris, they want me to die” you hid your face in the crook of his neck as you kept crying uncontrollably

“those people are just mean. don’t let them control your life, pretty. don’t think about them. it’s just me and you now, yeah? they’re not getting in between us. i won’t let them”

“but what if they do something to you? what if the company doesn’t accept us?” you said quietly, trying to catch your breath while sobbing

“i will fight for us, y/n” he started “i won’t let anyone put a finger on you, nobody will touch you as long as you’re with me. nobody will hurt you, i will protect you with my life”

“i’m scared…” you said in a thin voice that could barely be heard

“i know you must be terrified, but you’re not alone, yeah? we’re in this together. we’re more than a couple, we’re a team, and i refuse to come here if it’s not with you holding my hand” he stated “my love, i don’t care losing my job, my fans or my fame. none of them are as important as you are. you’re essential, you’re needed. i only care about you right now”

you felt his love in every of his words, he never failed to make you feel appreciated. he gave you a beautiful sweet smile that calmed you down almost immediately. the tears started to slow down until they finally stopped. meanwhile he was mumbling that one song you always listened to together. all those hurtful memories were no longer there. peace. relieve. that’s what you felt. maybe all this comments were still there, but you were no longer alone. actually, you were never alone. he held your hand tightly and used the other one to grab your face gently and make you look at him

“you just hold my hand like this, and you’ll see how everything bad comment, every threat, every single one of their words will no longer mean anything to you. always walk by my side. i’m not gonna leave you behind.” he kissed the palm of your hand a couple times and a smile appeared on your face. “there it is. your gorgeous smile” you couldn’t help but giggle and kiss his cheek softly

he lifted you up and carried you to your bedroom. he quietly put you in the bed as he did the same. you felt tired from crying, your eyes hurt so much and they felt so heavy. he kissed your head and hugged you warmly. “if anyone wants to separate us, they will have to bring down a torch from heaven and set us fire” he whispered. you smiled and clung tighter to him.

“we’ll be alright, beautiful. we’ll be okay as long as we stay together. and we will” he promised, and you fully believed him. you knew he was right. he always was.

#skz #straykids #ficcidio #stray kids #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan comfort #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #bangchan x reader #stray kids angst #stray kids x reader

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banggyu0308 · 9 months

Text

Berry Sorbet // Huening Kai

huening kai x fem!reader

summary: in which you share one of the five senses with your soulmate, and the taste of your lipgloss is on Kai's tongue all week.

genre: soulmate au, uni au, slight reincarnation au, non idol au, fluff, humor, skippable smut (will be marked by blue borders) (for your convenience, it is still sfw a little bit after the first border, just in case you don't see it. it is also slightly sfw before the last border, in case you don't scroll far enough)

warnings: cursing, both their friend groups are VERY annoying, some suggestive dialogue from said friends in friend groups (and a reference to taehyun being a tutor and occasionally making out w the people he tutors), some texting scenes, alcohol consumption, both kai and reader are idiots when it comes to their feelings, both kai and reader are very touchy-feely, mentions of kiss-like birthmarks, slight nudity (NOT IN A SEXUAL WAY AT ALL. you'll see when you get to it...)

word count: 9k

🎶 - LIP GLOSS (the boyz) + i don't understand but i luv u (seventeen) + watermelon sugar (harry styles)

an- happy twenty-first birthday hyuka ❤️ + if your name is Madelyne and you're a Tyun bias, i'm telepathic and this is for you

Kai's late. Or- almost. Sliding into his seat at the last minute was not what he had planned to do today, but it's what's ended up happening. His professor shoots him a sharp look over the other students heads, but turns back to the class without a word at his tardiness.

He puts his face in his hands and lets out a slow exhale, opening his notes to focus on the lecture instead of the thoughts running inside his head. His pencil scratches against the paper, his eraser squeaks slightly when he moves to get rid of a word, and the thoughts pause momentarily.

The girl seated in front of him raises her hand with what both Kai and the professor assume is a question, but is actually her CORRECTING what the professor has just told them. Kai expects the professor to get a little more than frustrated at being told she's wrong, but instead she's calm addressing the student. "Thank you for your contribution, Yn. I was unaware that this was a recent development of this topic, and I will further research and fact check it at a later time."

Yn looks up at the teacher with a smile. "I could email you my sources, if you want."

To Kai's surprise, his professor returns the smile, says, "Thank you very much," and continues on with her lesson.

He tries to focus again on the professor's words but a slight fruity taste settles on his tongue. That's strange- he didn't have any fruit today that he can think of.

Lunch break rolls around and as he takes a bite of his store-bought sandwich, he finds that instead of the sandwich's taste, it's the same fruity flavor that takes over his tastebuds.

It's subtle, but it's there, and it's a little annoying. Kai forces himself to finish half of his sandwich with a groan of annoyance, laying with his head in the crook of his arm once he's done.

He sits up to look around after a moment. The cafeteria is loud, but he can pick out some of the voices closest to him. There's Beomgyu, of course he's the loudest. Yeonjun's sitting next to him- they're arguing about something. Kai smiles slightly and shifts his gaze. They'll resolve whatever they're fighting about later. It's almost always something stupid.

Soobin meets Kai's gaze when it shifts to him instead, and without a word, stands and joins him at his table.

"Why are you sitting all alone?" He jokes with a soft smile. Even the small twitch of his lips sets off his dimple, and the expression makes Kai smile back.

"Just wasn't feeling it today. Here, try this... does it taste normal to you?"

Kai holds out the other half of the sandwich and Soobin takes a bite, food shifting to his cheek as he chews. He hands it back with a shrug. "Tastes normal to me."

"Not... fruity or anything?" Kai raises a confused eyebrow and Soobin shakes his head.

"Nope."

Kai stands and tosses the sandwich in the trash, lips pursed in frustration, and sits back down to pull out his phone. The situation is weird enough that he decides to google it, because his friend Soojin had been complaining about a weird taste in her mouth just weeks ago.

The first few articles are about food poisoning, of course, but the ones a little further down are almost all on the same topic, and suddenly it clicks in his brain.

Of course. Didn't Soojin tell him just last week that she'd found her soulmate, a girl in their class named Aurora?

You get linked to your soulmate at random times. Kai knows this. He just hadn't expected it to be, well, now? He's only twenty, he's still in college for pete's sake.

And now he has to figure out the next thing.

Who in hell was eating so much fruit???

You sit down with a sigh in the front of your classroom. You're early- punctuality is important.

Obviously, the boy sitting behind you doesn't know that. He's seated a split second before the bell rings and you resist a disapproving look his way. His bleached-blonde hair is grown out slightly, mussed in the back like he just rolled out of bed. Jeez, your class isn't even that early...

He's quiet all throughout class, something you notice, although it's not a surprise. If class participation were a grade, he'd fail. You're pretty sure you've only heard him talk once.

The sweet taste of your lipgloss is still slightly unfamiliar when you swipe your tongue over your lips, and you apply another coat with one slick movement. The girl next to you looks at you with a question in her eyes, and you show her the lip gloss tube momentarily before turning back to the lecture.

The class ends with only one incident: a case of misinformation, which you swiftly correct. Lunch is next, and your lipgloss smears pink on your napkin when you wipe it off. Your mouth still tastes like it slightly when you bite into your apple, but it's fine.

You've packed yourself a normal lunch and when you finish, you check the time. Aw shit.

You almost run to your next class, which luckily goes by like a flash; it's one of your easiest ones.

Your next class is one you've just started and you're unfamiliar with. Both the classmates and the actual concept itself are new to you, and you look up from your notes to find the teacher's paired you with the boy from earlier. Instead of your look of annoyance from before, you send a small smile his way.

It's received and returned, and he finds his seat next to you. "I'm Kai," he says, a slight nervous note to his voice. You smile again.

"I'm Yn, nice to finally meet you for real, Kai."

You've been aware of him, of course. One of your best friend's is practically obsessed with one of HIS friends, Taehyun, which means you've spent many a lunch break observing the group, all for Madelyne's sake.

When Kai leans over you slightly to look at your notes, you catch a slight scent of something that almost smells like baby powder. You smile to yourself- it reminds you of your family.

It is strange, though, the way the smell of him lingers even after your numbers are exchanged, after the class ends, after you go back to your room for the day...

And still there when a text from him lights up your phone.

huening project partner 📖🖊️ i forgot to ask this but, could you send me a copy of your notes? i'm not good at remembering things without looking at them

You laugh slightly at this, take a few photos of each one of your sheets of notes, and send it to him.

you is that all you need?

huening project partner 📖🖊️ yes, thank you 🙏 well... no.

you what else? the punctuation is scaring me

huening project partner 📖🖊️ NO DON'T BE SCARED OF MY PUNCTUATION 😭 I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHY I PUT IT IN THE FIRST PLACE 😭

you NO NO ITS OKAY I WAS MAKING A JOKE BECAUSE NONE OF MY FRIEND EVER USE PERIODS AT THE END OF OUR SENTENCES AHSBHWBS 😭

huening project partner 📖🖊️ wait really???????? taehyun usually does, the smarty-pants he is (can't be normal like the rest of us...) but it makes him seem like a really dry texter 😭

you exactly why we DON'T most of my friends are already dry asf when it comes to texting punctuation makes it worse

huening project partner 📖🖊️ i'm sure your friends cannot be worse than taehyun-

you BIANCA IS SO BAD AT IT ISTG like over here you and i are having a conversation and i don't just think you're sitting on the other end like an npc

huening project partner 📖🖊️ ... you're welcome?

you 😭😭😭 IT DID FEEL LIKE IM THANKING YOU FOR NOT BEING BORING 😭 THANK YOU FOR NOT BEING BORING!!!!! AND NOT BEING AN NPC!!!!

huening project partner 📖🖊️ YOU'RE WELCOME!!!! and thank YOU!!!!

you oh my goodness i cannot breathe right nowwww 😭 madelyne is looking at me like i'm CRAZY

huening project partner 📖🖊️ ...is she wrong though....

you HEY!!! YOU'RE NEW!!! YOU DON'T GET TO DISS ME LIKE THAT JUST YET but tbh takes one to know one 🤭

huening project partner 📖🖊️ exactly, you idiot/lh sorry that was mean 😊 goodnight now, i don't even remember why i was texting you in the first place, no way i'm doing homework at 1am 😭

you well, me neither, even though i am right now goodnight kai :) i think i'm going to enjoy being partners with you

You're cleaning in a rush, throwing things into bins, under your bed, under MADELYNE'S bed, but to be honest, who cares right now??? You'd known Kai'd be over today but it didn't hit you until this morning, THIRTY MINUTES BEFORE HE SHOWS UP, and now, rightfully so, you're in a panic.

You're shoving the last thing into your drawer right as there's a knock at the door. "Coming!!"

You take a moment to dab at your sweaty face and smooth your hair in the slightest. You reach a hand and turn the doorknob, swallowing the little anxiety crawling its way up your throat. "Hello hello!!" You grin at him, taking him by the shoulder and leading him in. "Welcome to my humble abode."

In any other circumstance, you'd be joking. But your room was quite literally the definition of 'humble', even after you cleaned up slightly. You'd done the best you could when you first moved in, adding dainty, pastel curtains that reminded you of fairies, other little details to your bed and side table, but it was hard to cover up the fact of how old this room really was.

Kai cracks a small smile and bends to take his laptop from his bag. You do the same. He joins you on the edge of your bed a moment later and it's all but silent, the only sound the clicking of your keyboards. Not that you mind!! You know the best way to get things done is in silence, for you at least.

He breaks it a moment later, leaning slightly to point at your screen. "I was thinking we could put this over here?"

His chin is practically on your shoulder and you nod slightly, dragging the text box to the other side of the screen. You look up to a loud bang, jumping slightly, which knocks your face into Kai's just as Madelyne walks in.

"OH-!" Her face is a devious grin when she looks at you two. "What do we have here~?"

You quickly shove yourself away from Kai, face hot. "This-" You gesture pointedly at him. "Is my partner on a project for school. Kai, Madelyne. Madelyne, Kai."

"Hey," Kai says. Other than a slightly embarrassed smile on his face, he doesn't look uncomfortable otherwise, and you let out a small breath of relief. The last thing you needed right now was your partner uncomfortable with you.

You stand and push Madelyne away, not leaving room for silence, and say, "Alright, goodbye now!"

Once she leaves again with a backwards glance to you and a "It's my room too," you flop back onto the bed.

"I'm sorry she's like that," you apologize, face buried in one of your pillows.

"No, it's alright, I really don't mind. My friends are the same way. Taehyun's a tutor, for crying out loud, we all know what he gets up to."

A wry grin is sent your direction when you lift your head again, and you have a split second thought of 'I should sign Madelyne up for Taehyun to tutor.' She'd love you forever if you did.

"Thank god," you smile back, settling back in front of your computer, a little closer to Kai this time.

Introduction to your best friend: check.

Maybe this whole project thing won't be so bad.

Kai is surprised when you sit next to him during your Monday class, and even more surprised when, halfway through your lesson, you lean over to invite him back to your room soon.

He barely processes the words coming from your mouth. He's too focused on the fact that now that you're this close, he can smell your lipgloss, and it's all too familiar to him. It almost exactly matches what he's been tasting on his tongue for almost two weeks.

When he gets out of class, his mind is still running with thoughts tripping over themselves. WHY would he be tasting your lip gloss? When he didn't even know you? And why, the same day he does, does he get partnered with you for your project?

He plops onto his bed with a small sigh. His phone is alight with multiple messages from Yeonjun, asking where he was.

3:57PM

yeonjun 🙄/j KAIIIIIII DID YOU FORGET TO MEET US :((

kai well... yes. sorry?

yeonjun 🙄/j You SHOULD be sorry, you meanie >:( WHAT is so important that you would forget????

kai what does it mean when you can taste a girls lip gloss but you've never kissed her or another girl with the same lipgloss?

yeonjun 🙄/j you're not making any sense i don't think it can be the same lipgloss then, or even lipgloss, if you've never kissed or anything

kai yeah... i guess that makes sense sorry for bothering you XD

yeonjun 🙄/j no no it's alright!! who's the girl?

kai you know yn..? super smart, takes a few classes with me, has the friend who's infatuated with taehyun?

yeonjun 🙄/j OH HERRRRR OMG yes i know her!! do you like her?

kai i- NO?????? I WAS JUST ASKING BECAUSE

yeonjun 🙄/j because...?

kai nothing

yeonjun 🙄/j you totally like her.

kai i don't

yeonjun 🙄/j mhmmmm anyways, are you gonna meet us or not?

kai not i've got work to do

yeonjun 🙄/j fine.

4:11PM

yeonjun 🙄/j and one more question... do you have her number?

kai yes...?

yeonjun 🙄/j can i have it?

kai why?? do YOU like her?

yeonjun 🙄/j no i don't can i have it?

kai fine...

kai shared a contact: yn

4:23PM

kai YEONJUN NOT FUCKING COOL YEONJUN AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I HATE YOU I HATE YOU SO MUCH WHY WOULD YOU AJHBVSHJABSJWBSUWBDSUW

yeonjun 🙄/j thought you didn't like her 🤭

You have no idea what just happened.

First of all, WHO added you to this group thread? Why are you here??

And second of all, Kai was one hundred percent right. Why does Taehyun text like that????

4:20PM

unknown added yn

unknown HIIIII

you who. the FUCK. are you?????

unknown WOAH CALM DOWN CALM DOWN LANGUAGE >:((

unknown beomgyu, you know you're just the same. 🙄

you okay, so i know ONE person here, i guess... WHO ADDED ME????

unknown me!! the one who said hi first..?

beomgyu 🐻 that's yeonjun

you see, that's all i needed FUCKING NAMES

jjun 🙄 IM SORRY ALRIGHT???? I DIDNT THINK ABT NAMES????

unknown you never think.

you that is totally, 100% taehyun

unknown ... correct. and scary.

taehyun 😏 i feel nervous now.

you dont be kai told me abt y'all so :D

huening project partner 📖🖊️ i did huh?

you oh HIIIII is soobin here too then?

unknown that's me <3 hi yn

you hi soob!! now, WHY am i here? and why does yeonjun have my number?

huening project partner 📖🖊️ that's my fault jjun asked ;-;

you and OFC you had to give in, because it's yeonjun, right? 🙄

huening project partner 📖🖊️ he's hard to say no to i didn't think he'd do this!!

you it's fine it's fine so. how is everyone?

soob soob ❤️ im good!

taehyun 😏 eh. could be better.

jjun 🙄 he's being dramatic, he's fine so am i

beomgyu 🐻 im good too!!!

huening project partner 📖🖊️ ... bad :D

you whats wrong hyuka? :((

huening project partner 📖🖊️ yeonjun :D

you ah, i see we should just get rid of him, shouldn't we?

jjun 🙄 you can't just get rid of me??? i MADE the gc therefore, by law, i CANNOT be removed!!

you i'm sure you thought this through beforehand ;-;

soob soob ❤️ he totally did

jjun 🙄 i did NOT so anyways :D yn, how is your project w kai going? 😏😏

huening project partner 📖🖊️ the emojis are SO unnecessary

jjun 🙄 that's why i used them, kai

beomgyu 🐻 he is nothing but unnecessary

you 🤭 BEOMGYU WE SHOULD HANG OUT

beomgyu 🐻 i've always thought you match my energy :D let's do it :D ... if huening doesn't steal you away...

you he wouldn't dare >:(( would you, kai?

huening project partner 📖🖊️ ...no?

taehyun 😏 LMAO.

soob soob ❤️ kai needs to be reminded he doesn't own yn

huening project partner 📖🖊️ I do NOT?????

jjun 🙄 mhm sureeee 🙄

you i feel like *I* should be the one who's scared here...

huening project partner 📖🖊️ NO YOU'RE FINE

beomgyu 🐻 we're completely normal :D

you that was the last straw the grinning emoji says otherwise GOODBYE-

'hey, it's kai... was wondering if we could spend some study time in the library together sometime soon? just to do a little extra research, plus it's quiet and that way neither of us need to worry about hosting and cleaning and stuff. call me or text me when you get this. bye.'

You put your phone facedown on the table after listening to the voicemail. It's not that you don't WANT to study with him, in fact you probably NEED to, it's just that you hadn't planned for it. Today or any day. But honestly, today would probably work best... so, you text him back.

you i could do today!! project's due in a week anyways, so it's probably a good time to finalize some stuff and practice presenting.

huening project partner 📖🖊️ okay!! I'll bring my stuff in 15?

you sounds good!! see you then

You grab your books and your computer, shove them in your backpack, and make your way to the library. It seems as if Kai's borrowed your punctuality today- he's there when you show up.

That's new, but he doesn't bring it up to you, only waving you over to his table. "Alright, so, we should divvy up the actual presentation bit, and then I can double check the slides I'm working on, and then you can do the ones you are?"

You smile and nod, logging into your computer and opening the shared Powerpoint.

The two of you are working peacefully in silence, side by side at your desk, until you hear whispered giggling. Now, usually you'd roll your eyes at the disruption and ignore it, but the giggles sound too familiar.

Except... it wouldn't make sense for that to be the laughter you hear. There's more than one voice, and it sounds a lot like Beomgyu, Yeonjun... and Bianca and Madelyne??

Two more voices who, until then, had been unheard, grow louder to shush the others, and you place who they belong to when you see two sets of dark eyes and dark hair peeking from behind a bookshelf.

Funny that Soobin and Taehyun are trying to be the ones to keep the others quiet, but are also the ones that get them seen.

You duck your head and try to ignore them. You don't alert Kai to exactly what his friends are up to, or the fact that your friends are with them too... how the heck did that even HAPPEN??? You bet Madelyne's feeling VERY happy right now, you can tell everyone's pushed up against everyone behind that bookshelf.

One whisper cuts through the others, louder than the rest. "Guys, they look kinda cute together..."

Your head jolts up at the sound and Kai looks over at you in concern, but you shake your head. "Nothing, thought I heard something..."

When he turns back to his computer, you side-eye him, scanning him in a way you hope is subtle. Your gaze catches on a scattering of moles across his neck, a few on his cheeks too, but the ones on his neck catch your eyes the most. It almost seems like there are lip-stick marks on them, and you feel something that almost feels like jealousy in the pit of your stomach. Someone's obviously gotten to him recently and done exactly what had flicked through your brain a second ago.

But then again... When you lean closer, pretending to itch your leg, you notice that said marks are faint and almost match his skin tone, which throws you off. There are a few just like that smattered across your own body too, and they've been there since as long as you can remember.

Now you're curious.

"Kai?" You ask, facing your computer and whispering out of the corner of your mouth.

"Mm?"

"Are those birthmarks? Around the moles on your neck?"

He looks at you quickly, a faint blush on his cheeks. "They are, actually... most people assume they're like, hickies or something? They're not, though. So."

You smile at him, tugging the collar of your shirt down so he can see the few on your own neck. "I have some other places too. My mom says they're where your soulmate kissed you most in your past life, which makes me a little suspicious of my soulmate's preferences." Your smile turns a little wry, and then you look away.

"Mine too, actually," he smiles to himself. "A lot on my moles, which are a lot of places, so..."

Your eyes widen at both the whisper of "they look like they're gonna kiss..." coming from the bookshelves and the thought running through your head of wanting to press your own lips to his moles, regardless of their placements. His soulmate was one relatable bastard.

You stand quickly, shoving your things in your bag, and murmur a small apology of your quick departure to Kai. No doubt he'll think he'd driven you off with his confession, but that works for you. No need to tell him the real reason.

You hear multiple groans of annoyance when you pass the bookshelf your friends are behind, and you slam your hand against it for a quick second, sending a glare to whoever's eyes you meet on the other side.

You'll be having words with them all later.

WHY couldn't they let you have your words with them????

Madelyne inviting Bianca to your dorm the next day was practically the perfect opportunity to chew them both out. You'd already gotten mad at the others on the group chat (you're sure Yeonjun regrets adding you).

But!! Before you can even open your mouth to say something, they're both pulling open your drawers and closet doors, throwing clothes at you. You're stunned into silence until a sock flies into your mouth, which you spit out, and yell, "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING?????"

They both pause and look at you with confused expressions. "Did you not get our texts? We've sent, like, thirty in the past 10 minutes," Bianca says. Her hands are full with a few of your skirts that you've shoved in the back of your closet, and you snatch them from her.

"OBVIOUSLY not? What did you say????"

When neither respond, gesturing to your phone, you open it and read through. "I am NOT going to a party. No way. I've got things to do!"

Madelyne rolls her eyes. "Yn. This is your second year in college and you haven't been to a single party."

"I have!!" you protest, moving to shove your clothes back in the drawers.

"Katie Milewicz's birthday party does not count."

"Whether it counts or not, I'm NOT going to this one!"

"What if we told you all the guys will be there and you can bash them about the library incident?" Bianca's smooth voice chimes in with Madelyne's, and it makes you look up momentarily.

"Fine. It'll be fun to do it in person." You sigh in defeat, then grab one of your pairs of jeans and a T-shirt. "But I am NOT dressing up!!"

"There we go..." They both grin at you and wait outside the bathroom as you change and do your hair. Taking your hands and dragging you to the dorm where said party is being held, you press your lips closed in frustration.

When you open the door, it feels like a wall has hit you. A wall that is far too loud, smells like alcohol, and feels like a heat wave.

"On second thought... I might just stay out here." You turn from the door, a little overwhelmed, but Madelyne tugs you back to it.

"I promise it's not as bad when you get inside, okay? And we can find you a corner you can hang out in, with a drink or without."

You take a deep breath, making sure to let it out as a frustrated sigh, but you allow them to bring you inside.

Almost every face is unfamiliar to you, and you suddenly understand the meaning of the phrase 'this is not my crowd'. Remembering Bianca's words from earlier, you peer around for Kai and his friends, but the room is so filled, you have no hopes of spotting them.

You grab a coke and retreat to a corner, so close to it that your hip is pressed right where the two walls meet. Even in your little solitary area, you're bumped up against every now and then.

You hate it, you hate this.

Someone's hand finds your waist momentarily and that's it, you're out of here. You have to finish your project anyways, both you and Kai are counting on you for this.

Turning from the wall to find the doorway, you're met with the first familiar face you've seen all night, the person said face belongs to moving some dude away from you.

"Hey," Kai says, slightly breathless, and he leans against the wall next to you. Your heartbeat spikes at his proximity, and you swallow slightly, moving backwards away from him just the slightest.

He looks just as out of place as you, but the one thing that catches your eye is how someone's angled their colored phone light just right so that it somehow catches Kai's hair, making it look like a blue halo. You giggle slightly at it, and you double check your cup to make sure you haven't accidentally given yourself something that's not coke.

A smile crosses Kai's expression and it makes your heart flutter again, moving a little closer to him.

"So." You say in his ear, loud enough that he can hear but no one else can. "How'd you get here?"

"Do I really look that out of place?" He says in your own ear, lips brushing against your skin, and you swear you feel an actual spark. You feel a sudden need to have him closer, but you ignore it, smiling up at him. "One hundred percent. So who dragged you here?"

"Two guesses."

"Hmm... Yeonjun and Taehyun?"

"Close. Yeonjun and Beomgyu."

"Damn. Maybe me and Beomgyu are less similar than I thought."

"Maybe you're more similar to Soobin... it seems like the two of you get along well."

The way he's looking at you makes you feel like you've done something wrong, even though you know you haven't. What IS that?

Whatever it is, it renders you completely tongue tied, and Kai can tell. "Should we get out of here?"

You can only nod, and when he takes your hand to drag you out, you definitely feel something stirring inside you this time.

He stops just outside of the room, close enough that if someone came looking for you two, they'd be able to find you. You both slump against the wall and slide down it, sitting on the floor. Your sides are pressed close, and the writhing under your skin is only growing the longer he's touching you.

"What were you saying?" You ask, and now it's your turn to sound breathless.

"Oh, nothing... Something about you and Soobin getting on?"

"Oh, yeah. We went to middle school together. It's not like we were ever close, but it's like we have one familiar face from our childhood, you know?"

Your hand feels like it's moving of its own accord, playing with Kai's hair when he leans his head on your shoulder. "I get it. Me and my friend Soojin's girlfriend, Aurora, are like that. She was in my eighth grade class."

You nod slightly, your eyes shutting, and your hand slips farther down to his back. You can feel where his waist dips to his hips through his t-shirt and you press your fingers right there gently.

Your mind feels so fuzzy, you swear you feel like you're drunk. You don't know what possesses you to kiss Kai, but you know the moment you do that there's no way you can ever stop. His lips are soft, pressing against yours so perfectly, it's like you were made for each other. You're giggling into the kiss, eyes wide open, and you know that's a weird way to kiss someone, but you don't want to miss a single thing about his expression right now. His hair tickles your forehead and you can feel his breath on your cheek, along with his eyelashes, but it's perfect.

It's absolutely, 100% perfect.

When he breaks the kiss, forehead against yours, you don't allow space to say anything, tugging him back into the dorm and to the bathroom. You have him against the wall, lips against his, against his neck, the bit of collarbone that peeks from the collar of his shirt... there's a primal need deep inside you to have your lips on his and it's insatiable, tugging you back to him for more more more, and the way he's responding you can tell he can feel it too.

Kai lowers his head to press soft kisses against your neck, one after another, and someone pounds their fist against the door after attempting to turn the locked knob.

You only giggle, and a voice follows the knock. "Are you screwing in there?"

Kai lets out a surprised and amused breath at the incorrect assumption. One last kiss to your jawline that does nothing to quell the need of his lips and he's dragging you back out of the bathroom and to his room, and let's just say... there's no need to worry about him not kissing you tonight.

The sun is too bright.

That's your first thought when you wake up with a splitting headache, in a room that is very unfamiliar to you. You feel so horrible that you'd think you'd had at least three drinks last night.

You look around the room to find Kai asleep on the floor in a tangle of blankets. With his tall frame, the sight is almost funny. But it's also your only relief about what the last night consisted of, because waking up in his clothes had put more than a few running thoughts inside your head. At least now you can have a feeling nothing happened.

But looking at Kai and knowing what you did last night, what the both of you did... you have to get out of here. You can't change out of the clothes, but you grab yours and your shoes, and you quietly leave the room, heading back to your dorm.

Madelyne and Bianca are waiting there, surprisingly sober, although they look a lot like they hadn't slept at all last night. Bianca's usually perfectly-picked afro is smushed on one side and not the other, like she'd laid on it all night, and Madelyne's makeup is smeared all over her face.

"Oh, thank God you're okay!" They both fling themselves up from the bed and into your arms, then pause and take in your current state. "Are you okay?"

You nod quickly. "I just slept over at Kai's."

Bianca looks at Madelyne with a sly grin, then back at you. "Mhmmmm..."

You roll your eyes, then head to the fridge to get a bottle of water. "Did you guys get any sleep last night?"

"Not a wink."

Madelyne seems almost proud to admit her commitment to worrying about you, but it only makes your heart hurt. You were so busy with Kai you hadn't even sent them a text to explain.

"Guys... I'm sorry, I should've told you I was leaving. It won't happen again."

You look down at your feet while you say it, cheeks hot with embarrassment, and Madelyne pulls you into a hug by your arm. "Hey, yn, it's alright, okay? We're fine, you're fine, everyone's fine."

"That's true." You smile a little, then take a sip of your water. "I'm gonna lay down, okay? Let me know if Kai texts, I may have left without telling him..."

You're not afraid of leaving your phone with them. A, because they don't know your password, and B, because they're your best friends in the whole wide world and you trust them.

The water helps your headache go down and you're nodding off to sleep when your friends barge in. "He texted!!!"

You groan and fling your arm out for your phone. "Gimme..."

Bianca puts it in your hand and giggles slightly, bumping hips with Madelyne.

huening project partner 📖🖊️ hey, just wanted to check in after last night since you didn't tell me you were leaving... is everything all right? text or call me when you get this <3

You put your face in your hands with a sigh, and drop your phone on the side of the bed. "Not right now. Too much thinking involved in responding."

"He sent you a heeEeEeeEaaRrrT!" Madelyne giggles, raising her eyebrows repeatedly.

"Because. We kissed. And kissed again. And again. AND AGAIN. And now I don't want to talk to him because I don't have the emotional capacity, so please leave me alone right now."

You pout at them at your last sentence and then roll over in your bed, signifying the end of your conversation.

You'll text him later, of course you will. You just need to find a way to think with your brain, not your lips, because there's an actual ache inside you that needs him next to you.

You don't text him later. It's not your fault you slept for hours, and then went to eat lunch and go to an arcade and then got dinner and went back to sleep!! But you forgot that your presentation is tomorrow, and now, standing next to Kai at the front of the room, it's more than a little awkward.

You can see a littering of kiss marks on his neck and wonder how they even showed up like that. But that's not the point right now. The point is that you need to recite this presentation but your mind is blank. It's like every time Kai steps closer to you, something from him makes you go dizzy and numb and unable to form normal human words.

It doesn't seem like he's fairing much better... he keeps looking behind him at the presentation, which is bullet-pointed to keep it small, instead of the full paragraphs you were supposed to memorize.

Finally ending the project, you're more than a little relieved. It was not good, at all. You'd be surprised if you got anything higher than a B. You're more frustrated than mad at the result of your work. You both worked hard on this, you know you did. Things just happened at the wrong times and messed everything else up.

You're ready to leave at the end of class, but the teacher stops both you and Kai. They lean over their desk to whisper to you, even though the rest of the class is gone, and their dark silver hair catches the light just so to make it look like it's sparkling.

"Yn, Kai... I don't know what happened today, but I trust that it was something bad enough to cause this, because I am genuinely surprised at your outcome of this project. I saw the two of you working on it together. The Powerpoint was done very well. But the actual oral part of your presentation... was not. And for that, I can't give you any higher than a C-."

They look genuinely apologetic when they usher you out of the room, and when Kai tries to say something to you, you brush past him and head to your room. Thank god that was your last class of the day... you have no idea if you could've handled having any more after that disaster.

You're not necessarily... upset, so to say. Right now, you just feel in shock. Shocked that you let something as stupid as making out with your partner on this project give you a C-.

Your plan is already in action when you fall into the comfort of your bed: let it sink in, cry, sleep, eat, sleep, sleep.

You're just getting comfortable, tucking yourself under your covers and wrapping them around you, when a sharp, burning sensation on your neck makes you hiss through your teeth. You swat at your neck. Is it a bug??? When you feel nothing there, yet the burning doesn't cease, you groan and get out of your bed, trudging to your bathroom.

You look in the mirror, tug down your shirt's neckline, and-

"What the fuck is that???"

You have lines of bright red kiss marks on your neck, like some sort of fucking rash, and every time you touch them they start stinging. The sting must be getting to your head because the first thing you think of is, 'does kai have some sort of weird poison on his lips???'

You giggle at your own thoughts, take a photo of your neck, and send him a text saying just that.

huening project partner 📖🖊️ funny, i was just thinking the same about you can you come over, please? it's really really important

You almost type no, but then the sting turns to an ache that you can feel in the pit of your stomach, and you hit send.

you yes

The moment you open the door it feels like the ache is tugging you towards Kai by a string, like you're some sort of puppet. The moment your palm meets his shoulder, the burn on your throat ceases and a small gasp leaves your lips.

"This is not normal," you mumble, pressing a kiss to his lower lip.

"Not at all," he agrees, lips finding yours when you part.

Your gaze drops to his neck to find the remnants of your kisses from the night before. "So then... It's been happening to you too?"

He nods, one hand on your cheek, and when he kisses you again, it feels like your heart is being wrenched from your chest. In a good way.

"I- please, do that again?" You whisper, chest pressed against his.

He complies with no protest, his breath shaking against your skin.

The burn is less, but still there, and you remember something you've read. "Kai?"

"Hm?"

"I think... I think you're my soulmate."

He smiles at you and kisses you again. "Yeah, I've been figuring the same thing. It hurts, doesn't it?"

For a moment, you think he's talking about finding out who your soulmate is, but then you realize he's referring to each of the kisses burning against your skin. "It does.. do you know what we're supposed to do?"

He nods, and lowers his lips to your neck again. You smile to yourself at the fact that he knows, and quickly tug your shirt off, followed by your shorts, and he follows suit. Moments later, you're laying side-by-side in his bed, and, just as everything you've read has promised, when his bare skin meets you, the burn disappears completely.

And, well, with that taken care of, you go back to kissing him with a small giggle. You're more than a little surprised at finding your soulmate and you can tell Kai is too, his heartbeat fluttering under your palm.

His skin is smooth beneath your fingers, and you barely process when your lips lower to mark it, sucking splotchy purple hickeys across the broad plane of his chest. Kai shudders slightly when you do, and you look up at him, nervous you made a mistake.

He shakes his head the slightest, closing his eyes briefly. "I'm just... getting used to how it feels when you touch me."

Your cheeks grow hot. You thought it was just you who noticed, the way everything gets a little warmer when his body is touching yours.

The burn under your skin returns when you move away from him slightly, and when you gasp, Kai tugs you back down onto him, a little smile dancing across his face. "I think we're gonna have to stay like this for a while..~"

There's a teasing note to his voice that wasn't there just a second ago, and it makes you do a double take to be sure this was the same shy boy who smelled (and still smells) like baby powder. "I don't think I'll mind~"

His cheeks go pink, like he hadn't expected you to flirt back at all. It makes you laugh, the flustered look on his face that makes it seem like he's forgotten that you're in his bed, practically naked.

You press your forehead to his and leave a small kiss on one of the moles on his cheek. Kai's hands move to your hips, moving you just a little bit so you're situated on his stomach, and the way he looks up at you through the pieces of hair in his face makes your breath catch. This man right here wants you, needs you, and it's so blatantly obvious from the look in his eye that you have no idea if he's messing with you or not.

You tentatively move your hips back so you're straddling him, and run a slow hand down his torso, and when he closes his eyes, you can feel the emotions radiating off of him in your own body. That's new.

His emotions feel so warm, like he's happy just being here with you, and he almost feels like he's mentally nuzzling you when you run a hand through his hair. "I think I like this..." you murmur, laying down on top of him and looping your arms under his back. You note the way his head falls immediately to the crook of your neck, not to give you any more kisses, but just to breathe you.

He whines when you sit back up, but the moment your lips meet his again, you can feel him go fuzzy, like he can't quite think straight when you're kissing him, and... well, you're almost completely sure that he can feel you feeling the same way.

"Kai, I..." You try to catch your breath when he breaks the kiss, but he chases your lips so desperately that you can't help but fall back into him.

A soft whimper from him surprises you, and, if even possible, you feel his mind go even fuzzier. Dizzy too, almost. Like his head has gone underwater and everything he's hearing has gone muffled, along with everything he says, too.

"Wan', please?" he hums, lips finding your neck again.

You almost ask what he wants, but you can feel it, and your cheeks grow hot before you oblige, your hand slipping beneath his boxers to take him in your hands. His tip is dribbling clear precum when you tug his boxers down, and when you stroke him once, you can feel the pleasure coursing through his body.

The achy burn is back, a little more fervent, like some sort of primal animal instinct, and it needs him closer, more, this close is nowhere near close enough, and before you can even comprehend it, you're whispering in Kai's ear and he's nodding and you notice that the burn only goes away completely once he's inside you.

Oh fuck.

It's not like you haven't done this before. It's not like you haven't enjoyed doing it before. But nothing has ever come even close to this. You can feel him, not just inside you but around you and with you and everything else. It's like every other time you've had sex all pushed into one thing and multiplied by ten.

And it's not just your experience you're feeling, it's like you're in Kai's head and not only feeling what you're feeling but also what it feels like to him. How it feels to be inside you. The same experience, backwards.

People have told you how much better it feels with your soulmate, but you just scoffed. How is something going to feel better with some random person you have a connection with?

But now you understand.

It's not just some random hookup with some random person. Nowhere near that at all. It's with someone who feels both new and familiar because you've crossed lifetime after lifetime together and now you've finally found each other again. It's like kissing someone that you know you can give up all control to, and they'd still hold you and take care of you and it just feels right.

You can tell Kai's new to this. His body is at an awkward angle beneath you, his arms looped over your legs, and his eyes are squeezed tightly shut. You can hear his shaky inhales and exhales, and his lips curl into a soft smile when you press a small kiss to them.

"Good?" You ask, and you can tell without him answering that yes, he's feeling very good, indeed.

"Very... 've never before, didn't know it felt like this..."

You giggle, which comes out wrong with how fucking breathless you feel, the burn of the kisses on your neck replaced by the burn in your thighs. "Trust me... doesn't usually feel like this."

He laughs, a quiet sound, his hips rocking up against yours. "'M I that good?"

"Ah, I don't know about that..." You tease, licking up the side of his neck. You smirk when his hands find purchase on your ass, moving you up and down in time with his thrusts, but the cocky look on your face slips when you feel him hit that spongy spot inside you, gummy walls tightening around him desperately.

Kai hisses through his teeth, then smiles up at you. "What were you just saying~?"

You smack him on his shoulder. "Shut up."

"What was that? Sorry, couldn't hear you over the sounds you're making~" He gives you a shit-eating grin that reminds you oh-so-much of his friend.

"You're acting like Beomgyu. Maybe I should take your favorite plushies and give them to him, considering you've swapped personalities today."

He feigns a shocked expression. "You would never!!!"

"I would!"

"You know... I could totally take my dick out right now and make you go back to your dorm.."

Contrary to his words, he only quickens his pace, repeatedly hitting the spot that makes your breath hitch. "Please don't."

"Hm? What was that~?"

"Don't stop, please, 'm so close, Kai..."

"Thought you said I wasn't good..." He catches your earlobe in his teeth briefly before his face falls to your neck, breathy pants against your skin betraying his facade.

You pull away from him and he whines slightly, looking up at you with a pout. "I think you should stop talking and just make me cum, Hyuka."

"I thought, ah, you liked when i- fuck- when i talk..."

"Mmm... debatable." You smirk down at him and the cocky smile plastered on an otherwise fucked-out face. The poor boy has tears wetting his lashes from your combined pleasure, his cheeks flushed.

"However, I do like this," you add, hands gripping at his upper arms. "I like this a lot."

"If you wanted me to shut up, then w-why are you talking to me?"

"I decided that actually, I'd rather hear you try to talk to me while you cum."

His eyes go wide at that, blonde hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. "I- I, ah, I-"

"'I, I, I,'" You mock, pursing your lips into a pitying pout. "Are you even trying?"

He nods pathetically, hands tightening on your hips. "I can't, I, feels so, so-" Kai cuts himself off with a whimper, hips twitching up against yours in a desperate attempt to pull himself closer to the edge.

"How does it feel, baby?" You coo, looking at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"Jus', ah, just wan' cum, 'm so close, feels so good, yn..."

A wide smile spreads its way over your lips, and your eyes narrow, almost like you're a predator looking at its prey. "See, baby? Wasn't that easy? That's all I wanted..."

He nods quickly, a watery sob pulled from his chest, and you press a soft kiss to his awaiting lips. "Doing so good, alright? Making me feel perfect, so so good."

Kai nods again, his breath shuddering in and out against your neck, his torso tensing up before his warm cum spurts inside you, cutting off whatever words you were about to say because holy shit, you can feel it. Not his cum painting the walls of your cunt, but the sheer ecstasy in his body from the force of his orgasm.

It's so overwhelming that you feel as if you might pass out when your own high washes over you. You go limp against Kai, cheek against his chest because all you can feel right now is exhaustion.

His arms lazily wrap around you, holding you close, and you roll off of his dick and onto the bed next to him, still panting. "So."

"So?"

You smile up at him, left hand running through his hair. "That was fun, right?"

"Very fun. I don't think I'm gonna be able to recover for another few hours."

You laugh, nuzzling into his neck. "I don't think so, either. If ever. I think I get the hype behind finding your soulmate now."

"Yeah? Did your super-awesome-amazing-boyfriend-slash-soulmate convince you of that?"

"Who said you were my boyfriend? Maybe I just fucked you because you're cute and you're my soulmate and now I'm going to ditch you for Soobin."

"Why is it always Soobin??? What obsession do you have with Soobin???" He looks genuinely hurt, and you stifle a laugh.

"I'm not obsessed with him, you idiot. I'm obsessed with my super-awesome-amazing-boyfriend-slash-soulmate who convinced me to enjoy having him as a soulmate."

This is new to you, unfamiliar territory. You've never walked into class holding hands with anyone, let alone your soulmate. Madelyne and Bianca are hovering behind you both the whole time, squealing and giggling and occasionally whisper-yelling their brand new shipname just for you and Kai.

And as for SooTaeJunGyu... when you happened to let a casual message to Kai slip out in the groupchat, they were quick to pick up on it and even quicker to realize you two were not just dating, but soulmates. (You still regret them finding out this way.)

Beomgyu's been the most annoying, as expected, posting whiny messages about how you spend all your time with Kai, and remember what you said about hanging out with him?

Of course, you haven't forgotten... it just so happens that every time you're away from Kai for more than a few hours, his most recent kisses start to burn again. Which means, wherever you go, Kai goes if you're going to be there for longer than two hours.

Kai gives your hand a gentle squeeze, still unsure of how much PDA you want, but when you give him a quick peck on the cheek, he goes slightly pink.

Your professor only smiles at your linked hands when you enter the classroom. They'd had more than an inkling of your connection, which is exactly why they paired you two together for this project. Obviously, they hadn't expected you to almost fail the presentation, but, oh well, things happen.

Should you thank them if you ever find out? Yes. But will they ever tell you? No way, at all, ever. There's no reason for you two to ever know.

The most surprising occurrence today is most likely lunch, when you wipe off your lipgloss to take a bite of your lunch, and Kai has one request for you.

"Can I taste your lipgloss real quickly?"

The tips of his ears are red, and it's so endearing that the question doesn't even faze you. You smirk lightly, applying a fresh coat just to kiss him on the lips, and when he swipes his tongue over his lower lip after you pull away, you can't help but giggle at the surprised look on his face.

"Soobin-hyung, Soobin-hyung, I figured out why my sandwich tasted weird the other day!!"

Soobin looks up from his own lunch to catch the tail-end of Kai's sentence. He chews for a second, then speaks. "Hm?"

"My sandwich, remember???? The one I had you try and you said it tasted normal???"

Soobin shrugs, and Kai sighs, picking up your tube of lipgloss. "It tasted fruity to me. Like berries. And this lipgloss is called berry sorbet, Soobin! Because Yn's my soulmate, and she was wearing this lipgloss!!"

You facepalm at his excitement and Soobin's amused expression. Kai's in such shock, you can only expect to be hearing about this all day.

And sure enough, when Kai's walking by himself ahead of you, on your way to your last class of the day, you can hear him mumble to himself, "Berry sorbet... I can't believe I didn't figure it out sooner..."

taglist: @isitthemoon @sunnibearr @beomsitez @agustdiv1ne @mixtape-racha @hyewka @dido-of-the-endless @fairyofshampgyu @huckleberrykai @yaekounzn @prodsh00ky @yo-yo-yeonjun @sofiw0rld @strawberry-kirby @certifiedmoa @txtistheloml @shytubatu @sunnibearr @soobhns @beargyuu311 @napofamoon @zeecarus @gyuthmics @ohmahgods @notevenheretbh1 @crispymicrowave @junoswrlld @ningka @5xiang @hyungpo

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starshapedkookie · 2 years

Text

At the End of the Day

summary: You and Jungkook have been best friends for 8 years, going through absolute hell and back together. After senior year of high school, you and Jungkook began a tradition of taking annual vacations together during the summer months. This summer is no different, with you and Jungkook celebrating graduating college just a couple months prior. You're set to move to NYC after the summer, with you and Jungkook soaking in the sun and as many moments as you can together. You'd think nothing could ever tear your friendship apart with him, but when you've sat on the beach for too many days in a row watching him surf, you can't help but wonder - when did your best friend get so hot?

➢ pairing: jungkook x female reader

➢ genre: high school friends to lovers, ex-baseball player jungkook, beach/vacation au, fluff, smut, a little angst

➢ warnings: language, angst, use of edibles, drinking, graphic depictions of smut (fingering, fem. receiving oral, light choking, dom-ish(?) jungkook, protected sex, obscene use of term baby) also i know that in the little mood board i created, the girl is a teeny white girl & i don't want to alienate any of my poc readers at all - i just thought these pics fit the vibe so take them with a grain of salt 😊

➢ word count: 13.3 k

➢ mini playlist: at the end of the day by wallows, satellite, late night talking, carolina by harry styles, no angel by beyonce, ICE (we should do drugs) by labrinth, unusual you by britney spears

posting this in honor of BTS' 9th anniversary. i think i will be sad about their hiatus for the next few days, but i know amazing things are coming for them. bts has saved me more than anyone could imagine - and this story feels like a love letter to jungkook. i hope you all enjoy.

∞

You’re secretly watching him through your sunglasses, bottom lip tucked between your teeth in your observation. The sun’s rays are hot and you should probably reapply your sunscreen, but you can’t budge in your chair. From this distance, he probably thinks your eyes are still focused on the open book in your lap but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You’re not exactly sure when Jeon Jungkook became so sexy. It was definitely a slow burn of growth and puberty overtime, still shocked that your best friend of 8 years looked like this now. Muscles covering his body; leaned out and defined just enough. His hair cut immaculately after a few rough stints of trying to grow it long the last two years of college. Multiple piercings in his ears and you can’t even get started on the eyebrow and lip piercing he’s gotten in the last six months. Tattoos—god his fucking tattoos—covering the entirety of his right arm; shoulder to hand. The only thing that remained the same about him was his goofy personality and lame attempts he called jokes.

When you had first met Jungkook, he was 15 and you were 14, only a few months younger than him. High school orientation is where you met to be exact. Perhaps out of privilege, both of you ended up at the same private high school—nationally ranked for its academics and sports. It’s not hard to guess what you were there for and what he was there. Jungkook was one of the shyest people you had ever met at the time. You’d later find out that he was scouted by the high school’s baseball coaches to join the program. He was skinny like a tree branch, had a black bowl cut, and a nose too big for his face. You don’t know exactly why the two of you ended up becoming best friends but either way, you were grateful that he was in your life.

It’s just now, your friend just happens to be insanely hot and more confident than ever. Like you’ve said, you’re not sure when this transformation happened or how you were able to ignore it for so long, but goddamn—

You quickly shift your gaze away from Jungkook as he begins to make his way back to your chairs from the water. Your focus goes back to the pages of your book—a contemporary beach romance—very fitting for your vacation to the beach this year. Jungkook makes his appearance as you’re adjusting your sunglasses, setting down his surfboard on the sand with a thump—a hobby he’s picked up in the last couple years.

You bring a hand up to further block the sun as you smile up at him, “How’s the water?” You ask.

A playful smirk slowly spreads across his face and you soon regret your words when he leans over you, shaking his head of hair like a dog.

“Jungkook! Quit it!” You yelp at him when the cold water its your skin, holding your book out to protect its precious pages. He laughs, clearly proud of himself—you having to make a conscious effort to ignore how his abdominals contract with each suck in of his breath.

“It’s alright, waves are pretty easy today,” he says running a hand through his wet hair to get his bangs out of his face.

“Just be careful out there, please,” you tell him like it’s a warning.

“Yeah yeah, I know,” he pauses as he takes a long drink of water. “How’s the book?” He asks as he sits down in the chair beside you, throwing on his pair of sunglasses.

You gulp, almost not even hearing his question.

“It’s cute,” you say, book marking your page and setting it down on the towel that’s between you two, “Kind of repetitive though.”

He nods once before looking away from you, outstretched beneath the sun, “All the books you read are the same,” he chuckles, shoving his feet into the sand.

You narrow your eyes at him even though he can’t see you behind your shades, “I’d beg to differ,” you tell him, “Just because I like romances with happy endings doesn’t mean they’re all the same,” you defend yourself.

He glances at you, a smile playing on his lips, “Sure.”

“Fuck you Jeon, when’s the last time you’ve even read a book?” You challenge, “The last textbook you ever had to read in college?”

He makes a hum in not-so deep thought, “Probably,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes with a laugh escaping your lips. Though Jungkook doesn’t voice it, he likes hearing you laugh. “This reminds me of the first trip we took,” he adds in.

You hum in agreement, a small smile forming across your face.

Both of you then lay in silence as you pick up your book again, soaking up the sun and sound of waves crashing a few hundred yards away from you. Silence is never awkward between you two. It hasn’t been for years at this point. You enjoy his company enough that there’s no need to talk to each other constantly. You know everything about him and he knows everything about you—minus the minuscule crush you’ve developed for him overtime. It’s innocent really; Jungkook was your best friend, funny, attractive, and you talk to him nearly everyday. It would be abnormal if you didn’t feel a twinge of something beyond friendship with him occasionally.

At least, if you tell yourself that enough; you’d hope it would be true.

As you peak at him again over your sunglasses, he’s closed his eyes in relaxation, and you begin to think about the journey that’s led you to this very moment.

After you and Jungkook made it through high school, both of you happened to receive scholarships to the same university in the city. You on a nearly full-ride academic scholarship and him on baseball scholarship. Though right before both of you shipped yourselves off to university, you two decided to take an unplanned long, beach weekend trip back to his home in Busan. It took quite a bit of convincing for your parents to ultimately let you go on a trip with just Jungkook alone. Though after Mr. and Mrs. Jeon explained that they had two extra bedrooms in their beach house and you two were ensured you had to check in with whatever you decided to do, your parents caved. You’re not even sure you and Jungkook would call it a vacation now, but at the time, it was so fun. So fun in fact that both of you decided after that trip, you two would continue to take summer trips together after the school year ended.

Throughout your semesters at university, both of you worked part-time jobs despite your busy schedules to save up for your trips. Jungkook usually worked more hours in the Fall, given his baseball schedule in the Spring was more demanding. Yet you two somehow always made it work. The year after freshman year, the two of you went to Seoraken National Park for five days, hiking and taking multiple dips in the hot springs. After sophomore year, you both decided to save a little more and fly to Tokyo, though staying in the absolute most-dirt cheap hotel you could possibly find.

It’s after this summer where Jungkook’s life completely fell apart—every time you look at the scar on his knee, a chill is still sent down your spine. You remember the day so vividly—an open scrimmage in the Fall with the rival university in the city. Of course, you went to support Jungkook with your roommate Lisa, excited to see Jungkook officially play as captain—an unheard of accomplishment for a junior on the team. You’ll never forget the scream he yelled out as soon as he slid into the home plate, the opposing catchers cleat getting twisted up under Jungkook’s knee. He rolled onto his side, clutching his leg in agonizing pain as the crowd watched in shock.

Jungkook had torn his ACL and MCL, as well as multiple smaller ligaments and muscles in the surrounding area of his right knee. In a fucking scrimmage, he would say through anger, frustration, and tears. The injury was career ending and that was the only time you’d ever seen Jungkook cry in your years of friendship. Jungkook had gone from someone who was expecting to be drafted in the first or second round, to someone who had lost their baseball scholarship and a fucked up knee for the rest of his life. Jungkook almost didn’t even finish school after that, though through the pressure of his parents and you, he walked across the graduation stage with you less than two months ago. You were proud him, star baseball player or not, though you know it’s something he still struggles with to this day even if he doesn’t voice it.

After Jungkook’s knee had healed through physical therapy and other treatments, he ended up working more hours and working with little league teams in the city for extra money. By the end of the Spring semester, both of you had saved up enough money to where it was feasible to pretty much go wherever you wanted. You settled on flying to Europe, doing a two week excursion that was exhausting—but worth every penny you spent. There had been some squabble on that trip between the two of you and a third party, but the last thing you wanted was to think about that.

Now you’re sat on Jeju Island with him, enjoying every moment you can get with your best friend before your life changes forever. Through countless hours of working, volunteering, and two internships, you had landed a dream job of being an editor in New York City. You weren’t due to move until the Fall, but the prospect of not seeing your friends and family made you extremely sad. It’s also why you’ve realized that whatever feelings you’ve harbored for Jungkook, must be kept secret deep within your body. It wasn’t reasonable to act upon them when you would be leaving—you wouldn’t ruin your friendship and leave Jungkook here in that way.

“Earth to Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice knocks you out of your long reverie. You hadn’t even read a full page of your book as it’s still on the page you folded in the corner earlier.

“W-what? Sorry,” you snap out of it, turning to him as you put your sunglasses on your head.

“I said do you wanna head up soon? Make some dinner? Watch a movie tonight or something?” He asks. Your heart strings pull at the domesticity and you’re nodding before you even speak.

“Yeah,” your expression is soft, “Though you’re in charge of the cooking tonight. I’ve done it the past two nights,” you warn him.

He smirks, digging around his beach bag for his t-shirt to pull on, “Fine. Only if I get to pick the movie we watch.”

“Hey! That’s not fair!” You pout. After he pulls his shirt on—which you’re thankful for—he reaches over to pinch your thigh in retaliation. You jerk in reaction, “Asshole.”

He laughs again, both of you beginning to pack up your things. Though you don’t voice it, you love hearing his laugh.

∞

Jungkook prepares a small array of yummy dishes—tteokbokki, a chicken stir fry, cucumber salad, and of course a side of kimchi. Neither one of you had been to the store since you two arrived to the island on Sunday, so there wasn’t much else to work with now on Friday. You make a mental note to create a new list and go again tomorrow, still having another week of your two week trip. The cottage AirBnB was small but had everything you two needed for the vacation. A kitchen, dining room, living room with a pullout couch (that wasn’t being utilized), a bedroom with a king bed which even had a small balcony that overlooked the beach. You definitely lucked out in terms of booking the AirBnB on the quieter side of the island, having most of the beach to yourselves the last few days.

“Excuse me?” You’re laughing as you look at Jungkook dumbfounded from his words.

His mouth turns up in the right corner as he smiles, “You heard me,” he remarks, “We should do drugs.”

He carries on his task of drying the pan he used for the stir fry, looking at you with a kink in his pierced eyebrow. You narrow your eyes at him, leaning against the counter as you watch him, fighting your own smile.

“And where are you going to find drugs on this island?” You say pointedly.

“Sweetheart, you know I have connections,” he retorts back, putting the pan back into his respectful cabinet. If there was another thing that Jungkook did to turn you on; his cleanliness. He was the most organized man you had ever met—unsure if he was actually part of the male species given the track record of your other guy friends. He was cleaner and more organized than you most of the time.

“You’re ridiculous Jeon,” your roll your eyes, “Can I trust said drugs?”

His smirk spreads even wider, knowing that he’s got you now.

“Of course, Yoongi wouldn’t sell me anything sketchy,” he says quickly leaving the kitchen. You have no idea who this Yoongi guy is, but you go along with it. You cross your arms as you lean against the counter, your eyes drifting off to the beautiful sunset over the water. You felt lucky to spend your time like this with Jungkook. He quickly comes back, a plastic bag in hand.

“What is it?” You ask him curiously.

“It’s a chocolate chip cookie edible,” he pauses, holding up the bag as he observes it, “Think of it as a two for one; dessert and a high.”

You let out a laugh through your nose, grabbing the bag from him as you inspect it from the outside. As with any edible, it looks just like a normal cookie. You purse your lips, thinking about it for a moment. You hadn’t got high in awhile—since right before graduation actually. You and your roommates shared a nasty bong, with Lisa ultimately keeping it after you all moved out. You and Jungkook had your fair share of getting high together, whether it be at parties at the baseball house or his apartment on Sundays with his roommate Taehyung.

You open the bag, sniffing it as Jungkook watches you, clearly amused. You break off a small piece of the cookie, plopping it into your mouth knowing it will take at least an hour for you to start to feel the effects of it. It tastes good, although there’s still that tinge of THC that never goes away fully with baked edibles.

You walk up to Jungkook, shoving the bag into his chest, “I’m going to shower,” you announce. He nods, biting his lip as you walk away from him, his throat feeling slightly clogged. He watches your frame as you disappear into the bathroom, calling after you quickly.

“Don’t use all the hot water!” He says from the kitchen, digging in the bag to take out his own piece of the cookie. Maybe this would help him clear his head from you.

∞

You’re giggling uncontrollably as you scroll through your phone, small cackles coming from you lips occasionally.

“Y/N stop! Give me that!” Jungkook reaches over, attempting to take your phone away from you, but his own laughter taking control.

You and Jungkook had decided to forgo the movie, opting to enjoy the balcony attached to the bedroom. It was well past 10 PM now, the sun fully set and a couple small candles and the lamps from the bedroom the only light sources. For whatever reason, both of you had been on a path of looking at old pictures of each other, you hysterically laughing at one of them from high school when both of you decided to go to the school dance together as friends. You were mainly laughing at the way he styled his hair, even then at 16 you thought it was ridiculous.

“I don’t even know why you still have that picture,” he mutters in defeat on his side of the couch.

You furrow your eyebrows at him as you push his leg with your foot. He’s sat up, right leg underneath him, head resting on his hand as he looks at you. You’re laying on your back, legs outstretched over his lap.

“Why wouldn’t I?” You push, “I think I have every known picture of you thanks to your brother.”

It’s the truth—you had more baby pictures of Jungkook on your phone than you did of yourself. He was just too damn cute and awkward. You and Jungkook’s older brother had a good relationship throughout the years, Junghyun, always making sure to send you gems of your best friend when he found them. They looked similar, though Jungkook pulled more features from his dad, including the big eyes and big nose, whereas Junghyun looked more like their mother.

“God I can’t stand him,” he groans running a hand through his freshly dried and showered hair. He’s wearing a pair of sweatshorts and a t-shirt, his tattoos disappearing in the darkness. You’re wearing a tank top and sweatpants, feeling much better since your shower, even better since your high has kicked in.

“This was a good idea,” you completely change the subject, not even really sure of your own words.

He smiles at you, “I’m full of good ideas Y/N.”

His smile make your heart thump, unable to keep your mind from going there. Your intrusive thoughts only took over when you were intoxicated. You stare at his lips a little too long before you look at your phone to change the song playing lowly from Jungkook’s bluetooth speaker.

The thing about being friends with someone of the opposite species for so long—it’s that your friends could barely hold themselves from being shitheads sometimes. It was sophomore year—right before Jungkook’s accident—when you were at one of the many baseball parties you attended throughout college. While you were drunk, you knew that succumbing to truth or dare was your own doing. You should have seen it coming from a mile away when a mutual friend and teammate of Jungkook’s—Park Jimin—dared you to kiss him. If you had been more sober, you probably would have just taken the bitch cup and moved on with your life. Though being drunk and a little too curious after your years of friendship with Jungkook, you turned to him and pressed your lips against his. He—along with the entire group seemed taken aback at your actions—hearing whoops and ooo’s during the kiss.

Neither you nor Jungkook spoke about that after the party. It was almost as if it had never happened. It didn’t bother you too much given you were drunk and being silly. It was a brief kiss, no tongue, but enough to satiate your curiosity. At least at that point in time. Now, your curiosity was getting the best of you in other feats—though you’ve sworn to yourself you wouldn’t ever cross that line.

“Do you ever think about life in like, ten years?” Jungkook suddenly asks, his gaze off to the distance over the balcony. From the cottage, you could faintly hear waves still crashing.

“Hm,” you mumble, “I guess? I don’t know…”

He looks over at you, “I do,” he says simply.

“What does the Jeon Jungkook think about then?” You press, deciding to sit up some on the couch. You grab a pillow to support your back as you settle against the armrest of the couch.

“I think about being married, having kids, that sorta thing,” his voice is low, yet serious. Through your hazy gaze, you bite your lip nervously.

“That’s very adult of you,” you try to lighten the mood with a giggle. He doesn’t laugh, only returning a fainted smile.

“Do you not?” He looks away from you sounding rushed and little nervous, picking at loose skin along his cuticles.

You suddenly feel a lump form in your throat, pulse uneasy, anxiety rises in your veins. Of course you did.

“I mean yeah,” you offer weakly, “I guess I’ve just always been more concerned with the present,” you tell him honestly.

He nods, fully understanding—it’s how he used to think too until his accident. He never truly had to put much thought into his future until that day on the field changed his entire life. His future was set and then suddenly it wasn’t. Now, he worries about his future everyday and where life is going to take him. He thought he was going to play professional ball until his thirties, making enough money that he’d never have to worry about a real job. Turns out, life had other things in store for Jungkook. And with you leaving thousands of miles away; his life really wasn’t panning out how he thought.

“I like the idea of marriage you know?” He says with a hidden adoration in his tone. You find yourself softly smiling at him. “Like just having that one person for you, sharing a life together, does that sound stupid?” he exhales heavily after his question.

You quickly shake your head, “Not at all,” you say pulling your legs to sit criss-cross, “We’ll all get there one day.. I feel like our paths are set for us.”

He shrugs, feeling a little pessimistic, “I don’t know,” he breathes heavily, “I thought everything was going to work out a certain way… but I don’t know anymore,” he sounds defeated and sad. You look at him concerned, though you’re sure he’s just spitting high word vomit. You know a lot about Jungkook, but you’ve never heard him speak of such things—except during his relationship with Park Chaeyoung.

Chaeyoung was Jungkook’s first serious relationship in the time span you’d known him. They met at the end of sophomore year, but only officially began dating at the beginning of junior year. While Chaeyoung was beautiful and smart enough to make you feel insecure, you weren’t her biggest fan. She kept her distance from you and you don’t know if you could exactly blame her. You were Jungkook’s best friend who happened to be a female. You want to say if you were in her shoes that you wouldn’t care who was Jungkook’s best friend, but you’re not sure could 100% say that.

You first realized that Chaeyoung wasn’t particularly fond of you when you met Jungkook at the hospital after his accident; waiting to confirm his surgery date and time. Even though Jungkook didn’t want you to go, you were the one that actually ended up leaving to not make Chaeyoung uncomfortable. Throughout the rest of junior year, tension built between you and Chaeyoung, and some distance grew between you and Jungkook. You’re sure that she never knew about the kiss you two had shared the year before; she would have freaked the hell out.

Jungkook was in love with Chaeyoung though. He fell hard and he fell fast—giving all of his love and extra time to her. You can vividly remember him talking about how he thought she could be the one. He was a hopeless romantic at heart but it’s when Chaeyoung told him he couldn’t go on the Europe trip you two had been planning for months that he finally stood up to her. It didn’t go over well, with her jealously taking over to the point where he broke it off with her a couple weeks before you two departed.

You thought that the trip was going to be good for him to get his mind off her but when they were consistently communicating behind your back, that’s when arguments throughout the two week trip conspired between you and Jungkook. Finally, with four days left of your trip, he decided to stop contact with her and everything between you two only went up again from there.

Though right here, right now; you can’t help but think his words are about Chaeyoung. You knew that they were acquaintances this past school year and always cordial when they saw each other. You suddenly feel insecure in the dim light, but you plaster a fake smile on your face to rid your mind of Jungkook and his ex.

“Don’t sound so doom and gloom Jungkookie,” you push yourself up and over to him, trying to make him feel better. You sit on your knees up next to him, pinching his left cheek between your fingers. He giggles but you don’t stop, pinching from his cheek to his chin, to his ear.

“Y/N I swear to god—“ are his last threatening words that you should have taken seriously because it’s not long until you find yourself being tickled to death by him.

“Jungkook! Stop!” You laugh, trying to fight yourself away from him, but his grip is too strong as he keeps you in place against the couch. You’re kicking your legs to try to get away from him as he attacks your side with his own chuckles filling up the space. To any outsider listening in, it probably sounds like a fucked up murderer situation.

You don’t even realize what’s happened until you open your eyes fully, Jungkook pinning your wrists down, his body hovering on top of yours. He’s stood with one leg on the ground, his bad knee resting between your legs on the couch. It feels like the world has stopped as you stare into each other’s eyes, your breath hitching in your throat. Jungkook has to make a conscious effort to not stare at your cleavage rising up and down as you breath in and out heavily.

“I-I might go to bed soon,” you say nervously, breaking eye contact with him to unraveling yourself from his grip. He rises as you do to give you space, wiping his hands on his shorts.

He nods, “Me too,” is all he says.

You leave the balcony to go brush your teeth and change into your pajamas. Jungkook stays behind to blow out the candles and turn off his speaker, feeling a heaviness between you two now. As he turns the bed down, his own hands are clammy, his high waring off faster than he would like. Both of you had no issue sharing the king bed when you booked the AirBnB a couple months ago, but now he’s fully regretting that decision. When Jungkook comes back from the kitchen with two glasses of water for you both, he finds you already climbing into bed in your cute matching, purple PJ set.

“Thank you,” you smile at him as he hands you the glass. You take a sip, feeling cotton mouth arise from the edible.

He climbs into bed soon after, turning off the lamp on his side of the bed encasing both of you in pure darkness.

“Goodnight Y/N,” are his last words that evening.

“Night Jungkook,” you say weakly as you’re facing away from him on your side. While you two have already made invisible boundaries when sharing the bed this past week, you make more of a conscious effort than ever to keep space between you two as you both drift off into sleep.

∞

It’s been a few days since your edible escapades with Jungkook. Both of you have seemingly moved on from the conversations had, the tension that had built up subsiding over the next few days. Now you two are back again at the beach in your normal routine. Jungkook’s just go out in the water from surfing and you’re laying on your tummy, starting the second book of your vacation. You decided to go with something different for you—a thriller about a writer brought in by another author’s husband to finish her books for her as she lies in a coma. Weird.

You know Jungkook’s back from the water when you feel water droplets scatter across your back. You look up from your book to find Jungkook sat down on his towel beside you, rubbing his right knee.

“You okay?” You ask him with concern. His major surgery scar is still less than two years old, therefore it’s still quite white and reflective in the sunlight.

He glances over to you before nodding, “Yeah I’m good, it’s just kind of stiff from surfing on it so much.”

You can’t help but feel an extreme amount of sadness when you watch him massage his skin. Your resting your chin on your hand as you study him carefully. From the moment you met Jungkook, baseball was his complete identity. It’s why people came up to him even if he didn’t want the attention. It’s what taught him discipline and hard work ethic. It’s what made him happy. The fact it was taken away from him so quickly terrifies you. You can’t even imagine the internal battles he’s had ever since that fateful day.

“Swim with me?” He suddenly asks.

Through the top of your sunglasses you glare at him, a groan leaving your mouth, “Jungkook you know how much I hate swimming in the ocean.”

He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, “Y/N there aren’t sharks in this part of the ocean,” he laughs.

You close your book not wanting to lose your place, “You don’t know that!” You retort.

He laughs again, this time ruffling your hair slightly, “I’ll protect you…” he trails off, a small pout crossing his features, “Plus it’ll make this feel better,” he’s referring to his knee.

Ugh, he really knew how to convince you.

You then agree, both getting up at the same time. You adjust your bikini to which Jungkook stares shamelessly. Your skin goes hot and you pretend you don’t see him doing so. You walk side by side to the water, a yelp leaving your lips when you feel how cold it is.

“Fuck Jungkook! It’s cold!” You whine as he continues his descent deeper. You’ve stopped at where the water hits your ankles, he’s at his knees.

“C’mon princess,” he whines back and the nickname gives you butterflies, “I’ll drag your ass in here if you don’t move woman!”

“Ugh,” you spit, “I’m coming,” you slowly walk towards him as he continues to walk deeper until he’s about to his chest, finally letting himself float against the waves after he gets over where they break.

“Y/N,” he says threateningly as you’ve stopped where the water hits your waist.

“Jungkook,” you respond but suddenly your heart sinks when he dips his body below water, disappearing beneath the surface. Your eyes widen as you look around paranoid. You know exactly what he’s up to. Though you’re expecting it, you have no time to brace yourself when Jungkook has suddenly grabbed your leg, pulling you beneath the water. You’re screaming, bubbles escaping your mouth until you reach the surface.

Jungkook has broken the water only a few inches from you as he laughs loudly, tipping his head bad. You push water towards his face, anger filling your body.

“Fuck you Jungkook!” You yell, his continuous laughter pissing you off even more.

You launch at him in the water, hiking yourself up onto his back as punishment. You wrap your legs around his torso and he adjusts you comfortably. If he was going to protect you, he really was going to protect you.

“I really hate you sometimes,” you mutter into his ear, his back rumbling against your chest as he chuckles.

“You love me,” he retorts.

You really do.

“See this isn’t too bad,” he then says looking over his shoulder to meet your gaze.

“We’re sitting ducks Jungkook,” you mumble, eyes looking around the water, still slightly paranoid. There’s a few other people in the water and a couple surfers which makes you feel a little better.

“It’s okay to get out of your comfort zone you know,” he raises a brow when you climb off his back, deciding to swim close in front of him. Both of you float with only a few inches between you two, water at your chests.

“Mhm,” you say sarcastically, “That’s what they all say before they’ve gotten their leg bit off,” you move your arms around to keep you wading. Thankfully it didn’t take long to get used to the chilly water.

He bites his lip as he watches you with an amused expression. You push away the way it makes you feel.

“You know that’s why I wanted to be your friend right?”

You furrow your eyebrows, moving to float on your back. Jungkook being the gentlemen he is, he ends up beside you, his arms giving your back some support in the water as you float.

“What do you mean?” You ask him.

You can’t see his expression as you’ve closed your eyes, the sun too bright to keep them open. His fingertips graze your skin every few seconds and you swear it feels like electricity running through your spine.

“You’ve always been the one to get me out of my comfort zone,” he points out like it’s obvious—though you’ve never had an inkling of this.

You open one eye at him in a squint, his face a lot closer to yours than you expected, “I don’t think so,” you laugh a little awkwardly as you give up on floating, settling back to your normal swimming position with him in front of you.

“I wouldn’t lie Y/N,” he laughs in return, “You’ve known me for a long time, you know how fucking weird I used to be.”

“Hey you weren’t weird,” you defend him, “Just a little awkward and going through puberty.”

He rolls his eyes, “Fucking weird,” he repeats, “I just mean I’ve never had a friend that’s always pushed me to do things I normally wouldn’t do. Hell just the vacations we’ve taken together is just one example,” he pauses, his next words cutting him a little deep, “I feel like you’re the reason I ever had a life outside of baseball.”

You bite your lip under the water as you don’t break his heavy eye contact. You’d never realize Jungkook thought that highly of you. It makes you feel giddy on the inside, but also a little sad that you were never that confident in your abilities as a friend. If anything, you thought Jungkook brought you out of your shell more.

“I’m just a small part of your life Jungkook,” is what you settle on.

They way his face falls doesn’t go unnoticed, “Trust me,” he pauses beginning a swim back to shore for you to follow him, “You’re a pretty big part Y/N.”

∞

It’s now Friday, which means you and Jungkook only have one and a half days left of your trip. The thought makes you sad, though you know that it’s not like you wouldn’t be seeing Jungkook afterwards. He lives in the same neighborhood as you for chrissakes. But given the loom of your impending move in a couple months, you couldn’t help but feel a finality of your life here coming soon.

You and Jungkook had gone out a couple times since being here, though neither of you had fully committed to getting too drunk. You had a feeling though that tonight you were ready to full let loose. Jungkook complimented you as soon as you were ready to leave, sending heat through your body. You were wearing a white two piece set—a small bralette type top with a matching mini-skirt that wrapped around your waist nicely. Your strappy heels gave you some height to Jungkook and you’re sure to any other tourist, you two looked like a couple.

Jungkook looked absolutely ravishing, the familiar lump of the past couple weeks forming when you laid eyes on him. He was dressed in an extravagant short sleeve button that was a yellow and white along with white pants to tie everything in. You almost laughed one, being you’re 99% sure the shirt is Fendi—how the hell did he afford that?—and two, you’re not sure you’d seen him in anything in sweatpants and t-shirts since graduation. Even then, it took you and Taehyung a lot of convincing for Jungkook to wear dress pants under his cap and gown.

You and Jungkook had ate dinner at a local sushi bar, getting a couple drinks there to pregame your evening. You don’t know how Jungkook ate and drank so much and keep the figure he had. It had to be genetics; there’s no other way.

It was now a little past 9 and both of you were feeling drunk—a good drunk—a happy drunk. The bar you two were at was partially outside, with a dance floor and good drinks. You and Jungkook are talking to a couple who also happen to be on vacation.

“Honeymooning is fun for sure,” the woman says, her words a little slurred, “Are you two honeymooning too?”

Both you and Jungkook begin to stutter, shaking your heads awkwardly, mumbling your words together.

“We’re not together,” you manage to get out as you lean against the bar for stability. Jungkook’s stood behind you, his chest touching your shoulder as his arm sits behind your frame protectively.

The new husband’s eyes widen, “Could’ve fooled me,” he says, “Right honey?”

“I agree Joon,” she eyes you up and down, clearly shameless as she does so. “Let’s go dance baby!” She suddenly exclaims. The couple—Namjoon and Camille—bid their farewells to you and Jungkook, leaving you two alone again at the bar.

You suddenly feel a little awkward under the strangers gaze, looking up and over at Jungkook. He’s giving them a straight smile before his eyes watch them walk away, an amused expression filling his eyes as he begins to laugh.

“You want another drink, honey?” He suddenly asks through a joke and you crack a smile, turning around to playfully push him. You catch a whiff of his scent as you stare at him intently, trying to ignore the deep stir of heat in your tummy. His gaze his vibrant as you take his sunglasses tucked from his shirt and place them over your eyes.

“If you’re paying Jeon,” you smile at him wickedly.

Jungkook orders both of you tequila shots, both of your faces scrunching up when you bite the lime for some relief. You have chills running down your spine, trying your best to keep the contents down.

“We’re going to be hurting tomorrow,” you say, sliding the shot glass back towards the bartender.

“I don’t even want to think about it,” he groans, suddenly reaching out to grab his phone. It’s buzzing in his hand, “It’s Junghyun,” he looks at you, “I’ll be right back?”

You nod, telling him you’d be right here. You watch as he walks away from you, a deep exhale escaping you. You’re intoxicated again—intrusive thoughts taking over your brain. You reminiscence over the last two weeks with Jungkook here. He makes you so incredibly happy and you’re sure that if you let yourself, you’d fall deeply in love with him—more than you already are. You’ve been through thick and thin together. You can’t let yourself go there though—it couldn’t happen. The friendship you two had between each other was too important to you. You’re not even sure Jungkook could even feel these feelings towards you. For all you know, he was just talking about his shitty ex the other day.

Your thoughts are interrupted when suddenly a man appears in front of you. A man that’s not Jungkook. He’s leaning his elbows on the bar as he waits for the bartender to take his order. He gives you a glance and you stare shamelessly. He’s quite attractive, that’s for damn sure.

“You want a drink sweetheart?” He suddenly asks, the pet name not sounding as good as it does coming from your best friend.

You find your voice over the music, “I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him knowing if you drink anymore, you’d be crossing the line of fun drunk to a miserable blackout.

He nods respecting what you’ve said, ordering two shots of whiskey for himself. You look around the bar trying to find Jungkook. It’s loud and crowded, but you haven’t been able to spot him in that ridiculous yellow shirt. You wonder what Junghyun needed that’s taking so long.

“What’s your name?” The strangers asks you as he turns his body to face yours completely.

You lean towards him some to save your voice, “Y/N,” you tell him.

A charming smile spreads across his face, “Well miss Y/N, why is a beautiful girl at this bar alone?”

You’ve dealt with many men of this caliber, so his words don’t creep you out much. Internally you applaud him for using the term beautiful, and not the typical hot or pretty.

“I’m not alone,” you tell him. He looks around the area you both are, your point not withstanding, “What’s your name?” You change the subject.

He downs his second shot of whiskey, “Jackson. It’s nice to meet you,” he offers his hand graciously and you shake it in return.

“Well Jackson,” you pause, feeling that tequila shot getting to you, “Why are you here at this bar alone?”

He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you, “I’m not alone either,” he retorts.

You nod slowly, a small smile spreading across your lips. Again, your eyes do another dance around the bar to spot Jungkook to no avail.

“Do you want to dance with me Miss Y/N?” He suddenly asks taking you completely off guard. You open your mouth then close it, only to open it again to say nothing. You should say no. You know in your heart you should say no. However with no sign of Jungkook and this Jackson guy seeming like a normal guy, you felt no guilt when you take his hand for him to take you to the dance floor.

The bar has great club and house music playing, making dancing an easy feat. Jackson is a great dancer, finding the rhythm to the songs easily as the DJ switches them rapidly. You find yourself comfortable with him, resting your hands lazily on his shoulders as he guides you through the motions. Maybe you’re too drunk, or you’re just relaxed, but you feel good in this moment. It reminds you of being a college freshman with Lisa, when you two would go to sweaty frat and baseball parties, dancing the night away with water bottles filled with cheap vodka.

The tide between you and Jackson folds when you turn around, unknowingly pressing your back to his chest. You both are swaying in the changing lights, his arms resting on your waist protectively, his head resting on your left shoulder. You’ve always been a decent dancer too, Jackson finding it impressive as you keep up with each other. When you find a hand gripping at Jackson’s hair pulling him closer to you, it’s when reality hits, time freezing in that very moment. You’ve opened your eyes after sometime, across the bar Jungkook walks in, his eyes finding yours instantaneously. His lips part, a painful expression crossing his features. He watches you only for a moment, his heels turning himself around to leave you be, heart feeling like someone’s crucifying it.

You suddenly panic, creating immediate space between you and Jackson. You turn around and lean up to his ear.

“I’m sorry, I really have to go—“ you tell him in a rush. He’s clearly confused but before you can listen to whatever he has to say, your feet pick you up to the path Jungkook must have taken to get out of here. It’s difficult to get through the crowd of people, especially in your heels and drunkenly, but you manage.

When you go to the outsider area of the bar, you don’t spot him. Shit, you think, where did he go? You start to panic, reaching for your phone out of your purse. You quickly scroll to his name, hitting the call button. You groan with an eye-roll—of course he isn’t going to fucking answer you.

You’re not completely sure he’s not in the bar anymore, but you chance it, leaving the bar alone. Thankfully the streets are well lit and there are plenty of people around to make you feel safe. You’re typing him a mean text as you walk back towards your cottage, ready to curse him out when you see him. That is, until you actually see him—then your mind goes blank.

Jungkook’s sat on the curb of a small, local convenient store eating what seems to be an ice cream sandwich. You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Jungkook!” You nearly exclaim, “What the hell are you doing?” You approach him, stumbling slightly in your heels.

He quickly notices how unstable you are, standing up to steady you, “You okay Y/N?”

You push him off you, “No the fuck I’m not okay,” you spit at him, “You just left me there?” You’re drunk and frustrated, that’s all you know.

“Here,” he offers the rest of his ice cream sandwich. You can’t resist him and you take it, eating it in two bites. He watches you carefully before saying, “Sorry, I just thought you were preoccupied.”

You throw away the paper wrapper, looking at him like he’s crazy.

“Are you for real Jungkook?” You press, not caring if you’re bringing attention to the two of you as people pass by. He shoves his hands into his pockets, exhaling heavily.

“You want to go home?” He asks with straight lips. You cross your arms over your chest angrily, what the hell was his problem?

“Do you want to go home?” You ask him in retaliation.

He only looks a you a brief moment before nodded slowly. This conversation is seriously sobering you up faster than anything has ever before and nothing productive has even be said.

He turns around, “C’mon,” he says.

“What do you mean?” You ask him confused as he’s widened his stance, as if he’s ready for you to plow over him.

“Hop on Y/N,” he says, “And don’t even try to fight me on this. I know your feet are killing you.”

He wants to piggy back you home. You stay put, hands playing with each other awkwardly staring at his back. He glances over his shoulder and says your name again.

“B-but your k-knee Jungkook,” you say hesitantly. You knew Jungkook weight lifted and did enough cardio for him to live until he was 105, but the last thing you wanted was for him to injure himself again, especially because of you.

“It’s fine Y/N, I promise,” he says, “I just want to get you home.”

As you brace yourself on his shoulders, you try to jump as light as possible to lessen the blow to his body. He catches you gracefully, adjusting your knees in his hands. And home is where you two go.

∞

After you two walk into the threshold of the cottage—you insisting on walking the last little bit of the way—a parable tension that could be cut with a knife has settled between you two. You tried your best to talk to him on the way back, but his answers were short and uninterested. You only had remnants of your drunkenness left inside you and if anything, you were tightening back up, even angrier than when you left the bar.

Jungkook’s about to walk into your shared bedroom before you call after him.

“Wait Jungkook!” You say. He stops in his tracks, turning to look at you. His face is unreadable in the dim lights of the cottage. “What the fuck happened back there?” You ask him as you take off your heels, leaving them by the couch.

“It’s nothing Y/N,” he brushes you off, turning around to continue his path to the bedroom. Of course you follow him; he expected it.

“Jungkook, come onnn,” you press, “Are you that pissed that I was dancing with someone else?” You can’t hide your anger and frustration if you tried. This wasn’t fair to you. He had paraded girls throughout college— parading Chaeyoung for a year and a half in front of you—and you never said anything about it no matter how much it bothered you.

“Y/N it’s fine, can we just,” he pauses as he looks over at you, “Just drop it?” He’s taking off his rings and bracelets, your lip tucked between your teeth.

You make an unsatisfied noise, stepping closer to him, “No we fucking can’t. What’s your problem Jungkook?”

He leans on the dresser with both hands, his muscle definition showing through his shirt as he tenses up. His jaw clenches as he closes his eyes in deep reverie. You watch him carefully, knowing you probably should tread lightly given he’s pissed. But you know what? You’re pissed too. He can’t act like that with no explanation—that’s not fair to you.

“Junghyun called me about you, you know,” are his first words as he looks over to you.

“M-me?” You stutter, confusion lacing your tone.

He pushes himself off the dresser, though he keeps distance between you two. He suddenly runs a frustrated grip through his hair, messing it up slightly.

“You know, since you’re moving halfway across the fucking globe,” he sounds bitter, though deep dejection is mainly what you hear. You moving had been a sensitive topic with him ever since the interview stage happened with you months ago. It hurt you to speak about it with Jungkook the most. The thought of leaving him crushed both of you which is why neither of you had brought it up these past two weeks.

“He was asking me if I had done it yet,” he laughs sarcastically, “Of fucking course he was.”

You’re more confused than ever and you say his name in a whisper, but he continues.

“You know the other day when you said that you were only a small part of my life, that’s when it really hit me,” he pauses, “You really don’t know how much you fucking mean to me Y/N. You’ve been my best friend for so long, been there with me through so much of my bullshit—my accident, losing my scholarship, losing my fucking life—“ he inhales deeply and you suddenly feel dizzy, unsure of where this conversation has turned.

“—And now I’m fucking losing you and I can’t even be honest with you because it doesn’t matter,” his voice breaks off as he looks at his feet. You start to panic, a roller coaster of emotions pulsing through you.

You step towards him hesitantly, “Jungkook you can always be honest with me,” you grab his forearm, “I’m your best friend for fucksakes—stop with the hysterics and just tell me what’s wrong,” you plead with him. If your words weren’t enough, your eyes were giving a show.

His bottom lip trembles as he meets your gaze. You have adrenaline running through you as he moves to rest his hands on your waist, gripping the skin tight.

“I love you Y/N,” he says letting out a deep breath before he can second guess himself.

“I know,” you tell him, “Jungkook you know I love you too.. you’re scaring me—“

“No Y/N,” he shakes his head, “I’m in love with you—like fucking crazy about you Y/N.”

His words take your breath away, stumbling slightly as you can’t believe the words he’s saying. He’s what? Jungkook’s in love with you? You part your lips, unable to form sentences, shaking your head stunned

“You don’t have to say anything,” he looks down, his forehead brushing yours, “But I couldn’t let you move without telling you—I don’t know how long it’s been but it just happened one day and I haven’t stopped since.”

“Jungkook,” you finally whisper after some silence, your palms finding solace on his broad chest, “I-I don’t know what to say,” you pause looking up through your lashes. You feel like you could cry from the up and down of your emotions.

You both stare at each other, unsure of who is going to make the next move. You decide that it will be you.

“B-but when we talked the other night about the future and stuff… I thought you were talking about Chaeyoung,” you admit, feeling a little dumb now that this secret has been spilled.

Jungkook lets out a laugh, unsure he heard you correctly, “Y/N—what, no, I haven’t spoken to Chaeyoung in months at this point,” he pauses, his strong hands gripping your forearms gently, “I was talking about you.. it’s always been you.”

There’s a silence that falls; a war raging in your head as you go through as many memories as you can with Jungkook. He’s been there for you at any moment you’ve needed him and vice versa. You couldn’t imagine a life without him and right now—you’ve finally decided in allowing yourself to be honest.

“Y/N I know this is unfair since you’re leaving but—“

“I love you too Jungkook,” you interrupt him to which he responds with a mellow what, “I know that I’m in love with you Jungkook—I have for some time now, I just didn’t want to admit it.. I-I was scared and I didn’t know how to bring it up, fuck I’m sorry—“

You’re suddenly cut off with Jungkook’s lips covering yours. You instantly melt into his lips as your eyes close, your hands finding their way around his neck to pull him down to you. After a few moments, he pulls away from you, rubbing his nose against yours.

“Is this real?” He asks, a small smile playing on his lips; all anxiousness leaving your body at once. You return a small smile, nodding in his delicate hold.

“Real,” you whisper back, chasing after his lips once again.

This time when your lips meet his, it’s more aggressive from each side, pouring out all frustration and built up pining over the years into it. His tongue opens your mouth wider and you sigh into him, tangling your fingers into his soft hair. His hands slither down from your waist to over your ass, pressing your hips into his.

You’d never thought kissing someone could feel this good. Your entire body feels aflame as you both discover each others mouths piece by piece. Jungkook’s walked you backwards against the wall, holding you up against it firmly as you both continue to kiss each other feverishly. You rest your head against the wall as his lips move from yours to your neck, your breathing intensifying as he kisses and nips gently.

“Jungkook,” you breathe heavily, as he places a kiss on your exposed shoulder, moving the flimsily strap to your top down. You get bolder with your own actions, maneuvering your hands underneath his shirt feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

His lips find yours again, “I wanted this for so long Y/N,” he mumbles against your skin as you pull him taut to you. “Remember sophomore year? When you kissed me for that dare?”

“Mhm,” you murmur in response as his hand experimentally trails its way up to cup your left breast, “How could I forget?” You tell him through a slight whine when he squeezes you through the thin material of your top.

He smirks against your lips, tugging on your bottom lip ever so slightly, “I was so happy when you didn’t drink that bitch cup,” he admits. You can’t help but giggle at his words, one of your hands resting on the back of his neck to hold him close to you, “And this is much better than that.”

You nip at his mouth again, “I agree,” you pause, your other hand playing with the buttons on his shirt, “Can I take this off?” You ask through your lashes; your voice soft and patient.

Jungkook emits deep groan from his throat, “Is this okay with you?” He suddenly asks.

You immediately nod, “Yes, yes, of course,” you begin your slow assault at his shirt buttons, undoing them one at a time.

He kisses your forehead, “Okay… I just,” he pauses, “I’m just a little nervous,” he admits as he grapples at your waist again, pulling you flush against him. He’s got a growing bulge in his pants, making your squeeze your thighs together.

“Why are you nervous?” You gaze at him with stars in your eyes, finding everything about him endearing and so lovable.

He rests his forehead against yours, “I don’t know I’ve just thought about this for forever,” he pauses, “I want you to feel safe.”

You smile sweetly at him, “I always feel safe with you Jungkook,” you tell him reassuringly. You lean forward, placing a kiss on his exposed chest when you finally undo the last button. You waste no time pushing the fabric off his golden skin, tattoos and all on fully display.

“When did you get so hot?” You pout in between his kisses along your neck and collarbone. He chuckles into your skin, his hands now exploring both of your breasts through the fabric.

“I’ve been wondering the same with you,” he kisses right between your cleavage, his fingers finding the zipper at the back of your top.

“Please—“ your breath hitches when the cold air makes your nipples taut as he drags your shirt away, “Have you seen yourself?” You’ve barely finish your sentence until Jungkook’s lips are wrapping around your right nipple, sucking and teething at the sensitive.

“Have you seen yourself Y/N?” He mumbles into your skin, paying attention to your left nipple now. “My pretty girl,” he breathes out pulling away from you, sending a fire through your veins. He grabs your hands and pulls you towards the bed not too far from the wall.

You straddle him as you reconnect your lips together, rutting against him as your hips grind down. A shiver of pleasure runs through you, a subtle moan vanishing in his mouth.

“Fuck,” he says, “Do that again, I like hearing you.”

You chuckle, kissing near his ear, “Make me,” you challenge. Jungkook bites his lip, the grip on your hips tightening.

Being as competitive as he is—it’s a challenge he’s willing to accept.

Jungkook is suddenly flipping you two over, settling between your thighs, tits shaking as you readjust yourself. You spread your legs a little so he can sit comfortably on his knees between you, his bulge more prominent than ever, straining in his white pants. Your mouth literally waters as his hands push up your skirt, exposing your skimpy little lace thong that’s barely covering your cunt at this point.

“Goddamn,” he gulps at the sight, his eyes flicking to yours quickly as your chest rises up and down in anticipation. You’re already so turned on—so wet just for him. If it was any other guy, you’d probably feel embarrassed but you were telling them truth when you said you felt safe with him.

His tattooed hand slides down to your inner thigh, a couple of his fingers running over your clothed heat. Your hips cant outwards as he does this a couple times before he decides to ultimately pull your panties off, leaving them strung across the room somewhere.

You hold his gaze as he spits onto his fingertips, now finding your bare pussy exposed for him in all its glory. He doesn’t waste time in dipping a finger inside you to test the waters. When your mouth falls open, he takes it as a good sign when you start to beg him for more.

“Jungkook please,” you push out your hips, trying to get the most of one finger though it’s no use. “I need more,” you whine.

He leans down, placing a kiss to your lips, “I know baby, I know,” you gasp when he adds in another finger, a steady strong of moans escaping you when he begins a gentle rhythm in and out of you. It’s torture the way it feels so so good, yet it’s still leaving you wanting more.

He gets a hold of your right leg, holding it up slightly so he can penetrate deeper inside with his fingers, his thumb rubbing up against the hood of your clit.

“Hold yourself open for me baby,” he says to which you obey, holding onto the side of your leg just as he was, “Good girl,” he praises you, which creates even more slick arousal.

From here, he takes one of his hands to pull your clitoral hood open, using his other to circle your bud and enter your pussy in alternating motions.

“Ah, shit—“ your hips jerk against him when you begin to feel yourself start to climb that hill to an orgasm. Your continuously moaning was sending him mad and your glistening cunt was a full invitation for him.

He shifts his weight, his lips meeting your center to which your back arches off the mattress, a strained whine from you as he flicks his tongue over your clit. It’s obscene the way he gives you head—it’s hot and messy, little to no friction as he goes from focus on your hole with both his fingers and mouth, to sucking heavily on your clit. You could feel yourself dripping on the sheets underneath you, the wetness making Jungkook involuntarily push his cock into the mattress.

“Jungkook—I’m gonna come,” you manage through your tight breaths.

“Yeah baby?” He muses against you, the vibration of his voice sending a shockwave through your already swollen clit. You nod desperately into the bed, holding his head down with your left hand as your hips chase to meet his movements.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” chants fall from your lips when you feel yourself tip over the edge, falling heavily into an orgasm that overtakes your entire body. You don’t even care if you’re loud as you moan and rile beneath him, your pussy clenching around his fingers before he pulls them out to watch your cunt clench around nothing.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he marvels as you come down from your high, your body clearly relaxed now as you find time to catch your breath. You lean up on your elbows as he meets you halfway to kiss you again. He tastes like you as he tongues the inside of your mouth carefully.

You scoot your body down some, hands finding the front of his pants. You can tell he’s big just by running your hand over his cock through the clothes. He inhales a sharp intake of breath when you squeeze him a little. You break your kiss to focus on getting him out of the fabric, unzipping and unbuttoning his pants quickly. You take notice of his white Calvin Kleins as he helps you push them down past his ankles.

In a rush, you tug down the front of his boxers—breath hitching in the back of your throat. He was big—the biggest you’ve ever seen—thick and long between his muscular set of thighs.

You whine when you take him in, never experiencing a want for someone so badly in your entire life.

“Can I please suck it?” You whisper, your words sounding like sweet saccharine to his ears. As tempting as that sounds for him, he wasn’t sure how long he would last with you, and he needed to be inside of your pussy when he came.

“Not right now baby,” he says firm in his tone, “I want to be inside you so bad,” he sounds just as desperate as you feel.

You nod quickly as you begin to take your skirt off since it’s still the last piece of clothing on you. Jungkook’s hands stop you quickly.

“No, no,” he chuckles, “Gonna fuck you in this pretty skirt,” he places a zealous kiss on your lips one more time before he suddenly gets up hurrying over to one of his duffle bags. He returns quickly and you watch carefully as you notice him tearing open a condom packet, his abs visible each time he breathes.

“You brought condoms?” You ask him curiously.

He smirks as he begins to roll it down over his fully hardened cock, “I’ve been bringing them with us everywhere since we went to Europe,” he explains as he instructs you to scoot back some. The thought makes you feel bubbly on the inside, laughing at him some.

“So you’ve just assumed that we’re gonna fuck one day then?” You ask him as he settles between you, rubbing his tip against your folds.

He closes his eyes briefly, before smirking again, “Never assumed, just hoped,” he lines himself up with your entrance, having to fight not to just slam right into you, “I’ll start slow okay?”

You nod as you grip behind his neck and shoulder with each hand. Once Jungkook begins to push into you, you literally forget how to breathe. Jungkook groans as he bites his lip in full concentration, pushing a little farther.

“It’s okay, breathe baby,” he encourages, “I know you can take it. My baby can take it, right?”

He knows very well you can—he just wants to hear you say it in your voice that’s laced in honey and arousal for him.

You nod faster that you ever had, “God, yes Jungkook I can, yes I can,” you finally find your oxygen as he pushes in slowly to the hilt. Your jaw was slack as his forehead rests against your own, a burning between your legs but pleasurable enough that you begin to involuntarily clench around him.

“Shit baby, don’t do that,” he warns, “This tight little pussy is all mine, right?”

“Of course Jungkook—“ he pulls back, then pushing back in, your hips canting upward to help him fulfill every inch inside you. “Oh my god—“ you whimper as he slowly begins to find his pace.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“Yes, fuck yes, Jungkook just please don’t stop,” you beg, “Go faster, please.”

One of his hands grip your right hip, the other fisting the sheets by your head as he does as he’s told, picking his pace up slowly but surely as the seconds pass. Its blissful heaven having him fill you up so good. You’d never thought you’d be in this position with Jungkook, but as time passes you wish that you two had got around to it a lot sooner.

With each snap of his hips, your body moves upwards given force. A mantra of noises come from you as you watch his brows furrow from above you, strained groans and breathes escaping his lips. You could feel the simmering of another orgasm approaching you as his perfect stroke hits your g-spot. You grab at his face to steady him; his pace thrown off a bit when you lean up to kiss his lips gently.

“Let me get on top,” you whisper to him. He tugs on your lip, unsure if he wants to give up control but with you, he’d relinquish any day. He pulls out, leaving you hallow with you quickly pushing him off of you and down to the mattress. His back is rested against the pillows and headboard to which you grab with one hand, using your another hand to line yourself back up with him.

After you sink down, your arousal making it easy this time—you begin to find a pace against him that’s calculated to hit your insides in all the right areas. Jungkook grips your hips, pushing your skirt up slightly as he marvels up at you, drunk in a haze of you and you only. With uneven breaths, you can tell you’re on the verge of coming again, so he licks his thumb before he places it on your clit. Each touch of your hips presses firmly against his finger, explicative falling from your lips in a rush.

“God—Jungkook, I-I can’t,” you choke out, squeezing around him tightly as he begins to push his own hips up to meet yours.

One of his hands makes it way to your throat, pulling your forehead down to his as he takes the oxygen away from you. It’s too much—it’s all too much.

“Yes baby, you can,” he encourages, “My pretty girl, come with me,” he adds after he begins to hold you in place some, shoving his hips up in a brutal pace to chase his own climax.

It doesn’t take long for your second orgasm to hit, hit tipping backwards as you let out a half-scream of his name, jumbled together with high pitched moans. It goes on longer than your last one, convulsing around his cock as you lean forward in a daze.

Jungkook’s close—his lip tucked into his teeth, brows deeply furrowed as he continues his pace up inside you. With a bated breath, he announces he’s going to come and you encourage him just as he did you. He spills into the condom with a whiney groan in submission to you, his movements coming to end an end shortly after he rides his climax out.

He’s got his arms wrapped around your torso and you cradle him to your chest as you both try to catch your breaths. He lifts your hips slightly to let himself fall out of you, though he keeps you close to him after, looking up at you through a lazy smile.

You return one to him, meeting your lips to his. The kiss is gentle and love worthy as your heart swells so much it feels like it could burst for the man beneath you.

You pull away from him, “Can I take this skirt off now?”

He chuckles before nodding, placing a kiss on your shoulder before you move off of him to discard the final article of clothing on your frame. You climb back into bed after you throw on a slinky tank top and use the bathroom—a UTI was not going to plague you. Jungkook pulls on a pair of briefs, opening his arms up to you once he climbs back in. You cuddle up right next to him, an arm slung around his bare chest, leg over his as he pulls you closer with one arm. The two you mindlessly talk about nothing before you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. The last thing you recall is Jungkook placing a kiss on your head, telling you that he loves you again, leaving little to no space between each other this time on the bed.

∞

The bright sun is what wakes you up the next morning, a strained mumble coming from you as you stretch out on the bed. You’re halfway on your back, halfway on your side when you open your eyes. You rub them with your knuckles to clear them of any matter. When the room fully focuses, you freeze in your position, stomach dropping a little bit. Your head hurts from the alcohol but it wasn’t enough alcohol to make you forget what happened.

You and Jungkook had had sex and professed pining love to each other.

You quickly turn over to find yourself alone in the bed, your anxiety and cortisol levels skyrocketing. You also take notice that Jungkook’s not out on the balcony that connects to the room. You sit up a little too quickly for your headache, taking a moment to steady yourself.

You grab your phone off the nightstand, checking the time and any messages you have. There’s only a few that you decide you’ll answer later. Nothing from Jungkook.

You push the sheets and duvet off your frame, hurrying over to your suitcase to pull on a pair of shorts. You quickly make your way out of the bedroom, finding the living and kitchen space empty. Maybe he was in the bathroom?

“Jungkook?” You call out. No answer.

You suddenly feel like you’re going to get sick. Insecurity and all other horrifying thoughts cross your brain. Did he leave you here? Did he get scared and go home? Did he really fuck you only to leave you?

You feel like you could cry as you lean onto the couch for support. You hold back your tears, breathing heavily in and out to keep yourself calm.

Where the fuck—

The door to the cottage is suddenly unlocked, pushing open to reveal your best friend in all his glory. He’s dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, carrying a brown bag in one hand, balancing two coffees on his arm.

“Oh, good morning!” He flashes his million dollar smile at you as he sets down all of his belongings on the kitchen island.

You stand there with a pout, not saying anything to him. He looks at you slightly confused, walking over to see what’s wrong.

“Are you okay?” He asks with concern, grabbing gently behind your elbows.

You push at his chest with flat palms, “I thought you left me,” you whine. A smile cracks open as he laughs some.

“Why would I have left you?” He questions you, “I just went and got us some breakfast while you were still sleeping,” he explains.

“Well I can see that now,” you push back, “I just thought.. maybe you got scared and left,” you trail off, looking away from him now that you feel a little dumb for jumping to such horrible conclusions.

Jungkook pulls you in for a hug to which you return it like a kid grabbing onto their teddy bear tightly.

“I would never do that Y/N,” he says placing a kiss to your head, squeezing you playfully as he sways you dramatically, “I’m kind of offended that you think I would,” he then says with a pinch to your ass cheek.

“Ow!” You push yourself off of him with a laugh, “Sorry, it’s just,” you chew on your lip when you meet his gaze, “I don’t really know how to go about this whole friends to lovers thing.”

He pulls you to the kitchen so you two can begin to eat your breakfast. The coffee is great; just what you needed to cure your headache.

“It’s simple,” he says as he sits down beside you after he’s placed your breakfast sandwiches out.

“Is it really?” You push through a mouthful of food—gross you know, but Jungkook was the last person to care.

He quirks that pierced eyebrow at you that just drives you absolutely mad, “Hell yeah. We’re still best friends we’re just gonna have lots of sex now.”

You look at him stunned before you both are laughing hysterically together. Maybe he is right. Simple. As the two of you eat your breakfast, you can’t help but feel so very happy but also so very sad. The two of you have created a bubble of paradise and it’s going to burst as soon as you get back on the plane to head back home.

“Jungkook,” you say, turning the conversation serious after you both have finished your meals. He responds with a hm? “I’m still moving after the summer,” you bring it up hesitantly given how touchy it is; but there was no escaping and hiding from the truth. You were leaving; Jungkook was staying here.

He tenses up in his seat, pursing his lips as he glances over at you, “That’s another reason Junghyun called me last night,” he begins. You look at him confused, asking what he means, “I’ve been thinking about telling you about my feelings for so long Y/N, and I clearly have shit timing,” he laughs ironically, “But Junghyun has known for awhile now—I think before I even knew it but um,” he pauses, “He made me promise to him that by the end of this trip that I would tell you, so he was on my ass about it last night.”

You smile at him sweetly, resting your hand over his, “Well now you can tell him you kept that promise,” you offer.

His gaze doesn’t quite meet yours, “Yeah, but that’s not all,” he pauses as you listen to him, “I’ve been applying to jobs in New York,” he admits.

Your lips part as your eyes widen, “What?” You’re nearly breathless as you ask the question—feeling like Jungkook took a baseball bat to your chest. “Why would you do that?” You press.

He swallows heavily, “I just, I knew whenever you said you were going there that I just couldn’t not try with you,” he pauses, his gaze looking almost apologetic, “I didn’t want to be four thousand miles away from you so I panicked and started applying for jobs there,” he explains, “I don’t want you to be mad, and I’ve already talked to my family about it and they’re all okay with it,” he says in a rush, “I just didn’t want you to be alone there, whether I confessed my feelings to you or not.”

He’s chewing on his lip and you can tell he’s nervous. You turn over his palm so you can intertwine your fingers together, giving him a soft gaze.

“While this has completely caught me off guard,” you say honestly, “I would never be mad at you over this,” you squeeze his hand for reassurance, “Did you really apply to jobs there because of me?”

He nods a few times before he hangs his head low. You take your other hand and push his shorter fringe away from his face. While you’re positive many more details have to be worked out, that fact Jungkook made this decision makes you feel an amount of butterflies and love you’ve never experienced before.

“And you’d for sure want to be in New York?”

He looks up at you with those big doe-eyes that haven’t changed from the day you met him, “I’d go wherever you were Y/N. It could be the worst fucking place in world and I’d go there with you.”

You lean over, pressing your lips to his gently.

“I love you.”

He smiles in return, “I love you more.”

You pout some, “That’s not fair—no one is allowed to ‘love more’.”

He kisses you again gently as he pulls you from the bar stool to stand between his legs. His hands squeeze your ass playfully as you try to pull away.

“Well I can be the exception,” he leans into you, his arms wrapping around you protectively. You roll your eyes, a short laugh escaping your lips.

“You know what this means?” You ask inquisitively.

“What?”

“Lots of sex to be had,” you emphasis, “And even more of blowjobs.”

His eyes widen, his jaw slightly clenching and you swear he whines as he looks up at you, pressing your front to his crotch, “Can we start that sooner than later?”

You give him your answer through another kiss and moving your hands at the waistband of his pants. God, you think as you take in the already domesticated environment you two have made together, you could really get used to this. Jeon Jungkook was your best friend and at the end of the day—all you two needed was each other and somewhere to go.

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drunk-on-dk · 2 years

Text

I Just Think You're Cool | Pt 1 - Lee Seokmin (m)

✦pairing: college athlete!seokmin x afab reader

✦genre: fluff, some smut (minor DNI)

✦warnings: Best friend Mingyu, teasing, drinking, y/n has a bit of a stalker at one point, SMUT, fingering, cunnilingus lmao, i gotta think of any other warnings, MINORS DNI

✦wc: ~6.2k

✦summary: Seokmin knew you were off limits, you were Mingyu's best friend, and he had been quite protective over you. However, your sudden reoccurring appearances make it harder for Seokmin to not fall for you even more.

✦ AN: I hope you all enjoy it! This is not super proofread towards the end, so I apologize for any errors. A little all over the place, but I had fun writing it. Got a bit carried away with the lead-up, thinking of maybe a pt 2 with some more smut. Otherwise, Cinema by Harry Styles was on repeat during this. ENJOY!

part one | part two

Seokmin was surprised to see you so bright and early at 6 AM in the morning, watching you from where he was warming up on the field as you fumbled with a camera bag and tripod near the bleachers. Mingyu was next to you, helping you set up and keeping you from falling when your foot got tangled in the strap of your camera bag. Seokmin had to hold back a chuckle as he witnessed you almost topple over from afar. He watched as you regained your balance, Mingyu and you laughing at your clumsiness, a graceful smile was drawn over your features in contrast to your near fall.

Seokmin had to pull his gaze away, hating the ping of jealousy that he felt as he watched Mingyu pinch your cheek before he jogged back towards the team on the field. Coming to a halt alongside Seokmin, Mingyu gave you a thumbs up, which you returned, but also waved at Seokmin upon noticing that he had been looking your way, a blush shading your cheeks realizing he probably saw you trip. Seokmin waved back, still unsure as to why you were here at their practice, and Mingyu seemed to notice this as he continued to stare in your direction, seemingly confused.

“I thought I let everyone know on the team, but Y/N is helping out with our social media,” Mingyu explained, grabbing a soccer ball nearby to begin running some drills with Seokmin. “You know, like posting about our games, making promotional videos, all that fun stuff. You may not know it, but Y/N is good with stuff like that.”

Seokmin nodded, passing the ball back and forth between Mingyu and him. “So that means she’ll be at all our practices?”

“Probably as many as she can make it to, and most likely as many games as she can attend as well.” Seokmin couldn’t deny the giddiness he felt, realizing he’ll be seeing you around more often, losing his attention as the ball that Mingyu kicked his way flew right past him. “Hey, pay attention to the ball.”

Mingyu was Seokmin’s kind, best friend who he had met his first year on the university’s soccer team. You were Mingyu’s even kinder, best friend that Seokmin was absolutely infatuated by, but could never admit it to anyone, fearing that Mingyu may beat his ass. Seokmin had seen you around often of course, due to you being Mingyu’s other constant in life other than his soccer team. However, your interactions were scattered, only briefly catching up with Seokmin at parties the soccer team threw, the occasional pregame or hangouts that Mingyu held at his place, and the couple of times you passed each other on campus, always greeting him with a shy wave and smile. That was it though, as Mingyu wasn’t your only friend, and you had become MIA over the years due to you going out with other friends from your own extracurriculars.

Seokmin remembered the first time he met you freshman year at one of the first parties the soccer team had thrown. His friendship had just begun with Mingyu, and the two were already attached at the hip. To no surprise, Mingyu had invited you to the party, as you two had quickly become close friends upon meeting each other on your first day of lectures, only to find out you both live in the same dorm building. Seokmin watched you walk into the party with Mingyu, to which Mingyu introduced you to all his teammates. Seokmin thought it may have been love at first sight, you were attractive and incredibly charming, so he quickly brushed it off as a freshman crush.

Of course, Seokmin wasn’t the only one interested in you, there were other teammates who tried to make advances on you. This would prove to piss Mingyu off by the end of the party, pushing an older teammate, Jeonghan, away from you when he tried to make a move on you. You had eased the situation, guiding the heated Mingyu away from the perplexed Jeonghan, making sure to direct a bright smile and blow a kiss towards the older boy. Jeonghan of course teased Mingyu for the rest of the year up until he graduated

Ever since then, Seokmin has treaded very lightly around you, still unsure three years later if Mingyu was being a protective friend, or if the boy has a crush on you just like all his friends. Unfortunately, Seokmin’s crush never went away, you only became more and more attractive over the years, not only did you tend to get prettier each time he saw you, but as he learned more about you as well. However, he’d never risk his friendship with Mingyu, especially since they were on the same team. Still, Seokmin was sure to follow you on social media, giddy when you followed him back, and tried to speak to you whenever he came across you in person.

On the other hand, you still couldn’t believe you agreed to helping Mingyu and the soccer team out with social medias. Sitting down behind the camera you let out a huff, feeling slightly uncomfortable as the morning dew that had settled on the metal bleachers was now soaking into your leggings. You enjoyed editing pictures, videos, and were savvy with social media, so you had blindly agreed when Mingyu asked you to help manage social media for the team, not being aware of how much of a time commitment it may be. This wasn’t necessarily related to your major at all, but hey, it wouldn’t hurt to be affiliated with your university’s official soccer team, the management skills potentially being beneficial for your resume. Also, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed watching attractive men play soccer all day, for your own selfish reasons.

An hour later, practice had come to an end, but Mingyu had to stay an extra half hour due to a screw-up he had made during a scrimmage game that cost him extra practice time. Mingyu had called out to you from the field before Soonyoung, the team captain, began pushing him to start running laps. “Catch a ride with Seokmin, he’s the only fool that I trust to get you home safely, don’t wait around for me.” Upon hearing that, Seokmin points to himself dumbly, looking up from where he was packing his cleats into his bags and over to Mingyu, who paid him no attention.

You laugh at the confused boy, haphazardly carrying your camera bag and tripod towards him, “you don’t have to take me home, DK, I can wait around for Mingyu. I really don’t mind.” Seokmin could have sworn the wind was knocked out of him upon hearing you use his nickname so casually in a sentence. He came to his senses, closing his jaw that was slacked open, realizing why you may think he doesn’t want to take you home per his shocked expression.

Scrambling to pick up his duffle bag, Seokmin takes the tripod from you to carry as well, and quickly tried to play off his odd behavior. “Y/N, don’t worry, I can take you home,” Seokmin laughs, “Sorry, I was just shocked that Mingyu wasn’t being protective of you for once, and that he said he trusts me out of all people.”

You laugh at his statement, following him towards his car in the lot near the field, and decide to tease him a bit. “Good point, Mingyu tends to be overprotective. Can I trust you though, hmm?”

Seokmin smiles at you as he piles your stuff and his into the backseat of his car, you both climbing into the front seats once everything is all set. You always have noted how dazzling Seokmin’s smiles are, it’s the kind of smile that extends up into his eyes, and always makes you want to smile in return.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” he says as he revs up the engine, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the lot. “I’m hungry, and you don’t want to see what I can do when I get too hungry. Otherwise, I’m pretty trustworthy, won’t cause any harm, I promise.”

“Hmm,” you seem to hum in consideration, “how about I get you breakfast this morning in return for driving me back?”

Seokmin’s heart almost pounds out of his chest, as he refrains from snapping his head in your direction to see if you’re messing with him. Of course, this was just an innocent suggestion on your end, but the thought of any chance to spend more time alone with you sends his mind and heart into overdrive, danger mode.

Before he even has a chance to respond, you’re jumping in your seat and pointing towards the popular twenty-four-seven diner on your campus. “Here! Pull over here! Let’s get breakfast at the diner.” Due to the enthusiasm in your voice, he’s whipping into the first parking space he can find at the diner, shocked by how you grab his hand once he locks his car, pulling him into the diner and to the nearest empty booth.

Breakfast with you is comfortable, even with the subtle pounding of Seokmin’s heart. You are incredibly entertaining to him, constantly coming up with new topics of conversation, and never failing to make him laugh. He takes pride in making you laugh as well, especially when you almost spit out your coffee when he fails to perform a pseudo magic trick using his napkin and utensils. Seokmin uses this as a chance to get to know you better, but so do you, taking the time to ask him questions about himself. He swears he’s only digging himself deeper, further realizing how kind and funny you are, loving the twinkle in your eye as you talk about the things you enjoy doing, sharing tid-bits about your hobbies, such as editing pictures and videos, and your friendships outside of Mingyu.

He knows he's in really deep when the waitress spills a full cup of water on the table, the puddle leaking onto your lap. She’s quick to apologize, claiming it’s been an off day, but you graciously assure her that it is alright, that it’s just water, with the kindest eyes he’s ever seen. You’re even sure to leave her a tip above average, mentioning that you hope it helps brighten her day and that you’ve been there before. Seokmin had only inquired, in hopes that he can help chip into the cost of the breakfast, but you stubbornly snatched the check away from him, tucking in enough cash for the food and a hefty tip.

The car ride back was comfortable as well, but Seokmin’s heartbeat had only picked up even more, not wanting his time with you to come to end just yet. You were in the passenger seat, singing along quietly with the music that played on the radio, and he thought he could get used to having you around, even if that meant he had to suppress his itching desire to make you his.

Much to his dismay, he pulled into your apartment's front entrance, but you seemed to be bummed a bit as well. You huffed, holding your palm out to him, “hand me your phone.” Seokmin stumbles to pull his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it, tossing it into your hand like a hot potato. You don’t seem to notice how nervous he is, watching as you type your number into his phonebook, and giving yourself a quick call. You hold your phone up to show him that you have his number as well before ending the call.

“Let’s be friends, DK, I had fun today. Text me if you ever want to hang out,” you say whilst handing his phone back, and he holds it almost as if he’s been handed a relic. You’re quick to hop out of his car, snapping him back to reality. Seokmin watches as you grab your stuff from the backseat before heading up to the front door, shooting another smile his way and you bid him goodbye with a wave, disappearing into your apartment complex.

This is how Seokmin ends up texting you for the next couple of weeks, leading to your friendship blooming, and despite trying his hardest to not fall more for you, his heart was growing fonder of you day by day, text by text. He sees you around more often now due to your frequent attendance at games, practices, and any team event you are invited to. However, he still hasn’t had the guts to ask you to hang out one on one. Of course, Mingyu is still your best friend, so he can’t help but feel as if he’s betraying some sort of bro-code, even though he’s only set his intentions on becoming a good friend of yours for now.

Mingyu starts to pick up on your newfound friendship with Seokmin too, noticing how instead of being by his side as per usual at the pregame, you’re actually in the corner of the kitchen giggling at a joke that Seokmin says. It must be obvious that something has shifted since Seungkwan from the team had the audacity to walk up to Mingyu and tell him that you may have found a better friend on the team. Mingyu lets his comment slide, pushing the younger boy away, but he’s sure to note the way that you lean into Seokmin as you both continue talking. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, but he sure doesn’t like that his two best friends are bonding without having him in the loop.

When you’re all out at the bar later, Mingyu pulls Seokmin aside to ask about the clear difference in your friendship. You had disappeared into the crowd a while ago, noticing a group of people you had recognized, and you had ended up taking shots and moving to the dance floor with them.

“What’s going on with you and Y/N?” Mingyu asks his friend, looking down at the half-drank beer in his hands. “Just curious, since you two seem to be closer now.”

Seokmin is quick to pick up on Mingyu’s mannerisms, as he doesn’t seem too hostile, but there is still that protective tone in Mingyu’s voice. “Just became friends I guess; we’re pretty alike you know.”

Mingyu laughs, Seokmin was right, you two were almost the same person, and he couldn’t believe he basically had two clone best friends. “True,” Mingyu hums, seeming to trail off, unsure of what to say next. He’s not sure why he’s acting this way, or why the question leaves his mouth. “Do you like her?”

“Do you like her?” Seokmin asks back, unsure how to respond, and hoping his wide eyes don’t give him away. There’s an awkward pause as Mingyu chokes on the beer he had just sipped on.

“No way,” Mingyu almost stutters out, but Seokmin gives him a knowing look. “Ok, I liked her sophomore year, but she completely, flat out rejected me. Nothing really changed otherwise though, stayed best friends of course. That’s over now, but that may be why I’m so protective. That’s also why I’m asking, do you like her?”

Seokmin isn’t sure if this is a test from his friend, unable to read the look in Mingyu’s eyes. Thankfully, you and a friend of yours pop up out of nowhere, and you’re too excited to notice the tense air between him and Mingyu. Quick to wrap an arm around Mingyu’s waist, you take his free arm and place it over your shoulder.

“There you guys are,” you slur, you’re much drunker than before, and you’re leaning most of your weight into Mingyu, your other friend quick to grab the drink you almost spill out of your hand. “We were looking everywhere for you.”

“Hey, Maya,” Mingyu greets the girl who is next to you. Maya, per Seokmin’s observations, seems to blush as Mingyu smiles at her, and he knows the feeling all too well.

“OH MY GOD,” you screech, scaring your friends slightly and making Seokmin jump, “Seokmin, you have to meet my roommate, this is Maya. Maya, this is Seokmin, one of the nicest guys ever.” You break loose from your grip on Mingyu, stumbling over to the hesitant Seokmin who catches you, wrapping your arm around him in a similar matter. Seokmin avoids making eye contact with Mingyu at all costs, feeling how he eyes you two up and down.

“Nice to meet you, Maya,” Seokmin greets your roommate, charming as ever of course. She gives him an all-too-knowing look, before looking back at you and engaging in some unspoken conversation between you two. Mingyu can’t help but notice how you smile endearingly up at Seokmin, understanding your body language and comparing it with how you act around him. He can tell you're into Seokmin like crazy.

“Nice to meet you too, Seokmin. Unfortunately, we do have to head out, which is why we had been so desperately looking for you guys so that Y/N could say goodbye,” she laughs, trying to pry you away as your hold tightens on Seokmin. She’s successful in pulling you away from the man, even though Seokmin is just as reluctant as you are to let go, but he helps Maya out anyways. “As you can see, Y/N here is a little too tipsy. Nice to see you gents, and hope you have a good night.”

Maya and you bid the boys goodbye, of course not without pressing a quick peck to both of their cheeks before she can drag you out of the bar. Maya is quick to apologize on your end, saying goodbye again and pushing you out the door towards the uber.

Mingyu notices the bright hue on Seokmin’s cheek as you exit, and before Mingyu can point it out, Seokmin ultimately confesses his feelings to his friend, “Fuck, I like her a lot. I’m way too into her for my own good. I’m so sorry, Gyu.”

Mingyu can’t suppress the bit of jealousy within him, but he knows you two are never meant to be anything more than just friends. With a huff, downing the rest of his beer, he grabs Seokmin’s shoulder, “break her heart, and I will kill you.”

The next day, upon what can be considered Mingyu’s blessing, Seokmin finally works up the nerve to ask you to hang out. He sends you a simple text, asking if you’d like to get some coffee, assuming that you may be a bit hungover this afternoon.

You respond back quickly, but unfortunately not in his favor. You let him know you’re already out with Mingyu for the day. Seokmin internally curses Mingyu, of course, you had to be out with him. Seokmin is quick to send a response back, asking if you may be available to hang out tonight, as his only plans were to go to the field late at night to run some practice drills alone. It was a Saturday, but with there being a game tomorrow, he had no intentions to go out.

You never do respond though, not until later, apologizing that Mingyu had distracted you from your phone and that you already had plans to go to the bar again tonight, serving as redemption after your night before. Later when you had posted a picture that night on your story with Maya, he couldn’t help but notice how good you looked, cursing that he couldn’t just give in and go to the bar himself.

Ultimately, that leads to Seokmin spending his night on the field, running practice drills, and repeatedly kicking the soccer ball into the net to let out some steam. He had done this for a couple of hours, working up a sweat, and finally, when it reached 11 pm, he made his way back over to his duffle bag. As if perfect timing, he noticed he was getting a call, not just from anyone, but from you.

Fumbling to pick up his phone, he quickly answers, “Y/N?”

“Seokmin,” you mutter out quietly, “I’m so glad you answered, Mingyu wasn’t picking up at all. Can you please stay on the phone with me, I left the bar since I needed some air, but I think this guy is following me.”

“Of course, where are you at?” Seokmin is stern, not with you, but immediately felt tense considering you have someone following you.

“Umm, I’m right on Caldwell Lane, walking down towards Market Street,” your breathing is shaky, and he wishes he could be right by your side. “Where are you at, Seokmin? I’m far from my apartment, and I don’t want to stop here for an uber.”

Just then, Seokmin has a realization. Thank goodness he’s been practicing for so long, he realizes that once you get to Market Street, if you walk a block or so more, you will be at the soccer fields. “Y/N, just keep walking to Market, take a right once you get there, and you’ll be at the soccer fields. I’m here right now.”

He swears he can hear you whimper, “OK, I’m almost there, I’m going to pick up my pace a bit.” He can hear the clicking of your heels in the speaker as the urgency of your steps pick up. Seokmin can’t help but run down the street, hoping he can see your figure appear and at least have eyes on you. Once you do, he lets out a breath of relief, seeing that you’re safe and alone. However, much to his dismay, a guy is trailing you, making a turn at the corner and continuing to follow you.

“I see you, Y/N,” Seokmin says, increasingly getting more and more angry as the man continues to follow you. “You’re almost here, I’m gonna hang up now and call out for you.”

You seem to protest, but Seokmin hangs up, jogging towards you with arms wide open. “There you are, I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it out tonight with you.” You’re quick to fall into his arms, Seokmin staring at the man behind you with blazing eyes to let him know he’s been caught, to which the guy turns off conveniently into another local pub.

You’re near tears in his arms, grasping onto Seokmin for dear life as he runs a hand over the back of your head in comfort. “Thank you, Min, I’m so glad you picked up the phone.”

His heart flutters at the new nickname, “of course, Y/N. Please call me whenever, seriously.” He leans back, keeping you in his hold as he grabs your face in between his two hands, brushing a tear away with his thumb. He can’t help but notice how pretty you are, even when your nose has turned slightly red from all your sniffling. “My stuff is back on the field; I can go grab it and take you home.”

“No, no, no,” you mutter, mustering up a small smile. “I don’t want to intrude on your practice time.”

He scoffs, “Y/N, it’s 11 pm, I was getting ready to go home anyways,” Seokmin begins to lead you back to the field, and you follow, holding his hand tightly in yours, feeling safer that way. The field picks up all the noise pollution from the bars, booming music echoing throughout as you stand near Seokmin, reminding you that it truly is 11 pm. You pout when you notice he does pack up, pathetically playing with the soccer ball in your heeled booties as you wait for him.

“What if I don’t want to go home yet, Seokmin,” you ask, still kicking around the ball. Seokmin takes the time to look at you from where he is crouched over, packing his things up. You really do look good tonight, honestly extremely sexy in his opinion. He couldn’t believe the sight before him; you kicking around a soccer ball in your knee-high boots, black mini skirt, a trendy long-sleeved blouse, and your curled hair a bit tousled from the wind. He tried not to stare at you for too long, quickly standing up from his stuff, and snatching the ball from you with his own feet.

“Well, what do you want to do,” Seokmin asks gently, trying not to let his voice waver as you seem to chuckle at his playful nature of taking the ball from you.

“I want to do something fun,” you joke, getting a bit closer to him and pushing him to try to receive the ball back. Truthfully, you don't want to go home, you want to spend as much time with him as possible. “Play a bit of soccer with me.”

Seokmin can’t deny you anything, especially not when he hears your melodious laughter ring through the air as he starts to play along with your request. Your mood has flipped from before, now giggling as you somehow get the ball back from Seokmin, booking it down the field to attempt a shot at the net. However, Seokmin is too fast and skilled for you, albeit you’re in blocky heels, swiftly kicking the ball out from under you, but ultimately almost causing you to fall over.

Seokmin is quick to catch you, noticing how you lose your footing and trip over yourself. He pulls you in close like before, however, this time his body burns against you with a new heat in comparison. You’re breathless, you’re not sure if it’s from the running or the way Seokmin looks into your eyes, darkness in them that you haven’t seen before. He seems to be breathless too, but you see the way his demeanor changes before quickly letting you go.

You miss the heat of his body, not wanting him to let you go, and deciding to risk it, you pull him back into you. He is silent when you do so, so you panic, trying to sway along with the music echoing on the field. “No, please hold me, Min. I mean, do you hear that music? Dance with me or something.”

Seokmin can’t tell if you’re still drunk, he can still smell the trace of alcohol on your breath, but you aren’t acting too out of sorts. He almost shivers when he feels your hands travel from his arms, up to his shoulders, and all the way into the hair on the back of his neck. This results in his grip on your waist tightening to pull you closer to him as you sway along to the distant beat. He can’t tell if you know exactly what you’re doing to him, letting out a sigh as you gently tug on his hair. You were acting quite odd, still, he couldn't bring himself to pull away from you.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” Seokmin almost pouts, an incredulous laugh escaping his lips as your close dancing starts to turn into sillier dance moves. You couldn’t believe that you had come onto Seokmin like that, trying to play off the situation by spinning in his arms, blaming the alcohol for making you act up again.

“I don’t know, having fun, Seokmin,” you giggle as he spins and dips you, playing along with you a little bit more now. The two of you must look so funny to any passersby, both of you dancing on the field, as you’re dressed up in going out clothes and he’s in his practice gear. He still looked extremely attractive to you though, the sporty look and messy hair sending your mind into overdrive.

“Seriously, what’s up with you?” He continues to laugh but finally pulls away, holding you steady for once.

You suck in a breath, staring into his eyes again, trying to pick up on any cues on how he may feel about you because you are surer than ever that you want him and want him bad. You had developed feelings for him as well, and it was beginning to drive you crazy. You quickly spit out, “I just think you’re cool; I like being around you. Do you think I’m cool too?”

Seokmin has to stifle back a laugh, “I think you’re cool too, Y/N.”

You shake your head, finally deciding to let it all out, “no, Seokmin, like I’m way too into you. I don’t even know why I said that.”

Seokmin stares at you incredulously, and all he can think to do is to lean down and gently pull you into a kiss. However, upon kissing you, you let out a moan, and for once he feels something snap within him, making him act out differently from his usual gentle style. He grabs the soccer ball from the ground near your feet, hoisting you up onto his shoulder, being sure to cover you from your mini skirt rising, and he leads you over to the building next to the field.

Dropping you down gently onto the ground, Seokmin tosses the soccer ball into the metal-wired basket where the rest are all piled up, and he pushes you up against one of the many lockers. You soon realize this is the locker room, noticing Kim Mingyu’s name engraved on the locker across from the one you’re pressed against. Your skin feels hot, noticing how Seokmin’s demeanor really has changed, his eyes back to the darkness that they were before.

“Stop with all that cute shit and playing games, Y/N,” Seokmin grabs your jaw with one hand, the other hand holding your hip against the locker behind you. “Fuck, I’m into you too, didn’t you ever notice that? Did you ever notice you have most of the soccer team running laps for you?”

You gasp when his lips connect with your neck, messily trailing up to your jawline where he holds you tightly. “I-I never n-noticed,” you breathe out, feeling breathless at his touch, grabbing onto his arms as you tried to ground yourself. You feel how they flex under your touch, this side of Seokmin being something you never noticed until now, truthfully. “I l-like the way you t-talk with me, h-how playful you are, and how,” Seokmin harshly sucks on your neck, nibbling gently, “fuck, h-how you make me feel.”

With new fervor, you gain some dominance, ripping his hand away from your face and pulling him into a rough kiss. Your heart flutters at the feeling, the kiss messy as your noses bump into one another, and his one hand slams into the locker making a loud noise. You jump slightly, but Seokmin keeps his mouth on yours, still battling for dominance against you.

Seokmin only pulls away from the kisses to whisper praises to you, “I can make you feel so good, darling. You’re so good for me, you deserve it,” he says, making you rut your hips up into him. Seokmin has ignited something in you, something you hadn’t felt in a while, and you were becoming more desperate as each second passed. “You look so beautiful, so gorgeous with my name engraved behind you, sounding so sexy moaning my name out.”

You gasp, moaning out when his hand travels down to your chest, palming roughly at your covered breasts. You realize you must be pressed against his locker, a way for him to stake his claim on you, and you continue to breathe out his name like a mantra as his hand travels farther down your body and closer to your core. By the time his hand makes it to your heat, you’ve wrapped a leg around him, his other hand helping hold it up for you.

His deft fingers run over your clothed folds, and you buck into his hand, feeling needy for his touch. “So sensitive for me, darling,” he groans out when his fingers move past your damp panties, slipping two of them into your seeping cunt. “So fucking wet for me too, is this really all for me?”

He looks at you so innocently, but his long fingers start moving in and out of you expertly, curling and hitting your g-spot. You’re gasping for air, hands pulling at his hair as he bites at your bottom lip, “all for you, Min, only you make me this wet.”

“Such a sweet girl,” Seokmin moans out, crashing his lips against yours as he relentlessly fingers you, and you can feel your own juices begin to drip down your thighs as he continues his ministrations. You let a loud moan slip past your lips as he begins to rub fast circles into your clit, your high approaching you quickly as Seokmin catches your moans with a kiss. He has your hips pushed against his locker, not allowing you to chase his fingers, but he’s able to get you to reach your release just by fingering you.

You feel the coil inside you snap, and you almost scream out in relief from the orgasm, but Seokmin is quick to capture the sound with a kiss, knowing you can’t be too loud. Seokmin almost loses his mind at the way your walls clamp around his fingers, wishing that he could feel you squeeze around his cock instead. However, tonight is not the night for that, knowing you’re a bit tipsy, and wanting to wait until he can really take his time with you. Regardless, he knows he is not done with you for the night. Not after the way you whine out when he removes his fingers from your core, pulling them to his mouth to taste you for the first time.

“Of course, you taste so fucking sweet, too,” Seokmin can’t help but sink to his knees, pulling the leg that was wrapped around his waist, and placing it over his shoulder instead.

“P-Please,” you beg, “I n-need more, please.” You’re gripping at his hair, as his hand roughly shoves your panties out of the way again, wasting no time diving into your heat with his mouth this time.

“No need to beg, darling,” Seokmin laps at your cunt, looking up at you from between your legs, and you swear you almost collapse at how innocent yet sexy he looks. “Taste so fucking good, let me take care of you.”

You’re grinding against his face as his tongue fucks into you, his nose deliciously providing pressure against your clit as you chase your high once again. “Just like that, ride my face,” he encourages you, only working his tongue even more messily into you, adding his fingers to the mix.

The rubber band inside you is quick to snap again, as Seokmin’s tongue and fingers work you through your second orgasm. You’re a writhing mess, your legs shaking as he tries to still the one hooked over his shoulder.

Once he comes back up for air, he’s pulling you into a heated kiss. The taste of you on his lips still makes you want more, even though you’ve become sensitive from the overstimulation. You try to trail your hand down to where he is obviously hard, all from getting you off, but he stops you before you can reach him.

“No, no, darling,” he says gently, pulling away from the kiss. “Just wanted to focus on you tonight. Let’s save this for later.”

You almost pitch a fit, but your cut off when you hear your phone vibrating in the distance from where you hand dropped it on the bench earlier. Quick to scramble away, you grabbed your phone to realize it’s Mingyu returning your calls. You quickly eye Seokmin, unsure if you should answer, feeling a bit frazzled by what had just happened.

As if he knows your almost asking for permission, he nods, smirking slightly as you pick up the call from your close friend.

“Oh, hey, Mingyu,” you say, and there is still a breathlessness to your voice that only Seokmin knows the reasoning behind. “Oh no, everything is okay. I’m fine now, don’t worry.”

Seokmin can hear Mingyu’s concerned voice on the other line, unable to make out exactly what he is saying, but he’s sure that the other man is making sure you’re safe. “Yeah, I’m safe now, Gyu. Seriously, I am perfectly okay.”

You breathe out once again, making eye contact with Seokmin, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach, reminding you of your orgasm ebbing away from your core. He looks so perfect as he stares at you with such love, you almost melt, forgetting you’re on a call with Mingyu. “I promise you, Gyu. Everything is perfectly fine. I'll see you at the game tomorrow.”

Seokmin pulls you into his arms after you assure Mingyu once again that you were safe and hang up. He's sure to scatter kisses all over your face, pulling you into a tight hug. You can’t hide the smile that covers your features, hiding your blush behind your hands as you try to cover your face. “I mean it, Seokmin, I’m really into you.”

Seokmin knows that Mingyu would kill him if he knew what had taken place right before that phone call, but he was sure he’d never let Mingyu down in the sense that he’d never break your heart. “I’m really into you, too, darling.”

#svthub #seventeen smut #svt smut #seokmin smut #dk smut #college seventeen #dokyeom smut

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jisungsdaydreamer · 11 months

Text

Love Playlist #2: UGH! (Bang Chan)

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME»

"Shut the fuck up."

Pairing: Bang Chan x fem!reader Genre: college au, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, forced proximity Warnings: swearing, mc has autism, misogynistic behavior (not Bang Chan), implications of ableism, bullying, short panic attack description Word Count: 11k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

It’s a truth universally acknowledged that you hate Christopher Bang’s guts. Everything about him, you hate. The utter laziness that he masks as nonchalance? The “happy-go-lucky” attitude that borders on bullheaded recklessness? The way every single time you text him about something important, he never replies? You hate it all. He’s irresponsible, aimless, completely unreliable, and you hate him.

Chris believes that the whole world revolves around him, and unfortunately, he would be correct. With dimples that rival Harry Styles’s and saccharinity biologically embedded in him, his good looks and charismatic personality blind everyone to the truth. Everyone except for you, of course.

Even if all of the supreme powers in the universe held you over an eternal chasm and forced you to find compromise, you still wouldn’t be able to stop hating him. And you hate heights— almost as much as him— so that’s saying something. Your hatred for him will never, ever waver. You hate Chris Bang, period. And you hate him even more now, as he stands next to you and accepts an honor that should solely be yours.

“Congratulations, Chris and Y/N!”

You keep clapping and plaster on a fake smile to save face, trying to ignore the rage bubbling inside of you. In your peripheral vision, you sense Christopher laughing and shooting finger guns towards people in the audience, like some kind of corrupt politician. In a way, he is one, because you should have won this election. But you didn’t.

“In all of our history, never has there been an exact voting tie between two candidates.” The sickeningly cheerful announcer bounds closer to where you are standing on the stage, gesturing towards you both. “Everyone, please give another round of applause for our new Student Co-Presidents!”

Hearing it officially made you feel nauseated. For the three years you’ve been a college student, you have worked tirelessly, day and night, so this moment could come to fruition. All of those days filled with nonsense— schmoozing to all of the seniors in the Undergraduate Student Council, attending the endless number of tedious mixers to make connections, standing in the rain trying to raise funds for the organization— were going to be worth it, because in the end, you had one goal: to be student body president.

But your dreams were dashed to the ground when he strolled in like a supermodel. While you were toiling since you were a freshman, Chris showed up at the final student council meeting at the end of last year, expressing his intentions to run for president in the following academic semester after the summer. Chris’s charm threw off the projectile of the election, compared to how although you carry yourself very well professionally, you still are very socially uncapable. Making engaging small talk about the weather or joking about frat parties on campus are unthinkable tasks for you, while that kind of conversation is exactly Chris’s forte.

You know that you’re lucky that you at least get part of the title, because while on paper you are more qualified than Chris, the game was never in your favor. And seeing it all happen by the cursed will of the one person you’ve despised more than anyone else, since you were a kid, makes it hurt more than anything.

“Great job, partner.”

You’re snapped out of your disturbed musings by the aforementioned person, who beams and stretches out his hand towards you. You’re wary of the gesture, but accept it anyway, making sure to squeeze his hand extra hard.

“Same to you, Christopher,” you retort, adding an unmistakable bite to your words.

The smile doesn’t fade off of his face as he coolly shakes his aching hand off from your death grip. “I go by Chris, you know that.”

You nearly snort, but refrain from it, because people are watching. You do not need any negative publicity right now, especially next to your co-counsel who seems to do no wrong. But that won’t stop you from being discreetly petty. “Okay, Christopher.”

You hate Chris, and he knows it. But his elated expression doesn’t budge as he merely moves away from you to spark conversation with the announcer, who looks at Chris with literal hearts in her eyes. One more thing you hate: no matter how much you try to rile him up like he does to you, he never gives you a reaction. That satisfaction solely belongs to him.

Rolling your eyes, you shove past him as gracefully as you can, eliciting a surprised grunt out of him. As Chris rubs his side behind you, you turn to the students coming closer to congratulate you, the smile on your face very much genuine now.

“He left me on read! AGAIN. Can you believe the audacity?”

The smoky, herbaceous scent of freshly brewed coffee and sugary fragrance of baking breakfast pastries does nothing to soothe your anger. Your unadulterated complaints ricochet off of the walls of Morningstar Coffee House, your go-to place when you need to feign study in order to hang out with your best friend, a devoted employee-in-training at the place.

Soobin groans, dumping out the latest batch of long macchiato into the sink. “I keep messing it up.”

“Are you even listening, Soobin?” You lean against the counter that he’s behind, wiping up the small drops of milk that escaped the carton in his hasty panic to master the art of being a barista.

“Yes, yes, I am, sorry. Please continue.” Soobin sets aside his blender and folds his hands on the granite, looking at you earnestly.

You pick at the chipped dark purple polish on your nails. “I can work with him. I can. Because I’m a professional. But he makes it so hard when I’m trying to communicate with him.”

Soobin shrugs. “Maybe he’s just not using his phone right now.”

With a frustrated sigh, you shake your head. If only everyone could be as sweet and guileless as Soobin. He always sees the best in people, and while you’re not a pessimist, it’s hard for you to find the good in Chris’s character.

“It’s not just the text thing, even though I really do need him to tell me if he’s finished the nominations for the ethics board. It’s like, he doesn’t give a crap about anything, especially when it comes from me.”

Soobin nods slowly, wrinkling his nose in thought. “I know he’s difficult. But just keep rising above. Getting upset hurts you, not him.”

As always, Soobin remains the voice of reason behind your storms, your eternal complement. When you need to cry your emotions out, he welcomes you with open arms. When he’s too shy to ask for the dessert menu at restaurants, you will signal for the waiter. When you make your displeasure apparent, he induces a degree of rationality into your vexed mind. That said, fundamentally, both of you are introverts. At the end of the day, you love nothing more than to curl up on the couch and watch knitting tutorials on Youtube with Soobin. Opposites or not, you fit each other like a glove.

“I love you, cucumber,” you say, affectionately poking fun at your best friend’s towering height.

Soobin’s cheeks turn light pink, and he swats your hands away. “You’re weird.”

You tip your head back and laugh, while Soobin grins and resumes his duties in trying to figure out how to work the cash register. You can feel the worries already lifting in your chest, because who cares about Chris, anyway? Certainly not you.

But as if you had spoken of the devil, you hear the jingle of the shopkeeper’s doorbell, followed by that familiar boisterous guffaw. The sound makes you whirl around, the tension soaring back into your shoulders. And there he is, sauntering into the café with his trusty entourage trailing.

Your narrowed eyes meet Chris’s, and he pauses in the middle of whatever obnoxious joke he must have been sharing. For a brief moment, a telepathic duel sparks between you both, a challenge to see which one of you will be the first to crack. You win, when he breaks eye contact to go and find a seat with his friends in the lounge area. But once more, it doesn’t feel that way, because while he’s resumed his own activities, you’re still thinking about him. So much for rising above. Damn it.

“Soobin, you need to scan your employee ID first or else sales won’t be attributed to you. We already went over this.”

The voice of Seungmin, the son of Morningstar’s owners and your fellow university student, halts your deliberations and thankfully pulls your thoughts away from Chris. Seungmin is inside from his break and stands there besides Soobin, scolding him for making another mistake in his practice transaction before the evening rush.

“Right! Sorry about that.” Soobin shakes his head and exhales, grabbing a towel to wipe his sweaty hands.

“You’ll be fine. Just keep at it.” Seungmin softens, patting Soobin on the back before making his way over to where Chris is sitting. Because of course, Chris is friends with every single person in existence.

Another person enters the building, prompting the telltale ring to go off. Soobin’s perpetual flush morphs into a crimson, and you immediately turn to see which newcomer has got your best friend so hot and bothered. You’re met by the sight of a very pretty girl who you recognize, but whose name escapes you. However, you know the boy she has walked into the coffee house with— her best friend, Han Jisung, who is unsurprisingly another member of Chris’s glorified posse.

“You have got to be kidding me.” You raise your eyebrow at Soobin, who is still watching the girl with a lovelorn look in his eyes.

“What?”

“You can’t like her. She and Jisung have a thing.”

“They’re just friends,” Soobin says, frowning, but you can see the contradicting doubt written across his face. “Maybe I’ll talk to Seungmin and see what’s up.”

You take his hand and resign, because other times, both of you have to learn your lessons on your own. “You’ll make someone’s heart beat as fast as they do your own. Whether it’s her or not.”

Soobin swallows, fully directing his attention back to you. “The same to you as well. ”

You let out a playful snort, thinking of your one short-lived romance from freshman year. You haven’t dated since, deciding to set relationships aside so you can focus better on your studies. You cannot take the chance of losing precious time, time that can only be allotted to your favorite person, work, and nothing else. Besides, you’ve never been very good at flirting— let alone finding friends— anyway.

“But I think Chris raises your pulse rate enough, so maybe you’ve got your plate full for now.”

“Don’t start,” you warn, the annoyance picking up again. Soobin sends you a cheeky smile, before he attends to his peckish customers.

You take the opportunity to make your way back to your table in the front of the cafe, your favorite little spot that overlooks the lush campus lawn, and then past the historic buildings of your university, the faint city skyline. The trees have begun happily shedding their leaves like multicolored tears that dot the outdoor expanse, embracing Autumn like a long-lost lover. Today is gorgeous, a day that should feel like a blessing, and yet, you feel blue.

The reason for your melancholy approaches your carefully curated bubble and pops it, sitting down at the table, uninvited.

“Hey, I didn’t see you at the election after-party the other day.”

Chris’s voice is calm, so you merely clench your jaw and keep from saying anything too unintelligible. “Hey, you read my text and didn’t reply today.”

He doesn’t let the sheepishness cross his features, but has the decency for it to manifest in a light red at the tips of his ears. “I was going to, sorry. I’ve been busy.”

You just can’t help the venom that laces your next words. “You always are.”

Chris shakes his head, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t get why you always have a problem with me.”

You allow yourself a sharp intake of breath before divulging your current frustrations with him. “I really, really need you to answer me when I ask you something. We represent all of the students in our college. We can’t afford to mess this up.”

Chris rolls his eyes at your words, which makes you even more irritated. “I know.”

“Great. Then we have nothing else to discuss.” You slip your laptop back into your carrier and zip up your backpack, grabbing your phone and pushing your chair in. You don’t spare Chris a glance as you walk towards the door.

“Why can’t we just be friends like before?”

You tense at Chris calling out, but don’t look back to face him. “You should know the answer to that.”

“I really don’t.”

With a scoff, you leave him hanging, pushing open the door and finding somewhere you can actually study without distraction.

It’s only the second day of fourth grade and you already feel so out of place. You moved here over a month and a half ago, in the middle of summer, so you had a lot of time to get used to the town and explore your new home. You enjoyed biking around the neighborhood cul-de-sac all day and discovered a clearing in the woods behind your house, immediately claiming it as your personal hideout. After your parents hosted some of your neighbors’ families for dinner, you even established friendly relations with Soobin, the impossibly shy son of the couple next door.

But your expeditions in school haven’t been as successful. As soon as you stepped into the classroom, it seemed like everyone already had their own friend groups, less than willing to take on a newbie like you. Because all of the seemingly “cool” kids have claimed all of the seats in the back, you sit up front, the desk next to you empty. And although Soobin also attends the same school, he’s in a different homeroom than you, so your in-school interactions are limited to hallway waves and nothing else. To top it all off, your teacher is already talking about long division. What in the world is that?

“Would you like a pudding?”

You turn around to pinpoint the hushed voice that has interrupted the independent classwork time that your teacher allotted. The owner sits right behind you, this kid with dimples and mischievous eyes. You can’t recall his name from when your teacher took attendance in the morning, but you remember him singing a little rhyme to his friends during lunch yesterday. It was cheesy.

The boy holds out a small cup of what looks like Jell-O snack pudding towards you. You accept it, slightly confused at the random gesture. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” He folds his hands on his desk, math practice discarded to the side. “You looked hungry.”

He’s watching you intently, waiting for you to eat the pudding. With a sigh, you open and try it, because you are kind of hungry. As soon as your lips gingerly close around the tiny spoon, you grin, because it’s chocolate— your favorite.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Chris,” he replies, obviously delighted by your reaction to the pudding. “Are you new?”

You smile, relieved to finally see a friendly face in your class. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for the pudding.”

“I don’t go anywhere without my trusty pudding cups.”

You don’t say anything, just quietly observing him while savoring the pudding. Chris is a little weird, and maybe too friendly. You're usually careful about this kind of socialization, but he doesn’t seem like a bad person. Chris takes your silence as an opportunity to keep chattering away.

“I notice you sit alone at lunch. You should eat with my friends and me today!” Chris exclaims, earning him a look from your teacher, but he doesn’t notice.

You pretend to contemplate his offer, although you’re secretly elated at the invitation. “Maybe if there’s more pudding.”

“Deal.”

“It looks like the faculty advising problem is sorted. Anything else?”

The Dean of the college closes his laptop and pushes the pair of glasses perched on his nose for the hundredth time in the past hour. The lenses are huge, magnifying his eyes and making them look bugged-out, adding a comical element to his otherwise stony face.

“I was thinking—” You start, taking out your notepad, but the Dean cuts you off, looking at Chris.

“Chris, did you have anything you wanted to say?”

Your cheeks as you avert your gaze shamefully, and all of the other students in the conference room awkwardly stare down at the table. The Dean doesn’t seem to notice your discomfort, however, just intently staring at Chris. For the entire board meeting, you actively participated and made your voice heard, while taking into account others’ concerns and viewpoints.

Meanwhile, Chris had done nothing but squint at the papers in front of him and pretend he knew what was happening. But you’ve always been underestimated just because you’re a woman, and the fact that you’re the only female student body president in the entire history of your university doesn’t help. Of course the Dean would value Chris’s thoughts more. Anyone would.

“Actually, Y/N was saying something. We should let her finish,” Chris replies firmly, shocking you. You thought Chris would just take the opportunity to shine for himself, not hand it to you.

The Dean looks taken aback as well, but he nods slowly. “Very well then.”

Everyone’s attention snaps to you, but you quickly recover and recollect yourself, turning on the professionalism you reserved for moments like this. “Yes. Thank you.”

You open your computer and quickly login, plugging it into the projector so everyone can view your screen. You had already pulled up your presentation and graphics, ready to present your idea.

“What is all of this, Miss Y/L/N?”

You take a deep breath. “A prevailing issue that has come to the board’s attention is the food insecurity on campus. To solve this issue, I propose the University Food Pantry, to relieve hunger through the acquisition and distribution of food to those students who most need it. We need to lead our campus community in the fight against hunger.”

The rest of your audience looks intrigued, but the Dean doesn’t seem convinced. “And how does this concern me? I oversee educational affairs at the college, not what’s cooking for dinner.”

“Our university is, above everything else, a community. The difficulty of higher education is further compounded when hunger is a constant presence.” You try your best to keep your suave composure, ignoring the smug condescension in the Dean’s voice. “As a result, the Food Pantry will envision a campus in which every student, regardless of their socioeconomic status, has sufficient access to nutritious food. No one should have to make financial and dietary decisions in pursuit of a good education.”

“It all sounds expensive. Where would you even get the money from?”

You know that the Dean expects you to be thrown off by his question, but you’re ready. You switch through the slides of your presentation, showcasing the several charts and graphs you stayed up all night drawing. “The Dean’s Assistance Fund, through which the Pantry can provide flex allowances to undergrad recipients of Financial Aid.”

The Dean leans back in his chair, brooding silently while you wait for his answer with bated breath. But Chris speaks up instead.

“This is really good, Y/N,” Chris says, astonishing you even further. “The fund could finance other initiatives in collaboration with the pantry as well, like the university Meal Share app that my friend Jisung coded. He’s in the computer science department.”

“Thanks,” you say warily, still in disbelief that you have both his support and enthusiasm. The other students murmur in agreement, but it doesn’t feel real, getting along with Chris.

Immediately, the Dean sits up, directing his gaze to match Chris’s. “A wonderful idea, Chris. We must talk further about this. Perhaps—”

It’s Chris’s turn to cut the Dean off. “It wasn’t my idea, it was Y/N’s, if you were listening to her at all, sir.”

The Dean looks embarrassed after being put into his place by the very student he was chatting up to, but you don’t give him time to say anything else, taking the chance to continue speaking.

“Of course, we can’t be fully financed by the Dean’s fund, so I think the university board should put forth a collective effort to apply for the Park Grant, an international system that funds programs that address student reform.”

“You’ve put so much thought into this, Y/N,” Mina, one of the board members, says with a smile.

You light up, forgetting the Dean’s less-than-enthused demeanor. “Thank you so much!”

The Dean sighs, staring up at the ceiling, but shrugs, inclining his head in reluctant approval. “The Park Grant deadline is in two days. You’ll have to write up the proposal and present it to the panel.”

You nod vigorously, already mentally adding it to your calendar. “Thank you sir, I know. I won’t disappoint you.”

The Dean points his pretentiously expensive fountain pen at Chris, directing your gaze to his. “But you’ll be presenting with Chris. You’ll oversee this endeavor together.”

Your soaring heart crashes, and you sit up in indignation, because of course there’s a catch. After undermining all of your efforts, the Dean would never trust you to do something like this on your own. And out of everyone, it has to be with Chris.

“Sir, I truly believe I can finish this on my own.” You can barely contain the anger quaking in your throat, but you give it one last attempt.

Chris glances at you and dips his head in accord. “I agree, sir. Y/N is perfectly capable. This is her project, after all.”

“Let’s not go near what our capabilities are. I am very well aware of what your abilities are.” The Dean’s words jab you in the chest one by one, making you wonder if he could go any lower. “You both are co-presidents. Do it together or don’t do it all.”

“Sir—”

“Please give me a chance—”

Both you and Chris are cut off by the Dean’s cold sneer. “That will be all.”

With the wave of his gnarled hands, the meeting is over, and the rest of the students exit as fast as they can to escape the tension, while you just sit there, staring at your black computer screen blankly. A moment later, you collect yourself, grab your belongings, cramming them into your arms, and run out of the room, trying not to cry all of your frustrations out, right then and there.

“Y/N, stop!” Chris calls out from behind you, and you groan inwardly. And of course he has to be there. You can’t even fall apart in peace.

“What do you want, Chris?” You sigh exasperatedly, turning to face him, even though all you really want to do is give him the finger and run back to your room.

The tension is palpable, and you see Chris’s concern. You don’t want it, though. You don’t want his concern, his sympathy, or his friendship. You just want to never see him again, but unfortunately, the universe will not let that happen. You should have accepted that when it put you through elementary, middle, and high school, and even college with him.

“I’m sorry. I- I tried,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft, blond locks flop back into place on his forehead. He looks more beautiful than ever, the sorrow in his deep brown eyes and painted into the pout on his perfect lips. But God, you hate him.

You swallow, taking a step forward. Chris’s eyes widen in surprise, but he stays still as you proceed in an eerily calm voice. “Outside of work, don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even think about me. I hate you, Chris, and I wish you never existed.”

For the first time, Chris is speechless, but you walk away, feeling anything but triumphant. You don’t want to see the hurt splayed across his face. And you don’t want Chris to see your own pain, the ugly root that digs deep into your heart and surges through your fingertips, the pain that has been there since the moment he took something from you. You hate Chris, and that will never, ever change.

“Come on, Soobin, tell me,” you whine, lightly kicking your legs at Soobin’s, where they hang over the edge of the treehouse you both built with your dads a few summers ago. The June weather is hot and sticky, and on days like this, you both like to climb up here and try to catch the faintest breeze that may come your way, ice creams in your hands and stories to trade on your lips.

Soobin coughs awkwardly. “Absolutely not, Y/N.”

Tomorrow is the last day of middle school, and you’re determined to guess Soobin’s crush. You smirk at him, elbowing him in the side. Today, you suck on a blueberry popsicle, deliberating while trying not to let the dessert drip down your arms.

“It’s the girl in your history class, isn’t it?”

“Nope.” Soobin side eyes you curiously, biting down on his own fudge ice cream cone. “Well, maybe I’ll tell you if you tell me yours.”

You blush, your mind immediately going to Chris, the boy you’ve liked since forever. Although you’re best friends with Soobin, Chris is also one of your good friends at school. And not to mention, the cutest boy in your entire school.

Besides Soobin, Chris is also the only other person you’ve told about your autism. You were always shy and awkward growing up, and Chris pulled you out of that shell.

It’s also why you get so nervous before tests. Since the time you nearly dropped your computer before a science quiz in fifth grade, Chris always brings you pudding before class assessments. You were scared to tell him at first, because you have been bullied in the past about it, but he had been nothing but kind and understanding. He’s never forgotten to bring you a pudding cup, and he specifically brings chocolate-flavored ones only, because you once told him you liked them.

“You can’t tell anyone,” you swallow the last chunk of your popsicle, crunching down on the sugary ice.

“I promise.” Soobin sits forward eagerly, his melting ice cream cone forgotten.

“It’s Chris,” you say dreamily, a lovesick smile playing upon your lips.

Soobin burst out laughing, elbowing you in the side teasingly. “I knew it!”

You and Soobin start arguing about who was more obvious about their respective crushes, but the thought of Chris stays lingering in your mind and clouding your thoughts. His devilishly handsome looks but angelic personality. The way he brings you those damn chocolate puddings, unaware of how you got sick of the flavor a long time ago but keep eating them anyway, just to see the beaming smile on his face.

“Tomorrow,” you exclaim randomly, right after Soobin finishes telling you about all of the teachers he will miss over the summer, the perfect student he is.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“I’m going to tell Chris that I like him. Tomorrow,” you declare, trying to keep your voice strong and purposeful.

Soobin just stares at you with his jaw hanging open, because while you aren’t as soft-spoken as him, neither of you are particularly forward. Especially not in regard to your romantic lives. You both are the duo that watches your lost loves from afar, not confronting them up close. You’re surprised at your uncharacteristic behavior too, because you pledged to never give a teenage boy the satisfaction of knowing the power they have over you, especially not someone popular like Chris. But then again, Chris is different. You know it.

“Are you actually serious right now?” Soobin asks, still in shock. “Like, are you joking?”

“I’m serious, Soobin. I really like him.” You toy with your stained popsicle stick. “If he doesn’t feel the same, then I can just move on.”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

He reaches over and gently pats you on the back, as if to comfort your nerves. “He’d be really dumb to not like you.”

You groan and flop onto your back, looking up at the dusty ceiling of the treehouse. Both of you just stay quiet for a moment, as you observe the soft cobwebs in the corners and the sunlight pouring through the cracks in the wooden rafters. You’re really going to do this.

“I’m still hungry.”

Soobin holds out his half-finished cone, little droplets of ice cream dripping onto the wood. “You can have the rest of this.”

“Thanks, Soob.” You accept his ice cream and both of you continue to reminisce about the school year and plan out everything you probably will never do during the summer, because both of you are master procrastinators.

But one thing you can’t put off is your revelation to Chris, and it’s going to happen. Which is why you find yourself trying to ignore the impending feeling of dread as you walk through the school hallways. Classes are over for both the day and the entire academic year itself, and there’s no better time to confess to your crush on the last day of school. That way, if something goes wrong, you can take the summer to recuperate and wallow in your humiliation.

You weave through the students excited to trade their homework assignments for sunny days at the beach, with only one thought in your mind. Chris, Chris, Chris. You saw him in math class in the morning, and he looked so cute in his new Hawaiian-print shorts while he signed your yearbook for you. Now, you try to find him in the crowd, before he leaves and you’ll be unable to see him for another three months.

As you search, you’re momentarily snapped out of your Chris-induced daze when you bump into Jessi Ho in the congested hall. Knowing your luck, of course you would crash into the loser who constantly picks on Soobin for being shy.

“Watch it, dumbass.” Jessi crosses her arms and flips her hair over her shoulder. Jay, her wannabe sidekick, gets up in your face, threateningly flashing the tattoos he got without his parents knowing. Although they look like a classic pair of bullies straight out of Mean Girls, you’re more irritated than intimidated right now.

“I don’t have time for this.” You try to move past the terrible twosome, but Jay grasps your forearm roughly and pulls you back. You wrench your arm free and look at him in both disgust and confusion. “What the hell?”

“I’ll get to the point.” Jessi smirks, bringing her finger up to her head and pointing to her temple. “We know you’re impaired. Up here.”

Your blood freezes over like a river of ice, when Jessie emphasizes that specific word. Even though you’re not impaired, because autism isn’t an intellectual disability, you know what she means. She says it like an insult, like you’re the most useless of garbage, not worth a human being’s basic dignity. Jay bursts out laughing when he sees the horror on your face, slapping his distressed denim thigh like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard in the fifteen miserable years of his life. You just stumble back, shock and panic rising like a tidal wave in your chest.

“W-what?”

Jessi cackles, clinging onto Jay like he’s her own walking cane. “How cute. She looks so lost.”

You shake your head, the tears building and your throat seizing in alarm. “How…?”

“A little birdie told me.” Jessi steps closer to you, and while every other time you are able to stand up to her, you can barely look her in the eye right now. “It all makes so much sense. Why do you barely talk to anyone but your pathetic bestie? You’re too scared. Why can you never sit still in class? You're just stupid.”

“That- that’s not how it works.”

You’re grasping at straws, at a loss for words. Any other time, you’d have a snappy comeback ready. You know you struggle with social interactions, but you never thought of yourself as someone disruptive, or weird. You’re one of the highest achievers in your entire school, because sometimes, books make more sense than people. But now? You do feel stupid, exactly like Jessi said. And not because you’re autistic, but because you weren’t careful enough. You’ve been underestimated your entire life because you’re a girl, but now, you know you’ll also be an autistic girl to everyone else. Not who you are. And that’s why you tried your best to keep it on the down low, not because you felt embarrassed, but because this was a part of yourself that was entitled to you. Not anyone else.

“Sure, okay.” Jessi looks bored already, her eyes unfocused roaming the hallway, looking for her next target. “Whatever, stupid.”

Jessi slinks off without a second glance, and Jay follows suit, but not before doing a disgustingly inaccurate impression of autists, speaking gibberish slowly and exaggeratedly. You actually speak faster than other people, because you always say whatever is on your mind. But you don’t give a crap about them right now. Bullies like them will always have the worst to talk about others, and you would rather die than have them be the cause of your tears, ever. What’s really bothering you is who told them about your autism, and how that mystery person found out.

Swallowing roughly, you run over to the bathrooms, forgetting anything else. The only thing on your mind is not losing it in front of everyone. You will not give any of these people the satisfaction. Trying to keep your breathing even, you’re about to enter the bathrooms and relieve your emotions when you hear someone say your name. It doesn’t sound deliberate however, like you weren’t supposed to hear it.

You turn slowly, searching through the swaths of people walking, when your gaze lands on a small group of people gathered at the end of the hallway, a few lockers away from where you’re standing. And his back facing you, but you immediately recognize the person speaking. After the previous year of sitting behind him in Geometry class, you would recognize his curly locks perpetually dyed a soft blond and preppy polo shirt anywhere. Your ears perk up in interest, and while you feel horrible, you know one of Chris’s dimpled smiles would immediately brighten your stormy day, as they always did.

“Tell us the truth Chris!” You hear someone screech like an eager toddler, and you stop in your tracks like a deer in a traffic jam. It can’t be.

“Fine, Y/N is autistic...”

Everyone around Chris bursts into uproarious laughter, and while you can’t see his expression, Chris begins saying something else that’s drowned out by all of the noise. It was Chris. He told everyone about your autism. Chris, the sweetheart who brings you pudding. Chris, the pretty boy who you have a hopeless crush on. Chris, your friend.

You stumble back and are pushed back into the after-school hallway rush, losing sight of Chris. But you already saw everything you needed to. It would have hurt less if it was anyone but Chris. But it wasn’t. You liked him. You trusted him. And he took that trust and stomped on it, shattering it forever. He took something from you.

Your heart hardens as you blink away your tears. You mindlessly make your way outside, just in time to catch your bus home. Looking out of the window, with your time and your spirit petrified, you resolve to never, ever make the same mistake again. You will never again put your faith in someone who does not deserve it.

“You look hungry.”

You momentarily glance away from your laptop screen to shoot Chris a withering look that could scare a bear. Things are back to normal since your emotional confrontation after the Dean’s meeting. Your rude remarks and his annoyingly cooperative advances are both back for good.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The blistering ice in your voice doesn’t stop Chris from unzipping his backpack and pulling out one of his damn puddings. With a scoff, you turn back to your spreadsheet, taking care to shoot disgusting looks at Chris periodically. Chris just takes his time savoring his pudding, innocently watching your reactions like you’re a goddamn television set.

The hours pass by quickly; you get a good amount of work done, while Chris tries to be helpful by asking useless questions and doing nothing else. Typical. After finishing up a final follow-up email to the Dean’s much more tolerable secretary, you stretch out your arms with a yawn. The library will be closing in a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” Chris’s voice is interrogative as you stand up, like you owe him an answer, which makes you see red. If anything, he is the one who should be giving you an explanation, perhaps why he has to be such a two-faced monstrosity who wants to pretend everything is fine and in the past.

Screw civility.

“Oh, I’m sorry, your royal dopiness. I didn’t know I needed your permission to go home.” Your words are filled with a sickening sarcasm, and fortunately, it’s enough to shut Chris up.

You grab your belongings and stalk out of the personal meeting room that you reserved, barely noticing that everyone else sitting at the previously crowded study spaces has already left. Once in the security of the library bathrooms, you exhale all of the tension you’ve held inside of you and splash cool water onto your heated face.

You stare into the mirror, seeing the same girl you’ve been trying to leave behind all of this time. You feel like that lost little girl trying to clutch the thought of someone who should be forgotten. You hate that you still have hope in you, that you’ve had it all of these years, that things can be fixed. You’ve tried, you really have. You’ve tried to leave the past behind you, to look forward and do exactly what needs to be done for your success. Here’s the truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because he sucks and you hate him. Here’s another truth: you act like a bitch towards Chris because… you’re hurt.

Especially because of your autism, you’ve had a more difficult run at making meaningful relationships. Your friendship with Chris meant that there was hope for you, and you truly believed that. But then he betrayed you, making you doubt yourself and your abilities. And following the incident, it felt like the world was working against you, and it still does. Maybe you could have healed with time, but the universe had other plans, taking care to put you through high school and college with Chris. And with your rotten luck, he’ll probably end up going to the same law school as you.

But you don’t have the time to worry about that right now. Your future depends on the present, and you’ll do your best to remember that. Your productivity mantra will keep you going, and nothing can stop you, from Christopher Bang to misogynistic old deans to… a locked bathroom door?

“What the hell?” You tug on the handle, but the door won’t budge.

Fuck.

You were so occupied with Chris that you forgot that after hours, all of the doors automatically lock to preserve campus security. Screw modern technology. You’re about to pull out your phone to try and call someone, but when your fingers meet an empty pocket, you realize you left it in your apartment. With an exasperated groan, you bang against the door as hard as you can and shout for help, even though you know it’s impossible for anyone to hear you and open the door from outside, the only way to free you. After a few minutes, you give up and slide down onto the floor, knowing you’ll have to spend the rest of this godforsaken night in this stuffy bathroom. Even if you somehow eventually gain the strength to bust this stupid door down, there was no getting past the padlocked main library doors. But seriously, which genius had the idea to lock the freaking bathroom doors?

You close your eyes and place your hand over your heart, trying to calm yourself down. You’re perfectly safe. Alone in a big, empty library. Soon, the bathroom lights will shut down, probably. You wouldn’t know for sure, though. You’ve never been locked in the damn library bathroom before. Perhaps you’ll make friends with the old campus ghosts rumored to haunt this building. And maybe—

The click and turn of the door handle startles you, and you immediately jump out of the way, so your designated savior can let you out. And you’re not even surprised when your eyes meet Chris’s own confused ones. Because of course it’s Chris.

“Why are you still here?” You ask him in a slightly accusing tone, even though he literally has just helped you. You don’t even know why you feel the need to be so pointed, but you are nevertheless.

“I was waiting for you to come back and didn’t realize the library was closed.” Chris lets out a sigh, rubbing his forehead as if it aches. You hope it does. “I have a question about the proposal.”

“Did you try calling someone? I forgot my phone.”

“Well, my phone doesn’t have any service.”

“Awesome.”

You don’t say anything further as you both exit the cramped corridor outside of the bathroom. In your hurry, you hadn’t even noticed how the librarians had turned off the lights, shrouding the building in darkness. Shivering, you subconsciously move closer to Chris, before you realize yourself and make sure to maintain a six-feet distance between your body and his.

“You can come closer if you’re scared,” Chris teases, noticing your discomfort. “We’re both stuck in this library together.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You’re the one who’s scared of the dark.”

Both of you fall silent as the remembrance sinks in. The day you confided in Chris about your autism, he had shared a secret about himself in return, albeit a less serious one. He had an irrational fear of the dark since he was a small child, and you knew any other fourth grader would have made fun of him for it. You had felt happy, then, that he could confide in you.

The inadvertent memory feels unwelcome, uncomfortable. Chris clears his throat and looks away. “Not anymore.”

You and Chris decide to make camp in the library common room, since although the main building lights wouldn’t work, there were a few soft table lamps you could turn on for some clarity. You set your backpack down on the carpeted ground and snuggle into the large armchair by one of the bigger lamps. You glance at the decorative grandfather clock in the corner of the room, and it’s just past midnight. At that moment, you really just want to go home, put on your favorite pajamas, and fall asleep while watching your list of comfort anime films. Definitely not being locked in the damn library with Chris Bang, of all people. Since when was your life an episode of Arthur?

“So, you wanted to ask me something?”

Chris fiddles with his hands for a minute, before looking away. “Never mind.”

You don’t even have it in you to be annoyed at this point. You’re just exhausted. You fall back against the tough cushion of the chair. It feels like you’re sitting on a clothed bag of sawdust. But it’s better than being out there, in the dark. And you hate to admit it, but you’re glad that you have someone to share the company of an empty library with, even if it’s Chris.

“God, I’m hungry.” You touch your stomach, feeling the gnawing emptiness there.

“Would you like a—”

“No, I would not like a pudding, Chris.”

The minutes eventually tick by, and you feel yourself nodding off. You had told yourself earlier that you would stay alert, but the drowsiness drapes over you like a blanket, lulling you into reluctant sleep.

The menacing roll of thunder snaps you out of your uneasy slumber like the sound of a car crash. Immediately, you double over and tuck your head into your arms, trying to breathe. Your hands, warmed from being pressed under your thighs, go clammy with a cold sweat, and you can feel the tears well, barely keeping them at bay. When your go-to breathing technique doesn’t work, you gasp for air, jerking in your seat at every new crack of thunder invading your perception.

Immediately, Chris crosses the space between your chairs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hold. Sometimes, thunderstorms cause you to have a sensory overload, and you can’t cope. Chris knows this about you, after you got severely spooked after one particularly bad storm in the middle of class in sixth grade. Chris continues to rock your body slowly with his, whispering calming nothings into your ear. Your breathing slows and returns to a normal pace, but Chris just keeps rubbing slow, comforting circles on your back.

Soon, the sound of the thunder dissipates, but you’re not entirely sure if it’s actually because the storm ended or if it’s because the overwhelming scent of Chris’s fresh, minty cologne has taken over your senses.

You look up at Chris, the boy you hate more than anything, and whisper the very last thing that you ever thought you would say to him. “Thank you.”

Chris just nods his head slowly while you untangle yourself from his hold. He gets the hint and lets you scoot away from him, but it’s not far enough. Mere inches separate you from Chris, Chris who helped you without second thought because you were having a panic attack. Forget every ounce of hostility you have shown him, he hugged you like he was your lifeline, which he nearly could have been.

He looks at you intently, his eyes glistening with emotion. “Why do you hate me so much?”

He’s asked this question multiple times before. The first time was back on the very first day of high school, when you both had English class together, and you staunchly ignored him. He continued to ask you the same thing over and over again, until your lack of acknowledgement made him finally stop and accept your new attitude towards him. But even though you’ve heard this question before, this time feels different. There is a certain vulnerability to his words, like he’s given up and is pleading for one last chance.

A part of you still wants to try and maintain the animosity you use as a protective barrier, so people can’t tell what you’re really feeling. But you’re just tired of it all, and the question tugs at you too. Maybe you need to reply out loud for both of you to hear, not just him. Maybe you need to affirm your hatred for the dumb boy who waited for you to come back from the bathroom and then held you during a thunderstorm. Or maybe you need to affirm the fact that you may not hate him as much as you think, but you still do. You don’t know. You hate him the most because you don’t know. So, for the first time, you answer him.

“You broke my trust, Chris.”

“When?” Chris looks genuinely perplexed, like he has no idea what you’re talking about.

With a scoff, you glare up at the ceiling, unable to look him in the eye. “You told everyone about my autism. When I specifically said that I wanted to keep it a secret.”

He shakes his head in a vigorous panic. “I didn’t tell anyone. I promise I didn’t. I promise it wasn’t me.”

Then who was it?

As if he hears your thoughts, Chris sighs and indulges them. “Jessi. She saw your aide and followed him to his office. She was telling everyone about it, I swear.”

And it makes sense. His explanation checks out, and this all could have been a grand misunderstanding on your part, because of course Jessi would have snooped into your business. You couldn’t save your privacy for long with someone like Jessi hovering. And the thing is, you’re not even surprised. You knew in your heart the entire time that you could have been mistaken, that it was strange that Chris would have violated you like that, but it was just easier to blame him for your pain instead of confronting it. Or so you thought.

“And when everyone found out, I tried defending you. I never, ever would want to hurt you. Please believe me.”

Chris’s eyes are shining with earnesty, and you know he’s telling the truth. But that doesn’t erase all of the years you were hurting. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”

“It didn’t even occur to me that it was the reason you stopped talking to me. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

You close your eyes and lean back. “Chris, you don’t have anything to be sorry about. This is on me.”

You feel your hatred towards Chris fade, and all there is left in you is a deflated pocket of sorrow. Your whole goal was to stay focused, but in reality, you’ve put so much time and energy into despising Chris. And that wasn’t the only way you hurt yourself. You also deprived yourself of what could have been a wonderful friendship.

“I do,” Chris insists, interrupting your thoughts. “I was stupid. I gave up so quickly. It hurt me too, not just you.”

You raise your head and tiredly gaze at him. Even in the dark, he looks beautiful. And it’s not merely his looks, but truly his character that shines through. You spent hours picking apart his personality, trying to find flaws and reasons to demonize him, not knowing that in the process, you were the monster yourself. You constantly complained about his lack of initiative and response, when in reality, you never let him actually do anything. You can’t even fathom why he’s being so understanding, or all of his attempts to work with you, even after your cold treatment of him.

“What do you mean, Chris?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this.” Chris groans. “I used to like you. There.”

You perk up. Well, now you’re shocked. “Wait, really? I used to like you, too!”

There’s disbelief written all over Chris’s face. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

Both of you burst into laughter, like you weren’t having a heart-to-heart five minutes ago about hating the other. It feels good to laugh, and for a second, you’re transported back into fourth grade, when you first met Chris.

When you were a kid, you barely laughed, which worried the crap out of your parents. The doctors said it was common among individuals with autism, but it didn’t seem that way when you walked around, unsmiling and unfeeling. You weren’t completely socially inept, or exactly shy, but you preferred to keep to yourself. And then Chris had offered you a pudding. You felt like friendship was worth something, then. You felt seen. And maybe that scared you a little bit, being on the edge with someone who made you feel so deliciously raw. Maybe that’s why you didn’t fight back for Chris, because you would rather leave than be left.

Chris rakes his fingers through his hair, the ghost of a smile playing upon his lips. “You know, I still like you.”

“Very funny.”

“I do.”

“You’re crazy. Stop that.”

“Maybe.” Chris throws his hands up and then lets them fall back down. “I like you and don’t want to stop.”

“After how I treated you for the past eight years?” You nearly laugh with how ridiculous he’s being. Hell, if you were in his place, you’d hate yourself.

“But you were hurt. A lot.” Chris shrugs. “You’ve become this amazing woman. You’re… incredible. Hardworking, talented, smart. Keeping in mind how you truly believed I was the cause for your pain, you excelled in spite of the fact that the universe kept pulling us together.”

You shake your head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s okay. I’ll say it for you.” Chris looks down at his palms. “I like you, and that’s why I became co-president and faked having no service on my phone so we would be stuck in a library together.”

“Chris—”

“Please. Don’t say no. Not after eight years of me pining for you, knowing you’d never look at me again. Knowing I was falling deeper every time you cursed at me. Please, Y/N. I want to know you again, and you to know me. Please.” Chris’s expression is begging, and it pains you even more.

You still hurt, but it’s a different kind of torture. It’s the kind of hurt that’s the result of yearning, the kind of yearning that stems from hatred, subjugated love, and uncertain acceptance. It’s the kind of hurt that tells you that you don’t deserve him. He deserves someone who isn’t a complete and utter coward. Someone who hasn’t been completely and utterly in love with him all this time, but too stubborn and too pained to admit it. Someone who isn’t completely and utterly awed by the magnificent man he is, but too bitter to say it.

Chris reaches out his hand and places it on the side of your face, imploring you with his hesitant palm. You melt into his touch, when a mere few hours ago, you would have slapped it off of you. His skin is warm against yours, and the softness radiating from him pulls at you. You want to say yes. You want to open a blank page in the book. You want to start fresh with this beautiful boy in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” And you’re not just apologizing for pushing him away before, but now too. You don’t get to have him.

“Just… why?”

“I can’t. I’m so sorry.” The repeated dialogue from you has a note of finality that even Chris’s insolence can’t break through.

And just like that, all of the bridges you both repaired come crumbling down, but this time, it’s on purpose. You’ve always been quick to make decisions, never mulling over a choice for too long. You loved Chris. You hated Chris. You still love Chris. But you reject Chris. It’s easy to do, like one computer command after the other. But then Chris retracts his touch and wordlessly gets up from the armchair, curling up into his original position in the other chair. He’s facing away from you, you feel like you’ve struck an error message. The hours pass, and the softly snoring form of Chris reminds you of a blaring bad request, a pile of code that just won’t compile. Eventually, your computer shuts down too, and you share a temporary commonality with Chris when you fall asleep.

“Wake up dear.”

Your eyes fly open, and you sit up. Natural light pours in through the big windows, and you can feel your skin drinking in the sunshine. The librarian’s kind eyes are watching you with worry, but all you can think of is the night before. Perhaps it was all a dream. You were angry at Chris and then fell asleep after coming back from the bathroom. End of story. But then you feel that familiar ache in your heart, and you know you weren’t hallucinating everything that transpired between you both.

You turn to look at the librarian, who still seems immensely concerned, especially with your disoriented morning look. “I’m sorry, where is Chris?”

“He just left a few minutes ago, sweetheart. I was opening up for the day, when I saw him waiting to be let out at the front entrance. Nearly scared the life out of me.” The librarian places her hand on your shoulder. “He told me you were here.”

The librarian rushes off to her personal office to make you some tea, and you’re left alone in the common room. And no one else is here either, because today is Saturday and your university is supposed to be hosting a football game against a rival school. You look down at your body and notice a jacket wrapped around your body, one that definitely isn’t yours. You don’t have an expensive leather jacket that smells like Tom Ford cologne. It was freezing last night because the library doesn’t have heating, and Chris must have woken up in the middle of the night and draped it on you. You feel another pang in your heart as you think of Chris leaving without speaking to you. You deserve it, though.

As you sadly walk out of the library, you decide to skip the game even though as student body president, you should be there, representing the school. You reach your off-campus apartment, the one that you were so excited to finally lease a few months ago, and sprawl onto your couch, already feeling weary of the day. Nevertheless, you fish your phone out of the jumble of couch pillows and call Soobin, because he must be worried sick. You always text him goodnight before you sleep, and yesterday must have been the first time you didn’t.

“How could you?” He’s angry, a new color on him.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. The library—” You start, but Soobin doesn’t let you finish.

“Forget the library! I’m talking about Chris. He’s stepping down from the president role because of you, Y/N!” Soobin screeches into the phone, making you shoot up in alarm.

“What?!”

“I overheard him tell everything to Jisung. Y/N, this is wrong.” Soobin sounds calmer, but nonetheless distressed. “I know you love him. You shouldn’t let this happen.”

Your face heats up in surprise. “How—”

You hear Soobin tsk, and you just know he’s shaking his head, disappointed. “I didn’t even have to hear him talk to know that. There’s a fine line between love and hate. You can never stop talking about him!”

There’s no denying it now. You shouldn’t have underestimated Soobin; no matter how silly he can be, he is your best friend in the whole world after all. And maybe all the time, the only one you were lying to was yourself.

You grab a pillow and cradle it, just wanting to cry it all out. You always have more intense feelings than others, but right now, your heart hurts so much that you doubt you can blame being emotional on your autism.

“Soobin, what do I do? I don’t want to hurt him, but…” You sniffle. “I didn’t even give him a chance to explain himself. For eight years, I made my whole personality hate Chris. And now, he forgives me and I accept it? I’m so stupid, God.”

“I agree you’re stupid.”

“You’re not making me feel better!”

“Sorry.” Soobin sighs. “But you need to get over yourself and your drama. Stop making this harder for both of you, and just be grateful that you haven’t lost him. Yet.”

And with that, he cuts the call in a way very unlike Soobin, making you groan out loud in frustration. Now you want to punch your pillow, because your best friend is absolutely right.

It doesn’t take long for you to find Chris in the packed stadium. Through the throngs of students eager to trade their homework for a good home game, you see him standing with one of his friends in an upper corner of the stands. When you were younger, you were obsessed with Greek mythology and thought that Chris looked like Apollo, the god of the sun, with his golden curls and sunny disposition. Today, his light seems to have dimmed, as he watches the ongoing game with his hands shoved into his pockets and a forlorn look marking his gaze.

“Chris!” You shout to try and get his attention, but it’s to no avail. The cheering crowd is ear-splitting, and you have no other choice but to climb up to the top.

Grunting, you hoist yourself up the steep stairs and try not to look behind you. If you do, you’ll fall off the stands with dizziness, which would be slightly undesirable compared to what you have to do next. Slightly. With the final step, you haul into Chris’s row, catching your breath and a first glimpse at how high up you really are. The players on the field look like tiny ants, and you feel your stomach drop. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

But it’s too late to turn back now, because Chris has already spotted you and hurries over. You tense and lose your footing, stumbling over someone as they kick their legs in anticipation. Great.

“What are you doing here?” Chan places a toned arm around your shoulders and pulls you up, leading you to his seat. You clumsily collapse into the solid, curved plastic of the chair, and Chris follows next to you.

You then notice Chris’s friend, a heartbreakingly handsome man who you vaguely remember as Minho from your sophomore year literature class. He’s wistfully gazing at a very pretty girl who is chatting with Terry, Soobin’s old roommate, a few rows down. Minho then becomes aware of your presence and hurriedly excuses himself, rushing out of the aisle and disappearing into the crowd. You turn to Chris.

“Is he okay?”

Chris exhales, running his fingers through his hair, combing through it before the soft locks flop back into place on his forehead. “I… Minho’s just going through some stuff right now.”

“Seems like he’s not the only one.” You toy with your ring, twisting it around your finger. “I heard you’re resigning.”

“Who told you that?”

“Soobin. He was eavesdropping on you and Jisung today in Morningstar,” you respond. “Why are you leaving the role?”

Chris looks away from you and out at the field. Your university’s football team still hasn’t scored. “I’d just be in your way. This is for the best, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way. Please don’t. I need you.”

“You’ll be fine.”

This is what you thought you wanted all along, a world without Chris in it. Besides Student Council, neither of you share any classes or activities this year. If he left, you wouldn’t have to cross paths with him again. You could run the council well on your own, you know that. But you don't want to. You don’t ever want to imagine a world without Chris. He’s been by your side for so long now, and now when he’s about to step away do you truly realize how much you need him.

“Maybe. But I won’t be happy.” Against your better judgment, you reach over and grasp his hand, making Chris start in surprise.

Chris shakes his head, still skeptical. “All I’ve ever done is make you unhappy, Y/N. You don’t want me to be around.”

You sigh, knowing he’s not going to come around, not without the right kind of persuasion. “I was dreading having to do this.”

“Do what?”

You reach into the small purse hanging off of your shoulder and pull what you had scoured the entire city for in the past few hours. “Would you like a pudding?”

Chris looks bemused, staring down at the small cup of chocolatey goodness in the delicate palm of your hand.

“Or do you want a kiss?” You stare at Chris intently, trying to ignore the whammering beat of your heart. “What will it take for you to stay in your position?”

“W-what?”

“Or I could be your girlfriend. Because I really want to see where this goes.” You take a deep breath. “A bunny once told me that I just need to get out of the past. I’ve left it behind, and I’m looking forward, Chris.”

“Fine.” Chris swallows roughly and bites back the slow smile spreading on his features. “Can I have all three?”

“You never make it easy, do you, Chris?”

Before he can quip back at you, you grasp the collar of his t-shirt and tug him to you, your lips meeting just as the home team finally scores a touchdown and the crowd erupts in applause. You couldn’t care less though, because although the preteen you is jumping up and down like the rest of the cheering fans, the adult you is smiling into the lips of the man you definitely do not hate. Actually, you love him.

Chris slings his arms around your waist and pulls your body closer to his, sweetly laughing into your ear when you both come up for air. “Am I a good kisser, or what?”

“Shut up.”

And you’re kissing him again. Warmth blossoms in your chest, sparks igniting as you lean into each other after years of loving, hating, and longing. Your arms roving over each other coax all and any remaining hesitation left in you both, and it feels so right. You treasure the soft sighs of pleasure and elation spilling from Chris’s lips, his sounds more deafening than any overzealous football fan’s rally cry.

“So, do I not get the pudding, or…?” Dimples cut across Chris’s cheeks as he pulls away from your lips once more just to shoot you a cheeky grin.

You roll your eyes playfully and reach into your lap, tearing open the foil wrapper on top of the pudding cup before handing it to him. “You and your pudding.”

“You know you love it.”

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ficsforeren · 2 years

Text

Falling

Pairing: Eren Jaeger X Female Reader

Genre: College Boyfriend AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: In the absence of your warmth, Eren Jaeger begins to reminisce the loving memories he’s shared with you in the past three years, regretting how your first fight turned into something that ended it all.

Lyrics are taken from this beautiful song: Harry Style’s Falling.

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex, alcohol consumption, swearing

Word Count: 15k+

Poster Art by @_sonagee on Twitter

I’m in my bed

And you’re not here

The small, barely prominent crack on the ceiling of his bedroom has always gone unnoticeable. It stands only as a silent witness of the meeting between a pair of plump lips to redder ones, the breathless sounds of frantic moans, and the sacred exchange of loving words. But not tonight. Tonight, as he lays on his bed, sheets all crumpled but with the absence of your warmth, Eren notices everything.

He notices how quiet his room—his entire apartment—feels when it’s only the sound of his own soft breathing that fills the air. His black shirt is fully unbuttoned, his skin a golden canvas missing your marks. The tattoos that painted his rib cages are no longer coated by the shade of your lipstick.

His pillow, no longer smelling like your favorite shampoo, is covered by his long chestnut hair, now all tousled and unkempt. He misses the way you threaded your fingers through them, the way you lulled him to sleep with your little hum, his head a comforting weight on your lap. The walls, the carpet, the bedsheets, the framed photographs that remind him of the joy that used to bloom on his face—everything feels monochromatic. Empty. Shallow. Because ever since you walked out of his life, you’ve taken all the colors with you, leaving him solely in black and white.

And now, Eren doesn’t know what to do anymore. Or to feel. He’s a puppet missing his puppeteer.

And there’s no one to blame

But the drink in my wandering hands

With the bitter taste of vodka sitting on his tongue, he closes his eyes, allowing himself to remember but not forgive the words he once said to you.

With your name echoing through the labyrinth of his mind, regret starts to suffocate him at once.

Forget what I said

It’s not what I meant

And I can’t take it back

I can’t unpack the baggage you left

What hurts from a break-up is not the parting of two hearts, but the memories that had been drawn deep within them. It’s not the kiss that he misses, it’s the taste of your lips—the faint scent of cherry that sits pale in comparison to your natural flavor. It’s the way they move against his own, timid at first then consuming all at once. And how there will be no other girl that will taste the same, feel the same, or be able to draw out the same kind of feelings from him.

It’s funny, Eren thinks, how he can only see your smile behind his closed eyelids these days, but he doesn’t find himself laughing. He can’t even remember the last time he found a reason to smile, now that you’re gone.

The moon was hiding behind thick clouds, he remembers, that night when fate walked in and introduced you to one another.

***

Eren’s eyes were glued to the silver screen, adrenaline pumping through his veins as he witnessed the battle between the villain and the protagonist grow deadly. It had been a while since he last saw a movie in a theater, and the experience was certainly different. The thrill of it soon perished, however, when the sweet scent of your shampoo fleeted through his nose.

Your head was falling onto his shoulder as you waned into slumber. Unbeknownst to you, you had been leaning your weight entirely to a stranger whose bergamot perfume compelled you to focus on anything besides the movie. It was as pleasant as it was distracting. But after being sleep-deprived for three days, exhaustion finally took over and you fell asleep so deeply that you didn’t even have the strength to dream.

Your weight on his body was unfamiliar but it wasn’t uncomfortable for twenty-year-old Eren Jaeger. As he took a glance at your face, it wasn’t your beauty that kept him frozen. It was how peaceful you looked, almost like an enervated child curling up after spending her time chasing butterflies on the field.

Eren shifted carefully on his seat, attempting his best to give you comfort by providing more space for you to lean your weight on. Then he stayed still, his lips bowed and his smile never faltered away. The movie was long forgotten. He didn’t spare a glance at the screen even when people were gasping at the sight of the protagonist dying in his lover’s arms. He felt intrigued by the thought of your name, wondering whether it would sound as nice as the soft breathing that flowed past your lips.

When the credits rolled, Eren told Armin and Jean in hushed whispers to leave without him, throwing icy glares at them when they grinned devilishly at the sight of you sleeping on his shoulder. He went as far as kicking Jean on the shin when his voice rose too loudly, afraid that he’d wake you up, which made the other man complain because certainly, the background music was louder than anything else in the room. Nevertheless, you were still deep in your sleep.

Eren begged for more time when one of the concessions workers asked him to leave. Refused and left with no other solution, he sighed and turned his head toward you.

“Hey,” he murmured, his heart palpitating in anticipation of finally hearing your voice. “Sorry, but uhh… We need to go.”

His voice was foreign to your ears but it was so deep, so soothing, almost like a lullaby, that you snuggled closer, wanting nothing more than to listen to it forever. It took Eren three times more with his cheeks reddening to call upon you until you finally found the power to detach yourself from your stupor.

“Hey there.” A boy—a beautiful boy—with glowing, sun-kissed skin and a pair of sharp green, enticing eyes with a gaze intense enough to kiss your skin with fire, greeted you as you blinked yourself awake. His voice was as deep as the ocean, as sweet as honey. His hair was tied up in a messy bun, making him seem juvenile, matching the little twinkle in his eyes. He beamed at you with a smile so warm that it nearly melted your heart, and you decided ah, I don’t ever want to wake up from this dream.

It was when the usher popped into your vision, stating, “I’m sorry, Ma’am, but we’re closing,” that you internally screamed oh God, no, this isn’t a dream, what have I done?

“So that’s what he said.” Eren’s smile was sheepish with a hint of teasing, and your heart moved on its own, yearning for him to display you another one. “But if you still have time to spare, we can go get some coffee or something. I can fill you in on the details.”

“D-details?” Your voice was hoarse from sleep, embarrassingly so. “About what?”

“About the movie you just missed.” The grin he showcased grew wider and this time, it was so utterly mischievous that you had to break your gaze before heat rushed to your face. “The fact that you’re here watching a movie by yourself must mean you’re interested to see how the trilogy ends. I can help you with that.”

“Umm—” You rummaged your purse, pretending like you were searching for something when it was only a poor excuse for you to not be captivated by his eyes longer than you already were. “It’s fine, I can look it up online.”

“But then what should I do with this?” He brought his right hand in the air, pursing his lips. “My arm’s falling asleep. Shouldn’t you take responsibility for it?”

The horrified look on your face made him laugh, and his laughter became the reason why you decided to throw all common sense away and just went with what felt right. “I-I’ll pay for the coffee.”

“Well, then, I’ll make sure to go somewhere expensive.” He threw a wink before he rose to his feet, offering you a hand to help you stand from your seat. “I’m Eren, by the way.” When your skin met, his palm was scorching against your icy one. You told him your name, stammering as you did it and he chuckled.

You turned flustered. “W-why are you laughing?”

You’re just so cute, he thought. “Nothing. I just thought your name fit you so well.”

You frowned, not sure if you should take it as a compliment but Eren didn’t give you much time to think. “Umm…” He tarries, looking down to see the way you’re still clutching onto his hand. You were too enticed by his charm, too comfortable with his warmth that you failed to notice anything else.

You followed his gaze, panicking before you released your hold. “I’m sorry, I–”

But he retrieved it again, gripping it tighter than before. “I don’t mind,” he grinned. “It’s too dark to see and I don’t want you to fall down the stairs. But you’re gonna have to treat me to some bagels too. I don’t do this for free.”

Your jaw dropped but you could only follow after him without a word, your body being tugged forward as he led the way.

You had expected that he would let go once you were out of the theater, knowing how weird it was for strangers to hold hands as lovers do. But when he did, you were still left surprised, not because of his action but the way your heart shriveled in disappointment at the absence of his warmth.

You didn’t realize that you wanted him to hold it longer.

***

Awkward conversations made you anxious but they died before you could finish your coffee. Like a phoenix, they were reborn into something that was supposed to only be shared between friends instead of strangers. With Eren, everything felt so natural, you didn’t even find the will to question it. Stories after stories, you talked to him like he was the most interesting book you’d ever read. His affable, carefree attitude was almost inspiring, breaking through your facade as easy as counting his fingers.

“So, how come you went to the movies by yourself?” Eren asked, his coffee long abandoned on the table as he was more drawn to you and the little smile you retained on your lips. “Boyfriend too busy to come along?”

A bit embarrassed, you brought your head down, hiding your eyes behind your fringe. “I don’t… have a boyfriend.”

Eren raised an eyebrow, lying his chin on his palm as he rested his elbow on the table. The way he stared at you made your stomach flip, and he reciprocated with nothing but a hum, tapping a finger to his cheek. His tiny smile held a thousand meanings.

You hurriedly took a sip of your coffee. “I, uh, I had some free time today and it’s my favorite movie franchise so I just had to see how it ended. But all my friends have seen it, so…”

“They didn’t invite you?”

“They did. I was just busy with work.”

His voice dropped an octave lower. “And they didn’t wait for you.”

“It’s—” Your chest tightened. “It’s fine, really. I mean, it would only make me feel bad if they waited for me. My schedule is crazy. I haven’t been sleeping properly for three days because of my deadlines.”

“Yeah, I noticed that.” He chuckled and you noticed how his teeth were a little jagged. “I could still smell your drool on my shirt, actually.”

“Oh, God,” you spluttered. “I’m—Please let me wash it for you.”

“And you expect me to walk home half-naked?” His naughty eyebrow raise made your skin tingle. “Or are you inviting me to stay over?” Seeing you part your mouth but lost for words, Eren tittered. “I’m kidding. I would’ve waited for you, though. To see that movie together, I mean. No matter how busy you were, I would. And even if I had watched it first, I wouldn’t mind watching it with you again.”

You shook your head, both in an attempt to disagree with his words and to erase your bashfulness away. “But that would be a waste of money—”

“That wouldn’t be a waste, and you know why?” He leaned closer, body almost halfway through the table. “Because for me, it’s never about the movie. It’s about watching it together with you. About us complaining about the plot holes, talking about the bad acting, laughing at each other when something reminds us of one of our inside jokes. That’s what makes it worth it.” As Eren realized how your eyes were locked with his, your breath hitching in your throat with the sudden proximity, he quickly plummeted back to his seat, flushed. “I mean, it applies to everyone—not you, specifically.”

So he could be shy, you concluded in your mind. And what else could he be? Maybe buried underneath those impish grins, laid a caring heart. Maybe he could be the one who’d understand when you missed three of his calls as you tried to survive your deadlines. Maybe he would cook you breakfast instead of just reminding you to take one. Maybe he could taste sweeter than any boy you’d ever kissed.

So when his curiosity for you matched the intensity you had towards him, you let your walls crumble, welcoming him with open arms.

***

“It’s going to rain,” Eren mentioned, eyes observing the night sky. Dark clouds rumbled deeply as they hovered above you, giving an ominous feeling. You were walking next to him, knuckles nearly grazing one another from how near you were though none of you was brave enough to close the distance.

Although obvious, you decided to humor him. “Yeah? How can you tell?”

“‘Cause I’m psychic.” The added wink at the end was a bonus but to you, it became the main reason why you had to drag your gaze to your feet. Funny how for the past three hours, your smile never faded away–almost to the point that your cheekbones began to hurt–when you could barely remember the last time you found amusement in anything.

“Are you cold?” he asked, and you promptly shook your head no. Unfortunately for you, your body betrayed you. Eren chuckled softly when he noticed the shivers that ran through your spine. “Want me to lend you my jacket?”

“Oh—no, it’s fine, I’m—”

“It was a rhetorical question, dummy.” The body heat that was imprinted on his black leather jacket made you feel well aware of just how warm he actually was. The scent of his bergamot perfume was overwhelmingly delightful, but there was another scent underneath it; something that reminded you of summer, sunlight, and sandalwood which made you wonder, maybe, if he wasn’t wearing this perfume, he’d smell just like this.

He pushed your hair away from your collar, straightening the jacket until it enveloped you entirely with its warmth. “Better?”

You eventually managed to snap yourself out of your reverie. “Were you always this smooth with women?”

“No, I just practiced in front of my mirror a lot.”

“Practiced what?”

He wiggled his eyebrows. “The art of seduction.”

“Is that so?” Your cheeks began to warm but it was probably because of the jacket. “Guess I should try that sometimes,” you joked.

“I don’t think you need it,” he cooed, bending himself down a little so you were eye-to-eye. “You already have me wrapped around your fingers from the second I laid my eyes on you.” When you turned petrified by his words, his laughter reverberated through the air. “Now, that’s an example. How did I do?”

Ignoring your racing heart, you retorted, “Terrible.”

“Then will you let me practice on you so I can get better?”

Just like that, you found yourself sporting another smile. “Now, that was smooth.”

Life had been dull, with you repeating the same routines over and over again. Your job had taken up most of your precious hours. Being with Eren was a breath of fresh air. A stranger who was attentive to every little gesture you made, every little word that escaped your mouth, as much as he easily stole your attention away. His confidence was inspiring, his laughter was contagious, and you adored every little bit of his quirkiness. Once you opened yourself to him, Eren burst in like fireworks, painting a million shades of colors on your monochromatic world.

“This feels like a date,” he said, smiling diffidently to himself. “Would it be okay for me to think of it as a date?”

Suddenly, your vocabulary had diminished into nothing but his name. You nodded, and surprisingly enough for you, Eren snickered, hand reaching out to playfully—almost childishly—ruffle your strands. “Thanks. Then a date it is.”

You wished time could go slower so you could savor the moment, memorizing the heart shape of his lips when he grinned.

You stopped in front of your apartment building, a breeze of cold night wind caressing your cheeks. “Umm, this is me,” you announced stiffly, dismantling his jacket from your body. “Thank you… for this.”

Eren’s fingertips grazed against your knuckles and it took longer than necessary for him to retrieve it from your hand. “You’re welcome.”

“And also…” Your mind strayed away from forming the right words as you watched him wear back his jacket, how it fitted him so perfectly, how effortlessly handsome he looked in a simple white tee and a pair of dark jeans. “Umm, thank you for walking me home.”

“Thank you for giving me the chance.” His smile reminded you of spring, your favorite season, the way it blossomed on his face, so warm and beautiful. “I could’ve been a serial killer, you know. Showing me where you live isn’t too smart.”

“You don’t look like a serial killer to me.”

“Yeah?” The same angelic smile turned devilish. “Then, how do I look like to you?”

You were fast to pivot on your heels. “It’s late. I should go.”

His laughter filled the air. “Wait, you haven’t said good night yet.”

“Then good ni—“ Your word died on your tongue when a pair of plump lips found their way to your cheek. They only lightly brushed against your skin but they stole your entire breath away as if he was tasting your mouth. He retraced his steps before you could respond properly, biting the corner of his lip as uncertainty filled his eyes.

“Sorry if that’s—“ Eren cleared his throat. He was visibly worried, afraid that he might have gone too fast and too far. “Umm, good night.”

You felt lightheaded, and you shortly blamed it on the amount of espresso you’d gulped too much during the day. “Good night…”

Eren was too timorous to meet your eyes, which was why you were brave enough to sneak a glimpse at his face. You decided that his sly, confident grin looked alluring on his face, but they were nothing compared to how adorable he seemed when he evinced that nervous, shy look on his face.

It took a few seconds before he gave you a meek nod and walked away, taking the same direction from where you came. Something queasy grew inside your stomach, your grip around your purse tightened. Is it all there is? Am I never going to see him again? With a heavy sigh, you walked toward your building.

Maybe he doesn’t like me that much, you continued to ponder. But what do I do now? I still want to see him. I don’t want to let him go without knowing whether I could see him again.

God, for once, just do something for yourself. You clenched your jaw, reprimanding yourself. Do something that makes you happy! Be brave!

Taking a deep breath, you chose to gamble.

At the same time you turned on your heels, shouting his name, Eren was calling upon yours and you both met each other halfway, breathless when it didn’t even take you more than twenty steps to reach one another.

“H-hi,” you greeted, voice quivering but not as much as the fingers you curled around the hem of your blouse.

“Hey.” Eren’s gaze softened. “I was wondering—”

“Can we meet again?” You didn’t intend to cut him off so abruptly, but the anxiety within you nearly made your heart burst that you ended up asking the question without waiting for him to finish his. “I—I mean—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“Yes, a thousand times yes,” he answered in one breath, with his sentence ending in chuckles. “God, you’re so adorable, do you know that?”

Your heart was still about to burst but for an entirely different reason. “That’s…” You tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear—a habit that seemed to appear whenever you were too embarrassed to function. “That’s great. I mean, the fact that you want to see me again, not about you calling me adorable, I—” Oh, God, okay, stop. “I guess I should leave now…”

He concealed his grin. “Aren’t you going to ask for my number or something?”

You mentally slapped yourself. “Y-yes, that would make it easier.”

The way Eren was gazing at you made you feel like you were about to fall from the edge of your seat. He must think I’m an idiot. But had you been brave enough to see the gleam in his eyes, you would’ve noticed how he was staring at you so adoringly. “Give me your phone then.” When you just stood still, too busy trying to comprehend that a cute boy was really going to give you his number, Eren added, “To add my numbers, Sweetheart. What, do I look like someone who flirts with pretty girls just to steal their phones away?”

“I wasn’t—” You quickly handed him your phone. “Here.”

Eren’s smile grew playful again. “Care to make it interesting?”

“What?”

“I’ll add my numbers except for the last digit. You gotta guess it.”

“What? Why—”

“Because you’re cute,” he repeated, cocking his head as he returned your phone. “And it makes me want to tease you even more.” You unconsciously began to pout and he nearly whimpered at the sight. “Don’t do that, that’s not fair.”

You mumbled quietly, “I don’t like being made fun of.”

“I’m not making fun of you, I’m teasing you. There’s a difference.” He sighed, fingertips aching to reach out and swat your bangs away from your eyes. “A huge difference.”

You jutted out your bottom lip. “Feels the same to me.”

Eren leaned in, his calloused palm finding its way to cup your cheek, lifting your face so the streetlight could illuminate your features. “You need to wash that pout away,” he whispered, eyes slowly drifting down to your lips that you had to remind yourself to breathe. “Or else I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

It was supposed to be just another attempt at teasing you. You knew he only meant it that way. But all traces of playfulness quickly vanished from his face when he noticed your eyes shifting to his lips—just for a split second—but that was enough. He saw the sign, he felt the chemistry, and there was no way he was going to let it pass just like that. Not when he had been thinking the same thing repeatedly for the last three hours you’d spent together.

It wasn’t your first kiss—nor your second or third—but it was the kiss that mattered and you weren’t sure why. Three hours ago, he was a stranger. Now, he sent a trickle of electricity coursing through your bloodstream, as if he was your first love. As if you had been wanting him for years.

A gentle rain began to pour over your heads, tiny droplets staining your cheeks but all you could think about was the way his thumb was caressing your cheekbone, how his lips were warmer and softer than anything you could have imagined, yet fierce and powerful at the same time.

“Am I going too fast?” He asked in a broken whisper, parting away just enough to murmur the question but close enough that you could still feel his words grazing your lips.

“Yes.” But you curled your fingers on the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. Eren sighed into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing as he let himself drown deeper in passion. What started as a chaste kiss became ardent, and you allowed him to taste you enough so that he would fall asleep thinking about your lips. Eren took a hold of your wrist, detaching your grip from his fabric, and moved it up, silently telling you to wind your arms around his neck instead. The second you did it, he melded his lips with yours in a passion that matched the blazing sun, entangling his long arms around your waist, nearly lifting you off your feet as he embraced you tighter.

You wanted to preserve this moment. Right here, kissing fervidly under the soft rain in the arms of a stranger, drowned in the feelings of excitement. Because if you were oxygen, then Eren was dying to breathe.

When it ended, you wished it didn’t have to. Eren’s eyes were heavy and intense as they peered into yours, growing a bit half-lidded when he shifted them back to your lips. “Hey…”

You mirrored his gentle smile, forehead pressing against his. “Hi…”

“I don’t know about you,” he chuckled deeply. “But as far as first kisses go, I think that was the best one the world has ever known.”

You tried to suppress your laughter but failed instantly. “Ren?”

He loved how you were bold enough to call him that way. The way his name rolled off your tongue… It was like you were playing on his heartstrings. “Yeah?”

“Judging from that line, I think you need to practice harder on your art of seduction.”

He pulled you in again, exchanging muffled giggles between playful kisses. “Let’s just go back to kissing for now. I like kissing.”

And if happiness had a form, it would’ve had his smile.

***

It’s almost laughable that the memories that once sparked so much joy in his heart have taken the shape of a javelin, striking him deep in his chest, right where he ached for you the most. It tasted like summer when he kissed you in the rain, and the pain that swells in Eren’s heart whenever the memory of it resurfaces is harder than the storm. And now, it’s the silence of the room—the absence of your presence—that pierces like a dagger through his skin.

But what am I now? What am I now?

What if I’m someone I don’t want around?

I’m falling again. I’m falling again.

I’m falling.

It was easy for him to fall in love with you. So easy, it frightened him at first. After his first relationship, the way his first love shed his heart to pieces, he thought he wouldn’t be able to love someone ever again. Wouldn’t have the courage to even try. But when you came into the picture, Eren didn’t even have the strength to resist. You were everything he ever wanted, an epitome of the woman that graced his dreams. And he was a prisoner, trapped under your spell.

So, why does everything have to end like this?

Now that he’s falling without you catching him, what is he going to do?

He hates who he’s become. He loathes the fact that he can no longer smile as easily as he used to. He despises how grimly he envisions the world these days. As if you were his entire future, and now that you’re gone, his whole world collapses. Eren no longer knows himself as you were the one who defines him. The one who gave meaning to his life. The one who mended his broken heart.

What if I’m down? What if I’m out?

What if I’m someone you won’t talk about?

I’m falling again. I’m falling again.

I’m falling.

You must hate me now, Eren muses, bringing his arm over his face, nibbling at the corner of his lip. The things I said… How I let you go without even giving us a chance… I must have hurt you…

“I’m sorry.”

***

It all began that night, on the day of your twenty-sixth birthday. Two years had passed since you shared your first kiss. Little fights over your differences couldn’t be avoided, but they helped nurture the bond you had with him, making it stronger. And each forgiveness was sincere and rich in kisses. Eren always made sure of that.

As you were fond of movies, your perfect date must involve watching a movie together with him so Eren, dressed unusually handsomely in a white button-down shirt, a pair of black khakis, and a matching black blazer that caught you off guard, took you out to the movie theater—the place where fate once meddled in and brought you to one another.

Knowing your taste, he paid two tickets to see the latest romantic movie, two buckets of salt caramel popcorns, and a coke for him but iced green tea for you, realizing full well how soda had become one of your biggest enemies ever since your diet started. He made sure that your seats were located on the corner top of the theater, private enough for him to snuggle close to you or steal kisses whenever he felt like doing it. You didn’t mind because Eren would only kiss you when you seemed bored, never wanting to bother you when you were too immersed in the movie. He simply kept his hand laced with yours the whole time to make up for the loss.

Complaining about the plot holes and making jokes that only you two could understand had become his habit to keep you entertained during the movie and it was something you always looked forward to. But that night, he was quiet, his eyebrows creasing in irritation but because of what, you were clueless.

“Are you okay?” You asked as you exited the building, this time being the one who reached out for his hand first. Eren stiffened but his shoulders soon relaxed as he intertwined your fingers together.

“I’m fine,” he assured, though his grin never reached his eyes. “Why, do I not look fine?”

You weakly smiled back, uncertain. “You just seem awfully quiet, that’s all.”

He rubbed his nape, somehow looking a bit perturbed. “I just… It made me remember something I’ve been trying my best to forget.”

“You mean the movie?”

“Yeah.” He sighed into the night, puffs of hot air erupting from his slightly chapped lips. “I don’t know about you, but I think the way the movie depicted their long-distance relationship is just bullshit.”

There was so much bitterness in his words that it nearly made you stop walking. Suddenly, there was a thick tension shrouding you, one that made you feel aware that it would be wiser to drop the conversation. But curiosity was eating you from the inside, gnawing like a starving wolf. He looked so crushed, so angry, and Eren was turning into a whole other person before you.

You asked him what happened.

“I don’t think I want to talk about my past relationship when I’m celebrating a special night with my girlfriend.” He forced himself to laugh about it, but it sounded hollow.

You unconsciously tightened your grip around his hand. “I just wanted to understand you better.”

“Hey.” He pulled you toward him so abruptly that you ended up falling on his chest. His smile was warmer when he looked at you. “Even without knowing about my past, you already understand me better than anyone.”

You were still unsettled when Eren kissed your lips to divert your attention, softly biting your lower one just to joke around to ease the tension. “Ah, I can’t wait until we’re home,” he whispered when all laughter had receded, his fingers tucking your loose strands behind your ear. “I want to make love to you.”

Your heart beat thunderously inside your chest. “You’re—you’re just gonna say it so blatantly like that?” He used to be so shy about it, asking you to join him in bed by pressing open-mouthed kisses down your neck instead of using words.

“Just wanted you to know my plans beforehand,” he simpered. “Or do you not want to?”

Face aflame, you hurriedly took a couple of strides forward, leading the way with your hand clamping his wrist. “Where are we going?” Eren frowned but followed you nonetheless. “The restaurant is right there. Our reservation is in ten minutes.”

“We can have dinner after.” You threw a look over your shoulder, too nervous to smile, but you hoped your words would deliver. “We’re going to make love, aren't we?”

His astonished look soon turned delicate. Eren’s smiles were always beautiful, but the ones that were caused by you were the brightest.

As soon as the door clicked open, Eren half-pushed, half-carried you inside his apartment that smelled pleasantly like him. He didn’t wait until it was properly closed before he latched his parted lips on your softer ones, fusing perfectly in the way no one ever could. You tore your own coat away before you pushed his blazer off his shoulders, and he let it slide down to the floor as you struggled with his buttons. He kicked off his shoes, his giggles muffled by your lips when he almost tripped from taking off his socks.

With his shirt now pooling around his elbows, Eren drove you to the wall. A stinging pain erupted from the back of your head as he did it too hard, not knowing his own strength, but when you groaned against his mouth, it was solely because you needed him as much as he needed you.

“I love you,” he breathlessly said against your neck, fingers dancing up your thigh and slipping underneath your dress. “I love you so much, it’s insane.”

It had been a few months since you first exchanged the sacred three words, but no matter how much Eren had whispered them in your ears and painted them to your skin with his lips, it still felt like it was the first time you heard him say the words. It wasn’t just because of how many promises he held underneath them, it was the way he said them—so sincerely, so desperately, as if you were running out of time and he needed you to hear them before you disappeared from his life.

“I—” You flinched, pulling him for another kiss again when Eren hooked his fingers on the side of your lingerie, hastily pushing it down your legs. “I love you too.”

The bed was not more than twenty steps away but it was long forgotten when Eren, still with his teeth ghosting across your lower lip, hastily unzipped himself and pushed his pants and briefs lower enough for your hand to find and stroke him to life. “God, baby,” he hissed when you curled your fingers around him, hot breath caressing your jawline. “I want—I need to be inside you—just—Ah, now, please, I need it.”

No one had ever wanted you the way he did. Every kiss was nearly bruising, every hug was almost suffocating, the thrill of it all was overwhelming.

It was almost a whine that escaped his lips when he vocalized your name. As soon as his desperate gasp and pleading moan reached your ears, the butterflies came alive in your stomach. Your skin tingled even with the lightest brush of his lips. Your fingers found home in his hair when he kissed the valley between your breasts, tugging at his soft strands and earning a low grunt in response.

You gave him a sign, affirming that it was okay for him to continue and Eren wasted no time. He lifted you up the wall, your shocked yelp cut short by his lips on yours. His hand slid along your thigh as your legs circled his waist, his hips pressing firmly into yours to pin you harder. “Ah, Ren—” Your gasp turned louder when he adjusted you higher, angling so that his hardness pressed right against the wetness of your folds, the friction setting your nerves alight.

Pushing the fabric of your dress as much as he could until it pooled around your waist, he shifted one hand to prop up your thigh, the other one aligning his tip against your entrance. He teased the head of his cock against your lips, the glide coursing waves of bliss through both of you. “Wet…” He spoke sotto voce, his breathing tattered at the sensation of your slick coating his tip. He repeatedly pressed it into your clit at an even, steady pace that had you floating and whining.

“You want me?” He asked breathlessly, his eyes having the hardest time tearing themselves away from your lips but they managed. “Tell me you want me…”

Eren needed confirmation. It wasn’t to feed his ego, nor to build on his self-esteem. He needed you to say it so he knew it was real. That someone as perfect as you were wanted him just as much as he wanted you. That he wasn’t the only one with his sanity deteriorating. That your feelings were just as intense.

“I want you,” you breathed out. Winding your arms around his neck, your fingers carded through his hair, accidentally unfastening his hair tie before they scratched his nape. “I want no one else but you—Ah!”

The friction made you moan, both in pain and passion, as Eren slid himself in one swift motion. The second he was sheathed deep inside, waiting for you to adjust to his size, he drew out a long sigh, eyes shut close as he relished the sensation. But when your gaze met, his half-lidded eyes were gentler than they had been the entire day.

Careful fingers framed your face, his thumb rubbing comforting circles along your cheekbone. “You okay?”

You weakly nodded, smiling sheepishly. “Are you?”

His chuckles were light and bashful. “I’m feeling great,” he said. He moved his hips without warning, just a little, not too fast, not too deep, but the sensation was enough to make you whimper and Eren swallowed every little noise you made directly with his lips. For every movement, he shoved you up and down the wall, your hair mussing and clumping against the surface. The fabric of his shirt slid down his shoulders in languid fragments, slowly revealing his lean back muscles into which you dig your fingertips.

A certain thrust made you squeeze around him and he drowned out his moan by mouthing against your shoulder, teeth prickling against the skin. “Fuck, do that again, baby, please.” And as he continued hitting the same spot, it was a given that you provided him with the same reaction.

Eren was insanely good at making you feel good, and in return, you wanted to give him everything that he desired. “I love how you feel around me,” he confessed under his breath as if he was talking to himself. “Perfect—you’re so perfect for me—”

Your arms were frantically clutching around his neck, trying to maintain stability as you fought against gravity. He buried himself deeper, snapped his hips into you with isolated precision, fucking you harder, and kissed you with the desperation of a dying man.

You tried to hold back but you couldn’t. It was too much. His breathless moans in your ear, the frantic sway of his hips, the closeness of your bodies—everything was overwhelming and you came hard on his length, legs wrapping tightly around his waist as Eren chased after your lips.

“Fuck,” he breathed heavily, his jaw hung low. The way you quivered and clenched around him sent fire through his veins. “Did you just come?” he whispered and you bit your lip in shame. The tiny laugh that broke free from his lips was both playful and filled with tenderness. “Already? That was fast.”

Flustered but not given the chance to react, you inhaled sharply when he picked up the pace. He was almost growling when his lips grazed against the shell of your ear. “Actually, me too,” he moaned, “Baby—fuck–can I come inside?”

“Yes.” You embraced him tighter. “Please, come inside me–ah, Ren–”

“Shit, I’m coming–” He buried his head in the crook of your neck, hips stuttering as he came.

When he let you slide down to your feet, your knees gave out under your weight and you stumbled back to his chest. He held you close, chortling as he kissed the top of your head. “I’m sorry, come here.” Bending down slightly, Eren hooked one arm under your knees and another one behind your back. He carried you in his arms, teasing, “Fucked you so good, you could barely stand, huh?”

Unable to deny it, you playfully slapped his chest. “Shut up.”

But all of his mischievousness dissipated as soon as you both slipped under the duvet, his bedsheets felt silky smooth under your spine. He cleaned the stain that dripped down your thighs with a warm towel, but dipped his head down to taste you directly with his tongue the second he was finished with it. Eren’s eyes never left yours, placing gentle kisses on the inner sides of your thighs and two more on your clit before he slid his tongue along your folds, slowly, as if he had the whole time in the world to please you.

He was always gentler the second time, slower with more feelings instead of sheer passion. So when he slid himself into you again, his forehead was pressed against yours, lips curving up into an innocent smile. “I never want to let you go,” he confessed between faint moans. “I want to stay just like this with you, forever.”

“I don’t think that’s physically possible,” you giggled, raking your nails down his spine and he arched his back in response.

“Wouldn’t it be great if we could stay connected like this all the time, though?” Eren broke away, sitting on his heels as he rested one of your legs on his shoulder. His fingers were kneading the skin of your thigh, hugging your leg close to his chest as he rocked his hips slowly, savoring every moment. “I mean—ah, God, baby—doesn’t this feel good?”

You nibbled at your lip, sighing. Good was an understatement but you weren’t sure you could find a term to perfectly define how amazing he felt around you. “It feels like you’re made just for me,” Eren said and you couldn’t have phrased it better.

From where you laid on the bed, you could take a good look at Eren’s viridian eyes—the way they drooped slightly, clouded with both affection and infatuation every time they met yours. How the muscles in his abs were flexing with every movement. The sinful, obscene sway of his hips. The little smirk that broke on his face when you accidentally moaned his name too loud—Eren was… Beautiful. Irresistible. Sensual.

“Baby?” Eren called, chuckling softly as he peppered open-mouthed kisses to your ankle that made you stare in a haze. “You okay down there?”

You pursed your lips. “Just enjoying the view.”

“Yeah?” He brought your leg down so he could fall back into your arms, his mouth meeting your jawline before he landed a peck on the tip of your nose. “Well, I’ve got something else you could also enjoy.”

You hummed, trying your best to contain your whimper when he suddenly brought his fingers down to rub against your clit. “And what’s that?” Though the way he slammed his hips harder against yours served as an obvious answer.

“Some caramel puddings,” he replied, nipping against your neck as he grinned, careful enough not to leave any marks as you had an important meeting with your executives tomorrow. “They’re in the fridge. You’ll love them.”

It was hard to focus when he kept hitting the spot that made you curl your toes. “Eren…” You pushed a stray lock of his long hair behind his ear before you caressed his cheek. “I love you.”

His movements stopped. You both might have exchanged the same words three or four times today, but he was always the one who uttered them first. Eren melted into a smile, one that was softer than the breath of summer. “I love you too.” His lips never left yours as they spoke each loving word with more sentimentality and less urgency. “Happy birthday, baby…”

You closed your eyes, indulging in the soft sense of his warmth, and during that moment, your heart, your soul, and your mind, they formed the same words.

Ah, so this is what happiness feels like.

***

“Ren?”

“Hmm?”

Both of you no longer had the strength to do anything but cuddle in each other’s arms. As Eren wallowed in the sweet moment of silence where your breath sounded like a soothing lullaby in his ears, you gathered the courage to ask once more. “I still want to know, after all. About what happened to you earlier, I mean. You looked so distraught… I can’t rest before I know what upset you.”

He stiffened, his fingers stopped momentarily from stroking your strands. With a sense of weariness filling his eyes, he surrendered.

It was his first relationship with his first love, back when he was fifteen. They were together for four years but knew each other for ten. She was a close friend that grew into something more. Even loving words didn’t need to be exchanged as they could practically finish each other’s thoughts. You felt a pang of jealousy gnawing at you from the inside, at the thought of him having someone so important in his life—someone who had stayed with him longer than you’d met him—someone whose name couldn’t be spoken as it triggered too many emotions.

But for the sake of understanding him, you cast your jealousy aside, no matter how much it lit your body on fire.

Eren’s voice had lost its usual cheeriness when he reminisced about his past. By the time they graduated high school, she decided to continue her study in another country. Eren let her go, supporting her plans and dreams like the perfect boyfriend that he was. They were committed to each other, faithful to one another. Eren never doubted her, not even once.

Until one day, during the summer break of their first year of separation, he decided to pay her a visit. He bought airplane tickets with the money he’d saved up for months, along with a thoughtful gift for her birthday. But the second he saw her opening the door to her apartment, he realized that she wasn’t alone.

She was never alone. He was.

“Why are you here?” She asked as if his presence was a bother. Him, the man whom she claimed she’d loved with her entire soul for the last four years. The man whom she had made love to on his bed just six months earlier. Eren would never forget the look she had on her face that day.

“It’s funny how you’ve been with this person your whole life,” Eren said, his words laced with venom as he kept his gaze fixated on the ceiling. “And you thought you knew them like the back of your hand and then one day, they betrayed you in the way you thought they were incapable of doing.”

You couldn’t find your voice, blending in with the silence of the room.

But he didn’t hate her, Eren confessed. He hated himself. He hated how stupid—how innocent and gullible he was. He hated how easily he had let someone else carry his heart around and let them do whatever they wanted with it. He knew that she wouldn’t have the power to destroy him if he had never given her the chance. Maybe, if his thoughts weren’t as clouded by his feelings, he would’ve noticed the little sighs she made whenever he told her he loved her. He would’ve noticed the way she sounded much brighter when she talked about her life instead of their lives together during their late-night calls. He would’ve noticed how distant she sounded whenever she spoke his name as if it was just another meaningless word and not the one that she used to murmur in short gasps near his ear.

And maybe if I hadn’t fallen in love…

Eren fell mute for a few seconds as if he was being drifted to another time and space. The hurting look on his face was so vivid that it broke you apart just by seeing it. Attempting to wash the pain away, you placed a hand on his cheek and Eren grew rigid before he discovered the strength to smile.

“I had to stay for a whole week in a country I didn’t know because I couldn’t refund my ticket,” he said, leaning into your touch. “All alone, since my girlfriend cheated on me and didn’t even care to apologize about it.” He snorted, still sounding bitter but his taut muscles had grown loose. “So yeah, I probably have some trust issues now because of that.” He tried to conceal the pain behind his laughter. “But it’s all right. I don’t care. I have you now, right?” He laid on his side, facing you with a boyish smile that made your heart race just a little bit faster. “I’m starting on a new page with you. And as long as you’re here with me, I’m the happiest man in the world.”

You reflected his smile though your heart was still left unsettled. “You’re lame.”

“Excuse me, I’m in love,” he corrected, pouting. But when his hand found yours, his expression grew tender again. Kissing each of your fingertips, he murmured, “We’ll always be together, right? Promise you won’t do that to me.”

“I will never cheat on you, Ren.”

“No, it’s not just that.” He gazed deep into your eyes. “Promise me you won’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

He knew what loving you could cost him, but you were different. And he was different. He wouldn’t fall into the same trap. He knew how to protect himself this time. So he allowed himself to love you just as much, if not more, moving on but never forgetting.

Your eyes were focusing on the way he brought your index finger between his lips, your digit pressing against his hot tongue. “Yes,” you softly whispered, hooking a finger around his silver necklace, and pulling him in for a kiss. “We’ll always be together.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.”

***

Your forever did not last long.

When you received a job promotion a year later, you didn’t know what to say to him. It was your dream job, finally achieving that position after practically hanging on for dear life for five years working in the company. The salary exceeded your expectation, and you would be working under a senior that you admired. The company would pay for all your living expenses and give you your own flat to live in with a balcony where you could see the sun rising behind the skyscrapers. It all sounded so perfect. Too perfect.

Except for the part where you had to move to another country that stood three thousand miles away from where he was.

You knew you should’ve said something to Eren the first time your director broke the news to you. But you couldn’t as you didn’t know how. During the three years of your relationship, both of you had avoided talking about matters that could lead to fights, only allowing yourselves to discuss trivial, mundane things that would make the other pout in annoyance but not fury. The first time you noticed this happened was when both of you became too busy dealing with your own lives. You had your job to think about, while Eren had his thesis to work on and there wasn’t much time to focus on each other even when you were staying in the same apartment.

Eren often released his stress by nuzzling his nose against the side of your neck, pulling you into his lap, whispering, “I miss you,” and you reciprocated each time with a kiss. But you always stopped before it got too much with you patting his cheek, apologizing to him using both your words and your gaze. “I’m sorry, Ren, but I have a Zoom meeting in an hour. I really need to get my presentation done.”

He just sighed, pressing a tiny kiss between your eyebrows. “Well then, I’m gonna go catch some sleep. Don’t work too hard.”

And as he walked to the bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving you alone in his living room, you realized the distance that grew between you. He used to look back, peek his head through the door, saying, “Would it really kill you to just join me for, like, fifteen minutes? I’ll be fast, I swear,” which you would answer with a laugh, assuming he was joking. “Why are you laughing? I’m serious!”

But now, he doesn’t even stop to say good night.

You knew you could fix it. He knew he could fix it too. But none of you ever said anything about it, afraid that it would trigger something bigger that neither of you would be able to mend.

It didn’t mean that you didn’t try. Every weekend, you would commit yourself fully to him and Eren would accept your unspoken apology with all his heart. You once attempted to drop some clues about your promotion during dinner when he made you your favorite dish, grinning from ear-to-ear as he waited for your reaction. Eren’s Spaghetti Aglio e Olio never disappointed you, but you know your words would. So when he was smiling at you, his thumb gliding along your knuckles as he took your hand in his, how could you tell him?

I just need more time to prepare myself. To find a better way to explain.

But before you could find your words, Eren found your promotion letter.

“What is this?” He asked to your horror, body leaning against the doorframe, your letter in his hand.

The maroon dress you were trying to fold fell from your lap as you stood up abruptly, eyes widening in shock. “That’s—where did you get—”

“What is this?”

You turned rigid. The weight in his tone was terrifying. “It’s… My promotion letter.”

“Are you planning to tell me about it?” He wasn’t shouting, didn’t even raise his voice, but to your ears, his voice was thunderous.

You fidgeted, fingers fisting the hemline of your shirt, desperate for comfort. “Of course, I—” But there were no words. Your brain was too jumbled to find a proper excuse because you knew, he didn’t wish to hear one.

Eren didn’t want to repeat himself. His heart was already breaking. He just lowered his gaze, emerald eyes turning darker and colder. Then he left the room without a word.

“Eren.” You followed after him, legs turning frail underneath your weight. “Eren, please, can we talk?”

He only stopped in his tracks when you grasped his wrist. “Did you say yes to this?” He turned around to face you, raising the letter he gripped so tightly in his hand. His voice was quiet, eerily so, that it sent shivers down your spine.

Your heart was somewhere in your stomach. “I was—”

“Yes or no?”

He only allowed you to choose, not explain. With a deep breath, you mumbled out, “Yes.”

There was a moment of silence where you could only hear your stuttered breathing but none of his. “Three months,” he murmured, voice deep and hoarse that you barely recognized. “The letter is three months old. You had all this time to tell me.”

Panic rose quickly in your chest. “I know. I was going to tell you but—”

The rest of your words died instantly the second Eren slammed the letter on the dining table. Your breath caught in your throat at the sound. Had his fist met porcelains, he would’ve shattered everything to pieces with how forceful he was.

Without another word, he stomped off to the front door, grabbing his coat with him.

“Wait!” You chased after his trails, knees wobbling. “Where are you—”

The door was shut with a bang.

No matter how many times you tried to call him, he never answered. The only thing you could do was stay in his apartment and wait until he came back to his senses. Now that you were alone in the living room, you began to notice just how many of your belongings were positioned in every corner of his apartment. Your toothbrush was next to his, your clothes were hanging inside his wardrobe, your favorite books were on his shelf, and the walls were painted with more photographs of you than his own. In every picture, you could see yourself smiling in his arms, laughing at something he did or said because that was it, wasn’t it? Eren was the source of your happiness. He was the only one who could make you smile so freely without a care in the world.

So why are we in this position now?

It was your first big fight and you had no one else to blame but yourself. Hours had passed by and tears began to well from how frustrated you were with yourself, but the front door flung open before they could outline your cheeks.

“Ren,” you called out, your heart ruptured at the sound of his name. Eren’s hair was ruffled by the wind, his bun turning messier than ever. His nose and cheeks were bitten by the cold night air, turning scarlet. His hands were inside the pockets of his coat, his eyes glazed by his temper as he kicked his shoes away. He walked past you as if you weren’t there, heading straight to the bedroom.

Judging from the scent and his slightly unfocused eyes, you knew he had been drinking. “Are you okay?”

No answer. He took his coat off, throwing it on the bed along with his phone which was clearly functional as always. You had expected him to dismiss your calls, but it still hurt being ignored.

With your eyebrows knitted in concern, you went to the kitchen to make him a cup of coffee, hoping that a little caffeine would ease the tension as it was something you were both fond of. You stopped to catch your breath, noticing that it was already two in the morning.

What should I do?

“Eren…” You carefully began, voice quieter than usual as you walked into the bedroom and closed the door behind you. “I’ve made you some coffee. It’ll help warm you up.”

Your lover was sitting at the edge of the bed, his phone between his hands, blatantly ignoring you.

“Can we…” You hesitated, fingers curling into tiny balls of fists. “Can we talk?”

The silence was deafening.

“Ren—”

“What?!” He suddenly roared, making you take a step back, flinching. “What do you want to talk about?”

“I…” You swallowed your breath, your voice is as shaky as your fingers were. “I know you’re upset about me leaving and I’m sorry—”

“Oh, so now you want to talk about this? After I found out about your letter?” Eren didn’t wait for your response. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this a secret from me! What else are you not telling me?”

Heart plummeting to the ground, you timorously replied, “Nothing, just… I was going to tell you—”

“Yeah? When, exactly?” Eren stood up, throwing his phone to the bed. “When you’re about to go? When you’re about to disappear from my life just like her?”

Being put in the same position as the person who tore his heart to pieces was both sickening and infuriating. “Of course not, I won’t do that to you!” Your voice gradually turned louder, more frantic. “I won’t leave you—”

“But that’s all everybody fucking said!” He threw his hands in the air, eyes blazing with fury. “That’s what she said when—”

“Well, I’m not her!” The booming sound of your voice startled you both, but it grew weak in comparison when the eerie silence followed. “Eren, you can’t blame me for what she did. I’m not her. I’m not her replacement. Don’t compare me with her.”

For a moment, Eren’s lips were pressed tightly until they grew white. “I never compared you with her,” he said through gritted teeth, his husky voice thundered like a rainstorm. “Not until now when you’re doing the same thing, saying the exact same thing she said to me.”

You cowered slightly under his gaze. The sound of the ticking clock had never felt so loud when you fought for words to say. “I’m sorry for not telling you about this sooner.”

“I don’t need your apology,” he snapped back. “I don’t care.”

“It’s my dream job, Ren…” Your posture drooped, grave sadness written on your face. “I’ve been waiting my whole life to get this position–”

“Congratulations,” he scoffed, clenching his jaw. “I’m so glad you got what you wanted.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. His words hurt more than you thought they would. “You don’t have to force yourself to say words you don’t mean.”

He clicked his tongue in vexation. “Yeah, well, I would’ve meant them, if you had told me about this.”

“I wasn’t able to tell you because I thought you’d be upset about it—”

"I suppose postponing it until we’re counting days till your leave is going to make me feel fucking elated, isn’t that right, Sweetheart?” There had never been a day where you thought his adorable, warm laughter could turn into something so spiteful. “Let me guess. You’re leaving in like, what, a month?”

You rubbed your tears away before they fell. “Six weeks.”

“Oh, that makes everything so much better! Six weeks!” He cynically laughed, throwing his head back. “You know what? You’re right. I’m so happy. Never been this fucking happy in my whole goddamn life—”

“What do you want me to do?!” The frustration that welled inside your chest finally broke through your lips. “You want me to turn back time so I could tell you right after I heard the news three months ago?”

Eren averted his gaze, his hand going to his head, pulling at his hair roots. “I just don’t understand why if this is so important to you—and if I’m so important to you—why didn’t you talk this out with me? Don’t you care about what I think? About how I’d feel?”

Tears were running faster than you could wipe them off your cheeks. “I couldn’t find the right time to tell you.” You choked out. “ And you were so busy working on your final thesis too. I didn’t want to bother you—”

“That’s your excuse?!” he gasped in disbelief. “I don’t fucking care about my thesis. I care about you! And you knew how I felt about being in a long-distance relationship—"

“That was the reason why I was waiting for the right time until—“

“Until you can tell me that you’re leaving.” He sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m tired and we’re going in circles. Why are we even discussing this when you’ve made the decision all by yourself? This is pointless.”

Embittered, you asked, “Do you want me to choose between you and my career?”

“No. I don’t.” He finally looked into your eyes, and you could see how there was not as much anger as sadness that emerged behind his lenses. “But I’m making my own decision.” When you frowned in confusion, Eren looked away, staring at the wall that was filled with memories as he spoke. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

“What?” It felt like the world was swallowing you whole. “What did you say?”

Exchanging stares with you, Eren appeared more weary than furious. “I just don’t see how this is going to work.”

For a moment, every cherished memory you shared with him fleeted across your eyes. Eren was standing before you, wearing the same clothes as he did on the night he spent embracing you on his bed, and yet right now, he felt like a stranger. He sounded like one, looking at you like you just betrayed him and drove a knife into his back.

“You’re drunk.” You reasoned out, both to calm him down and to wash the fear away from your chest. “You won’t be saying any of this if you were sober.”

“If that’s what helps you sleep at night, sure.” Both his eyes and his tone were glacial. “Go ahead and think that way. I don’t care.”

Dread was running through your veins, making you feel anxious about what was coming. “Wait,” you almost pleaded. “We need to talk about this.”

“I think we’ve talked enough.”

“Can’t we at least try—”

“I can’t.” The confession escaped his lips, and your facade shattered. Tears pooled in your eyes and his heart twisted as sadness washed over him too. His eyes finally spoke the true shape of his heart—how it was smashed apart, broken with neither of you being able to collect the pieces. He gazed at you as if it was you who was breaking up with him and not the other way around. “You know I can’t do this,” he said. “I don’t want to repeat the same mistakes. I don’t want to be that guy who constantly gets suspicious or overly protective of you because of my past. It won’t be fair to you.”

“I don’t care if you’re being unfair,” you replied shakily, “I just don’t want us to end what we have now.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice grew softer. “If we continue this, I know I’ll end up saying things I never meant to say. With three thousand miles between us, how often do you think we can see each other? With you being so busy with your new job, how often can we speak?” But the bitterness in his voice came alive when he added, “We could barely do that even when we were in the same room before.”

“It’s about that..?” Realization washed over you like a wave. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“Same reason as you,” he replied, “To keep our relationship the way it was. That’s what we always do, isn’t it? Pretending everything is fine when it’s not?”

A fresh swell of turmoil rose within you. “Eren, I’ve tried my best to spend time with you… I thought you’d understand that I have a job—”

“You’re right, but unlike you, I don’t.” Eren weakly smiled. “I don’t have anything going on with my life except you. I don’t even know if I can graduate college in time. But you’ve achieved so much. You’re only a few years older than me and yet you’ve already had everything figured out, and I admire you for that.” His words sounded sincere but they only tore your heart open even more. Eren walked closer, his fingers pushing the bangs out of your eyes like the way he used to do but it didn’t feel the same. Instead of giving you the comfort you needed, he only inflicted more pain. “You’re already perfect the way you are now. You don’t need me in your life.”

“No.” The desperation was so thick in your voice, that it made you wince but not in regret. “You’re wrong, you—There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t need you, Ren. I want you to stay with me. Come with me. We still have time.”

You don’t mean that. Eren brought his head down, unable to meet your eyes. If you did, you would’ve told me about this sooner. “And then what?” he sighed, sounding so tired. “What am I going to do if I come with you? I haven’t even finished my study yet, let alone have a job.”

“You can find one in—”

“In a country where I can’t even speak the language? I doubt it. I’m not gonna let you pay for my needs—”

“Then, I’ll make some time for you, I promise. Better this time.” Your fingernails were sinking into your palms from how tightly you curled them. “No matter how far we are from each other, I’ll call you every day.”

“I don’t want that.” His words were laced with frustration. “I don’t want you to force yourself to do something for me. And I don’t want to spend my nights imagining whether you’re spending yours with someone else.”

“You…” You were so quiet, you wondered if he could hear you properly. “You don’t trust me?”

But Eren shook his head, gaze softening. “I do. I just don’t trust myself.”

Your mind turned into a blank slate, unable to form a word. Eren’s breathing tattered a little when he exhaled, walking to his wardrobe to pick out some clothes. “I’m gonna go stay at Armin’s place for the weekend. Feel free to take out your stuff. Just drop the keys at the lobby when you’re finished.”

You stood still, icebound to the ground. It almost felt like a heart attack from the way your heart was hammering against your rib cages. “I don’t want to lose you,” you quietly professed, “I thought we could work this out…”

Eren’s movements were put to a halt just for a couple of seconds before he continued shoving his clothes down his bag. You stood on the side as he walked past you, his natural sandalwood scent had disappeared, buried under the amount of alcohol he’d consumed.

“So, this is it…?” You fretted. “For us..?”

Eren stopped taking another stride, glancing at you from over his shoulder. “It’s better for both of us, don’t you think?”

But he didn’t wait to hear your answer.

***

When you dared to appear at his front door six weeks later, it was on the night before your departure. He hadn’t called, hadn’t sent you a single text. He was a ghost, living solely in your imagination. But knowing it was your last chance to see him, you gathered your courage and took the first step.

Eren was wearing the same navy blue knitted sweater that he wore the first time you told him you loved him. You remembered how startled he was back then, unsure of what to say as he was afraid to love someone else after knowing how it felt like to have his heart shattered to pieces. The words I love you were merely reciprocated with a small “Thank you” and an awkward hug to serve as a bandaid. As you laid in his arms later that night, you spent every second with your eyes closed but your thoughts awake, trying to figure out why won’t he say it back?

You left for work early the next morning, your mind so distraught that you forgot to put some cream in your coffee. With one arm holding an umbrella over your head to protect you from the morning showers, you stepped outside with an anchor for a heart, bidding him farewell without having your smile reach your eyes.

Was it a mistake? You pondered. Should I have not told him? He didn’t look so happy about it…

Does he not… love me?

Before your eyes were misted with your tears, you heard your name being called. Turning around, you saw Eren chasing after you in the same knitted sweater, his hair still messy from sleep but soon to be drenched by the rain.

“Wait!” he shouted, breathlessly, both from running and the rush of adrenaline that pumped through his veins.

Your eyes turned wide in astonishment even when you failed to catch his words. “What—” You were about to run so you could shelter him from the rain, but he reached your spot faster than you could reach him. “Eren, what are you doing? Why didn’t you take an umbrella with you?” You dropped your handbag to the ground, not caring if it got wet from the rain as you focused more on the man who was shivering before you. You rubbed his arm up and down, providing him with warmth before you cupped his face. “Go back inside. You’re shivering.”

“I’m fine. I just have something to say before you go.” He broke into a tender smile, pressing his palm against the back of your hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it back last night. I was… I was afraid,” he admitted. “Being in love with someone means you’re giving your heart for them to hold or to crush and I didn’t want to go through that pain ever again but—” He stepped closer, his temple nearly touching yours as he brought his head down. “I love you. I want you to know that I love you too. I don’t want to lie to myself anymore. I don’t care what’s gonna happen in the future. I just love you, so much, that both my heart and my head feel like they’re going to burst.”

For a moment, you could only stare back, dumbstruck and in awe. Eren’s eyes shook as they searched yours, growing frantic when he couldn’t understand the feelings that churned inside you. “Say something, please?” He begged, cold fingers caressing your cheek. “Otherwise, I might have to crawl into a hole and die from shame.”

You chuckled lightly, overwhelmed by the sheer happiness that washed over you. “I love you too.”

He seemed so relieved, almost as much as you were, and he twisted his fingers around your strands, chasing after your lips. The kiss was sweeter than honey but knowing him, even the sweetest kiss emitted so much passion, it left you breathless.

“I’m sorry, I know you have to go to work,” he said, pushing you away just for a couple of seconds before his emotions defeated him once more. Your mouths collided yet again, a frenzied kiss that left your skin burning. “God, I know you have to go,” he whispered between needy kisses. “But just—one more—”

You let him. You let him kiss you as much as he wanted. You let him steal you away from the world as much as he pleased. After all, you were his. Body, mind, and soul, you offered everything to him.

When he finally had the strength to break apart from you, his eyes were conflicted. “Must you go?” His thumb caressed your cheek, and Eren wetted his already glistened lip as he stared at yours. “I want to be with you today.”

It didn’t matter that the two of you just spent the entire weekend together. No amount of time would be enough to satisfy your needs for each other’s touch. So you answered him with your lips meeting him in a frantic kiss, casting your umbrella aside. You didn’t care that it was cold, with big droplets of rain easily drenching you from head to toe because Eren was always ready to warm you up.

“Then take me home, Ren.”

But you realized as he tugged you back into his arms, soft lips pressing against your temple, you were already home.

Now… That memory felt like a fantasy, one that you could only dream of having.

“I…” Standing right before him after six weeks of separation was so nerve-racking that you found yourself unable to meet his eyes. “I just wanted to get the books I left on your shelf.”

He didn’t say a word, only stepping to the side to give you some space to enter. His apartment still smelled delightfully like him, so familiar that it felt like you were coming home, but instead of suffusing your chest with joy, it only broke your heart even harder.

“They’re in my room,” he said, all stern with no warmth like he used to have. Not our room anymore, only his. You nodded, making your way inside. When you closed the bedroom door behind you, hot tears were about to spill and you tried your best not to be suffocated with the memories of the nights you shared your feelings with him, bodies tangled underneath the sheets, lips carving marks on each other’s skins.

You couldn’t breathe.

By the time you managed to collect yourself, you came out of his room with two of your books in your hands while you left ten more on his shelf. You didn’t need any of them. It was only a poor excuse for you to see his face once more before you bid your final farewell.

“I made you some coffee,” he said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “It’s cold outside so…”

You timidly smiled. “Thank you.”

You used to spend hours chattering behind a few cups of coffee, talking about the things that mattered and things that didn’t because everything felt special when you shared them with someone you loved. But today, every sip of your coffee sounded louder than your voice as no words were shared.

You said you care

And you missed me too

And I’m well aware I write too many songs about you

“How are you?”

“I’m doing great,” he answered formally. It’s funny how he didn’t need spiteful words to hurt you. The absence of his affection in his sentences was more than enough to smother you.

“That’s good…” You tapped your fingers against the side of your mug. “Are you still writing lyrics for Armin’s songs these days?”

“No. I’ve been busy.”

“Oh… With your thesis?”

“Sure.”

Eren didn’t tell you the truth. He didn’t tell you how many notes had been written, scratched, and discarded just so he could deal with the thoughts of you. Didn’t tell you the words he wrote about your pretty eyes, your pretty smiles, your kindness, your passion, your everything. And how, despite his choice of leaving you, he still longed for them. Still loved them with all his heart.

The reason why he let you go was that he knew you would probably stay with him if he’d asked you to. He didn’t want you to have any regrets. Didn’t want you to choose him because you felt like you had no other way. Because when you love someone, truly, you’re ready to be cast aside for them to attain their happiness. You just happen to be walking on a different path, and Eren is not strong, nor fast enough, to walk with you just yet. Rather than wishing for you to stop, he wants you to walk faster even if it means he won’t be able to chase after you.

And Eren still couldn’t forget the pain. It felt like you betrayed him when you kept it a secret for months.

What else will you keep from me, if you can’t even tell me you’re leaving? Will you keep it a secret when you no longer love me the way you used to? Will you keep it a secret when you find someone new, someone better, someone who can stay to wipe your tears and hold you in their arms while I’m three thousand miles away from you? Will you pretend like everything is fine when we’re straying further away from each other every day?

In Eren’s mind, he thought you’d be better on your own. At such a young age, you had already managed to chase after your dreams while he was still unsure of what he wanted to have in the future. To him, you were always a step ahead. And tomorrow, you’d be taking your first step to another place where he wouldn’t have the strength to follow.

His thoughts about you were never-ending. And he wrote so much, pouring every feeling down on papers, that now as you stood before him in person, there were no more words left to be said and he could only reply to your sentences with silence.

And the coffee’s out

At the Beachwood Cafe

And it kills me ‘cause I know we’ve run out of things we can say

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” you eventually said and Eren glanced at you from underneath his eyelashes, but he never let his gaze stay for a second longer.

He knew. Of course, he did. He had been counting the days, dreading every second of it. “Take care of yourself,” he responded in a way a stranger would say to another stranger at the end of their brief meeting. “Good luck with your job. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

There were no pet names at the end of his sentence, no sweet terms he’d once associated with you. He even refrained himself from calling your name out loud as he was afraid it would shatter the walls he’d built around him. The walls he created to protect himself from hurting even more. You were truly strangers now.

“Thanks.” You forced yourself to smile, nails sinking into your thighs as you brought your hands to your lap. “You too. Don’t forget to eat your breakfast every day. You always skip it.”

It was your job to remind him, who used to serve fried eggs and toasts on his plate while Eren was the one who cooked dinner. Perhaps he remembered that too because as soon as the words departed from your lips, Eren brought his head down, simply replying with a hum so you wouldn’t notice the tremble in his voice.

When you took your leave, you handed him a note to your new address. “Just… Come and visit me whenever you’re in the country. I’d love to show you around.” It sickened you how formal you sounded, but you couldn’t say it any other way.

When Eren took the note, your fingers brushed against his, it almost seemed like time stopped, just for a little, and he wanted to pull you into his embrace, to tell you how much he’d been missing you the same way you’d been missing him. To tell you how much he wanted to be selfish, to have you choose him over everything else in your life because that was how you meant to him. You were everything to him.

Just like how you are to me.

So when he dropped his hand, tucking it inside his pocket, you knew it was really over. Finally, the word goodbye took its true form.

And I get the feeling that you’ll never need me again.

***

Three years passed by like eternity. Time progresses so slowly that your mind can only recall the taste of euphoria just like how your lips remember the softness of his kiss. But you don’t feel them, not anymore. The joy, the thrill of being in love, the burning desire of wanting someone and being wanted. You remember everything but your body starts to forget. And when your mind decides to abandon those memories too, what’s going to be left of you then?

Birthday parties had the taste of farewells. Love confessions, even when they came from a gentleman you respected, would never be able to fill the void in your chest. Ardent kisses only felt nice on your lips but they always left a bitter taste on your tongue. And your body felt incomplete, cold as if you had been standing in the snow for hours, missing the warmth he used to give you on the passenger seat of his car.

I wonder what you are doing now, Ren…

Have you met someone new? Have you ever thought about me?

Did you ever miss me?

“Because I do,” you heard yourself murmur one day in the darkness of your apartment, your mind intoxicated as you had drunk more alcohol than you intended. “I never stopped thinking about you… I miss you…”

I miss you so much.

Three years. Three years and he is still the only man your heart yearns for, so desperately, it hurts. You have his phone number memorized in your head but you can’t lift your finger to punch down the buttons. Three years and you never found the courage to do it, so scared of the thoughts of him dismissing your call, or worse, answering only to tell you to leave him alone. And you know he has your number too, but the fact that your phone never rang with his name flashing on your screen only meant one thing.

Eren no longer wants to have anything to do with you. Not anymore.

The four walls of your apartment are the only witnesses of the tears you cried and the ones that dried on your cheeks as you sobbed yourself to sleep. Some nights could feel exceptionally lonely that you had to drown yourself in sleeping pills to forget the sound of his laughter that once felt like music to your ears. Days, especially like today, feel longer when you have to stay home and you don’t have your job to distract you from him.

And when you start imagining him there, breathing the same air that you breathe, your heart constricts like you’re trapped inside a box, buried ten feet under the ground. The human mind is a powerful thing. As your eyes turn vacant, it runs on its own, playing scenes after scenes like an old movie. You can see Eren walking around your apartment in nothing but his plaid pajama pants, his top missing as you’d stolen it away, draping it over your own body while wearing nothing more underneath. You can see him hugging the old version of yourself in the kitchen, his chest completing the dip of your spine, his nose nuzzling against your neck.

“Morning,” you can hear him say, his voice hoarse from sleep. “You woke up early.”

Your giggle echoes in your ears. “Eren, it’s two in the afternoon.”

“Yeah, that’s early. Let’s go back to bed.”

“Wait, let me make you some food. You must be hungry.”

But Eren doesn’t listen, he never did. You see him lifting your body off the ground, throwing you over his shoulder with one hand wrapped around the back of your thighs. “It can wait. I want to cuddle,” he insists as you laugh. “You’re going to be the big spoon now.”

“Aren’t I always the big spoon?”

“That’s right, so you better spoon me right.”

“What does that even mean?”

Funny how a conversation like this is what you miss the most. You can never find and share a moment like this with anyone else. Or maybe you just don’t allow yourself to?

I want to see him, you confess deep within your thoughts as you lay your cheek on the coffee table. Your fingers are still wrapped against an empty can of beer, the taste of alcohol sitting thickly on your tongue. You just realize that you’re wearing Eren’s old hoodie again, its color fading from scarlet to salmon pink from how many times you’ve washed it. It was the only thing that’s left of him, something that you forgot to return and Eren didn’t care enough to ask for it back. You nuzzle your nose against its long sleeve, still trying to catch a hint of his scent lingering on its fabric even when you’ve failed so many times. There’s nothing left of him that lingers near. With your legs stretched out on the carpeted floor, skin sliding against polyester, you feel tears brimming in your eyes.

Eren…

Your doorbell rings, breaking the smothering silence. You attempt to ignore it, just wanting to be swallowed by the earth for now and never resurface. But when it keeps resounding through your hallway, you have no choice but to groan and return to your feet.

You wipe your tears away, your eyes still puffy and red as you take long strides toward your front door. Your hair is a tangled mess, your clothes rumpled and worn-out. You’ve never really cared about your appearance these days. You haven’t really cared about anything else.

You turn around your doorknob. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel well today, so if you… can…”

Your eyes grow wide, incapable of blinking as Eren Jaeger, the same man whose face has been haunting you night and day for the last three years, stands before you with his hand stopping mid-air, about to ring your doorbell once more before you suddenly swang your door open.

“H-hi…” He says, in the same husky voice that trickles down like honey. It feels so surreal to hear him again—to see him again. You’ve been imagining him standing on the other side of your door like this countless times before but you never allowed yourself to see what happened past that, knowing that it would only hurt you even more.

And now that he’s here…

What am I supposed to say?

He looks exactly the same, not a day older. He’s still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, with smooth golden skin kissed by the sun. He still owns the same high cheekbones, the same inviting plump lips, and the same beautiful long brown hair that’s cascading down to his shoulders. It’s as if not a second has passed by since the day you bid each other farewell with your hearts being trampled to the ground.

You can’t speak. It’s already a miracle that you can still suck air into your lungs.

Just like you, his mind turns blank as his eyes grow twice their size. You’re wearing his hoodie. Three years after your break-up, and you still wear it as if you had never stopped being his lover. Something claws against the walls of his stomach as the memories of those morning kisses you shared with him are revived in his head. You look just as adorable, just as beautiful, and God, it hurts him. Seeing you wear his clothes used to be his favorite thing to wake up to and now it just feels like God is playing the vilest joke on him.

You’ve lost weight. That’s the other thing he can tell once he’s calmed himself down. Even when half of your body is hidden underneath his oversized hoodie, he can still tell by the dip of your collarbones and the little protruding bones on your wrists. You seem pale with dark circles under your eyes, but none of them shocks him as much as the fact that you’ve been crying. He hates it. He always hates it when you cry, even when you look beautiful when you do. Tears don’t belong in your eyes. He wants you to have a smile written on your lips and nothing more. And he wants to be the reason for that smile. And yet, just standing before you like this, he becomes the reason behind your tears.

It takes everything within him not to reach out a hand and stroke your cheek, wanting to provide comfort with every fiber of his being. “It’s been a while,” he says, a delicate smile gracing his lips. “How are you?”

You feel layers of unsettling emotion, a sob threatening to rise fast to your lips. “Umm… Yeah… I’m—” Your words are strangled in your throat. “I’m doing well.”

“I’m glad.” Eren is wearing a denim jacket over a white tee, his bag slinging on one shoulder. His grip tightens around the strap as he tries to sort out his words. “Sorry for showing up so suddenly like this. I’m in the country for the next two weeks. I’ve got, umm… I’ve got a gig.”

“Oh…” You swallow. “So you’ve… graduated, huh?”

“Yeah, finally,” he chuckles, still sounding a bit tense but he’s doing much better than you do in masking his emotions. “I thought I was going to get expelled for taking too long. But I graduated two years ago, actually. And I got myself a job as a photojournalist. It sucks. I hate it. But it pays well and I get to travel for free so...”

You hear his words but you can’t seem to let them sink in. He’s like a ghost, materializing out of thin air, and your brain can’t differentiate between your dream and reality. “Congratulations,” you can only say.

“Thanks.”

Silence is like a pair of invisible hands that strangulate you by the throat and Eren can feel it too. Casting his gaze downward, he shifts his weight from one foot to another. “So, umm…” He clears his throat. “I just… I just thought I’d swing by to say hi since I’m in the country. I’m glad to see you’re doing well.”

You’re not. And he can tell that you’re not. He’s just not sure if you would allow him to get close enough to you to ask the questions he’s itching to say. He’s afraid that you’d reject him. After what he’s done to you in the past, choosing to end your relationship without giving you a proper chance to explain, it’s only right for you to distance yourself away from him. Because that’s the reason why you hadn’t called, right? You were angry with him. Maybe you still are. But that’s where he’s wrong. You didn’t call because you were angry. You never called because you thought he was.

To Eren, the thought of you walking away from him isn’t as terrifying as the thought of you having another man’s name on your tongue. You don’t know how nerve-racking it was for him to press a finger against your doorbell. How every ring made his blood curdle, his brain creating a string of mental images of you sharing kisses with a new lover on the other side of your door.

What if I’m too late? Eren’s fear echoes through the maze of his mind. What if she’s moved on to someone else?

What if she doesn’t want to see me again?

What if this is a mistake?

His thoughts turn clamorous by the second that he has to curl his fingers against the side of his black jeans to stop him from acting irrationally. “Sorry,” he says, the rush of adrenaline that filled his system before dissipating fast. “I shouldn’t have come here. I—I’m gonna go—”

A hand finds his wrist before he could escape. You keep your head low, your bangs the perfect curtain to conceal your reddened eyes and the tears that mist over them.

“Coffee,” you say, your lower lip trembling as you form your next sentence. “Would you… stay for a cup of coffee?”

Eren’s gaze shifts down to where your hands are connected, fire dancing on his skin. Just how many nights has he spent thinking about feeling your touch again?

With his heart in his throat, he answers, “I would love to.”

***

The clock on the wall is a better conversationalist than you are as it constantly replies to Eren's words with a steady, monotonous rhythm, while you are drowning further in silence with nothing but your heartbeat ringing vehemently in your ears.

“Your apartment looks nice.”

“I think I understand why you like living in this country. It’s beautiful.”

“Armin is doing well. He asks about you from time to time. Said he missed arguing with you about Breaking Bad.”

You answer his every line almost with a nod or a shake of your head and nothing more. You’re afraid to use your words. Afraid that he’ll notice the crack in your voice. Afraid that that little crack would trigger the rest of your feelings to burst and explode like a broken dam.

Eren, despite his successful attempts at moving from one topic to another, feels like he’s been stalling and repeating himself. He doesn’t want to talk about the country you’re in, or Armin, or your apartment–he doesn’t care about any of those. Why are you still wearing my clothes? Do you still think about me? Do you still see me in everything you do? Is there another person in your life or are you still wishing for me to come back just as much as I’m dying to tell you how much I’m still in love with you now? These are the questions he’s yearning to say. He just needs to part his lips and form the words, but fear is a vicious murderer. It crushes his hope to dust before he can let it spread to his nerves. So he waits for you to say them, waits for you to be the stronger one.

But you don’t say anything.

Eternity seems to pass by in reticence–both of you sitting on the dining table with your mugs between your hands and your shoulders slumped forward. The coffee you made him tasted like nostalgia. The sweetness of your first kiss, the bitterness of your last goodbye. Funny how your coffee would usually be left cold and forgotten as you were both too caught up in conversation. But right now, you let it burn your tongue, wishing that it would give you an excuse to remain silent.

Eren’s phone rings and both of your bodies jolt in surprise. “Excuse me,” he says a moment before he picks up the call. “Yes? Oh, no, it’s okay. I’m at my friend’s place right now.”

His friend, you chew on your lip, feeling your heart drop. Of course. I should be thankful that at least he still regards me as a friend. And yet, your eyes grow hot, your fingers clawing against the coffee mug that’s been resting between your hands.

The call ends and Eren comes back to you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “I, uhh… I have to go,” Eren says as he returns his phone inside the pocket of his jeans. “That was my director calling. There’s a sudden change in tomorrow’s schedule so I have to meet up and reshape our plans.”

He’s leaving. You panic. He’s going to leave me again. Am I just going to let him go like this? What if this is truly going to be the last time I’ll ever be able to see him? I still have so many questions I want him to answer. I still want to hear your voice.

Eren…

I still want to see you, so, please…

Please don’t go.

But your body betrays you in the end, your lips only moving to say, “Okay.”

“Okay.” He feigns another smile, just like what he’s been doing for the past half an hour. When he rises back to his feet, you mimic his action. “Thank you for the coffee,” he says, so politely that it feels unsettling. “It was really nice to see you again.”

You sink your nails into your palms, hard enough to make yourself bleed. You give him a nod and nothing else.

Shackles bound your feet together as you walk him to your front door. The doorknob feels cold underneath your quivering fingers but it feels like you’re sinking into a frozen lake with ice daggers piercing through your skin the moment Eren walks past you without stopping to offer you a last embrace. He keeps his hand tight around the strap of his bag, turning around just to say, “Please take care of yourself,” while he keeps the rest of his line to himself.

I wish you can be happy without me, I really do, he says only for the demons in his head to hear. But if you wish for me to stay… If there’s even a fragment of you that still wants me, I pray that you will act on it now.

Because I can’t live without you.

I don’t want to go.

I want to be with you.

I want you to love me again.

Please…

Please say that you love me.

But when you say nothing, he has to face reality. The reality where he’s nothing more but a memory, maybe even one that you wish to forget. And so, there’s only one thing left to say.

“Goodbye.”

When he walks away, Eren feels like walking barefoot on top of broken shards. He’s bleeding. He can feel his heart is, but you’re not there anymore to mend his wound. He smiles brokenly to himself.

I'm an idiot.

I shouldn't have come here.

But then he feels your hand grabbing the edge of his jacket’s sleeve and he turns around, radiant jade green eyes growing wide at the sight of you staring at him with your lips parted in a silent call of his name, your glassy eyes shaking.

For a second, the earth stands still.

“I’m…” You retract your hand, your stomach churning that you feel you’re on the verge of collapsing. You couldn’t stop your body from moving, only realizing once it did. It was a mistake. You shouldn’t have done it. You’re only going to make things even more unbearable than it is now. If you tell him the truth, if you wish for him not to go, then you can’t even be his friend anymore. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I… I’m sorry.”

But a moment of weakness is a moment of honesty. And Eren sees it. He understands it.

And that’s enough for him to abandon everything.

“Fuck this.”

Eren traps your jaw between his long fingers and smashes your lips together. You fall back, almost losing your balance as he pushes you inside your apartment and uses your body to slam the front door closed. He tosses his bag to the ground, driving you further up the door with his mouth scorching hot against yours. You’re doing everything at once—calling his name between short gasps, fingers clawing against the front of his shirt, tears lining down your cheeks.

Eren, Eren, Eren.

He kisses you with a degree of passion that can’t be found in anyone else. He plays music with your heartstrings and dances with your body in the way no one else ever did. You have found him again, your puppeteer, and he feels the same way. It’s easy for you to let loose, to let him take control and own you like he did before. This feels right.

If he’s being honest, Eren feels like he wants to cry. The taste of your lips, even if it’s layered by the saltiness of your tears, this is what he’s yearned during your years of separation—craved it until his whole body feels like it was burning to ashes. You’re here. You’re finally here in his arms again. The amount of happiness that surges through him paralyzes him, but your fingers sliding against his chest keep him alive.

“I love you,” he says between a string of heavy kisses, his voice muted by your lips. “I’m still in love with you.” He takes a hold of your wrist before he laces his fingers with yours, bringing your hand over your head and pinning it against the door. “Fuck, I can never love anyone else but you.”

You whimper against his mouth, struggling to return the words as you’re choked by your own sobs and submerged in his kisses. But Eren can tell and that’s enough. He will let your body speak for you.

Eren lifts your body enough for you to tangle your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He makes his way to the bedroom, two bodies meshed together in a queen-size bed. Clothes are shed in an instant, fabrics being pulled and tugged so harshly, you almost tear holes on his shirt. But once your bare skin grazes him, the softness of your belly plastered against the ridges of his abdomen, time seems to slow down. And it’s only when Eren’s lips are carving delicate strokes on the skin that covers your heart, that you can finally express the words you’ve been dying to say.

“Me too,” you breathe out, cradling his head in your arms, fingers weaving through his long strands. “I’m still in love with you, Ren…”

Eren feels his heart tremble. “You are..?”

You nod, capturing his lips in a chaste kiss. “I’ve never stopped loving you. I think about you every day. You don’t know how happy I am to see you–to be with you like this. Honestly, I–” A peal of laughter escapes your lips, just as soft and heartwarming as your smile. “It still feels like a dream to me.”

He feels tears prickling in the corner of his eyes. “It’s not a dream,” he says, nuzzling his nose into your neck. “I’m here with you now.”

And I’ll never let you go again.

Eren tries to avoid meeting your gaze as he knows he will break apart if he does. There’s just too much happiness for him to bear. He crawls down your body, each kiss he paints on your skin is a form of praise and affection on its own. He closes his eyes, his eyelashes damp with the tears he doesn’t allow to fall.

“I’ve missed you,” he says, mouthing the words against your thigh as he settles himself between your legs. “I’ve missed you so much, baby…”

He takes his time, and you’re thankful that he does. Burned by his passion is a great way to cure your longing, but the pang in your chest can only be healed if you’re smothered by his love. And Eren is ready to give it to you. He’s ready to do anything, give you everything, even if it means destroying himself in the process.

But you’ll never destroy his heart, will you? After all, even when you left him, your heart remained where it was. With him. Right now, he can truly believe it.

His lips carve love marks on your thighs, his beautiful eyes making their way to yours. He moves to your center, mouth moving agonizingly slow. He kisses the spot he’s kissed million times before and you almost close your legs around his head. He smiles. Your reaction is still the same. No matter how many times he’s done this to you, it always feels like the first time. And when he hasn’t done this in three years, it’s only natural for your body to scream with every bit of his touch.

“Ren…” you sigh in bliss, pushing back his hair. He moans at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue, clamping his lips around your clit as his gaze turns hazy. You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful. Even without your make-up, even when your eyes are still glassy and puffy from all the tears you shed, even when he can still taste the alcohol on your tongue, you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. It’s your heart that makes you different. It’s your love for him that turns you into a goddess in his eyes. And it’s his love for you that makes you beautiful—makes you feel beautiful.

Eren can spend hours pleasuring you like this, with his stomach pressed against the sheets, his arms hooked around your thighs, and his tongue savoring your taste from your slit. But you gently tug on his hair, putting a halt to his movement. One look at your face and he knows you can’t wait. Neither of you can.

He climbs up your body, his lips returning to where they belong. You circle your legs around his waist, lifting your hips as he presses down, two souls moaning in pleasure at the sensation.

“I didn’t bring a condom with me,” he says against your neck, almost deliriously.

“It’s okay–ah–” you gasp out, arching your back when he draws your nipple between his mouth, rolling the bud between his teeth before he sucks hard enough to paint purplish blooms on your chest. “I want you so please, just–just hold me, Ren…”

The desperation in your voice causes his desire to cloud his senses. He wants to take this slow, savoring every moment, but you’re making it harder by the second. He kisses you in the way he knows you adore, and that’s anywhere, everywhere, so long as it’s his lips on your skin. “Say it again.” He frames your cheek, thumb sliding against your bruised bottom lip. “Tell me you want me.”

He’s grinding against your folds, the underside of his length rubbing over your clit. “I want you.” You tangle your fingers around his necklace, pulling him down even further until his lips are just a breath away. “I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything else.” Satisfied with your answer, he melds his lips over yours in a way that bonds you to him, and you lose all semblance of reality. In his arms, you feel safe. At this moment, you feel infinite.

Eren aligns himself, his forehead pressing against yours as you taste each other’s breath. “Baby…” He gradually presses in, eyebrows furrowed and his gaze intent. He fills you up in the best way possible, his cock velvety hot, pulsing inside you. “God, you’re perfect.”

The corner of his lower lip is tucked between his teeth as he tries to hold himself back but you urge him to move, digging your fingertips into his shoulders as you ride the thrill he gives you. After spending years in the absence of his warmth, every slide of your skin against his evokes raw emotions that leave your mind dysfunctional. “I want to be with you, Ren.” You hold him close, letting him bury his head into your neck. “In all sense of meaning. I made a mistake and I regret it every single day. You’re the only man I’ve ever loved, the only man I will ever love, so please…” You quietly sob. “Don’t leave me again…”

His tear falls to your cheek, unable to put a lid on his emotions when you told him the words he didn’t know he had been wishing to hear. And despite your tears, you smile like it’s the only thing you know how. Contentment fills your heart as you kiss his tears away, and he laughs quietly, sheepishly, ashamed that he’s showing this vulnerable side of him in front of you. But that’s the whole point, isn’t it? He can only be like this—shedding every layer of his facade, tearing down every wall he has built—when he’s with you. You give him the freedom to do whatever he wants, and in return, he’ll grant you your every wish.

And if you wish for him to stay, then he will. Right here in your arms where you both feel complete. “I won’t,” he promises, his lips brushing against your temple. “I’ll stay with you. As long as you want me to.”

The contact and drag of his body flow in waves as he pushes in and out with fluid thrusts, and you match his movement, swaying to the rhythm that he sets. “I want to stay just like this with you, forever.”

It feels like Deja Vu when you hear the words you spoke and Eren feels it too. He plants a brief kiss on your lips before he says, “I don’t think it’s physically possible.” He offers you the same answer you gave him that night, his voice laced with mirth even when it still trembles.

You hear yourself giggling at his words, something that you thought you’d forgotten how to do. You tangle your limbs around his body, your lips forming his name as they graze the shell of his ear. Eren’s heart swells twice its size in his chest. He’s spurred on by the idea of you loving him, completely out of your mind, body twisting in his grasp.

“Baby,” he calls breathlessly, groaning at the feeling of your walls clenching tight around him. “I won’t last long if–ah–if you keep doing that–”

You catch his lips again, drowning in every bit of the sweet sounds he makes. “It’s okay.” Because you’re just the same, feeling like you’re about to explode in ecstasy. You melt together, effortless and flowing, whole and light, and so filled with love. It’s terrifying how good this feels. How every thrust, every kiss, and every moan, they satisfy you not only physically, but soulfully and eternally too.

Your fingers are buried in his strands, twirling and pulling at the tufts, earning a soft hum from him that’s lost on your lips as he leans into you. “Eren, I’m–I’m close–”

“Me too–ah–baby, you gotta let go or I'll–”

“It's okay.” Your legs are shaking as you wrap them tighter around his waist, pulling him lower until there’s not an inch of space between your chests. “Come inside me.”

I never want to let you go.

Eren kisses you deep and hard as you crash over with a cry of his name. Hearing and feeling you come apart around him has his hips stuttering and his voice caught. He follows soon after, his fingers clawing against the sheets as he rides the rush of pleasure. The erratic movements of his hips turn lazy, uncoordinated, and he lets out the softest of giggles when he kisses you again. “I’m so happy I could die,” you hear him say and they match the words you’ve been saying in the back of your mind.

“Me too.” You pull his hair off his forehead and tilt his face toward you to view him as best as you can in the dimness of your room. He’s trapped in a haze, lost himself even more in the depth of your eyes. He’s about to taste your lips again when you whisper, “Welcome home, Ren…”

Eren pauses, his blush smearing fast from his cheeks to the tip of his ears. His face contorts as though he’s struggling not to cry again. “I’m home,” he murmurs back, his lips beautifully dawning into a smile. He gently swats your hair out of your face, his gaze softens as he rakes his eyes all over your features. There are so many things to say, and he wonders if he has the time to say them all. Even if he does, will words suffice? Will they be enough to describe the things you make him feel? How complete, how infinite, how every bit of his soul is burned with a fierce joy that he’s never felt before–will his words ever be enough?

No, they won’t.

“Eren?” You incline your head, frowning. “Is there something wrong?”

Maybe someday, he’ll find them. The words that are beautiful enough to elucidate your divine grace and this profound happiness that you shroud him with. And when he says them, they won’t just be sentences to sway your heart. They will be a string of vows, and he wants the world to hear them. He wants his Lord to stand as his witness.

Until then…

“I have a question I’ve been wanting to ask you for years,” Eren says, intertwining your fingers together. “Even after we broke up, I kept thinking about it. In my head, there was only you. I would never be able–no, I would never want to ask anyone else. It has to be you. And maybe this isn’t the perfect time to do this but I just–I feel like my heart is about to burst if I don’t ask you now.”

You search his eyes, wanting to catch a clue and when you fail, you turn tense. “What is it?”

Truthfully, he feels just as nervous as you are. If you are anxious by the thought of his question, he’s terrified of how your answer would be. Even so, he decides to risk it all.

His lips dance on your knuckles before he pulls away to call upon your name. He peppers the sweetest of kisses slowly, deliberately to your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. And when he speaks, you can feel his words and his smile blooming on your skin.

“Will you marry me?”

***

AN: Finally, it's out! Sorry for the long wait, I was having the hardest time trying to finish this one. I'm not really proud of this but I really hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading and let me know what you think ❤️ Massive thanks to Sandra who beta-ed this for me, you're the real MVP, babe, I love you!

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