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sugrhigh · 2 months

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BOY NEXT DOOR 3 - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, a bit of drinking

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: part three baby here we go! hope you guys enjoy!! if i forgot a tag it either wouldn’t let me or i missed it (if i missed u pls comment and i’ll fix it right up). anyways kisses for u all i hope ur having a good day, my inbox is open for anything as always MWAH

@cutenote @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @l9vesick @bb-1s-blog @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @annamcdonalds67 @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @rainyenthusiastdaze @heartz4chris @sturnvvz @cupidsword @wurlibydominicfike @mattswrld @yoursopretty15 @poopydroopt @latinasforchrizz @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner

it’s been a day since the kiss, and you still haven’t told a single soul. for some reason, you’re way too scared to admit what happened to your roommates, even though you know they’d be the last to judge you for it.

and yet you just can’t, despite the fact that it’s been eating you alive for over twenty-four hours straight. saying it out loud makes it real, so you decided it was best to keep it inside.

however, you still need to give chris his jersey back, which you’ve been neglecting to do because you don’t want to see him.

or maybe because you’re scared.

it’s an involuntary thought, and it makes you angry. there’s nothing to be scared of, because he doesn’t have any power over you.

right?

you grab his jersey off the top of your dresser. it’s all clean, and it still smells like detergent from when you washed it yesterday. you’ve been putting it off all day, and it’s time for that to stop.

the sun is nearly gone, so you head down the stairs, silently thankful that ramona and cassidy are both are both runnings errands as you slip out the front door.

you’re in your comfy clothes, black sweats and baby blue hoodie that you stole from cass, and you’re immediately regretting the fact that you didn’t grab a jacket.

you hurry across the lawn, passing the cars parked in the driveway. there’s an unfamiliar red one at the end, and it almost makes you pause, but the possibility doesn’t fully connect in your mind yet.

so you head up the steps and knock on the door loudly, still very much so a woman on a mission.

it takes a moment, a long moment, before someone comes to open it for you. it’s connor, which is unfortunate, because you really weren’t prepared to speak with anyone besides the one boy you’re actually looking for.

he looks a little confused, but he smiles nonetheless. “what’s up?”

“i’m just, uh, trying to drop off chris’s jersey.” any bit of confidence you had is gone now as you choke on your words.

connor’s eyes widen a little as his grin fades, though you can tell he’s trying to play it off. “he’s a little busy right now, but i’ll get it to him.”

your eyebrows furrow as he reaches his arms out, like he’s trying to rush the process along without any more interrogation.

“busy with what?” you question, though you hand it over regardless.

he looks at you for just a half a second too long, like he’s waiting for you to piece it together, and then it clicks. chris is busy because he has a girl over, and that’s her car in the driveway.

you wish it didn’t phase you, but you can feel your face morphing into an emotion that borders disgust and anger.

“oh, i see.” is all you say, because you’re already fucking embarrassed beyond belief.

you turn and head back down the stairs, trying to ignore the way your stomach is flipping like you’re going to throw up.

connor doesn’t say anything. instead you hear the door close, and you feel completely numb as you walk back to your own porch. part of it is because of the cold, and part of it is because you feel so stupid.

you’re not sure what you were expecting, but that was exactly what you should’ve anticipated knowing chris.

you step back into the warmth of your own home, and even when you close and lock the door, a shiver chases you.

you head back up to your bedroom, kicking your shoes off by the door. you want further confirmation, so you peek through the curtains that hang over your window.

chris’s room, which is coincidentally directly across from yours, reveals nothing besides a dim light that peeks through the closed blinds.

you let the drapes fall back into place, still in shock. it was so ridiculous to believe for even a second that he was any different than he had been for the last six months.

you should’ve taken him at his word. he doesn’t date, and he’s not interested in you beyond teasing you or making you look like an idiot.

and you refuse to be taken for a fool.

you pace along the floor for a second until you decide you deserve some wine. you know there’s at least half a bottle in the fridge, and maybe it’ll help you calm the hell down.

a few minutes later you’re back upstairs, huddled up in your bed with a book you had started earlier in the day, sipping from your glass as you read.

it’s hard to fall into the fantasy world you picked out at first, but then you begin to feel your cheeks flush and your eyes are suddenly devouring the words.

you’re so enveloped in the plot, completely unaware that your roommates had gotten home until ramona walks in. it startles you, so much so that you lose your page.

she pauses to take in your state; the empty glass, the minimal leftovers in the bottle you brought with you, your red face.

“wine before 7 p.m. on the lord’s day? you’re crazy.” she jokes with a grin.

you shrug, also smiling a little bit. “felt like getting a little wild.”

mona puts a hand on her hip and nods toward the door she just entered through. “well, could i maybe convince you to take this crazy train downstairs so we can catch up on VPR? we’re like, three episodes behind now.”

you snap your book closed and roll out of bed, which you can tell by her snort looks far from graceful.

“all you had to say was VPR.”

you sit at your desk, gnawing on your bottom lip as you try to focus on the stupid online homework prompts that are due soon. the overcast afternoon light pours into your room, and you hear your phone buzz against the wood.

chris

still playing hard to get?

you roll your eyes before you can help it. the text doesn’t surprise you, because he’s been messaging you for the past few days, ever since he inevitably found out you stopped by from connor.

chris

that’s clearly a yes.

you wonder how many times he’s going to text you as you put your phone down to pull your hair out of your face, tying it up at the back of your head.

once again, you hear the device vibrate, and you flip it to glance at the screen.

chris

i can see you ignoring me you know

your eyes betray you as you glance out the window, just to find chris standing in front of his own. he’s pouting at you with his phone in his hand, hair all curly and damp like he just got out of the shower.

you stand up from your chair without a second thought and take a few steps so you can yank your curtains closed.

he might refuse to believe it, but you’re not playing hard to get. you just can’t fucking stand him.

chris

now that’s just cold

come onnnnnn princess

y/n

holy shit

do NOT call me princess

chris

you love it

y/n

i hate you

chris

if you don’t stop this i’m coming over there

y/n

i’d like to see you try asshole

chris

fine.

you pull back one curtain to call his bluff, and your heart actually drops when you see that he’s not standing there anymore. that just means he’s probably on his way over already.

you have no idea if cass or ramona are home or in their rooms or what. but you do know that you’re locking your door, and if he makes it through the house undetected he’s not getting into your room.

you sit on the edge of your bed for a moment, waiting because you don’t know what else to do with yourself. and then the knock comes, right before chris twists the handle and finds it locked.

“open up.” he demands, his gruff voice muffled through the door.

“no.”

“i’ll go downstairs and get cass if you don’t let me in.” he threatens, which doesn’t really scare you.

cassidy will kick his ass out if she realizes you don’t want him here. you’ll have to explain some things, but it’s probably time to do that anyways.

“you’re being a baby and you’re wasting your time. go home, chris.” you reiterate.

“come on, i just want to talk.” he wiggles the handle once again, like that will somehow open it.

“then call a sex addiction helpline.” you reply hotly, glaring at the slab of wood that separates you as if you can actually see him, though you’re glad you can’t.

“can you please open the door?”

“nope.”

“jesus, you’re so stubborn it’s ridiculous.” he groans, and you hear his forehead thump against the door.

he’s growing frustrated now, and even though you’re heated too, you kind of love it.

“so are you! how many times do i have to tell you to leave?” you shoot back.

it’s silent for a moment, which scares you. then you hear a small sigh.

“i didn’t think i would have to do this.”

the lock on the door begins to twist and turn rapidly, and you leap forward to grab it with your hand.

chris twists it hard and your fingers fumble to keep it jammed. your thumb is already in pain, and the harder he pushes the closer you are to failing. you’re finally forced to let go as chris comes shoving his way into your room a few seconds later.

even though he stumbles slightly, he looks so proud of himself, clutching the heavy duty paper clip he used to get inside.

“there, that’s better.” he says smugly.

you watch his eyes take in your room, covered in posters and full of random artifacts, and you hate it. for some reason, it feels deeply personal.

“holy shit, why don’t you just go home already?”

it’s impossible to keep your tone level anymore as you turn away from him.

“i’m here now, so you have to talk to me.”

“no, i really don’t.” you reply before plopping down onto your mattress, crossing your arms as you lean against the headboard.

“don’t be a brat.” chris follows your lead, even though you weren’t inviting him to join you.

he falls beside you, sprawling out on his back by your feet. his shirt raises over his sweats, exposing a bit of skin above the band of his boxers, and you have to tear your eyes away.

you can feel the warmth of his body, can smell his aftershave mixed with hints of some kind of fresh body wash, and all of it drives you crazy.

you curl your body into itself so there’s as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“why are you so mad?” chris turns his head slightly so he can look at you.

“i’m not mad, you just disgust me.”

this makes him smile. “i beg to differ, i think you like me.”

without hesitation, you extend one leg to kick him in his side. even though it’s not very forceful, he lets out a little groan of surprise, hand going to rub his hip as he frowns.

“you didn’t have to kick me, damn.”

“you deserved that.” you argue, tucking your knees back to your chest.

this time he stays silent and just looks at you. his eyes scan your face, darting down to your lips every other second, and you’re suddenly very aware of your surroundings.

“what the fuck are you staring at?” you ask in a brief moment of panic.

his eyes are so unnerving. it’s like he can see right through you.

“you’re pretty.” chris shrugs before averting his gaze back to the ceiling.

your face flushes, and you force yourself to remember the embarrassment from the other day, how stupid you felt after discovering that he’s still the same old player that sits beside you now.

“shouldn’t you be giving some other girl an STD or something?” you snap, and he huffs out a breathy laugh.

“first of all, i’m totally clean. and if you’d actually let me explain, you’d realize the girl that was over on sunday is just an ex fling who was picking up some old stuff.”

his clarification shocks you, though you still don’t necessarily believe it yet. he could be lying, even though it doesn’t seem like he is.

“you’re seriously telling me you weren’t hooking up with her?” you ask.

“it was strictly platonic. nothing happened.” he confirms, shifting to face you again.

chris lifts his hand to trace gentle patterns along your shins, and you don’t shy away this time. the feeling of his palms, even when separated by your leggings, is far nicer than you imagined.

“okay.” you mutter simply.

“you’ve been ignoring me the entire week and all i get is an ‘okay’?” he halts his movements so he can curl his fingers into air quotes.

“what would you like me to say?”

“an apology would be a nice start.”

you bark out a laugh. “an apology for what? for not talking to you? because i really didn’t take you for the sensitive type.”

he just shakes his head, nudging your legs with one of his knuckles lightly. “god, you and that headstrong attitude will be the death of me.”

“can’t wait.” you quip back, and now its his turn to chuckle.

silence settles over the two of you for a moment, and you’ve been far too close for too long, so you move to stand once again.

“alright, well, we talked. time for you to get lost.” you motion toward the door.

chris sits up, running a hand through his messy hair before he replies. “look, we don’t have another game until sunday, so we’re hosting at the house tomorrow. you should come.”

you raise an eyebrow and tap your chin, like you’re really contemplating. “i’ll have to think about it.”

“please? it’ll only be fun if you go.” he flashes you a charming smile, and you hate that it actually does kind of work.

“maybe i’ll make a special appearance. maybe.” you point a wary finger at him as he gets back on his feet.

“that’s what i like to hear.” chris says, making his way toward you.

you expect him to pass right by, but he lingers, like there’s something else on his mind. he stares down at you with those big blue eyes, and you can feel yourself slipping into dangerous territory.

“is there something else?” you ask softly, and the sound of your voice is maddening to him.

you don’t even try to tempt chris on purpose, he knows this, and yet everything about you is so enticing. not to mention he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss since it happened, or that pretty little mouth of yours.

but he shakes his head again, because the things he’s thinking about you so early on in this strange relationship frighten him.

“uh, no, sorry. i’ll see you tomorrow, hopefully.”

and then he blows right by you without waiting for a response, disappearing just as quickly as he arrived.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #hockey!chris #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #fanfic #new series #sturniolo fanfic

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gukkie01 · 1 year

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Pair: Racer! Jungkook x Police officer! Fem reader

Rating/Genre: 18+, smut (little to no plot), humour (I tried but failed again 😐)

Words count: 5 649

Warning: explicit content, oral sex (F receiving), semi-public sex (I guess??), penetrative sex, vaginal sex, jungkook is a very very hot racer, fingering, car sex, sassy Y/n, dirty talking, unprotected sex (pls don’t be dumb like them)

Summary: Y/n was starting to get bored of being a police officer. She needed the thrill. Thank god, Jeon Jungkook was there to help her.

Note: very much liked writing this one. It was inspired by a book I read on wattpad (that I forgot the name of :/) but I switched the roles and decided Y/n was going to be the police officer 👍. Hope you guys enjoy this one! Sorry for any typos :(

💞 quick little reminder that comments and likes are appreciated 🥹. Enjoy! 💞

Can’t Catch Me

Being a police officer was not your dream anymore. For the solemn reasons that it was boring as hell. Nothing like in the movies. There weren’t any arresting criminals and interfering in mafia cartels and saving the day.

No. It was sorting documents and sometimes, if you were lucky enough, arresting cars. But where was the thrill in that? The excitement?

Sitting down behind a desk clearly wasn’t saving anyone or helping in that case. It was just making phone calls, watching some people here and then to make sure they didn’t leave. You never had to interrogate anyone. You didn’t even have your opportunity at playing the mean cop!

Because there was no doubt that you would’ve been the mean cop. You let no one step over you or cross any boundaries.

So yeah, being a cop or police officer if you would, was not thrilling at all. It was a shitty job that paid just enough so you could survive the month. Just enough. In the end, you always had to ask yourself if it was even worth it. And most of the time, your answer ended up being no, not at all.

Your superior was not even—

Speaking of, you suddenly received a phone call from him. Picking up, you cleared your throat, trying to sound as professional and calm and cool as possible. “Y/n,” he said and shifted a little. “I need you in my office. Now.” He ended the call, not giving the slightest bit of details.

But you were used to that. Didn’t make it less annoying though.

With an exasperated sigh that earned a few amused glares from your coworkers, you got up and made your way to your boss’s office down a little hall. Three knocks and a barely audible ‘come in’ later, you were sitting down in front of him, Mr. Kang or Monkey Face as you liked to call him.

“Yes sir?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow and shifting to the edge of your chair. Were you in trouble? You couldn’t see how that was possible. How could sitting all day bring you in trouble?

Monkey Face, without once letting his eyes divert from his laptop, clicked his tongue. “I’m assigning you to a new route,” was all he said, typing away on his laptop and munching on his gum a little too loudly for your taste.

“What? Where?” The idea of finally leaving this hell of a place brought interest into your features as you wiggled more on the edge of your chair. It was embarrassing really. It wasn’t like you were arresting criminals but at least, you were going to be outside, arresting cars.

Give or take. And you decided to take.

“Route 30. You can go now.”

So, apparently, route 30 ended up being more of a stretch of highway rather than an actual route. By the time the moon set, you saw two cars, and they were exasperatedly slow. But there was no one else behind so you let it pass.

You were sitting inside your car, radio playing but you paid it no mind. It was just nice having some background noises that stopped you from falling asleep although let’s just say it wasn’t doing its job right.

When you glanced outside, the sky was pitch black; no stars, no moon. It was like someone purposely painted it black. It made the outside much darker and duller.

You sighed and decided to exit your car. Take some fresh air. You stood outside, kicking rocks with your boots and after some time, you even started playing soccer against yourself.

But you quickly got bored once again.

It turned out that being assigned to patrol a road was worse than you thought. Sitting in your car, switching the radio multiple times until you’d get so frustrated you would just shut it.

At one point, you got so bored you were on the verge of tears. Which was pathetic but true.

You started singing off-tune to a song that you vaguely remembered, singing as loud as you could before that too would become boring.

And that was when the universe heard your wishes.

Your ears perked up at the ramble of an engine, far in the distance but no doubt getting nearer pretty fast. Too fast. With your heart thumping almost loudly, you buckled your seatbelt and waited until the roaring got closer and closer and you finally saw it.

It flew past you so quickly it was like it was never there in the first place. You flicked on your lights as well as your sirens and started the car, following as closely as you could.

It was hard. Whatever car it was surely surpassed your own speed. And if it didn’t slow down any time soon, you’d lose sight of them eventually.

They made a turn to the left so quickly that you almost couldn’t follow. Your car had been on the verge of driving off the road. You weren’t really on the highway anymore but more on a small route hidden by immense trees.

You were breathless and nervous but driving that fast was the biggest thrill of your entire life and it was so liberating.

Finally, the car decelerated soon after, swerving into the side and parking swiftly. With how fast it had initially been going, you were impressed with how smooth it parked. Whoever it was behind the steering wheel, they were clearly experienced.

Slowly, all the while trying not to make a fool of yourself, you pulled up behind the bright neon blue car. You stepped out and approached the vehicul, taking in deep breaths. Be cool, be cool.

You knocked on the window three times before it slid down and goddamn it—

Your heart literally stopped beating for a fraction of a second when your gaze met a pair of doe eyes. Your own trailed lower until it stopped at a particular shiny object on the driver’s face. A lip piercing.

For a moment, you completely forgot what you were here for, too dazed by the same piercing being bitten and played with. You shook your head, regaining your composure. Or more like tried to.

Question number one.

“Do you know how fast you were driving?” You asked, trying to muster the scariest voice you could. His pierced eyebrow raised up and he smiled innocently. He had this little bunny smile that made you giddy despite trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry officer, I wasn’t paying attention.” He was amused. It was clear in the way his eyes twinkled and the mocking tone of his so fucking deep voice. You gulped a lump in your throat, trying with all your might not to look at any of his piercings and maintain your professionalism.

Question number two.

“License and registration?” You managed to ask without stuttering and the driver reached into the glove box compartment and handed you his papers.

You glanced down at them, letting your eyes trail along the information.

Jeon Jungkook. Born September 1st, 1997. He was a year older than you. His hair in the picture of his license was shorter and lighter. More like a soft brown whereas now, it was almost black. You didn’t know why you were even paying attention to that. You didn’t deign a look at his registration papers and gave them back to him.

He arched an eyebrow, clearly finding the whole situation amusing and to his advantage. He must have known just how much he had an effect on you right now.

Your inner thoughts consisted of:

I’m gonna get fired

But he’s so hot, I don’t care

I wish he could take me right here, right now

I am so getting fired.

Jungkook’s smooth husky voice quickly pulled you out of your thoughts. It was kind of funny how your heart dropped at how deep and soft his voice sounded. There was this little witty and sarcastic tone behind it.

“Aren’t you supposed to use these?” He asked, wiggling his license and registration in his hands. It was then that your eyes caught the tattoos hiding every inch of his skin. It was covering a big part of his hands and went up under his sleeve and you found yourself wanting to see more. You needed to see his entire full sleeve tattoo.

You cleared your throat, the air around you thickening by the seconds. You wondered if you were the only one feeling it. The tension. The want. The desire. Maybe it was only your brain playing tricks on you. Telling you that Jungkook’s eyes definitely trailed down your body, mentally undressing you.

Yeah, your mind was clearly playing tricks. Maybe it was his little grin tugging at the corner of his lips or his sweet cologne that made your brain alter like that. Surely, he had done something to you.

After a couple of seconds, you realized you still hadn’t answered him. You straightened up, flattening your hand on the top of his car, glancing down at him with what you hoped was your most serious glare. “I’ll let you off with a warning, Jungkook.” It was a little strange saying his name out loud, but you quickly found out that you liked it. A lot.

“But I better not see you here again or it’s a ticket,” you continued and saw his smile widening.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ok, your mind was definitely going a little crazy. You had just seen Jungkook sending a little wink your way. You probably imagined it. Yeah, it was all your brain.

He gave a little nod and started his engine once again. It roared loud and hoarsely and you had to admit that it was nice to the ears. You took a step back and watched as Jungkook drove away, ignoring your words from mere moments ago and going fast.

You clicked your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

You had told Jungkook to never come back here but deep inside, you wished to see him again.

A week later, the job didn’t get better. If possible, it probably got worse. You hadn’t arrested one single car yet and all you did was sleep in your car. You knew that if your boss found out, he’d surely fire you and it would be over. He was paying you to work, not sleep. That would be his words.

You sighed for the millionth time this afternoon, whistling along the song playing on the radio. The sun wasn’t bright today. Your mood was down.

The radio was on as per usual and you could hear some of your coworkers communicating with each other, wishing you could do the same. You had nothing to say, nothing to warn. Today was pretty boring.

But then again, someone seemed to have heard you and a loud roar could be heard at the far end of the highway. Your heart thumped loudly and you felt your chest vibrate. Finally. You felt a smile curve up your lips as you turned your car on just as a vehicle flashed before your eyes.

You quickly drove away from behind the small bushes you were once parked at and started your pursuit. But it was quickly over. The car parked on the side road after a short while and you did the same a couple of meters behind. You stood outside your car, looking around quickly before jogging and knocking against the tinted window.

“Do you know how— Jesus! You?”

Fucking hell. Of course it was him. Jeon Jungkook. You should have known by the unique rambling of his motor and at the speed he went earlier. You should have known since the start. This job was seriously making you lose some brain cells.

Jungkook grinned. It was a little devilish and teasing and smug. He leaned on the inside of his door, looking up at you. Fuck. He had dimples.

“Hi to you too, officer…” his eyes trailed down to your badge, “Y/n.” The way your name rolled off his tongue so well made you shiver. His voice had gone an octave lower. It had that little rasp to it that almost made you drool. You secretly wished you could hear it right to your ears.

Just the thought of it gave you goosebumps.

“Jungkook, it’s the second time I catch you exceeding the speed limit. I have no other choice but to give you a ticket this time.”

You didn’t really want to. If you could, you’d let him off with another warning that would actually never get anywhere. He was too pretty to have a ticket. Too fucking perfect.

Jungkook’s wicked grin didn’t falter once even after your words. If it made sense, it seemed to only get wider. Was he finding this entire situation funny? It made your blood slightly boil. You felt like you were getting laughed at. Humiliated maybe. But there was also this little feeling, this tightness at the pit of your stomach when Jungkook got closer.

His cologne hit your strong and gosh, you wanted to breathe it forever. Bath in it. It smelled so good on him.

“Is there a way I could pay? I don’t have money right now.” His tone was suggestive and it took you a while before you got the proper meaning behind his words. And to say that you were shook was an understatement. You choked on nothing, face flushed and so warm, it was embarrassing.

Jungkook didn’t miss the way you suddenly avoided even looking at him, focusing on his steering wheel instead. You heard a low chuckle that shouldn’t have sounded this good. It shouldn’t have made your knees slightly fold.

Jungkook was an attractive man. You couldn’t deny it and it was pretty hard to miss. It was also hard not to stare at his piercings, at his pink lips that looked so soft or at the tattoos that were much more visible than last time. They peeked from his white top and reached the middle of his neck. They were simply magnificent. You wanted to let your fingers run along each of his tattoos.

But even with his fucking god-like appearance, you had to stop yourself from even thinking of further things about him. It was not professional to let your brain wander at these places.

So, in other words, you were a little too close to taking his offer.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have a week to pay, so if you don’t have the money on you right now, it’s no worries.” You replied, mentally high-fiving yourself for keeping your cool.

Jungkook shifted closer, and the tip of his index grazed your arm. It was covered with your uniform but it still sent a wave of fire through your entire body. “But I would really like to pay now. I have something better than money.”

Shit.

Fuck.

No, no no.

He shouldn’t have said that. You were on the verge of saying ‘yes’. On the verge of letting him take you right here, in the middle of the highway. His words were very powerful and from the way his eyebrow arched, he knew it.

“Do you know what you’re implying right now, Jeon?”

Something in his eyes twinkled when you said his last name. He smirked. Literally smirked. “I know that very well, officer. So, what do you say?”

Oh my god.

You couldn’t say yes, even with how much your heart—or more like your cunt— begged for you to accept his offer. But that would only bring you trouble. You didn’t need that.

“I say we’re going straight to the station, Jungkook. Come out.” His smug expression dropped for a moment, and you saw how disappointed he was. Maybe he thought that his sexiness and his pretty voice and pretty tattoos and piercings would have saved him, and it almost did. But you had to remember that you were the mean cop.

He sighed and opened his door, standing up in front of you.

You breath hitched when you realized how easily he was towering over you. He looked so intimidating from this angle, you almost dropped to your knees. It was then that you realized he was wearing a white top that was so tight you saw the entire shape of his pecs. He had a racer vest on top—blue with black lines and his name written on the back.

He looked at you for a second, toying with his lip piercing before eventually turning around and putting his hands behind his back.

“You know officer, it seemed like you were ready to take my offer. What made you change your mind?” So cocky. His ego was so big and normally it would piss you off, but with Jungkook, it was almost like a part of his charm.

“Stop talking,” you ordered in your most stern voice although it only made him chuckle. You unclipped the handcuffs from your uniform, ready to wrap them around his wrists.

“So bossy. I like it.” You swallowed on nothing over and over again, losing focus. The more he talked, the more you were overthinking. You wanted to push him in his car and let him fuck you.

“Jungkook, I said stop talking.”

“You like having control, hm? I bet you’d love to control me, even for just a few minutes…” And then, well, you kind of snapped.

You handcuffed his wrists together harshly, your fast movements making him take a sharp breath. You turned him around, slightly pinning him to his car door. “I told you to stop talking. You’re only bringing yourself further into trouble,” your voice was simply a mere whisper directed to his face. Jungkook bit his lips, bowing his upper body to reach your level.

“One thing you should know: I love trouble,” he said and his voice was suave and smooth and warm on the side of your face. His knee touched your crotch and he pushed it between your legs. You sucked in a long breath and let out a muffled moan.

Well shit. You were doomed. Because now, you couldn’t stop thinking about how his knee felt so good pressed against your pussy and how much his cock would be even better.

“Seems like you’re enjoying yourself,” he commented, looking down at your lower half grinding on his knees. He pushed it up more and added some pressure to your core. You were wet. Wetter than you’d been in a while and all because of a little asshole named Jungkook. He had his proud face on, enjoying the way your face darkened in a deep shade of pink and the way you obviously shook. He knew you wanted to go further.

“Remove those handcuffs, sweetie.” He said suddenly and his face was dark, serious and so dominant. You really couldn’t say no to that face.

So you nodded, taking out a key from your front pocket, fumbling with it clumsily until the handcuffs were off and Jungkook’s hands found their way on your waist.

He didn’t wrap his arms around you. He simply let you feel his hands for a while, getting used to the burning feeling they left even on top of your entire uniform. It tickled as if he touched you straight through your clothes, right on your skin. Thinking about it, you were dying for some skin to skin contact. To touch his tattoos while he was pleasing you.

Jungkook’s eyes were staring straight into yours. You knew right then that he had been thinking about that moment for a while now and to say that it turned you on was an understatement.

You cleared your throat, trying to keep eye contact without failing but it was hard. His stare was deep and intense and the way he continually licked his lips made it difficult to keep your eyes up there. They looked so soft.

You briefly wondered how they tasted before Jungkook’s voice interrupted your train of thoughts.

“Are you gonna stare at them longer before you finally kiss me?” You hated how his voice made your inside wiggle and giddy and your heartbeat accelerate.

You hesitated, on the tip of your toes. You were so nervous. And Jungkook seemed to catch in, as with a wide grin, he plunged down, lips crashing against your, and teeth colliding. His cold lip piercing touched the corner of your lips and made you gasp.

He snorted into the kiss, this time, wrapping his arms entirely around your waist and exchanging your positions. You were the one pinned on his car. And quite honestly, you liked this position way more.

“I’ve been waiting to do that since the moment you knocked on my window.” His sudden confession stole the air out of you. Just like you, he had been waiting to touch you and feel you up.

Fucking butterflies. You hated how they swam in your stomach and made it difficult to keep up with the kissing without feeling like you would pass out. Jungkook was a good kisser. Scratch that, he was fucking amazing. He moved his lips with expertise against yours.

You guys weren’t really taking your time but you still enjoyed it very much. They way it was heated and impatient and filled with want made it all the more exciting.

You wanted him so bad.

“Let’s take this further in the car, hm?” He mumbled against your lips, struggling to open the car in the position you were both in, but after a while, you were swiftly thrown in the back seat.

Jungkook hovered over you like a scary predator ready to attack and eat its prey. And you were very glad to be his prey.

His right hand lifted up and stopped at your cheek, letting his thumb rub over the softness of your skin. He was in literal awe as he let his eyes trail around every feature of your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Can’t wait to ruin you.”

If it wasn’t hot enough, it became too much. You were sweating, desperate to get out of your clothes and let the AC of the car wrap around you. And even more desperate to get Jungkook to fuck you.

Jungkook’s rough hands explored every inch of your upper body until he got tired of your clothes. He sat you up and as fast as he could, succeeded in removing the top of your uniform. His eyes twinkled as if he was a kid that just received his favorite toy for his birthday.

You let him touch you everywhere, he squeezed and massaged your breast until you were whimpering. He pinched your nipples, earning multiple cries from you. He seemed to love every second of it, considering the smile—worth probably a million of dollars—plastered on his face.

He didn’t linger on your breasts too much, though. You could see in the way his fingers always found themselves at the waistband of your pants, that he was more excited about what was down there.

He looked up at you, stopping his hands that were ready to slip off the last item of clothing (except your panties) covering your body.

“Can I remove them?” He asked and it warmed your heart that he remembered to ask you before going any further. You gave him a shy nod and kept in your breath when the cold air hit your lower body, more specifically, your inner thighs.

Jungkook’s hands covered your skin almost immediately. His nails slightly scratched your skin as he ran his fingers up and down your entire legs. But his eyes were stuck on the wet patch on your panties.

“Aren’t you a little excited, huh? Soaked even when I barely even started.”

You moaned. It was a small moan that was more due to your embarrassment and your need for him to touch you, combined together.

It was music to Jungkook’s ears.

He let his finger push on your clothed core, breathing in loudly when he felt the dampness. And then he slipped his fingers in your panties without any second thoughts or any warning.

He settled on rubbing his middle finger on your clit, looking up every now and then at the way your face contorted in pleasure. You were moaning continuously, asking him for more but he wouldn’t give it.

Jungkook loved teasing you and even though you barely knew him at all, that information was pretty obvious from the way he enjoyed slipping in snarky little remarks from the first moment you saw him. He loved how your face became red instantly, how you avoided his eyes. He felt so confident around you.

You liked the tease. You liked feeling on edge every time his fingers almost entered your pussy but then he’d move them away.

“Be patient, babe. You’ll get what you want soon enough.”

Babe. You wanted to hear him say that again on repeat.

“Jungkook,” you mumbled with closed eyes, internally screaming when he avoided your hole again, “I need more. Please.”

He chuckled, stopping the motion of his fingers. “Look at you begging for me. I should have known you’d be an impatient little slut.”

You whined at his choice of words. Dirty talking never failed in turning you on, although it was clear that it depended from who.

And it seemed to fit Jungkook very well.

“Please,” you asked again, not even caring how pathetic you sounded.

“Aw, you’re asking so nicely.” He slipped one finger in and you involuntarily arched your back. “So good for me, so tight too.” Another finger. “Are you gonna come from just my fingers?” A third digit, this time, curling inside.

The stretch hurted a bit. But it was good. It felt so amazing. It only added onto the pleasure and after a while, it wasn’t even uncomfortable anymore.

Jungkook’s eyes were plastered on your pussy and the way you swallowed his fingers so well. You were so wet, it dripped down your inner thighs. He kept biting and licking his lips, moving his head down by the seconds.

And then you understood what he wanted to do so bad. He wanted to eat you out.

“Do it,” you told him, wiggling and pushing yourself closer to him, his fingers hitting a particular spot that had a little yelp come out of you.

“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows, slowing down his fingers. You straightened up a little bit and took his wrist, pulling his three digits out of you. “I know what you wanna do. Eat me out. Please.”

He swallowed and nodded, pushing you further in the back seat and against the door. He properly positioned himself between your legs, tapping on your right thigh. “Open up,” he signaled, pulling them even more apart until you were wide open in front of him.

He licked his lips and plunged his head right in your crotch. Locks of his hair fell on your thighs, tickling you and making shivers run up your entire body. And then his tongue touched you. So warm. So soft. So pleasurable.

He licked the lips at first before slipping his tongue inside, grunting. He had mumbled something but with his face between your legs, the words came out muffled and unclear.

“Fuck, it’s so fucking good. Please don’t stop.” He dug his fingers in your thighs to keep them apart. He thrusted his tongue in and out of your cunt, sometimes, keeping it in deep, filling up all the right places, grazing all the right spots until you were wiggling, and legs wrapping around his face, bucking your head up.

He let you do it. Let you suffocate his face until your juice rolled down his mouth and he pulled himself away. White liquid covered his lips and something in your belly tightened at the sight.

It was so obscene but so hot. You pulled him by his vest to smash your lips on his and taste yourself. He slipped off his vest in the process, tearing down his top and struggling out of his black baggy pants, his boots already off.

He was left in those Calvin Klein sinful briefs that allowed you to see is bulge and fuck, he was big. Perfect length and thickness and that had you drooling literally. You wanted to touch every inch of his body. He was perfectly sculpted.

“I’m gonna fill you up so good, babe. Can’t wait to fuck you into oblivion.” He whispered in your ear and let you remove his boxers until his cock sprung free and stood proudly.

You were astonished and couldn’t tear your eyes away. You were never one to find dicks beautiful, but with Jungkook, you could stare at it and a suck it all day.

But not right now. There were more important matters. Like your desperation to have his cock fuck you.

“Jungkook, I need it inside. Please.”

Jungkook couldn’t get enough of your begging. He wanted to go as far as recording it and jerking himself off at night.

He aligned himself right in front of your entrance and looked up at you. “Are you okay? I really want to fuck the shit out of you but if you changed your mind—“

You cut him off with your finger, grinning at him. “I’ve never wanted something more in my entire life. So please, do it already.” Jungkook’s face brightened up at your response. He liked how you had shut him up and ordered him.

You pushed yourself against his cock just as he began slipping it in slowly, groaning and snuggling his face in the crook of your neck, biting right under your jaw.

“Oh my fucking god, I won’t last long,” he mumbled, sucking in multiple sharp breaths. One of his hands was holding himself beside your head and the other was wrapped around you, securing you in his grasp.

When Jungkook was fully in, he stayed still for a couple of seconds, enjoying the way your walls were so warm and perfectly wrapped around his cock. But then, he slowly slipped out until the head of his dick was at your rim and slammed back in. “Oh fuck—”. You bucked your hips up, meeting his thrust and letting out a scraped moan along with Jungkook’s groan.

“If I knew it was this good,” you started but cut yourself off when he picked up his pace, squeezing your flesh, “I would’ve accepted your offer from the beginning.”

He chuckled, looking down attentively as his cock disappeared in and out of your pussy, being soaked with your slick. It was warm and it drove Jungkook crazy. He wanted to stay inside forever.

“Well, I wanted to fuck you the moment I laid my eyes on you,” he admitted and slowed down his thrusts.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion until Jungkook flipped you over and you were straddling him. From this position, everything felt so different. He felt so much deeper, as if you could feel him with your hands if you touched your belly.

He gripped your hips tightly to the point when it almost hurted and glanced up at you. “Ride me like the naughty little slut you are, hm?” His voice was so hoarse compared to earlier, and so much more seductive and his sinful words rolled off his tongue in a way you found so satisfying.

You nodded and wrapped your hands around his neck. As you bounced up and down, your breasts followed the rhythm and they were practically jumping in Jungkook’s face, basically calling out to him to suck on them.

Which he ended up doing, letting go of your hips and licking, biting and squeezing the sensitive skin of your chest. He marked your entire cleavage until he was happy at how dark and red it looked.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, earning a strangle moan out of you two and then a moan from Jungkook when you clenched again.

“Is my little slut already so close?”

“Y-yes. It’s so good, I can’t hold it in much longer.” His hands grasped your waist and slid you down his cock until it was buried so deep, you couldn’t find the voice in you to make a sound. He was fucking you so well.

“You’re taking my cock like a good girl. I think you deserve to come.” He mumbled, moving his head closer to yours and nibbling on your bottom lip.

“Please, Jungkook. I want to come so bad. Please please.”

“Fuck, begging like that, I don’t think I can last longer too.”

His words made you keep going, bouncing on his length over and over again to the point where you reached some overstimulation, shaking violently in his arms.

Your voice was loud and the only word that was heard was Jungkook Jungkook Jungkook.

Your cum ran down his length, to his thighs and made his skin glisten in white. Your head was dizzy and your eyes hazed as you glanced down at Jungkook. Your stomach kept tightening every time he moved his hips upward.

He came no longer after, slamming you down his cock and keeping you there for a long moment, moaning how good you were and how hot you looked.

You leaned on his chest after a moment, catching your breath although it proved to be a difficult task. Your lungs felt empty, devoid of any air. But it was fine because you had just been fucked by Jeon Jungkook. And it was the best sex of your life.

After Jungkook regained his composure, he wrapped his arms around you and looked up. One of your hands was running along his tattoos and the other was busy, combed in his sticky hair. Jungkook was a fucking piece of art.

“So,” he started, pushing a few locks of hair away from your face, “Do I still need to pay for that ticket?”

“Heck yeah.”

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winterchimez · 9 months

Text

Teach Me How To Love | Kim Sunwoo

summary: the campus heartthrob whom you've had a crush on for the longest time finally asks you out on a date. since you have never been on a date before, you decided to elicit the help of your best friend, Kim Sunwoo, for some romantic advice.

pairing: f!ckboy Sunwoo x g.n!reader

genre: suggestive

warnings: kissing, making out with the one and only Kim Sunwoo

word count: 2,251

a/n: this is... umm yeah. (i'm still learning and new to writing suggestive so pls bear with me lmao 😭)

"He asked me out."

"Asked who now?"

"He asked me out, Yuna!!" You grabbed the shoulders of your best friend, shaking them vigorously.

That was when the sudden realisation hit your friend, and she formed an 'o' from her mouth, knowing whom exactly you were referring to.

You have had the biggest crush on Lee Hyunjae since your freshman year. Of course, who wouldn't be? He is literally the heartthrob of your campus. Everyone, including yourself, would do anything to get the man's attention. Even a smile or the slightest moment he turns straight in your direction works either way.

It wasn't in your third senior year that you got to pair up with the infamous man in one of your science classes. Biology. How fun.

Your lecturer chose you both to be lab partners throughout the semester, and that was when you had a legitimate conversation with the man himself. Oh, how you were so nervous back then, rubbing your palms together almost every minute, ducking your head down because you were too shy to look straight into the man's eyes.

However, his calming and friendly persona broke off that wall between you two almost immediately and little did you know, the both of you hit off as good friends. You both started hanging out casually, even after classes, seemingly bumping into one another in the hallway lockers.

In other words, you were whipped for the man, and when he finally asked you out, you immediately accepted the offer.

If you were like the rest, you would've felt happy, even excited, to be going on a date with your long-time crush. You, on the other hand, felt the opposite. You were panicking, nervous, and terrified of what was to come.

Your friend, Yuna, clearly notices your demeanour and proceeds to interrogate you on what's the matter, and that is when you let out the most inner thoughts of yours that have been bugging you for the longest time.

Clearly, you had zero to no skills on what to do when you're out on your first date. You've seen in hundreds of films and read many rom-com books how holding hands is the least you could do on the first date, to having a passionate kiss if both sides were up for it.

You were stressed out and had to do something to calm your nervousness. That was when a lightbulb dings right in your friend's mind, and she knew precisely the solution to your problem.

"I dare you to elicit some help from Sunwoo."

You paused. Sunwoo? Kim Sunwoo? Your childhood best friend?

You were confused at the beginning as to why she would even bring him up in the first place. But as you connect the dots, the sudden realisation hits you.

Kim Sunwoo. You both have practically grown up together since kindergarten, and you are still neighbours to this day. He was the one friend who has always stood by your side from the start, no matter how messed up or crazy your situation might be. He was also the person you'd always rant to, and he'd be more than happy to comfort you if that meant for you to feel better.

How close were the both of you? Well, close enough that you both have determined that every Friday of the week is a movie night in his apartment that he just recently signed the lease to at the start of the year. You'd both always get the cosiest blankets and drape them over you both while seemingly cuddling with one another to enjoy the films with Sunwoo's handy-dandy mini projector that he bought for a pretty reasonable price on Amazon.

Although there was one problem, your best friend is actually the f!ckboy of the campus.

It did not start out this way, though. Neither of you knew what snapped in Sunwoo's mind. Your only guess was that he was enjoying adulthood to the fullest and getting used to university life. After attending several frat parties, having a little too much to drink and eventually hooking up with so many different women, it was too late for the male to turn back.

You never judged him for that. It was fine by you since he still considers you to be his best friend, and you both technically still hang out with one another once every week.

So being the f!ckboy, he knew all of the necessary basics and tricks on how one should act around their partner, especially on the first date.

Right?

So here you were, standing right outside Sunwoo's apartment door.

You contemplated on even knocking on the door, for you knew it wasn't even a Friday; it was a Tuesday, to be exact. And god knows whoever he is making out with on the other side.

Because as far as you know, he was pretty “active” throughout the week except for the day you get to hang out with him.

You paused. You kept bringing your hand up to the door and then down. Your mind was literally at a tug-of-war at this point.

To do it? Or not to do it.

Eventually, you huffed and returned your hands to the door until it swung open and bumped you on your forehead.

A woman dressed in a periwinkle lace spaghetti strap sleepwear with a grey jacket draped across her shoulders noticed your presence. She immediately got you up on your knees, constantly apologising and asking if you were alright.

You knew that grey jacket. It belonged to Sunwoo. And it was the same exact one that you always got to wear whenever you came over because you liked how it always made you feel warm and comfortable.

But you have to brush the thoughts off immediately. Sunwoo is a f!ckboy for goodness sake, and these things are practically an everyday thing to do for the guy.

Just as you were about to reassure the woman that you were okay, a head popped out of the door, and it was the guy you just had in mind.

"Care to explain the sudden purpose of the visit, my friend?" Sunwoo asks while he makes a warm mug of hot cocoa in the kitchen.

While you sat at the kitchen counter, you contemplated for a while before finally telling him how the campus heartthrob had finally asked you out on the first date.

And how you actually came to elicit his help and advice.

It took a while for Sunwoo to process the message, and he burst out in laughter once he got it. In return, you started throwing daggers through your eyes right at him as you scowled at the man.

"I'm sorry, but this is just too funny for me." He continued laughing while placing the ready-made hot cocoa onto the countertop.

You pout. "And I thought you'd actually help a best friend out."

"Okay, okay, I would do anything for my bestie. So tell me-". He slips right into the chair beside you while plopping one of his arms onto the countertop, resting his face on his palm as he stares deep into your eyes. “What do you exactly need my help with?”

"I don't know. Teach me how to kiss, flirt, and all that jazz, I guess." You shrugged, hoping that he clearly gets the message that you're in dire need of some basic love lessons to please your date.

The man moves a few inches closer to you now, close enough that you feel his breath. He was studying your face intensely as if some sort of dirt or dust was sitting somewhere at the top of your face. He then suddenly backs away immediately, giving you a hesitant look.

"Are you sure, Y/N? That you want to do this?" Sunwoo asked with a serious tone, which was unusual for you since you were used to seeing the goofy side of him. But if he were to ask in such a manner, you knew that he wasn't joking around.

"You do know that if you want me to teach you how to kiss, we literally have to kiss one another, right?"

Oh.

You were new to all of this. Hell, you have never kissed anyone in your entire lifetime. And now, you were about to give your first not to your lover but to your best friend. It all comes down to whether you are willing to do it.

Kissing Sunwoo also meant he would give you an actual physical demonstration of the different ways to kiss or even make out with one another, which may include some physical touches on certain parts of one another's body.

"Yes, Sunwoo. You have my consent." You replied nonchalantly, anticipating whatever move he would put up with you.

But the man was still frozen in his seat, not moving an inch. "I don't know, Y/N. Are you sure this won't, you know, get weird between us? I care a lot about you, and I do not want something like this to ruin the relationship we've built over the years."

You could see where the man was coming from because this was the main reason you were contemplating even stepping into his apartment for this crazy love lesson situation.

However, it was now or never. And if this was all for your first date with your long-term crush, you're down for it.

"Yes. One hundred percent."

Like that, Sunwoo's facial expressions shifted as he licked his plumped lips. He then snakes one of his free arms around your waist as he inches closer.

"Tell me when you want to stop."

Before you knew it, he closed the space between you, and both lips were now against one another.

Holy shit. You are literally kissing your best friend now.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you moved one arm around his neck while the other moved up into his hair.

God, his hair felt so soft.

Sunwoo chuckled between the kisses. "Look at you go, Y/N."

He pulled away briefly, only to whisper in your ear. "I had no idea you tasted this good, baby."

Leaning back in, he began kissing you passionately, and eventually, it became a hot mess. His lips began searching other areas to nibble on, starting from your earlobe and then down to your neck, where he began to suck. In return, you elicit a soft moan which sounded way too sweet to his ears.

You were floating, and damn, did it feel so good.

Sunwoo seemingly slipped one of his hands under your shirt, earning a gasp from you.

"Sunwoo-" You gasped, trying to catch your breath. "Aren't you—supposed to go step-by-step?"

Sunwoo smirked against your jaw as he gently brushed his lips against your soft milky skin. "Baby, sometimes things just go with the flow."

While he rests his face on the crook of your neck, his hands are now down to your thighs, rubbing them gently. "Wrap your legs around my waist, and jump."

You were stunned. "J-jump? What are you even-"

"Trust me, Y/N. I'll catch you if that's what you're worried about."

"You won't drop me, right?"

He chuckled. "Only a fool would drop a person like you."

With your legs wrapped around him, he carries you towards his bedroom, slowly laying you on his bed.

This is dangerous. And this is all so wrong.

You only came to ask for advice on how to kiss your crush, not to have a steamy make-out with your teacher in question, Kim Sunwoo.

But why did all of these feel so good? Why couldn't you say stop? In fact, you wanted more. You wished that all of these would not stop and that you'd be down to continue with the man himself.

So many thoughts were going through your mind as you reminded yourself of the true purpose of your visit, your campus heartthrob. But you knew you are so screwed at this point, and there’s no turning back anymore.

Both of you deepen the kiss, and Sunwoo’s tongue slips right into yours, exploring your mouth. In return, your soft whimpers eventually turned into pleasurable moans to the man himself.

God, Sunwoo. Give me more. Give me-

And then it all came to a halt. Sunwoo backed away, leaving you both to catch your breath as he stood up from his bed.

“I think. We are done for the day.”

Just as you were about to ask him why he even stopped in the first place, you were cut off by the man's quick response, also seemingly turning his flushed face towards the side.

“I’ve taught you more than enough to please your date.” Clearing his throat, he helps you to get back up on your feet.

“Oh- um… yeah. You know, thanks Sunwoo. For everything.”

As he escorts you towards the front door, that familiar soft bubbly smile that you were accustomed to is plastered on his face. “All the best with Hyunjae. I look forward to our next movie night, Y/N.”

“Ye-yeah!! I’ll keep you updated. Good night, Sunwoo.”

As you turned your heel and headed toward your apartment, Sunwoo immediately slammed the door shut once you were out of sight.

His back now rests against the door, and he tries to calm his fast-beating heart down.

It was then he realised that kissing you felt entirely different from all the other women he had ever made out with.

masterlist

taglist: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @flwoie @hokupi @zzoguri @kyusqult @tinkerbell460 @cheonsafics (join my permanent taglist here!)

#deoboyznet #kvanity #k-labels #kflixnet #the boyz #tbz #the boyz x reader #the boyz x imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbz scenarios #sunwoo #kim sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #kim sunwoo x reader #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo scenarios #sunwoo suggestive #the boyz suggestive

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libraryraccoon · 1 month

Note

Ok I request Azrael x archangel gn reader please (romantic pls)

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message from Raccoon : it's honestly a little hard to write for Azrael because we know nothing of him-

You and Azrael have known each other for a long time, before the Earth was created.

You had to watch over Heaven and make sure everything was okay. Azrael often accompanied you in your task because he wanted an excuse to escape the paperwork.

He often tells you what some souls did when they were alive and how they died, like this demon killed by a hunter and dogs because they thought it was a deer.

You got closer, and what was supposed to happen happened.

You start to date him.

Now that was fun.

Do you know what the “50 questions to see if we approve you for dating our brother” archangels/family of Big G version is ?

No because you felt like you were being questioned for a serious crime and not dating their brother.

3 hours.

All right ? 3 hours of suffering an interrogation for a crime that wasn't a crime. In the end, they accepted you, apparently it went pretty quickly because you knew them..

You don't even want to know how long it would have lasted if you didn't know them before dating Azrael.

You and Azrael flying together is canon.

You fly at least once a week, and when you don't people think there's a problem.

Literally you and Azrael might just don't want to fly the week, but people will think you've broken up.

There are always angels to come and find out why you don't fly together, even after you tell them to stop.

Although it also helps a lot, in the sense that when you argue there are always angels to help you resolve the problem.

Personal/private life who ?

You know how Viv sold us Lillith x Lucifer ? Not what it's like on the show, but how she sold it, the loving couple everyone wants ? Yeah. It's you and Azrael.

Azrael always plays jokes on you, and you play jokes on him in return.

I can just see you starting a never ending prank war, you creating new jokes so it never ends.

You created most of humanity's jokes, Big G once asked how you had so much imagination for this sort of thing.

Hugs. So there, three possibilities :

If you are shorter than him then you are the little spoon,

Or you are the same size and always change from small spoon to big spoon depending on your mood,

Or you're taller and he's the little spoon.

The one who makes the big spoon must always put their wings around the other.

Whenever one of you is sad, the other always puts their wings around the one who is sad, because it's just comforting and brings a kind of sense of security.

Gabriel is your number 1 shipper. You can't tell me otherwise, he was literally the one who managed to bring you together in the first place.

Lucifer wondered how his brother managed to find someone, especially since Azrael had never seemed interested in love before.

Michael threatened to kill you if you ever hurt his brother... you didn't feel like it was a threat but more of a warning.

You’re glad he never heard about your little arguments.

Despite your little arguments which are rare, you and Azrael are THAT couple that everyone wants.

I just know that some angels come to ask you how you manage to have such a perfect/good couple.

I can see Azrael being sarcastic, so if you are too, know that you are the threat couple from Heaven.

(Second) Message from Raccoon : Writing for a character that we haven't see/know anything about them is so hard ?? I never suspect it to be that hard tbh.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader #hazbin hotel x male reader #azrael #azrael hazbin hotel #azrael x reader #azrael x gn reader #azrael x male reader

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silkjade · 2 years

Text

genshin men as wedding dates

It’s wedding season and you’ve got a large one coming up. But it’s not just any wedding, it’s a family wedding meaning…extended relatives. Are you going to brave the night out on your own or are you rsvping with a plus one?

Featuring— Kaeya, Diluc, Venti, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao, Thoma

gn!reader, modern au, mentions of alcohol, mostly platonic but implied romantic feelings

Part 1 (here) - Part 2 - Part 3

KAEYA

you guys pregame the wedding

he’s cool, he’s charismatic, he’s definitely the hottest person at the entire event (and he knows it)

makes funny little comments about the family with you; flirty banters all day all night

insists on dancing together and will definitely dip you at some point

gossips with the old ladies (i mean he’s not #1 grandson candidate for nothing right) and tells you everything

drawback is he makes you take photos of him all night and will make you take it again until he likes it! and it’s not just fit pics because he’ll be drinking a glass of wine or eating cake and be like

“wait take a candid of me real quick”

the bride overshot the mark and tossed the bouquet way too far and that’s how he ends up catching the bouquet

“oh? guess we’re next” and then he offers the bouquet to you and kisses your hand

clingyyyyy drunk at the end of the night and spills about how nice it was to be included at a family event, and how grateful he is to you for inviting him

please invite him again to your next family gathering

DILUC

congrats you’ve officially gotten the family flex of the century! bragging rights forever!

picks you up in his fancy car. he’s not planning to drink anyway so he’ll take care of you (but pls drink responsibly he just wants to have a nice night out with you)

you get interrogated upon arrival because is that really the wine tycoon diluc ragnvindr???

will excuse the both of you if he notices you’re getting overwhelmed; diluc’s had his fair share of social events so he does this easily without offending anyone for your sake

“ I said I’d take care of you tonight, didn’t I?”

the flower girl asks him for a dance and he does the thing where he lifts her onto his feet and oops now all the kids at the wedding want a turn à la ross from friends

would’ve been stuck there all night but you’re soft for his ‘help me’ face so you whisk him away and he finally gets to dance with you

a week later you get a link with all the photos from that night and there’s a candid of the two of you where you’re laughing and diluc is looking at you with a soft smile and the most lovestruck look in his eyes

VENTI

if it’s a wedding with an open bar..do you really even have to ask??

on the ride there, he keeps saying he’s got something up his sleeve but doesn’t elaborate further, just “ehe”

turns out he snuck his pet lizard dvalin in via his..you guessed it, sleeve. dvalin escapes some time during the ceremony and neither of you notice because you’re busy whispering little jokes and comments to each other

you guys don’t see dvalin again until the reception when an entire table is screaming

he makes up for it by making the most beautiful, poetic toast to the married couple

someone wanted to film a first drink vs last drink tiktok and it goes viral but all the comments are about venti’s segment (he’s at ‘tie around his head’ level messy)

pukes on you in the uber back and passes out. you have to haul his ass home after the driver sticks you with the cleaning bill. he’s here for a good time not for a long time

CHILDE

wants to make a good impression so he insists on you giving him a who’s who rundown presentation a week before the big day. calls it a battle plan

“that’s your misogynistic cousin right? can I punch him?” “yeah but just do it outside”

HAS to win all the wedding games

it’s his dance floor and we’re just dancing on it

your teen cousins all develop a crush on him because they think he’s the fun spontaneous boyfriend of their dreams

you two take forever in the photobooth; you’re doing cute photos, funny photos, using all the props!! even sneaks a kiss on your cheek! puts his copy in the back of his phone case (he has one of those clear ones)

he's great with the kids at the wedding; and seeing him almost seamlessly blend into your family dynamics makes you feel a little….

everyone keeps asking when you two are getting married and he says hopefully soon <3 (but you aren’t even dating?!)

you’re whatevs about catching the bouquet so he gets competitive about it for you

why is he in all the important family photos

gets a personal invite to the next family gathering and has the audacity to ask you to be his plus one

ZHONGLI

he's that one guest who would randomly be an ordained minister if anything happens

drifts to the oldest people at the wedding and exchanges stories but when he mentions he works as a funeral consultant, they think he's just trying to sell them a funeral package

there are disposable cameras scattered around the tables during the reception and he tries so hard to take a selfie with you. after the photos get developed it's just....blurry..or a bunch of photos of the top of your heads..or one of you is cut out of the frame..or -

the photos he takes of you are very cute though! and he took so many! they’re not the best quality but they have the candid blurry aesthetic™ going on

good at formal dances but is otherwise so stiff. hu tao convinced him it’d be a fun idea to throw it back; he’s never been more embarassed in his life

you think it's adorable but your mean cousin makes a comment and you're about to beat their ass for his honor (to be fair you did hear his bones crack but that’s not the point)

brought tupperware for leftovers from the dessert bar. reminds you to take the centerpiece

XIAO

tbh he wouldn’t even consider it unless you two are very close

says no at first but agrees when you say you'll have to ask someone else

"hmm…do you think venti would want to-" "venti? really? you can’t be serious. I’ll go.”

comes off very cold when you introduce him to everyone; he's very respectful (especially to elders) but he just isn't a very social person

mostly sticks to you and just minds his own business sitting at the table all night but he will defend you if he overhears anyone talking smack about you

one dance and that’s it. it’s a slowdance and he’s looking everywhere except at you. help him he’s nervous

the two of you end up leaving the party for some fresh air and take a walk around the gardens outside the venue

you watch the firework show from your spot in the garden as well. his eyes aren’t on the fireworks though

THOMA

arguably one of, if not the best, candidates to meet family

he definitely wants to match with you!!!

his dashing looks and polite, personable charisma are truly a deadly combination

social butterfly! open to chatting with anyone, he’s sharing recipes and knitting tips and talking about how housework is for everyone… the girls, gays, and theys love him

your aunt tries setting him up with your cousin and wait a minute- what’s that feeling bubbling in your chest..it’s not jealousy is it? after all, you and thoma are just friends

if you get different desserts, he’ll hold out his fork to feed you some of his

“mm! you have to try this — it’s so good!”

kind of a bad dancer but that just adds to his charm; also your personal hype man!!

instagram bf material; he’ll take so many photos of you at so many angles! he just wants a few photos of the two of you together, which the photographer happily obliges

at the end of the night, after all the partying, he sneaks a selfie together of you dozing off on his shoulder and makes it his new lockscreen goodbye taroumaru

Thank you for making it to the end! I had to go to a family friend’s wedding recently by myself and it was…an experience. Anyways! What did you guys think? Do you guys want a part 2 with different characters? This is my first time writing and posting headcanons publicly so please be easy on me 🥹

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austinbutlerslovers · 23 days

Text

Feyd Rautha coming to interrogate like…

[Giving up everything like pls …take me with you]

#feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x #feydrautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd rautha smut #feyd x reader #austin butler #austin butler fandom #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #dune part two

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l0v3tast3 · 1 year

Note

AHH Hello!!! I absolutely love your writing, it’s so good!!!!

I was wondering…

Y/n always wear a mask to conceal her identity, in hopes the 141 doesn’t find out that Makarov is her father!!

141 had captured Makarov for interrogation, and y/n is there. As the interrogation continues, they start to notice that y/n and Makarov know each other, by the subtle little informality they spoke to one another. And the truth starts to come out, little by little!!!!

✎ tysm i love you :(( i absolutely love this idea the angst potential is just *chef's kiss* i'm sorry this one took like over a month to make oops, also i tried to keep personal details abt the reader as vague as possible, pls let me know if there's something i can fix!!

✎ tags: female reader, military reader, major daddy issues, violence, mentions of blood, hurt/barely any comfort if at all, not proofread im too cool for that,

✎ word count: 2,704

the silence in the cold, gray interrogation room was so thick that you were choking on it. you knew you had just fucked up, badly.

you had done so well so far, too. you're fabricated identity had fooled everyone. the name you had chosen stuck, and no one ever noticed your old one threatening to jump from your mouth when you introduced yourself. you always kept the childhood memories and little anecdotes vague. you stuck to your rehearsed lines better than a world-famous actor. you did every single thing right.

and now, here he was, your own blood, fucking it all up for you, again.

technically, he had made you fuck it up for yourself. it was just how makarov worked; he was a spider weaving a web in the corner, watching, waiting. this man, your supposed father, didn't know anything real about you. he didn't know you as a father should know his daughter. but he knew which buttons to press.

he only knew what to say to you when it would allow him the opportunity of watching you fall a little deeper towards rock bottom.

you knew that the room had cameras covering every square inch, and the microphones ensured that you're accidental admission to your heritage was heard by your entire task force.

there was a red hot pit opening inside of you, caving your insides in like a black hole and threatening to consume your entire being. it was rage, you realized. something you only ever seemed to feel in the presence of one person.

you briefly considered killing him, right there and then. was this really the straw that broke your back? it truly was just another thing to add to the list. you had known he would do this.

no, you were angry at yourself.

on the other side of the door, the four men of the 141 task force were all stood still in shock. what the hell did you just say?

none of them wanted to believe it. they especially didn't want to admit that it made sense. you had done a fucking fantastic job of hiding it, they'll admit that, but even you couldn't hide everything.

price saw the way you tensed when you were passed laswell's photo of makarov in the bar, after you had all put an end to hassan's plan. he saw the way you dropped it and slid it to the next person quickly, as if touching the picture had burned your fingertips.

soap had asked you if you were okay more than once during the plane ride to russia. you were so restless, so different from your usual grounded self. you just said you were having some flying anxiety. he felt stupid now for writing it off so easily.

and kyle, the first one to trust you (and to even really talk to you), he had seen the anger sparking off of you while you shot your way through the tower to get to makarov. floor after floor, bullet after bullet, you had paved a path of blood through the mercenaries. he wondered if someone else had taken your mask and gear and was pretending to be you.

simon saw the fear in you when you all got to the last door. you had been so quick in your endeavor to get here, but he saw you hesitate to follow them in. he saw how you never took your wide eyes off of him, and how you stayed a few steps back, moving far out of the way when price began to escort him out in handcuffs.

and when they had asked you to go into the interrogation room, they all saw how you stopped breathing, and the sweat collecting on what little skin they could see above your mask. you had stuttered when you quietly agreed.

when you stepped into the room, makarov took one look at your eyes, and you knew he recognized you. no, he recognized the hatred. and it made him smile.

now, sitting in the cold metal chair, you realized that it wasn't just one mistake, but a series of them; you had let him unravel you, again. you understood, finally, that he saw you as he did everyone else. he saw you as someone that held him back.

part of you had always known, ever since you were young, still single-digits, and he would only visit you once every few months, if that. you had elected to ignore it. now you couldn't.

you couldn't move. behind you was the door that would lead you to the consequences of your actions. in front of you was the reason for those actions.

this is what you had wanted, wasn't it? it was like something snapped back into place, and you suddenly remembered that everything you had done up until now, every time you put the mask on before leaving your room, every lie you had told and every person you had killed had been to get you here. in front of your father. you remembered that the image of him with a bullet between his eyes was what kept you going.

if you killed him, would it finally absolve you? the gun on your hip felt twenty pounds heavier now. your fingers, folded together in your lap with a white-knuckle grip, felt like lead. would this sin make all the other wrongs right?

a tiny voice was telling you to just walk away, let the team's wrath come down on you and let them deal with makarov, but you had already thrown the table between you towards the wall, he was already on the ground with your hands wrapped around his throat.

you were yelling, no, screaming at him. all the compacted feelings from years and years of being as quiet as possible came up like vomit, spewing out in a mess that could never be cleaned up.

there were more than just makarov's hands on you, pushing and pulling you away from him and dragging you out of the room, kicking and screeching to let you just finally kill him, while two other blurry shapes hauled him back into his own chair.

the heavy metal door shut behind the two people practically carrying you, and they finally let you go. you stumbled a few steps away, whirling around for the next target of your fury.

your captain and lieutenant were standing in front of you, both tensed, waiting for you to do something. you couldn't exactly make out their faces- were you crying?

"what in the bloody hell just happened in there?" price snarled. it was the voice he used when he was face to face with his enemy.

"let me back in there." it was a demand. you needed to kill him.

"that's not gonna happen," simon barked. john and kyle had come out from the interrogation room to stand behind the other two men. "you need to explain, now."

they all stared at you with varying looks of anger and hurt. it wasn't the first time you'd ever had it directed at you, but this was somehow worse than all the others.

every cell in your body was shrieking at you to just run for the door, to somehow get through all four of these men, your teammates, your friends, and kill makarov. but their glares glued you to your spot.

"please-" your voice was trembling, years of grief and agony dripping from every word, "please, just let me kill him. you have to let me kill him." you spoke slowly and quietly, focusing on just trying to get the words out. you took a shaky breath and focused your eyes on a muddy bootprint on the floor. you didn't want to see the looks on their faces.

"you don't understand, you just- just let me back in there, please, i'll get whatever you need out of him, but he needs to die!" your voice was getting louder, and you briefly wondered if your father could hear you. "his men are probably already on their way here. don't you get it? if i don't kill him now, he will get out."

the men in front of you were more shocked now than anything at the change in your demeanor. you had been coined the "second ghost" throughout the units, partly for the mask, but also because of your detachment. you were kind, but you always held logic above emotion.

in front of them now was nothing short of a nervous wreck.

despite not moving, you were frantic. you were wringing your hands together, pressed tight against your stomach. your eyes darted from side to side, person to person, between them and the door to makarov.

price took a step forward and you took a step back. he was slow, bringing his hand up as if he were approaching a wild animal. if he was still angry, he was hiding it now.

"come on, kid, let's just get out of 'ere, eh? go somewhere away from him," he said lowly. the other three men watched tensely, not moving, but their hands still close to their guns. just in case.

"no, no- just let me- price, you need to let me back in there!" you were a broken record, you knew it, but there was nothing else to say, nothing else you could think about. this was what you had been waiting for, you were right where you had wanted to be for the past- how many years now? how long has he tormented you for now?

you could feel your father's presence in the next room like bugs crawling across your body. it made your head feel fuzzy and your hands shake. was it from rage or fear? you couldn't tell, so you chose the rage.

it was like bile stuck in your throat, all the pain makarov had caused you finally being unearthed. you wanted to throw it all up and spit it out onto him, lay your organs and hatred alike out on the table in front of him so he could see the decay. you wanted him to rot from the inside out like you had.

your eyes glanced at the door one last time before focusing on price. he was watching you, just a couple of steps in front of you now.

"let me back in there, john." it was a whisper, but still the steadiest thing you had spoken since they had dragged you out.

"no." he said your name quietly, and you heard it as the plea it was, but you're head decided it was done listening.

your body threw itself at him, swinging underneath his arms and onto his back to try and get him on the ground. the room exploded into yelling, and multiple pairs of hands were on you in an instant, hauling you off of price and forcing you face-down onto the ground with your hands behind your back.

cold metal latching around your wrists didn't stop your screaming and kicking, lashing out at the air around you. it didn't work well, because you were being hauled back to your feet and pushed into a separate interrogation room.

whoever was carrying you didn't bother with trying to attach your handcuffs to the table, basically throwing you in and slamming the door shut before you could get back on your feet.

outside the cell, the four men stood in silent shock. what was there to say, where would they even start? would they really be able to hear each other over your muffled screams to let you out?

you didn't know how long you had been in there once the door finally opens again, but you had stopped screaming and struggling to get out of the room. you had sat down at the table, your hands folded in front of you on the cold surface. you stared down at the blood beading and smearing around the handcuffs.

kyle squeezed in through the tiny amount he'd let the door open before he shut it quickly, keeping his eyes on you. you didn't look up, your red eyes staying fixed on one point even as he slowly moved closer. he followed them to see the red rings underneath the steel, and a pang of guilt squeezed his heart tight.

he sat down across from you, folding his hands in front of him on the table, mirroring you. you still hadn't looked up at him, or done anything to acknowledge his presence; you hadn't even moved.

"are you alright?" kyle implored. he kept his voice soft, bending over a little to try to look you in the eye.

it took you a few moments to respond; he almost started to think you didn't hear him before you opened your mouth slowly.

"is he dead?" you croaked.

kyle let out an audible sigh while he leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to drag them down his face.

"no, we still need him. you know that."

you didn't say anything after that.

after sitting in silence for two full minutes, he spoke up. "you realize not telling us about this makes you look really bad, yeah?"

"you don't trust me anymore?" you whispered it, like you didn't want him to hear and answer. you knew what he would say.

"you aren't making it very easy."

kyle wanted to trust you still. part of him was angry and confused as to why you had kept something like this from them. the other part, the bigger part of him, knew that you were on still on the same side of it all. and he knew the other three men felt the same, but they couldn't just dismiss this.

"we can work this out, ya' know. you just have to be honest with us," he added after you once again stayed silent.

"be honest?" you echoed. you finally looked up at him. "about what? you heard me. makarov is my father. i want him dead. that's all there is to say."

kyle took his turn to not speak, weighing your words, figuring out where to go from there.

"why didn't you tell us?" he finally asked.

you looked back down at your wrists. "if i had told you i was makarov's daughter before i joined the team, then all i would have ever been is makarov's daughter." you paused to take a deep, shaky breath. it was uncomfortable with your mask still on, wet with tears, but you refused to take it off, to give away the last piece of your identity that was still yours at the moment.

"it's something we should have known," he contended quickly. "we could have used the information you have-"

you cut him off, your eyes snapping back up to glare daggers at him. "you think i know anything more than you?" you barked. something between a laugh and a sob escaped your throat before you could continue. "i was eight years old the last time i saw him in person. i was raised by live-in nannies. he only visited, what, maybe twice a year? and i don't know why he even bothered, either."

your hands were clenched into tight fists, and the same sting that circled your wrists was appearing in your palms. you kept going though; you didn't know if you could stop now.

"every time i get somewhere, every time i start making a life for myself again, he fucks it all up. never showed his damn face, but it was him, it was always-" you finally cut yourself off, not wanting to drag more memories out from the dark.

"makarov may be my father, but i am not his daughter. i swear, kyle, i fucking swear it." you were pleading with him to believe you now. you needed them to understand.

you could see it in the way his eyebrows creased that he wanted to take your words as the truth. but he didn't say anything (what could he have said?).

the door opened once again, and price half-entered the room to wave kyle back out. he avoided your gaze, something he'd never done before. then you were alone again.

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undercoverpena · 8 months

Text

x. oh, just to be with you

javier peña x f!reader | chapter ten of late night texts

summary: It's the year 2000. Javi is minding his own business on the porch of his pop's ranch when a text from an unknown number vibrates his phone. The only problem is, no one knows he has a phone and no one has his number.

chapter warnings: we're back to texts and phone calls. sorrowful!javi, two idiots pining for one another. fluff. flirting. continuous romcom vibes. falling in love. idiots in love. pls don't be mad at me ✨ wordcount: 3k.

text key: bold is you/reader | italics is javi

He's aware of everything.

How the porch creaks when he steps on it, the way the back door doesn’t quite meet the frame unless it’s locked. How the wind is knocking something else, far across the tall grass and fence posts.

Right now, his focus is on how his curtains don’t quite close. That they're letting the thinnest crack of moonlight cascade through his room. How the smallest luminescent slither keeps dancing in the breeze, yet it still lands perfectly on the propped-up photo strip on his dresser, highlighting the two of you, as though he hadn't committed them to memory.

He can’t remember the last time someone had managed to slide around his walls—bypass his common sense and begin weaving themselves into him. Javi also can't remember the last time he wanted something more than a win.

Then came you.

Not that he complains that you're the exception. He'll never complain when it comes to you.

Having people close has never been his issue. It’s letting himself fall that he’s forever found hard. He can be a lover who makes a night all about the other; he can be a protector, shielding and doing what is needed.

It’s the parts after when he feels he clams up. A portion of him constantly weighing up risks, calculating the damage he could cause—either by a choice he could make or others—long before the city that housed Escobar.

Javi knew his reluctance had stemmed from before he left Laredo, but it was now carved somewhere deeper in him. Something you managed to find with relative ease and cut out of him as if it was nothing.

All smiles. All radiance and fucking beauty, with a laugh that could make his lips curl even if his bones are aching and his muscles are tired.

If he closes his eyes, he can almost convince himself that he’s back there, in the hotel room. Because even if you’d never been here, your room is full of him.

His bag of spilt-out clothes from your time together, slowly letting the scent of your perfume seep out across the room. Your jacket, hung on the closet handle, and the photos and sign you made on his dresser, all perfectly in sight.

you have nice handwriting I did try my best, sometimes I get lazy and letters blur together more. I like how you wrote baby Does this mean I’ve got the whole set now? Cause you like how I say it, how I write it, how I mouth it.

Even when he had known you’d needed to get some sleep, Javi had desperately wanted to beg you to stay up. Sending back a text here or there, already missing you so much more than he was sure he could handle.

He felt lovesick. Like the singer in all those songs that make people either stare at a loved one or bite back tears because they lost theirs. Suddenly relating to a sea of them he’s heard on the radio in the kitchen or hummed in the back of his pop’s throat.

Javi had been happy to see his pops, somewhat surprised he even came out of the house to greet him. But, as soon as his eyes landed on him, he became suddenly more aware of his old man’s age. Noticing the lines on his face, the ones that tell a thousand stories—not all of them he’s sure he’s heard. Curling into the hug he’d barely reciprocated before, unsure how to form the words to thank him for convincing him to go.

Naturally, he asks about you.

It’s more of an interrogation if he’s honest. He shows the photos, the ones now on his dresser, watching his pop smile as he continues to answer the array of questions, until he yawns for the tenth time in the space of five minutes.

“You should get some sleep, Pop.”

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead, Javi. Tell me more about your lady.”

Your lady.

Those two words stand out as if they’ve been illuminated in bulbs, twinkling and shimmering.

now youre back in reality you sure about us Never been more sure about anything, baby. just wanted to check You’re beginning to sound like me, worrying. left a mark on me Think that’s fair, you’ve left a lot on me too. Especially my chest.

“Tomorrow. Promise. The drive took it out of me.”

But Javi isn’t tired.

Somehow, he had suspected he wouldn’t be the moment he watched you leave.

For longer than he cares to number, he's struggled with it. Had developed an unhealthy live-able balance of it when he was working, something he managed to keep as a prize in his return.

Now, it’s different.

There’s an edge to it. As though he's now having to pay back the stolen sleep he enjoyed when he had been lay with you. When he slept with ease and not struggle. Leaving him feeling now like he’s in a lull, a dream. All aware, not in a daze anymore, noticing things he had never given much attention to before his trip out of town.

You had been so warm, so soft. His fingers gliding up and down your side, soothing you as much as it was him. But, you slept with ease. Falling almost instantly once you'd stopped talking, a little jolt and a soft sigh punctuating it.

Fuck, he misses you.

Thumb and index pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched shut. Unsure how he's supposed to manage, and cope, until the next chance he gets to see you.

Till he gets to hold you in his arms, stare at your smile as it grows across your face or feels the light tap of your hand when he’s teasing you...

Something ugly curls inside of him. At first, soaked in sadness, before it shakes itself and burns bright with annoyance. Irritation. Anger at how unfair it all is.

How is it, after all, he’s given up—he’s fallen for the one person not even in his state? A person he had to say goodbye to hours ago, for reasons out of his or their control.

He almost snorts, unsure if it’s due to the tiredness or the reality that after all he’s faced, life would continue to be cruel and deal him such a hand. Tempted to get up, kick off the sheets and pull out the crossword from before he left town.

Javi doesn't. Instead, he closes his eyes, shaking his head—to no one but himself. Because he can't do them without you now. A promise, one given with ease.

He hears the whisper of the wind, the rustle of the trees. Something needling at him that if he wasn't so broken, this would be the perfect amount of quiet to fall asleep to.

Now, it's not the loud of a Colombian city he misses now. It's how your leg slides over his, how your breaths feel on his chest—how you twitch, ever so slightly, as you first fall asleep.

But, it’s the quiet as to why he hears his phone vibrate, practically darting out of bed, knowing it can only be you.

why aren’t you asleep?

Because I can't sleep without you. Apparently.

I miss you too.

I really hate this. I even miss you digging your knee into my hip.

told you that you’d miss it once it was gone

I feel like telling you that you’re right will mean your head will inflate.

youre right

One day, right?

if I could make that tomorrow I would

You really missing me that much?

not enough words in the world to describe how much, baby

Gonna make me cry.

dont cry I can’t wipe them from here

So not wise for me to tell you I cried the entire flight home.

did the person you sit next to seem to mind

They didn’t say anything until we landed. Then promptly told me that I deserved better.

so they thought you were broken up with

I think I may have led her to believe that from the amount I was crying.

fuck you like me a lot

I like you a regular, normal amount.

I don’t think I like you a normal regular amount

That’s the tiredness talking.

you know it isnt

I feel the same. I really miss you.

I miss you too but you should try to sleep you have work tomorrow

Okay, but so do you!

ill be fixing a shed or a pen baby you have to deal with people

go to sleep and then tomorrow we can call as planned

You’d told him that you suspected the first day would be the hardest.

Not the goodbye (and that had been fucking painful) but the following day when they were apart.

Javi hates that you’re right.

It twists inside of him how much he loathes it—grateful that he gets to push some of his anger into repairing the side of the shed. Hammer meeting nail, again and again. Each time with more fury than is needed, only worrying after whether he’s done more damage to the shed post than pre.

"Mijo."

He doesn't find a judgemental look, but one filled with sympathy.

His pop not quizzing him, just handing him a beer. A cold one, droplets descending down the can, sliding across his palm and down his wrist—attempting to soothe the boiling blood in his veins.

“It’ll get easier.” His pop tugs his hat down, shielding his eyes, before staring off into the distance. “When me and your mama first began, we couldn’t see each other all the time either.”

Letting out a sigh, Javi grinds his teeth. A sea of biting comments lathered on his tongue, all set to pounce, to poison.

Instead, he kicks the ground, swallowing most of them back. “She wasn’t hundreds of miles away, though.”

“No,” his Pop says, clapping his hand on his back—both for comfort and likely stability. “But we didn’t have landlines, or tha' other thing you do on y’phone. The tapping."

The tapping.

He doesn't snort, even if it sits at the back of his throat. Burying it in the liquid that slides down his throat with ease.

"Come on, ‘need to head into town, and my truck is acting up.”

Javi doesn’t question it, why he’s the one sliding into the passenger seat of his own truck.

If he’d thought about it, he’d have asked why the truck was acting up or why Pop was driving instead of him. But he doesn’t—didn’t. Just let it happen, staring off as the shades of grass pass him by, fingers playing with the cap on the can, twisting and twisting it.

To fill the silence, he rolls the edges of the can around in his hands. Crunching the sides every now and again, making him wince from the noise.

Then, he finds himself staring at the fingerprints left in the dust from you touching his dash—eyes catching sight of a hair grip on the floor near his boot.

He’s rolling it in his fingers when they’re back on the road, silence smothering them until he watches his pop turn on the radio. As soon as it springs to life, it becomes desperate to try and cut through it. The broadcaster mumbles about heavy rain and increased traffic, but he’s lost in a sorrow of sadness all cast by the spell of a good week to care. The fog around him making it hard to see the wood through the trees, never mind the hope through the misery.

“Dios mio. More trucks passing through now since the bridge opened. Y’noticed, mijo? So many.”

“Hmm.”

Eyes fixed on the grip, the one more worn on one side than the other—imagining your face, the night when he’d watched you take them out, face fresh, one of his tees on your frame.

Then, because the world isn’t cruel enough, the song changes. The radio playing a game with him now, as well as everything else, as he lifts his head, trying to focus on the road. Hearing the soft thud of his pop’s fingers on the steering wheel, his jaw tightened as the lyrics washed over him. Faintly hearing you humming along with the chorus.

Because he heard the song in the diner with you.

Heard it on the radio one afternoon, then again in the bowling alley—how it wrapped its tune around the two of you.

“Heard our song today,” he says, fingers massaging his temple.

He's thankful his pop said he had plans, the quietness settling over the rest of the ranch.

Before he met you, he dreaded the nights he was left alone. His thoughts gearing up, ready to pounce. The minor differences he could have made if he took a step back and stared at the facts, how he should have noticed how deep the corruption was—how much Colombia was taking from him, bit by bit.

Now, he tries not to grin when his pop says he’s going out.

When he’s left alone, allowed full reign to talk as loud as he wants to you—rather than being huddled near the phone, whispering like a teenager.

“Our song?”

“Yeah.”

Javi can practically hear you smirk. “And how does that go, charmer?”

He’s not a singer. Not by a long shot, but he does his best. Humming the tune at first, softly singing the words from the chorus until he trails off.

You snort, before you try to muffle it in a cough.

“You tricked me.”

“Maybe. But, just because I wanted to hear you sing.”

Smirking, he pulls the phone from his ear—shaking his head—before replacing it back to hear you add:

“You have a beautiful voice.”

“Fuck you, baby.”

Your laugh rips from you, hurtling down the phone right to his soul—making fireworks explode in his chest and warmth kiss his nerves.

Because now he can imagine what you look like. Likely head thrown back, eyes closed—nose scrunched a little as your hands grip onto something for leverage.

And it was beautiful. You’re beautiful—your laugh and your smile. Something he feels he should have said long before now. He’s about to rectify that, when he hears it merge into a sniffle—veering into tears and half-suppressed swallows before a noticeable little sob breaks through—as his throat dries instantly, closing.

Turning, he places his palm on the fall as he tries to keep his chest from tightening. The knot in his chest, the one he suspects is tied to you in some way, constricts, pulling taught around his lungs.

“I—I miss….”

You sniffle again, louder. “I've been looking forward to this all day,” you whisper, voice catching, words struggling to fall as sweetly as they usually do. “But, is it bad for me to say that phone calls aren’t the same now I’ve had the chance to be with you in person?”

Leaning his forehead against the kitchen wall, Javi wipes his chin. “Took the words outta my mouth, baby.”

He hears you chuckle, almost both heavily and heavenly, before you ask about his day.

He rambles because it’s easy too. You listen, lapping up every single thing. Hearing about his trip to town, his pop making jokes—trying, desperately, to crack through the mist that had descended.

“How was yours?”

Then you sigh, all tight. You tell him about Aish and her interview, before your voice softens as you begin whispering about the prep you’re doing for your interview. He’s about to comfort you, when you continue about the asshole you work alongside has been taken out for lunch by your boss and that you snagged your favourite pair of tights on a desk.

“But, enough about that—guess what I’m wearing?”

Smiling, he bites down on his knuckle, Javi lifting his head, groaning as he tries to think. “All of your clothes at once? Anything else might short-circuit my brain.”

“Won’t tell you then.”

“No. Please. Tell me, baby.”

He hears you move, and is almost sure he can hear you swallow. “You realise that you’re missing something, Javier?”

Fuck, the way you say his name. How it drips from your tongue. Laced in lust and swirling down the phone line to his brain.

He quickly tries to think of his washing, the piles he made—the attempted sorting. And it hits him. His eyes widened, head half-lifting, feeling his eye twitch.

“Fuck—“

“Yes. I’m sat in that. And underwear, of course.”

“Hermosa…”

His throat is dry, painfully so. Mind arranging an image of you from the days he spent with you. And fuck.

“Wasn’t sure this shade of pink was my colour, but I was wrong.”

Jutting his jaw, he closes his eyes—picturing the sight of you. The underwear he’d had the chance to peel off of you, the way it set against your skin—now, accompanied by his shirt on your arms. The buttons are likely undone, showing off more skin than he can currently process thinking about.

“It’s nice on my skin,” you whisper, all honeyed. “Be better on my floor.”

Clenching his fist, he bites his lip. “Baby…”

“Maybe I’ll show you one day.”

Snorting, he traces his teeth with his tongue. “You better. Now, tell me about the underwear.”

“Only if you can answer six across. Clue: now.”

Mouth parting, his jaw rolls to the side, eyes picking a spot on the wall. Thinking. And thinking.

“Want an extra clue?”

“An extra? You're spoiling me.”

He hears you giggle, low and in your throat. “It’s an Italian word. And, ‘I want to see you… blank—“

His eyes flick up, a smile spreading. “Pronto.”

“Correct,” you reply. “Seven words, silenced. You did this to me when you had your mouth on my—“

“Shushed,” he says quickly, fist clenching, trying to stare at the mark on the wall again, and not let the image of you populate in his head.

“You okay, baby?”

Gritting his teeth, he sighs. “You’re devious, you know that?”

“I think it’s your shirt. It’s making me… flirty.”

Grinning, he turns on the spot, back against the wall—head tilting up, eyes closing. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too….” your tone softer, frayed at the edges. “I’m kinda glad I stole your shirt.”

“Me too. Means I get to see you to steal it back from you.”

“Off me.”

It comes out quickly—purposefully chosen, spilt.

Frowning, he opens his eyes. “What?”

“Off me. You’ll have to steal it from my body.”

Grasping the phone, breathing through his nose, letting out a murmured, “Fuck, baby,” under his breath.

AN: for all those wondering if they'll be together in person again, they will. i am a happily-ever-after kind of writer unless otherwise stated. but it was so important to me that they had a magical week, and then returned to their lives.

#javier peña x reader #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javier peña x you #narcos x reader #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javi pena x reader #narcos javier x reader #narcos javier #pedro pascal x reader #narcos fanfiction #pedrostories #mm: late night texts #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic

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highvern · 4 months

Text

Teach Me VI

Final

Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader

Genre: smut, humor, college au

Warnings: angst, pining, crying, alcohol consumption, jealous pouty DK, meddling Seungkwan and Hoshi, eventual smut, dry humping, making out, face fucking, munch DK as always, unprotected sex, cream pie, they're simps for each and its disgusting!, DK wearing a chain that dangles in readers face bc im sick and twisted, kinda choking but not really?

Length: ~7.4k

Note: SURPRISE!! ITS HERE!!!! this series started in OCTOBER which is wild to think about. two months of these two plaguing my day to day and so many amazing readers interacting with the story honestly makes a little emotional for it to end. this is the first series i've ever done and now it's over so soon but there are bigger and better things on the horizon! (goes and cries in the corner) If you notice any errors or typos pls ignore.

This blog is intended for 18+ only! MDNI or you'll be blocked!

read more here

[MONDAY 11:23 AM]

YOU: Home

Mr. Boo: Thank you! Love you!

Mr. Boo: We can have a bff night when I get back

[MONDAY 4:48 PM]

DOKYEOM: Hope you got home safe

DOKYEOM: I’m sorry, I shouldn't have spoken to you like that.

DOKYEOM: Can we talk this week?

Dokyeom doesn’t leave his room the rest of the weekend. A combination of fear of Seungkwan beating the crap out of him and absolute heartbreak keep him wrapped in the covers. Not even Soonyoung can elicit more than a half-hearted grunt when checking if his roommate is still alive.

The drive back to campus is no different. Staring longingly out the window, Dokyeom stares at his unanswered messages. When he goes to your Instagram he finds your account missing with the sinking realization you blocked him.

Seventy two of the best and subsequent worse hours of his life crumbled your fragile relationship. He thought you returned his feelings.

After Soonyoung blabled a drunken confession on Dokyeom’s behalf, he worried you’d drive off in the night; swiftly rejecting him. But you wrapped your arms around him and held him as you slept. Kissed him awake in the early morning sun, nothing but a soft smile and presses of lips across his face. It was better than anything Dokyeom hoped for. He thought it meant you liked him back even if you didn’t say it yet.

But then you interrogated him and the hot tub and it all came crashing down. You were trying to let him down easy, buttering him up before giving him a reality check. It’d hurt of course. The tsunami of shame at thinking he had a chance and then adding insult to injury when you called him childish.

Dokyeom knows he was wrong for his reaction but embarrassment sent him spiraling and he needed to get as far away from you as possible.

And now that he’d succeed, he doesn't think he can find a way back.

—

Monday and Tuesday are spent suffocating under a mound of blankets, munching on a carton of ice cream, and crying till your head hurts and your throat is sore. The string of texts from Dokyeom remains thoroughly ignored; but each buzz of your phone raises your heart rate to unhealthy levels until you read the notification from some store offering a discount.

You ignore the string of messages from Dokyeom, tempted more and more to block him as they come through; but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Just like you can’t bring yourself to delete the pictures of you two together peppered throughout your camera roll, or the most recent video that does nothing but make you sick to your stomach.

Tuesday night your roommate returns to campus, cheery and well rested from a weekend with her boyfriend back home. You hide from her friendly questions about your weekend in the bathroom, shrouded in steam and bubbles.

Looking at yourself in the mirror after you're sufficiently pruned and chilled from freeze drops, you notice the traces of Dokyeom still on your skin.

A tiny maroon bruise is fading to a sick green right under your collar bone. Prodding it with the tip of your finger, you wince at the tenderness of the flesh.

You hate it.

Hate how somehow your eyes are thick with a gloss of tears at the sight of a hickey, they way you can’t catch your breath when you realize the shirt you brought in with you is another one of his you lifted over the months.

Dokyeom hadn’t been your boyfriend. You two hadn’t even been casually dating. Over and over again you remind yourself you were just friends who had sex, and you shouldn’t be this torn up over a guy. Dokyeom didn’t like you and that wasn’t something to hold against him.

But the facts do nothing to stop the knot permanently lodged in your throat.

—

The first time you see Dokyeom post-not-breakup, he’s sitting in one of the rolling chairs at the mahogany table you two claimed for your usual study sessions.

Blood frozen, heart clenching unbearably, you turn and walk right back out the revolving glass doors, hoping he didn’t see you.

But the echo of quick footsteps behind you say otherwise.

“Hey! Y/N!”

Faltering for a moment, you keep walking as if you hadn’t heard anything. And because the universe has a sick sense of humor, the crossing light turns red just as you approach, leaving you stranded with the one person you didn’t want to see.

You whip around at tap against your arm with such ferocity you nearly stumble.

Dokyeom has the gall to smile at you sheepishly before opening his mouth, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“You weren’t in lab yesterday.”

“Nope.” You respond monotonously, glancing behind you at the still red crossing light.

“Did you need notes or—”

“No, I got them already.”

“Oh, well—”

The light turns green, allowing you to race across the road before Dokyeom can finish his thought. The heat of his gaze doesn't leave your back until you turn down the next road leading you home.

—

Your second interaction with Dokyeom is in the same sterile lab your friendship started. You slip inside just before class starts, narrowly avoiding getting locked out by your grumpy instructor.

Sliding into an open seat near the door, you stare straight ahead as he delves into the topic for this afternoon, pointedly ignoring the pair of eyes watching you from the familiar station at the back of the room.

“Finals are almost upon us people so I would like to take this opportunity to remind you that the lab is not open after hours. Meaning, you should prioritize your time in this room. Now let’s get started.”

The guy you’ve been partnered with is nice enough, willing to follow your lead as you read off the necessary equipment. He even manages to crack a few jokes, though not funny you’re thankful for the distraction.

You learn his name is San, he’s an underclassman and he doesn’t understand anything about the class despite attending every lecture and office hour available.

When he leans over to copy the results you’ve scratched into your notebook, you hear a crack and shatter behind you. A dozen heads twist towards the source of commotion, finding a red faced Dokyeom staring at you.

“Mr. Lee! May I remind you our lab equipment isn’t cheap!”

“Sorry,” he mutters, shuffling towards the broom hanging on the wall.

You focus on ignoring him the rest of class, which is surprisingly easy with your new partner pestering you with inane questions.

A lull hits, waiting for the digital scale to spit out a final reading. You managed to pull well ahead of schedule, calling over your instructor to verify your results before collecting your things.

“So,” San starts, stuffing his own notebook in his bag. “Would you be down to tutor me sometime?”

“Oh, I uh—”

“No pressure! I just saw some of the old quizzes in your folder and thought maybe you could help me out.”

“Sure,” you smile, taking his phone to enter his number.

Voices from the different stations echo off the blank walls, drowning your conversation out.

“Awesome! My boyfriend took this class last year but did about as well as I’m doing.”

Returning his phone back, you start walking to the door. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, he told me to take geology instead but I didn’t listen.” He laughs, stepping forward to hold the heavy wooden door open for you to pass.

You miss the sound of a second beaker breaking as you walk down the hall with your new friend.

—

“Dude, you have got to calm down.” Soonyoung pleads, head hanging off the couch as his legs extend into the air. He swears the increased blood flow makes him smarter.

Dokyeom nearly wears a rut into the carpet from his pacing across the length of their tiny living room. He’s been in a mood since that afternoon, watching his not-girlfriend-possibly-no-longer-friend giggle with some dude that wasn’t him. And then give her number to said dude. In front of him. All while she completely ignored his existence.

“He probably just asked her to study together.”

Jealousy isn’t Dokyeom’s thing. Sure he may whine and pout if he isn’t getting enough attention, but he’s never got the blood boil urge scream like he has right now. And about a girl that won’t even look at him.

Tangling both fists in his hair, Dokyeom tries to calm down. Soonyoung was probably right. You’re a genius at chemistry, you’re slated to officially tutor through the library next semester pending final grades, and the guy Dokyeom swears he’s never seen in class most likely asked you for help. It’s not his place to be jealous.

“Hate to be that guy but you need to get a grip”

It's easier said than done. There's four more weeks of class plus a four hour final and your Seungkwan’s friend. You’re not going to disappear after the semester ends and Dokyeom’s feelings surely aren’t going anywhere given he’s got a constant reminder that you’re the woman he lost his virginity to.

If he knew inviting you to that party at the beginning of the semester would end up like this, he'd have sat somewhere else the first day of lab.

Soonyoung chokes on his own saliva when Dokyeom collapses on the floor with a reluctant, “You’re right.”

“I am?” Eyes bugging so hard they nearly pop from his head.

“I just have to move on.”

They both silently agree to pretend Dokyeom is capable of that.

—

San and his boyfriend, Jay, turn out to be horrible study partners. You are hardly able to focus from the way your abs hurt from laughter; Jay has a talent for self-deprecating humor.

“You didn’t!” You gasp, ignoring the daggers being glared into you back by other library goers.

Typically you’d respect the needs of others, but they chose to sit on the first floor; if they needed real quiet they should have sat upstairs where it’s enforced by a graduate librarian with nothing better to do.

Jay nods solemnly, “I threw up on him during our first date. But he,” flinging an accusatory finger at his boyfriend, “insisted we go to some weird food truck so it’s his own fault.”

“You said you liked to try new things!” San defends.

“Not food poisoning!”

Descending into giggles, you feel sorry Seungkwan is missing out on two people he’d get along with. But he canceled at the last minute, leaving you at the large oak table all by your lonesome until you’d run into your classmate, looking for a seat.

From the corner of your eye, you see a familiar someone approaching. White blonde hair and trademark grin, Soonyoung stops at the edge of the table.

“Hey, Y/N” he grins.

Sending him a tightlipped smile you return the greeting.

Soonyoung introduces himself to your tablemates, both just as friendly as he. Thick palpable tension descends into the warm atmosphere and you’re about to rise and get another coffee just to escape it when Soonyoung turns back to you.

“Could I take a look at your results from the last lab? We didn’t get to finish in time.”

The unspoken half of ‘we’ is Dokyeom.

You hate the flare of curiosity flashing in your head. When you partnered with Dokyeom you always finished on time if not early, even with his joking.

“Ugh, sure.” You agree, digging into your bag for your notebook.

Not waiting for an invitation, Soonyoung slides into the chair next to you, pulling out his own notebook to copy down your answers quickly. But even after collecting the necessary info, he lingers.

“So you’re in lab with us too, right?” He asks San.

“Yeah, but I’m probably taking it again next year even with Y/N’s help.” San smiles.

“And you?” Soonyoung asks Jay.

“No, I took it last year.”

“Glad to see someone can make it out alive! Do you guys mind if I hang out until my friend arrives?”

The friend is definitely Dokyeom but you don’t want to look like a bitch in front of your new acquaintances nor have to explain the mess of your love life to either of them.

Soonyoung’s self satisfied grin when you flash a tight lipped smile and nod nearly tempts you into strangling him. Why is he choosing to torture you? It’s Dokyeom’s fault no matter how you look at the situation. He tricked you; had you falling for the saccharine persona and ambiguous confessions. Dokyeom rejected you at the cabin for everyone to see, humiliated you, and then had the nerve to act upset when you wouldn’t speak to him.

You try to focus on the worksheet in front of you, a proactive effort to prepare for the final exam still far away. Drowning in extra credit had been an exhaustive effort to get your mind off of your issues but Soonyoung had to ruin it. And now he’s laughing with San and Jay like best friends and it’s all too much.

Shooting up from your seat, they all stop to stare as shaky hands pack up your materials. “Sorry, I forgot I had a thing. Somewhere else. Bye!”

Halfway to the door before anyone thinks to question your eagerness to leave, you walk right into another person.

“Shit sorry!” The faceless stranger exclaims as your books and papers go flying.

“No, I should have been watching wher–”

And when you look up, Dokyeom is staring back.

“Sorry, let me help you.”

“It's fine!” You snap, scrambling to shove everything into your bag.

You will not cry in the library: not over Dokyeom, not in front of Dokyeom. But once the concrete steps out front greet you the first tear falls and they don’t stop until you fall asleep curled up in your bed.

—

Later that week, in the sanctuary of your dorm, you indulge in contraband alcohol and the hype of your best friend.

“You need to just rip the bandaid off.” Seungkwan announces, arms thrown wide to punctuate his point.

“And how do I do that? I still have class with him!”

“Okay but how much of his stuff is still here?”

“Only like a few things.” you shrug, glancing around the room.

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan asks, throwing himself from his perch on your bed, crossing to the basket full of laundry in front of your closet. “Because this is a hoodie from his high school, this is the shirt I got him for his birthday a few years ago,” he shuffles around the collection of socks and pants to pull more of Dokyeom’s belongings out. “And I’m pretty sure you don’t wear boxers.”

Seungkwan launched the wad of clothing your way, disappearing into the bathroom in search of more evidence of your ex-friend with benefits.

“You let him keep a toothbrush here?” Seungkwan yells, head popping out with the neon green piece of plastic dangling between his fingers.

It's tossed into the growing pile at the foot of your bed, your rage-fueled focus on the smattering of objects on your desk.

More cheap wine and outrageous laughter has Seungkwan encouraging you to race across campus and return everything as soon as possible.

Red faced, he steadies you by your arms, “Listen, the sooner you get rid of this stuff the better. You’re like subconsciously holding on to him or whatever.”

Mooney eyed, you nod at your friend’s wisdom, scrambling for a bag.

The tote of Dokyeom’s belongings you’ve accumulated over the months sits heavy on your shoulders; bulging with the assortment of clothes, a spare phone charger, and a book that was severely overdue at the library you’d found under your bed.

Each click of your shoe against the tile floor echoes in the eerie silence as you walk down the hall towards the door of his apartment. The sterile lighting and gray walls are familiar yet alien under the new circumstances you're visiting.

You won’t be greeted with the smile you’ve grown to miss or the puppy-like excitement that once made you feel special. Both things of the past you hope to forget. No one had your heart fluttering or twisting in knots the way Dokyeom had. But those happy memories are just memories. And the sooner you cut him out, the sooner you can forget them.

Your fiery determination to get over him ignited in the walls of your bedroom had begun to smolder as the chilly wind and movement sobered you up.

A large part of you hopes it’ll be Soonyoung answering the door, Dokyeom absent for whatever convenient reason as you dumped his belongings and walked away for the last time. Worse case scenario, neither are home and you're left feeling like an idiot, lugging the ridiculously heavy bag back across campus in the freezing wind and rain.

Worse-er case scenario, Dokyeom is home.

The door to the boys’ apartment is like all the others, but the hot pink “please don’t do coke in our bathroom” doormat stands out. A gift from Jeonghan, if you remember correctly.

A quick rap of knocks announces your presence before you can lose your nerve, stepping back as you wait for it to crack open.

As luck would have it, Dokyeom answers the door.

“Um–” he starts, clearly confused by what he’s seeing.

Shoulders square, back pin straight, you thrust the bag at him. “Here’s your stuff.”

“Oh.” Dokyeom exclaims, still confused, but cradling the tote into his stomach.

“Well, bye.” You turn to leave but stop when he calls you back.

“I can grab your stuff real quick. Since you’re already here.”

It is a horrible idea. Alone with Dokyeom, in his apartment, where the only person to hold you accountable is yourself. But you can be done with this entire mess once you have the hodge podge of items you’ve no doubt accumulated here.

Nodding once, you follow as Dokyeom turns to head towards his bedroom.

Suffocating tension, thick as tar, fills the air. Dokyeom doesn't attempt to replace it with ill timed jokes as he digs in the black dresser in the corner of his room. The bottom left drawer had been long cleaned out of his own clothes, making room for the odds and ends left behind following your rendezvous.

A sizable pile of clothes lands on his unmade bed, followed by some toiletries you forgot at the cabin in your haste to flee.

Your ears are ringing from the quiet at this point, unable to look at Dokyeom swapping his belongings from the canvas tote with your own. Focusing on your phone, you scroll mindlessly, as Dokyeom works slowly to prolong the torture. He unfolds and refolds all the shirts, lost pairs of pants and shorts, before cramming them into the bag. If you took a second to look at him, you’d see longing glances in your direction with each item he packs away. But you don’t chance it until he approaches you when he’s finished.

“Here,” he says, eyes downcast as he hands you back the full bag.

Lifting it from his hands, you move back to the living room, bee lining for the front door and the sobering cold air outside.

“Wait.”

The smooth metal doorknob is cold against the wrinkles of your palm. All you need to do is twist and it's over. Unlatch the lock, step outside and your relationship with Dokyeom, whatever it may have been, is done. No more crying, no more wondering. Only four more classes and you can leave the mess of the past semester behind you forever.

But you can’t do it. The smallest part of your heart, buried under the weight of anger and sadness, pleads for you to stay. To give Dokyeom one last chance.

You wait for him to say something else, not moving a muscle as you take shallow breaths. Body tense in preparation, you’re afraid you might shake out of your skin. Being alone with Dokyeom was a stupid idea.

Realizing you're not going to leave, you hear him shuffle closer.

You jump when he speaks again, voice right over your shoulder. “Can we please talk?”

“What’s there to talk about?” You frown.

At his responding silence, you chance a glance over your shoulder, met with sad brown eyes.

“I just—,” he shakes his head, chin tipping towards the floor to examine his socks.

Prompting him again, “What do you want, Dokyeom?”

“You asked me if I liked you… and I do.”

You squash the seed of hope rooting in your chest, afraid that if he tramples it again you’ll never recover. Turning to face him, you cross your arms pensively. His confession should send your heart racing and your cheeks flushing. But why does he sound so sad about it?

Dokyeom scrubs a hand down his face in frustration. “I should have told you sooner but I— I kept waiting for the right time and then that night happened and I thought I messed everything up. But then we started fooling around so I thought ‘there’s no way she likes me.’ You know?

From where you’re standing, Dokyeom is exactly the kind of guy anyone would go for. Warm as a ray of sunshine, contagious laughter, thoughtful. Excited by life, and brimming with affection for anyone lucky enough to be considered his friend.

It’s a shame he can’t see himself the way you see him.

“I know all you wanted was to hook up and I was fine with that until you came to the cabin. Soonyoung had to run his mouth, and I thought you were trying to let me down easy in the hot tub so I got embarrassed.”

Biting your lip to stop the rebuttal simmering on the tip of your tongue, you feel the scowl melt off your face, morphing into a questioning gaze.

“You’re like, the coolest person I know. You’re funny and you’re smart and pretty, god you’re so pretty.” he breaths, finally looking at you. “And I feel like every time I get to see you I can’t breathe. And us hooking up made it worse because I’ve liked you since the first day of class when you sat down next to me and smiled at me. I thought I was gonna throw up.” Dokyeom raises his hands in defense as you scoff, quickly clarifying, “In a good way! You just— you make me nervous and stupid and now you hate me.”

He finishes the last part in a whisper, face vulnerable, looking at you helplessly.

“I don’t hate you.” You warble, launching yourself into his arms, tangling your limbs around him to squeeze as close as possible. It’s ungraceful, your head knocking into his chin, his feet scrambling to balance the unexpected shift of weight. But Dokyeom barely hesitates before pulling you into his chest, face buried in your neck while trying to force you into his skin by his arms around your waist.

Two puzzle pieces, carved to fit perfectly together.

“You don’t?”

Squeezing him tighter, you calm in the thud of his heart and the pine scent of his cologne. You both simply bask in the presence of one another. At a week and a half, this is the longest you’ve gone without the other since you started your arrangement.

Dokyeom presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, sweet as sugar. His lips ghost against your hairline as he starts to speak again. “I’m sorry for the way I acted. I shouldn’t have freaked out on you.”

“I shouldn’t have called you childish.” You apologize, tipping your head back to meet his gaze.

“I mean you were right. I was being a dick.”

“But I wasn’t in any shape to call you out when I was doing the same thing.”

“The same…” Dokyeom echoes, confused.

“If we weren’t so dumb we could have been dating for weeks by now.”

“Oh.”

“Oh?” You smile.

“We really are dumb.”

Pure unadulterated joy takes flight on his face. Dokyeom cups your face in his hands, forehead meeting your own as you smile at him, his own dazzling in return.

“Yeah, but at least we have each other.”

The bark of awkward laughter and shaky words are unstoppable as you cower in his arms.

“So you’re okay with me calling you my girlfriend?”

“You can call me whatever you want.” You sigh, biting your lip at the idea.

“Even my shmoopie poopie?”

Nose scrunching as you laugh at his ridiculousness, you shake your head vigorously in objection. “You can call me whatever you want besides that.”

“Baby cakes?” He asks, peppering a kiss on your cheek.

“No!”

“Honeybuns?”

Another kiss on the tip of your nose.

“No.”

“What about–”

A firm press to his mouth silences Dokyeom as you hum.

—

Soonyoung returns to his apartment after another failed date, eager to shoot the shit with his roommate over a few beers and some video games. But when he opens the door to his home, he finds a trail of clothes flung haphazardly across the furniture, leading straight to said roommate's room.

No fucking way. Soonyoung thinks.

Then he hears a thud from behind the door, followed by a familiar laugh he hasn’t heard in the apartment in well over two weeks.

No FUCKING way! He huffs, reaching for his phone.

—

Down the street, Seungkwan smirks as the expected ding of a new Venmo notification shrills through the silence of your dorm:

“Kwon Soonyoung paid you $50.00. – HOW DID YOU KNOW? – Your Venmo balance is now $135.00.”

Epilogue:

Finals season rushes forward rapidly. Two days before you’re set to fly back home for winter break, Chem grades are released.

Another pair of matching As to be celebrated in typical fashion but this time you’re Dokyeom’s girlfriend and he’s sweating like it’s his first time all over again. The night you both confessed had been you last night together. Dokyeom insisted you take things slow, his fear of messing up again forcing him to take caution.

It's sweet. How he wants to take you out, wine and dine you as if a certain video didn’t still exist on both your phones. And you’d enjoyed the full experience too; walks around campus with interlaced fingers, shy glances in class, and girlish giggles as he offered his jacket on a cold night. The innocent good night kisses dropped on your lips in front of your door that have Dokyeom insisting “just one more” for an hour before he finally lets you slip inside your room.

It’d been everything you dreamed of and more.

But you're both tired of make outs that lead nowhere. Of sitting in Dokyeom’s lap at parties and not letting your hands wonder like you’re both dying too. Waking up in his bed and pretending you don’t feel him nudging the curve of your ass as before he hides in the bathroom to take care of his boner; leaving you to stare at the ceiling, fighting the urge to follow him into the shower and lend a helping hand.

Tonight, you’ve reached the boiling point and it’s spilling over.

“‘s okay?” He asks into the curve of your neck, palms gliding up your stomach underneath the soft cream sweater you’d worn to dinner.

Humming as your head lulls against the interior of his front door, the warmth of his mouth and hands making your brain fuzzy. Tonight, everything feels like more. Your nipples peak at the smallest brush of his tongue, back bowing under the swipes of his thumb against your ribs; even when he pressed a chaste kiss to the back of your intertwined fingers on the walk to his apartment ripped the air from your lungs.

Dokyeom feels the nerves of that first night, but you’re acting like the desperate virgin he’d been. Drooling to touch and be touched. For your boyfriend to string you out one last time before you both return home for a few weeks of winter break only to pick right back up in the new year.

Snaking a hand down his front, you palm the half hard length with a firm pressure that pulls his hips forward like a magnet. A strained grunts sings in your ear as Dokyeom rocks firmly in your grip, pressing you into the wall under his torturous grind.

Turning to nudge your nose into his cheek softly, hot kisses dropping across his jaw as you bid him to take off his pants; pushing them down clumsily. You don’t bother with the brass button or rough zipper, blinded by desperation and simply clawing the stiff material downwards in an effort to get beneath.

You manage to trickle to your knees, slipping through Dokyeom’s hold like water. The hard floor biting into your skin as you kneel before him to mouth at the thin fabric of his boxer. Dokyeom’s elbows land against the wall, caging you in as he watches from above; entranced by the shallow dip of your lips over the covered head of his cock and the lash of your tongue where you taste him through the fabric.

Tonight isn’t the night for teasing, so you have his boxers landing atop his jeans around his ankles in a blink. Tongue following the vein bulging on the underside of his cock as your hand returns to allow your thumb to dig into his slit.

Dokyeom whimpers a pathetic “fuck,” as you play with him, eagerly lapping up his shaft before sucking him into your mouth; hand dropping to cup his balls, the other rest on his stomach to hold his own shirt out of the way.

You missed how responsive he is to your touch, melting in the palm of your hand as he chases the warmth of your mouth with his hips. Anyone who walks by the door would undoubtedly hear what’s happening on the other side, the choked whimpers from you and guttural moans from Dokyeom combining into a lewd symphony.

Head hitting the wall behind you with a dull thud, you let Dokyeom take over; humming as each press forward leaves the taste of his cock on your tongue. There’s something degrading in letting him fuck your mouth like this, sandwiched between his hips and the wall as he uses you to get off.

You gasp for breath when he pulls away, tongue sticking out to bid him back but his slender fingers cupping your chin distract you straight into his lips.

Pulling you to your feet, Dokyeom dips his tongue between your lips as he leads you blindly to the couch. His mouth is nothing but taking; stealing your breath away, your sanity. Things you’d happily let him have if it meant he wouldn’t stop. But Dokyeom was a giver too. A slide of his tongue lit a fire under your skin, fanning the desperation bordering on depravity.

“Fuck me,” you plead, grinding your aching cunt against his thigh.

Dokyeom responds by pressing into you harder, teeth tearing into your bottom lip as his cock drools against your thigh, staining your jeans.

You're so turned on it hurts, pussy painfully empty and panties drenched from heavy petting. If Dokyeom doesn’t do something soon, you have half a mind to get yourself off without him.

Dokyeom is trying, fighting to not to blow his load on your leg as you whine and arch beneath him. For him. But when you manage to close your fist around his length, giving a firm tug with the twist around the head you know he goes crazy for, it’s all over. Dokyeom’s core tightens as he spills on your sweater, streaks of his cum ruining the fabric as he pants into your mouth. Your tight grip doesn’t falter as you work him through it, teeth bruising his jaw as he paints you with his seed.

When Dokyeom gains sentience again, he winces in shame.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t— I wouldn’t,” he tries to apologize, but stops when you part your lips to lap at your stained fingers; eyes trained on the pink of your tongue dipping out to swipe against the tips for taste.

Mouth wide as he stares, Dokyeom thinks he might come again without any help as you suck your fingers. His own dip into the pool of cum dimpling across your stomach, lifting to your mouth to replace yours. Dokyeom groans as your eyes never leave his, heated and heavy lidded as lick them clean and swallow his cum.

Dropping his hand to the back of your neck, he angles your head so his tongue can delve into your mouth. It’s messy and disgusting but you like it and that’s all Dokyeom cares about as he works to free you both of your clothes. He’s stark naked easily, shirt gone over the back of the couch in no time. But your clothes require more focus than either of you are capable of when Dokyeom is on top of you.

His feet hit the ground before he rises to stand, dragging you up to roughly undress you. You don’t seem to mind if the way you fist your jeans down is an inclination. Outer layers gone, Dokyeom finally gets a peek at the early Christmas present you’d been hoping to surprise him with.

Lacy maroon panties and a match bra hug your figure, accentuating your shape in the most mouthwater ways. Eyebrows raised to his hairline, Dokyeom heaves at the masterpiece you present him with.

Drops of your flesh peek through the holes in the lace, teasing him with what’s underneath. The high cut sides of your thong dig into your hips, making your legs look impossibly long and highlighting the sway of your thighs. Straining to pull his eyes up further, Dokyeom finds the bottom hem of your bra. Tongue rolling out of his mouth as the cups push your breasts up and together, teasing Dokyeom with ideas of fucking his cock between them as you lick at the tip.

You look like a goddess and Dokyeom is happy to get on his knees to worship every inch.

Dokyeom catches you smirking at his obvious reaction when he finally looks at your face. Stepping into his space, your fingers find purchase in the short hairs at the base of his head. A cold sweat breaks on his brow as you smile like the cat who got the canary.

“Do you like my outfit, Kyeomie?” You ask, tone deceptively sweet.

If he was capable of any thought beyond cataloging the swaths of naked skin and curves, maybe he’d answer more eloquently than grunting like a caveman.

“I picked it for you.”

Dokyeom lets his hands find your hips, squeezing the plush flesh in his palms as you continue to toy with him. His fingers pluck the thin elastic while his mind wanders down the extensive list of things he’s dying to do to you.

“Do you wanna see the whole thing?”

“There’s more?”

Falling to the floor, you dig into the pocket of your jeans for whatever the last piece of your outfit, if you could call it that. Rising again you present him with a thin piece of ribbon and a silver chain, both causing Dokyeom’s face to twist in confusion.

You prompt him to take the scarlet ribbon, a perfect match to the set you’ve donned, allowing Dokyeom to spot the clasp at the ends and the small silver charm dangling in the middle.

A sun is embossed on the front of the circular piece of silver. And engraved on the back is his name.

Having his name around your throat while he fucked you isn’t a kink he knew existed. But now Dokyeom is pretty sure he’ll be haunted by the idea for the rest of his life. The silver chain still in your hands has a similar charm but with a moon. Dokyeom’s vision goes fuzzy and his brain clouds at the assumption your name is on the back to match.

“Will you help me put it on?” You ask innocently, turn around so Dokyeom can slip what he can only describe as a mock collar around your neck.

Dokyeom latches the clasp with shaky hands, the strip of silk pulled taunt around your neck with each breath. When you face him once again, the charm sits in the hollow of your throat, silver winking at him seductively.

The icy metal of the chain bites into his skin erotically as you raise to clasp it around his neck. Your nose nudges against his jaw, a ghosting open mouth kiss landing on his jugular as the charm teases the muscles of his chest where it dangles.

You land on the couch with a squeak, taken aback by Dokyeom shredding the delicate fabric of your panties with clumsy hands as he struggles to get them off you. Bullying his way between your legs, he apologizes with a heavenly strip of his tongue through your slit.

He eats you like a man starved, nails leaving crescents in the tops of your thighs as he spreads you so wide the muscles in your hips scream in objection. Dokyeom’s tongue dips into your hole, collecting your essence on his tongue before spitting it back on your clit and digging in. The swollen nub slips against the flat of his wet muscle, and when his lips gently close around it he sucks just the way you taught him to you he’s rewarded with a wanton sob.

Whines fly from between your lips at the torturous pleasure, thrashing as Dokyeom uses all his strength to pin you and place. Spots dance along your vision, expanding as two fingers push past your folds to stretch you out. Dokyeom knows your pussy like the back of his hand and he stuffs you just right with his fingers.

All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and hold on tightly as you fly over the edge. Racing forward under the heat of Dokyeom’s mouth and harsh thrusts of his fingers till you weep pitifully. You’re floating through space under his attention; mouth open over silent begs not to stop, eyes clenched shut. Every beat of your frantic heart carries satisfaction through tense muscles till you are pliant and boneless.

“Too much,” you whimper, thighs forcing close around his head.

Dokyeom takes it in stride. The combination of your essence and his saliva soaking chin, leaving a damp trail across your body as he kisses his way to your mouth.

His thumb finds the ribbon taunt around your throat, focusing on the piece of metal resting against your skin as you taste yourself on his tongue.

Panting into his mouth, you mewl something vaguely sounding like “want you.”

Luckily, Dokyeom is more than happy to give you whatever you want.

Nodding like a bobble head, he pulls you down into his lap as he kneels on the floor. The head of his cock proddes against your entrance, slipping in just enough for you to take the rest with ease.

The stretch is nothing short of bliss; so deep you can taste him in the back of your throat. Dokyeom fills you perfectly, the small nip of pain from not taking him in the past month only multiplying the satisfaction you feel at finally having him inside you again.

With herculean effort, you rise to allow only a few inches to exit before dropping back down. Hands searching for leverage, you balance on the cushions behind you as you grind into his lap.

Dokyeom doesn’t know where to look, overwhelmed by his options; your face twisted around gasping breaths; or your chest, still clad in your bra, tits bouncing with each movement; or where his cock disappears inside you.

But the silver heart around your throat seems to snag his focus easily.

Dokyeom isn’t possessive but the way it not so subtly declares you as his makes his cock throb. He’s the only one that gets to have you like this, and you him. The twin pendants remind him you’re his girlfriend and everything beyond slips away as he watches it jerk around with every movement.

Before long, your legs burn from effort, ruining your already unstable motions into nothing more than stuttered ruts. Dokyeom’s hands palming your ass assist in lifting you to the couch, limbs awkwardly sprawled off the edges but he doesn’t slow while your nails scratch deep lines into his shoulders.

“Oh, don’t stop! Fuck, please don’t stop.” You beg, head thrown back into the cushions.

Stopping sounds like the worst idea he’s ever heard. Dokyeom needs this. Gloved snuggly in your heat after so long is the only cure for the constant plague of memories of pestering him day and night. He knows they won’t go away but at least he won’t feel like ripping his skin off every time you're within a fifteen foot radius.

The wet clap of your bodies grows to a crescendo, your orgasm on the horizon and tightening your muscles into a deathgrip on his length. Spots float in Dokyeom’s vision at the squeeze and he drops his mouth to yours to lap up all your high pitched whines.

When he rises again to gasp against his own pleasure, the chain you gifted him dangles right above your lips and a nuclear bomb detonates.

You cum again with Dokyeom’s thumb under the ribbon encircling your neck, a tease of choked breath as he rubs the charm like a lifeline. Voice cracking, earth shatter, mind numb pleasure from the tip of your nose to your pinky toe.

Dokyeom is babbling over you. Rhythm abandoned as he subjected to the tight squeeze of your worn cunt until that punch to his gut hits. Each rope of cum makes his cock throb as he plows you with a deep thrust, stilling to empty himself inside you.

You're fully crushed into the itchy upholstery as his arms buckle.

“Wow,” you gasp, catching your breath.

What else can you say? A month of no touching culminating into the best sex of your life with your devastating boyfriend while he wears a chain with your name on it.

Dokyeom cackles into your collarbone, chest tickling against yours until he leans back to look at you.

His hair resembles an electrocuted poodle, his lips are red and swollen, and sweat glosses his skin in the low light. But Dokyeom is glowing with life and happiness and all the things that make the world good.

“I love you.”

Dokyeom responds with a girlish shriek at your impromptu confession.

“Damn, okay.” You laugh, staring at his bare ass as he runs a lap around the living room stark naked.

“You can’t just— I wanted to say it first!” He pouts before flopping down on top of you.

“Are you serious?” Breathless from his weight, you fail to push him off you as he flails like a fish. “Is that what you’re focusing on?”

“Yes,” Dokyeom grouches into your cheek. “You’re the first girl I’ve felt this way about and I wanted to…”

He trails off, suddenly embarrassed. Your entire relationship was many of Dokyeom’s firsts. The first person he had sex with, first college girlfriend he told his mom and sister about, and now the first girl to make him truly understand loving another person. It wasn’t something you held over his head, and some of it he didn’t even tell you about but it all tallies up in his mind how unprepared he is for it all.

“Minnie, look at me.”

You don’t speak again until he finally meets your gaze.

“I don’t even remember what we were talking about.” You sigh.

Dokyeom doesn’t catch hint, “We were talking about–”

“Nope, can’t seem to recall.”

Finally, he catches the playful pout and the way your eyes cut back his as you look around the room feigning ignorance. And because he’s Dokyeom and you’re a sucker for anything he does, you can’t stop the smile mirroring his own when softly traces the apple of your cheek with his thumb.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

---

#svthub #lee seokmin #lee seokmin x reader #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #svt #dokyeom #seokmin x reader #seokmin smut #dokyeom x reader #dokyeom smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #🫡 highvern

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ashdreams2023 · 3 months

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hello i love your blog, this may be random but can I please request avengers x reader who is an empath? also could u pls include Loki as her s/o?? 🙃🙃

Lol ok

Avengers x empath reader

you have a kind heart, they swear they know and promise it’s not a big deal how you act

Natasha is the one that always feels amused when you get all emotional over something random

Loki once saw you cry over a pigeon nest because the wind blowed it away

"Darling it will make another one later" "but it worked so hard for it! And they don’t know better…"

Everyone comes to you to rent, Tony jokes is that they should start paying you for therapy sessions

Loki doesn’t like when people don’t take you in consideration just because you’re nice and patient

Too patient at times "Dove you don’t have to put up with this just because they have a bad day!"

"It’s ok, it was just a slip, I can tell they are just frustrated with themselves, give them time to get back into their senses"

Thor thinks you’re the sweetest soul for seeing the good in Loki before anyone else could

"My brother is very…misunderstood and I am grateful he found someone as compassionate as you are"

The second you say you don’t feel right about someone new, they immediately become on the watch list

You’re one of the few people that can calm halk

"Y/N what are you doing?" "Oh I’m just booking for a rage room" "should I ask why?" "No."

Loki likes to take you out on nice dates where it’s only you two in nature, it feels more comfortable than being in crowded areas where people either step all over you or you might get distracted by someone who’s energy is not that good to be around

"Why did you give me a chance?" "Because I can tell, you’re not really a bad person"

Bruce and you go on his off day to buy ice cream and talk about his temper

Sometimes Tony would take you into interrogation rooms just to see if you tell who’s being genuine or not

Clint is very protective of you as well, he stands behind when look is not around and gives deadly glares at anyone who think they can just be nasty to you

Although you are a kind hearted person Loki likes to tease you until you get frustrated with him and show some of your anger, it’s not much but thinks it’s healthy

"Loki! Stop being annoying!" "You’re so sexy when you’re angry"

#imagine #mcu #loki laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #fanfic #mcu loki #loki/y/n #headcanon #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #avengers imagine

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bgomtori · 6 months

Text

☆ seasons - c.bg

synopsis - he was her muse, she was his solace, however what if his emotions got to him for the worst to happen?

-> inspired by the webtoon seasons of blossom, hamin's flower, a bit of dongchae's flower too if you squint :)

-> muse! beomgyu x artist! reader

-> right person not enough time, highschool au, strangers to lovers, fluff, angst with happy ending, secret relationship

-> note! rlly important,, attempted suicide, abusive parents and sh mentions so pls scroll away if youre uncomfortable. slightly ooc beomgyu. i cried at hamin's flower, i love this webtoon sm. also this is going to be more lengthier compared to my other oneshots so enjoy!!

he was rather popular among the cohort, everyone liked him. he was attractive, smart, and had an overall fun personality. everyone knew who beomgyu was, girls swooning over him, confessing their love for him. guys always hanging around him, wanting to have a chat with him every now and then. the whole school knew how cool he was, how high his reputation was, everyone liked him, there was nothing to dislike about beomgyu. that's how you know him even if you guys weren't from the same class.

you, on the other hand, were quiet, barely interacted with the people around you. you'd always stay out of drama in order to protect yourself. during breaks and lunch, you always saw yourself finding solace in the art room, chewing down on your premade lunch while painting whatever was on your mind.

first encounter ༘⋆✿

this day in particular, was one where it basically changed your life. as you mixed the paints on your palette to get a shade of your liking, the door suddenly opened. numerous thoughts rushed through your mind, did someone finally find out your hiding spot? is a teacher going to scold you for using the art room? you bit your lip, thinking of the multiple possibilities that may occur. the sound of the sliding door closing made you peek your eyes out to assess the situation, only to realise that beomgyu, the one everyone liked, was in the same room as you.

"finally, some peace, these people can't seem to stop following me around jeez." beomgyu scoffed in annoyance, grabbing the seat closest to him, plopping down on it exhaustedly. you peered at beomgyu with confusion, he doesn't seem to notice your presence just yet. you continued to hide yourself, watching him warily while he continued to grumble to himself.

just to your luck, your leg accidentally kicked the easle, causing it to drop. you mentally cursed to yourself trying to prevent the canvas from falling on the ground. beomgyu heard the chaos happening on your end, and immediately turned his head over to find the source of loud sound, only the find you panicking over the fact that you got found out.

"how long have you been in here?" beomgyu interrogated you as if you were a wanted criminal. nothing could come out of your mouth, you looked like a deer caught in headlights. beomgyu chuckled to himself, moving towards you, taking a seat beside you.

"i'm beomgyu, you?" he placed a hand out infront of you, wanting to shake your hand. you glanced at his hand, then his face, still skeptical, what if he is luring you into a trap to get caught by the teachers. unbelievable!

"i'm yn.." you mumbled, loud enough to be heard by beomgyu, taking him hand in yours, giving it a nice, and firm shake. the awkward tension filled up the atmosphere, beomgyu scratched his cheek, slightly nervous about the silence between the two of you. you sat there, eating onigiri as if he wasn't there, continuing to paint your artwork. beomgyu stared at the way you carried the brush, with each stroke, a mesmerising work of art unfolded infront of beomgyu.

"you stay here during your spare time?" beomgyu asked, sipping on the extra pack of milk he was carrying in his bag earlier. you hummed in response, "yea, this is my place to enjoy the peace and quiet." a bit of sarcasm directed towards beomgyu for interrupting your tranquility. beomgyu remained silent for a while, finishing his milk packet, placing it on one of the tables around the both of you.

"the teachers allow you in here?" beomgyu continued questioning you, he found you quite interesting for not fawning over him, and asking him stupid questions like what everyone else does. he felt safe around you despite knowing you for just a few minutes. "only my art teacher, he knows how much i enjoy drawing, so he gave me the keys to this room. only if i promised not to get caught by any teacher or student. but, you suddenly came in here, man i should have locked the door." you grumbled the last part out, in slight bitterness. however you didn't really ming beomgyu's presence as long as he doesn't go snitching on you, you were fine with it.

"then you, why did you suddenly barge in here without a warning?" it was your turn to interrogate him, usually no one found interest in the art room, so you found it suspicious. beomgyu looked nervous, was he really about to tell a girl he just got to know his secret. he pressed his lips together, forming something similar to a straight line, still hesitant. you noticed his silence, and was about to reassure him that you weren't forcing him to tell you.

"it's just that my supposed friends are practically assholes who just want popularity. i just want to get away from them." beomgyu sighed, his eyes flickering to whatever's interesting outside the window. "promise me that you tell anyone about my secret or i'll complain to the school about your special treatment in the art room." beomgyu warned, turning to face you to show how serious he was with this.

"ok, ok promise." you giggled, finding his serious look funny. beomgyu's eyebrows furrowed, "why are you laughing." you covered your mouth, preventing yourself from giggling any further.

"nothing, just found it funny." you replied, your focus going back to your uncompleted canvas. beomgyu pouted, resting cheek on the table infront of him as he continued to watch you paint the background of your artwork. "oh! right, can you model for me? i really need a reference for this piece.. i need to work on my realism, please." you pleaded beomgyu. beomgyu's eyes narrowed, reluctant to do your request, however he found himself shifting his seat to face your direction. strange. whenever his friends asked him to do something, he'd normally refuse, however he was comfortable with your requests. how odd.

"is this ok?" he asked, he rested his cheek on the palm of his hand, looking at you like a puppy wandering on the streets. you gave him a thumbs up before turning your attention back to your canvas, picking up the pencil from the table beside you. your head would occassionally pop up from the side of your canvas, peering at beomgyu's facial features, taking them in while your hands does the wonders of sketching out his pretty features. beomgyu's facial structure was perfect, paired with his soft fluffy brown hair resting neatly above his eyes. you could tell that he was growing out his hair especially with the ends of his hair touching the back of the collar of his uniform.

beomgyu watched you squint your eyes with pure concentration whenever you'd look at his features and back at your canvas to make sure they matched. he noticed the way your tongue protruding from your lips slightly, your eyes basically fired up with determination to get the details correct. he felt himself smile to himself, watching your every move.

"tell me about yourself, beomgyu. i don't want to sketch in plain silence." you suddenly requested, beomgyu was taken aback, this was the first time someone actually wanted to understand and know him as a person, and not just for his looks and academics. beomgyu licked his dry lips before opening his mouth, maybe he could trust you with this information, "hmm, you know, even if this is the first time i've ever met you. i feel like i can just be myself around you. for the first time, i don't need to have a fake persona to make a person understand me."

you felt your mouth go dry, he left you tongue tied, you didn't expect him to say something like that, you felt your heart rate accelerating– he made you feel special, important. "wow.. i didn't take you as a two-faced person." you joked with him, beomgyu sneered at your remark, feeling the tips of his ears turn red, well you weren't particularly wrong..

"how long do we have left." you asked, rushing your final detail of the sketch. beomgyu switched on his phone, flipping the screen around to show you. 5 minutes left, wow that was quick. you turned the easle towards beomgyu, showing your masterpiece.

"how is it?" you inquired proudly, you were nervous about the sudden silence coming from beomgyu's end. you slowly opened your eyes to see him taking a picture of your artwork, your eyes widened, "hey, it's not even done. don't take a picture just yet." however, beomgyu smirked at you, showing signs of not wanting to delete the picture. he slowly backed up towards the door, pausing as you looked at him in confusion.

"remember our promise ok?" beomgyu reminded, sticking out his pinky, you looked up at him, cocking your eyebrow at him, before intertwining your pinkies to lock the promise. beomgyu smiled at your gesture, "i'll see you soon." waving at you one last time before heading out of the art room. you stared at the shut door, still puzzled from what just occurred. you hurriedly packed your things before leaving the art room to go for your next class.

subsequent meetings ༘⋆✿

the door slid open again, you looked up in curiousity, only to be puzzled to see beomgyu standing there, quietly shutting the door. "you're here again?" you sighed, once again your peace was disrupted. beomgyu laughed, "can't i come here to enjoy the peace as well?" you grimaced at him, turning your head back to the canvas that was on the table, struggling to place it properly on the easle. beomgyu quickly stood behind you, leaning down to help you fix it. you felt your breath hitch, you could feel how close he was to you as he positioned the canvas perfectly for you. beomgyu took a seat beside you, his head on the table, turned towards your direction, watching you squeeze each of your desired coloured paints onto the palette.

"do you not have any other friends?, do you, well.. get outcasted or something? should i help you?" beomgyu randomly muttered out, you felt yourself pause, your head turning to face him, "what do you mean?" completely confused about what he's saying, the back of your neck feeling warm. is he assuming that you have no friends since you always hang around the art room.. beomgyu shrugged his shoulder, staring off into the distance. to beomgyu, he envied you, you get to enjoy your own solitude in the art room, away from the loud chaos happening in the main areas of the school. he's always surrounded by people, constantly blabbering in his ears about different topics that he isn't interested in, he often had to tune them out, or even cut them off to have some silence. even at home, he can't have a place where he could be alone and happy. his parents are constantly shouting, yelling at him to do better. pressurising him to constantly get good grades for every single test, even one mistake makes them go ballistic.

"i did have a friend, but she moved away 2 weeks later. i don't really socialise with the people in my class, so.." you hesitated to continue, not knowing how to complete your sentence. beomgyu smiled at you with adoration, maybe, just maybe he can find some solace within you. whenever you were painting, or just doing anything related to art, you'd look serene. beomgyu found you calming, only you could calm his nerves down that easily.

"cute." beomgyu uttered out, it slipped out of his mouth. you were stunned, a soft 'huh' left your mouth. confused, yet flustered at the same time, your cheeks warmed up at the sudden compliment. beomgyu gave you a boyish grin, straightening his back, stretching his tense muscles at the same time.

"hm, how about this, we make this our meeting place, but outside of here, pretend like we don't know each other. i don't want you to get unnecessary attention from my 'friends'." beomgyu offered, his request was odd. however, you still accepted it, you somehow enjoyed his presence around you. you've only known him for a while, but how does one already break down your walls that easily?

"that's a deal then." beomgyu smirked at you, his pinky intertwining with yours again, making another promise with you. "i'll see you around yn!" waving goodbye to you with a big smile on his face, heading out of the art room. you were slightly touched with how much he tried to create a bond with you, it was cute of him, maybe you'd actually look forward to lunch time now.

everyday, without a fail, beomgyu would enter the art room, closing the door immediately to not attract any suspicion. everyday, he entered the room, the relationship between both of you blossomed. you found yourself growly more fond of him. he felt the same way, he was drawn to you in some way or another, you weren't like the other people in school who would always stick their noses into other people's business. he knew that he could allow you into his heart. he knew that maybe it's possible to try something new with you. you had mini art lessons for beomgyu, you noticed his special talent for art, not only did was he a model student, he could draw well too, that pulled your heart strings.

in the art room, from teaching him how to paint a scenary, to conversations about each other's personal life. leaning on the edge of a table, beomgyu would subconsciously lace his fingers with yours, his head laying on your shoulder, telling you about how tiring it was to deal with his fake friends. you could only try your best to comfort him, since you didn't know exactly how he felt. his thumb would occassionally rub your knuckles, making your heart race.

despite all these secret interactions you two have, you would walk past beomgyu, not initiating any conversation with him, only glancing up at him, he would do the same, locking eyes with you, his hands intentionally rubbing past yours before walking away with his group of friends. thus, you decided to tone down your overwhelming feelings for beomgyu in order not to get too affected by it. therefore, when you saw beomgyu sitting in the art room, a tear dripping down his face, you were concerned, worried, you didn't really know what to do. so the best thing you did was pretend like you didn't notice beomgyu crying.

beomgyu noticed how flustered you were, a light-hearted giggle came out of his mouth, "i'm fine, so don't go anywhere. just stay here." upon his request, you sat infront of him, your eyes filled with concern. "why were you crying?" you asked, beomgyu looked out of the window, the afternoon glow luminating his face, his tear stained cheeks now more obvious, his damp eyelashes fluttering prettily. he was heaven-sent.

"summer break's coming, that means i'll have to attend summer school, and not be allowed to use the art room.." trailing off his words, "i also like watching you draw, so i guess that contributes to the factor." beomgyu confessed. your hands were clammy, did you hear that correctly? you felt yourself blush, cheeks warming up.

"how about during summer break you come with me to the art academy i attended for a tour?" you invited. beomgyu immediately turned to face you, the tip of his ears turning red, you practically asked him out. "sure.." he agreed, his hands quickly grabbing his phone from his pocket, typing in something quickly. he showed you his screen, contactlist. oh, he wanted your number. you took his phone from his, placing it on your lap before passing your own device to him, wanting him to give you his contact as well. both of you typed in your numbers in each other's phone before returning it back.

"i'll text you the date?" you say, tilting your head slightly. beomgyu uttered a quick, 'ok', coming down from the shelf he was conveniently sitting on. he bidded you goodbye, heading for his next, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. you turned on your phone, seeing the contact name, 'beomgyu :D' appearing on the notification board. 'i'll see you on the tour day itself :)' without knowing, you smiled to yourself, replying to his message while walking towards your classroom.

rain ༘⋆✿

maybe it was fate, maybe an invisible string was attached to the both of you to find each other. it has been a while since the day you two went out for the tour around your art academy, you've introduced him to the art studio you always go to after school. you and beomgyu made it your second hangout spot, away from everyone, only you, him, and your art director, but that didn't really matter. you two were closer than ever, telling each other about your secrets, ranting to each other about everything, basically attached by the hip.

school started again after the long summer break, the both of you went back to pretending like you didn't know about each other's existence. you ended classes earlier than him, since you were in the art stream. beomgyu on the other hand, he had lessons all the way till 4, as he was in the top class, which has more subjects compared to a normal senior year class, even if he wanted to skip lessons to spend more time with you, he can't, his parents were another issue. if his parents found out that he pulled out of his cram school, and went to your art studio with the funded money, who knows what would happen to him.

you stood near the entrance of the school's main doors, waiting for him to go to the art studio together, noticing that the sky was overcast, yet there was no wind whatsoever. the humidity and heat was getting to you, tying your hair in hopes of cooling yourself down. suddenly you felt something cold being placed at the back of your neck, you shrieked in fear, only to realise that beomgyu was standing behind you with a chilled can of pocari, placing it on the top of your head, giving it to you.

"sorry to keep you waiting." beomgyu apologised, peeping his head out of the sheltered doorway to check the weather, it was going to rain. he turned to you as you chugged down the can of pocari as if it was your last drink.

"oh? you tied your hair, huh? didn't you let it loose just now?" his eyes squinting at you, you felt flustered under his gaze, "i was waiting for you, and it was really humid, so i tied my hair!" you retorted, your lips forming into a pout. "hmm, for sure. you look cuter with your hair tied up anyways." beomgyu teased, his smirk rubbing you off. you smacked his shoulder, while he laughed at you.

just a few moments after, the sky was completely dark, droplets of rain pouring down from the sky immediately. you looked out at the sky, slightly happy about the sudden downpour, you loved the rain, it was relaxing. just listening to the sounds of rain droplets falling and hitting the concrete floor was soothing to you.

"the rain makes the summer air so much more suffocating." beomgyu grumbled beside you, about to grab his umbrella, however you stopped him. "let's go! this is the best way to feel freedom." you giggled, holding beomgyu's hand to pull him out into the rain. your bright, radiant smile made beomgyu flush, he usually hated the rain, let alone play in it, but it was different when it was with you.

"if you're going to grab onto my hand, at least do it properly." beomgyu mumbled, his fingers making it's way to intertwine with yours. "even so, this is more fun than i thought." beomgyu admitted, you beamed even more after hearing that, you hands squeezing his as you jumped into puddles, running around in the rain with him. after that fun, eventful journey, you two finally arrived at the art studio, greeting your art director with both your hairs' dripping, clothes stuck to your skin.

"oh dear! come, take some of my clothes, i'll go wash and dry these for you." the art director sighed, tossing her clothes onto the couch for you and beomgyu to change into. you burst out in laughter when you saw beomgyu, sitting on the couch, waiting for you, the clothes were too small for him. he glared at you, "shut up, sit here with me." beomgyu grumbled, patting the seat next to him, you obediently went beside him. the both of you shared the blanket, warming yourselves up.

"hmm, you know, whenever i'm with you, i get more talkative. usually i'm uncomfortable with such things, but why is it ok when i'm with you?" beomgyu said, leaning his head to his hand, looking straight into your eyes.

"oh, i hear a lot from my friends that i seem harmless." you joked, laughing to yourself, beomgyu smiled along with you, his eyes softened as he admired your pretty smile, and rosy cheeks.

"i think i know what they mean. but it's more like..." beomgyu trailed, trying to find a word to describe it.

"what? you're gonna tease me again, aren't you?" you scoffed, knowing that he loves joking around with you, he enjoyed looking at your angry look, it was cute.

"you're lovable?" your eyes widened in confusion, your cheeks flushing to a light hue a red, nothing came out of your mouth, you were speechless. beomgyu noticed your reaction, pink dusting his cheeks, the tip of his ears turning red. you laughed at him, pointing out how flustered he was.

"you make me like this yn." beomgyu pulled on his ears, in attempt to hide them, finally lifting his head up from the palm of his hand to look at your better. he inched closer to you, faces just centimeters away from one another, his mind clouded with thoughts of you, your lips, everything about you, "tell me if you hate it ok?" asking for consent.

"i don't.. hate it." you reassured him. beomgyu's lips tugged upwards before closing the gap between the two of you. you tasted like vanilla, probably from the lipbalm you were before school, he wanted more but was afriad that you would feel uncomfortable, pulling away after awhile. the kiss was short but pure. a small, 'ah' coming out of your mouth, feeling slightly disappointed that it ended.

beomgyu leaned towards you, whispering into your ear, "by the way, that was my first kiss." hearing that shocked you, he has never kissed anyone before? you were his first. "me too.." you trailed off, nervously glancing around the art studio. "it was pretty obvious." beomgyu chuckled as you turned your head towards him, your cheeks burning further, "huh how!? what do you m-"

"i'm back kids!" the art director interrupted your sentence, holding onto a basket with your uniforms. you and beomgyu turned towards her with red faces, she looked shocked and apologised, leaving your uniforms on the counter before continuing to mind her own business. the two of you turned back to each other and giggled. maybe beomgyu would start liking the rain that he had always hated.

radiant ༘⋆✿

"is everyone clear on this? this is how your art projects will be evaluated this semester." everybody groaned, the grading system was even more strict than usual. "oh right, i heard that your class chose face painting for this year's school festival. yn you're good at drawing, so you can help the others.." everyone turned to you while you blinked open your eyes, you were dead asleep. you didn't hear anything you teacher just said. your classmates laughed as your tablemate filled you in on what was happening, you came to your senses and just nodded in agreement to what your teacher said.

"perfect, class is dismissed now." you heaved a sigh of relief, saying a quick goodbye to your classmates, making your way to the art room. while walking up the flight of stairs, you overheard a group of people talking bad about beomgyu, they obviously couldn't tell that their volume was loud enough for people to eavesdrop on them. you felt a familiar presence creeping up behind you, you turned around, looking at beomgyu with concern, is this what he goes through all the time? beomgyu placed a finger on his lips, brushing past you as he made his way towards the group.

your eyes lingered on beomgyu's silhouette, worry crashes over. is he really ok with his friends talking shit about him behind his back.. your eyebrows knitted together, pulling your phone out of your skirt pocket as soon as you entered the art room.

yn★: are you ok?

beom:> : yea don't worry about me.

im almost there, wait for me yeah? read

upon hearing the door shut behind you, your head snapped towards the direction. beomgyu gave you the same old carefree smile he'd always wear on his face as if nothing happened. you walked towards him, tugging him into a hug. beomgyu was stiff but slowly melted under your touch, using his height to his advantage, he placed his chin atop of your head, his hands rubbing your back, consolling you.

"yn, you don't need to worry about me too much 'kay?" his gentle voice reassured you. maybe he was too used to it. "but if it bothers you too much, you can tell me." your head tilted up, doe eyes looking up at him. beomgyu nodded to your request, patting your head as he pulled away, how could he say no?

"right, my class is doing face painting for this years festival, and i kinda got forced into it.. so if you can, please visit us." you exclaimed, an excited smile appearing on your face. beomgyu's eyes softened, perhaps it was finally time for you to be under the limelight.

weeks flew by quickly, the school's festival was finally here. your class was bustling, each and every one of you scrambled around your class, setting up the props, and rearranging the tables. you on the other hand, was dragging a heavy bag of washable facepaints and brushes up to your class, your teacher must really enjoywatching you suffer. you were that your legs were going to fumble when you entered the class, beads of sweat trickling dowm your forehead as if you ran a marathon.

"wow, she really gave us a lot of materials, thanks for bringing them up yn!" your classmate patted your back, rummaging through the variety of brushes and paints, picking each different one up. you smiled at them, giving them a quick thumbs up, can they not tell that you basically went through hell bringing these up the stairs, this was even worse than deadlifting at a gym.

"yn! come here, help us paint our faces first before everyone else comes! we wanna be the first ones to experience your facepainting." your friend shouted for you, you went to where they were, sitting down on where you were supposedly stationed at. you carefully painted each of their requests right on their cheekbone, under their eyes. all of your classmates were amazed at your skill, you were able to draw from scratch, something they can't do.

"now do yours!" your classmate exclaimed, her phone camera placed infront of your, as if it was a mirror. you gave it some thought, finally deciding to draw a bear on your cheek, beomgyu's favourite animal, it even looks like him. you smiled to yourself, proud of your final work. you turned your cheek towards your classmates, showing it off, everyone gaped in astonishment, some giving you a thumbs up.

"ok guys, sorry to ruin your fun, but people are about to start coming here, so please get ready." your teacher coughed out to gain your attention, everyone quickly went to their station, a few grabbing the predecorated board to walk around the school to promote your class's activity. you rest your head on the palm of your hand, waiting for the students to arrive at at your classroom. multiple students came rushing in, they were excited to have their faces painted, especially by one of the best artists in the school. multiple requests were shouted at you as you tried calming them down, "one by one please.." you felt small, but you were happy that people were finally recognising your work and appreciating you as a person.

"you seriously want to do face painting?" a voice echoed through the hallways, only to be shushed by his group of friends. you recognised the brown messy hair, along with his converse shoes almost immediately. beomgyu came to see you, you smiled to yourself, your eyes darted back to the student you were still working on as he made his way towards you, his friends following behind him like minions.

"it's so cute, thank you so much yn!" the girl quickly thanked, her eyes sparkling with pure joy, admiring the art you drew on her cheek. your lips curved upwards, proud of yourself. without even realising, beomgyu had already sat infront of you, waiting for you to speak. you cleared your throat, out of pure anxiousness. "what design would you like to have?" he pondered to himself, humming while tapping his chin, "a hamster." your heart skipped a beat, it was one of your favourite pets, he even told you that you looked like a hamster before. he definitely got the inspiration from the bear on your cheek.

you dipped your paintbrush into the white paint before carefully drawing out the hamster you envisioned in your mind. beomgyu's eyes were closed, however he could feel how close your faces were, his ears turned to a slight pink shade, feeling rather flustered. "done." your soft, tender voice spoke, beomgyu's eyes opened up, staring into the mirror next to him, admiring your work of art. not long after, he got up, bidding you goodbye before leaving with his friends. you called out for the next student, giggling with them, not knowing that beomgyu's gaze was still on you, admiring the way your smile brightened up the entire room, everyone around you laughing away, having a fun time. everyone seemed to enjoy your presence, finally noticing how radiant you can be.

days after the festival, you hung out with a few new friends you made during the festival, gossiping, chatting about boys, the usual teenage stuff. of course you'd go back to the art room to meet beomgyu, however it felt different, you noticed that his usually welcoming, fun aura was replaced with a gloomy one. he tried his best to hide it from you, his signature smile appearing on his face whenever you guys talked, hugged or shared a quick kiss.

one particular evening, you were texting beomgyu like any other regular day, chatting about your day as per usual, a giddy smile stayed on your face.

yn★ : RIGHT IT WAS SO STUPID

beom:> : oh right, i have a request.

yn★ : hold on! my mum is calling for me

beom:> : if i look tired one day, can you drag me out to jump in the rain again? [deleted]

yn★ : im back

what was it that you deleted?

gyu?

hello????

you furrowed your eyebrows, beomgyu wasn't the type to leave you on delivered, this was new. you didn't know how to feel, your fingers moved faster than your mind, you closed the app, turning off your phone. you stared at the ceiling, tears pricking your eyes, is it true, is the '3 month rule' thing your friends talk about true? you sighed, wiping away the fallen teardrops before closing your eyes. maybe sleeping will remove all your problems.

it has been a long time since that happened, you felt like your relationship with beomgyu was going to fall apart, you didn't want that to happen at all, you were worried, he left you on delivered more often, even if he replied you, it was dry. you felt like a wreck. on the other hand, beomgyu felt like he was going back into the slump he was once in before he found you, this time it was worse. the unbelievably high standards his parents were setting for him, along with the physical abuse he had to endure was getting unbearable. in addition to that, beomgyu's parents limited the hours beomgyu could spend on his phone, also banning him from going out after they found out about him sneaking out to the art studio instead of cram school. they were furious, slapping him hard, ripping the drawings beomgyu drew during his freetime, shouting at him. beomgyu was tired, extremely exhausted of everything.

"gyu?" your voice suddenly sounded, the door behind him opened, beomgyu jumped in shock, he didn't expect you to be here so early. you closed the door behind you, maybe it was finally time you talked to him about this. "did you change your number?"

"no."

"was your service cut or something?"

"no."

"then what is it? at first i thought you were just busy but weeks and days turned into months, it is hard to see you in school, let alone contact you! but you said you were afraid of losing me." your words struck beomgyu like an arrow piercing through his heart, the way your voice cracked each time you uttered a word broke him, yet he didn't budge, he deserved it, that's what he felt.

"do you not feel it as well? ever since the festival, we've distanced so much, it's as if we're back to square one, like we don't know each other anymore." your tears were threatening to spill out, hitting beomgyu's chest. you were mad, but you were more upset than angry at beomgyu, what was he hiding from you.

"as we should." beomgyu mutterred out, bringing his hand to cover his face.

"what?" your mouth slightly ajar, you didn't hear that incorrectly right?

"yn, i think it's better if we just stop seeing each other, or maybe just forget about each other." beomgyu admitted, he didn't want this to end, he really didn't but he didn't want you to go through his sufferring, he wants you to have your own life without constantly worrying about him. you moved beomgyu's hand away from his face, only to realise that he was crying too. you were about to say something but the bell rung, signalling that lunch ended.

"let's go to somewhere before people see us here." you said with a hushed tone, leaving the art room, towards the stairwell nearby. beomgyu followed you closely, his lips pressed together, forming a straight line. his mind was in utter chaos right now, he just wanted to make the pain go away. the both of you sat beside each other on the staircase, waiting for everyone to go back to their classes.

"we're going to be late anyways, you can just tell your teacher you were feeling slightly unwell." you advised, beomgyu nodded his head, tilting his head down, his bangs falling over his eyes.

"im quitting the art studio to join the art academy for my entrance exam–" you took a deep breath in, noticing beomgyu's slighty shocked expression before turning away to look out the window, "so, if you want, you can join me too, then we can go to art school together." you tried staying positive, maybe after this, you and beomgyu still had a chance to see each other outside school and maybe even post highschool.

"i'm quitting art. it is just a hobby to me, i dont see any interest in taking art for college. and i.. can't rlly see you making it far with art too.." beomgyu confessed, maybe it was better for you to start hating him, rather than making you dwell over him and his well-being everytime. you looked at beomgyu with pure bitterness, you were speechless, did he really say that to you? you stood up, making beomgyu look up at you with tired eyes.

"at least i don't bottle up my feelings while making it obvious that i'm doing something i hate. you can spend your life giving up on things you like. like art and me. you coward." you grumbled, walking away from beomgyu, leaving him by the stairs. you were pissed, you quickened your pace towards the girls' bathroom, locking yourself up in the cubicle, letting out your pent up feelings. you hated this feeling, it was eating you up, maybe beomgyu had his reasons to push you away like that, but he could have just told you, why was he doing this.

beomgyu stared blankly at where you stood, he ruffled his hair in frustration, he looked down at the ground, "ah.. i really fucked up." he stared at his wrists, the past healed scars fading away, maybe if he started again, would he feel any better? beomgyu smacked his head, trying to wake himself up as he got up to return back to class.

his flower ༘⋆✿

"i think you should take up this challenge, especially since you want to enter one of the top art colleges." you teacher recommended, you took the pamphlet, scanning through the requirements. you gave it some thought, i mean of course you'd join, it'll look good on your portfolio, but whether you should take one for him.

"can i have one more?" you asked, your teacher smiled at you, handing you another piece. you thanked her and left the staff room, slowly walking back to class. you got to your seat, quickly scribbling something down on the post it you had conveniently laying around, before pasting it on the pamphlet, folding it nicely. you rushed out of your class, looking around for something or someone. luckily, you saw one of beomgyu's friend's, soobin, you knew that they were childhood friends so you could trust him with this.

"hey.. uhm, soobin, can you pass this on to beomgyu, don't tell him who it's from though." you whispered loudly, quickly handing him the folded pamphlet. soobin gave you a thumbs up, waving you a quick goodbye as he entered his classroom.

"beomgyu! something for you." soobin called out, to get beomgyu's attention. beomgyu turned to him with curiousity, taking the piece of paper from soobin's grasp. soobin dragged a chair next to him, waiting for beomgyu to read the contents. beomgyu's eyes straight away landed on the post it note that was loosely hanging on the phamplet.

'us going through this challenging period, is proof that we're trying our best to bloom, right?' it read, beomgyu took the paper, writing something down on the post it before sticking it on his journal. soobin looked at him like a meerkat, wondering what beomgyu was doing.

"oh, right, i might bring over some dinner for you later, i'll text you if i can't." soobin reminded, patting beomgyu's shoulder before leaving the classroom. beomgyu sighed, he really didn't want soobin to come over, he stared at his bandaged up wrist, as he layed his head on the table, closing his eyes for a quick nap.

beomgyu was done with everything, he was exhausted physically and mentally, if he couldn't distract himself, his mind would go haywire. this was especially hard since his screentime was only limited to an hour. the previous night, his dad finally came home after a long day of work, the smell of alcohol on his office dress shirt was loud, beomgyu was scared. his dad's footsteps came closer to his door, much to his disappointment, the door flung open.

"i heard you got back your physics paper, show it to me." beomgyu shivered at how menancing his dad sounded, he obeyed and quickly scrambled for his paper. he looked at his score, just an 80%, not perfect enough for his parents. beomgyu passed the papers to his dad, ready for the scolding of his life.

"fucking disappointment, this is what happened when you go to a bloody art studio instead of the cram school i painstakingly pay for." beomgyu's dad shouted, rage boiling throughout his veins, beomgyu's dad inched closer to beomgyu. slap, a loud, quick smack went across beomgyu's face, it was hard, beomgyu's fists trembled in fear, trying to endure the burning pain on his cheek. his dad grabbed a handful of beomgyu's hair, yanking him closer to him. beomgyu whinced in pain, tears threatening to spill out.

"if you don't stop acting like a useless piece of shit, i'll personally send you abroad." beomgyu's dad spat, tossing beomgyu onto the ground before leaving the room, slamming it shut. beomgyu leaned against his bed, staring up at the ceiling, feeling like nothing. how he wished he could text you right now, but either way, he didn't want to distrupt your sleep. beomgyu slowly got up, walking towards his study table, eyeing the sharpener blade he used to use before he was clean. like a paintbrush on a canvas, each stroke was clean, leaving behind a deep red colour each time, it was like his own artwork.

"ah.." beomgyu sighed, a tear falling out of his eye, looking at his wrist. you'd be so disappointed in him if you ever found out. he quickly took the bandage wraps that were in his drawer, wrapping it around his fresh wounds. beomgyu rubbed his eyes, plopping onto his bed, staring at his wallpaper, a picture your took of a cat on his phone, how he wished things would go back to how it used to be.

back to the present, school ended, students rushed out of their classroom, either wanting to hang out with their friends or to go home to rest. beomgyu knew that his father was home, he knew that he'd be back for another beating, he really didn't want to go home. he slowly packed his things, throwing his bag over his shoulder, proceeding towards his lockers. looking up, he saw you, smiling with your new friends, laughing at one another's jokes. as much as he wanted to run towards you, and bring back past memories, he couldn't he can't hurt you anymore.

beomgyu quickly walked past you, making his way back home. you noticed his familiar scent, you turned around to his direction, your smile faltering, you missed him so much, yet you couldn't bring yourself to text him. "yn? are you going to come?" your friend shook you out of your trance. you jolted at the sudden touch, "yea."

"i'm home." beomgyu announced, closing the front door, removing his shoes. he heard the television playing, dim lights, along with the strong smell of cigerattes and alcohol. not again.. beomgyu's eyebrows furrowed, he didn't want to deal with this again.

"choi beomgyu." beomgyu groaned internally at his name being called, his father looked mad, filled with rage, beomgyu knew he was fucked. "what's with your attitude in school now? the teacher called in saying that you've been sleeping in class more recently, is this how you fucking repay me? is this why you wanted to go to this neighbourhood school? to rebel against your parents?" beomgyu's dad continued rambling, moving closer towards beomgyu, his presence was horrifying, beomgyu felt his blood run cold. it all happened in the matter of seconds, beomgyu's face was now burning, he hissed in pain, holding onto his cheek, looking up at his dad who was staring down at him like he was an abandoned dog.

"pathetic. fucking pathetic. i wished i never had a son like you." beomgyu's dad spat, storming out of the house, probably out to go to the neighbourhood bar to party with his middle aged friends. beomgyu flinched when the door slammed shut, he sat on the ground, wiping off the blood on the side of his mouth. the taste of iron disgusted him, he got up onto his feet, walking into his room. he took out the journal he hid from his parents, the journal that he used to write about things he want to say to you. beomgyu flipped to the paragraph he wrote, rereading it, making sure that there were no flaws.

beomgyu laughed to himself, tears spilling out of his eyes, if his dad didn't even want him around, he might as well make that dream a reality. beomgyu wrote out one last line, before running out of the house, towards the apartment buildings nearby the school. the sky was overcast, dark grey clouds covering the sunrays, a few drops of raindrops fell on beomgyu as he brisk walked towards his desired location.

he trudged past the art studio, his eyes flickering into the studio, hoping that you were there, but who was he kidding, you left the studio to go to the art academy. however, the art director noticed him, shouting for him to get inside or he'll get rained on. beomgyu turned around, his look shocked the art director, he looked helpless, beomgyu bowed to the art director, before going off on his own.

"beomgyu! i have my mum's food here for dinner." soobin shouted, leaving the food on the kitchen counter. realising that there was no response, soobin was confused, maybe beomgyu was taking a nap. he entered beomgyu's room quietly, his eyes widening when he realised beomgyu wasn't anywhere to be found. his phone left on the table, the only thing that caught soobin's attention was the open journal left on beomgyu's desk, a long paragraph written on it. soobin read the content within that paragraph, panicking, soobin's mind was racing, 'fuck' repeating in his mind.

the letter read, 'i felt like i dreamt a very sweet, and awfully bitter dream, because the first moment i saw you combined with all the fleeting moments we spent together were too dazzling for me. you were always radiant. i hoped that only i would be the one to see your light. but others soon caught sight of it. and that's around when i realized something, i hadn't known when i'd been in the dark, the existence of my ugly shadow. the closer it got to the light, the thicker it became and the more it clung to me. so, i couldn't help but hide in the darkness again. i knew you would be hurt, but as you said i was a coward. i knew that you'd always stay with me through thick and thin, and that scared me, my problems would ultimately hurt you in the end either way. i knew how it would feel all too well. i was so used to giving up the things i liked that i thought i'd be okay again soon, just like always. i thought that all i had to do was to return to the way things were before i'd met you. that's what i thought, endless waves of self-hatred, a sense of helplessness, emptiness, loss, and absence. longing for the light, i'd already become accustomed to your warmth. but that short time with you had been the only moment I could be completely myself. thank you for being with me during my most radiant moment yn :)'

soobin unlocked beomgyu's phone, luckily he knew his phone password, he found your number, typing it down onto his own phone, dialing the number. soobin grabbed the journal, along with beomgyu's phone, running out of the house. on your end, you were suspicious on why the same number kept calling you, you were annoyed, the weather was perfect for a nap but it was distrupted by an endless string of phonecalls. you picked up your phone, immediately you heard a sigh of relief, along with a shaky panicky voice.

"you're yn right? please can you meet me at the convenience store nearby please, it's really urgent." soobin pleaded, his voice sounded like he was going to breakdown anytime soon. you were worried, what was exactly going on, why was beomgyu's childhood friend calling you?

"i'll come down soon, what is this about may i ask?" you questioned, grabbing your keys and wallet. "please hurry, run, i don't care, beomgyu's life is on the line. please yn.." soobin answered, shouting into his phone, he didn't want to waste anymore time, he started asking near passerbys about the whereabouts about beomgyu. your eyes widened, beomgyu? you dashed out of you house, yelling a quick goodbye to your mother.

"yn? it's raining take an umbrella-" the door was slammed shut, you tried calling beomgyu's phone, no response. the rain came pouring down, you were soaked in the salty rain. you ran towards the convenience store near your school, only to see soobin conversing with your art director.

"soobin!" you shouted, eyes filled with panic. soobin thanked your art director, you were confused, what were they talking about? "let's go, the apartments, your art director assumed that he might be there since she saw him headed towards that direction." soobin ordered, running. you ran along with him, taking notice of the plastic bag he was holding. it felt like forever, you were panting, gasping for air. the atmosphere was thick, both you and soobin were drenched.

"you take the elevator, i'll take the stairs." soobin said with a stern look, sprinting up the stairs. you pressed on the elevator button that closes the door multiple times, in hopes that it'll be faster. as soon as you reached the rooftop, you bolted out of the elevator, towards the two dark figures you saw in the distance. you begged your legs to hurry up when you saw beomgyu stick his leg out, risking it all. soobin's eyes widened, his hands reaching out for beomgyu, however..

"beomgyu!" you sped past soobin, reaching out to beomgyu first. half of your body was over the ledge, soobin grabbed onto the lowerhalf of your body, making sure that you wouldn't accidentally fall over. beomgyu looked up to see your desperate look, tears falling out of your eyes.

"do you really want to die that badly gyu? there's many other ways you can do this you know." you choked out, sobbing harder. beomgyu felt guilty, he looked down, realising how high it was.

"i don't want to die, but.. i'm more afraid of living under these circumstances." beomgyu managed to utter out, his voice muffled by the sound of rain hitting the surface below you.

"you know how proud i am for you that you're able to make it this far? i know how tough your situation is at home, but if you leave like this, you'll leave behind those who actually care for you. if you don't know how to love yourself, i'll teach you how. if you only know how to hurt yourself, i'll care for you! no matter how much life sucks, you need to stay alive, do the things you love, and come back to me. please beomgyu, give me another chance to care for you again!" you shouted, tears spewing out of your eyes, dripping on beomgyu's wet face, beomgyu felt himself whince, seeing you in such a state pained him.

beomgyu's hand reached out for yours, you turned around, giving soobin the signal to pull you two up. all three of you fell on the ground, you and soobin panting hard for oxygen. beomgyu stared at the sky, the salty raindrops falling on his face, his eyes red from all the crying. he then felt himself getting picked up from the ground, only to be embraced by your warmth.

"you fucking idiot, don't scare us again." soobin cursed out, his nose red from crying earlier, sniffling loudly. beomgyu chuckled at soobin's reaction, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. he missed this comforting, warm embrace of yours. constant apologies came out of beomgyu's mouth, trying to calm you down from this whole incident.

"please, never do that again." your puffy eyes and runny nose made beomgyu laugh, his hands wiping the tear rolling down your cheek. "oh right soobin, what's that in the plastic bag." beomgyu asked, pointing towards the wet bag. "oh it's the notebook i found on your desk, and your phone. also is this notebook some love confession book for yn or something." soobin blabbered, his lips curling up to a smirk. your head turned towards soobin quickly, accidentally knocking into beomgyu's chin.

"shut up, i use that book to write down stuff i want to tell yn." beomgyu admitted, averting your eyes, "guess i'll give it to your as an apology.." beomgyu pouted. you smiled at him, teasing him slightly.

"beomgyu, if you need a place to stay for awhile, you should stay at mine, my parents won't snitch. in the meantime, we can file a lawsuit against your parents." soobin advised, beomgyu gulped at his words, suing his own parents? he didn't want to since well they're his parents afterall, but after all he has been through, he nodded his head, standing up from the wet slippery ground.

"let's go back to the art studio to dry up first, just like the first time." you grinned at beomgyu, dragging him along with you. soobin grumbled behind you two about how he has to thirdwheel you two now. the three of you laughed, making your way to the art studio, the sun now out, shining brightly around your surroundings, glowly radiantly in the sky. this may be the most eventful summer you've ever experienced.

end ༘⋆✿

author's note: sorry if this is super long, and for the bad english. but i hope you enjoyed!!

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