#or indeed that neither of us *wanted* to be
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𝐍𝐎. 𝟔 ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜ | NAKAWE PALACE, AUGUST 1991
❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.
❛ In the premier’s sitting room, Beatriz’s memories transported her back to a formative childhood moment. Her education began early, as was customary, but the distance between Canarís and Nakawe in those days meant she didn’t shadow the king himself until later. She was instead inseparable from her father, observing the birthright governorship that the men of Uspana’s assembly would deny her some years later. Still, her memory of Fernando was strong—a perfect jester of a grandfather, energetic and jovial. He was unlike her father in many ways, but they had both been paternal men. Beatriz believed to this day that her papa was the best father in the world, and she regretted that he hadn’t lived to become a jovial grandfather, too. Of course, the most notable difference was her grandfather’s effectiveness. Liberal pens rewrote history in the succeeding decades, but Beatriz remembered that fact well.
❧ ran out of time but didn't want to postpone so i kinda totally 100% phoned this one in dsfsdfjk BUT nando cameo !!!!! grandpa !!!!! uses the phrase "people of means" unironically !!!!! love him, can't wait to go back to the 1930s someday
𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓
The room belonged to Hernan Perdignon when Beatriz entered it for the first time. Fernando had disliked him on ideological grounds, and Alfonso respected him for his principles, but it had been neither that led to his being gunned down in a public market midway through his first term. The Depression ground down everyone. Even Beatriz recalled those as lean years—if, primarily, because her father’s guilt made him insist their household behave as if though its purse shrunk along with everyone else’s. It did, but not in a way they felt. Her mother’s ongoing spending, the very spectacle of it, proved as much. Meanwhile, Alfonso insisted they buy only food without import taxes and pay for cheap fabric at the market. It didn’t matter that the bolts went from the weaver’s mangled hands into those of better paid seamstresses and tailors. Her father reduced their estate’s livestock by half, but they didn’t have to take them out back and slaughter them to do it.
Before they departed for the meeting at Nakawe Palace, her grandfather had knelt down to give her instructions with uncharacteristic seriousness. Neither her grandparents nor her parents ever lived at Nakawe Palace itself. They rode over, whether in a carriage, a chauffeured town car, or one of her mother’s sleek, dangerous roadsters. When she could drive herself, Beatriz visited in a doorless military issue four-by-four. A black sedan was to Fernando’s back on this day as he explained that he wanted her to stand perfectly quiet and still, doll-like, while he talked to the premier. It wasn’t just a matter of being well-behaved. ‘Stare him down,’ Fernando intoned. ‘Don’t look away for a minute. If he looks at you, don’t back down. Keep him in a fixed gaze, and keep your ears open.’ She’d asked, confused, ‘Open?’ and prompted a laugh from him. ‘Listen to us, Bird. Listen like you listen to your papa.’ That, she knew could do.
Perdignon laughed, deep and good-natured, when he saw her stroll into the room ahead of the king. That was the desired effect, and Fernando assured him with a wink that six year old Beatriz could conduct a meeting with a politician just as well as anyone else. Indeed, the premier noted she was a somber child. She stood like a sentry at the edge of the king’s chosen sofa, her hands clasped, the maturity of her comportment undermined only by the girlish ribbons in her hair. Most of the conversation went over her head, and that was fine. She focused as best she could on what her grandfather had requested: although at times distracted by a bird in the window, a vase on a shelf, the movement of aides just beyond the room’s open door, she stared hard at Perdignon’s expressive face while the men conversed. Like their spirited debate about economics, the reason Fernando had asked this of her was beyond her grasp at the time. She only understood later what it accomplished—in the tense quiet between barbed words, when the king’s expectant challenges went unmet, when the premier fell silent in resignation. Perdignon found the attentive audience in miniature charming. As the meeting dragged on, though, he found it unsettling.
There was an art to it, to unsettling and intimidating and domination. It demanded subtlety. Although some pretended to forget, her ancestors had known that and passed the wisdom down. It was the warm bath that became a boiling pot. It was a gentle touch. It was an unexpectedly stifling room, an uninvited guest, inexplicable body language, threats delivered with luxurious kindness. Beatriz could browbeat and curse when it suited her. In fact, that’s what she loved. Neither her stature nor her pedigree suggested as much, which became its own kind of unsettling. Still, she approached her work more often as a strategist rather than with self-indulgence. She learned early and well that her claim to dominion—her queenhood, her king’s crown—rested on precision and finesse just as much as the very real force underwriting it.
Eladio Guillen’s sitting room was worlds away from the one that had belonged to Hernan Perdignon. Much of the decorations remained unchanged in the six intervening decades, but this was a different time and place. This was, too, a different premier. Unlike Perdignon, Guillen wouldn’t be lionized for his devotion to the nation. His aspirations were not grand; by Beatriz’s measure, they were small and petty, which made him more susceptible to precision, finesse, and force alike. It was her prerogative to choose a premier from among the winning coalition’s candidates, and she had chosen him for that very reason. Her mind wandered to a memory of instruction, but it was only because Guillen failed to maintain her attention. There was no real need for strategy today. He talked about nothing, meandering and wandering. Beatriz was a shepherd. He was a chicken, headless.
Beatriz refocused herself soon enough, crossing her ankles as she interrupted Guillen to state, “Arnaut was here yesterday. Was it productive?”
Guillen readjusted as well, leaning back into the cushion with a sigh. They regarded each other as he thought through his response. “Well,” he began, meeting Beatriz’s sharp eyes. “It’s a good kind of sentimental, what you all are trying to do for my late princess. Believe me.” The queen prompted him to continue with a raise of her eyebrows. “Still, I was skeptical when she was pitching it herself, and she was a much better communicator than my prince. He’s just all over the place and nowhere at the same time, I hear. Hard to find a mess he hasn’t stepped in.”
Beatriz’s expression remained unchanged as she listened. There were no surprises in Guillen’s report; his were words she could have just as easily said herself—and, whether casually or in frustration, likely had. Yet, it roiled her to hear them from him. She could imagine the meeting, and she could envision Guillen’s smirking face as Arnaut made a show of his inexperience. There was no trace of amusement as he sat before her now, but she found his apologetic demeanor just as rankling.
Maintaining an even tone, she followed up with, “What do you want, Guillen?”
“What?” He sounded surprised—or, she thought, feigned it.
“What do you want?” she repeated, leaning forward. “Do you have strong feelings about higher education? Do you want to humiliate my son? Is it completely irrelevant to you and just … 'weighing interests'?” That was Guillen’s terminology. He ferried it from his corporate background into the premiership, and now it cropped up time and time again in meetings Beatriz had to endure. This vague, euphemistic bandage encapsulated his politics well. Likewise, it had infected underlings, admirers, and enemies indiscriminately.
“It has nothing to do with him, my queen,” Guillen protested.
Beatriz shrugged. “Perhaps that’s how I heard it.”
However feebly, the premier was determined to defend himself. It seemed apparent to him that he had hit a nerve, even as the queen performed nonchalance. He hadn’t addressed her other suppositions. In a way, that didn’t matter. They both knew he had no abiding interest in this particular arena of policy. His mind, when it went into the weeds, entertained more attractive prospects like free trade and technological innovation. Even then, the name of the game was weighing interests. The outlier was pointed, almost as sharp as if she’d jabbed him with a pin: had he humiliated her son? It wasn’t his place to clarify that someone else had done it, actually, and he had only piled on by letting it happen in his presence. Perhaps that had been ill-advised, he wondered now. Still, it wasn’t often in the course of his business that someone’s mother checked their work. He was unsure how to handle it.
“That may be,” he conceded with a short sigh “But, I didn’t mean that.”
Beatriz sniffed. “You said what you said, and that tells me something.” She paused, and Guillen straightened in anticipation. “I don’t need you to respect my son. That’s his concern. What I need is for you to work with him. These are not playdates or sentiments. For this project, he is my emissary. His work is the Crown’s work. And, for the Crown to work with your work … Well. Do you understand me?”
This, Guillen understood all too well. It was almost all he understood.
TRANSCRIPT:
[Premier talking]
BEATRIZ | Arnaut was here yesterday. Was it productive?
GUILLEN | It’s a good kind of sentimental, what you all are trying to do for my late princess. Believe me.
GUILLEN | Still, I was skeptical when she was pitching it herself, and she was a much better communicator than my prince. He’s just all over the place and nowhere at the same time, I hear. Hard to find a mess he hasn’t stepped in.
BEATRIZ | What do you want, Guillen?
GUILLEN | What?
BEATRIZ | What do you want? Do you have strong feelings about higher education? Do you want to humiliate my son? Is it completely irrelevant to you and just … "weighing interests"?
GUILLEN | It has nothing to do with him, my queen.
BEATRIZ | Perhaps that's how I heard it.
GUILLEN | That may be. But, I didn't mean that.
BEATRIZ | You said what you said, and that tells me something. I don’t need you to respect my son. That’s his concern. What I need is for you to work with him. These are not playdates or sentiments. For this project, he is my emissary. His work is the Crown’s work. And, for the Crown to work with your work … Well.
BEATRIZ | Do you understand me?
GUILLEN | Of course, my queen. I'll call him soon. Why don’t we return to the matter at hand? Pending bill forty-seven and excluding the Armorica provision, as you requested—
BRISIDA | The Canarís location? You’re sure?
[Door opening]
??? | He requested the number. They do have a good auction there. We have a fax of the purchasing arrangement proposal, if you need it—company policy. It’ll be signed at the sale next week, I believe.
BRISIDA | What day?
??? | Tuesday morning. Ten o’clock, if they’re punctual.
BRISIDA | Great. Nothing further; just let it proceed. Thank you.
??? | Our pleasure. Please give my queen our warmest wishes.
BRISIDA | Uh huh. Goodbye.
BEATRIZ | The surveillance order?
BRISIDA | Just needs those details and your signature.
BEATRIZ | Always on top of things. Good.
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seed moon fest snippets
Sometimes you just have to admit defeat and say that a story simply isn't going to be finished 😂 Anyway, here's my attempt at knocking Remus up for my own informal fest. It's nearly 3K words of unedited nonsense and unfinished scenes that was supposed to be a much longer fic that spanned all of OOTP.
Someone else with more brain cells than me should definitely knock Remus up during OOTP properly, as he deserves. Until then, enjoy this fragmented chaos:
---
September 1995
“We need to talk,” Remus says as he unwinds his scarf.
“The last time you said that to me, you wanted a divorce.” Sirius helps him out of his cloak and hangs it on the rack.
The corner of Remus’s mouth quirks. “Can’t exactly divorce you twice, can I?”
“I suppose not.” Sirius examines him. “You look a bit peaky.”
“Yes, that’s what--”
“Lupin! Black!” Kingsley’s voice carries up the stairs. “Order meeting!”
Sirius sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Duty calls. You can divorce me again after the meeting.”
***
Dumbledore hands out assignments at the end of the meeting--guard duty for everyone except Sirius and Remus, as usual. Sirius is ordered to stay in the house, and Remus is assigned to another werewolf pack, this time in Poland.
“No,” Remus says, and the whole room goes silent.
“Remus,” Dumbledore says after a moment, “you are the only member of the Order who is able to infiltrate the packs, and need I remind you of the importance of--”
“Yes, I’m aware of the importance of my missions,” Remus says dryly. “Given how successful they were in the first war, I understand why you want me to repeat them. The answer is still no. I will not be infiltrating any wolf packs for the foreseeable future, and Severus, I will no longer require Wolfsbane from you.”
“Remus,” Sirius protests, “you can’t--”
“I can,” Remus says forcefully.
“But this is your health we’re talking about!”
“Lupin’s no use to us if he won’t perform his missions as instructed,” Snape says. “Of course I’ll no longer be providing Wolfsbane to someone who refuses to make a contribution to the cause.”
“I don’t understand why,” Molly begins.
“Neither do I,” Sirius says.
“Remus, if you could enlighten us--”
“Sonorus!” Remus shouts, pointing his wand at his stomach.
A steady thud thud thud fills the room, and it takes Sirius several seconds to realize that the heartbeat isn’t Remus’s.
“Oh, Merlin,” he breathes as eyes widen around the table.
A flurry of emotions flash across Dumbledore’s face--anger, disappointment, resignation. He settles on grim. “You intend to keep the baby, then, Mr. Lupin?”
Remus flinches slightly, but he holds Dumbledore’s gaze. “Yes.”
“Very well. Your services are indeed no longer required, and Severus will no longer provide you with Wolfsbane for the moon.”
“You can’t fucking do that!” Sirius shouts at Dumbledore. “Just because he’s physically unable to be your puppet-”
“It’s poisonous to the baby,” Remus says quietly, and Sirius’s mouth snaps shut. “Wolfsbane, I mean. I can’t take it while I’m--while I’m pregnant.”
***
Dumbledore ends the meeting after that. Thankfully sensing that Sirius and Remus have a lot to talk about, the rest of the members file out of the kitchen quickly, leaving them alone.
“So,” Sirius says after a moment. “Is it, er--”
“Yes, Sirius,” Remus says tiredly. “It’s yours.”
“Oh, good,” Sirius says, and then quickly adds, “Not that it would have been a problem if it wasn’t! Obviously, you were allowed to have a life these past thirteen years, and--”
Remus kisses him. “Shut up.”
“So, er, in June…”
“Yes. We could blame it on Dumbledore, really. He’s the one who sent you to me after the Task.”
“Oh, Merlin.” Sirius passes a hand over his eyes, shaking with silent laughter. “That would go over well, after tonight.”
Remus smiles briefly, but it quickly drops from his face. “I didn't mean to break the news like this, and I know I made the decision without even speaking to you, but--”
“Remus,” Sirius says, “it’s fine, really. I mean, Merlin, a baby. Of course I wasn’t expecting it, but I think it’s great.”
“Do you?”
“Yes. I mean, it’s also insane. I’m still a convict who isn’t allowed to leave the most heavily-warded house in Britain, which also happens to be the headquarters for a secret organization fighting the darkest wizard of our time, and you’re a werewolf living through an era of unprecedented anti-lycanthropic legislation. This is madness, and yet, I’m thrilled.”
Remus bites his lip. “Can we do this?”
“Yes.” Sirius reaches for his hand. “We can do this. I used Crookshanks to access my vaults last year, and I can do it again. We won’t hurt for gold. This is the safest house in Britain, so you’ll move in here permanently. We’ll have nine months to make it, er, baby-proof, but yes we can do this. We will do this.”
“Six months.”
“What?”
“I’m twelve weeks along, so we have roughly six months to get everything ready, although the baby might decide to make an early appearance.”
Sirius grins. “Six months it is. I like a challenge.”
“You’re taking this rather well.”
Sirius shrugs. “Always wanted to have a baby with you.”
“What?”
“If we raise the baby here, we’re taking Harry in as well,” Sirius goes on, as if he hadn’t just said something earth-shattering. “I’m not going to send him to his relatives for another summer, and then raise another child simply because they’re my blood.”
“I agree,” Remus says. “But you--want this? You’ve wanted this?”
“Wouldn’t have gone about it like this, but yeah.” Sirius’s lips quirk. “Next time, we’ll do it after I clear my name and we’re living somewhere that isn’t a house full of dark objects.”
“What do you mean, next time?”
***
“Sirius, where’s Kreacher?”
“Hogwarts,” Sirius says, and Remus blinks at him.
“Hogwarts?”
“I’m not having him in this house once the baby arrives.” Sirius resumes his scrubbing, though perhaps with more force than is called for. “I grew up with that elf, and I won’t have the baby do the same. I won’t put them through that.”
“Oh, Sirius.”
“And I wasn’t going to behead him like my dear old mother would have, so sending him to work in the kitchens at Hogwarts seemed like the best solution.”
“That was kind of you.”
***
“Well?” Remus asks, holding out his arms. “What do you think?”
Sirius circles him, examining the outfit.
“It’ll do,” he finally declares.
“It’ll do? I should hope so! This one alone costs more than I made in a year at Hogwarts.” Sirius had insisted on buying him a whole new wardrobe as soon as Remus started having difficulty fitting into his usual clothes. He’ll have to buy Remus new clothes every few weeks now as Remus increases in size, and doesn’t seem to see an issue with that.
***
December 1995
“Remus is still staying here,” Sirius says, “and, er, there’s something you should know before you see him.”
Fred and George give him twin glares that could kill, and Sirius can’t blame them--their father might be dying, might be dead already, and Sirius wants to talk about one of their former professors? But Harry looks inquisitive, so Sirius plunges on. “He’s going to look a bit different when you see him. He’s, er, pregnant, and he's pretty far along."
“Pregnant!” Ron blurts, while everyone else stares at Sirius in shock.
“You’re the other father, then,” Ginny says, and she doesn’t sound surprised at all.
“Are you?” Harry demands.
“I am,” Sirius says. “It…wasn’t planned, to say the least.”
Remus comes into the basement kitchen as Molly and Sirius are in the middle of making breakfast, and he does a double-take at the number of people who have appeared in the house overnight.
“Fill Remus in, Harry, won’t you?” Sirius asks over his shoulder as he prods at the bacon.
He listens as Harry recounts the events of the previous night. At the end, Harry adds, “And Sirius told us about the baby, so, er, congratulations, Professor.”
“Thank you, Harry.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl, Professor?” Ginny asks.
“No, we want it to be a surprise.”
Now that Arthur’s out of danger, his children are more than happy to pepper Remus with questions about the baby. He patiently answers all of them while they eat breakfast, and even lets Ginny feel the baby kick when she asks. They’re always more active after a meal.
After breakfast, the kids go off to nap, except for Harry, who lingers in the kitchen with Sirius and Remus.
“Where’s the baby going to stay after they’re born?”
“Here, with us,” Sirius says. “Remus has already moved in, and we’re turning one of the guest bedrooms into a nursery.”
Harry nods. “I’m really happy for you.”
“Harry,” Remus says gently. “There’s a place for you here, too.”
“Oh, I didn’t mean--”
“I know you didn’t, but we want you to know that.”
“I don’t have to go back to the Dursleys?”
“Dumbledore will want you to, and he’ll probably try to force you to go,” Sirius says. “If I have to kidnap you from Kings Cross myself, I will. We’re not letting you go back.”
“As long as that’s alright with you, of course,” Remus says. “It won’t be easy, living with a newborn.”
“Anything is better than the Dursleys,” Harry says fervently, and then he throws himself into Sirius’s arms. “Thank you.”
***
Pregnancy seems to calm the wolf, a side effect Remus hadn’t been expecting. He still prefers moons where he can take Wolfsbane, but at least these transformations aren’t traumatic without it. He still sometimes dislocates a joint or breaks a bone during the transformation itself, but Sirius tells him that while he’s the wolf, all he does is nest and sleep.
Moony has decided that the Black family library is the perfect place to build his nest, and he spends each moon gathering items from around the house and dragging them to the library. So far, he’s confiscated all the couch cushions, every blanket that had been moldering in a wardrobe, and three of Sirius’s cloaks.
***
Remus’s labor begins on a sunny Tuesday shortly after lunch, and he stays in early labor well into the night. He’s able to go about his day mostly as normal, despite the increasing discomfort.
That changes in the early hours of the morning, when he grips Sirius’s arm hard enough to bruise and grits out, “Get Molly.”
Their birth plan isn’t much of one--they’ve been relying on Sirius’s years-old Healer training and whatever books they can lay their hands on. They can’t risk telling anyone about the baby who wasn’t at that initial Order meeting, not even Poppy. Molly has helped two wix friends through their own pregnancies, so she’s the closest thing to an obstetrician that they have.
She helps keep Remus comfortable, checks to see how dilated he is, and coaches him on when to push. She makes sure Sirius is actively involved as well, and he’s the one to catch their son as Remus pushes him into the world.
“Oh, fuck,” Remus wheezes as Sirius cradles the infant in his hands, tears coursing down his cheeks. “Oh, fuck, I am never doing that again.”
The baby starts to wail in earnest, and Sirius laughs, giddy and relieved and so fucking terrified. Molly helps Remus with the after birth, and then Sirius lays the baby on his chest.
“Still think he’s a Teddy?” Sirius asks softly while Remus cuddles the baby close. He presses his nose to the top of the baby’s head and breathes.
“Yes,” Remus says finally. “He’s definitely a Teddy.”
***
Harry knocks on McGonagall’s office door precisely at eight, and it swings open immediately.
“Mr. Potter, come in,” she says. “Have a seat.”
He sits in front of her desk, wondering what task she’ll assign him for detention tonight. Scrubbing all the toilets on the fifth floor with a toothbrush, probably. At least it won’t be lines with a blood quill, he thinks as he massages his hand absently.
“I have a message for you,” McGonagall says.
“Right,” Harry says, blinking at her. A message? He’s here for detention.
“Edward John Lupin-Black was born at five-thirty this morning. Professor Lupin is doing well, and your godfather is beside himself with happiness.”
“Oh.” Harry blinks, absorbing this. “Remus had the baby?”
“He did,” McGonagall says, and there’s a ghost of a smile on her lips. “I’m sorry for the ruse, but serving you a detention seemed the best way to get this message to you. I was summoned to Headquarters for a meeting this afternoon, which is how I learned about the baby. Mr. Black also wanted me to convey to you that he’s looking forward to seeing you this summer, and that he loves you.”
***
June 1996
The kitchen door bursts open and Sirius hurries in, his wand in one hand. He has a crying bundle in the crook of his other arm, and for a moment all the thoughts flee Harry’s brain.
“Harry? What’s going on, what’s wrong?”
“Teddy?” Harry blurts.
Sirius holsters his wand and kneels before the fire, adjusting the baby in his arms. For a moment, the sight of Harry’s floating head distracts the baby, and he stops his wailing.
“Where are you Flooing from?”
“McGonagall’s office,” Harry says, jolted back to reality by the question. “Sirius, I thought--I saw--you were being tortured! Voldemort kidnapped you, and he was holding you somewhere, and--”
“Harry, breathe,” Sirius said. “It must have been another vision. I’m safe; we all are.”
“My other visions have been real,” Harry says--hesitantly, because he wants to believe this is Sirius in front of him. “Mr. Weasley did get attacked, and that old man really did die.”
“I know,” Sirius says, “but we already know that Voldemort can get into your mind, and that Snape never completed your Legilimancy lessons. That means that Voldemort can plant visions in your head, ones that aren’t real and never happened.”
“Sirius?” Remus comes into the kitchen, knuckling sleep out of his eyes. He freezes when he sees Harry’s head in the fire. “What’s going on? Harry, are you alright?”
Harry explains the night’s events as quickly as he can. He doesn’t know how much longer he has before he’s discovered.
“You should come through, Harry,” Remus says when he finishes. “If Voldemort is giving you visions at Hogwarts, you clearly aren’t safe there and there’s no point in you staying.”
“But what if this isn’t real?” Harry demands. “What if this is the vision?”
“Voldemort doesn’t know about Teddy,” Remus says. “Unless you think Professor McGonagall is a spy, then we’re the only ones who know about the baby. This can’t be a vision that Voldemort has planted in your head, because you know details he doesn’t. This is real, Harry.”
Remus has a point, and none of his visions have ever been this vivid. Harry ducks back into McGonagall’s office for another handful of Floo powder, and then steps fully into the fireplace.
“Hi,” Harry says, and he barely has the word out before Sirius engulfs him in a hug.
“Hi, Haz,” he says into Harry’s hair. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I’m sorry you were so worried.”
“It’s not your fault.” Harry pulls away. “Can I--”
“Of course.” Remus adjusts the bundle in his arms so Harry can see the baby. “Meet Teddy. Teddy, this is Harry. He’s going to be living here with us, too.”
“Hi, Teddy,” Harry whispers. He reaches out a hand, and when no one stops him, touches Teddy’s cheek. “I’m--”
“You brother,” Sirius says, laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “This is your brother, Teddy.”
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day 21 ; spitroasting
↠ roronoa zoro x reader x vinsmoke sanji
fandom: one piece
word count: 2.1k
warnings: nsfw 18+, caught in the act, jealous!zoro, possessiveness, spanking, praise, blowjob, face fucking, gagging, fingering, rough sex, unprotected sex, squirting, overstimulation, cum marking, cum eating, creampie, aftercare, some unintentional homoerotic subtext if you squint
kinktober m.list || read on ao3
Grunts and skin slapping together are the only sounds in the room as Zoro fucks into you from behind.
Your arrangement with him was as simple as it could be, whenever the two of you were stressed, and whenever the other crew members were occupied, you would fuck. It was a lot easier than trying to pick up strangers from whatever bar you could find everytime you guys docked at a new town. The last time that happened, you may or may not have brought back someone that had a hidden vendetta against Luffy, and it resulted in yet another fight aboard the Going Merry.
Oh well. Mistakes happen.
You moan into the pillow beneath you, doing your best to conceal your sounds of pleasure. You were in Zoro’s bed, as all of the crew were out exploring the newest town
Despite that fact, it never hurts to be too careful.
And indeed, you were right. Because not even a minute later, you hear the door to the men’s quarters open and you gasp in surprise. You involuntarily clench around Zoro, making him hiss as you both turn to see who walked in.
Sanji stands in the doorway, jaw dropped and suit jacket halfway off his body.
Zoro turns to maneuver the bed sheets in a way that covers your body from Sanji’s eyes. You could tell that the cook was staring at you, just by the way his eyes completely avoid your gaze and he looks upward as a blush rises to his cheeks. He looks cuter than ever in that moment, and maybe it's because you have a dick inside of you at that very moment, but you desperately want to fuck him to see what other reactions you can get out of him.
“The fuck are you looking at?” Zoro growls out. The hand that was splayed across your hip tightens in anger the longer Sanji stands there. “Fucking scram.”
You could tell by his initial embarrassment that Sanji was planning on leaving, but Zoro’s reaction has him heated up, and you know that neither of them will let the other have the last word.
You roll your eyes and get settled in, waiting for the argument to begin.
Sanji tsks at Zoro, crossing his arms and shaking his head. “Putting her in such a degrading position like that, it’s a wonder she stays with you.”
“She stays with me ‘cause I fuck her right every time. Not like she’d have the same experience with you.”
“I’ll have you know that I’ve never gotten a single complaint about my performance in the bedroom!”
“Yeah, right. Like she’d ever go for you when she has me here.”
“A-actually,” you speak up for the first time during their spat. Both men turn to you, Sanji with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, and Zoro, who’s glare seems to scream don’t you dare, as if he knew exactly what you were going to suggest.
“Sanji,” you swallow, hoping you’re not making a mistake, “you should join us.”
“Join—?” He chokes on his spit, and you can see the way his cheeks turn red from his blush.
“Please?” you put on a classic pout that you know will make Sanji weak in the knees.
Hook, line, and sinker.
He scratches the back of his neck, feigning concession. But you can see the tent in his pants that is clear as day. “If you insist, madam.”
“Madam,” Zoro mutters from behind you, mocking Sanji’s choice of word. You kick at the back of his leg in warning.
Sanji approaches you in the front of the bed (staying as far away from Zoro as possible, you notice) and stares at you hesitantly. You motion him closer, and begin palming his erection through his pants. He moans softly, his hips subtly bucking into your touch.
Zoro, having enough of your attention pulled away from him, begins to thrust back into you from behind. The sudden movement has you moaning, and the force of it pushes you right into Sanji’s crotch.
The ship’s cook grabs your hair by the root and keeps you in place with one hand as he uses his other to undo his pants and free his cock from its constraints. His hard erection springs out, hitting you in the face, and without any prompting you stick it in your mouth, sucking on it furiously.
You bob your head up and down, swallowing him all the way down to the root. You swirl your tongue around the head, and Sanji’s grip in your hair tightens as he groans from the sensation.
“Better not make any noises over there, cook,” Zoro says. “I was planning on finishing.”
Sanji’s response comes back within a second. “I can’t help it when your woman is giving all her attention to me.”
You don’t even need to be looking at Zoro to know what his reaction is to that—you can just picture the glare that he gives Sanji as he slaps your ass and ruts his hips into you more.
The force of his cock filling you to the brim has you moaning around Sanji’s cock as your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your hands grip the sheets below you as you make a feeble attempt to stabilize yourself as you lay helpless between the two men who use your body for their pleasure.
Zoro does his best to ignore Sanji and occupies himself with grabbing the flesh of your ass and spreading you open wider than before. He bullies his cock deep inside of you, and the bulbous head reaches parts of you that have your vision going blurry and your mind going numb, only able to focus on how much he fills you up.
“You see this?” Zoro motions to you, and the way your body shakes in pleasure from his cock thrusting deep with you. “This is all ‘cause of me. You couldn’t make her feel even half as good.”
As you look up at Sanji through your teary vision, you can see the way his eyes narrow at Zoro’s fighting words. Suddenly your nose is pressed up against Sanji’s pubic bone, his cock stuffed all the way down your throat, you cough and gag around him, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth yet he doesn’t relent.
He has one hand entangled in your hair at the scalp, and the other moves to wrap itself around your neck, gripping it lightly, feeling the imprint of his cock on your throat as he fucks it in and our of your mouth.
You moan around him, relishing in the sensation of fullness that you’re getting inside of you from both ends. Your hands move to grasp onto Sanji’s thighs and you suck down as much as you can on his cock, gagging as his cock reaches as far as it could possibly go within your mouth. Tears start to stream down your face now at the way he pounds himself all the way to the back of your throat.
Sanji looks down at your reaction, and then up at Zoro with his trademark smirk. “Seems like she’s too occupied enjoying my cock down her throat.”
Both men are relentless in trying to prove themselves, and you’re on the receiving end of it. It seems as though you’re never going to catch a break between the two of them. They constantly try and one up each other, with each new action or technique they try on you has you edging closer and closer to your eventual orgasm.
The final straw is when Zoro, through his relentless ruts into you, begins to stick his thick fingers inside of your pussy as well, curling them up in the perfect spots where he knows you’ll fall apart.
And you do. You attempt to pull a hand back and slap him against his arm to warn him or your incoming orgasm, but Sanji’s grip in your hair remains as solid as ever and you don’t have enough strength to pull yourself back.
Your arms flop to your side, weak and useless, the two men being the only things holding your body up now. Your screams of pleasure are muted around Sanji’s cock, but the vibrations from it have him groaning nonetheless.
Your orgasm comes like a colossal wave, crashing down onto you with so much pain and pleasure it becomes too overwhelming to bear. Your whole body goes rigid as you climax. Your pussy clenches like a vice around Zoro’s cock, and your mouth tightens around Sanji. The two men groan in unison as your release washes over you, squirting juices all over yourself and Zoro, who you can hear laughing (and probably mocking Sanji) from behind you.
Neither man lets you rest after your orgasm, though. They both continue to fuck you with intense vigor, as if it’s their dying wishes. It’s Sanji who finally folds first and cums, doing so by holding you by your hair as he smashes your face all the way to the base of his cock. His groans are loud and continuous as you suck down on him furiously, swallowing the jets of cum that shoot out of him.
A mix of your saliva and his cum leave the sides of your mouth as you do so, causing you to make a mess of his cock, slobbering all over it as he guides your head up and down.
“Fuck, so good for me,” he mutters out with his jaw clenched, just loud enough for you to hear, and you preen under the praise.
After he’s done cumming, you open your mouth wide and stick out your tongue for Sanji, showing him your empty mouth from swallowing all of him. And you’re glad you did so, because based on his lovesick expression alone it looked like he was about to cream himself for a second time that night.
Zoro cums soon after, his cock throbbing harshly as he buries himself to the hilt deep inside your pussy. He tends to be quiet when he cums, save for a few grunts here and there as the jets of hot liquid pour into you. But this time, you can hear him uttering praises to you.
“That’s it baby,” is what you hear the clearest through his groans, his voice gravely and deep. “Fuck, squeezing me so tightly. Could die in this pussy.”
If you literally didn’t just have your orgasm a second ago, you probably would have cum again right then and there.
Zoro always came inside of you whenever you two fucked, insisting on going bare. You never minded it; it felt better without a condom on, anyways. But you always knew that the reason why Zoro truly did it was because he loved marking you with his cum, seeing it drip outside of your pussy whenever he finished.
The swordsman reluctantly leaves your pussy after he cums. He watches the way the excess liquid seeps outside of your pussy, which still clenches around nothing, desperately looking for his cock again. He scoops it up with his fingers, pushing it back inside of you and barks out a laugh at the way you moan pathetically and your pussy walls quiver as they constrict around the shape of him.
He takes some of the excess left on his fingers and wipes it across your ass, rubbing it into your skin.
It takes you a couple of moments for you to finally open your eyes and register your surroundings after all of that. Zoro is wiping you with a wet cloth, and you see Sanji coming back in with a glass of water and a snack he no doubt whipped up quickly, then and there.
Once you’re finally calmed down from the overstimulation and cleaned off from all of the stickiness, you roll back into Zoro’s bed with a sigh collapsing from the exhaustion. Zoro moves in next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and rubbing circles into your skin.
Sanji glances at the two of you. “Room for one more?” he asks cheekily.
Zoro glares at Sanji and his arm tightens around you. “Fuck no. Piss off.”
He closes his eyes, and within seconds he’s snoring away, dead to the world.
You look over at Sanji and roll your eyes at Zoro’s words. Silently, you scootch over in the bed, making some room for him. You motion with your hand for him to climb in, and he does so gladly, nestling himself into your body. With Zoro’s arm around you and your face resting in the crook of Sanji’s neck, you’re able to fall asleep quickly and peacefully sandwiched between your two favorite boys, not having a single care in the world.
#kinktober#kinktober 2023#zoro x reader x sanji#roronoa zoro x reader#vinsmoke sanji x reader#roronoa zoro smut#vinsmoke sanji smut#zoro x reader#zoro smut#sanji x reader#sanji smut#opla x reader#opla smut#opla zoro x reader#opla sanji x reader#opla zoro smut#opla sanji smut#one piece x reader#one piece smut
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~ Titles ~
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Reader
Summary: You are determined to steal the title of best swordsman from Luke. You proposed a spar, which led to unsuspecting confessions and an alternate proposal/offer. (fluff, pining, playful rivals to lovers, happy ending)
Warning: some sexual innuendos but nothing explicit. Violence? (you two sparred).
Note: he’s like one of my only age appropriate crush if I’m honest LMAO. The others are all much older 😭
Word count: 4k
You wanted many things. You wanted glory, you wanted to have the highest winning streak to capture the flag, and you also wanted Luke’s head on a stick…sometimes.
Oh yes, Luke has heard it all from your pretty mouth, and it does not get less amusing every time. In fact, the whole camp seemed to enjoy the banters between the two of you. At one point, it escalated to bets among campers on whether you or Luke would win against one another in things. Initially, both of you were shocked at the discovery. But when the surprise wore off, both of your competitiveness only amplified. Capture the flag became your guys’ war zone, and even silly things like who could finish chores quicker was a competition.
However, despite the rivalry being kind of playful, there was one thing you swore your heart upon winning - Luke’s title.
“Ah, well, if it isn’t the best swordsman,” you greeted as you spotted him approaching.
“If it isn’t the best flag captor,” indeed, you were always assigned to snag the flag due to your combat skills.
“And soon to be the best swordsman,” you added.
“You keep saying that but haven’t even gotten close.”
“I’m literally the second best.” The second those words left your mouth, you wished they didn’t. From the number of years you’ve known Luke, you could very well predict what he was going to say next, and because of that, you realized you just walked straight into his trap. You glanced up at the boy, only to see him already cheekily peering down at you with twinkles in his eyes - the sweet look of victory casting over his face.
“Ah, yes…second best,” the smugness interlacing Luke’s otherwise swoon-worthy voice made you scoff.
You never actually hate Luke, but neither were you two friends who hung out. You both were in different friend groups, rarely in the same space without making a quick remark or two, though they were all interlaced with a humorous undertone. There was a thin line between rivals and somewhat friends that you both mingled on without crossing. You would never tell him or admit it out loud, but Luke played a huge part in shaping who you are today as a Demigod. He constantly challenged you, which pushed you to take steps to become better. Over time, you two even slipped into a routine. You were each other’s sparring partners and, strangely enough, each other’s choice when it comes to quest partners.
You remember the first time Luke did it. Three years ago, you used to believe that he genuinely hated your guts and loved making fun of you for his own amusement. So when Chiron asked Luke to pick two companions for his quest, he named you without an ounce of doubt in his voice. You almost had a whiplash looking over at the boy who just called out your name.
“Not for long,” you settled on replying after rolling your eyes.
When you glanced back at him, Luke was giving you the look. The one where his lips were sculpted in a challenging and somewhat arrogant smirk, contrasting with the soft gaze that would always pair with it. It was as if he wanted you to know that despite his annoying habit of riling you up, he’d never cross any line that you would not let him, and he’d never push any buttons that you’d say were off limits. It was charming and sweet in a sense, though your mind dismissed that belief every single time and blamed it on your heart for being delusional. However, boy oh boy, your body reacted to it like Zeus has personally struck you with thunder every single time. Your lungs would collapse and malfunction for a second; your eyes would hold still and at him as if turned to stone by Medusa; your tongue seemed to have been frozen; your voice as if taken by Ursula. But amidst that mess, your heart would be beautifully embracing this feeling that it was harboring. It was something you never acknowledged or wanted to label because you knew it would be put into the universe as soon as you did that.
“I have a proposal,” you said, after forcing yourself out of that flustered state.
“I’m listening,” Luke crossed his arms, and you almost gulped at how they bulked up when he did so.
“We spar. If I win, I get the title of best swordsman. You win, you can get anything you want,” you named the terms.
“Anything?” Luke asked, tilting his head with amusement twinkling in his eyes as you confirmed by nodding. “Ok, deal,” he drew a hand out, prompting you to shake it, which you mindlessly did. Little did you know, Luke did it on purpose as an excuse to hold your hand, even if it was for only a split second.
It was sort of pathetic, and Luke knew it. But there was nothing else he could do. The only way he could ever touch you was either small actions like handshakes or getting punched by you. The latter happened more frequently as the two of you sparred together more. The both of you didn’t make a habit of hurting each other, but it was bound to happen when practicing combat.
As toxic and insane as it sounded, Luke was somewhat addicted to the infrequent pain that you were inflicting on him. One, because he got to feel your touch, albeit it was aggressive. Two, the worried look on your face - the closest he thought he would feel to you caring about him as much as he cared about you. Three, waking up the next day with purple bruises left by you, which, to him, was the only substitute for the type of purple marks he wanted you to leave on him.
“Alright, let’s do this,” you retracted your hand and got into position.
“Don’t you wanna know what I’d get if I win?” something in Luke’s eyes told you that whatever he had in mind was pure trouble, and he knew you had this urge to know everything. So you purposefully ignored asking about it.
“I don’t need to know, ‘cause that won’t happen anyway,” as you turned away, Luke let out a chuckle as his eyes softened at the sight of you. He knew that you know of the fact that he knows you well. Years of bantering and shy glances over your way when you weren’t aware has also taught him many things about you. Like how you prefer tabbing over highlighting your books, or how you’d always strike on the side first when combating others but would always change it up when it comes to him, or that your smile slightly tilted to the right when you are genuinely happy, or the fact that your love language was act of service because you were always going out of your way for the people you love.
At a far enough distance, you finally turned back at Luke but was caught off guard when you saw his sword already swinging at you. Years of practice forced your reflexes into action, and you caught his sword midair with your own.
“Woah, we never agreed that it started,” you yelled, pushing him and his sword away from you and yours.
“Do monsters wait for you to be ready during quests, sweetheart?” The mocking tone should not be affecting you the way it did, but it elicited this feeling of sheer annoyance and unleashed a hunger for victory. Luke got into a fighting stance as well, “Well then, ready whenever you are.”
You practically swung at him, and your swords clashed at an alarming rate to outsiders. But you two were experts at swordsmanship. Every move was quick and with ease. However, as Luke predicted, your eagerness to win was eroding your strategic senses. Taking advantage of this, he was planning to strike your armor next, aiming to create a mark on it. But you unexpectedly dodged down, and he was not prepared enough to change his course of action.
Within seconds of a gasp escaping your lips, Luke halted still as his jaw dropped in horror upon realizing what he had done. He called out your name, trying to come nearer to inspect the consequences of his action.
Thunder started sounding as the gray clouds finally cast water upon you two. You traced your hand along the mark that was left on your cheek, eying the blood that was now on your finger. As raindrops landed on your hand and diluted the substance, you realized your attacks in the last five minutes have been too impulsive and you needed to keep your emotions at bay.
“Y/N?” Luke called out again, though it reeked a new level of worry this time. Luke was afraid he had crossed a line. Despite sparring many times in the past, Luke had never caused harm to your face before. In fact, he has always been careful to minimize the injuries he would inflict on you.
Luke held back the urge to rub his hand over where his heart would be to soothe it as his mind wandered off to the possibility of you hating him genuinely and never wanting him around again. He never told you, but the reason he trained so hard to become the best swordsman - apart from for glory - was for you. He knew you were also good at it and hoped the title would make you notice him.
You averted your attention back to him and drew your sword up again.
“What? You’re scared you won’t be the only one who looks good with a scar on their face anymore?” you asked, arching your eyebrow.
“Oh, so you think I look good with the scar?” Luke bantered back, though you could tell there was an immense relief that he was feeling. Taking advantage of his distracted state, you struck again, but he managed to dodge just in time.
The fight went on for another twenty minutes. You were too focused to see, but Luke was surprised by how you chose to attack him this time. However, you miscalculated Luke’s next move and had to abruptly try to dodge his attack. But by taking a step back, you gave him the perfect chance to strike. Within seconds, he managed to disarm and send you to the ground.
Like the last thousands of spars, the tip of his sword ended up near your throat as an indication of checkmate. You knew you could make no more moves - definitely not without your sword. You lifted both hands up slightly in a motion of surrender, biting the inside of your cheeks as you peered up at him.
Right now, sweat and rain were dripping down the side of Luke’s face. They rolled down his scar - that goddamn scar that never failed to make you go borderline feral with visions of the kisses you’d bless them with if you were given the chance to. His dark, wet curls were clinging onto his forehead, and the same colored eyes gazed down at you. They were so cocky, almost condescending, yet so hot it made you want them to be kept on you forever.
You hated to admit it, but he looked so hot fighting you were willing to purposefully lose sometimes.
Little did you know, it drove him to the wall that you were peering up at him like this: cheeks flushed, heavy breath, and those goddamn eyes peering through your pretty lashes that could convince him to do absolutely everything you’d ask. The sight of you made Luke want to spill his guts and tell you everything he had been locking up inside his mind.
He extended one hand out to help you up. Like always, you accepted his offer and got up from the ground.
As you were about to let go of Luke’s hand, he slightly tightened his grip, and your heart fluttered at the action. He was staring at your guys’ hands in deep thought before softly rubbing his thumb across your fingers and knuckles. The way Luke delicately did so vastly contrasted with how he was fighting you during every spar. For a second, you wondered what it would be like to be loved by him and be held so tenderly.
“It’s okay, you know…” Luke spoke, breaking the peace from the sound of rain hitting the soil beneath them.
“What? Be defeated?”
“You may be the second-best swordsman in this camp-”
“Geez, thanks for reminding me that I’m only second best,” you playfully commented.
“But you’re first place...in here.” Luke pointed right at his heart using the hand that was not on yours. You stare at it with your mouth slightly agape.
“Stop playing around with me,” you almost stuttered, refusing to believe Luke was not trying to fool you for a quick laugh.
“I’m not,” Luke rebutted and pulled your hand towards his chest, causing your heart to flutter at the action. But unlike that small kick in your heart, when your palm lay between Luke’s hand and his heart, you could hear his heart beating like an engine that had lost control. Your jaw fell agape at the contact and the speed of his heartbeat. When you looked up at him, the earnest look on Luke’s face made you know that whatever he was planning to say was indeed from his whole heart.
“Third week at camp, I got knocked down by this much older kid during capture the flag, who wanted to maim me for some reason. You swept in, pushed him into the lake nearby and pulled me to run away with you before that kid could get out of the water and chase after us. It felt like I was lovestruck or something, but I could not keep my eyes off you after that. Somehow, you always draw my attention in any crowded room,” Luke blushed at his confession, shyly avoiding eye contact with you. “But after that, I think you sort of forgot who I was because you weren’t acknowledging me at all, and so the fifteen-year-old me thought maybe I needed to throw sarcastic remarks or say stupid things to make sure that my crush would remember me and know that I exist. Hence-”
“The banters,” you finished off for him.
“And the rivalry. It’s pathetic, I know,” Luke added.
You were in awe of viewing things from Luke’s perspective. Because from your side, you did remember that day very vividly. The reality was you were too nervous to interact with the boy again after the incident, growing shy at the thought of talking to a cute boy. So you pretended that nothing had happened.
“Fast forward to when I returned from that quest that gave me the dragon scar. People weren’t exactly different, but I could feel that they were somewhat tiptoeing around me as if I was…damaged,” Luke’s eyes hollowed for a second, and you could see that he was being sucked back into the memories. But his absent state of mind didn’t last long, and his eyes lit up again as the boy continued, “But you were the one thing that did not change. You didn’t treat me any differently. Your remarks and blunt insults became fresh air for me. I never told you, but every time we interacted back then - every time you talked to me, insulted me, or even looked at me, it felt like…I could finally breathe in that suffocating time period. Seeing you suddenly became necessary, and I think that was when I realized…”
With your hand on Luke’s chest still, you could feel his heart start beating even faster, if that was possible, as if trying to break free from his ribcage.
“I think that was when I realized I was in love with you,” Luke’s words came out as a whisper, like an oath too sacred to be said out loud. That is not to say he wasn’t afraid to shout it out from a rooftop. Luke just wanted his first time saying it to be for your ears only. For every single time after, Luke would make sure that his words and actions were heard loud and clear to you and others, if you would let him.
You almost could not believe your own ears. For the first time ever, you saw Luke look so vulnerable. He was usually so sure of himself, almost always overly confident whenever he was around you, just to irritate you with an inflated ego persona. But right now, it felt like the curtains were closing, and nothing was left but him with his heart in hand.
This was who Luke Castellan really was - under all the armor and titles.
And he was in love with you.
You opened your mouth to say something, but words froze. You weren’t sure what to say because you believe that whatever it is you utter out wouldn’t be able to top Luke’s words. You frowned as the sparks in Luke’s eyes dulled slowly. You could feel his hand keeping yours on his chest slipping slightly. At this, you flipped your hand around to hold his in place.
“Eleven months after you arrived at camp that I…” you paused, gulping as you tried to find the words, “This boy, he tore my favorite book apart because I defeated him during a spar and “embarrassed him” in front of everybody. He’s an absolute coward, too, because he brought his buddies along, knowing he would have never won one-on-one against me. So, he had his friends hold me still as he punched me in the face and stomach repeatedly.” Luke’s eyebrows furrowed at the story. Of course, he remembered the incident. He only wished he had been there when it happened rather than in the aftermath.
“You found me bloody and bruised while I was heading to the infirmary. I was convinced you hated me back then because of all the sarcastic remarks I thought were genuine insults. So I thought you would just ignore me. But no, you stopped me. For the first time ever, I saw who you seem to really be: this caring and protective person. You were stubborn and determined to know what happened, even though I said it was not a big deal. Then you wrapped up my wounds in the infirmary wordlessly and would not leave my side until you walked me back to my cabin, where I finally told you who was behind it all.”
“Then, the next day, I found a new copy of my favorite book, candy, and new book tabs on my bedside. Later that day, I found out that his whole friend group, including him, had their hair dyed bright pink with dozens of bruises and cuts on them, and they could not even look at me. And I just knew it was you who had done all this for me, which changed how I see you - and us.”
“Is that why you left me your dessert for a month straight? After I lost dessert privileges for maiming those guys?” Luke asked.
“I did no such thing,” you tried to lie. Indeed, you were the mysterious person who left desserts next to Luke’s bed for the month after the incident. Even though you never told him, he knew it was you, and the look he was giving you right now conveyed he very well did not believe your denial.
“What I’m trying to say, Luke Castellan…is I think my heart might be a little too fond of you as well,” Luke’s jaw dropped slightly at your words. His heart almost spiked completely, losing a beat as if you caused him to flatline from bliss. Then, something glossed over his eyes, and you fully recognized it. The glint of mischief always presented itself before he said something cheeky to you.
“You know, I think I’ll cash in my prize now. I did win after all,” Luke referred to your original spar deal. You huffed at his words and the cheeky grin he was offering you.
“Ah, right. So, what is it that you want?” Luke untangled his hand from yours and used both to cup your face slowly but surely.
“Hmm, you did say “anything”,” Luke muttered as he glanced down at your lips, which made you subconsciously licked them. However, your action made him let out a quivering breath. Even though it was somewhat dark, you could still see that his eyes were dilated. You were pretty sure yours were as well.
“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” Luke was holding your face like it was the world that he had in his palms.
“Yes,” you answered almost without hesitation, and he smiled at that. “Kiss me, Castellan,” you tugged Luke’s shirt, pulling him towards you, and almost immediately, he clashed his lips against yours.
Years of yearning were unleashed as you two practically melted in each other’s hold. The rain only added passion to the kiss, like fuel to the fire. Luke lightly backed you against a tree with one hand at the back of your head, shielding it from hitting the tree trunk too hard. Slowly, his other hand trailed down from your cheek to your hips. There were so many words he was seemingly trying to convey to you through his kiss. It was as if he was making a promise upon the love he intended to deliver to you.
One of your hands tangled in Luke’s curls, twirling them around your fingers like it was their intended purpose to exist for. The other was on his cheek, your fingers subconsciously rubbing over his scar ever so delicately, as if they were gold to be treasured rather than a blemish to be ashamed of. Luke faintly shivered at your action, growing ever so breathless at the way you touched him, wanting to scowl at himself for being affected in such a way.
Luke pulled away first, and you could not help but grin at the sight of him: swollen plump lips, messy dark hair, and a hue of pink dancing across his face. He cupped your face with both his hands again before leaving a small kiss on your cheek near where he had split your skin and drew blood.
“This doesn’t change anything, you know? It may not be today, but someday, I will get the title of best swordsman if it is the last thing I do. Me losing today does not mean I’m giving up,” you said, hands still playing with his hair lovingly despite the stubborn declaration.
“I would not expect any less,” Luke replied, though wanting to add ‘if anybody were to take this honorable title, I’d want it to be you,’ yet he did not utter his thoughts. You breathed out a chuckle at his words.
“And yeah, maybe someday you will get that title,” Luke paused, taking a deep breath. You could feel how his chest seemed to stutter as his cheek heated up.
“But for now, will you settle with the title of being mine?” you almost swooned at his words and the smile that he was giving you. If only you knew, he would give you all the titles you want: best swordsman, best counselor, his, and - if someday you would ever want it - his last name, as crazy as it sounded. Hell, maybe he’d take yours.
“Yes, only if you’d also have the title of being mine.”
“I’ll wear it with honor and never surrender it unless you ever deemed me unworthy of the title,” Luke replied, grinning down at you like he had no intentions of ever letting you go.
“Never,” you grinned up at him, hands cupping his face before drawing him into another kiss, sealing the deal of forevermore.
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How can non-Jewish writers include Jewish characters in supernatural stories without erasing their religion in the process?
Anonymous asked:
I have a short story planned revolving around the supernatural with a Jewish character named Danielle (who uses they/them pronouns). Danielle will be one of a trio who will be solving the mystery of two brides' deaths on the day of their wedding. My concern with this is the possibility of accidentally invalidating Danielle's religion by focusing on a secular view of the afterlife. At the same time, I don't want to assume that Jewish people can't exist in paranormal stories, nor do I want to use cultural elements that don't belong to me. So, how do I make sure that Danielle is included in the plot without erasing their Jewishness?
Okay so to start with I think we need to ask a question about the premise: what is a secular afterlife? I’m not asking this to nitpick or be petty, but to offer you expanded ways of thinking through this issue and maybe others as well.
A Secular Afterlife
What is a secular afterlife? To begin with, I get what you mean. The idea of an afterlife we see in pop culture entities like ghost media owes more to a mixture of 19th-century spiritualist tropes drawn from titillating gothic novels than to anything preached from the pulpit of an organized house of worship. Yet those tropes--the ominous knocking noises from beyond, the spectral presences on daguerrotype prints, the sudden chill and the eerie glow, all of those rely on the idea of there being something beyond this life, some continuation of the spirit when the body has ceased to breathe. For that, you need to discount the ideas that the consciousness has moved on to another physical body and is currently living elsewhere, and that it was never separate from the body and has now ceased to exist. Can we say that this is secular?
More so: Gothic literature, as the name suggests, draws heavily on Catholic imagery, even when it avoids explicit references to Catholicism. Aside from the architectural imagery, Catholic religious symbols permeate the genre, as well as the larger horror and supernatural media genres that grew from it: Dracula flinches from a crucifix, priests expel demons from human bodies, Marley’s Ghost haunts Ebenezer Scrooge in chains. The concepts of heaven and hell, and nonhuman beings who dwell in those places, are critical to making the narratives work.
The basis also draws from a biblical story, that of the Witch of Endor. The main tropes of Victorian spiritualism are present: Saul never sees the ghost of Samuel, only the Witch of Endor is able to see “A divine being rising” from wherever he rises from, and her vague description, “I see an old man rising, wearing a robe,” evokes the cold readings of charlatan mediums into the present (Indeed, some rabbinic sources commenting on this assert that this is exactly what was going on).
While neither of these views of its origin define the genre as the sole property of Catholicism--or of Judaism for that matter--it would be hard exactly to categorize them as secular.
A Jewish Perspective on ghosts
However, it’s not the case that ghost media is incompatible with Jewishness, assuming that it doesn’t commit to a view of heaven and hell duality that specifically embraces a Christian spiritual framework.
Jewish theology is noncommittal on the subject of the afterlife. The idea of a division between body and soul in the first place is found in ancient Egypt, for instance, earlier than the earliest Jewish texts. In Jewish text it’s present in narratives like the creation story, in which God crafts a human body out of earth and then breathes life into it once it’s complete. It also appears in our liturgy: the blessings prescribed to be recited at the beginning of the day juxtapose Elohai Neshama, a blessing for the soul, with Asher Yatzar, expressing gratitude for the body, recited by many after successfully using the bathroom.
Yet it’s not clear that this life-force is something separate than the body that lives beyond it, until the apparition of the Witch of Endor. The words we use to describe it, whatever it is, evoke the process of breathing rather than that of eternal life: either ruach (spirit, or wind) or neshama (soul, or breath): neither is a commitment to the idea that it does--or that it doesn’t--go somewhere else when the body returns to the earth.
Jewish folklore, however, leans into the idea of ghosts and other spiritual beings inhabiting the earthly plane (and others). Perhaps most famous is the 1937 movie The Dybbuk, in which a young scholar engaging in kabbalistic practices calls upon dark forces to unite him and his fated love, only to find himself possessing her body as a dybbuk. It appears that he is about to be successfully exorcized, but ultimately when his soul leaves her body, hers does as well.
More relevantly to your story, a Jewish folktale inspired the movie The Corpse Bride. In the folktale version, a newly-engaged man jokingly recites the legal formula he will soon recite at his wedding, and places his ring on the finger of a nearby corpse--a reference to a time when antisemitic violence is said to have gotten worse not only at Jewish and Christian holidays as it does still to this day, but around Jewish weddings as well. The murdered bride stands up, a corpse reanimated complete with consciousness, and demands that the bridegroom honor his legal obligation.
In the movie, the bride gives up her demand willingly: her claim on him is emotional rather than legal, and she finally accepts that he has an emotional connection with another person, that he doesn’t love her. In the folk tale, the dead woman takes him to court to decide whether their marriage is legal, since he spoke the legal words to her in front of witnesses as is required, and the court rules that the dead do not have the right to make legal demands on the living. In this version, the moral of the story is that a legal formula is an obligation; that when he jokingly bound himself to the corpse, he not only disrespected the dead but also the legal framework that structures society, and by so doing risked being obligated to keep his side of a contract he never intended to enact.
This speaks to the ways that a Jewish outlook can differ from a Christian-influenced “secular” one. Christian-influenced cultural ideas can often focus around feeling the right thing, while Jewish stories will often center on doing the right thing. Does the Corpse Bride leave because she realizes she is not the one he loves? Because she--or he--learned a valuable lesson? Or because she loses her court case? It’s not that the boy’s emotions are irrelevant to the story--the tension, the suspense, the horror of the story takes place primarily within the boy’s emotional landscape--but emotions on their own are not a solution. The question “should he marry her” can be answered emotionally, but “has he married her” can only be answered by a legal expert, and once it has been the deceased bride may not have changed her emotional attachment to him, but she no longer has legal standing to pursue her claim.
Centering legal rectitude over emotional catharsis isn’t a requirement for having Jewish characters in your story, but it’s worth thinking about what is and isn’t universal, what is and isn’t actually all that secular.
Meanwhile, back at the topic:
Where does any of this place Danielle?
Well, unless you’re positing a universe in which Christian or other deities or cosmologies are confirmed to exist (See Jewish characters in a universe with author-created fictional pantheons for more on that topic), there’s no reason why they shouldn’t be perfectly fine interacting with whatever the setting you’re building throws at them.
My wishlist for this character and setting runs more to the general things to consider when writing fantasy settings with Jewish characters:
Don’t confirm or imply that Jesus is a divine being. That means no supernatural items like splinters of the cross, grails, nails, veils, etc. There’s nothing particularly powerful or empowering about this one guy who lived and died like so many others.
Don’t show God’s body and especially not God’s face, or confirm that any other gods or deities exist, whether that’s Jesus, Aphrodite, or Anubis, or someone you made up for the context.
Don’t put Danielle in a position where they’re going to play into an antisemitic trope like child murder, blood drinking, world domination, or financial greed. If you have to, name it and let Danielle express discomfort with or distaste for those actions both because Jewish values explicitly oppose all of those things but also because Danielle as a Jewish character would be painfully aware of these stereotypes as present and historical excuses for antisemitic violence.
Do consider what Danielle’s personal practice might look like. What does Danielle do on Shabbat? What do they eat or refrain from eating? What are their memories of Jewish holidays and how is their current holiday observance different than their childhood? I know I say “Jewishness is diverse” on every ask, but it is, and these questions--which also underscore how very much Judaism is rooted in one’s actions during this life--will help you develop how Judaism actually functions to inform Danielle’s character, even if you don’t spell out the answers to each of these questions in text.
Do let Danielle find joy, comfort, and identity in their Jewishness not just in contrast with Christianity but simply because it’s part of the wholeness of their character. I know the primary representation of Jewishness is a snappy one-liner in a Christmas episode followed by the Jewish character joining in the Christmas spirit, blue edition, but make room for Jewishness to inform how Danielle approaches the events of your story, or why they decide to get or stay involved.
-Meir
Hi it’s Shira with some Jewish ghost story recs written from inside–
When The Angels Left the Old Country by Sacha Lamb (deliriously good queer YA Jewish paranormal, mainstream enough that it’s got a good chance of being at your local library and won all kinds of awards)
The Dyke and the Dybbuk by Ellen Galford (sorry for the slur, warning for a paragraph of biphobia in the book but it’s an older book. I read this right before my divorce so my memories are super fuzzy but it’s about this modern day lesbian who gets possessed by the ghost of a different lesbian from hundreds of years earlier in Jewish history.)
Nine of Swords Reversed by Xan West z’L of blessed memory - another queer Jewish paranormal.
The general plot is that two partners are struggling with how to be honest with each other about the effect disability is having on them. It’s got a very warm and fuzzy cozy vibe but kink culture is central to the worldbuilding so if that isn’t your vibe I didn’t want you to go in unaware.
The Dybbuk in Love by Sonya Taaffe. I don’t remember the details but I remember loving it, it’s m/f and romance between possessor and possessed.
I wrote a really short one called A Man of Taste where a gentile vampire woman and a Jewish ghost/dybbuk get together.
~S
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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐳𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬?
*Gifs not mine credits to the owner*
• Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader.
• Requested: no.
• Summary: you and Hotch have occasional rendezvous but each time you promise it’ll be the last even if neither of you seems to be able to stop.
• Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (don’t be like them you guys wrap it if you want to use it!!!), cursing, dirty talk, oral sex m. receiving, basically porn with no plot lol
• Word count: 1824.
• A/N: PLEASE READ THIS ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ MINORS STAY AWAY. I hope you like this, let me know what you think. Comment, reblog and like if you want and as always thank you so much for your support.
“Oh fuck Hotch you feel so good…-” you moaned loudly as you kept riding him on his chair. Your shaking thighs burned, your aching knees pressing against on his chair as his dick thrusted deeper and deeper inside you.
His hands were gripping your hips as he accompanied your movements, grunting and trying to remain silent while his fingers pressed against your skin so hard they left marks on it.
He let go of your hip and covered your mouth when another groan escaped your lips, making your moans become just muffled sighs. “Shut up, you don't want them to hear us do you?”.
You shook your head, biting into his palm as you placed your hands on the arms of his chair for support while letting yourself get rocked by the immense pleasure he was giving you.
It was a mistake.
You knew it was.
But God what a beautiful mistake.
You couldn't help it.
Since the day you and Hotch ended up in bed one night after a case and a few drinks, you didn’t stop having these rendezvous, neither of you could help it. Every time you promised yourselves it’d be the last, but it was enough to find yourselves close, or your eyes to meet during the discussion of a case, or for some reason his hand to casually caress yours to break this promise.
You were just like a drug for each other. From that first dose you had that night, you could no longer go without that feeling of euphoria and pure ecstasy the sex gave you.
Aaron Hotchner was the most sinful thought that crossed your mind, the forbidden thing you always craved and God did you love it.
Maybe it was the fact you were a BAU agent and he was your boss, maybe it was the thrill of being discovered, maybe it was the taste of the forbidden – hell, what would the FBI have said if they knew the upright boss of the behavioral analysis unit was breaking the rules that he himself continually reiterated to his agents?
This, however, didn't stop either of you, indeed it was as if all this was fuel thrown on the fire, passion and desire you already felt.
At first you both managed to keep that passion at bay, having occasional sex in hotel rooms when you were out of town for a case. But the more time passed, the more difficult it became to suppress everything, to hide that you wanted to rip each other’s clothes off every minute of the day.
And that's why you found yourself in his office that evening, fucking near his desk while there were still some colleagues still in the bullpen.
“God I've been thinking about you and this damn skirt all day… Fuck… You’re irresistible,” he muttered, his eyes scanning your figure sitting on him as his dick fucked your wet pussy.
He was completely mesmerized.
Your skirt was rolled up around your hips, the sheer black stockings you were wearing until recently had been ripped by Hotch in the heat of passion, your panties were thrown to the floor, your shirt unbuttoned and your bra moved as your breasts popped out and bounced to the rhythm of your motion.
You looked like a fucking goddess.
The walls of your pussy started to clench around his dick, making him twitch inside you, your hips stuttering as you felt your orgasm building more and more. It was as if your body was going through convulsions and you couldn't control it, you just wanted and desired that intense pleasure that only Aaron Hotchner was able to give you.
He wrapped his lips around your breast, sucking and licking your nipple as you threaded your hands into his hair and pulled it. You bit your lower lip in an attempt to keep at bay the moans and gasps you was struggling to keep quiet.
“Just like that, oh yeah just like that you feel so good Hotch,” you whispered in a gasp, rolling your eyes and head back. His tongue licked your skin, from your breasts, then moving up your collarbone to your neck, kissing and sucking your skin until he left a mark.
Hotchner wasn't one for hickeys, he wasn't one for office sex in the workplace, he wasn't one for quickies, he wasn't one to break the rules that he himself had set but you managed to break down every single part of his barrier, you managed making him lose control in a way that he loved and hated at the same time, you managed to unleash emotions in him that he had never even felt in his life.
You were hurricane.
You were storm.
You were addiction.
And he couldn't get enough of you, never.
“Shit, fuck,” he cursed, biting and licking the skin of your shoulder as his thumb began drawing imaginary circles on your clit making your muscles tense even more and your movements more erratic. You almost had a heart attack from the intense pleasure that flowed through your veins. “God princess you ruin me.”
A breathtaking orgasm hit over you without any other warning like a raging river, making you dizzy and see stars. Your vision went blurry for a few moments, making you even forget you were in your boss' office and someone could actually hear you.
You tried to catch your breath but at that very moment there was a knock on the door, making both you and Hotch freeze in place, his hard dick still inside you. You exchanged a panicked look.
“Just one second.” Aaron had responded after clearing his throat and then continuing talking to you in a whisper, “Get under the desk.”
You nodded and lifted yourself off his legs, which had turned to jelly as you bent down and picked up your panties. You settled under the desk between his legs while he quickly tried to fix his hair and button up his shirt. He stood up and put on his pants, leaving them loose without bringing them up to his hips.
“Come in.”
Your heart was beating so wildly you could hear the pounding in your ears. You stayed paralyzed under the desk, too afraid to even breathe.
The door opened and you recognized Agent Anderson's voice. “I brought the Porters' case report from five days ago Agent Hotchner.”
He nodded, his expression completely serious and professional as he pretended to fill out a file he didn't even remember at the moment.
“Thank you Agent Anderson, leave it on my desk.”
Despite the fear of being discovered, however, you couldn't contain your excitement and the thought of driving him crazy couldn't leave your mind. You placed a hand on his inner thigh, trailing your fingers along his crotch with sensuality.
Aaron almost had a heart attack when you quietly pulled his underwear off enough for his dick to pop out again, still wet and damp from your fluids and you wrapped your hand around it, starting to jerk him off with slow, controlled pace.
“Agent Hotchner there was a thing about this case I wanted to ask you about…” Agent Anderson had asked.
Are you fucking kidding me right now?
Hotch nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk, his lips pressed together because he was afraid if he opened them only moans would come out.
Your hand increased its speed and Hotch let out a deep sigh as he leaned back in his chair, about to have a heart attack right then and now.
He looked at Anderson, he heard him talking but his brain couldn't process a single word he was saying, too focused on trying to keep a serious expression and not let on that there was a woman under his desk who was masturbating him.
But the final blow came when you wrapped your lips around his dick, taking it all in your mouth and tasting yourself on it. He let out a small moan which immediately covered with a cough, thanking god Anderson was too caught up in whatever he was saying to notice.
His hand reached below the desk and into your hair, pulling it harshly and making you almost moan at the sensation. This caused you to pick up your pace and Hotch didn't know whether to hate you or not at that moment.
He wanted you to stop.
But also for you to keep going because that fucking mouth of yours was pure ecstasy.
“Are you okay, agent Hotchner?” Anderson stopped at a certain point, noticing the way Hotchner continued to move in his chair and the blush on his cheeks.
“Y-yes, I apologize...” Hotch breathed out. “Lord,” he almost let out a groan which he tried to mask with another cough. “I’m not feeling very well these days. C-can…” he stopped again, swallowing another moan. “We’ll talk about t-this tomorrow Anderson. Excuse me.”
You couldn’t help but smirk to yourself, feeling victorious for making the always-so-serious SSA Aaron Hotchner a complete mess.
His thighs started to shake, his fingers still pulling your hair as you licked his dick, leaving a long string of saliva on his tip. You wrapped your lips around him again and a hand around the base, jerking him off while simultaneously taking it in your mouth. Your other hand rested on his thigh, pressing your nails on his hot skin.
Your mouth felt like heaven and it didn't take long for the orgasm to start building again after it was interrupted.
“Oh yes of course, I'm sorry. Get well soon then, g-good night agent Hotchner.” Anderson replied and jumped to his feet before mumbling some more nonsense and exiting the office, closing the door behind him.
Hotch let out a particularly deep sigh and rested his head on the edge of his chair as he continued to mercilessly fuck your mouth.
“You fucking little slut, you really can't help yourself huh?” He groaned, looking back at you. His grip around your hair tightened, forcing your head down and making you gag. “My needy little whore, look at you chocking on my dick… Fuck you’re gonna make me come.”
How could he make such derogatory names so damn sexy?
It didn't take long for Hotch to explode into an intense orgasm inside your mouth, not letting your head go until he watched you swallow every single damn drop of his cum.
He exhaustedly leaned back in his chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he waited for his breathing to calm down.
He took your hands and helped you out from under the desk, letting you sit on his lap and kissing you until taking your breath.
He gave you a sweet little kiss on your forehead, caressing your cheek with a thumb, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. “You'll be the death of me sooner or later, agent Y/Ln.”
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400 years | Azriel
summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.
words: 3.2k
warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description
notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍
masterlist
Thud.
The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either.
But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel.
The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks.
“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”
Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles.
That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries.
“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.
Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.
It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites.
Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.
You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy.
The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.
It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.
“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes.
“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about?
“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”
The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.
“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”
Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room.
The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic.
Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.
“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands.
Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.
“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”
“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly.
“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.
Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…
You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–
“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up.
“Is that Rhysand?!”
At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you.
The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord.
You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics.
“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!”
The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.
And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….
“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.
The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look.
“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.
His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.
“Oh, please.”
The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.
“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”
Nothing?
From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.
“What? Like you can do better?”
Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.
One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours.
He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.
“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.”
The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa.
No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating.
You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement.
He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…
You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield.
His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours.
“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.
You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”
With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks.
“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away.
With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled.
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…
You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you.
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him.
Let me be your muse.
His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…
Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking.
The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing.
A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother.
The reality?
Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him.
Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.
Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment.
You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers.
You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.
It made it annoyingly hard to focus.
The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped.
“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his.
Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”
400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes.
“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist.
That is a very long time.
Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl.
“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before.
It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong?
You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.”
Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat.
Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye.
The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes.
It took your breath away.
“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.
You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head.
His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet.
“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.”
That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face.
“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.
His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.
That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.
There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you.
So dangerously close.
He was your friend.
Right?
“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.”
You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.
“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.
“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”
You froze.
The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.
Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth.
Azriel loved you?
Azriel loved you.
The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his.
The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage.
He was everywhere.
The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible.
You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air.
You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest.
“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness.
He swallowed, “It is.”
“So is mine,” you revealed.
“Yes, I can hear it.”
Oh.
“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out.
Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his.
This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.
His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.
Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.
This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.
It was claiming.
And so you let him claim you.
Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.
A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.
Want to be added to my taglist?
tags: @missus-shadowsinger
#acotar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#a court of thorns and roses#azriel fluff#azriel fanfic#azriel imagine
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We Who Are Your Closest Friends
by Phillip Lopate
we who are
your closest friends
feel the time
has come to tell you
that every Thursday
we have been meeting
as a group
to devise ways
to keep you
in perpetual uncertainty
frustration
discontent and
torture
by neither loving you
as much as you want
nor cutting you adrift
your analyst is
in on it
plus your boyfriend
and your ex-husband
and we have pledged
to disappoint you
as long as you need us
in announcing our
association
we realize we have
placed in your hands
a possible antidote
against uncertainty
indeed against ourselves
but since our Thursday nights
have brought us
to a community of purpose
rare in itself
with you as
the natural center
we feel hopeful you
will continue to make
unreasonable
demands for affection
if not as a consequence
of your
disastrous personality
then for the good of the collective
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Sorry for sending requests back to back lol, I keep having my brain work and it's crazy:
UR RECENT SIRIUS FIC GAVE ME AND IDEA! imagine poly!marauders where both reader and sirius speak french? And maybe reader uses it more when she sleepy (that's usually when I speak french), so she's just sleepily gushing to sirius abt him and james and remus and HOW MUCH SHE FUCKING LOVES THEM AND HOW PERFECT THEY ARE AND SHIT??? Omfggg
Sincerely, :]
Omg yes, thanks for requesting my love!
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 719 words
“You’re all too nice to me,” you mumble as Sirius pulls your hair back into a loose bun, James washing your face with a moist cloth. “I love you guys. Not just for this, though. I love you in general.”
Sirius’ lips curve as he watches bemusement find its way into James’ expression. He wonders if your decision to make your lovey-dovey declarations in French was even a conscious one, or if you’ve just defaulted to it as you sometimes do when you’re this sleepy. He decides to answer you in it regardless. “I love you in general, too, my sweetheart. And we’re not even as nice as you deserve.”
“I don’t like it when they do this,” James says to Remus, even as he dries your face with a loving hand. “It’s exclusionary.”
“They don’t get it,” you lament to Sirius, catching his smirk in the mirror. “It’s so much nicer when you’re lazy. The words just flow.”
“I don’t know,” Remus answers James, spitting toothpaste into the sink. “It’s kind of hot.”
Sirius’ heartbeat picks up frighteningly quickly, but his grin is wicked as he leans his head on your shoulder. “Did you hear that, my love?” he asks, not bothering to whisper since no one but you can understand. “Remus Lupin thinks we’re hot.”
“Even when they say your name?” James asks, gesturing to Sirius as if to emphasize his point.
Remus gives Sirius a lingering look. It takes everything in him not to collapse onto the floor. Sirius looks down, breaking Remus’ stare, just to make sure he is indeed still wearing pants. “Especially then.”
“But they could be saying anything!”
“He’s so pretty,” you say breathily, gazing at Remus. His brows raise at your devoted attention, a twinkle of amusement lighting his amber eyes. Your gaze slides to James, looking at you with suspicion. “They both are.” You turn your eyes last to Sirius, and it’s a different look than the one he’d just received from Remus, but it melts him just the same. “You all are. And all so good, and funny, and smart. I can’t believe my luck.”
Sirius chuckles, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck. “Me neither. Do you think they know?”
You hum, leaning back and letting him support some of your weight. He takes it happily. It’s going to be one of those nights where you’re asleep before the rest of them have even made it to bed, he can tell. “Not well enough.”
“Cease looking at me like that this instant,” James demands. “Moony, why do they look like they want to eat us?”
“Doesn’t sound like such an awful idea,” you say through a yawn, pulling out of Sirius’ arms to move towards the bed.
He follows you. “True,” he says, casting a charged look back at his boyfriends. “I could probably gnaw on a bicep, now that you mention it.”
“It’s kind of nice that not everyone can understand,” you observe drowsily as you slip under the covers. “Makes it easier to say what we mean.”
Sirius laughs. “Of course these are your darkest, most secret thoughts, you softie.” He sits down on the bed, brushing a strand of hair from your lovely face. “If you couldn’t understand me, I’d be saying much filthier stuff.” He cocks his head. “Actually, you don’t know what braquemard means, do you?”
Your eyebrows cinch, and there’s a gasp from the bathroom a moment before James comes barreling into the room.
“I heard something!” He exclaims. Sirius smirks up at him from his place on the bed. “That brack-whatever—it’s dirty, I think. I’ve heard him use it before.” You snicker into your pillow, and James looks at you in horror. “Angel, what’s he roped you into? Is he corrupting you while we can’t protect you?”
“Interesting,” Remus hums, moving slowly towards the bed. He approaches Sirius, nudging the other boy’s legs apart and fitting himself between them. Sirius’ heart pounds against his rib cage as Remus tilts his head up, fingers curled lightly around his jaw. “Gonna tell us what you’ve got to say, pretty boy?”
Sirius takes a shuddering inhale, static filling his head as Remus strokes idly at his face.
You make an amused harrumphing sound, and speak in English so everyone can hear. “Softie.”
#poly!marauders#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x fem!reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders x self insert#poly!marauders x y/n#poly!marauders fanfiction#poly!marauders fanfic#poly!marauders fic#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders drabble#poly!marauders oneshot#poly!marauders one shot#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders scenario#james potter#james potter x reader#sirius black#sirius black x reader#remus lupin#remus lupin x reader#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders era#marauders era#marauders#the marauders#marauders fanfic#marauders fic#hp marauders
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It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 20] || [Chapter 22]
Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader
Words: 1.2K~
cw: -
Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
a/n: yikes.
Chapter 21: I BEG YOUR PARDON?
It was a familiar sight.
Gaz across the desk, Soap next to him behind the spare chair, Ghost in the back of the room a foot against the wall and arms crossed.
Except this time, Price was standing up, pacing the narrow space behind his desk, from the window to the wall.
“Explain it to me slow.” He demanded. “Like I’m five years old.” He had his arms crossed over his chest as he paced.
“Well, when Ma and Da love each other very much-” Soap began.
“Soap, I will put your head through the bloody wall.” Price threatened.
The shit-eating grin that had been on the Scot’s mouth was suppressed by a pressing of lips together, rapid blinking, and a nod. He had tried and failed at having a laugh at the Captain’s expense.
“Sorry, sir.” He replied.
“Explain.” Price demanded again, hands folded behind his back.
“I started it.” Ghost said from his corner of the room. “Kept talkin’ with ‘em after you had your little one-night stand.”
The younger sergeants didn’t look over. It’s become a strange thing to see Ghost at work, when they’ve gotten a bit more familiarized with Simon instead, back in your flat.
“Why?” Price asked in earnest as he looked at Ghost, stopping in his tracks to properly face him.
“‘Cause they make me feel good.” Ghost replied and crossed his arms.
Price stared at Ghost and, for a moment, his glare softened and his brow relaxed. “I see.”
With a deep breath, the older man tossed himself down onto his desk chair, legs spread and hands resting on his thighs.
“That doesn’t explain the two of you lot.” He pointed at Gaz and Soap.
“I found out about Ghost dating ‘em after they reached out to me to check on him because he went MIA.” Gaz replied.
“And how does that in you bein’ a bloody… polycule?” Price asked.
“I sort of took ‘em on a date on accident and realized how they made me feel and that I wanted to date ‘em.” Gaz said simply.
“And I thought Gaz and Ghost were dating and then found out they’re in fact also dating the same person and not just each other and-” Soap began to explain.
“Pump the breaks.” Price demanded. “Dating each other?” He repeated, sounding like he was this close to blowing a gasket.
“Nicely done, mate.” Gaz said sarcastically and hid his face in his palm, accidentally dislodging his baseball hat from his head.
“I BEG YOUR PARDON? YOU BLOODY FUCKIN’ IDIOTS ARE DATIN’ EACH OTHER?” Price raised his voice and stood up swiftly, sending the chair rolling back against the cabinets behind him.
When no one replied, he glared specifically at Ghost in the back of the room who, himself, was looking off to the side and looked at Price with an incriminating gaze..
“SIMON’S IN YOUR DIRECT CHAIN OF COMMAND!” Price scolds… Soap and Gaz only. “DO YOU KNOW THE TROUBLE THAT CAN BRING?!”
The three men remain silent, eyes forced open out of worry that blinking again will just set the captain off some more.
“IT’S ALREADY BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU’RE ALL DIPPIN’ YOUR DAMN COCKS IN THE SAME HOLE LIKE THEY’RE SOME SORT OF BARRACKS BUNNY BUT-” Price continued his tirade.
“Calm down.” Ghost commanded as he pushed away from the wall and approached the desk.
“Simon, don’t you tell me to calm down.” John ordered, though his voice sounded a lot more calm indeed.
“I’ll tell you to calm down if I reckon I should.” Ghost quipped and set his hand on the edge oof the desk, using his height to go toe-to-toe with their boss.
“You had fun with ‘em too, didn’t you?” Ghost asked with a cocked brow.
“That’s neither here nor there-”
“Cut the bullshit. Answer the bloody question.” Ghost commanded.
“I did.” Price admitted with a grumble and looked away.
“We’re just enjoyin’ ourselves too.” Ghost replied. “They’re considerate, funny, good company…” He trailed off.
“And they have a bloody flat that we can spend time in, with a proper kitchen for good meals, and a proper bedroom with a comfortable bed, and a proper shower that doesn’t have 20 other blokes bum ass naked-” Gaz joked.
“Right, it’s only 2 other blokes instead.” Soap added and him and Gaz nudged each other, earning a stern glare from the two officers in the room.
“Point is-” Ghost replied as he looked at Price. “You saw they’re nice.” He said directly. “Can’t fault us for likin’ ‘em.” He said directly.
“No, but I can fault you idiots for bein’ involved with each other on TOP of ‘em.” Price argued.
“Okay, so it’s not our proudest moment-” Ghost acknowledged. “But it’s happenin’. And you need to keep your mouth shut.” He demanded.
“OF BLOODY COURSE I’M KEEPIN’ MY MOUTH SHUT, SIMON! Fuckin’ hell!” Price complained and threw his hands up before turning to grab a cigar from his case.
“The brass will have all our bollocks f’r breakin’ nonfraternization rules. You f’r doin’ it, me f’r knowin’ it.” He grumbled as he cut the tip of his cigar with a huff.
“Not to mention I’ve been involved in this mess to begin with ‘cause I let you lot talk me into havin’ a one-night stand with ‘em.” Price continued, murmuring under his breath and scolding them without really scolding them.
“I can never get a ’old of you lot noawadays.” Price explained. “You’re meant to be on call.” He reiterated. “Always reachable. Always ready to fly out.”
“Yet I had to call Soap over 40 times two weeks ago ‘cause he was ‘asleep’-” He continued his rant.
“Aye, I was.” Soap replied, earning a shush from Gaz and a smack on the arm.
“And the moment we dismiss you lot from debriefs or meetings, you’re all running off to go be with ‘em, ‘xcept I didn’t know that was the reason until now, and it’s so much bloody worse than I ‘xpected.” Price complained.
The man was halfway through lighting his cigar and taking a puff when Ghost spoke again.
“If they didn’t find out about Cardiff, London, Cairo, Cabo, or Tel Aviv, they won’t find out now.” Ghost retorted.
Price whipped around so fast the younger lads could swear he’d give himself whiplash. “Don’t you bring that up.” He said to Ghost as he used his cigar to point at Ghost.
“I’m just sayin’.” Ghost replied, completely calm and unbothered. “If the brass hasn’t found out about the shite we’ve done while on the field, they won’t find out about us during leave.” He replied.
“Simon-” Price tried starting before he huffed through his nose and rubbed his eyes with his fingers. Ghost simply shrugged and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“Bloody fuckin’ ‘ell.” Price complained and sat back down on his chair, setting down his cigar on the lip of the ashtray and rubbing his face.
“Just get out.” He grumbled and waved them off with a dismissive gesture of his hand.
He didn’t peek from the spot where his face was hidden in his hands as he heard the men shuffling around and leaving the office.
Just as the door slipped to a close behind them, he heard Soap asking Ghost: ‘What happened in Cardiff?’
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
@daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark
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#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic#cod modern warfare#cod fanfic#captain john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#text story#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#ghost x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#soap x reader
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─── ⋆ HE WAS A JOCK, AND SHE DID BALLET
back to masterlist
playlist
where...
Jake sim was a loser. Frat boy persona and charismatic antics aside, the moment Jake was alone with a girl he would freeze. Which explains his track record of having only slept with one girl all throughout college. That was until, you came in: Decelis' top ballerina and prized possession. Following a drunken one night stand and some (shitty) advice from his friends, Jake hopes you could help him out.
pairing ── jake x female reader
genre ── strangers to lovers, fwb (no smut tho!), college au, obvious x oblivious, denied feelings, veryyy lengthy fic
wc ── 16.6k
featuring ── jay, heeseung and sunghoon of enhypen, kazuha and yunjin of lesserafim, yuna and ryujin of itzy, seunghan of riize, soobin of txt, karina and winter of aespa, jisung and hyunjin of stray kids
warnings ── mentions of sex and hooking up, implied sex, suggestive at some parts, cursing, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of family issues, yn is kinda mean and bitchy (i tried to base her off of jo yi seo so!), mentions of crying and breaking down, mentions of blood and periods, kms jokes used, mentions of food, mentions of kissing, use of the word whore once i think, jake and yn arguing a lot
DISCLAIMERS! i'm not trying to sexualize jake nor any other idols, this is a work of fiction
Beep beep beep!
Groggily you startled open rubbing your eyes trying to locate where the hell that blaring alarm sound was coming from. Finally finding the small slim black clock atop the nightstand you muttered a string of curses below your breath, slamming your hand down on it putting a stop to the shrieking rings. You immediately closed your eyes and attempted to lull yourself back to sleep pulling your black comforter over your head, arm grabbing for the pillow beneath you then- wait, you don’t own black comforters?
Neither did you own a black alarm clock (not to be rude but who the hell even owned alarm clocks in this day and age?). Slowly you realised, you didn’t own any of this…fuck.
Looking around trying to collect your thoughts you scanned the room to try and get a clue of which dude your drunken self managed to have a one-night stand with this time. Noticing a sleek leather wallet on the nightstand next to the alarm clock, you immediately grabbed it trying to see if there was a student ID, driver's licence, hell anything. Imagine your surprise when the first thing you saw was none other than a Decelis student ID laminated and shining with the name Jake Sim printed on it. Oh shit.
You muttered strings of curses under your breath, did you seriously have a one-night stand with Jake Sim? The proclaimed loser of the Decelis Soccer Frat? The same dude who had the reputation of trying (and failing) to let alone hold a proper conversation with the girl's gymnastic team? That Jake Sim? You scoffed under your breath, god you couldn’t believe this. Fuck you seriously needed to get a hold of your drinking problem.
“Oh, you’re up” oh great. You were too busy trying to figure out how you got yourself into this problem that you failed to notice that said problem was standing there leaning against the bathroom door frame right in front of you.
Whipping your head up you were greeted with the sight of Jake Sim, toothbrush in mouth, dishevelled mess, awkwardly smiling right at you. “Uh, Hi Jake.” you looked around awkwardly trying not to stare at him since he was practically half naked “Could you um, put on a shirt?”
“Yeah, you’re kinda wearing it though…”
You glanced down to see that you were indeed wearing his shirt, the large oversized plain black tee was so big it hung over you like a dress.
“Right.” you said in an exasperated sigh walking past Jake into the bathroom with your clothes in hand to change
“Uh do you want breakfast? Tylenol? Are you hungover?” He was only met with the door shut in his face.
“Yeah uh” you called out, muffled and in between grunts trying to change into your clothes as fast as possible, “No, not really! I kinda, you know, have to get back to my dorm.”
“Oh yeah totally,” Jake replied awkwardly fuck how do you even talk to someone you just had a one-night stand with? Jesus, how did Heeseung do this shit. “Here.” you said opening the door to hand him his shirt.
“Ah, thanks” Jake said quietly as he draped the shirt over his body. He stood there still brushing his teeth as he watched you pack your things up, shooting your head back to ask “Are the other guys still here?”
“Nah, they all left to practise earlier” he replied watching you let out a slightly relieved sigh as you stood in front of his mirror tying your hair into a loose ponytail and touching up your makeup slightly “So…” he attempted to start before being cut off by you.
“Yeah um, thanks for whatever last night was Jake. Can’t really remember most of it, I’m sure it was good,” briskly lacing up your shoes you mentally cursed yourself for deciding to wear docs last night, “but maybe let’s not bring this up like, ever.” Finishing off with a tight knot and immediately pouncing up to only be met with Jake’s lost eyes and mouth slightly agape.
“Anyways! I really need to get going now so I’ll see you around ‘kay?” You walked backwards until your hand reached the door handle and turned it. The moment you stepped out you practically ran down the steps, cheeks and ears red, still muttering curses quietly, and regretting all the decisions you made last night.
And there Jake Sim stood, hopeless as ever, watching the second woman he’d ever had a one-night stand with leave running. Fun.
Not to be full of yourself but you kinda had a reputation in Decelis, top ballerina, rich mother, the whole shebang.
And well Jake on the other hand,
Me
I think I just slept with Jake Sim
Kazuha Nakamura
EXCUSE ME
Me
Yeah hahaha.. LISTEN I WAS DRUNK IDEK WHY I DID IT
Kazuha Nakamura
SOCCER PLAYER JAKE SIM? THE FRAT BOY JAKE SIM? THE APPOINTED LOSER OF DECELIS SOCCER TEAM? ARE WE THINKING ABOUT THE SAME JAKE SIM HERE.
Me
STOP YES THAT JAKE SIM. I KNOW
i’m gonna kms
Kazuha Nakamura
Okay but was it good at least?
You paused, well it was good, but you shook your head remembering who you were talking about here. I mean it’s not like you and Jake were complete strangers, you went to high school with him, so yeah you knew Jake. But imagine the whiplash you got entering college realising you now attended the same school as Jake Sim the scrawny physics nerd, except now he was Jake Sim, star soccer player who grew up and gained some charisma. However, all you could see was teenage prepubescent Jake who used to rant about Einstein’s law of relativity.
Yeah, not happening, you thought to yourself closing your phone as you headed into practise desperately hoping to drown out your memories of this morning with endless classical music and exercises.
Jake however, was still sprawled out on his bed even though it had been hours since you left. Face buried into one of his hands while the other scrolled through your Instagram profile, occasionally letting out annoyed sighs before groaning into his hand. How the hell did he even manage to screw this up.
“Jake, get up. I’m starting to actually feel bad for you” Jay let out at the sight of his friend curled up in agony, watching him with a mixture of sympathy and disappointment painted on his face.
“Dude you don’t get it, she RAN.” Jake cried out loudly sinking even deeper into his bed
“Okay, I’m sure it wasn’t that bad. Maybe she just was startled, and like seriously you couldn’t have been that horri-”
“The one-night stand isn't the problem, the problem is that it was YN!”
From what Jake could remember you, L/N Y/N, were basically untouchable in high school. I mean head of the dance club, straight A student, and not to mention you were one of the prettier girls that attended school with him; you were practically on a pedestal. The one chance he had to interact with you when he was 1. Not drunk 2. Not surrounded by his friends giving him an extra boost of confidence, he blew it.
“Okay, so it was YN? So what man, I think you’re overthinking this” Sunghoon chimed in from the back
“Hey I mean, I think you’re judging the situation way too early dude. If I were you I would see this as an opportunity!” Heeseung declared as he pranced into Jake's room
Briefly looking up from his phone, Jake shot Heeseung a judgemental glare before asking with a scoff “Okay well, since you’re the self-proclaimed expert here, mind letting me in on what you mean by ‘opportunity’”
“Okay listen,” Heeseung said while sitting on the edge of Jake’s bed “Here's what you’re gonna do: you’re gonna go up to her, start small talk, then you’re gonna ask her if you guys wanna do something casual-”
“Are you seriously suggesting I ask a girl to be friends with benefits after she RAN out on me” Jake screeched throwing his pillow at Heeseung (who thankfully caught it)
“Hey let me finish!” He replied tucking the pillow under his arms “Yeah ask for something casual, and if she was so embarrassed and humiliated as you claim she’d reject you outright, but if not you get a casual fling with a cool girl. What’s not to love?”
“Maybe the part where this whole thing is stupid, ” Jake grumbled, adjusting himself to sit upright to face Heeseung “, and why would I listen to you exactly?”
“Because a) as you said I am the expert,” Heeseung said before tossing the pillow under his arms back at Jake “and b) you genuinely need to gain some experience talking to girls. And this gives: you said experience, no strings attached!”
Jake leaned back on his headboard sighing to look up at the ceiling. God this was stupid, Heeseung seriously just wanted to make a fool out of him. How much experience did Jake seriously need, couldn’t he do that without this whole thing? I mean he had plenty of other girls to talk to right? Well…wrong. I mean, you couldn’t be that embarrassed, could you? What other chances did he have, hell this was the second person he’d ever slept with since entering college (an astounding fact even to Jake). Was it worth a shot?
“Fine.” Jake replied with a sigh. Fuck he was really doing this.
Closing the door behind you, your hands fiddled through your bag trying to find your pastel pink airpods, ready to blast music in your ears after a long chemistry exam. Putting them on, finger hovering over the play button, you were suddenly interrupted by a small tap on your shoulder. Turning around to see the one person you were trying to avoid all week, Jake fucking Sim.
“Oh Jake, I didn’t know you took chem?”
“Yeah, I didn’t, well last year I didn’t…but I had to bump up my GPA a bit so I thought chem would be easy enough. But it’s,” Jake replied looking up and recalling the questions of that harrowing exam he just took “Yeah it’s ass.”
You let out a slight chuckle, well he’s funny at least. “Yeah, that test was not my best work…”
Jake grinned at your comment, speeding up a bit to match your pace. “Hey wanna go grab some coffee?” His words laced with nervousness “I’ll pay! Well, I was the one who suggested it so I really should be paying, shouldn’t I… Anyway, my treat.”
And that’s how you found yourself seated across from Jake sipping an iced americano, legs crossed, looking around awkwardly, in dead silence.
Jake had tried to start some small talk but was met with nothing but concise and quick answers from you. Fuck you Lee Heeseung, he mentally cursed. “So..” he awkwardly started “How was your weekend?”
“I think you know how my weekend went Jake” you said in between sips
“Oh, right.” Jake said remembering how it was just this Sunday when you booked it out of his apartment. “Uh about that-”
He could barely finish his sentence before you rushed to reply “I thought we weren’t going to bring that up”
“Yeah but-”
“Listen, Jake” you let out with a sigh, placing your drink down on the table in front of you “You’re like, a nice guy and all. But I just really really can’t do relationships right now, like I’ve got a lot going on with ballet- seriously my mom is on my fucking ass about recitals…”
You realised you were rambling and looked down after briefly pausing “Anyway, you’re seriously great. I’m just not looking for anything serious right now an-”
“Me neither” Jake cut in nonchalantly while nodding diplomatically and taking a sip of his drink
“Yeah, an- wait what?”
“I mean, I’m not looking for anything at the moment either. That night was nice, I had fun” Jake explained while fiddling with the paper wrapper of his straw “And if you haven’t noticed I kinda don’t have a lot going on with me right now”
You took a moment to register what he just said before deadpanning “Are you trying to use me for sex.”
“What no!” Jake exclaimed a bit louder than he realised, making a few heads turn “Um, no I’m not. Seriously. I’m not a douche, I’m just…I don’t know how to really- talk. To women at least… I was hoping, well I was told, having casual hookups would fix that. Like, exposure therapy, I guess?”
This man seriously did not just describe hooking up with you as exposure therapy.
“You can totally decline! I was just suggesting it because a friend told me to, oh wait fuck you didn’t want anyone to know. Sorry, Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon know…I seriously didn’t mean to tell them it just slipped out and- yeah sorry. Uh well, Heeseung suggested it so…” Jake rambled on with his hand absently reaching for the nape of his neck, only to be met with your blank expression, mouth slightly agape, and iced americano in hand. God your face was practically a human adaptation of the Windows error screen.
“Ummm” you trailed off playing around with the straw in your drink. Well nobody’s ever asked you to be friends with benefits, so your brain was admittedly still buffering. “Don’t you think it’s a little…weird? I mean we’ve known each other since high school, like granted we didn’t talk but- yeah you know? And like I’ve just, never done this before. Like ever.”
“I mean I haven’t either,” Jake paused to put down his drink “Worth a shot though right?”
Jesus Christ were you seriously going to be friends with benefits with the physics nerd? You mentally weighed out the pros and cons of his little proposal. It wasn’t like the last time was bad or anything, you just couldn't shake off the image of sixteen-year-old him at the back of the physics classroom playing with the Newton’s cradle while your teacher lectured on about waves. Recalling this you looked up at Jake sitting in front of you right now, he still had the same face but his features matured, his body was more built (probably all the training) and you couldn’t deny that even with him nervously picking at his fingernails…he definitely did grow up well.
“I’ll-” you said with a slight sigh “I’ll get back to you on it Jake.”
“You’ll get back to him on it?! What is this a corporate meeting?” Your roommate Zuha said in between handfuls of chips.
Eyes shifting to the side to snap a dirty glare at her, you sighed in frustration before joining her atop your lofted bed. Kazuha and you were complete opposites: she was arguably way more bold than you and had an impressive list of friends spanning across the three different universities that neighboured Decelis. To be honest meeting her when you were six at ballet lessons might have been the sole reason you were able to get through university with a thankfully active social life. Truly you didn’t think your bond over Ever After High dolls would take you so far; but there you were in your second year of university, lounged across your mattress while she berated you for your lacking conversational skills.
“Hey! I was trying to be polite for your information,” you defended whilst burying your head into your pillows
“I mean why not?” Zuha asked with indifference
“Oh I don’t know, maybe because we went to high school together, he was and still is a huge dork, and he’s Jake Sim. Yeah just a thought.” you snapped back while digging your hands deeper into Kazuha’s bag of chips
“Well to me those all sound like pros.” she had reached in to grab a fistful of chips before munching on them between sentences, “Plus what’s the big deal, you hooked up once why can’t you do it again” she asked, tugging away the bag from you as it reached near emptiness.
God you wished it was that easy. You sometimes envied how little she thought of things.
“Yeah, I guess…” your hands reach for the ends of your hair, twisting them around your fingertips. “Okay but how do I even get back to him on it?”
“Yeah well your first mistake was responding with that, but like just text him? We’re not living in the fucking 19th century, sms exists.”
“Yeah okay, am I just supposed to send ‘Hi Jake! So after much consideration, I am now getting back to you on it! And yes I would totally love casually fucking you xoxo yn!!’” you replied sarcastically
“Okay, you know that’s not what I mean. If you’ve got the general premise down, just send it. Not like you’re opposed to it so…” Zuha said handing you your phone with her Calbee chip dust-covered fingers.
Taking the phone and wiping the grime off, you opened your chat with Jake. Typing and retyping over and over again trying to form the perfect message your finger hovered over the send button while you battled your internal warfare.
Too immersed in the constant back and forth fogging your mind you failed to stop Zuha from taking the phone from your grasp and sending the message for you.
“KAZUHA NAKAMURA. UNSEND THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW” you frantically cried out ripping the phone from her hands, you scrambled for the unsend button but were disappointingly greeted with a notification at the top of your screen.
Jake Sim (Hookup)
Cool! So this Friday?
What the hell did you just get yourself into
Sure enough, Friday came and you found yourself stretched across Jake Sim’s bed dressed in one of his oversized shirts. God, you didn’t think you would be here again. Mindlessly scrolling through Instagram while Jake pulled a grey hoodie over his body before adjusting himself next to you, subtly inviting you to lay your head on his shoulder. (Obviously, you didn’t get the hint)
Putting down your phone to the side, your hands reached to fidget with the seams of his sleeves.
“Do you-” you were cut off by the embarrassingly loud rumble of your stomach.
“Oh, are you hungry?” Jake glanced down, eyes widened and head slightly cocked to the left.
“Um, kinda..” you responded, god wasn’t he supposed to be the awkward one.
“Do you want some ramen?” He said propping himself a bit more before mentally cussing at himself realising the implication of his words “I mean, not in like- that way. Well I guess kinda in that way, we did just-”
“Ramen sounds great!” you quickly cut in before he could finish his sentence, ripping the comforters off your bodies already heading towards the door.
To your surprise, Jake Sim was a pretty good cook. Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration considering it was just Chapaguri and steak, but hell was that one good bowl of Chapaguri. Spooning the noodles into your mouth, Jake placed a cut of steak onto your plate. Weird. That was, thoughtful. Probably a force of habit you reasoned to yourself.
“So um can I ask,” you paused to wipe your mouth “Am I seriously the only other girl you’ve slept with, or is you sleeping with only 1 person before me just a rumour?”
Jake’s arm stretched towards the nape of his neck while the other placed another piece of steak onto your plate before answering. “Uh, I mean in college, yeah. I haven’t had much luck seeing too many people. Kinda the reason you’re here”
“Well I guess that’s not too surprising”
“Oh yeah?” Jake asked tauntingly leaning back into his chair “What’s that supposed to mean hm?”
“I’m just saying I’m not surprised that the dude who spent his free periods researching Quantum mechanics can’t pull.” you teased back with a sly smile
“Uh-huh,” he replied putting another piece of food onto your plate “Well I’ll have you know I managed to hook up with at least like- 2 people in high school”
“Yeah and I don’t do ballet.” you came back snarkily
“Hey! I can even list them for you if you don’t believe me.” Jake chuckled slightly while adjusting the collar of his hoodie
“Yeah, and I bet it was real hard remembering that list of 2 people” Laughing in response Jake reached for a can of coke before opening it and placing it in front of you.
Again, weird. As you got talking you realised Jake Sim maybe wasn’t as awkward or dorkish as everyone claimed him to be. Okay well partly your fault for believing assumptions and jumping to conclusions, but after the initial nerves wore down he was pretty chill. Which led you to wonder, “Hey why don’t you talk to girls? I mean you’re pretty much a natural at this.”
“Oh.” Jake replied a bit flattered, “Well, I don’t think I’m a natural, like when I tried to talk with Minyoung after we hooked up it was a mess.” hands now fiddling with the skin at his fingertips, “I guess with you it’s sorta, comfortable?”
Your actions came to an instant halt, comfortable? You shook it off thinking it was because you guys knew each other beforehand, yeah definitely that.
“So you did manage to get with one of the gymnastic girls.” you said trying to divert the topic
“Well not really, she kinda ghosted me after that..” Jake answered looking down at the marble countertop
“Why?”
“Well as you said, I can’t really pull” you giggled in response while still forking down mouthfuls of chapaguri
“Hey, don’t laugh with your mouth full.” Jake scolded before taking his thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth, an action you once again brushed off to be a force of habit. Still, you couldn’t deny, if you actually did like Jake in that way you would’ve folded instantly.
He smiled slightly and ruffled your hair before taking your empty bowl and beginning to wash it, weird.
Hooking up with Jake became more natural and common as time went on, it somewhat integrated itself into your routine:
Hook up, go eat, then go about your separate ways.
Over time you got to know Jake more and more, past his initially dorky interests you learned a few things about him:
He was a huge dog lover - similarly to you - and had a golden retriever named Layla
He was surprisingly funny, if he got comfortable with you at least
Despite being awkward as fuck, he was way more extroverted than you. He just needed to be around one of his friends for that to shine through.
He wasn’t called a star soccer player for nothing, you’d initially never expected scraggly little Jake Sim to win so many medals and trophies in high school. No wonder he got in with a scholarship.
It wasn’t like Jake told you these things outwardly, but you never failed to catch onto how his eyes had a slight glimmer within them when describing his ‘best friend’ who you later found out to be his childhood pet. Or how whenever there was a short silence between you two he took it as an opportunity to crack a small joke. And you knew on a surface level that Jake was a pretty friendly guy, but you just never realised how long his social battery truly lasted; that man had a motor mouth. The soccer thing however was something you always had a slight clue about, in high school most of his lunch breaks and evenings after school would be spent in the field with Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon. Back then you assumed he didn’t have anything better to do, so the numerous medals that spanned across the walls of his room were a bit of a shock to you.
But it’s not like you cared about Jake like that, you were just…observant.
Jake was nice, it was fun being his friend but you didn’t go out of your way to try and hang out with Jake in real life. Really, it’s not like you guys were close like that. Neither of you bothered to try and cross that boundary, that was until today at least.
“Hey.” Jake said, smiling as he sat down in front of you. Your eyes faltered from their usual unbothered gaze, your pupils dilating a bit in shock. Hell, there are around 200 other seats in the athlete’s dining hall, yet he had to sit in front of you.
Maybe your pastel pink Lululemon jacket was the drawing point, probably so bright it made you the first person he noticed making him sit with you out of convenience, at least you would like to tell yourself that. “Oh, hi Jake. Uh- don’t you have practice? I mean usually I never see you at the dining hall when I come to eat” You slowly realised how stalker-ish that sounded “not like. I’m tracking your schedule or anything like that. don’t get the wrong idea”
Jake let out a breathy laugh in hopes of breaking the awkward tension surrounding the table (he remained unsuccessful) “Yeah, uh practice got cancelled. So I’m here earlier than expected.”
“Cool cool” you let out nonchalantly. And there you were back to square one, the same awkward tension overwhelming the atmosphere. God how could you be this awkward with a guy you basically had a bi-weekly fuck schedule with. “So uh, you going to Soobin’s party this weekend? the whole soccer team is gonna be there, including me” he said the last part in almost a whisper.
“Oh uh, I haven’t really thought about it. Kazuha is going, so I’ll probably go with” You replied still staring down at your measly plate of japchae, barely touched. “Uh I think I should go study-” you frantically said in an exasperated sigh in hopes to remove herself from any more unwanted conversation starters you would have to pull out of her ass.
“But you haven’t even touched your food?” Jake said clearly not getting the hint. But also he was genuinely worried, I mean yeah typically soccer players and ballerinas' diets are obviously different with their portion sizes, but he still took health very seriously. “I’m not that hungry anyway.” you said slowly getting up to leave
“Wait, do you do this often? skip meals?” Jake asked, his eyes glazed over with a concerned expression, one you hadn’t seen before.
“Oh I mean, most times it's not intentional, I get busy with practice”
“Hold on” Jake muttered before getting up and heading outside. Leaving you haphazardly standing up holding your plate of food. You sat down again poking at the unfinished scraps of carrots, “This man cannot take a hint” you muttered.
Jake then returned pocky and Pocari sweat in hand. “Uh here, it’s good for electrolytes” he said while handing you the bottle “Oh and, eat this after practice or something, you need carbs and sugar”. Slightly taken aback you slowly took both items in hand, a slight warmth forming in the pits of your stomach. “oh you didn’t really have to-”
“I wanted to.” Jake replied cutting you off, suddenly embarrassed at his boldness he absently reached to the nape of his neck (a habit you noticed he did when he was flustered) “Uh anyways, I’ve gotta go to office hours now. But try not to skip meals, it’s not that good for you, you’re an athlete so..” he trailed off mumbling the last bits to himself, all while looking down to the floor. The weird tension in the air was still there but, somehow it was a little more bearable, well for you at least. “Thanks, uh I’ll pay you back-”
“Don’t bother!” he scrambled to say shooting his head up, pushing your approaching hand back. Fuck that reply was way too quick. “Uh, it’s on me! Don’t worry about it really.” slowly backing away he failed to notice how his legs seemed to trample over each other almost knocking himself down. He (thankfully) regained his balance “Bye YN!”
Blinking in what you think is a mixture of disbelief, amusement, and confusion you managed to mutter out a small “Thank you”
Safe to say that interaction left you both pretty embarrassed.
Most times you went to Jake's house it usually ended in lighthearted conversations over a plate of food. However, some nights were just spent as the two of you lay in his bed looking up at his ceiling talking about everything and anything; these were the nights you found yourself enjoying the most. Tonight luckily happened to be one of them.
“Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jake said before settling down next to you “Have you seriously never had a friend with benefits before?”
“Hm? Why do you ask?” you said before moving to lay between Jake’s legs, head resting upon his thigh.
“Ah you know, Just curious” He replied looking down at you with a slight smile. Did his eyes always look that pretty?
“No actually, I wasn’t really one for keeping a casual relationship with one person for a long time. I got bored too quickly, not that I’m bored of you. I did have a lot of hookups though, those were a bit more fun” you replied; a small smile formed across your face while recalling nostalgic high school memories.
“That’s interesting…” you noticed a slight hesitation lingering in his words.
“Why d’you sound so confused huh” Gently nudging his thigh you laughed.
“Nothing nothing! I just, you know, didn’t really expect that from you. I don’t know in high school you were kinda- perfect? Like the captain of the dance team, student council secretary, and straight-A student; not to mention you were practically already on the road to Decelis with a scholarship. I didn’t really expect you to…”
“What, be a whore?” you butted in jokingly
Jake’s hand reached out to run through your hair, grinning softly before responding “You know that’s not what I meant.”
Chuckling in response your hands reached to fiddle with the ends of your hair. “Kidding, I get what you mean though. I - well my mom - tried hard to keep up the good girl act. But I was a teenager with the whole house to myself and a huge lack of self-discipline so…yeah”
“Was your mom never really there or…” Jake asked looping your hair around his fingers, shit was that too invasive?
Thankfully you responded whilst twiddling with the hem of your (well his) t-shirt. “Uh, no not really, I guess. Well, she was there, but just always working” Jesus why were you telling him this shit, not like you wanted to it was all just kinda- spilling out. “I mean I don’t hold it against her, it’s literally the reason I got to do ballet and attend this school in the first place”
“But?” Jake asked expectantly. Fuck why was he asking you this shit? Did he seriously think trauma dumping would fill the void of intimacy you two shared?
“No I mean there isn’t really a but- well there kinda is. I don't know, it gets kinda lonely…only child and all. But I know she did it all for my own good, she knows what's best for me” the last part coming out a bit strained, “I just was kinda on my own for a while I guess… that’s probably why she signed me up for ballet classes when I was younger”
“Oh, she was the one who signed you up?”
“Yeah, she was, actually!” voice slightly perking up as you recalled fond memories of six year old you lacing up your first ballet flats, “When I was younger I loved dancing so ballet kinda came naturally to me I guess, but yeah ballet was really fun”
“Was?” Jake inquired curiously, his head tilting down to meet his glossy eyes with yours.
“Oh well, I guess it is still kinda fun- but like as I got better at it there seemed to be more expectations from people. It gets kinda stressful you know” you replied with a slight chuckle, hands picking at the skin on your fingers. “It’s partly my fault for not wanting to practise so much anymore, but sometimes it's hard not to notice every little mistake I make when dancing.”
“Well,” Jake began before taking your hand in his and lacing your fingers together “, I think you’re doing just fine. Trust me I’ve never seen a better dancer than you, like you’re seriously amazing”
You giggled slightly while staring at his hand intertwined with yours. Funny, you didn’t think he’d notice that.
“You sure you’re not lying about the whole bitchless thing? Because this,” you said while gesturing to his hand holding yours “, totally not bitchless behaviour”
“Hey, I never said I was bitchless! Just no girlfriend you know.” Jake laughed nervously , becoming all too aware of his actions. He slowly lets go of your hand. A slight blush formed across his face before he cleared his throat to ask “So what about you, no boyfriend?”
“Well, I did have one or two. But as I said, I get bored easily” you answered, still twiddling the hem of your shirt “I dumped both of them, not like there was anything wrong with the relationship- I just kinda have this bad habit of running from things when I notice something just slightly goes wrong. Yeah, it’s stupid really I don’t know why I do it.” Trailing off you slowly became aware that you were crossing the imaginary line you established between you and Jake. Wait, what the fuck were you saying? Why were you telling him this? You didn’t tell anyone this shit. No way Jake Sim, the dude who you were casually hooking up with, was going to be the first person you let in on your issues. Nah, not happening.
“Um anyway! Maybe I should get going now, you have practice anyways.” you sighed, frantically getting up and grabbing your clothes.
“Oh uh, yeah sure…” Jake said slightly startled, his hand reaching for the back of his neck and scratching it while he tried to look the other way as you changed in front of him (not like his head was in between your thighs a few seconds ago)
He walked you out to the doorway of his apartment, keeping a somewhat awkward distance between you guys as he waved while watching you walk out.
“Bye!” he called out delayed, giving you a slight jump.
“Oh, bye!” you said awkwardly facing him, immediately turning back around to speed walk down the hallway.
For some reason even though you had already left he couldn’t get rid of this slight buzz in his stomach, his heart racing ever so slightly while he felt his cheeks heat up. Fuck I’m an idiot, Jake sighed to himself.
“What do you think? Too much?” you asked Kazuha whilst standing in front of her to show off your outfit. You were trying to dress out of your comfort zone by switching up your usual white tank and low-waisted jeans combo to a black tube top paired with a leather miniskirt.
“You look the same YN.” your roommate replied stoically “And what are you so nervous for anyways? What, is it because Jake is picking you up?” she added between snickers.
“What no!” you rushed to respond “And might I remind you that the only reason he’s picking me up is because you ditched on me last minute.”
“Heyyy, I told you I was sorry! But Yunjin won’t be in Korea for much longer and I promised to have a sleepover with her before she leaves!” Kazuha whined in a pout “Promise, next time I get invited to a party you’re number 1 on my waitlist. I swear”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’m the only one on that waitlist right now.” you muttered before reaching for your phone after noticing a notification popping up on your screen.
Jake Sim (Hookup)
Hey I’m waiting outside btw! Also, I brought a jacket just in case you were cold but I realised you might bring your own so uh
Jake Sim (Hookup)
don’t bring a jacket lmao
You smiled to yourself slightly after reading that, to which your roommate seemed to catch.
“Oh lover boy here already hm?” she teased in a playful tone. “Ew god don’t call him that.” you deadpanned before heading out the door.
Now in all honesty you were perfectly fine with going to the party yourself, Soobin’s apartment happened to be a 15-minute walk away from campus and it’s not like the area was relatively unsafe. However, Jake insisted that he pick you up and drop you off, saying something along the lines of it weighing down on his conscience. You can’t say you weren’t thankful to see him jacket in hand and waiting for you in front of the doors to your dorm after you were unpleasantly greeted by the bitter wind blowing in your face. Totally just grateful for the jacket, no other reason.
The walk there was filled with the usual lighthearted jokes and updates on your days, nothing new. You grew to truly enjoy these moments with just you and him, it somewhat felt like it was just the two of you and time stopped. It was nice, you never had someone to listen to you the way he did. However, the peaceful moment shared between you two vanished the minute you stepped into Soobin’s apartment. For a while you forgot that Jake Sim, though being called a dork by half the campus, was still a frat boy and admittedly pretty popular. So imagine the whiplash you got when he was immediately dragged away by Jay, Yuna, and Soobin before he could even say goodbye to you. Not like you cared though, you had plenty of other friends.
A couple of hours had passed and the ‘other friends’ in question seemed to disappear one by one as the night went on. Which is how you winded up in Soobin’s living room on the couch, beer in hand whilst scrolling through TikTok. That was before you heard someone clear their throat. Looking up you were met with Lee Heeseung standing in front of you, head cocked slightly to the side.
“Hey YN, mind if I sit?” he didn’t really wait for your response before plopping himself right next to you.
“Oh, hey Heeseung” you muttered, eyes not leaving your phone. You had talked to Heeseung a couple of times before when you went to meet up with Jake, but you wouldn’t really consider yourself besties with the guy who was the sole reason Jake had even offered to hook up with you.
“What’s up, are you bored? I assume you didn’t come here to scroll TikTok alone.” He joked with a quick chuckle.
“Yeah well I would leave but Jake insisted on taking me back home so it feels kinda rude to leave without him. And he’s obviously very,” you shot your head up to glare at the sight of Jake chatting it up with Jay, Yuna, and Ryujin. What happened to the whole ‘bad at talking to girls’ thing now huh? You scoffed before completing your sentence with a grimace “Preoccupied.”
Heeseung seemed to catch onto your change of tone as the next thing he said was, “Don’t worry Jake’s normally just chatty like this when he’s got one of us around, he really really can’t talk to girls otherwise. Well, obviously not you though, actually he can’t shut up about you.”
Your head perked up at Heeseung's comment “What do you mean?”
“I mean, the guy can’t stop talking about you even when you’re gone. Like telling us about how cool your recitals looked, your favourite foods, what you guys did that day, hell he brings you into practically anything it’s kinda annoying. ‘Oh YN loves that drink’ ‘Oh can you buy one for YN too?’ ‘Hey, this is YN’s favourite song!’ ‘Hey don’t touch that, it's for YN’” Heeseung said in a mocking tone, his hands coming up to mimic small puppets pretending to be Jake.
“Really? You’re probably exaggerating, me and Jake aren’t even that close.” you commented
“Trust me YN, you don’t live with that guy. I feel like I’m even in on your whole friends-with-benefits situation by how much I know about you. Seriously I think he's obsessed-”
“What’cha guys talking about!” you were too engrossed in your conversation you hadn’t noticed that Jake had left Jay and his friends to come join you.
You shot a glare at him before tilting your head down at your drink “Oh you know, just keeping myself entertained” you replied before whipping your head up “Since you were obviously, pretty busy.”
Before Jake could defend himself, Soobin drunkenly called out from the kitchen “Hey guys! Who wants to play spin the bottle!” his words slurred as he held up an empty beer can.
Great, drunk college students and spin the bottle, what could go wrong?
Hesitantly you and Jake made your way to the circle formed on the floor sitting across from each other while everyone else gathered in.
“Okay, so the rules are: you kiss or you drink. Three shots worth of soju may I mention! Who wants to go first?” Soobin asked gesturing to the bottle
“Oooh me me me!” Yuna replied eagerly before placing the bottle down and spinning it, landing on Jisung. One after the other everyone took turns spinning the bottle whilst the rest of the crowd let out shouts and claps of encouragement. You frankly thought this whole thing was stupid. I mean, spin the bottle? What was this a cheesy highschool movie? The bottle eventually reached Karina, she took it in hand and spun it vigorously.
Karina, god how could you even begin to describe Karina? Yoo Karina was top of her class in rhythmic gymnastics, led the student body org, and not to mention was absolutely drop. dead. gorgeous. You concluded in your mind that anyone who got to kiss that woman would be the luckiest person on earth, but that was before the bottle landed on Jake.
“Well pucker up loser” Karina said before moving towards Jake to grab his face and press her lips onto his. You tried to cheer and clap with the rest of the group but you couldn’t ignore the dreadful feeling of your heart dropping to the floor. Pulling away from Karina, you couldn’t brush off how Jake’s eyes immediately came into contact with yours causing your pupils to dilate slightly before you shot your head down to the ground.
Why the hell did you even care this much, wake up YN! It’s Jake, so he kissed another girl, who cares? You guys aren’t even exclusive, pull yourself together! You quickly shook off the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach and joined in with the others chanting “Spin, spin, spin!” as Jake whirled the bottle around with a quick flick of the wrist.
The bottle seemed to spin in slow motion before coming to a reaching its delayed halt and pointing directly at you. Oh fuck.
You braced yourself for the awkward aftermath of the kiss you were bound to face later tonight, god how were you even supposed to face Jake after this? I mean yeah you guys had sex, but you would argue kissing is far more intimate. Your gaze lingered on jake and you watched how his eyes widened in anticipation, his hand again reaching to the nape of his neck absently while the other grabbed the red solo cup and-
Wait what, Jake was taking the drink?
Let it be known that Jake Sim had an infamous reputation of never drinking at parties, for a while people thought he was heavily religious; until it was revealed by sunghoon that in highschool Jake was unexpectedly a huge party animal and no one could possibly keep him away from a beer. Getting into college, he apparently tried to drop the heavy drinking and decided to take his athlete career more seriously. If you were to take Jake's drink at a party you would find either 1 of 3 things: coke zero, a mixture of random fruit juices from a punch bowl that 80% of the party did not touch, or kombucha (surprising to say the least). Yet there he was, drinking about 3 shots worth of soju all in one go. All to avoid kissing you. great.
A pit formed in your stomach as the loud chants seemed to die down, somehow this made you feel like the world's biggest loser. Was kissing you that bad? Hell he was in between your thighs half the time but he would rather drink than kiss you? Why didn’t he kiss you? Why did you want him to kiss you?
Jake let out a slight groan after downing the drink whole, the circle erupted into laughs and whoas but he could only focus on the one person who hadn’t said anything, the one person who was staring straight at him in what Jake could only assume was a mixture of disbelief and anger. Fuck, this totally did not go to plan. Why was she mad? I mean you didn’t say you were mad, but the look in your eyes somewhat gave it away. Jake thought the last thing you wanted to do was kiss him, I mean this whole time you would preach about how you guys were strictly casual and how you wanted nothing to do with him romantically. Jake thought he would save you the trouble, and partly save himself from the prolonged silences on the walk back to your dorm. It’s not like he didn’t benefit from this too I mean, Jake totally could go without kissing you. It’s not like it was a piece of intimacy your “relationship” lacked, not like it was the one thing he’d been longing for. Yep, totally not.
You broke the gaze abruptly when you soon realised how long you’d been staring. Fuck did he notice? He definitely did. Your eyes now fixated on the floor while he stared off awkwardly to the side.
“Your turn YN!” Yuna cheerfully said handing her the bottle, her breath reeked of alcohol it was making you dizzy.
“Uh I think I’ll skip, I’ve had enough drinks for tonight” you replied, accompanied by a nervous chuckle. God, why was the room suddenly spinning? “As a matter of fact,” you quickly got up from your position slowly moving away from the circle, “I think I need to use the bathroom, I’ll sit out this round, you guys can continue though”
“Okay!” Yuna responded, obviously she was too wasted to notice the hesitation lingering in your voice.
You quickly stole a glance at the group behind, more so at the man you were sitting across from a minute ago. Lo and behold, Jake was laughing hazily and chanting encouragements with the others as Ryujin and Hyunjin messily made out. His eyes had a shine which was all too familiar to you, his grin was one you recognised countless times before, and to your dismay: he was completely unaffected by the whole situation.
Great, so he couldn’t give less of a fuck. You thought to yourself. Normally this would be a relief to you, I mean you said yourself you wanted something casual, but if that was the case why did you feel so embarrassingly hollow and empty inside?
You groggily stumbled away from the corner of the room and headed over to the kitchen, maybe a drink would drown out the noises of them chanting “Kiss kiss kiss” Pft, what are they grade schoolers? You snatched a red solo cup and started pouring whatever alcohol was closest in reach, vodka, tequila, soju, beer, you did not give a fuck. You downed the drink whole, slightly gasping for air as you polished it off. Grabbing for another bottle, your hands seemed to meet another. Looking up to see who had a shared interest in… absolut vodka? God you hated that shit, but well right now it seemed tolerable, however you were greeted by the disappointing sight of none other than: Seunghan.
God what was Seunghan doing here, he didn’t even fucking go here. To give some context, Seunghan happened to be your last boyfriend; a senior you used to date who at the time was a huge ego boost to you since you were a year younger. But you inevitably broke up with him before he left for university, even though you promised you would try and make things work long distance. Hell who were you kidding, staying with a highschool senior as a college freshman? Who would want to do that? The last excuse you could spit back at his pathetic face while ending things was “You aren’t even a good fuck” safe to say that bruised his ego a bit.
“Hey YN” he looked at you with an expression you can only make out as: egoistic. You wanted to smack that smug grin off his face, but you weren’t really the one with the upper hand here. I mean who wouldn’t smirk at the sight of their highschool ex absolutely fucking hammered at a college party.
“Hi” you replied coldly, his grip on the alcohol bottle slightly loosened, which you took as an opportunity to snatch out of his hand and pour yourself another drink (probably double of what you were originally planning to pour)
“So,” He paused for a second waiting for you to finish drinking “How's it going, what are you doing here?”
“I kinda go here.” you said in between sips “and shouldn’t I be asking you that, you don’t even go to Decelis.”
“Well someone’s hostile” he let out a chuckle, face still smug “Ah yeah, my friend Soobin, actually invited me. Swim team captain, ring a bell?”
“That's nice Seunghan” your face obviously painted that you didn’t really think so. You started to slowly make your way to the bathroom, not knowing how much longer you could stand being in the same proximity of this asshole.
“Is that it?” Seunghan called out expectantly. What the hell did this man want jesus. You could feel your anger just about boiling over, that and the 4 cups of alcohol in your system just about tipped you over the edge”
“What the hell do you want, Seunghan? An apology? You see me after what 2 years and expect to coax an apology out of me? Yeah not happening. I don’t even know what you’re doing here because clearly last time I checked you didn’t go to Decelis. So yeah, I don’t really know what you want from me but if it's an apology or something, sorry to disappoint.”
“Woah woah, calm down there” Seunghan said, arms up seeming to gesture he meant no harm, the smirk on his face displayed otherwise.
You were ready to spit out another insult at him, maybe add a punch into the mixture, until a pair of hands gently grabbed your shoulder. You whipped your head backwards to see Jake smiling awkwardly at Seunghan and scratching the back of his head nervously. “Sorry about that, she's kinda drunk right now so I think we’ll get going!”
You want to retort back that you aren't, but before doing so Seunghan cuts you off “who are you again.”
Instead of the smug grin that adorned his face earlier, a weirdly serious expression was now plastered across him. Weird. Was he trying to assert dominance or something? You giggled to yourself a bit at the idea, slowly looking up at Jake to see what his response was. Maybe they would have a standoff, battle it out like in the movies. Instead a grin was still shining on his face, except something was off. His gaze looked harsher, juxtaposing the warm smile on the lower half of his face. Something behind his eyes signalled that he wasn’t going to take any bullshit, funny you thought. You weren't used to seeing this side of Jake, it was an amusing sight to say the least.
“Jake her,” he hesitated for a second “boyfriend. But I don’t think that matters really, I've gotta get YN home now” He quickly grabbed your wrist to lead you away and out the door, seemingly a bit too quick that it had you stumbling over your steps, or maybe that was the alcohol talking.
“Woww, look at that you can actually stick up for yourself! You know that was kinda funny, what were you trying to assert dominance or something? Thanks for saying you were my boyfriend though, god I don’t think he would be able to leave me alone otherwise” you said in between chuckles whilst shutting the door behind you, but jake remained silent. Weird, was he just drunk too?
It’s not like you weren't used to the silence, hell it’s what took up most of your conversations (well lack of conversation more like). You remained quiet until the both of you got back to your dorm, you were weirdly too intimidated to say anything. Not intimidated by him, god no. More so the situation, you’d been used to the awkward silence, the post sex silences, the comfortable silences, but this was a different silence, one you weren’t really sure how to react towards. Once in your dorm, Jake finally said something to break the tension.
“Who was that guy?” he asked, gaze averted down to the floor and hand absently reaching for the nape of his neck, there he goes again you think. ”Seunghan,” you said while pulling over your tube top to change into an oversized shirt, which you realised was one you stole from Jake a while back “, just some ass I dated in highschool, doesn’t really matter.”
Jake's gaze was still stuck on the dorm carpet, his hand now picking at his cuticles. “Was he bothering you? I mean I couldn’t really tell but you looked uncomfortable, so like…yeah I don’t know”
You chuckled, cute you think. Wait fuck did you really just find what he did cute. Did you just fucking giggle. A flustered blush seems to form across your face whilst thinking of your actions. Get a grip YN it’s jake fucking sim, hes an awkward mess, an awkward mess you’re casually fucking. You can’t be doing this.
“Uh, I mean kinda. I was going to punch him so you probably saved me the collateral. Thanks though, it was nice” you said, tucking away your boots still facing away from him; embarrassed at the thought of you being the least bit flustered over his actions.
“Ah…” Jake trailed off. Fuck what was he meant to say now, well he knew what he wanted to say. He wanted to ask if it was weird that he called himself her boyfriend, but you didn’t seem to care so it would be weird if he brought it up now. I mean, not like he cared. a little white lie to save you some trouble, no biggie.
“Are you down to..” you asked nonchalantly, turning your head around to face him. He adorned his typical lost expression, god he was really clueless.
“You know, fuck.” you assumed it was the alcohol in your system talking, you were clearly very tipsy, that plus your pent up frustration from tonight was the perfect mixture for a good hookup. Or maybe you were just plain old horny, probably the case you thought to yourself. Definitely wasn’t the way Jake's hair was a perfect fluffy mess, or how his face seemed to have a slight glow to it (probably the drinks), or his eyes that were weirdly more iridescent than usual, yeah totally not that.
Jake's eyes widened a bit, taken aback by the request but definitely not surprised. “YN you’re drunk,” he said with a sigh, grabbing your shoulders and sitting you down on the edge of your mattress, “I'd love to but, maybe next time?” he said with a gentle grin, his dimples slightly poking out.
fuck was he leaving already? Before he could go any further you quickly grabbed his wrist. Jake, startled, looked back at you like a deer in headlights. Only to be met with an equally as shocked gaze, shit all this alcohol was making your body move before you could even think.
“Uh, can you just…” you wince a bit at the thought of what would come out next, “stay. Just until I fall asleep, I feel kinda…lonely?” The end came out in a mumble as your eyes laid fixated on the floor. A blush formed across Jake's face, but he quickly snapped himself out of whatever haze he was in. She’s drunk jake. It doesn't mean anything.
He plastered on the gentle grin that adorned his face earlier, smiling at her with endearment. “Alright, uhm just scoot over a bit”
Moving awkwardly to the side to make room for Jake on the bed he shortly joined you, adjusting himself next to you moving your head to atop his arm while the other pulled you in closer allowing him to rest his chin on top of your hair. Everything about this moment felt much too intimate to be shared between two people who were just casually fucking. You could feel your heartbeat slightly quicken and your breath hitching in your throat. However as time passed on you began to feel yourself slowly relax into Jake’s touch, allowing yourself to enjoy the feeling of his hand combing through your hair whilst the other reached to trace circles along the small of your back. His warmth next to you felt all too natural, like this was meant to be. Like you weren’t just two strangers who decided to hook up, like you two were everything and more.
“Sometimes I wish this was real” you sighed out, clearly letting the liquor in your system do the talking
“Don’t know how hammered you got but you’re definitely not dreaming right now YN.” Jake said in a low chuckle. Fuck you could listen to his laugh for ages.
“Not this, I mean us.”
“Oh.” Jake could feel his body go stiff as heat rushed up to his cheeks. He knew you were drunk, but some part of him hoped this was sober you.
“You’re too sweet for me sometimes you know? Makes me wish you weren’t my friend and my boyfriend instead, then again don’t think I’m ready for that either. Well sometimes you make me feel like I’m ready, I don’t know, it's weird. Being with you feels so…natural? Like I’ve known you since we were kids- I guess we kinda have known each other for a while, makes me regret not talking to you enough in highschool. You were always pretty cute despite being a dork” rambling on you nuzzled your head closer to his chest. Fuck Jake was practically begging you couldn’t hear the intense racing of his heart.
“How much did you drink YN?” he stuttered out
“Oh you know, just enough to make me forget everything about that party. Stupid Seunghan ruined my night. You know when you called yourself my boyfriend, yeah I really liked that, some part of me hoped you meant it. I guess I like you a little more than I expected, super stupid right…” you said trailing off as you fell further into your slumber; words slurred as a mixture of drunkenness and exhaustion took over your body.
“You like me?” Jake asked stunned, after garnering no response he tilted his head down slightly to face you. Your face looked so peaceful sleeping he didn’t have the heart to wake you up. How cute, he thought to himself.
“Goodnight YN.” he whispered before pulling you closer to him and dozing off himself.
As the sun rose, beams of light made its way through the curtains to shine brightly on your face rudely waking you up. You slowly opened your heavy eyelids before stretching out your arms, only to be met with the shocking sight of Jake passed out next to you.
Jolting up immediately, you had to do a double take to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Unfortunately this wasn’t a dream and you really did wake up next to Jake Sim, this being the second time you’ve done this with no recollection of what happened the night before. Frantically you tried to recall all the events that happened after Seunghan approached you; slowly but surely everything from last night rushed back to you in an instant, including your drunken confession to Jake.
Fuck fuck fuck FUCK. What the hell was your issue? Why would you say all that? Jesus you seriously needed to stop drinking, you always ended up in Jake’s bed hungover. God could he have remembered anything that happened last night, he couldn't have right? He was probably drunk too, fuck you hoped he was drunk.
“YN, you’re up already?” Jake said as his hand groggily rubbed his eyes, the other reaching over to your wrist.
“Oh uh yeah!” you replied, face flushed with embarrassment before you quickly snapped your hand away from his touch “Hey this is weird but did I happen to say anything weird last night, I was like really drunk.” You winced expecting him to answer with a harsh reminder of your drunken words but instead he only uttered a small “Nope, not anything out of the ordinary”
Sighing in relief you let out a small thank god before getting up to go get dressed, Jake shortly following you like a lost puppy. Still yawning out and half asleep he groaned out a small “Hey, what time is it, by the way?”
“Oh um,” you quickly grabbed your phone to check “9:30.”
Jakes seemed to immediately wake up, shouting “Oh fuck, I’m late!” He quickly grabbed his belongings before rushing out the door, before haphazardly rushing back in quickly to tell you “Uhm if you need Tylenol let me know I’ll go pick it up for you, bye YN gotta go!”
Despite being in a rush, Jake was always so attentive towards you, something you were always grateful for; another habit you grew to love about him.
“He's so sweet” you whispered under your breath to yourself before snapping your head up to face yourself in the mirror. Splashing water on yourself you pointed at your reflection before reminding yourself how badly this would end if you kept going on with this little crush.
You do not like Jake Sim. You will not like Jake Sim.
Days passed and after that night it was safe to say things got pretty awkward between you and Jake. You were in desperate hopes of avoiding him any chance you got, that of course was a lost cause as you guys still were hooking up every other week. However, you made it your mission to not interact with him outside of his apartment, not in classes, not in the gym, not at parties, nowhere. This seemed to be your brain's deluded way of trying to help you get over your crush on him.
Jake on the other hand had a sense of why you were avoiding him, the whole drunken confession probably didn’t sit right with you. Jake didn’t really want to push it and force his way into your life if you weren’t comfortable, even though he desperately missed the days you spent every second together like best friends, he knew he wasn’t in a position to be complaining. But as time went on your missing presence began to eat away at Jake’s mind, he couldn’t take it anymore.
Which is how he ended up rushing to move seats over to sit next to you when you entered the chemistry classroom.
“Hey YN.”
“Oh, Jake hi…”
“You ready for today’s presentation?” he asked after noticing you diligently reading over your flashcards.
“Oh god no, I’m cooked.” you replied with a nervous laugh.
“Don’t worry I’m sure you’ll do great, you always do.” Jake reassured with a warm smile. How did he always manage to say the right things?
You flashed him a quick smile before whispering “Thank you.”
Sure enough a few minutes later you found yourself in front of the three hundred students in that lecture room trying not to stumble over your words as you presented about Electrochemistry. Everything was going fine at first, not to toot your own horn but you were pretty much guaranteed an easy A for this project. That was all until it came crumbling down. You stopped dead in your tracks as you felt a familiar warm feeling gathering between your thighs. Fuck, did you just get your period?
“And u-uh, as I was saying…” you tried to continue the presentation and ignore the fact that your period was looming over you like the grim reaper, threatening to drip down your legs and publicly embarrass yourself in front of the whole class.
The easy A you were so sure about now seemed out of reach as a lump formed in your throat while you stuttered with tears threatening to spill over your eyes. Quickly finishing up your half assed paragraph on Faraday’s law you bolted out the classroom the moment you were excused back to your seat.
Rushing down the hall into the bathroom to clean yourself up, you were frustratingly met with the sight of blood stained jeans. Trying to pull down your shirt to hastily cover up the stain was no use, god out of all days to not bring an extra pad. Why did it have to be today?
Sighing in agony you decided it would be a good idea to just head home instead of returning to class, hell you’d embarrassed yourself enough after that how could you even walk back into the lecture hall after that mess?
Leaving the backroom with your head down and hand searching your bag hoping a spare pad would manage to appear out of thin air, you failed to notice Jake standing right in front of you (well that was until you bumped into him).
“YN, you okay?” his eyes graced with concern, oh so he’s still attentive as ever it seems. “Was it your presentation? I thought it was great-”
“I got my period.” you blurt out in a rush at the same time, eyes still stuck on the ground as you didn’t have the guts to face him right now “and like, yeah it's a mess so…I kinda just want to get home and change.” you finished with a frustrated sigh.
“Ah I see” Jake replied before looking down to notice the dark patch on your jeans.
Before you could go any further he wordlessly stripped off his hoodie before wrapping it around your waist. No words were spoken between you two but the tension arguably spoke much louder than words ever could.
“I’ll come get it back later okay? Don’t worry about it” he said before knotting it a final time around your waist to secure it in place.
“Oh, thank you Jake…” you mumbled
“Hey YN.” he started, making you finally whip your head up to meet his eyes. His face detailed with hesitation, mouth slightly agape, eyes glossed over with doubt and hand again reaching for the nape of his neck nervously, “um, sorry it’s nothing actually- just uh, don’t be a stranger you know?” he continued with a slight shrug. So he did notice you distancing yourself.
“Oh,” you stuttered, not really sure of what to reply with “alright…”
And with that you made your way back to the dorm, uncertainty lingering in the air around you following its way back to your dorm. Sprawling across your mattress you stared up at the ceiling lost in thought. This wasn’t going to end well.
“YN you keep doing this!” your dance teacher snapped before banging a ruler on the metal bar in front of her. You flinched slightly as the loud bang rang through your ears before going to pause the music.
“How many times do I have to remind you?” she let out in an exasperated sigh, fingers reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose, “your legs aren’t straight and your feet aren’t pointed either! These are basic things even beginners could get, I expect more from you! What would your mother think, hm? She invested all this money in you just for you to fall short of your abilities. You’re my top student, you cannot be performing like this when the recital is just a few months away! Pull yourself together before I choose another person to take your place, lesson dismissed.” she bellowed out before storming out the classroom. Leaving you collapsed on the ground, face flushed with disappointment as you stared at your dishevelled reflection in the mirror.
Fuck she was right, what were you doing? You should be better than this, why weren’t you improving? God your mom spent so much time and money on this and you were just letting her down, you couldn’t do anything right. You were becoming a bigger failure than you realised and you didn’t know how to stop it. How were you meant to be the perfect ballerina when you didn’t even know how to be the perfect daughter? You knew you were better than this but why couldn’t you live up to it. Why did you keep messing up?
Slowly tears began pouring out your eyes before the practice room was practically engulfed in your sobs. You however stopped your crying when you noticed the door crack open.
“YN?” Jake murmured out with a worried look painted across his face, “what happened, what’s wrong?” he asked while rushing over to your side.
“Oh Jake, god please don’t look I’m a mess right now” quickly you tried to wipe your tears and nervously laugh before Jake stopped you and took your hands in his.
“YN, honestly I couldn’t care less about how you look right now. What’s wrong? Why are you crying hm?” His face had the same serious gaze from the party when he confronted Seunghan, “It’s okay, you can tell me.”
Hearing that you finally broke down sobbing as he pulled you in closer to his chest, hand running through your hair while whispering small words of comfort. “Jake I can’t do this anymore, I keep messing up in everything I do! I don’t know why I can’t just be the person everyone wants me to be, I’m a failure.” you cried out between sobs.
“Hey hey don’t say that, look at me.” he gently took your face in his hands before tilting it up to meet his gaze, “Okay so maybe you’re not the person everyone wants you to be, and hey maybe you aren’t perfect-”
“Not helping.” you deadpanned
“Yeah well, I wasn’t done. Point is you’re not that but, you're YN. You’re exactly who you need to be right now, and you’re doing your best. Maybe that isn’t perfect but hey nobody’s perfect, you just keep such high standards for yourself you can never get a chance to breathe. It’s okay to make a few mistakes here and there, we all do, we’re only human. If it means anything, in my eyes you’re doing everything right. You’re perfect, okay YN?”
This only made you sob harder into his chest. Jake wasn’t complaining though, he only brought you closer and tightened his grip around you. Hands still running through your hair to lull you back into a relaxed state.
After finally calming down you wiped the remnants of tears on your face before loosening yourself from Jake’s embrace. Awkwardly laughing before asking “Uhm, why did you come here in the first place again?”
“Oh right that. I needed to get my hoodie back and Zuha said you’d be here, didn’t really expect to see you crying all alone though” he commented with a quick chuckle
“Oh shit yeah,” you said before reaching over to your bag to try and find his hoodie, Jake however grabbed your wrist to stop you, “Never mind that okay YN? You had a pretty rough day, let’s just get you back to your dorm alright?”
“But your hoodie-”
“And up we go!” he exclaimed before lifting you up by the arms and pushing you to get out of that practice room.
The walk back to your dorm was filled with Jake endlessly checking up on you, asking “Are you sure you’re okay” every five minutes. You reassured him time after time that you seriously were fine before finally losing patience and snapping “Jake Sim. If you don’t stop, I will actually not be okay.”
“Okay okay! Just checking!” he said before whipping his arms up to feign in defeat.
Reaching your dorm, you awkwardly stood at the doorway waiting for Jake to leave and bid you goodbye but instead he just sorta awkwardly stood there staring at you.
“Yes?”
“Oh um just- call me? If you ever need someone to talk to, you know?”
“Thanks Jake, but I’m not really looking to make my friend my pseudo therapist right now.” you joked.
“I know I know, just reminding you. You’ve got me, ‘kay?” Jesus, you could never get over how warm his smile made you feel.
“Alright, thanks Jake” You sighed out before slowly closing your door. After shutting it you immediately dropped to the floor, head buried into your knees. You hated this. You hated how without fail, no matter how long you avoided him, Jake Sim always managed to make butterflies spawn in your stomach and your heart to beat out of your chest. He always knew the right things to say and how to make you feel like the world stopped and purely revolved around the two of you. You hated how badly you’ve fallen for Jake Sim.
To give some preface, the only times Jake and you had kissed were:
The first time you’d two ever hooked up when you were drunk out of your mind and too blacked out to remember a thing
The second time you’d hooked up; which technically wasn’t even a kiss because you stopped him as his lips ghosted over yours, almost connecting. You argued that it would be weird for you two to kiss since you only agreed on hooking up with each other, which you added did not involve kissing.
You two mutually agreed that your relationship would involve no kissing between the two of you. This however did not stop the fact that Jake refusing to kiss you at the party bugged you more than it should have, leading you to blurt out on a random Wednesday afternoon:
“You didn’t kiss me.”
Jake stopped midway through unbuckling his belt. “What?”
“I mean, at Soobin’s party, you didn’t do it” your eyes glued down to the bed sheets while your hands came up to fiddle with the ends of your hair “I mean you kissed Karina, why not me?”
“I mean…I can kiss you now if you want?”
“Yeah but then you’d only be kissing me because I asked you to do it.” you grunted out in annoyance “But when you were told to kiss me in front of others you didn’t, but you could kiss Karina so easily”
“I thought you didn’t want me to kiss you?” Jake countered, his tone becoming more argumentative.
“When did I ever say that?” you tried to say nonchalantly, but instead your words spat out like an accusation. Fuck what were you doing?
“Yeah okay well, kissing her meant nothing” Jake said in a bit of an exasperated sigh, his brows slightly furrowing together. Well Jake knew it wasn’t just that, but hell who was he to bring that up right now
“Yeah well, we’ve been fucking for 6 months, not like that means anything” For some reason this stung a bit for Jake, god he hated that it did.
“YN why does it matter.” he retorted back, the question coming out sharper than he intended
“Technically I’m saying it doesn't.” you let out a slightly stifled breathy laugh in an attempt to break the tension, obviously it doesn’t work “What do you not want to kiss me or something?”
No. God no it was the complete opposite. That was practically the only thing he’d thought about for the past month. But Jake couldn’t admit this now, first off to save him from looking like some desperate loser, and second: you just went on to elaborate on how kissing him meant virtually nothing to you. That them kissing was nothing. Jesus, how could he tell you only now that to him, it was something.
The silence filling the room meant one of the two things you concluded: Jake was either mustering up the courage to give you the best kiss of your life or he did not want to be anywhere near your lips. You opted for the latter.
“I’ll take that as a no.”, you swiftly got up from your previous straddled position to grab your designated ‘walk of shame’ hoodie and collect your things. Clearly, this wasn’t going anywhere. “It's fine Jake really. Just forget I ever asked. It was stupid, and uh, I’ve got practice so I think i’ll get going” you said absently while touching up your makeup
Jake hastily buckled his jeans back up and pulled his grey crewneck over his head. But you were practically out the door before he could finish. “Wait, YN…” he called out stumbling behind you trying to catch up
“Jake, seriously just drop it. It was stupid okay. And I’ve actually got a lot of stretching to do today, so I’ve gotta get going.” You attempted to make the end sound cheery and like you totally didn’t have a lump forming in the depth of your throat. To your dismay, emotions ended up getting the better of you and the words left your tongue stung with bitterness.
“YN I’m sor-” he attempted to stutter out, but you were obviously not hearing him through. “Bye Jake.”
God, she couldn’t even look at me when leaving.
“Bye.” Jake let out defeatedly, only to be met with the slam of a door in his face.
“fuck…” you both thought.
“YN come on you’ve been cooped up in the dorm for weeks! Let’s go out tonight, I doubt Jake will even be at the party. Besides you were on my ass about not going with you last time, now the invitation is practically handed to you on a silver platter and you don’t even accept it?!” Zuha said as she rolled next to your curled up body that laid like a corpse on your bed. She was right though, you spent the next few weeks skipping all your classes and only going out to eat and go to practice that the colour from your face was practically drained. You looked like a total zombie to put it lightly.
“Yeah I won’t, I’m not in the mood to go out tonight”
“You’re never in the mood! Come on, what good is it to stay stuck in your room pitying yourself while bingeing K-dramas? That’s never gonna help you get over it, a couple of drinks is what you need!” you partly blamed Kazuha for your excessive drinking, she always managed to help you get out of a heartbreak by getting you blackout drunk.
“Ugh Zuha, who's even going to be at this party anyways? Isn’t it the same old people?” you argued before pulling the covers over your head in hopes it would magically make you disappear from sight.
“No actually it’s not, a couple of people from SM are hosting. You know, the uni Minjeong goes to? I heard SM parties are like, next level. And besides you can meet some new people, don’t you think that’s the perfect way to help you get over this loser?”
“Hey, he isn’t a loser!”, you quickly argued, springing up from your previously snuggled position, “just like- yeah anyways not the point. I guess, maybe…it would help?”
Before you could even finish your thought Zuha immediately pulled you up and sprung into action. “Okay, perfect. Here, wear this.” she said before tossing pieces of clothing at your face.
Holding them up you weren’t even sure if she gave you a proper shirt, it was way more revealing than you were used to. “Did you cut this shirt up or something?”
“No, I didn’t you prude. And besides, don't you wanna look cute? Those SM guys won’t know what’s hit them. Trust me.” she said while absently applying lip gloss.
Hesitantly you wiggled into the outfit before checking yourself out in the mirror. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t even convince yourself that you felt confident. Maybe some makeup would help. Propping yourself on the bathroom counter you began to cake on layers of foundation, blush, and eyeshadow. Finishing it off with a muted pink lip.
This is good, you’re fine! You’re going to have fun tonight. You muttered under your breath, repeating it like a mantra. God you hoped you could have fun tonight.
Entering the apartment you were immediately hit with a wave of loud music blaring through your ears, god you couldn’t even hear what Zuha was saying right next to you. She was right, SM parties are next level. You could see a couple people gathered round a table playing beer pong, seeing Minjeong and a few other familiar faces. You decided to join them, and despite being the worst one there you had to admit it was really fun. Now that a few drinks were in your system you seemed to loosen up, completely forgetting about the worries that had plagued your mind this morning. You grabbed a drink and made your way over to the kitchen where you spotted Zuha and Heeseung talking. Hold on, Heeseung? If he’s here then…
You scanned the apartment, eyes wandering to the living room where numerous people seemed to be chatting away enthusiastically. Moving further into the area your eyes darted across each face trying to spot your target, and that was when you saw him. There he was, red solo cup in hand, looking directly at you.
Shit, you were gonna kill Zuha, what was Jake doing here? You scrambled to try and get away from him after making eye contact, but before you could slip away you felt a hand grab your wrist. God damn it.
“YN, can we talk?” Jake begged with pleading eyes, fuck you’d never seen him this desperate, “please.”
You nodded your head slightly before he dragged you to an empty room.
“Okay you said you wanted to talk, so talk.” you demanded, still slightly buzzed. Your confidence fueled with alcohol and sheer pettiness
“Listen,” Jake said before pausing to collect his thoughts, “I’m sorry for, well yeah all of it. I shouldn’t have kissed Karina that night, it’s just we aren’t exclusive or anything so I figured-”
“Yeah we weren’t, but honestly Jake I couldn’t give less of a fuck” a bold-faced lie. Jake scoffed, he was trying to patch things up and you were seriously giving him this attitude?
“Yeah sure sounds like it”
“Yeah I don’t, I just think it’s messed up that you don’t kiss me and then proceed to call yourself my boyfriend”
“Please, that was because Seunghan was bothering you! What was I supposed to do just let a creep keep harassing you? Do you even remember what happened that night YN?”
“No and as I said I couldn’t give a fuck”
“Well, I do. You can’t just tell me you like me and pretend it was nothing” fuck so he did remember
“Okay well,” You stuttered out, anger simmering within you “I was drunk. I wasn’t in my right mind that night, so yeah it was nothing. Why does it even matter if I like you or not, you said from the start that what we had was casual.”
God were you serious right now? Jake could feel his heart hurt a little and his previously confident stance faltering, “Yeah well we obviously haven’t been acting very ‘casual’ as of late.”
“Why does that even fucking matter Jake, I don’t know why you care so much!”
“Obviously because I fucking caught feelings!” Jake’s mouth seemed to work faster than his mind. Shit did he seriously just admit that.
Everything stopped, and your gaze softened for a split second. What. He likes me? He likes me. Fuck, why would you even say all that shit in the first place? You couldn’t even sustain a casual relationship how the fuck were you meant to maintain a real one? This is stupid.
“This is stupid.” you blurt out finally “I can’t handle a relationship right now Jake, hell I couldn’t even handle a casual one. No way we could ever be a real thing.”
“I thought you liked me.” Jake muttered
“So what if I do Jake? Look at us right now, I can’t even confess to you without running away from it. I’m not good for you Jake. I wouldn’t be able to make us work and-”
“Are you not even willing to try!?” Jake interrupted, tears slowly brimming in his eyes. Fuck, you couldn’t bear seeing him cry.
“Not if I’ll just hurt you in the process!” you shouted meeting his glossy eyes with your own “I’m sorry Jake.” And with that, you stormed past him out the room, out the door, down the stairs, and booked it back to your dorm.
Much like the first time you met, Jake Sim stood there watching you run out on him, again. Fuck.
Ice cream, americanos, and 2521.
This was how you would spend your days now that you and Jake were officially over. Well it’s not like you didn’t hangout with your other friends as well, you tried really, but even with them you couldn’t get rid of the sickeningly hollow feeling that brewed in the pit of your stomach. You felt much more content alone in your dorm room accompanied by Nam Joo Hyuk and Kim Tae Ri. Or maybe you were just trying to ignore the empty feeling in your chest for as long as you could before heading to sleep. Whether it be escapism or satisfaction, you’d become accustomed to your new little routine. That was until one fateful Saturday afternoon.
You begrudgingly got up from your comfortable position after hearing a couple of knocks on your dorm room door. Hair a mess and wearing a 2 week old set of pyjamas, you honestly couldn’t care less who was at your door. Expecting to see Kazuha you unlocked it without thinking too much, however you were only greeted with Park Jongseong staring straight at you.
“Oh Jay! Hey,” you exclaimed suddenly, becoming all too aware of your unkempt appearance. “What are you doing here? Were you looking for Kazuha or something because she just left for practice an-”
“Actually I’m here for you.” Jay cut in, “Could I come in?” his lips pressed together in a thin line and his hands were tucked away in his pockets.
“Oh, um” taken aback slightly by the question you stumbled over your words as he watched you expectantly “...yeah yeah sure, it’s sorta a mess though.” you admitted before moving aside to let him in.
“So, what’s up?” you exhaled before returning to your position leaning back on your headboard
“Have you um, talked to Jake at all recently?”
And there it was. Fuck you knew he would ask about Jake. “No, actually.”
“Ah yeah, I figured.” his eyes still awkwardly scanning the room “He’s been kinda out of it too, not really going to out with us anymo-”
“If you’re just here to tell me about how badly I hurt him, you can save it.”
“Wait wait no I wasn’t! Just, okay- hear me out” he reasoned before grabbing a chair to sit in front of you
“I know you guys had that whole argument before. And I don’t blame you, I probably would've been pissed too. But as I said, Jake is an absolute mess. And in no way am I here to make you feel bad for him, or anything! Just like- YN I’ll be straight with you. Jake has never liked a girl this much. Like, ever.”
Feeling your heartbeat flutter more ever so slightly, you glanced up to make eye contact with Jay. “Ah…”
“Yeah and, considering the fact I had to basically nurse him through his first breakup in highschool where he claimed his life was over. I think I’m a pretty reliable source right now. Point is, Jake was like head over heels over you. Still is. Despite being really tired from practice he would always try and run to the convenience store to stock up on your favourite foods. And even before you guys started this whole thing, the day you ran out of his dorm room, I swear that man was an inconsolable mess. Every moment not spent with you, he spent with us talking about how much fun he had with you.” he paused briefly to let you soak in all the things he had just admitted
“And I know I don’t know you as well as he does, nor am I close with you like, at all. But from the look in your eyes you had whenever you were with him, I think you liked him a lot too. And just saying, I don’t think Jake is totally opposed to the idea of you guys dating even after that whole incident at the party. He’s still willing to try…” he trailed off before getting up from his previously sat position, “He’s playing in tonight’s game so, think about it?” he concluded with a slight shrug
Quite honestly you were at a loss for words here, I mean you knew Jake liked you but you didn’t truly know the extent of it. You were obviously still scared about meeting Jake again but a small part of you had hope he was still as forgiving as Jay claimed.
“Thanks Jay, I’ll see.”
This was a bad idea.
You couldn’t believe Jay Park had convinced you to dress up all pretty just to sit through an insufferable game of soccer where you had no idea what was going on. Well, he didn’t really tell you to do all that, but you reasoned to yourself passing the blame would probably make you feel better about the fact that this was how you were spending your Saturday night.
Legs crossed over each other and eyes shooting across the field, you couldn’t really make out anything that was happening. Despite going to a university for sports you sadly had no interest in anything that involved throwing, kicking, or hitting balls around a large empty space.
You were internally debating whether any of this was worth it in the first place, the game was almost over there was so there was really no harm in leaving now anyways. That was until your eyes locked with an awfully familiar face. There he was, clad in a navy blue jersey, sweat making his skin glisten and a few strands of hair stick to his forehead, running across the field chasing after the ball. And just like that, you felt like you fell for Jake Sim all over again.
You could deny that even if you had no interest in the sport, Jake made it look infinitely exhilarating. Suddenly drawn in you found yourself at the edge of your seat the entirety of the last half of the game, cheering and clapping whenever Decelis scored a point. It was the final few minutes and Decelis and SM were neck and neck, both scoring a total of 10 points each.
The ball spiralled across the field before landing in front of Jake. Steps fueled with determination he dribbled the ball further and further across the court with speed and intensity you’ve never witnessed before. Fire blazing with every step he took, he skillfully planted his foot on the ball before striking it in the opposing team's goal post.
“And a score from Jake Sim! Ladies and gentlemen with only 20 seconds remaining of the game we may have our winners!” The commentator's voice echoed across the stadium, the crowd erupting into shouts and cheers.
After what seemed like an eternity, the referee finally blew the whistle to announce the end of the second half, crowning Decelis the official winners of this match. The team rushed towards Jake before engulfing him in hugs and showering him with compliments. Jake let out a wide grin in response, his smile beaming brightly across the field. You missed seeing that side of him.
Making your way down the stadium steps, you rushed over to the field in hopes to catch him before his team swept him away. Unfortunately, around 20 other people seemed to have the same idea as you. Being drowned out by the crowd gathered around Jake Sim you somewhat lost hope in any chances of you speaking to him tonight. It’s fine, right? You had plenty of other chances to talk to Jake. However, whether it be fate working in mysterious ways or the glint of your silver hair clip, Jake's eyes caught sight of someone tucked away behind the crowd.
Recognising you instantly, his heart began to palpitate ever so quickly and the confidence he adorned earlier vanished in an instant. Not wanting to ignore the other people surrounding him he mouthed a quick “Wait” before politely finishing up his conversation with the rest of his team.
Pushing slightly through the slowly diminishing crowd Jake made his way towards you and tried to ignore the way his hands instantly became clammy while his heart was beating out his chest. Mustering every bit of courage he had left of him he let out a strained “Hey YN.”
“Hi Jake,” you started awkwardly, “Could we um, talk for a bit?”
“Yeah sure but-” he reached to the nape of his neck beginning to look around, “maybe not here? We could go back to my apartment if you want, the guys are going to the afterparty and I’m not really interested.”
“Oh uh,” your heart jumped a bit at his sudden request but after calming yourself down you responded, “yeah, sure. That sounds good.”
The walk back to his place was admittedly one of your more awkward ones, silence filling the atmosphere as you two were both obviously too scared to start any conversation before reaching his apartment. Said silence remained as you made your way into his building, following him around while your eyes layed fixed to the floor.
Clearing his throat as he shut the door, he decided he should be the one to break the awkward tension between you two. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”
“Oh right. Um about the other night, I’m really sorry I just…” all the lines you had practised earlier in the shower now had completely slipped your mind, leaving you to run short of things to say, standing there after an uncomfortably long pause.
“YN it’s fine, I totally understand you not wanting anything between us anymore I get it really-”
“NO THAT’S NOT IT!” hands reaching up in front of your chest before you noticed how disastrously frantic you sounded, “What I was going to say was-” you started before letting out a deep breath. God you really had to get a hold of your nerves.
“What I wanted to say was, well what I’ve been planning to say- is that I was wrong. And I’m sorry for saying all that shit that night, I was scared shitless if I’m gonna be honest. Also admittedly, really buzzed. That obviously doesn’t really make up for it, but, yeah. Anyways– I’m getting side tracked.” you mumbled before shaking your head to snap yourself back into it.
“I told you before, but I have a very big problem with running away from anything that doesn’t have a solid 100% success rate. And relationships kinda are a big part of that? I think I’m seriously out of my mind for saying this, and hell all of this seems incredibly crazy to me. But I just…have to get it out. I’m willing to bet on, maybe not a 100% percent success rate for you Jake. I don’t care if it’s 10, 20, 30 or in the negatives. I’m willing to take that risk for you Jake.”
One beat passed, then two, then another. You stood there in agony waiting for Jake to respond with anything. A yes, a no, a laugh in your face, god you just wanted him to speak.
“Please say something” you winced.
“Sorry I’m just- I just- well I’ve never really had anyone ask me out before? So, I kinda am at a loss for words right now, you know?” Jake paused to look up at your hopelessly distraught image, “You are asking me out… right?”
“Yes…I think so and I’ve truthfully never done this either.” you replied sheepishly, eyes still stuck on the hardwood flooring.
“Well YN,” his hand reached for your chin to lift your head upwards so you were eye level with him, “I would love to go out with you.” he said with a gentle smile. The same smile that had you weak in the knees everytime.
“Oh thank fuck.” you sighed out in relief. Jake couldn’t help but giggle at the sight of all tension leaving your body. He moved his body closer to you to corner you against the kitchen countertop before moving in to whisper, “Can I do this now?”
“Do what?”
“This.” and with that he slowly closed the distance between you two to press his lips gently on top of yours before his hand reached over to cup the back of your head. It took a moment for you to register what he was fully doing, but as if he had full control over your body you melted into the kiss like butter. Lips moving feverishly against his, your hands reached over to grab his arm and pull him even closer towards you. There was barely breathing room between the two of you, your bodies moving perfectly in sync. Sighing into the kiss as his mouth parted against yours; you swore you weren’t religious but if this was what heaven felt like, you were willing to rethink your choices.
Slowly parting from him, his lips seemed to still chase after yours as if it was attached to your mouth with a string. You let out a small giggle, redirecting your gaze at his eyes. They were glistening with a warmth you’d seen countless times before, except this time you truly knew it was meant for you. You moved your arms over to loop around his neck whilst cocking your head to the side in amusement.
“Guess people can’t call you a loser now?”
“You know damn well I never was,” he chuckled out, tone still low and hushed, “C’mere” he exhaled before kissing you again with even more passion and intensity than before. You smiled into the kiss allowing him to manipulate your body like butter.
Who knew the physics nerd had it in him huh?
thoughts frm yuya 💭 hai everyone! omg this is finally out 😭 i think i grinded this fic out in like a week so i do apologize if it's bad 🙏 anyways i hope you guys enjoy it since it's my first really long fic ^^ i said this before but i'll prob go on a short hiatus since i've got my finals coming up, maybe coming back by the end of may or middle of june? nonetheless I will still try and be active on here, just no posting or new works, but i might try to queue some works up so TT hope you guys enjoyed the fic >< feedback and reblogs appreciated !
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﹆ WITH AND WITHOUT — LHS
⌕ where lee heeseung realises he messed up too bad
𖦹 pairing. toxic!bf! lee heeseung x f!reader w.c. 0.7k tw/cw. cursing, implications of cheating at end genre. angst/hurt sru's note. pls don't let this flop TT ( CATALOGUE?! )
¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated!
heeseung's head aches more than ever, and for every second that he stares at the minimalist silver pendant sitting still between your collarbones, it's thin silver chain hugging your neck ever so softly, it aches even more.
and now it's the time for his heart. he physically cringes out of guilt when he watches you retract your hand away from his. he just wants to hold your hand in his, wants to embrace the soft warmth that once felt like home, that cosy and cordial sensation that gave him butterflies.
but now that is long gone.
it started with heeseung really. from your shoulders missing the embrace of his arm to his cheeks missing your tickling, feathery kiss. neither of you know when this started; an invisible wall growing between you two, and all you can do is sit and watch, letting the wall increase the distance you've already built in between you both.
“you should focus on the movie instead”, your tone is boring, maybe even annoyed. or maybe none, heeseung simply doesn't know. he can't concentrate on whatever's playing in front of him, his eyes are fixed on your necklace, sending such visuals to his brain out of which he can only think of scenarios that hammers his heart even more.
the pendants’ a heart. it's a fucking heart.
“yeah, i am”, heeseung lies, again. just like the way he lied to you three months ago saying he would definitely attend your birthday party albeit his rough basketball practice.
you searched for your boyfriend's compelling face for hours that evening. waited for him the whole night, an hour passed by, then two, then three. every face in your apartment left and the one that should've been there by your side on the couch, holding you in his arms and kissing you all over, was not there. lee heeseung indeed broke his promise that day, along with a piece of you.
“really? what just happened right now then?”, you yawn, munching on the caramel popcorn, a flavour you didn't really like. but heeseung is unable to answer your question right now, he doesn't find enough words to formulate a sentence and explain why he didn't really know what was going on in the movie. his eyes just mindlessly read over the subtitles at the bottom of the screen not really getting the context behind it, there are more vital thoughts in the back of his head, eating him alive in this moment.
heeseung mentally curses himself for instances that took place months ago. instances which once broke your heart, you cried over it, burying your face in the pillow and then eventually forgetting about it. instances that heeseung never cared enough to think about twice before going to bed, or use to reflect on his actions or even think about it.
but suddenly heeseung wishes he could go back in time and return to your birthday party that evening, he wishes he was not that casual to flirt with your best friend in front of you, he wishes he hadn't caused those meaningless arguments with you, he wishes he'd never told you that his ex was better. heeseung wishes he was a better boyfriend for you.
“this one new?”, and heeseung's eyes are back on the necklace you were wearing, it's dainty silver heart infuriating him even more and he can't find the reason why. why the fuck can't he recognize the necklace?
“this one?”, you very well know which one he means when you point at the silver necklace on your neck, or else why will you be sitting with your cardigan pushed all the way down to your collarbones? “you gave it to me, don't you remember?”, you smile.
“not really”, heeseung trails off, a smile from you felt odd after days of cold shoulder from you. it doesn't feel genuine though, so he returns another fake smile hoping you wouldn't notice, “maybe i forgot.”
heeseung can never forget, never ever when it comes to you. he might have been the worst boyfriend ever but he's dying for your touch right now, maybe playing hard to get in your own relationship got him? he can't bet on being ‘good boyfriend’ all over again, he knows he fucked up. but he can bet on one thing though.
he swears and he swears to god and all his 23 years of life, he has never bought that necklace for you.
‘cause why the fuck would it have a ‘J’ engraved on it?
© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.
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Rather a big thing, by the way, that many of us are probably re-evaluating right now is Crowley consistently not wanting to be called kind or nice. Especially not by Aziraphale.
In S1, that was what triggered the wall slam. ‘Bit of an overreaction, if you ask me’—but in S2 we see more about how strong Crowley’s feelings are on the topic.
In the Job minisode, Crowley vehemently insists that he is a demon. He is so angry at God. When Aziraphale tells him that he is certain Crowley does not want to destroy Job’s children, Crowley takes his glasses off to expose full-demon irises and looks Aziraphale in the eye as requested and says, “I want to”.
Aziraphale is heartbroken over that. His shoulders slump, he exhales shakily, his faith in Crowley has indeed cracked. Look at him:
And then, of course, he figures out the trick, and it turns out that he is exactly right about Crowley. “Well,” he says, and looks vindicated, triumphant, amused.
He was right. He knew Crowley would resist atrocity with everything he has. He knew Crowley would understand it’s an atrocity in a way Gabriel and Michael did not seem to (and neither did those two care). What Aziraphale sees is that, for all of Crowley’s demonic posturing, Crowley came through.
(He remembers the angel that Crowley used to be. So joyful. So happy. So unlike Gabriel and Michael, too: the angel Crowley would never have gone along with killing Job’s children.)
At the end of this minisode, Aziraphale is ready to go to Hell. He thinks he must: he lied, he thwarted the will of God. Crowley, of course, tells him that he is simply an angel who goes along with Heaven as far as he can.
Aziraphale will process this in some way later, but… he won’t process it in the same way as Crowley. Aziraphale won’t reject the idea of Heavenly goodness—Heaven is supposed to be good, that’s the whole point—but he will take note of how, time and time again, Crowley exemplifies this idea when the actual Heavenly angels do not.
Across history, Aziraphale sees Crowley do things that are good. And then disclaim them, reject them, call them something else. A demon could get into a lot of trouble for doing the right thing, Crowley had warned him a long time ago.
Aziraphale will remember this.
Don’t say thank you, Crowley hisses in the Bastille. My lot do not send rude notes.
And the Victorian minisode?
Off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions, Crowley tells Aziraphale vehemently after saving Elspeth from suicide. (In Christianity, certainly in the 19th century, suicide condemns a soul; one who died by suicide does not even get a Christian burial. So Crowley has actively diverted a soul from Hell by drinking the laudanum.)
And—look at how indulgently Aziraphale is looking at Crowley as Crowley insists he is not responsible for his actions.
Of course you aren’t, my dear, he seems to think. We both know you did it on purpose, to have a plausible excuse for Hell. But of course we both know that you are in fact responsible for your actions, and that, at great personal risk and cost, you have once again chosen to do good.
So by the end, from Aziraphale’s point of view, Crowley has a much better idea of Good than Heaven itself. And—oh joy!—in the finale, Metatron, the voice of God, finally acknowledges that fact and validates it. Your demon recognized me when nobody else did, Metatron essentially says.
(I just cannot with the ominous dramatic music that plays as Metatron leads Aziraphale out of the shop. Get the FUCK OUT David Arnold, this is so pointed and disturbing. In this season and in the last, the music is narration, it tells us so much without a single word.)
Anyway! Yes! In the finale, Aziraphale is being manipulated, and part of why it works is that he still does not understand Crowley’s motives in insisting he is not nice or good. He has been interpreting Crowley’s insistence solely as protective, which makes a lot of sense from what he has seen. A demon doing good deeds must hide to avoid punishment and pain. Crowley has hid for six thousand years, has gotten used to hiding. Sure, the last four years were different, but even in these years the danger hasn’t gone away, and six thousand years is a long time to set a pattern.
Aziraphale wants to see Crowley happy. He wants to see him—both of them—safe. And here, finally, is an official Metatron-offered way. Heaven is finally admitting and working on its mistakes. Surely Crowley will forgive them? Surely Crowley and Aziraphale can make Heaven better, together? Make into what it should be? (And they would be safe, they would be safe, they would be safe.)
They still haven’t talked. Aziraphale still does not understand Crowley’s choices. In the past, it might have been too dangerous for Aziraphale to know exactly why Crowley Fell, while for Crowley, it might have been too vulnerable a thing to discuss. So they haven’t talked, and Aziraphale does not know the exact questions Crowley had asked, does not know the exact reasons. He assumes.
And his assumptions, oh so well-meant, are going to be catastrophic.
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𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ˚◞♡ ⃗ dad!satoru gojo
𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ when gojo comes home, he’s delighted to see his daughter applying makeup to his wife's face.
𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.9k words. you & gojo have a daughter (obviously). established relationship (married). the reader is referred as “mommy” by the kid but other than that there’s no use of fem terms.
𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚.┊i completelyy overdid it, this was supposed to be under six hundred words but oh well
late at night, with the moon casting a soft glow, gojo wearily steps into his home. all he wanted now was to unwind. his body was sore and he craved food, a hot shower, and then sleep. as fast as possible. which he was sure would be put on hold because of you and his daughter. two people he trusted were still awake — who always stayed up just to see him.
he laughs to himself, remembering the countless times he scolded you and your daughter for sacrificing your sleep. but in truth, he loved the surprises he came home to. whether it was you two baking together, with him joining in, or watching a movie where he'd have to catch up on the first 30 minutes, he cherished those moments spent with you and your daughter. it was a family thing.
he quietly slips off his shoes and places them on the wooden rack, the only sound in the house. "they must be sleep," he reasons. he couldn't help but frown. carefully tiptoeing to the kitchen, he heads straight to the fridge, first thing on the list of unwinding being food.
just as he's about to open the fridge, a symphony of giggles dances down from upstairs.
his brows furrowed, hand hesitating on the fridge handle, and glancing towards the stairway. after about thirty seconds of silence, he's convinced that he must've misheard it. but to his surprise, he hears it again.
a smile spreads across his face, knowing his girls were indeed awake and waiting for him.
his mind races as he weighs the options: dinner or investigate the source of the giggles? though deep down, he knows it's a pointless battle. especially when without a second thought, he finds himself practically skipping upstairs. anticipation intertwines with exhaustion, knowing that his loved ones awaits, ready to embrace him in their hold.
thankfully, the sound was so loud that it led him straight to the room where the laughter was coming from. as he approached his bedroom door, voices began to replace the laughter, growing louder and more distinct.
“hmm…what should we do now?”
“well, you’ve got a lot of options.”
his curiosity piqued, he tiptoed closer, skillfully avoiding the creaky floorboards he knew so well. with a gentle touch, he pushed the door open just enough to create a small crack, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the scene inside.
there, in the softly lit room, his daughter sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by an array of colorful makeup. the girl’s tiny fingers carefully picked up an eyeliner pencil, her brows furrowing in concentration.
"okay, eyeliner is next mommy!" she declared.
you chuckled softly, leaning closer to her. "alright, my little artist, show me what you've got.”
sitting face to face, eyes locked in a shared moment of love and trust, she delicately traced the pencil along your eyelids. her movements were a mix of focus and excitement, her small hands guided by an invisible artistic instinct. as the lines took shape, her face brightened more and more.
"you're doing great, my little artist," you whispered, voice filled with pride.
she just poked her tongue out from the corner of her lips.
even by only looking through the door, gojo’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride and tenderness watching the scene unfold. it was a simple moment, yet it held so much love. and he loved that.
just as he started to close the door, a sudden creak reverberated through the room. damn it. he stands frozen, desperately hoping that neither of you had noticed. but his hopes were dashed when his daughter's voice rang out, "daddy, is that you?"
his nerves tingled, and he hesitated for a moment, gathering his courage before finally responding, "yes, sweetheart, it's me."
he slowly pushes the door open, finally revealing his presence. your eyes lock, and a silent conversation unfolds, filled with unspoken words and understanding. it was as if he wanted to say he should've let you know he was here, but before he could speak, the girl infront of you interrupted.
"daddy, come join us!" she exclaimed.
he quickly took a seat beside you, watching as his daughter moved from you to him with the eyeliner in hand.
gojo playfully shook his head, teasing his kid, "no way, kiddo. eyeliner isn’t my style." though once she pouted, he couldn't resist her charm, and with a smile, he relented, "alright, just this once."
"maybe twice," she added, dragging the pencil gently along his eyelid.
“maybe twice.” in his head, he was more than happy to let her do it as many times as she wanted.
groaning, you stood up. “well, you two have fun."
gojo shut his eyes, "hey, how ‘bout a little photoshoot after this?" he suggests.
you place a kiss on his head, "yeah, no, tough pass." and with that, you retreated into the bathroom.
soon as gojo heard the bathroom light flicker on, he peaked open an eye, a playful grin on his face. "looks like it's just me and you now, kiddo.”
“close your eyes!” she huffed.
he obediently replied, "yes ma'am," as she closed his eyes for him.
it didn't matter to him if his eyeliner was smudged or if he hadn't done his nightly routine as planned. what mattered was him getting to add another midnight memory to his collection of family moments.
for the most part, he didn't really care if you three stayed up late if it meant he could add more. actually, scratch that — and put an emphasis on "the most part" because he is fucking exhausted.
#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ#i had to physically take a break from writing this bc the amount of fluff is unbearable#wrote this instead of sleeping#gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo angst#gojo x you#gojo headcanons#gojo scenarios#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujustu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen headcanons
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Goodbye to Hello | jjk
Pairing: badboy!jeongguk x female!reader
Word Count: 25,102
Genre: fluff, lots of smut oops, mega-angst, strangers to lovers!au, fuckboy/fuckgirl!au
Warning(s): profanity, infidelity, mega-angst (im sorry), mention of alcohol, smoking, smut, unprotected sex, oral (m + f receiving), slight m!dom, nipple play, hand job, dirty talk, ice play, ass grabbing, mention of a sex toy, squirting, hobi is a bad boy in this too, multiple orgasms, smutty kissing, reader may or may not have accidentally become a fuckgirl in this story sorry not sorry; Rated: 18+
Credit to: @yoonoclock for making such an incredible cover for this story that has taken me two long years to write. It’s finally where I need it to be and thank you so much Monnie for using your talent to create a banner that truly embodies the story.
Taglist: thank you so much for your patience with me! @ggukkieland @thisartemisnevermisses @moonchild1 @familiarlikemymirror3 @gukniverse
Summary: After a devastating break up, you immediately move in with your sister, leaving behind the country life to relearn the ups and downs of the city. Adopting a cat and gaining a new job at a retail store part time, life seems to gradually bring happiness and healing, but you did not expect for it to become even more interesting when you stumble upon the enticing yet alluring tattoo artist, Jeon Jeongguk. Will this be an adventure of a lifetime? Or will hello always lead to goodbye?
Golden specks twinkle sporadically like fairy dust creating a shimmering tint to the air that collects the attention of any individual trailing the pavement. Pollen. The groovy excitement of a stuffy nose and mildly itchy eyes sounds stellar compared to how you could be feeling. Sniffling roughly, you squeeze your eyes shut momentarily to relieve what little of the itch that you can and trotting up the steps to your realm of refuge, you can hardly stand the excitement of bundling into the arms of your boyfriend, Jung Hoseok, and relaying how lovely it is to wipe your nose every five minutes. Maybe even ask if you can borrow the sleeve of his sweatshirt as a tissue. Pause. Maybe not.
Entering the rental home, you hadn’t noticed how eerily quiet it seemed, not right away; especially when you are so used to hearing the raging shots of a video game mingled with the yelling profanity between Hoseok and his best friend Kim Namjoon who bicker over headsets about wins that neither of them were really close to. But, let the males believe, they indeed, almost triumphed. Settling your handbag onto the dining table, you tilt your head in confusion. Is Hobi sick today? Where is he?
The floors creak beneath your tennis shoes while you observe the kitchen. That’s funny. The dishes are cleaned and put away, and not one stray of lint is seen upon the countertop- Hoseok has always been clean as well as you, but he never went over the top unless he had company over, and by company you mean his mother. Thoughts drift to the possibility of him wanting to surprise you for whatever the case may be, and your heart flutters at the mere inkling while a smirk graces your lips. How thoughtful, you feel gushy at his consideration of you, and your steps follow the direction of your bedroom.
It is then that your life spirals in a cluster of emotions that you will never forget; sparks dancing in your vision while your chest tightens intensely in response to the sounds you hear echoing beyond the door. No. You want to scream, but your throat constricts, not producing any verbalization no matter how much your brain signals. This can’t be real. Please don’t let this be real. The moans persist. The mystery female is eagerly gasping his name over and over while your heart shudders at the pain severing every vein within your frame. A tear falls panging the floor- your body is so tense, you shiver through the anxiety, and you know deep down that confronting him will hurt even worse than if you were to take the high road and walk away.
Wiping the dampness from your eyes, you spin to compile your things as in your handbag that contains your wallet, car key, and cellphone, and you march outside, slamming the front door behind you to shed some of the anger boiling in your system; you could care less if he heard your grand exit or not for you blocked his number before you settled into your car. You may be able to run from him, but you cannot run from the excruciating pain erupting beneath your chest nor the cycle of questions that refuse to stop spinning because why? After three years together, why would he betray you like this?
The front door flings open. Hoseok runs onto the porch in pure panic, hair disheveled, only in boxers, mouth gaping open as his widened eyes search until they lock with yours. But it’s too late. You are already safe within your car. Even when you notice the slim figure of a woman in one of his t-shirts, you do not move your gaze. You let the stare down with your boyfriend linger enough to rest your case. The second he starts rushing down the porch steps in a way to catch up to you for whatever meaningless apologies- meaningless explanations that will pour from his mouth- is when you reverse onto the road.
Behind the steering wheel with no destination in mind, you come up with the only solution you find reasonable, and you make your way to the city with the intention of starting over, even if it means it destroys you.
-
A queue of ants scurry along the lining of the windowsill where the sun tinges the glass against your knuckles. Shrivel sounds of the granola bar wrapper fills the silence of the kitchen while you gulp the final bite of your snack. Sometimes when your hands feel cold, you leave it to the sun to indulge your skin with warmth before trekking to your room, but instead, the growling of your stomach and the distraction of observing the insects seems to help with the boredom. Dread happens to consume the depths of your chest at the subtle reminder of returning to work in the morning; Sundays always bring the feeling of woe because it is the end of relaxation before continuing the week of being overwhelmed. But you figure adulting is worth it in some ways, and as everyone else, you must work to provide and live.
The chirp of your cat, Kenai, alerts your attention, him pouncing onto the counter to rub his head along your free wrist. “If you’re hungry, just say so,” you coo sarcastically, knowing he is due for his dinner in a few minutes. He will be a year old soon, his yellow eyes squinting as he rubs his head against your palm before arching his back once you run your hand to the end of his tail. Your eyes flit back to the ants darting in search of whatever they need, and inwardly, you are uncertain how your sister, Monnie would feel about the bugs, but you always found them fascinating.
Jumping off the counter, Kenai excitingly follows suit, twirling against your legs as you saunter to the pantry to retrieve his food. You have officially lived with your sister for a year now, and adopting Kenai was one of the best decisions you have ever made besides moving to the city. It is as if you disappeared from the prior life that you once lived and you like it just that way. Kenai temporarily ditches you for his food, and you stroll off to the living room where the scenery of a huge, flat screen television shows your reflection on the empty screen.
Monnie happens to be a successful artist who fell in love with another known artist by the name of Min Yoongi. Together they have won the world with their talent, and you could not have asked for a better couple to be in your life. If there is a true definition of love, it is how Yoongi gazes at your sister- because she is the only woman in the world, he will do anything and everything for. Jokingly, you always tell the pair that you are just going to stick with your cat, but the sadness that etches within Monnie’s eyes reveals that she hopes you will find a good man of your own. She is aware of why you abruptly returned to the place you were birthed, and she is aware that you refuse to speak of it even if it is pent up to the brim of imploding.
When you met your ex, it was in a park of all places. Not high school, not college, not through a family member or a friend: a park. It was a romantic way to begin even though you will never admit it now, but it started so naturally. So simple. You were reading a book while he was creating one. The way you were poised apparently sparked an idea for a story he openly confessed later on in the courtship. He described the scenery around you and how enwrapped in the book you were as something meant to be written for others to discover. How he could imagine a story just from the vision you had no idea you were forming for him.
You fell for him fast. Hard. He was your first everything aside from kissing and as time went by, you agreed to move in with him. You never expected what was going to happen in the future. You never anticipated such excruciating pain from the betrayal, nor did you notice any signs leading up to it. He’s tried contacting you from other phone numbers, but after four months apart, he seemed to have given up. But, because the pain is still so raw, you can’t bear to face him. You will crumple like a piece of paper in his presence if you were to ever see him again. For now, you do all you can to just avoid the situation as much as possible. Besides, he has her now. Whoever she may be.
Alas, what does it matter? It is not like he is able to reach out to you anyways for he is blocked on every and any social media site you can think of, and thankfully your name was not on the lease nor was your name hooked to anything involving your ex, so it will be fine. Or so you tell yourself repeatedly until you lose track of the thought. But that uneasy feeling creeps back up and instead of reaching for the remote, you decide maybe a walk around the city will be better. Monnie isn’t due home until later and you are assuming Yoongi will be tagging along, so why not pass the time by exploring?
Loneliness seeps in the gallows of your heart while you rush through the app for a driver. There is not a specific destination you prefer over another, so you pick a store at random around fifteen minutes away. With the money your sister has, she doesn’t expect you to pay for anything, all she cares about is your happiness though you refuse to not work; for now, you have a part time retail job whilst figuring out a career path that will become your future in the long term.
One thing you will say, is you have not missed driving in the city, hence the reasoning of you summoning a chauffeur. Traffic isn’t your favorite as commonly pronounced by anybody, and with how overwhelming your brain can feel, you prefer to be able to drift into the zone out rather than pay attention. Gripping the strap of your bag, you eagerly watch the road while cars pass by letting the heat of the breeze sweep through your hair. When the signal of your phone alerts you that your driver is close by, you aim your focus in the direction of a slowing vehicle, stunned by the countenance of a sharp jawline and rainbow colors dyed into bleach blonde strands.
The beauty you are about to behold is way out of your comfort zone, nor have you felt this attracted to an individual since your heart was obliterated a year ago. “Hi-hi,” you stutter once you enter the passenger side, the driver nods once with a smirk in tow, his button up snug to his frame, an earring dangling from his right ear.
“I’m Jimin,” he introduces, “Location still the bookstore in the city?”
“Yes please,” you are shocked you sound audible, but you return a timid smile while shoving some loose hair behind your reddening ear. The clean scent of lemon breaches past your nostrils while you try to maintain your composure, “I’m y/n, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise,” soft music plays in the background, yet the only sense you tune into is the pounding in your temples. Pull yourself together, he is just a guy who drives a car, who will safely take you to the bookstore, no biggie, you will survive, there are more important things to- “So, as a fellow book lover, I must ask, what is your favorite story?”
Oof. Conversation to minimize the awkward way your shoulders tense at the mere thought of looking over at him, you rummage through the possible answers, struggling to gather your words in a timely manner. “Very hard question,” you gulp, “It’s like asking to choose your favorite song or movie. Too many stories to explore,”
“And never a time you will run out of adventure,”
Eyebrows shoot up in response, “Right,” you smile, “Sounds like you love a good adventure,”
“I will neither confirm nor deny,” a soft chuckle escapes past his plump lips while he keeps his gaze ahead on the traffic. “Have you resided here long?” Shifting nervously in your seat, you watch the buildings of the city closely in a way to avoid Jimin’s gaze without obviously melting.
“Only a year, made a split decision to move in with my sister. You?”
Jimin flits his stare for only a moment, “For a long while. My best friend and I are opening a bar not far from the bookstore, you should come sometime. Invite anyone and everyone you want.”
“I love me a good drink,” bravery enters your frame while you briefly scan the smooth skin of Jimin’s face. “Sounds like a plan.”
“Taehyung has a lot of success in his business, and this will be his fourth opening so celebration is a must. He has a lot of sponsors and connections, the main being Kim Seokjin,”
Gasping, you immediately turn to him, “You mean the actor Kim Seokjin? You’re kidding!”
Laughing, Jimin’s smile stretches to show pearly white teeth, “I will allow you to punch me if I am,”
Deep down you try to suppress the memory of your ex-boyfriend who had written a script in preparation to be read for a potential movie, one that would, in hopes, hire Kim Seokjin as the lead. Hoseok is talented in the writing department and had dreams of becoming a successful author, but you gladly dismiss the memory when Jimin pulls to park for you to exit.
“Here,” swiftly he pulls out a business card handing it to you with a friendly grin, “The opening is in a few weeks, will I see you there?”
“One hundred percent,” clutching the card in your hand, you wave before shutting the door, turning to face the bookstore to hide the fact you would prefer to stare at Jimin whose face will haunt you for the time being. For fucks sake, I need to get laid. As you desperately insert the card into your wallet, you pause. Nay! Male specimens suck, they all suck, my mother said the purpose of a male is to produce a child that I clearly am not ready to birth from the womb that is my pretty pink uterus. That bleeds. Monthly. Because I am not housing a fetus I- Ew. Maybe you’d rather be an aunt. Or have an ovariohysterectomy. Maybe your uterus would like to be taken out of the equation in general.
And now I need a coffee…. Shit.
Since when have you been this intimidated by a good-looking man? And when have you found any of your sporadic conscious entertaining? Therefore, you passionately believe in keeping your mouth shut when you’re on a tangent because humiliation is not in your vocabulary. Or… Is it? Also, you hate admitting how long it has been since you have even been kissed, much less caressed lovingly until you fell asleep. Is moving on from heartbreak too much to ask for? The heat of Hoseok’s kisses trailing your neck were enough to make you come undone, but his betrayal outweighs the good times- good times that evidently weren’t enough for him. Huffing in congruent with the squeezing of your shutting eyes, you step along the semi-crowded sidewalk where people mind their business enough to leave you alone. Your hand must have pressed against your stomach for a bit because you can still feel the presence of the touch before you subconsciously removed your palm.
The bookstore is a popular joint in your opinion. It stands four stories high with the fourth floor having a garden center where people can read and smell the perfumes of flowers in peace. Unfortunately, you are not in the best mood for getting lost in the lines of a tale considering you were too busy thinking about your erm, lady possessions, so you tread what you hope will be enough distraction until you feel satisfied enough to go home. It’s funny the curveballs life will throw at you especially when twists and turns decide to expose themselves in the unexpected ways everyone wishes will not happen unless it gleams nothing but happiness. Sadly, for some, the hits of negativity must spark lessons before one reaches the promise land, so when you make a turn into the alley way leading to a popular coffee shop, you do not anticipate the way your life is going to change. Nor do you fathom the string of events that are about to follow when you stumble upon a leathered frame, sucking in a puff of a cigarette while he flicks at his eyebrow shimmering with a piercing, leaning against the wall where he swallows roughly. Undercut freshly done, his nostrils release the smoke in what seems to be slow motion while you halt in place.
Holy shit.
Tattoos ornament the entirety of his knuckles and wrist alluding to the beginning of a sleeve that’s covered by the thick material of his jacket. For all you know, he may not be one to approach, yet the tug of your heart is so strong, you try with all your might to make the executive decision to return to the bookstore, but alas, it is too late. Brown irises glance to your frozen figure right when he takes another drag of the cigarette, lifting an eyebrow in evident interest while your jaw drops unintentionally. “I’m-I’m sorry,” you bow in tiny, “I didn’t see you there.” Cringing, you know damn well that you saw him, and he sees right through your little white lie.
“You’re fine,” he replies, studying your expression, tossing the cigarette to the ground to muffle it, “Not the best place for me to smoke, but it’s the least populated area,”
At a loss for words, you nod in response, the guy barely pushing off the wall to stand straighter, the smell of the cigarette lingering. “Well, I guess I’ll be going.” You say under your breath, walking with a mission toward the coffee shop to catch your breath. How in the world can somebody be that attractive? First Jimin, now this guy? Why hadn’t you moved to the city earlier? Uterus, it is not time to ovulate! It is not the time! The ding of the bell alerts your arrival to the staff, and you contemplate your order deciding to try a new flavor of coffee. Surprisingly, it is not nearly as busy as it typically is, so once you retrieve your order and pay, you search for a secluded table to descend into for some form of solitude. And, to recover from the interaction with the guy from the alley. You have never smoked a day in your life, but he made it seem so tempting, which in your case is nowhere near normal, so you shake the strange attraction from your mind as best as you can.
Sipping the hot liquid frequently, your sister has always teased that you delight in drinking coffee in the evenings, but it is your comfort go to especially when you need something to do, or to feel relaxed. The bell of the door echoes prompting the immediate noticing of whoever the customer is that entered. Swallowing abruptly, your heart leaps at the sight of the guy you literally saw fifteen minutes ago in the alley. A creeping blush spreads along your chest soon touching your cheeks to the point you wish you could hide. In a way, you attempt, sinking a smidge in your seat wondering if that will prevent him from noticing your presence.
Nice try.
Between the minimal number of customers and the efficiency of the employees, a tattooed hand linked to a coffee cup slides into the seat across from you, tilting his head curiously when you toss your sight to bask in the glory of his profound attraction. You are in so much trouble. “Hi, again,” you murmur, crossing your arms over your chest to hide the quivering of your cold fingers, and to tame the flipping of your ovaries. “Did I scare you enough to make you confront me?”
Smirking a breathy laugh, he takes a swig of his coffee, “I’m not scared of anything.”
“If not fear, what brings you to my table?”
Wetting his bottom lip, you are proud of your feigned courage, but you genuinely are shocked by his sudden presence. Did you leave an inadvertent impression? Quirking an eyebrow, a small smile remains on his lips, “A confession.”
“If it’s sweet talk, I’ll pass.”
Leaning forward to perch his elbows on the table, he folds his hands showing the tattoos you inwardly reveled in earlier, his head poises to the side while he presses his knuckles to his chin casually. “Bold of you to assume I was here to compliment you.”
“Ouch.” You deadpan. “But then again, my mother’s compliments are all that matter to me. Anything you say is irrelevant.”
“Oh,” gradually laying his intertwined fingers onto the table, he challenges with a stare that can make any human being melt into the wooden floor. Fuck. “Then I guess telling you that your shirt is inside out isn’t going to change anything.”
Gasping, your palms fly to your chest where you instantaneously look to see the lines of your t-shirt that clearly expose the fact that you indeed left the house with your shirt on wrong. It is not as embarrassing as one may think, but you were unaware of the food stain dazzling along the side of your boob. Which in this case, makes you blush harder knowing that his eyes may be lingering in an area where no man is welcome currently. But why do you lowkey indulge in the idea of him taking a moment to sweep you up and down? Get a fucking grip, y/n.
“Well,” you sporadically move to position yourself in the seat where the point out will no longer be as obvious, “I appreciate how observant you are, but at least it’s not the worst thing to discover. In public.”
Chuckling under his breath, he shrugs, “I agree. Just figured I’d inform you, otherwise, my intentions are pure.”
Scoffing, you cross your arms again, remaining comfortable in your chair, “That’s not suspicious at all.”
“If I wanted anything, I would have asked already.” He murmurs, “And I always get what I want.”
“Fearless and greedy,” you are vastly grateful that the uterus doesn’t make noises when it’s craving to house an infant, especially with a man as ballsy and gorgeous as the one before you. And why the hell are you even thinking of children at a time like this? Any other male specimen would have made this conversation creepy, but this guy is so alluring that it doesn’t seem to bother you in the least. “What’s your name, Cigs?”
He chokes mid-sip, “That’s a new one.”
“What’s the norm?”
“Do you really wanna know?”
“Not if it’s sexual.”
“Oooo, then I’ll never tell.”
“Pure, my ass.”
“I never said I was pure, milady, I said my intentions with you were pure.”
Eyeing him questionably, you stifle a jeer, “Not sure if that’s an insult, but I’ll take it.”
Smiling enough to where a glimpse of his teeth is seen, he reaches a hand forward, “I’m Jeongguk.”
“I’m y/n.” Kindly, you take his hand returning the greeting with a grin.
“And I find you extremely striking. I mean that with all sincerity.” Gently, he presses a warm kiss to the back of your knuckles before releasing your clammy hand. “Now go fix your shirt before my OCD destroys me.”
Groaning, your mind wants to focus on the sensation from his lips on your skin, but instead, in mild humiliation, you shake your head kiddingly while you mosey to the restroom. Remembering to bring your purse, you hadn’t realized you left your phone behind on the table next to your drink. Returning, you’re shocked to see that he’s left; your phone and coffee appear untouched, yet you feel the sting of disappointment for you enjoyed the bickering even though some may find it strange. It has been a while since you have been in proximity with a man of such nature, especially one whose features leave an imprint on every crevice of your brain.
The ride home holds nothing but thoughts of the lad who mysteriously approached you at your favorite coffee spot, mostly questions of wonderment of who he is. Jeongguk, sure, but what is his story? Shoving the thought past your mind, you enter your room once you arrive home and feed your cat, slipping into your pajamas and collapsing onto your bed releasing a long sigh. Slamming your palms to your face, the keen chirp of Kenai sounds as he pounces onto the bed, rubbing his head against your cheek until you split your fingers to peer at your cat lovingly. “You have already eaten, you brute. Let me simmer in sadness please.”
Eventually you give in, petting him before you find your eyelids heavily craving slumber. It is the next day when you awaken to sunshine pouring through the blinds casting dancing shadows upon your bedspread. Kenai’s fur tickles your cheek where he has cuddled cozily to you, which is the usual with your cat, and gazing fondly at your furry friend, you blindly pat your desk to grasp your phone to sneak a Snapchat. “Don’t you move, KiKi.” Angling the phone, you take a photo, posting to your story to show off how precious your animal is. You were so lucky when you found your cat. After the devastating blow to the chest a year prior, the first thing you did was visit a shelter not far from Monnie’s house in search of the first animal to win your heart.
In all honesty, they all did, but one look at the small fluff puff, pressing his paws against the glass, meowing for you to notice him was all it took. He purred the moment your hands wrapped around his small body, his cold nose sniffing along your face that was stained with tears. He was the little superhero besides your sister that you needed to find some form of healing. Kenai hasn’t left your side, and he refuses to. You never knew a cat could love you so much, even on the nights you wake up with him sprawled across your trachea. His love may be smothering, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Kissing the side of his head, his sleepy eyes remain out the window where birds zip past to distract him. Throwing the covers off you, the number one thing you do is brush your teeth, changing into your work clothes, and tying your hair up out of your vision. Kenai eventually follows you with all the hopes of getting his breakfast which you prepare, and before shuffling into your tennis shoes, you check your phone where your eyes enlarge to the rising beat of your heart.
Jeongguk is typing….
“What the hell?” You mouth. The guy from yesterday added you on Snapchat? How? The only thing you can think is your phone happened to be unlocked unless he was able to open the picture app to scan his Snapchat code. Either way, you are not wanting to admit how pleasantly surprised you are, and when the familiar tone of the Snapchat alerts his official message, you hold yourself back from replying to him too quickly.
It's an exuberantly strange feeling, how giddy one can become all because of a mere message of someone where their interest lies. And the nervous tingles at the bottom of your stomach ignite as you ponder every and any scenario involving the mysterious lad. You have yet to reply, nor do you have any clue what to expect, but you deeply hold nothing but genuine curiosity of how this may play out. Will he be interested in you? Are you ready for someone to be interested in you? That may be the more accurate question. Hoseok hurt you beyond words, but will Jeongguk do the same if you do end up finding him enchanting? What if he doesn’t think you are enough? With all the women in the world, it seems that you can’t hold a guy down enough to seem worth it. Stop it. Wincing, you grit your teeth knowing the negativity needs to end now. Of course, you are enough. You have always been enough, and nobody should make you doubt otherwise. “Anyone who doesn’t see the good in you is at a loss. You are literally the epitome of kindness,” Monnie’s words repeat in your head, uplifting you enough to focus your mind on other matters. Like, preparing your brain cells for the workday ahead.
Finicking with your uniformed red vest, you greet a fellow coworker with a smile, “Good morning, LenLen! Is it five o’clock yet?”
Giggling, LenLen’s face lights up at your question as she finishes folding a pair of jeans to set upon a display. “It is somewhere.”
“Good point,” walking the isles of the store to tidy up the shelves, you can’t help but wonder if it has been long enough since Jeongguk messaged you. Giving it another ten minutes to ensure the coast is clear of customers, you sneak into the breakroom, unlocking your phone to see what he said. You are appalled at yourself for being so consumed in the fact that a guy you just met has taken time out of his day to reach out to you and you wish you could maintain your cool.
‘Dude, your cat looks just like my hellion, Flounder.’
Smiling at what you have read, you click to save the message, so you don’t forget what is being talked about once you exit the snapchat, and you are nearly losing your mind when Jeongguk’s Bitmoji appears a few seconds after you start typing. Uncertain of what else to say, you respond with, ‘Prove it.’ GAH! You grimace, that’s what you have to say? Prove it? Beating yourself up, you forget to breathe the moment the red icon shows that Jeongguk has sent a picture of what you are assuming is his cat. Opening it with the click of your thumb, you are amazed how identical Flounder and Kenai are even considering they could be potential siblings, what a small world right? ‘First off, LOVE the name’, you reply, also realizing you are blushing because also within the picture, a side profile of Jeongguk shows that he is smiling.
Knowing you will have to return to the floor soon, you decide to let Jeongguk send at least one more message before you have to be a responsible adult. ‘Right? It was either Sushi, Tuna, or Sardine, but I thought Flounder would be more fitting and unique. Tetra is my other cat and she’s the worst about stealing my food.’
‘Sounds like Kenai can finally make some friends! And attempt to steal a morsel alongside.’
Typing out the message, you hesitate to send, but with the shared love of felines you honestly feel as though Jeongguk will not overanalyze your reply. Anxious for lunch break, you handle the hours with ease, conversing with LenLen from time to time to figure out who has done what on the chores list. LenLen speaks of a guy that she met recently, with a square jawline and hair as curly as a bowl of ramen noodles, yet his bright smile is what drew her to him. You talk of how happy you are for her and hope for the best, chickening out to tell her about Jeongguk, especially with it being, in your opinion, extremely too soon to mention.
Retrieving your food, you hide away in the breakroom where your eyes immediately glue to your cellular device anticipating whatever Jeongguk has said. ‘Hell yeah, my babies would love that, they do very well with other animals, surprisingly. Hey, sorry I left so soon yesterday, something came up.’
‘It takes a bit for Kenai to warm up, but he will adapt just fine. All he cares about is his stomach being full. No need to apologize, I totally get it.’ Eyebrows furrowed; you can’t help the wonder of what made him leave so soon. Also, you are not one to press further, if he wants to explain himself then he will. Otherwise, you hope that everything is okay with him.
It has only been a few days when you enter the coffee shop again, making it obvious that it indeed is your favorite, and you are shocked the employees don’t know you by name yet. Or so you assume. It is when you see Jeongguk taking a sip of his drink searching for an empty table, your heart leaps as if on cue. You are starting to assume that maybe he is a recent frequenter of this same coffee shop too. Why else have you seen him twice in the span of a few days? You’ve never noticed him here before this week, so now you wonder if he recently moved to the city. His leather jacket hugs his frame as his hair is styled to his liking. You hardly notice the way your mouth waters instinctively and you snap back into focus when you are next in line.
Pretending you didn’t notice Jeongguk, you decide to find a seat a short distance away just in case by some chance he acknowledges you. With coffee in hand, you pick a spot and not even sixty seconds later, you hear the familiar click notification of someone typing on Snapchat. Jittery, which you wish wasn’t so obvious, you carefully reach for your phone seeing: Jeongguk is typing… lighting the screen. Without thinking, you immediately lift your gaze to see him staring at you, a mischievous smirk gracing his pink lips.
Just for his delight, you play along spinning some storybook thought that you two are forbidden lovers hiding from the community by texting instead of speaking to one another in person. Get a grip, y/n, you scold yourself mentally. Opening the message, it reads: may I join you in coffee matrimony?
Shaking your head along with a breathy laugh to his cheesy statement, you respond with a pun, only if you keep me brewing, Tatts!
The creak of his chair echoes as he slides it back. Shyly, you hold his stare, watching him and his thick boots walk to settle into the chair across from you. “Clever,” he muses, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. Strands of his hair fall at the outer corners of his eyes, and you breathe in the faint scent of his cologne. This time, you do not get a whiff of any cigarettes, so you question if he’s even had one today. “If you’re not careful,” he deliberates, “I might have to show you what it’s like to get creamed.”
“Hm.” Arching an eyebrow, you catch on to his game, and if he wasn’t so damn alluring, you wouldn’t even give this conversation another thought with anybody else, “You better hope it tastes as sweet as sugar.” He doesn’t expect you to say that. He may have had women fall hopelessly at his feet, and as much as you feel you might be the next one, you definitely aren’t going to show it. Not right now.
“I hear that the ladies like it steamy.”
“Or iced,” you shrug nonchalantly. Ice play has always been a curiosity of yours, but he doesn’t have to know that. When he doesn’t seem to come up with another pun, you chew the corner of your lip before you lean onto the table yourself, inching as close as you can that the table between you two will allow. “Tell me, Boots, how is it… that a guy with this tough exterior can be so delicately precious about his cats?”
He gestures with his hands. “What can I say? I have to set a good example.”
You harrumph humorously. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
He feigns surprise. “You think I am incapable of being a good role model to my children?”
“Oh please. All you have to do is keep their food bowls filled to the brim and you’ve already won dad of the year.”
Jeongguk winks, bringing his hands together to interlace his fingers reminding you of the tattoos you wish you can visualize more. “Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he smirks.
You have a hard time breaking his gaze, but you clear your throat when it lingers a bit too long. “Anyways,” you attempt to change the subject, “I hope all is well.” You’re really hinting about why he left so suddenly the last time but knowing men do not always pick up on hints, you know you will accept whether he gets what you mean or not.
“Seeing that you put your clothes on right today, my OCD hasn’t been triggered.”
“Happy to see I’ve made a difference in your life.” You playfully sneer.
“It’s the little things that count.”
You feel your uterus squeeze. How the fuck is he so damn attractive for? “I’ll keep that in mind every time I dress.” You say it too quickly without thinking, your cheeks glimmering blood red. He quirks an eyebrow tauntingly.
“I can always help.”
“Nice try, Cigs.”
Except… You want him to try. That itching desire travels through your chest, and you wonder maybe… just maybe, you can get his help. Not necessarily with getting dressed because you swear you are competent to do so, but… maybe he can cure the curse of loneliness, even if it’s just for the moment. You want to deny that you hope it will be much more than just this moment. You can’t explain any of this. Are you trying to impress him?
Uncrossing your ankles underneath the table, you do slide your feet forward taking the tip of your boot to tickle up his leg and you can’t help the smirk that graces your lips when he sucks in a hiss. There’s a tad bit of space on the chair where you place your boot, gracefully taking your other foot to nestle on the other side of his hips. You don’t know what is taking over you, but it’s divine, and now you can’t stop yourself especially with his eyes tempting for you to continue. “I’m gonna need help with more than-”
“How’s it going?”
You jolt, boots slamming to the ground when your wide eyes shoot to see a smiling employee who clearly is going from table to table to check on customers. Stammering, you lick your lips while Jeongguk tries not to laugh in response to your sudden shock. “Goo-good!” You plaster a wide smile while the employee bows swiftly to then waltz to the next table as if they didn’t intrude on your façade to win over this incredibly attractive man across from you. Fuck, you grimace. How embarrassing.
When coffees are finished and downed in clumsy silence, you reach for a stick of gum, offering Jeongguk a piece so you don’t feel so insecure about the coffee breath. He offers to walk you home, but you tell him the bookstore is where you plan to be next. You’re not ready to go home because home is where you will replay the humiliation of what just happened repeatedly. You need a distraction.
Side by side, the pair of you set off down the alley, your nerves still shooting through your limbs while anxiety of what to talk about tackles your brain cells. You’re really trying to forget already, but it’s too fresh to just repress. Maybe there is a sliver of comfort with the silence, but of course, you overthink that as well because when do you not overthink?
You know what? You saw the pleasure in his eyes, there wasn’t a smidge of doubt in his expression when his body responded to you in the coffee shop. Noting that the alley is empty, you take the opportunity. If he wasn’t the slightest bit into you, he wouldn’t be adamant on making sure you arrive to your next location safely. But you need to think fast before you exit the alley. “Cigs!” You blurt. He stops the second you do. The gravel beneath his boots being the last sound you hear before adrenaline takes over.
Your hands grip the front of his leather jacket and when he clues in, as if rehearsed, his large hands grasp your hips, walking you backwards until your back gently bumps against the brick building. His gaze is intense as if preparing you what you are asking for while your mouth parts in yearning for whatever he is about to do. He over towers you, and your eyes never move even when his palms slide to your waist, his shaky exhales leaving his nostrils. His lips are pressed together. When you think he’s about to kiss you, he slams his eyes shut, shifting nothing but his forehead to lean to yours as your eyes flutter closed. Waiting.
Tingles resonate across your skin and the longing is immensely strong, you don’t want to hold back. You hadn’t realized that the back of your hands are against the brick wall as if you have surrendered to him. In a way, you have. The seconds feel like minutes, and when you think he will finally connect with your body, he pulls away. His hands ghost your waist.
For some reason, you keep your eyes closed. His lips then brush warmly to your forehead and with that, you hear the crunch of his footsteps disappearing as he did the first time you met. Your eyes peel open, and it’s like Jeongguk is a figment of your imagination because now:
he’s gone.
-
You never expected to hear from him again, but as days pass, it’s crazy how one person can enrapture the entirety of your thoughts even with the distractions from work because Jeongguk has mastered it for you. And that is how it has been the rest of the week, giddily waiting on his every text and enjoying every bit of the conversations shared between you two as if the sexual tension in the alley never happened. Eagerly, you toss and turn at night due to the cycle of daydreams rehearsing in your mind rent free, but you can’t help yourself, you love to imagine the possibilities of a real adventure with someone you want to spend time with again. If it ever happens.
“You’re glowing.” Monnie’s eyes squint as you grin away to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator for an electrolyte drink.
“I… cleansed my face?”
“No, it’s not that.”
Teasingly scoffing, you take a swig of your drink, “I... am… expecting?”
“Nice try,”
You nearly choke on the second sip, “C’mon, it’s not that impossible. You don’t know my schedule.”
“I know it enough to know that you haven’t missed a birth control shot since you became physically intimate, and that was practically decades ago.”
“You can just say sex you know,” you retaliate, “And for your information, I had sex last year.”
“Yeah, practically decades ago.”
“Fine. Ten or so excruciatingly long years ago, I had sex.”
“So, in conclusion, you are not with child.”
“Yet,” you ploy, letting Monnie glare at you as she slowly steps out of the kitchen. Who are you kidding? You don’t have time for kids, and you know it. Despite what your uterus wants, you do have to find a stable time to want to produce so for now, you shall wait until the time is right. Hence, why you remain on birth control until you know for sure. Otherwise, life goes on as always. Besides… you do recall the last time you had sex. And… it wasn’t with Hoseok. A secret you will take to your grave if you have to. A secret that happened one drunken night weeks after you and Hoseok broke up. And, you never went back hence why it has been a year since you’ve had sex.
You had guilt as if you cheated on Hoseok even though you did not in fact. Either way, you throw the memory into the depths of your mind and try to force yourself to forget how plush the man’s lips felt along your skin. Instead, you replace it with the brief kiss Jeongguk left on your forehead which feels so out of reach.
During the time of messaging back and forth, one evening, Jeongguk offers to call you due to an atrocious event happening at your workplace that you and LenLen got involuntarily involved in. A customer apparently read a sales sign wrong and didn’t realize it until checkout and no matter how much you and your coworker tried explaining things, the customer was not having it which leaves you to call a manager. Overall, it was a situation that unfolded that you honestly wished didn’t hover in your brain cells, but when Jeongguk calls so you can rant, it means the world.
“You are quite attractive and that’s one hundred percent a compliment, and I’m not one to just throw those around to male specimens.” You confess after long conversation. It’s like you moved on from the awkward interactions. Plus, you convince yourself that you came on too strong the last time you saw him.
He snickers on the other line and vividly you imagine his smile, tickling your tummy like the beating wings of multiple butterflies. “Why, thank you. You definitely have my attention, too, ya know.”
“Well…’ You press the knuckle of your thumb to your bottom lip for a second, “That’s very sweet of you to say.”
“And you also deserve to be respected. I’m sorry the customer gave you and your friend such a hard time. If retail is no longer what you want to do, my stepbrother owns a well-known bookstore. I remember you mentioning your love for books at one point and I’m sure he will offer good pay.”
“You would do that for lil’ ole’ me?”
Chuckling lightly, “Anybody with a smart mouth like yours needs a break too.”
“Oh shucks,” though he can’t see it, your cheeks flush a hot shade of red. “Consider me interested! I may give the store some more time since I don’t want to leave LenLen stranded so abruptly, otherwise, I might put in an application just cause.”
“I’ll keep my stepbrother posted.”
You thank him before you decide to head to bed, dazed on cloud nine as you hang up the phone.
-
It doesn’t matter how busy you are, the second you see the: Jeongguk is typing…. Notification it’s:
Halt. Stop everything and scramble to unlock the phone screen. Breathe. He is just a guy. He is just a dude with tattoos. Okay, must read message in sixty seconds to not seem desperate. Force yourself to Google search ‘kittens’ to distract your frantic desire to reply immediately to his every text. Does it work? Partially.
So…. I was wondering, would you happen to be off in the next few days? It’s been a minute.
Double take. Eyes enlarged. No way. Inhale. Release. Slowly but clearly, you reread the Snapchat message as if your life depends on it. How long has it been since you two have been messaging back and forth? Maybe a few weeks? But how should you respond? Maybe not as excited so you don’t appear deprived? Or seem super excited so that he knows you are most definitely wanting to meet up? You were super proud of yourself with how contained you stayed when he called you however long ago. Nay, appear neutral. Come across dainty with a sprinkle of bad ass, that’ll get him…. Right? Okay, maybe not.
Funny you ask because I happen to be off today. Send. You squeal internally. You genuinely can’t help how stoked you are in seeing him; the next question is, what is his idea of fun aside from the coffee shop? You are honestly up for anything even if it’s admiring the night sky on a roof with glasses of wine. Or, admiring his tattoos and him explaining the meanings of each one. You have always wanted to get a tattoo yourself but have yet to decide not only what to get but when the right time will be. As with anything, you want the first time to be special. That’s what she said, as you roll your eyes at yourself. Your uterus sure likes to talk, and you really hope you can keep yourself tame once you see him again because a year of no intimacy is already hard enough; and you atrociously hate admitting that you sometimes become lonely for a partner even though healing this past year has been a roller coaster. Even trying to avoid the temptation to reach out… to the last man you entangled with.
Shuddering with guilt, you stroll to the kitchen upon waiting for Jeongguk’s response, and you notice beneath a magnet the card the driver, Jimin, had given you forever ago. The day you met Jeongguk. Carefully shifting it out from under the magnet, an idea does form. Maybe Jeongguk would like to meet you there at the opening. Does he seem like a ‘bar’ type kinda guy? Oh. You wince. What does that even mean? Who doesn’t like a bar setting with a few beers? Plus, it’s been a while since you’ve been to one so why not?
Well today is our lucky day for I happen to have the next 12 hours to find something fun to do. Whaddya say about joining me?
Bring it on, Cigs. You respond and despite the nervous jitters, you type more after the initial message you sent. I actually promised to go to an opening of a new bar that happens to be tonight. If I send the address, would you like to meet me there?
When he asks for the time and where, you send the information. You will get to see him tonight. Now all you can do is panic about what to wear and if you even have anything to wear for the occasion.
Fantastic.
-
Quivering fingers amidst clammy palms slide across the tops of your thighs while you steadily breathe. You, being the early bird that you are, arrive at the bar a few minutes earlier than what you mentioned to Jeongguk. The last you heard from him was when you both finalized the plan. To calm the nerves, you definitely need a drink. A strong one. Your maroon dress clings to your frame the way you like, and you made sure your make up was exactly how you like it to be.. You haven’t felt this confident since you left your ex. And you hope this proves that you never need a man to help you dress.
You ordered a cab to get there so you didn’t have to worry about driving, and you figure if you and Jeongguk still hit it off in person as you do through messaging, then maybe he can make sure you get home safely. So, you hope. Maybe even make up for lost time since the alley.
Sending a quick message to let Jeongguk know you have arrived; your eyes observe your surroundings, and you don’t see him anywhere just yet. Maybe he is stuck in traffic? You wonder. If he is driving, obviously he shouldn’t message you, so you show your ID to the bouncer after standing in line for a few minutes letting the uneasiness settle.
Bodies are scattered among the floor as music blares throughout the building. Laughter and the smell of alcohol is the first thing that comes to your nostrils while your eyes trail for some familiar faces if any happen to be here. Colorful flashing lights wave over the tables, walls, and chairs while people dance continuously, and you really hope despite the overall dim lighting you recognize Jeongguk the second he walks in. Regardless, you search for Jimin since he is the one who invited you, but you haven’t seen him thus far.
Swallowing down the nerves, you squeeze through the crowd until you reach the bar, asking for something strong for you to sip on until Jeongguk arrives. It’s been about ten minutes once your drink is in your hand, and when you check your phone, Jeongguk still hasn’t read the message. You contemplate phoning him, but know it’s too loud to try, so you assure yourself he will be here. You have full confidence that he will call you if he is running late. Which… technically at this point he should have called you by now.
To divert yourself from the sinking feeling, you watch the bustles of people having the time of their lives when a particular human being causes your shoulders to stiffen and your mouth to run dry. Flashbacks of that night flicker in your mind as a weary sense of dread subdues you. The secret you have kept concealed from the world. Stay calm, y/n. Remain. Calm. You hardly remember how you got there, but you noticed how handsome he was, how his hair was loosening from the gel, and his smile put you at ease as you two laughed together. He was drunk, too, but both of you were still aware enough to know what was happening. What was stirring between you two. All you held onto was how he was the first to make you laugh in weeks during that time.
You knew you shouldn’t have been there, but you didn’t care, and you were desperate to feel something. Freshly single and overruled by anger, you let it win. When you kissed him for the first time, he froze, and you pulled away. But he held your eyes, flitting between them without a single word. Instead, he leaned forward and kissed you back, and you remember the way his palm felt on your cheek. The way the kisses grew aggressive and emotional as if he felt the guilt from keeping the secret buried from you. Knowing his best friend was in the wrong for what he did to you, but he knew it wasn’t his place to tell you the truth. But boy, had you made it your place to entangle with this guy who was giving into what his emotions were displaying. He wanted you to feel special. It was like his kisses brought an apology you wished your ex would have given you.
So, in a strange yet erotic way, you let it all go with him. Drunken, slovenly kisses until the pair of you started to sober up enough to experiment further. You can’t remember much of the foreplay, but you do, however, remember when he pressed himself into you, riding smoothly as he kissed every inch of your face and your neck. His hands didn’t exactly know where to touch, but his lips did, and that was enough. He moved in you so gently.
When you had awaken the next morning, you laid flat on your back while tears streamed from the corners of your eyes. You don’t know how long you remained there. You don’t know how long you silently cried. But you left before he woke up. You left before you both had to take in account of what you two had done. What you two had shared.
Now here he is in the present.
Kim Namjoon, Hoseok’s best friend, is here, and he spots you almost as immediately as you spot him. Gulping, you do not know what else to do other than spin around immediately and face the bar contemplating to chug every ounce of the alcohol remaining in your glass. Setting your drink down cautiously to not spill the contents, a rear of nausea raises its ugly head. What is Namjoon doing here!? The last time you saw him was the night you would do anything to forget.
Heart hammering, you squeeze your eyes closed. Namjoon may have given you a good night to hold on to for a while a year ago, but it wasn’t anything more than that. It couldn’t be. You were full of anger and a brief desire of revenge, and you were drunk, and you were-
Large hands lean upon the counter of the bar on either side of you as you suck in a breath. You recognize those hands. Those hands are the ones that slid along your body while you pleaded for more. And the countenance of his frame over towers you as you feel the tip of his lips centimeters from your ear kindling goosebumps along your arms. But these hands aren’t the hands you’ve been waiting for. Not one tattoo shows on these hands.
“Long time, no see.” Namjoon says into your ear. Mustering enough courage after steadying yourself, you turn to face him for the first time in a year. His eyes are as filled with longing as they were the night you last saw him. The kind of longing that wonders of how you feel about what occurred. If you still ponder it.
“What are you doing here!?” You say amongst your trembling body. You try to stay firm though you know deep down none of this was Namjoon’s fault. Trying to set your jaw, you take in the way his shirt tugs at his muscles, and the way his hair is gelled to perfection. You have forgotten how beautiful this man is, but Jeongguk. Where the literal fuck is Jeongguk? He is who you want deep down. So where is he? “Never mind that,” you shake your head, realizing he has every right to be here as you do. “What do you want?”
Namjoon’s eyes flicker along your face momentarily before he speaks. The way his dominant gaze holds you in place could drive any woman mad. “To make sure you’re okay.”
“Oh bullshit.” You say through gritted teeth because not only is Namjoon’s proximity bringing unwanted emotions, but it is also bringing the memories of Hoseok. Memories you really have tried not to relive.
Namjoon’s eyes squeeze shut. “y/n, I’m being serious. You fell off the face of the earth since…”
“Since what? Since Hoseok? Or you?” His mouth shuts automatically. “I don’t know what you expect me to say. What happened that night… It was my fault. I know that, but it shouldn’t have happened.” The anger for even saying Hoseok’s name after so long of refusing to is a strange feeling. Namjoon swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and you visibly see the guilt in his eyes because he agrees. Hoseok has been his best friend since they were kids. “How long had you known by the way? About the other girl? Who is she?” He releases a sigh, shaking his head while he tilts his gaze downward in shame. He knows. Of course, he does. He’s refusing to answer the question, but you ask another one anyway. You know it’s too loud to whisper, and from your peripheral, you may have gained a few stares, but you raise your voice just enough for Namjoon to hear. “Does… he know?”
“That we fucked?” Namjoon answers quickly, his eyes locking with yours. “Of course not.” He’s not going to risk losing his friendship is what you are reading between the lines.
“Good.” You refuse to move your gaze. “Keep it that way. Please.” He’s still so close. And you breathe in his scent. Your hand brushes his chest, while your forehead touches to his chin. Both of you share a silent understanding. A pact.
Namjoon is about to say more but you politely shove his arm out of your way ignoring his reach to stop you. You’re scared that you will give in to the thought of him from all these emotions. Whatever he has to say, he can keep it to himself. For now. You need to catch your breath.
Checking your phone, Jeongguk still hasn’t read your message and at this point, you have no idea of where he is or why he even bothered agreeing to show up if he truly had no intentions of seeing you again. Maybe you should have known better. He has the bad boy persona just from his stature, but maybe for once you wanted to believe you could get excited about someone again. Maybe he was the distraction you hoped for and needed, and now that your nerves are shot, and your heart is aching from all the emotions, you’ll do anything at this point to rid of it all.
Regretfully forgetting your drink at the bar and realizing after you move to another section of the place, you happen to see Jimin whose face lights up with recognition. Air escapes your lungs yet again because you forgot how attractive he is too. You notice he has been conversing with none other than Kim Seokjin which makes you want to faint since he is so famous and you have yet to meet a famous person, but for right now, despite the tears wanting to spill down your cheeks from the interaction with Namjoon and the acceptance that Jeongguk will not be showing up after all, you are so thankful that Jimin is making his way towards you. Until your emotions settle, you cannot risk humiliating yourself in front of a celebrity of Seokjin’s status. It would be too much.
Your jaw almost drops though when you catch a sudden glimpse of your coworker LenLen who is snug against a man with fluffy hair a short distance away, and you realize that this must be the man she’s been talking to you about! You tell yourself that you will make sure to say hey to her if you get the chance. It’s about time other conversation is shared that is not related exclusively to work.
“Hey there!” Jimin smiles fully, bringing your muddled mind back to attention. He leans in for a quick hug before pulling away. “You look amazing!”
Blushing, you feel where his fingers stop at your elbows. He has such a kind aura about him that makes you feel safe, so you hope he invites you to hang out, especially since LenLen happens to be in the group Jimin has been socializing with from your quick assumptions. “You look good, too!” You feel like you’re shouting, but you don’t care. You are somewhat relieved to finally have somebody to hang out with no matter how quick it lasts. “How is the opening going? Everything go according to plan?”
“Hell, yeah it has!” Jimin beams. “Taehyung is beyond happy with the results. The line outside is insanity!”
“So happy for you both!” You say, and before you think you may have some form of solace, you wonder where Namjoon is or if he miraculously left, but instead of him, you notice someone else. And you beg the heavens on why you can’t seem to catch a break.
Heart shattering to the floor, your eyes widen, and if Jimin is chatting, you definitely can’t hear him over the loud pounding of your heart in your temples. Is this the real reason Namjoon approached you? That he tried to stop you? To warn you?
If the forbidden person you are frozen by sees you, you don’t care, you need a reason for his heart to break. Something worse than him finding out that you slept with his best friend if he ever does. Hoseok pauses the moment he sees you standing there; a strange look of confusion dawns him instantly as his eyes look from you to Jimin and back. You can’t help the way your gaze automatically drifts to see if you find her, too. The girl he chose over you, but you do not see a female near him. Not yet. You tell yourself that you never want to know who she is, but there is always that sick vengeance of discovering.
Jimin’s eyebrow arches as he follows your gaze. Whether he knows Hoseok or not, that part is the least of your concerns. Jeongguk stood you up, Namjoon confronted you, and your ex-boyfriend who you loved for three years that relentlessly ripped your heart out of your chest- is here and it is too overwhelming to describe right now the full-blown panic shredding every fiber of your being; the utter disbelief how this shit show of a night has unfolded. You wish you were drunk enough to ignore this inexplainable pain. You wish you had a place to escape to.
But… Maybe Jimin is it. If Jeongguk didn’t want to be, then maybe Jimin will.
Despite his furrowed eyebrows, when Jimin turns just enough to look at you, it’s all it takes. Briskly, you cup his face, pressing a kiss to his cloud-like lips while he stumbles in surprise. Relief floods your quivering frame when he doesn’t even remotely hesitate to kiss you back. His lips are enticingly soft and pure, and he tilts his head to deepen the kiss letting the tip of his tongue brush yours ever so slightly. He tastes of peppermint and booze, and he tastes so good, you get tipsy just off his lips. You move your hands to lock behind his neck while his fingers find a hold on your waist. “Well damn,” he says breathless against your lips while peppering short kisses in between his words. “If I would have known, I would have done this much sooner.”
Gripping loose strands on the back of his head, you lift onto the tips of your toes. “You won’t regret it,” you purr into Jimin’s ear, gaze tauntingly floating to stare right into Hoseok’s, whose eyes widen in enormous shock, before Jimin pins you to his frame as if your clothes are a barrier he wishes didn’t exist. Everywhere is too crowded to really notice the way you two lock lips for majority of the evening. And you are well aware that you two are not the only ones making out.
You know Hoseok is watching every second, probably fuming, probably balling his fists, probably justifying every reason he has to interrupt. You hope he is watching every grip of Jimin’s fingers on your ass, the way his lips suck your neck, or the way he twirls your body under the spotlight if a song he likes comes on. You know the jealousy that’s bubbling beneath Hoseok’s chest is about to erupt. But he also knows better than to intervene between the woman he betrayed and who he is assuming to be her new boyfriend. Because it’s too late. You wouldn’t take him back even if he begged. Because whoever she is out there, she knows what she did to you, too. How she couldn’t even show her face when Hoseok burst onto the porch the day you found out. How her breasts were rounded beneath Hoseok’s shirt. The shirt you painfully remembered was missing when you finally had a moment where your emotions didn’t get the best of you. She had that shirt the entire time.
You hadn’t planned to invite Jimin over. The night drives on and you see that Jeongguk at this point, indeed, read your message, but didn’t bother to respond. Didn’t bother to even make an excuse. To explain why he left you to unintentionally fend for yourself. He could have been here. He could have saved you from tonight if he wanted to. But he didn’t.
You hop into Jimin’s car willingly and he drives you home, kissing you and kissing you while your clothes hit the bedroom floor. Jimin slides on a condom before he pushes into you from behind when your body pins to the wall, him pounding as if to the beat of a song while his teeth dig into your shoulder, into your neck. “Deeper!” You squeal. “Keep going, ah-!”
You do not care about the sounds that have echoed from either of your mouths or the number of positions you two have attempted. You lost count after four. You don’t care that you just met him a few weeks ago. You don’t care how you are going to feel in the morning. Yes, you are aware that you are sober this time. But you want Jimin to keep moving inside you until you forget about your one-night stand with your ex’s best friend. Till you forget about Hoseok’s betrayal that haunts your mind and shreds your heart. Till you forget about the girl who took part in ruining your life. Till you forget about the tattooed man who you hoped would rescue you.
Cigs.
Fuck you, Cigs.
-
The morning comes quickly coupled with a pounding headache while you groggily stretch your arms and legs amidst the tangled bed sheets. You accidentally brush warm skin causing you to jolt upright. Wincing, the pounding in your head worsens, yet you turn just enough to assess that you one hundred percent just hooked up with the hot driver who co-owns a bar and is best friends with a celebrity.
Fuck.
Your palms slap to your face. You weren’t even intoxicated, so how could you let this happen? You may not have been drunk off your ass, but you sure as hell were emotional and that can be equally as dangerous as taking shots of the strongest alcoholic beverage out there. “Shit,” you murmur to yourself, watching the slow fall and rise of Jimin’s breathing. Kenai chirps outside your bedroom door and you realize it is probably past his breakfast time. Slipping out of bed as quietly as you can, you freshen up and brush your teeth. Twice. Just in case if you ultimately decide to continue this rendezvous before you kick Jimin out.
Shuddering, you wonder how loud you might have been last night. And by that you mean, was your sister home? And did she hear the commotion you let out the second you got Jimin alone? If she was home maybe, you could handle that truth. What also concerns you is if Yoongi was home too. You couldn’t bear facing the two of them if they were home while you tackled Jimin like a football player between the sheets.
Oh, when will all this humiliation end!? You want to scream outwardly. It’s been never ending. And, when you start to dress into a nightgown, you finger at the red mark on your shoulder. A reminder of where Jimin had been. And you hate that you like it.
Leaving the bathroom trying to rid the thought, you see Jimin is fully awake and putting on his shirt, his pants already hugging his toned legs. His hair is unkempt from the night before, and it looks cuter that way with his array of colors dyed with the blonde. “Hey there,” he smiles brightly when he sees you. You notice him pop a piece of gum in his mouth which you figure is because he never planned to bring a toothbrush… Because he hadn’t planned to sleep with anybody until you ferociously pounced.
��Hey,” You reply softly, crossing your arms to lean against the door frame of the bathroom. Kenai is still meowing outside the bedroom, frequently pawing at the door.
“Somebody’s pissed.” Jimin chuckles, pointing at the door.
“He’s starving 24/7 and likes to remind me just as often.” You kid, eventually stepping to sit on the bed. You aren’t sure how to feel about last night. But at the same time, should you regret it? The way Jimin’s eyes swept your body, to be honest, you kind of don’t regret it. “How did you sleep?” You try to make small talk to prevent any uneasy friction.
“Wonderfully.” He smiles again. “I hope you did?” He stands, rounding the bed to gently take a seat next to you. The smell of mint from his gum wafting to you tempting you to taste it.
“I did.” You return his smile, leaning in to touch a small kiss to his plush lips. Your headache is starting to dull some which makes you feel better. “Thank you for last night. I had fun.” You lean your forehead against his cheek as he leans back into you.
“I had fun, too.” He says quietly. Taking in a deep breath, he stands as you follow suit. “I better get going. Taehyung has been blowing up my phone wondering where I am. Really, I mean it when I say I had fun. Maybe… we can link up again soon?”
Hand in hand, you lead him to the front door while Kenai excitingly runs his furry body against both of your legs. Giggling, you kiss Jimin some more, “I’d like that.” A couple more kisses and you smile against his lips, “See ya.”
“See ya.” He nods, kissing your cheek one last time before taking off. As much as you wish that your heart would be soaring through the sky: it doesn’t. All your head can seem to obsess over is why Jeongguk stood you up. Was it all a game? Just to get a high that a girl wanted him, just for him to leave her stranded. What gives? In the end, is it really worth the explanation? You are so sick of getting screwed over.
“Who was that?”
“GAH!” You jump causing Kenai to dash wherever he can to hide. Your heart nearly stopped beating and your hand flies to your chest with relief when you see the teasing stare of your sister, Monnie.
“Monnie! For goodness sakes, you scared the fuck out of me!”
“Well!?” Monnie, not missing a beat, bellows. “Who was he!?”
“Nobody.” That is your first response as if you need a defense mechanism.
“Nobody!? With the animalistic sounds I heard last night, you have the absolute nerve to tell me that was nobody!?”
“He’s… He’s a guy I met a few weeks ago,” you try to reply while your heartbeat attempts to calm.
“He is cute,” she coos. “Like smooth like butter cute. Like the butter you slab on a piece of crisp toast cute. He can make anybody feel warm and fuzzy. Girl, I’m telling you right now-”
“Okay, we get it! I know.” You aren’t sure how to cope with the chagrin reddening your cheeks, or the dulling headache on top of it, but you manage somehow. “Please tell me Yoongi isn’t here.”
“Lucky for you he’s at a conference and has been since yesterday afternoon, so he didn’t hear a thing. I was supposed to go but I got-” She mimics what is supposed to be a cough into her hand. “Sick.”
“Oh! You are ridiculous!”
“It’s called, my sister brought home a cute guy for the first time in a decade, and I must hear all about it.”
“Nope!” You say trying to brush past her. “By the way, it’s only been a year.”
“Not anymore-!”
“Gah!” You clap back, slamming your bedroom door, and diving onto your bed, the mattress bounces your body while you scream heavily into a pillow. The scent of Jimin is everywhere in your room still and your sister’s voice keeps rattling on about how she just wants you to be happy and that you deserve to be even though in your heart, you have no idea when that day will come. Eventually you will confide in her about everything, but for now you will bury your face into the pillow and let the tears flow until you fall back asleep.
-
Monnie reluctantly gives you space, but only because she has ‘somewhere to be,’ and she is ‘not going to let you make her late.’ So, she says. You give Kenai an extra bit of food in hopes to win back his forgiveness and you dress out of the nightgown considering another trip to the coffee shop. Your eyes burn slightly from the crying earlier. After last night, you happen to note that you never got Jimin’s number which is probably a good thing so he can avoid the hot mess of thoughts spinning profusely in your mind. Between seeing Namjoon and Hoseok last night and hooking up with Jimin, you can hardly imagine what the two could have said after seeing, not only you, but you sucking faces with another guy. Though it’s nice to have male attention from time to time, you didn’t expect it all to unravel at once.
Some people would make you feel so stupid for your actions while others would praise you for being so bold and independent. You’re single and you can do whatever you want. Are you really mad that you hooked up with Jimin last night? Out of desperation for running into your ex? Or are you more broken about Jeongguk standing you up, and ashamed that you are upset about it when you only have seen him twice?
You can’t help the way you feel. You inhale and exhale deeply. Running from your thoughts is all you want right now.
Entering the coffee shop, you ordered a cab and left a tip because you really despise driving, and here you are in line eventually ordering the same drink you got last time. Why you feel to look for Jeongguk, you wish you didn’t. Training your eyes to focus on what is in front of you- you grip the coffee cup once it’s placed on the counter, and you find a small table in the back away from as many people as you can avoid.
He has his reasons, but you really hope that the reasons weren’t to play with your feelings purposefully. Even though that’s exactly what it looks like. Inwardly, you accept that you probably will never see him again, and you also convince yourself that maybe Jeongguk really was a figment of your imagination. The messages on your phone will say otherwise, but for now, with the hot liquid of your coffee stinging your tongue, you will continue convincing yourself that he is a simple figment of your imagination.
That thought lasts about thirty minutes, when your coffee is halfway downed and the view of a tatted hand glides upon the table where you feel your throat shrink. No fucking way. You keep your gaze on your coffee cup, the faint smell of a cigarette wafts in your direction and you refuse to look at him. Anger blares inside you. You can tell he is gradually taking the seat across from you because it is pretty evident how rigid you are in response to his presence. He can tell you are annoyed. Maybe even furious.
“Hey…” He forces once he scoots the chair closer to the table. You stay silent. “Look, I-”
“What do you want?” You look up finally. His look is firm, but guilt stricken all at the same time. He presses his lips together. “No, really. Amuse me.” You wave a hand at him. “Was it a one night stand you wanted? Because you could have just asked.”
His eyes enlarge but only slightly. “No. No, that’s definitely not-”
“Then what? What do you want?” You rarely give him a chance to speak before you start gathering your things. To prevent unwanted attention, you toss the coffee cup into the trash can on your way out, Jeongguk on your heels. Marching toward the sidewalk that you can follow back to the city; you huff in exasperation when you feel his hand curl around your arm.
“Let go of me!” You say loudly, thrusting your arm away from him.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay. Just- just let me explain-”
“Oh, go fuck yourself.” You try to walk away.
“y/n. Please.”
You thought you lost your shit last night when you attacked Jimin’s mouth in front of Hoseok. And you thought you lost your shit this morning when you sobbed into your pillow. But this anger and desperation and sadness that you have kept pent up since the day you discovered Hoseok’s infidelity is about to explode. And it’s about to explode in what you know will embarrass you for the rest of your life. Or… it just flat out won’t.
Scoffing, you pause, spinning to face Jeongguk, whose hands raise as if to calm you down, but you are far from calm. “You know what?” You say slowly. “That whole spiel about how I deserve to be respected was a whole load of bullshit wasn’t it?” You step forward making it clear that you aren’t done speaking, and though Jeongguk claimed weeks ago that he wasn’t scared of anything, there is the slightest hint of fear you gather in his eyes though he straightens to let his arms hang loosely at his sides. “I’m starting to think there’s no such thing anymore. First, after three years, with who I thought was the absolute love of my life, three years, he cheats on me with some chick I still to this day do not know who she is or how the fuck they met. So, for unplanned revenge, I fucked his best friend and guess what!?” You throw your hands up, “They both were at the bar last night. Both. Of. Them. How the fuck does that happen!? I move to the city to run away from my problems, and they follow me anyway. They fucking follow me as if I need that reminder. As if I need to relive that heartbreak over and over again. As if I deserve it- to have it thrown in my face.” Running your hands through your hair, you choke back a sob. You refuse to cry in front of this man who is basically a stranger but not really. You don’t notice the remorse showing in his eyes after revealing your limited yet very detailed confession. How he could have easily prevented this.
“I meet you once, and for the first time in a year, I finally know what it’s like to be excited again. To have something to potentially look forward to.” You laugh one syllable. “And yet, I don’t fucking know a single thing about you. Where you’re from, where you work, why you suddenly start coming to this coffee shop when I have never seen you there before, and I keep beating myself up for being so damned hurt about this when you’re a total stranger.” You can’t even look him in the eyes. “And there you are, completely leaving me stranded in a bar when you said you’d fucking be there. Respect, my ass. Have a nice life, Cigs.”
“You do deserve respect.” Oh, why do you pause? “I fucked up last night, okay!? I um…” He trails off, shaking his head as if to rid of whatever he originally was going to say. “Something came up-”
“Is that what it’s going to be every single time!? Something came up!?”
He winces when he acknowledges how bad it seems. “Look I- I know how it sounds. Please. Just let me make it up to you.”
Scanning him from his styled hair to the charcoal color of his boots, the thrilling sense of lust clouds your frame simultaneously to your mouth watering. It takes everything in you not to rush forward and cling onto him as if your life depends on it. But, at the same time, you see a guy who completely ghosted you on a night you may have needed his company most. And, if he was willing to do that to you last night, why wouldn’t he do it again?
The anger is still written all over your face and your demeanor. Sneering, your lips curl.
“No.”
And you stomp off toward whatever destination you hope to find as you did a year ago when you ran from disappointment. You wonder how it feels for him to see you walk away this time.
-
It doesn’t matter the day or the hour. Every time you step foot into the same coffee shop, he’s there. Jeongguk is there. Sitting a table away, keeping his eyes on you. Waiting for you to cave. You have ignored every single message he has sent. Every call he has attempted. Yet, you are also fighting the urge to just be near him. Give him another chance. Maybe it’s the fact that you truly do want to know where he was the night, he stood you up. But is it worth knowing the truth? The only thing you didn’t mention the last time you spoke to Jeongguk was the one night stand you had with Jimin. Not that it was any of Jeongguk’s business, but still. You don’t want to appear like sex with strangers is something you do all the time, because it’s not. And even if it was, it’s nobody’s business but yours.
You decide to walk the city. If he follows you there, then so be it. Compiling your things, you head out onto the sidewalk, letting the breeze nip your skin. The recent memory of LenLen asking about Jimin and you trying your best to answer her questions without blushing replays. She told you about Taehyung and how him and Jimin are best friends which you happened to already know and you relay to her how happy you are that she found Taehyung. You also apologize that you didn’t get to say hello, but she winks at you for she witnessed the reason why.
When you start reaching the city, you hardly can believe the huge sign, flashing upon the tallest building, of Hoseok’s face which roots your feet to the cement while tears spring in response. Cursing under your breath, you realize that one of the books he had been working on back when you two were together must have been released, the one he continuously spoke about. The one inspired from the script he hoped Kim Seokjin would film a movie with. The one that began with you. Which means, if it has become a success, then now you are going to see his face everywhere you turn. And, if the movie is made, that’s even more publicity Hoseok will gain and even more often you will have to see his face. The more hurt you will endure.
“Damnit,” you want to sob. Out of all the places you think to turn, you flee into the bookstore just to almost collide with a book stand filled from top to bottom with Hoseok’s novel. Fret overpowers your system, and you rush out the doors the second you see it, and you figure maybe walking home, no matter the distance, will help clear the stress out of you. Even though you know it won’t. Because at this point, you give up being in public.
You nearly slam into a figure from your rushed state and when the whiff of a cigarette mingled with cologne greets your nose, you know exactly who you’ve run into. “Why are you doing this.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement. “Why are you following me, Asshole? Did I not make myself clear?”
“I told you I wanted to make it up to you.”
“And I told you no from what I recall.”
“I have short term memory loss.”
“Oh, go fuck yourself, Nemo-”
“I’d prefer if you joined me.”
“You really are asking to get smacked.”
“I like it rather rough.”
“And I’d like for you to leave me the hell alone.”
“Not until you hear me out.”
“And why should I?”
His eyes flit between yours, “Because I can’t let it go. I messed up.”
“You don’t deserve my forgiveness if that’s what you’re implying. To be honest, it’s ridiculous that I’m even mad about it to begin with. I don’t even know you.”
“See, but you have every right to be. You should be mad.”
“Okay. Well then accept that I’m pissed at you and move on.”
“I shan’t.”
You could laugh. You almost laugh. But you hold it together because you can’t just let him think he can get away with how he just randomly leaves you stranded. When you both almost kissed in the alley way, you could sense that his desire was as solid as yours. He acted as if he wanted you. So, why did he just walk away? What is the point in pursuing someone who will always walk away?
Shoving past him, you wish you would have driven this go round so a route of escape would be available. But unfortunately, you didn’t think this through. The only place you can think of is the garden center above the bookstore that you have only visited every now and then this past year. What of Hoseok could possibly be up there? A mural? Stalking in the direction of the building, you avoid making eye contact with the huge ad about your ex, and eventually round the store to find the elevator. There are only a few floors before you reach the top and once you elbow the button to awaken the elevator, the last thing you expect is Jeongguk to follow you right in when the large doors slide open. But honestly you should have expected it.
You elbowed the button for the top floor where the smell of flowers waits for you, but you can’t ignore the tension simmering once the doors close. You bite the corner of your lip in agony, the ding of the elevator agonizingly slow. “I know you’re not about to stop and smell the roses, Eyebrow.” Referring to his eyebrow piercing that makes your insides lustfully shiver, you’re shocked he takes all your nicknames so well, but then you remember you’re supposed to be mad at him. “Why can’t you just take a hint?”
His finger presses to your lips, vanishing your words as he seductively shushes you. And he shifts to stand in front of you, his nose dangerously tickling the side of your cheek while your body fights to not react to the arousal forming below. He whispers, “I don’t need a hint to know that you want me just as much as I want you.” Whimpering, your eyes trace his face, the way his jaw curves, the way his eyes set firmly to you with no intention of moving. Did you hear him correctly? Did he just admit that he, in fact, wants you too? “So,” he continues, slipping his finger away from your lips, he brings his mouth to yours while you sigh in pleasure. Fuck. Your body begs for him to close the gap. Begs for him to kiss you. But he doesn’t. Not yet. “I suggest you behave yourself if you want to keep me tame.”
He is doing to you what you did to him that day in the coffee shop making an effort to seduce him. But this time, he is winning more than you are letting on. When the ding of the elevator brings attention to the opening doors, Jeongguk sighs, “We’re not going there.” Reaching back to hit whatever button he chooses; you don’t even move to see. He can take you wherever he wants, and you could smack yourself for conceding.
“What do you mean?” You murmur, swallowing the lump in your throat.
“I um,” he tilts his head as if embarrassed. “I live here. So, we’re going to the third floor.”
“Excuse me, what?” Your mind is trying to make the connection how it’s possible that he lives on the third floor of your favorite bookstore smack dab in the city. You’ve heard of people who have homes above the places they own, so… Does that mean Jeongguk owns the bookstore? You thought he said his stepbrother owns it? His hand finds yours when the doors slide open again, showing shelves upon shelves of books with sparse customers quietly reading or viewing the array of covers.
Your brain cells are racing but never reaching a finish line as your eyes frantically scan the hallway the pair of you are entering. You try to appreciate the feel of Jeongguk’s hand holding yours, warm and firm and surprisingly safe though you wish you hadn’t lost the will to fight. Why is it so easy for him to melt your anger away? To melt your sadness? To heighten your senses.
He scans something, you assume a card, before opening a large door, flipping on the lights to show an area of simplicity and barely any furniture to decorate once you step inside. The scent is new as if it has just been built, but you know that is impossible considering this bookstore has been around for years. Automatically, you both kick off your shoes. “My stepbrother used to live here before, so I moved in.” He says as if reading your mind. “That’s why there’s not much here, but there’s enough to keep comfortable.” He gestures toward a sofa awkwardly sitting in the middle of what you assume is the living room and loud meows start echoing the second you see a few cat towers sprawled out. Flounder and Tetra.
“I remember you saying he owns a bookstore… it’s here?” You say in disbelief as the cats come flying to greet you and Jeongguk. How can you be mad anymore when these sweet little fluff puffs are rubbing against your legs, mewing for attention? Jeongguk giggles while he tries to bring back the conversation.
He shrugs, unintentionally dismissing the sexual tension that concocted in the elevator only seven minutes ago now that the cats are out and about. “He’s an actor now. He took over when his dad retired.”
“…What do you do?” You’re quiet and you don’t mean to be, but you’ve been struggling with mixed emotions for what seems like an eternity. At this point, you accept if this is a dream versus reality.
“Nothing,” he says after a moment, head looking downward. You lick your lips when your eyebrows furrow, but strangely you understand this shame. If your sister didn’t have money, you’d be homeless. Your parents live far away, and in all honesty, you don’t truly talk to them as often as you should. You work part time at a retail store because you can’t seem to get your shit together enough to work full time otherwise, you’d be in the same boat… you’d be doing just that. Nothing. “I used to work as a tattoo artist before I moved here, but um… you may find this hard to believe, but I got my heart broken by someone I fell in love with when I was eighteen.”
“You?” You croak. You mean it to come off as a joke but fail miserably. He finally tilts his head up, softly grinning.
“Yes, a tatted asshole that wears leather and smokes cigs can be capable of falling in love and getting heartbroken instead of causing the heartbreak, Macchiato… Happy?”
Why this vulnerability is happening is unbeknownst to you, but you are very happy that he seems to be opening up. He all but admitted he wants you, too. So, the least he can do is try. Try letting you see past the mystery. Try staying instead of leaving. Saying hello instead of goodbye.
“How long were you two together?” You may have spilled the beans of how long you were with Hoseok, not that Jeongguk knows who he is, but three years is a long time.
“Five years. Found out she cheated on me, too… I lost myself for a long time. Ended up at a different girl’s house every week to numb the pain and never called them back the next day. Became addicted to smoking cigarettes. Went to parties quite a bit… Got drunk, you name it… Moved here with my children the second Jin told me I could. That’s when I finally calmed down and realized, I needed to change before it got worse.”
“I’m so sorry… Sometimes people underestimate the pain of a breakup. Especially if you were with them for such a long time as you were.” It’s quiet a little longer than you mean for it to be, but the similarity of how the two of you got your heart broken is an odd coincidence. But then you gasp when a lightbulb clicks. “Jin!? As in, Seokjin?”
“Yeah?” He says unhurriedly. “Is that hard for you to believe?”
“What? No! I’m just- the Kim Seokjin is your stepbrother? He owns this bookstore?”
“Well yeah, he’s the reason the bills are paid for now until I, myself, can get my shit together.”
You know the concentration it takes to complete a puzzle? Well, this is one of those times. Randomly, you wonder. Does Jeongguk know Jimin since Seokjin knows Jimin?
“Do you know who Jimin is?” You spit out. How are all these male specimens connected? Either way, you are definitely not telling Jeongguk about the rendezvous with Jimin that’s for sure.
His eyebrows scrunch and you visibly witness the way his shoulders rigidify as if he knows exactly who you are talking about. “How do you know Jimin?”
“No reason, just wondering. I saw him hanging out with Seokjin at the bar you failed to show up to.”
“Hm.” He hums once. “Interesting.”
“He co-owns the bar with a guy named Taehyung… My co-worker is dating him. Taehyung, I mean.” You’re having a hard time reading Jeongguk’s expression, but he attempts to not be so uptight.
“Did you… See anybody else there?”
His question hits you by surprise, but you know there is no way he could be referring to Hoseok and Namjoon… Could he? No, of course not. He wasn’t there. He doesn’t know who your ex is specifically. You may have mentioned your ex and your ex’s best friend were at the bar, but you had never given any names. It’s as if Jeongguk is asking solely about someone else… But who?
Pushing your fingertips to your forehead, you release an exasperated sigh. “Can I use your restroom?” You need a moment to yourself. All this unwanted ‘solving’ isn’t getting you anywhere. And why is Jeongguk being so weird about Jimin? He doesn’t know about the hook up and Jeongguk is also not your boyfriend, so why does it matter?
“Yeah, this way,” he points in the direction of what you assume is his bedroom. “On the right.”
The door gently clicks behind you while your palms cling onto the counter when you’re securely within the bathroom. It’s huge. You can tell it’s spacious by the fact you can breathe amidst the anxiety. A jacuzzi and a walk-in shower, a door that you are confident is a towel closet is what you take in once you twirl around. It’s beautiful and so clean, it’s as if nobody has inhabited it in a long time. Either way, you don’t want to take too long, so you pull out a small bottle of mouth wash and complete a brisk breathing exercise before filing out into Jeongguk’s bedroom.
You hadn’t taken time to notice how large his bed is either. The covers are invitingly dark, and you can tell from the curtains that are slightly split show the windows to a magnificent view of the city. Whoever Seokjin’s dad had to construct this place was an absolute genius. A home inside a bookstore, that would be a dream come true for millions.
You brace yourself when you step into the living room, and you notice Jeongguk is preparing wine glasses, a bottle of red is in his hand as he begins to pour the crimson liquid. His cats are munching on some food that he put to keep them occupied. You can tell by his body language that he is going to change the subject regarding Jimin. “How did you know?” You say ultimately when you pull out a stool in front of the counter.
“Nothing a good bit of wine can’t fix.” He winks. “Plus, I figured it will calm the nerves, so we can actually… talk.”
You nod reluctantly, fingers pressing beneath the glass before you take a slow sip. The taste is sour with the mouth wash, but you know after a few sips that will change. A wave of calm floods your chest and limbs once you swallow. “Thank you.” You murmur. He leans on the counter instead of moving to take a seat next to you. He can’t take his eyes off you, and he can’t even explain how just being around you makes him feel. You bring a comfort he hasn’t had in a long time. He knows he has gone about it the wrong way, but he is determined to not let you go this time. No matter how much his ex keeps trying to reach out to win him back. He wants you.
“I’m really sorry about the bar.” He manages to say. He’s not the best with apologies, but he knows you deserve one. “That was really fucked up. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“No… You shouldn’t have.” You’re honest because you know what it’s like to be betrayed. Jeongguk of all people should get it too after admitting that he has been cheated on before as you have. You must stand your ground regardless of how weak he secretly makes you because no, this specific situation may not be seen as a betrayal, but it was not okay that he left you there alone. He does, however, want to confess everything, of why he didn’t show up. But something keeps telling him that it’s too soon. When he’s ready, he plans to tell you. But for now, he wants to prove to you that he’s not going anywhere this time.
“I know,” he murmurs.
Taking a longer sip of the wine, you rub at your eyes. “He really did some damage…” You admit, appreciating how easy it is for the pair of you to start opening up. This is something you have battled to talk about since the day you witnessed it. “I mean three years of my life I gave to this guy, and he just…” You throw your hand up. “He just throws every bit of it down the drain. There wasn’t even the slightest red flag. I came home. Heard them in the bedroom… Our bedroom. And I just-” You didn’t want to cry, but the tears greet you with the burn of your nose. “I just left. I don’t even know how long it had been going on. All I know is I blocked him on everything and refuse to give him the time of day. Because I can’t bring myself to face him. Or the pain of it all.” Jeongguk listens contently, sorrow filling his umber eyes. “When I saw him at the bar for the first time in a year, the anger that filled me at first, I wanted to do anything to make him feel the same devastation I felt that day. Sure, I slept with his best friend weeks after the breakup, but he doesn’t know that. And, as much as I want to say the revenge was satisfying… It wasn’t.” You tap your fingers on the counter. “Now I’m here. I’m here in this city, living with my rich sister, and working a part time job. It’s like I want to live in my misery… At least, I have my cat.” You smile, Kenai’s sweet face bringing you peace.
“It takes a long time to move on from something like that. What happened to me was nearly two years ago and it still hurts.” Jeongguk says because he knows exactly how that feels. He still succumbed to his ex’s every beck and call until he met you. That’s when everything started changing for him. Why he couldn’t think straight. When his ex was trying to distract him, his mind was filled with you. “I saw the guy she was cheating with once. I planned to confront him, but… chickened out. I knew if I wasn’t careful, I’d do something I’d regret.”
“Who was he?” You ask. Jeongguk raises his shoulders, pursing his lips.
“I don’t know his name. Just that Seokjin was working on a movie, happened to meet the guy and my girlfriend at the time was with him. Jin put two and two together and called me right after. He recognized her in some of the pictures I posted on social media before I deleted it all.”
“He’s an actor, too? The guy she was with?” You wonder.
“I’m assuming.” He speaks. “She never really met Jin before. Or at least, I never told her specifically that he was my stepbrother. That was a part of my life I tried to keep distant, but when he called me concerned, I knew why she was coming home so late. Or, why she didn’t panic if she knew Jin was my brother who was seeing her in the flesh with another dude.” Jeongguk wets his lips. “And that’s when he tried to help me cope by giving me his apartment here when he saw how far gone, I had gotten. And that’s why she learned to do research on who I’m connected to because apparently me and Seokjin know everybody due to his fame and fortune.” He means the fame and fortune as a joke, but you still ponder.
“So…” Your expression confused. “If that’s the case, how do you know Jimin?”
Jeongguk swallows roughly, “I asked you first.”
Now, it’s your turn to gulp. “About that.” The stool screeches from under you as you immediately stand, chugging every last drop of your wine before you clutch your things to your side. The indent Jimin left on your shoulder has faded some, but it still befuddles you knowing Jeongguk could clue in if he wanted to. “I-I have to go.” You really don’t, but the way your entire body is flushing, and your eyes are wide with panic. What else are you supposed to do? Running is what you do best. As if a lightbulb goes off, Jeongguk’s laugh reverberates behind you.
“Wait a minute, have you banged him?” Halt. You choke completely on your own spit; your trachea insults you while you cough up a storm. Goodness gracious. Why this? Why now? “You totally banged him didn’t you!? Holy shit.”
“So, what if I have?” You stifle another cough whirling to face him. “What the hell are you going to do about it?”
That’s when the air between you two immediately silences as if you gave him the challenge of a lifetime. Not even Tetra or Flounder are around to fill in the void. It’s as if you both are back in the elevator where the temptation became so alive, it was hard to ignore. It was irresistible. The only sound is your breathing as it increases after Jeongguk’s wine glass clinks against the counter. There’s a prolonged few seconds before it all becomes thunderous. He makes his way to you as your purse slips from your quivering arm. Your breathing stops. His fingertips press to touch to the skin of your chest as he tickles circles. His eyes flit from your parting lips to the way your eyes start to show you’re imploring for him to not stop. He taunts you. Edging so close to you, his lips are barely on yours when he whispers, “I’m going to make you forget he exists.”
This time, you’re not letting him walk away from you. Not again. Not ever. Your palm finds itself gripping his shirt while you close the gap. The millisecond Jeongguk’s lips connect with yours, it’s electrifying. It’s as if somebody injected fireworks into your veins, shooting across your skin and awakening your senses ten times the normal, exploding across your mind, body, and soul. Your heart pounds so loud, you’re shocked if he doesn’t hear it. You’ve been with three other guys sexually prior to Jeongguk, but something about this is mystifying. Powerful.
His mouth moves with yours as you gasp into his kiss, letting him guide you until the back of your legs recognizes the arm of the sofa. His hand moves to tangle into your hair while you deepen the kiss, the tip of his tongue finding yours as he caresses it simultaneously taking his free hand to slip into the front of your pants, but you’re not ready for him to pleasure you yet. You want to show him what he will miss out on if he doesn’t choose you in the end. But you weaken when his heated lips press slowly and gently along your jawline, the arousal you feel drips, his fingers sliding further to slip past your underwear until he runs his fingertips up and down your heat.
“Oh,” he moans with a slight growl burying his face into your neck from how drenched you already are for him. “Holy fuck,” he hisses, trying to keep himself tame. You love the sound of his fingers sloshing up and down against you. But you want it to be you on him.
Shoving him back to give you some space, his hand flies from your pants and he watches you not expecting you to kneel. And not expecting you to fumble undoing his belt, tugging it out of his belt loops, he hisses in response to the point you see his bulge prominently inside his pants. Oh, the way your mouth waters instinctively at the sight of his erection.
Unbuttoning his pants, you yank them down to his ankles, releasing his erection from his underwear where you hum pleasurably at his girth. Your hands run along his thighs seductively; his eyes darken with lust as you connect with them naughtily. Your palm then slides around his length, stroking him agonizingly slow before you take him into your mouth. Letting his precum welcome your taste buds before you hollow your cheeks, the warm skin of his being ignites your arousal even more. His large hand moves to the top of your head where your strands tangle between his tatted fingers. That’s when you begin, bobbing back and forth as speedily as you can, basking in his moans at how amazing you feel. Your hands cling to the bottom of his jacket while you continue your bliss eventually releasing him from your mouth to push him onto the couch where his back plops upon the cushions.
You push his shirt up to visualize his toned abdomen before dipping down to continue sucking, moving your other hand to massage his scrotum, giving him every bit of pleasure, you can to make him crave you. To make him pine for you. Another trick is up your sleeve when your hand returns to his being, following up and down with your mouth while he tries every way not to cum before he gets the chance to pleasure you more. “Holy fuck,” He groans in satisfaction which makes you continue your fun.
Your tongue laps around his tip before you wipe the spittle at the corners of your lips away. When you’re about to continue, he raises, pulling you to his mouth as he kisses you more, becoming hungrier as he shifts you closer. You can tell your clothes are getting in his way for when he pauses, dazed, his hands start to tug at your pants, eventually freeing you from them as you help kick them off. The air in the apartment is colder than you realize. Goosebumps start flying down your legs as you try to regain your focus on removing the articles of clothing off Jeongguk’s top half. Eventually, all linens are plopped onto the floor and your naked bodies are starting to feel every inch of warm skin, captivating every sense, every cell, every emotion, every lustful bliss.
He pauses and you realize his fingertips have paused at the fading spot on your shoulder. The place where Jimin’s teeth sank in. Holding your breath, you see the guilt in Jeongguk’s eyes as his lips become ajar as if he wishes that it could have been him instead. You aren’t sure how to read what he is thinking, especially when he runs the tip of his thumb over the area. But, in the heat of the moment, his other hand slides to the back of your neck where he slightly grips the strands of your hair stimulating you to bite your lip. He tilts your head just enough to cover the spot with his own mouth, sucking harshly on the skin to place his mark. To regain his status. You’ve never seen something so hot, it’s sending immense tingles all through out your frame. He then sprinkles kisses across your chest eventually trailing to your breasts where his tongue flicks over your nipples and the top of his head tickles your chin. Your whimpers increase while he sucks each nipple tenderly, your fingers indenting his back, and the way your vaginal walls leak onto your vulva- you cannot wait for more of this man. Your eyes sweep his figure. His tattoos covering the entirety of his arm.
Goodness, his body is ethereal, and from the way he takes in the view of you bare, you can tell he feels the exact same about you. Your lips tingle for his. Dragging him to you, he crashes his lips to yours, a new addiction you both know will be hard to break. The way his body presses to yours so passionately, it’s as if you have waited your whole life to feel this good. You can still feel the way his lips bruised you on your shoulder, and you adore the way it lingers.
“My turn!” His fingers deliciously dig into your hips, he slides you closer to him despite the limited room on the sofa, and his eyes absorb how sopping wet you are for him even still. He traces his hands to your thighs when you feel your heat clenching fervently for the desire that is taking over your system. Jeongguk wastes no time swiping a finger, sucking your leakage before his tongue starts lapping up every bit of your taste. What really catches you by surprise is how he continues the fast movements, flattening and pointing his tongue seeing which gesture makes you scream for him more. In between, he sucks your clit, taking one hand to reach for the spot above your clit where he massages nice and slow simultaneously while he feasts. “Oh, Guk,” you sigh with elation. “Oh, Guk, yes! Oh my gosh, yes, holy fuck, ah-”
You hardly can contain yourself with how this man is loving your body. He refuses to stop until you feel the powerful jolt of an orgasm, gratifyingly overwhelming your brain as your thighs squeeze together. Jeongguk already pulled away with pure ecstasy of watching you come undone for him. You are so dizzy; you can’t help the way your feet sink into the couch trying to overcome the sensitivity. When you try to shift, to sit up, Jeongguk hovers close to where he whispers, the smell of you reaching your nose.
“Keep your eyes closed,” he says against your lips, kissing you quickly before carefully lifting his body off you. His hands slide along your arms as he tenderly guides you. Before you can question, he interrupts by kissing you again. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got a couple things I want to set up.” As much as you hate to admit it, your heat drips at the way he whispers this to you intensifying the elation. How many times does he plan to make you cum?
The anticipation as to what he’s about to do. What he’s about to show you. Your ears tune into the sounds of the refrigerator opening- his giddy footsteps jogging to the bedroom where you hear the start of running water. Not just a spritz from the shower… the jacuzzi. Holy fuck. When you thought of steamy sex, you never once thought about the jacuzzi. Your hands squeeze into your thighs, the sensitivity between your legs starting to dim. Your heat clenching around nothing as you feel your nipples bud against the chilled air now that his warm body hasn’t been wrapped around yours for a bit. You never really ventured with sex when you were with Hoseok. It was just the typical quickies before and after work depending on the mood with the occasional use of a vibrator. And with Namjoon, it was a drunken blur. With Jimin… It was just spicy vanilla with addictive kisses, but good enough to get the job done and not hesitate for a second round if there ever was to be a second round.
But with Jeongguk. He’s about to give you a night you hope to relive every moment you see him. When he steps into the living room after a few minutes, you had been biting your lip unintentionally, and you feel him kneeling when his tepid hands place on your knees to then gliding up your exposed thighs. He loves teasing you with his lips, talking against them to keep you on your toes. “I’m ready.” He whispers enticingly. You peel your eyes open, him holding your hands while he helps you stand.
When you enter behind him to his bedroom, you notice a golden bowl filled with ice cubes and bubbles from the jacuzzi mingled with steam is shown from where the bathroom door is open. “I didn’t know to buy rose petals and candles-”
“Oh, fuck that!” You gasp, grabbing his face to kiss him again and again. The excitement is so tremendous, his strong arms adhere you to his frame before he peppers kisses along your neck, sucking the skin before placing your back on his bed. Lifting your hands in surrender, he can have you however he wants. However, he needs you. His eyes trail to the ice cubes where he places one in his mouth taking a few long sucks. When you imagined ice play, you never thought you would actually get to experience it.
He then takes the ice and places it on your chest, the cold nips your skin in a pleasurable way and when he slides the cube onto one nipple then to the other, your shaky breaths echo within his bedroom. He then lets the cube glide downwards once your nipples stay budded till he pauses at the beginning of your vulva. “Do you want me, baby?”
“Yes!” You’re breathless, toes curling against the bed sheets, the cold of the frozen water bringing a subtle pain. “Yes, baby, please. I want you.” He lets the ice touch along your slit, causing your hips to rise involuntarily while he rubs it quickly, coating your heat with the chill. Just enough to absorb your taste. As you watch him intensely, he returns the cube to his mouth sucking more until he places it back into the bowl.
Without preparation, his hands, few fingertips cold, wrap around your thighs, shifting you to his starving mouth as he breathes in your scent. “You smell so good, baby.” He growls, his hair tickling your skin before his tongue starts to flick between your folds once more, the chill feel sending vibrations of desire up and down your body while you moan his name even higher than his previous feast. “Oh, Guk! Oh, baby! Holy fuck, you feel so good! Ah!” Your screams encourage him to flick faster, up and down his tongue presses, lapping up your juices while your hands dig into the comforter. Eyes rolling back, one by one, each of his hands reach to rub your nipples, rubbing so fondly while he licks you, making your arousal build even stronger, so intense, you can hardly breathe. His head makes swift movements while he continues to taste you furiously, not taking one moment to breathe himself. You feel another orgasm building, and before you can stop him, your hips buck to the amplifying sensation as the glint of you shines on his chin. He arches an eyebrow proudly as you melt against the comforter- completely and utterly gasping.
But he’s not done with you yet and you don’t want him to be.
He crawls onto the bed to hover above you, interlacing his fingers with yours that happen to untangle from squeezing the comforter. Still holding your hands, he then moves backwards, helping you up to lead you to the bathroom where he shuts the door behind him. Wherever he goes, you will follow. And so far, you are not regretting one bit.
The steam is still rising from the jacuzzi and when he pins you to the tub, he leans over you to press a button, the jets in the jacuzzi awaken and the entire bath is bubbling for you to enjoy. You smell yourself on his mouth, and when he kisses you again, this time it’s so loving. It’s soft. So mesmerizing, you can’t concentrate on anything else as his hands cup your breasts, rubbing your nipples so affectionately that your heat gushes below you as you moan helplessly against his mouth.
“Get in.” He demands and this newfound dominance is going to make you pounce. You tilt your head when you meet his knowing eyes.
“You first, Cigs.” His nose scrunching into the sweetest smile, you dizzyingly watch him step into the jacuzzi, letting the water engulf his frame before you find yourself joining, putting a leg on either side of his hips while you straddle him. His hands massage up and down your back slowly to gripping your ass. How much more stunning can this man be? When he said he was going to make you forget about the past, he wasn’t fucking kidding. And you are very much okay with that.
“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers suddenly and your heart swells at his words. Not only did he mean it, but you can feel how much he means it. It doesn’t take long for you to bring your lips to his after holding his gaze, eventually moving a hand to find his erection, posing above his length before he enters you causing you to gasp against his kiss before your body starts to move to the rhythm of his hips as he thrusts into you. The water splashes amidst your moans, him hitting your g-spot with every stroke.
Lips still locked to yours, Jeongguk wraps his arms around you before lifting you enough to lay your back against the other end of the jacuzzi. Water covers your body while the jets massage your skin as Jeongguk lingers above you, entering you once more, your arms hug behind his shoulders while he thrusts. His body molds so perfectly with yours, and you never felt so alive. His large hand moves to cradle the back of your head, kissing you so deeply that your head is spinning. You never want this to end. How he moves so beautifully within you. It’s enthralling. He is enthralling.
When he releases into you, the water washes him away, and he sighs into your neck while you two try to catch a breath.
“By the way, it’s Dory.”
Confusion hits you at his sudden, breathless remark. “What?”
“You called me Nemo. It’s supposed to be Dory. She has short term memory loss.”
Shoving him playfully, you splash water at him while giggles echo, him tackling you just to place kisses to your blushing face. You can’t imagine ever losing him at this point. For once, you feel promise even though a promise has never been made.
-
“You’re smiling.” Monnie says suspiciously as you dazingly exit your room.
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“It certainly is not. It’s about time you appreciate your life here.”
“I do appreciate it here.”
“Finally… Is it the blonde guy?”
Your eyes widen because you completely forgot that your sister has no idea about Jeongguk. “No!” You say quickly. “No, it’s not him.”
“Okay,” Monnie says slowly, placing her hands on her hips. “Well, something is making you act like a teenager, so spill it.”
“I will at some point just… Just not right now.”
Monnie groans in annoyance. “I don’t know what I have to do to get you to talk to me, but at some point, I need to know your life story.”
“But you do know most of it. We’re sisters, Genius.”
“The boring stuff. I want to hear the dirt. I’m nosy.”
“You wouldn’t be my sister if you weren’t.” You tease. “I will tell you everything when I am ready. It’s… a lot… Okay?”
Reluctantly, her arms loosen in defeat as she rolls her eyes, “Fine,” she drones.
To be honest, you hope to confide in LenLen as well. It’s about time you open to the people who you do trust very much. For the time being though, it’s been a few days since you last saw Jeongguk and he has been messaging you nonstop since then. You felt so bruised down there, especially when you both had intercourse the next morning before you left to go to work. Both were naked and finished brushing teeth, and you wrapped your arms around him from behind. Your breasts smooshed to his back. He couldn’t resist you after that. He lifted you up to where your legs linked around his body. The sex started rough once you reached his bed sheets but ended gently driving your mind wild. His touch is like lightning and he nearly cummed back-to-back when he saw a wet spot under you from where you released post orgasm.
You do plan to see him again, and despite the endless thoughts of him, you figure a nice walk around downtown is a good plan. Downtown is super close to the city but has a smaller string of stores. It’s a different scenery, something to keep your mind from cluttering. It’s been a few months. You don’t go as often because that’s where Hoseok would take you on special dates. You figure with his popularity rising from his newly released book, he may not be downtown as often, so you feel it’s safe to tread.
Goodness though, the way Jeongguk’s touch has encapsulated you into another dimension, you can’t stop thinking about him. Or his lips. Or his smile. Or his laugh. Or his tattoos, how beautifully they decorate his skin. The way he holds you… He’s a dream you hope to always have. Hands cuddled into your jacket pockets, the sun shining brightly in the sky, twenty minutes into entering downtown where cars slowly drive by and the ‘open’ signs flash on every window, you decide to enter one of the familiar shops you happened to pass. Life gets even stranger because when you enter what looks to be a beauty boutique, from the colors and setting you recognize it as one you and Hoseok used to frequent way back when.
“She had me come double check inventory. Just make sure we get more of the eye shadow palettes in. At least, that’s what she requested me to say.” Eyebrows scrunching, you have heard this voice before. It’s oddly quiet other than a radio playing, and your eyes trail to an employee nodding and scribbling down whatever was said. Your heart nearly stops when you see none other than Jimin talking to the employee after shifting through what looks to be a pile of mail. You debate running out of the store, but you never got Jimin’s number, and so you make it clear you really didn’t use him even though you kinda did accidentally on purpose, you make the haste decision to let him notice you. He hasn’t done anything wrong.
He spins around after checking over a few things and looks up at you when you clear your throat. The moment his eyes register who he is seeing, his face lights up. “Oh my gosh! Hey there!” Jimin out stretches his arms, pulling you into such a sweet embrace when he reaches you, and you can’t help but let the relief loosen your tense frame. You melt into him.
“Hey,” you whisper.
“How are you?” He pulls away slightly to read your eyes.
“I’m good… I’m sorry I never thought to get your number.”
“No! No, don’t apologize. I should be sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m that kinda guy.”
“Oh God, no.” You chuckle. “You are just fine.”
Jimin presses his lips together in concentration, his thumb rubbing your shoulder. “My sister had me check up on her store which is why I’m here.” He motions to his surroundings. “With the stress of inventory, I could use a drink. Wanna join?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice.” You say.
-
When the strong liquid welcomes your tongue soothing your limbs once you swallow, Jimin eyes you as you twirl the liquid in the glass. The restaurant is nice and dimly lit and you are very thankful that you ran into him when you did. It makes you feel better about what happened between you two.
“I didn’t know you had a sister.” You say after a minute. Not that you ever cared to ask. “I didn’t know she owned a store.”
Jimin smiles, shrugging his shoulders. “Yeah, she’s a pain in my ass but I love her.”
“I relate on so many levels.” You chuckle, knowing Monnie would give you a look that could kill with an arched eyebrow in tow.
“Is… everything okay between us?” Jimin is curiously watching you, his expression still concerned about everything. At this point, you both have swapped numbers, promising to keep in touch. With how much your heart pines for Jeongguk, you know you won’t give in to anyone else.
“Of course, it is.” You promise. “I really mean it when I say I enjoyed your company. I just have a lot going on.”
“I understand.” He says meaningfully. “Want to talk about it?”
Considering your answer, you swallow briefly. “My ex… of three years cheated on me. Moved here a year ago.” You continue explaining how you ended up with your sister and how you were heartbroken about being stood up at the bar and how you ran into your ex and his best friend at the bar as well. All in one night. Adding that you are glad Jimin was equally attracted to you and how the distraction really helped overall.
“Holy shit, you slept with his best friend!? You are bad ass!”
“Oh God, I’m far from it.”
“Dude, no, that’s the best way to get back at a cheater. I’m telling you. Oh, and um,” Jimin leans closer to you with a confident look, his thick lips poised in a mischievous grin, “I don’t mind you using me for whatever you want. I’m honored I got to be your first after a year of abstinence.”
You giggle, smacking his shoulder playfully. “To be honest, I’m glad it was you too. You are so sweet. I mean it. If anything, I hope we can be friends.” You reach to squeeze his hand, him running his thumb across your knuckles.
“Agreed.”
“How long ago did you and your sister move here?” You wonder aloud. “I remember you said you had been here for a long while.”
“About two years, but I am roommates with Taehyung for now. He’s pretty head over heels for his girlfriend so I’ll probably be living on my own soon.”
“That’s not bad at all,” you encourage.
“Oh yeah, I’m sure I’ll love the space, but it gets lonely sometimes… My sister lives with her current boyfriend. I’m not the biggest fan, but he’s a successful novelist. Came out with a book literally like last week.”
Your eyebrows scrunch. What? “He’s… an author?”
“Yeah… I mean he’s a good writer don’t get me wrong, but her last boyfriend… She was with him forever and she did him so dirty. I felt bad for the kid.”
“Wait a minute…” Your head is spinning. This can’t be real. Calm down, y/n, it’s all just a coincidence. You are freaking out over nothing. “Wh-who was her ex-boyfriend if you don’t mind me asking?”
He opens his mouth to reply, but his phone, that has been laying right side up on the table starts to vibrate, a picture of a smiling woman shows. “Oh, that’s my sister.” He says, “Probably calling to make sure I took care of inventory. I should take this.”
“I- I have to go anyway,” you pretend to check your wrist when really stars are showing in your eyes, because that picture. Your mouth goes immediately dry. The shirt. The way her breasts are rounded beneath that shirt. Hoseok’s shirt. The shirt that went missing. The girl in the picture… she was wearing it. She was fucking wearing it.
“Hey, Min-a.” Jimin greets into the phone, waving goodbye to you, mouthing that he will text you as you dart away. Bile rises to your esophagus burning in its wake as you rush outside to the nearest trash can. Holy shit. You can’t breathe and you gasp between heaves. Everything is crashing down as you make the connection. It’s all coming together.
You never saw her face, but you saw her torso decorated with nice breasts and Hoseok’s shirt. Jeongguk mentioned that he was cheated on too and that she was with her new boyfriend who was going over a script with an actor… His stepbrother who is none other than Kim Seokjin. Hoseok has been writing for an actor who happens to be Kim Seokjin. Jimin personally knows Kim Seokjin. Hoseok is now out with a novel. She, Jimin’s sister, owns a store downtown, a store that happens to be one that you and Hoseok used to frequent because you loved their products, but when you left him, you never went back to that specific store. Meaning… he met her there. While you two were still together. But most of all, you remember how tense Jeongguk got at the mention of Jimin… Because Jeongguk knows Jimin. And then there was the confrontation Jeongguk almost had with the guy his ex-girlfriend cheated on him with who you can’t seem to comprehend it to be:
Hoseok.
This can’t be real. No, no this can’t be fucking real. You plead to the universe, wiping your lips with your sleeve as you try to keep the next bout of nausea suppressed.
Jeongguk dated Jimin’s sister who is now with Hoseok. The girl who he cheated on you with. You heard Jimin say her name. You can hardly collect your thoughts to think her name.
Min-a.
When the nausea starts to dull just for you to regain your composure. You run. You run home and you don’t stop until you burst through the door. Monnie and Yoongi are frantic when they see you, collapsing to the floor to catch your breath while tears stream down your face, sobbing as the pain shoots through your heart. Now, you have your answer. Nobody had to tell you. You accidentally stumbled upon it yourself. At this point, seeing the devastation pouring down your face, Monnie doesn’t give you a choice, she demands the truth. As Kenai rushes to sway his furry body against your legs to calm you, you confess and tell your sister and her boyfriend everything. From beginning to end- everything.
Finally, you let every emotion out, every secret released.
-
“So, you are saying that not only did you sleep with your ex’s best friend, Namjoon. You also hooked up with your ex’s new girl’s brother and her ex-boyfriend, too!?” Monnie connecting the dots while Yoongi’s mouth drops open in alarm. “Holy cannoli, if this isn’t the best revenge story ever!”
“I wasn’t looking for revenge!” You spew.
“Not with Jimin and Jeongguk you weren’t, but you have to admit, Namjoon was definitely revenge.”
“Well Namjoon, yes.” You agree with swollen eyes. “But the rest? I had absolutely no idea they were connected.” Your palm is plastered to your forehead, and though Jeongguk has messaged you and called twice, you’ve ignored everything. You don’t know how to approach the subject. Is his ex, Min-a, who is Hoseok’s girlfriend that he left you for, is she the reason Jeongguk kept walking away from you? Why he struggled at first giving into you? Have her and Hoseok been having problems? “No wonder why Hoseok was so… shocked.” You murmur. “I thought it was because I was kissing another guy in general, but it was his girlfriend’s brother.”
“Wowza.” Yoongi shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t comprehend it. What a small world.”
“Now it all makes sense. They all know each other.” You speak. “That’s why they’re all connected. Holy shit.”
“I definitely know Kim Seokjin. Not personally, but we’ve seen a few of his movies.” Yoongi says crossing his arms, gesturing his elbow in Monnie’s direction.
“Oh yeah, how can we not know Kim Seok-” Monnie notices Yoongi eyeballing her playfully with a quirked eyebrow and she clears her throat. “I agree. They all know each other. Jimin and Taehyung are best friends who know Kim Seokjin because he is best friends with Taehyung. Kim Seokjin also knows Jeongguk because they happen to be stepbrothers and Kim Seokjin knows Hoseok because of the movie script and novel Hoseok wrote. Also,” Monnie takes in a deep, dramatic breath. “Hoseok knows Jeongguk because Hoseok stole his girlfriend at the time, and Jeongguk knows Jimin because he dated Jimin’s sister. Am I forgetting anyone?”
“My head hurts.” You groan.
“Ah, Namjoon! He is best friends with Hoseok and since he was in the same vicinity as everyone I have mentioned, he must know everyone. I’m sure he is familiar with Jeongguk because Hoseok probably told him.”
“You’re good at this.” You blurt. “Maybe you should be a writer.”
“I’ve dabbled a time or two.” She grins, holding a finger in the air. “And that concludes your shit show of a love life.”
“Thanks.” You roll your eyes. Yet, you couldn’t concur more.
When conversation finishes with your sister and her boyfriend, you feed Kenai and give him squishy hugs and kisses while he pelts his tail at you in annoyance. You don’t care how much he prefers his food over you sometimes, you want to give him kissies and he shall accept them. There is somewhere you want to be. Need to be. You just hope he will be there.
Ordering a driver after freshening up and putting on a light amount of makeup, you throw on some tennis shoes and make your way outside. Previously you were always uncertain of the destination you were going to go. But this time, you know exactly where you are going. He will always be who you run to. Jeongguk. You haven’t stopped thinking about him since the day you met him. It has all gone by so fast, yet there is plenty of time to become more than just a thought every other second. But, neither of you can proceed until the truth is told.
The drive feels tantalizingly slow as your leg bounces profusely in the backseat until you arrive at the bookstore. You swish some mouth wash from the mini bottle in your purse as you rush to the elevator after tipping the driver, spitting it into a bush before elbowing the elevator button. Your temples beat to your increasing heart rate. Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you recount everything. It’s time to lay it all out. No matter how risky.
Customers standing by on the third floor watch you zip past, and you try to follow your memory to Jeongguk’s door and when your feet stop before it, you inhale and exhale deeply to calm your nerves. You knock, letting your hope rise because you cannot wait to see him despite the words that haven’t been said. You hear running footsteps- and when the door opens, your breath hitches at his indescribable beauty. You see the way relief falls with his shoulders as he springs forward to hug you- pulling you into his home while the door automatically shuts behind you.
You take the time to hold him, bundling your nose into his warm chest while his hand moves to soothe into your hair. “Hey,” he whispers, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “Where have you been? I’ve been super worried.”
“I know,” you murmur, squeezing him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry… Something happened.” You hear the rustle of paws running around the living room and you can’t help but smile at the reminder of the cats. Instantly your smile falls, however, because you know a serious conversation is going to take place. Shifting to step back, so you can see the entirety of his face, he tries to read your expression. He can tell something is wrong.
“I know how you know Jimin.” You can’t help it when tears brim, especially when you see Jeongguk’s body tense. As if he is trying to protect himself from unwanted memories. From heartbreak. He remains silent. “Min-a.” Your voice is hoarse when you say her name. Jeongguk’s hands move to slide into his hair while he sucks in his lips, squeezing his eyes shut the second he registers who you just named. There’s pain in his demeanor. Pain, you know all too well. “She’s who my ex-boyfriend left me for… Hoseok.”
Disbelief, the common reaction, is all over his expression while his lips part as if to speak, but he doesn’t. “Hoseok’s not an actor…” You murmur. “He’s a writer… He knows your stepbrother because he wrote a story he wants filmed with Seokjin as the lead.” You wet your lips. “I met Jimin the day I met you. And yes… I hooked up with him the night the bar opened, but I was so emotionally distraught, I needed something. Anything to distract me because I saw Hoseok there. And his best friend. And… I was devastated that you didn’t show up.” Your fingers touch to your lips as you try to keep your composure. “I had no idea who she was until today.” You admit. “Absolutely no idea.”
“I-” Jeongguk struggles to find the words, but he steps closer to you. “I think it will take time for the shock to settle, but…” He swallows. “I never meant to hurt you that night I didn’t show up.” You feel your tears panging hot trails onto your cheeks, Jeongguk moving to cup your face to swipe the tears away with his thumbs. “I was still battling with whether I should start over with Min-a. She kept trying to reach out to see me again, and I fell for it a few times, but the second I met you.” His forehead touches to yours while you take in his warmth. “The second I met you, there was no one else I could think about. Not even her. In a fucked-up sense, I wanted closure, too. I thought…” He pauses, pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. “I thought if I gave her a chance to explain, maybe that would be enough for me to move on, but… she never showed up each time she reached out. I knew I made a huge mistake what I did to you and when you were all I continued to think about I knew… I knew it was you I ultimately wanted to be with. I’m so sorry I broke your trust. I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
“No-!” You croak. “No, it’s okay. It’s really okay.” You plea through the tears. His eyes well with them too while you both try to get through this pain. Together. “You were hurting, too. We were hurt by the same people. It’s all so unbelievable, I can hardly understand it.”
“Well, if I haven’t learned anything at all, it’s that karma’s a bitch.” Jeongguk forces a chuckle, brushing a slow, warm kiss to your lips. “I won’t let him hurt you anymore.” You feel the tenderness in his caress. His promise. This time clothes make a trail on the floor to his bedroom where your bodies cling together while love is made through the night. In the end, you hope he is the man that will mend your heart the way you hope to mend his.
No more goodbyes, Cigs.
No more goodbyes.
And that will be your promise.
-
Seven months later…
“Breathe, y/n.” Jeon Jeongguk reminds you as you take in a prolonged, shaky breath. The buzzing of the needle starts to reach your skin while his gloved hands gently touch your limb. “I promise you it’s not that bad. Do you see my arm?”
“I know, Babe. But I have never done this before. Cut me some slack here.” You whine. Closing your eyes, a prick of pain starts to tingle against your skin from the sharp darts of pinches leaving traces of black ink in its wake.
“Good.” Jeongguk encourages. “See, I told you. It’s not that bad-”
He notices you wince when he gets to a different area of your wrist where he is permanently inking your ‘delicate skin’ as you have been referring. You knew you always wanted a tattoo, but it took your forever to figure out what to get. When the idea came to get an ink print of one of Kenai’s paws, you jumped to it. Jeongguk, of course, pretending to be jealous, made it clear that he better be the one who tattoos you. The shop is closed for the day, but Jeongguk being one of the main artists, he’s allowed to do tattoos on his own time, so it is just the two of you in the facility.
You are astonished at how quickly it goes by. The needle stings, but the pain is durable. It definitely is not as bad as you anticipated. It only takes Jeongguk 45 minutes to complete Kenai’s pawprint on the underside of your wrist. “Alright, take a look and tell me what you think and then I’ll apply the wrap.” He sets the needle onto the metal table next to the chair you have been sitting in, and he takes off his gloves.
The skin is red, with small dots of blood as you expected from where the needle etched the ink, but you are blown away by how brilliantly Jeongguk did with your first ever tattoo. “It’s… It’s perfect.” Your voice breaks from the tears brimming. “I love it.” You smile wide.
He chuckles, elated by your response. “I love you.” Preparing the sticky wrap, he carefully places it, afterwards pressing a kiss to your lips. “You did it.” His smile lights up your entire world as he proudly kisses you again.
“Only because of you. I wouldn’t have survived with anybody else.”
“Yes, you would have. It’s not that bad. I told you!” Jeongguk teases, waving his tatted arm in your line of vision while he points at it with his free hand.
“Fine,” you drone. “I would prefer that it be you because it’s more special. Kenai is the love of my life aside from you.” Jeongguk quirks an eyebrow. “What? He loves you, too!”
“Are you sure about that because he’s really gotten Flounder wrapped around his toe bean.”
“He’s got you, too.” You wink.
You moved in with Jeongguk a few weeks ago, adapting to the new life. So far, it’s gone rather well. He may not throw his clothes in the laundry basket, but at least he knows how to make up for it later. Wink wink. You inwardly giggle. Though LenLen was sad to see you leave, not only did Jeongguk get you a job at the bookstore, but you are the store manager which is nice because on breaks, you can just chill at home.
Home being with Jeongguk, Kenai, Flounder and Tetra. The crazy cat couple. Nothing gets better than that.
Jeongguk on the other hand has returned to tattooing. Something he is so talented at that its mind blowing. You are so grateful for how strong of a bond you two have formed since the first day you met. As far as Hoseok, him and Min-a have broken up by the whispers on the street, but you have found a way to forgive him. Especially when he reached out to apologize for how he wronged you and how none of it was your fault. How he should have known Min-a never truly wanted him, and that you are the sole reason his novel became a hit. The day he met you at the park. How you inspired it. You aren’t sure if he knows about Namjoon still, but you are glad he didn’t mention it if he does. You figure he’d tear the book to shreds at that point, but you thanked him for his apology and that you are happy with someone else. Very happy.
Jimin is a friend of you and Jeongguk to this day, but he does not speak about his sister in either presence considering her name is still an open wound. You and Jeongguk are still working on the forgiveness for her, too.
“It’s so amazing.” You awe about your tattoo once more. Jeongguk reaches to hold your other hand. “You’re so talented.”
He shrugs. “It’s a passion… Thank you for trusting me.”
Your lips pull into a gentle smile. “Always and forever.”
Leaning forward, you kiss him again and again and again and again. You love that you can trust that there will not be a goodbye from this glorious human being before you. He will always be your hello the second you wake up, the second you come home and every moment in between. “I love you,” he whispers breathless between kisses and if there weren’t cameras installed for security, you two would be making love right here in this seat.
“I love you too, Cigs.” You whisper against his mouth. “I love you so much.”
#jeon jeongguk#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts#jeongguk x reader#jeongguk x you#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fic#jungkook fanfiction#jeongguk smut#jungkook angst#jeongguk angst#ot7#jimin x reader#jimin x you#bts scenarios
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Look at me, look at me,
you lookin'?
ᥲ/ᥒ ꜝꜝ ✎ I wanted to thank you for 1.025 followers! It really means the world to me and I am shocked and so happy of how far and big this blog has gotten in just a couple months. Thanks to every single one of you, I love you all!!! Bigggg big BIG hugs and smooches to all of you MWAH MWAH!!!
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; friends with benefits trope with them.
ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; various Blue lock men/jjk men x fem!reader
TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI. unprotected intercourse. fingering. nicknames(pretty, princess, pretty girl, baby). size kink(?). mating press. doggy. oral(fem!receiving). dirty talk.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+[proplayers]!
TRUE FRIENDS
when two preexisting friends decide to start having sex.
It was a give and take between you both, as true friends would. One hand washes the other, right?
"So fucking tight." His grunts and your moans filled the room beside the slapping of naked skin. Your moans turned higher in volume as the pistoning of his hips increased, your legs sore from being folded in half for what seemed to be an eternity.
"You feel that?" His hand pushed down onto the pit of your stomach, pornographic mewl rushing past your lips at the pressure, his tip kissing your cervix "Right in your tummy. Feels good?" Your frantic nod caused the man's heart to swell with pride.
"That's what friends are for."
ISAGI. Loki. KUNIGAMI. Ness. Snuffy. Ur fav
Suguru. Yuji. TODO. Inumaki. Ur fav
NETWORK OPPORTUNISM
when two people agree to serve as “backups” for each other in situations where neither of them can find another partner for the evening.
"That asshole couldn't give it to you anyway." Your moans got muffled by the pillow your head was buried in, ass in the air as his hips moved in sync to yours, hand harshly ripping the flesh of your back, red handprint on your rear. "But that's alright," His movements showed no sign of stopping, motioning you to hold the headboard for stability. "Best friend ‘s here to save your day."
The movements of his hips increased, curses falling from his lips. "There’s nothing better than this." His hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you up against his chest, his breath tickling your neck. "What do you say, princess?"
A strangled mewl left your lips at the new angle, feeling him impossibly deeper in you, mind feeling hazy. "Y-yes!" You felt his chuckle against your neck, goosebumps visible on your skin.
"That's right."
OLIVER. SAE. Bachira. Nagi. Otoya. Ur fav
SATORU. Shiu. Hiromi. Hakari. Ur fav
SUCCESSFUL TRANSITION IN
when someone intentionally uses a FWB as a stepping-stone into a romantic relationship.
Your hands tangled into his hair as his head buried between your thighs, his hands on either side of them, holding you firmly in place. "Can't get enough of this perfect pussy." He looked up at you, mouth and chin glistening in your juices, cheeky grin on his lips.
His fingers slide through your folds, his breathing ghosting over your aching heat. "So pretty. All mine, my pretty girl." His mouth was back on your cunt, sloppily making out with your lips, whining into your pussy, hips subconsciously buckling against the sheets.
Your thighs locked around his head as you felt your orgasm washing over you, your angelic moans still reaching his covered ears, and he swore, he felt like he was in heaven.
His first step did indeed lead him to cloud nine.
Noa. RIN. BAROU. Chigiri. Sendo. Ur fav
Yuuta. CHOSO. MEGUMI. Nanami. Ur fav
TRANSITION OUT
when romantic partners decide to maintain a sexual relationship after a breakup.
"Pussy s' made for me." You bit your lip as his fingers deliciously curled up inside of you, teasingly caressing your g-spot. Your breathing turned erratic as his wrist speed up, leaning to your ear, his hot breath tickled your neck. "Still as good as in the good. Old. Days." With each word that rolled from his tongue, he accompanied sharp thrusts of his fingers.
"How about we try it again, hm?" Your eyebrows furrowed while sinful sounds escaped your lips, a chuckle erupting from his throat. "I'm just playing." His thumb attached to your sensitive bud, causing you to see stars, nearing your release. His head hung in your neck, attacking it with his lips, sucking marks onto it.
You let a mewl escape you at that, the familiar but also uncanny feeling of his lips against your tender skin bringing you closer to the edge.
"Can't hide this from your new plaything, you know that, right?"
KAISER. SHIDOU. Karasu. Chris. Ur fav
TOJI. Mahito. Sukuna. Naoya. Ur fav
©︎𝐊-𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐒. all rights reserved. Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!
#◛⑅·˚ ᵂᴼᴿᴷ#♡˳ᴮᴸᴸᴷ#blue lock smut#jjk smut#blue lock x you#bllk smut#blue lock#shidou smut#itoshi sae smut#itoshi smut#itoshi rin smut#isagi smut#michael kaiser smut#bllk kunigami#kunigami smut#barou smut#alexis ness smut#bachira smut#chigiri smut#noel noa smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#toji smut#gojo smut#geto smut#megumi smut#jjk headcanons#jujutsu geto#fushiguro toji#jjk gojo
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