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builtbybrokenbells · 5 months

Text

CAPITAL VICES | SLOTH

Sloth: an excessive laziness or the failure to act and utilize one’s talents

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 16k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face fucking, masturbation (f!receiving), mentions of female masturbation, mentions of sex toys, light bondage play, orgasm denial, impact play, sir kink, praise, degradation, name calling, dom/sub, bratty sub, choking, spanking, lots of dirty talk, mentions of blood, (this is just filthy for the most part tbh), crying, mentions of addiction, drinking, swearing, fluff, sorry if i miss any!!

Merry Christmas from me to you (if ya celebrate)! I sincerely hope you like this as much as I liked writing it. As always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes! (Very lightly edited) also, if you haven’t yet, check out the playlist i made linked on the Masterlist! Much love 🫶🏻

You cut the power to the element of your stove, giving the contents of the frying pan one last stir before moving it to the side. The sun outside was shining in through the windows, the golden rays powerful as a last ditch attempt to lighten the land before setting for the night. You took a sip from your wine glass as you grabbed the pot of pasta noodles and brought them to the sink to strain. Music was drifting through the air, and the candle burning on the countertop offset the strong smell of the pasta sauce you had just finished cooking. Your hair was still damp from your shower, and light makeup was dusted on your face. You were dressed comfortably, but still took the time to pick out a nice outfit for the occasion. All of the classic telltale signs of romance was lingering in the atmosphere, yet you still had yet to come to terms with the fact.

You were preparing for a date, even if you refused to admit to it.

You brought the pot back to the stove, adding the pasta to your sauce and combining the two. Just as you finished washing your hands to rid yourself from the mess you made, your doorbell rang. With a small sigh of approval, you looked over your work before running to answer the door. You nervously combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to contain your excitement as you flipped the lock and twisted the knob to reveal the body waiting on the other side. Jake stood with a smile on his lips, a bag slung over his shoulder, and a seemingly expensive bottle of wine held in his hand.

“Hi,” You breathed, stepping aside to allow him entry. It had been a few days since seeing him, and you hated to admit to the fact that you had genuinely missed him. The calls and texts were still plentiful, yet his presence in your home was more appreciated than you realized.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He chuckled at your expression, feeling the same way you were feeling. Being apart from you was similar to a withdrawal from substance, yet a million times more powerful. His bed felt so empty that sometimes, he thought that sleeping on the couch would be a better way to spend the night. “I brought wine. I thought if I brought flowers, you might punch me.”

“Good call.” You agreed, taking it from his hand so he could balance the rest of his belongings with ease. “You didn’t have to bring anything, you know.”

“I wanted to.” He said, following you as you walked back to the kitchen. “It’s our first dinner together. It’s a momentous occasion.” You rolled your eyes, placing the bottle next to the one you had already opened in the fridge.

“I told you not to make a big deal out of it. I was cooking already; you’re not special.” You closed the door to the refrigerator and straightened up. As soon as you did, you felt a pair of hands snake around your waist. You hated that your heart sped in reaction to the touch, and you what you hated even more was that you melted into the feeling, leaning back into him and closing your eyes to enjoy the moment.

“Not special?” He hummed, his fingers inching under your shirt and settling on the soft skin just below the fabric. “Don’t hurt my feelings, angel.”

“You’ll survive.” You assured him, turning around to face him. He caught your eye, giving you a smile. “Thanks for coming.” You felt guilty about your harshness, and upon catching sight of his face, your tough exterior seemed to melt away. He was used to your brashness, and it never seemed to phase him. When you turned to face him, his face held so much adoration that it almost seemed like you never insulted him at all.

“Thanks for inviting me.” He leaned down, capturing you in a small kiss. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer in hopes of making up for the days of missing him. You were too stubborn to hug him, feeling that the innocent intimacy was too much, so you only allowed it when his lips were locked with your own. It was a cheat, your way of breaking your own rules, but he abided without argument. When he pulled away, he held you there for a moment, taking a long look over your face in hopes of familiarizing himself with your features again. Although, he did not have to try very hard; the picture of your face was the only thing his mind had been able to formulate since the last time he saw you.

Casual was becoming harder and harder with every day that passed, but neither of you felt the need to address it. You thought that by ignoring the growing feelings, they would die in the same place they blossomed. Your laziness in regards to discussing your relationship had not yet caused an issue, yet the longer you let it go, the more dangerous it became.

“You look nice.” You said, straightening out the collar of his shirt. “Didn’t need to dress up for me.”

“Maybe I wanted to,” he offered, raising a gentle hand to your cheek. His thumb drifted across the smooth skin, sending goosebumps across your whole body. Now that your past was out in the air and he knew more about you than you ever wanted him to, your comfortability had grown immeasurably stronger. Every time he touched you, he seemed to exude even more caution. It was his inconspicuous way of saying he would never touch you in any way other than loving, and you would have chastised him for it if you didn’t like it so much. His gentle hand was the reason you trusted him as much as you did, and it had been so long since you felt a touch so calming that you could not seem to turn him away. “Ever think of that?”

“I did, but I was hoping I wasn’t right.” You teased, feeling your walls of fear slowly crumbling to the ground the longer he looked into your eyes.

“Too bad.” He shrugged, his sympathy barely existing.

“You hungry?” You asked, changing topics so you did not have to focus on his need to impress you.

“Yeah,” he nodded, his eyes flickering to the stove. “Food looks fantastic, but what would you say if I told you that I have something even better in mind?” He raised an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna discredit all of my hard work just for sex?” You teased, but you weren’t completely disinterested in his idea.

“You’re right, how rude of me.” He chuckled. “Let’s eat, sweetheart.” He leaned down, giving you another quick kiss before parting from you. You took to the stove, grabbing the plates you had set out before he arrived. “Anything I can help with?” He watched as you prepared the food for both of you.

“You can sit at the table so you’re not in my way?” You offered, giving him a small smile as you looked back over your shoulder.

“My apologies; didn’t realize how strict your kitchen rules were.” He laughed, but adhered to your request and took a seat at the table. Within a few moments, you brought both plates over and sat them down in front of your respective seats. Then, you filled up a second wine glass and returned back to the table. You placed one in front of him before taking a seat yourself. “Would it be too much to say that I missed you?” He asked, now especially careful to tread lightly when it came to your boundaries. After your confessional in his car the night you met his brothers, he was even more terrified of saying or doing the wrong thing and in turn, driving you away. Although denial was your most favourite pastime, you failed to see that being so fearful of losing each other was the furthest thing from casual that you could get.

“I’ll allow it, but only because I missed you too.” You chuckled, sipping at your wine.

“This is delicious, by the way.” He noted.

“Thanks. You’ve been too busy to come and see me, so I figured I had to impress you to make sure you’re not forgetting about me.” You teased.

“Like I said before, angel, forgetting you has never been my intent. In truth, it’s never really been an option.” He assured you, catching your eye so you could see the sincerity in his gaze.

“Would it be selfish of me to say that I’m glad for that?” You phrased your question similar to how he asked you his own just minutes before.

“No,” he shook his head “I’d feel the same if it were the other way around.” You smiled at his words, burying your face in your wine glass to hide the rosiness of your cheeks. “And I wasn’t too busy for you; life just gets crazy sometimes.”

“I know, I’m only teasing.” You promised. “How’s work going?”

“Good, we just finished up writing the last touches on the album. Think next week we’re going to start recording.”

“Exciting.” You hummed. “I think maybe it’s time I listened to some of your music, since we’re friends and all.” You laughed nervously, embarrassed that you’d known him for weeks and had yet to hear him play. It was your way of keeping the barrier between you, ensuring that your lives didn’t intertwine too delicately, but it was long overdue. You were putting off the inevitable, and listening to a song he wrote did not equate to marriage, even if you previously thought so.

“Whenever you want.” He smiled. He didn’t want to push it on you, and he was more than willing to wait until you were ready. As much as he’d like to play all day for you, he would only enjoy it if you were enjoying it, too. “How’s work for you?”

“Oh, the same.” You shrugged. “Did another wedding, a maternity, and a first birthday party.” You listed. “I wasn’t going to do the birthday party, but babies are just too cute to refuse, especially when they get their hands on their little birthday cake.” You laughed. He cocked his head to the side ever so slightly, watching you with curiosity. He didn't peg you for someone to go crazy over babies, yet he found it oddly fitting. “What?” You asked, noticing his change in expression. “I like kids, but it doesn’t mean I want any.”

“Never said there was anything wrong with it,” he defended “just took me by surprise is all.” You shifted in your seat, nervous that he was reading too much into the simple statement. “I’d like to see some of your work, if you’re ever willing.”

“Maybe.” You offered, both of you knowing that it was unlikely that you ever would. The rest of the meal was shared in silence, but it was not uncomfortable for either of you. You didn’t know how to carry on the conversation, and he was just happy to be with you. When you were both finished eating, you cleared the table and placed the dirty dishes in the sink. Before you could turn around, you felt the same familiar pair of hands on your hips, jumping at the suddenness of his actions. He leaned down, pressing his lips into the skin just below your ear with great caution. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling, and your eyes fluttered closed at the bliss that came along with it.

“Thank you.” He whispered, his lips ghosting over any available inch of you.

“You’re welcome.” You responded, resting your hands over his which he had slid to your stomach. He pulled you in to him a little further, another subtle way of hugging you without making it into a grand show of affection.

“Interested in dessert, by any chance?” He purred, his teeth sinking into your earlobe. You couldn’t help but smile at him, knowing that dinner was nothing short of torture to him after going so long without you.

“Can’t wait to get me in bed?” You teased, but your body was betraying you. As his fingers danced over your skin, you let out a shaky breath. You missed him just as much as he missed you, and you were eager to get his clothes off, too.

“I’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?” His fingers dipped below the waistband of your leggings, settling on the elastic of your underwear but advancing no further until you gave him permission.

“I think you can wait a little longer,” you did not believe that either of you could, yet you couldn’t help but try your best to piss him off. “I have to do the dishes, Jacob.” There was something so compelling about the fire in his eye when you misbehaved, and you were searching for it like a lost child looking for a place to call home.

“I don’t think I can, angel.” His fingers slipped even further down, now resting contently underneath all layers of clothing. “I’ve been thinking about bending you over this countertop all fucking week.” He said, leaning forward slightly to lock you in place. You tried your best to cover it, but your breath hitched in your throat at the thought of the vulgarity. You couldn’t see him, but you knew there was a smirk on his lips from the reaction. “From the sound of it, you have been, too.” Your eyes fluttered closed, your mind focusing on the feeling of his fingers so close to your heat. You were aching for relief, and he’d barely even touched you. Your body needed him so desperately that not even you could comprehend it. “Right?” He pressed further, hoping for a verbal response.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, hoping he would continue on instead of teasing you. In truth, what he guessed did not even come close to the truth of how much you’d been thinking of him. It was more than just a passing thought of sex in the kitchen, or a night spent tangled up in each other. Every time you let your mind wander, it ended up in a grotesque picture of him taking you as he pleased, and it was not limited to the kitchen. Every time your eyes fell upon a surface in your house, you could picture the two of you together, cementing memories of sin until the end of time. He hadn’t left your mind once since the last time you were in his company, and dinner was a boring formality to bridge the gap between reuiniting and having him in every way you dreamed of in the passing days.

Your need for him was filthy, concupiscent and lacking any moral will. The devil had completely overtaken you, and you were so blind to his evil that you tricked yourself into believing you were happy to be chosen by him.

“Tell me how much you missed me, angel.” He ordered, finally moving his middle finger to your cunt. The touch was gentle, barely noticeable, yet it had enough strength to bring you to your knees. He ran the digit through your pooling arousal, trailing it up to your clit where he began tracing small, featherlight circles. His order was partially because he wanted to make you suffer, knowing that after so many days, it would be difficult for you to form any thoughts while he was touching you. A bigger part of him needed to hear it, because the desire to know he was needed by you was suffocating him.

“So much, Jake.” You whimpered, praying to a god that you were not even sure existed. If there was anything holy in the world, you were sure it would have stricken down any amount of evil, especially one as large as Jake possessed. Then again, you feared that he had too much power for any entity to control, feeding your fear of his devilish nature even further. “I thought about this every night.”

“You poor little thing,” he crooned, sympathy barely existing within him. “All alone with nobody here to take care of you.” His touch grew stronger, making your legs quiver underneath the weight of your body. “What did you do without me here?” His question, although seemingly simple, was opening the door to a lifetime of humiliation. He wanted to hear every dirty thing you got up to with only a picture of him in your mind. “I want to hear all about it, angel.” You could feel his erection pressing into your ass, noticing him growing more needy by the second.

As much as he loved to pretend he was in charge, he could never seem to harness enough strength to control his need for you.

Even if you didn’t know it, you were the sole holder of the power; you held the reins, and he was willing to go to the ends of the earth to please you.

“I bet you would.” You huffed, trying your best not to succumb to the pleasure his curious fingers were granting you. You lowered your shaking hands into the scalding water, feeling defeat fill you as you realized that not even the burn of the heat could overpower the godless man who was so keen on making you suffer. “I’m a little busy at the moment, though.”

“I would, and I will.” He corrected, unwilling to take any argument from you. “You can do your dishes, but I’m going to have my fun, sweetheart. You should know better by now.”

“I should,” you muttered, trying not to give in to the temptation of him. It was so much more fun to tease him, and you had committed yourself to the task since the very beginning. “Are you trying to show off? Upset that I’d rather do the dishes than have sex with you?” He’d grown so used to your antics that the insult did not even phase him. Instead, he let out a low chuckle as he pulled down the waistband of your pants with his free hand, settling it just below your ass.

“I don’t think you’re telling the truth, baby.” He called your bluff, his middle finger still focused intently on your clit. “She’s telling me everything I need to know.” A rush of emotion settled in the pit of your stomach, still finding his obscenity shocking, even if it was incredibly hot. “Now, answer the fucking question.” His tone was sharp, but not malicious. Yet, anyway. You knew if you played his game, you would reap the rewards. If you did what you so badly wanted to and mocked his authority, the consequences would be dire. You bit down on your lip, holding back a whimper begging to escape as you placed a clean plate on the rack to dry. The lack of clothing allowed for more freedom, and he was using it to his advantage. “Not talking tonight?” He questioned. “That’s new for you.”

“I was always told that if I didn’t have anything nice to say, I shouldn’t say anything at all.” You said through gritted teeth, your persistence prying another laugh from him.

“You’re such a brat, sometimes.” He let out a disapproving tsk, leaning in closer so his lips were resting on your ear. “Am I going to have to do all of the talking for you?” Instead of responding, you continued to wash the silverware as if you were completely alone in the home and the touch of his hand was not driving you to the brink of insanity. “Are you embarrassed, angel? Ashamed of all of the dirty things you did while wishing I was here with you?” You let out a scoff, but did not feed into his tyrant any further. “What was it, sweetheart? What did you use when you couldn’t get me out of your head? Your fingers?” He asked, his breath warm on your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Did you lay in bed, nestled between all of those pillows?” His tone grew stronger with every word he spoke, his own desperation clear despite his commitment to the facade. “You probably put some music on, just something to listen to while you closed your eyes and pretended it was my hands touching you, instead.” His voice was low, laced with desire at the thought of your fingers dancing through your arousal caused by the memory of him. “Classic, gets the job done, but I don't think that’s what you got up to.” He debated his own words, smiling ever so slightly against you.

His intent was to drive you mad, and if there was one thing you knew about Jake, it was that he would die before he would ever surrender.

“Or maybe you went digging around in that box underneath your bed,” he theorized “you know, the one you only let me bring out when you’re really feeling adventurous.” He reminded you as if you did not know exactly which box he was speaking of. “Is it because you’d rather use it when you’re alone? Is it just there to do all of the work when I can’t be here to do it myself?” Your breath caught in your throat as his lips landed on the sensitive skin just under your ear. “That sounds more like it…” he trailed off, losing himself in the picture of a vibrator clutched in your hand and his name woven so delicately on your lips. “I bet you start slow, wanting to draw it out as long as possible to pass the time until I can come over, but you get so needy so quickly. I know that vibrator spends most of its time on the highest setting, but you’re such a little whore that you just can’t get enough and it still doesn’t do it for you.”

You could not hide the moan that fought its way to the surface, breaking through the air and effectively proving his point. You wanted him more than even he knew, but you were just too damn stubborn to admit it.

“Or do you spend your time in the shower, the hot water keeping you warm and the detachable shower head doing more than that little toy could ever handle?” He slowly sunk to his knees, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting you again. “I notice, sweetheart, and I know you put that there for a reason.” Just before he was eye-level with your cunt, with a bit of force, he pushed your top half down towards the counter. “So what is it? How have you been taking care of yourself without me here to help?” You were so lost in the moment that you barely registered his question, already thinking of the euphoria he would give you with help from the unholy spirit that graced his tongue. “Or was it all three?” He asked, his tone telling you that the revelation brought him to a moment of enlightenment. “You tried it all, but you just couldn’t seem to find anything that could replace me. Does that sound right to you?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, finally giving in to his power. It was too strong to resist, and you were surprised you’d made it so far.

“Yes, what?” He growled, happy to hear you speak, yet displeased with the time it took for you to answer.

“Yes, sir.” You let out a shaky breath. “I tried it all, but it didn’t even come close to how good you make me feel.”

“Now you want to be good for me, hmm?” He taunted, knowing how badly you wanted him. “I know you can listen, angel. I don’t know why you try so hard to be so disrespectful.”

“M’sorry, Jake.” You pleaded, almost regretful for your standoffish remarks. You were willing to give him anything he wanted in hopes he would be kind to you.

“You’re not sorry, sweetheart.” He said, shaking his head. “If you want to do the dishes so bad, do them, but you better not stop or I will, too. And you better not cum until I say you can.” You gave a huff of annoyance, knowing that between your position and the things he was waiting to do to you, focusing on anything other than him would be nearly impossible. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You muttered, mildly irritated yet understanding that the consequences were solely because of your own actions.

“Good,” he said, nearly vibrating with excitement. From the minute he walked in the door, he’d been waiting to see you like this, and now that he had you just how he wanted you, he could not wait any longer. “Better get started, baby. Clocks ticking.” He reminded, pulling your leggings down just a little further. You bit your tongue, holding back any snide remarks as you continued on with your task. As soon as he noticed your hands moving, he sprung to action.

As soon as his tongue connected with your core, the bland household chore was the very last thing on your mind. The heat of his mouth and the precision of his movements made it nearly impossible to thing of anything else. He started slow, running his tongue through you to savour every bit of arousal that he’d been causing you. You let out a low groan, trying your best to keep your hands steady in the water as he tried his best to completely overtake your mind with pleasure. The two of you had been caught in a nasty battle of obstinacy since the very first moment you met, and it bled into every single interaction the two of you had together. He was desperate to prove a point, and you were eager to shoot him down.

“Fuck,” you hissed, your fingers tightening around the wine glass clutched in your hand as a sharp wave of pleasure took over. You used your other hand to support your weight on the counter, your legs already weak and the rest of your body beginning to feel just the same.

His tongue circled your clit, slowly but steadily tightening the knot in your belly. The pit of your stomach was ablaze with a fire that burned just for him, and you knew that he did not have to work very hard to send you over the edge. The days spent apart from him were equal to torture, and you had no idea how you survived before he showed up in your life and graced you with his touch.

Grace was a kind word, and nothing about his actions were graceful, nor were they anything close to kind. He was pure evil that took form in a human being, and every day that passed you were more convinced that you had fallen in lust with the devil reincarnate. He put up a great facade, always making you feel like his intent was coated with love and care, but he was a selfish being who just to happened to unintentionally form a soft spot for you. The devil knows no mercy, but somehow in the time the two of you spent together, it was a trait he had learned to accept.

Now, the devil still knows no mercy, except when it comes to you.

He loved to please himself, but over time, he had to face the harrowing reality that his survival was now dependent on your need for him above anything else. Although neither of you seemed able to shake the fear of connection, the situation you found yourselves in was not as simple or transparent as it once was. Casual sex was long gone, replaced with constant companionship disguised as a careless relationship with no strings attached. Your lives were intricately tied together, and you searched for each other even when you did not realize you were doing so. All you had feared seemed to come true, but you enjoyed Jake’s presence so much that you were yet to confront the truth.

Love surrounded you with every step you took. It was in the second dirty coffee cup that so often took post in your kitchen sink. It was in your dresser drawers, where Jake’s t-shirts lived on occasion when he forgot them, and especially when he neglected to bring them back to his own apartment upon realizing they were still at your house. It was in the longing glances at your phone screen, wondering when he would reply or if you would have to double text, and it was in the phone calls that lasted hours too long when the conversation started with a simple question that could be answered in seconds. It was right there in the room with you now, lingering at the dinner table after your shared meal and blatant in his desperation, his need for you so intense that he could not even wait until you finished cleaning. Although he loved to frame it as another way to torture you, the truth was that he knew he could not wait another second to have you. The position you found yourselves in was not because of his need to tease you, but because he thought he might succumb to death without you.

Love was everywhere, but two people who were so selfishly concerned with their own needs could not possibly fall without failing. Despite the emotion being spoken into every action, the two of you did not know how to love anymore, nor were you willing to try.

As said best by Dio: between the velvet lies, there’s a truth that’s hard as steel.

The lies the two of you were telling yourselves were so smooth and sweet that it made it so easy to ignore the obvious. When the comfort of your avoidance was no longer there to protect you, the blow from the truth would be so strong that it would take your life in an instant.

And just like that, the fourth capital vice took over, leaving your life bleeding with nothing but sinful energy and godless morals. Sloth had become you, only growing stronger as you showcased laziness in regards to your growing feelings. You thought that the longer you avoided the topic, the easier it would be to navigate it, yet as time passed, it only pushed you further into the devils hold. But, the slothful nature of your neglect was not even the worst infraction of your sin; the more pressing act had nothing to do with your lack of discussion of the obvious, but everything to do with your failure to utilize your own talent.

You were fantastic at loving Jake, and he was fantastic at loving you, yet neither of you harnessed the strength and instead pretended like love was your biggest weakness. The two of you loved each other so well that it was astounding, and everyone looking in on your relationship would never question the strength in which you felt or cared for each other. The two of you loved each other better than anyone ever had, but it was easier to pretend you didn’t. So, that’s what you did: you floated through life delicately intertwined with each other, yet refused to acknowledge that your feelings went any further than sexual. It was a dangerous little game, but the thrill was so good that it didn’t matter to you.

You were brough back to reality when a rush of pleasure took over, so strong that the glass in your hand slipped and plummeted back into the sink full of water. You could feel him smiling against you, happy his affect on you was so powerful. Instead of tantalizing you for it, he made it a point to work harder, his tongue moving so precisely that you did not even have the luxury of a single second to recover.

“Jake,” you gasped, your hands shaking as you tried to bargain with him. “I can’t do this.” You knew he was unlikely to give in, but you thought it was worth a try. Instead of a heeding your warning, he hummed against you and if it were even possible, seemed to put even more effort into pleasing you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you let out a shaky breath, now completely ignoring the dirty dishes still sitting in the sink.

He let you enjoy it for a moment, but when he did not hear any progress being made on the unimportant chore, he pulled back from you, slipping his thumb to your clit. “What? You don’t care about the dishes, now?” You could hear the smirk in his voice, but you had no energy to chastise him for his actions. The only thing you were focused on was the burning in your belly that was growing more rapidly than you could possibly imagine.

“I-please, Jake.” You pleaded, insanity knocking on the door and begging to invade your mind.

“Please, what? What do you want, angel?” His thumb grew heavier, his intent to punish you for your disobedience. Your legs quivered and your knees bucked in response to the change. You didn’t know what you wanted from him; stopping was worse than certain death, but you knew you could not continue on with what he was asking of you. “Answer me.” His tone was heavy, authority dripping from his words.

“I can’t do this anymore. I need to cum. I need you.” You gasped, another wave of pleasure shooting through you. There were tears in your eyes, and you were desperate for a release. You were terrified of disobeying him because you knew he would not be likely to give you what you wanted if you did, but you could not continue on with daily tasks as if he was not bestowing you with the utmost of evil with his tongue.

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you decided to be a brat.” His was less than sympathetic, even if he did wish to fuck your over the counter without any further delays. The only thing he loved more than fucking you was watching you quiver under his touch. “So stubborn that you couldn’t even tell me what you got up to while I was gone. I don’t think it’s fair that I have to answer my own questions, sweetheart. Do you?”

“N-no,” you whimpered, barely keeping yourself upright any more. Your body had been infiltrated with every single bit of evil he held in his own, and you no longer belonged to yourself. You were fully at his disposal, willing to tell him whatever he wanted and to do whatever he asked with hopes for a shred of kindness.

“Right,” he crooned, happy that you had both reached the same conclusion. “So you’re going to do as I fucking say, and I don’t want to hear another word from you.” His voice was strong and his words were harsh, yet all it did was turn you on further. You knew that Jake could speak nothing but insults in your direction and you would fall at his feet in response. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You choked out the words amidst a moan, knowing that if he continued on at the same pace, you would never be able to stop yourself from reaching an orgasm. With that, he returned his mouth to you, driving you even closer to the edge.

Your vision was blurred with amount pleasure he was bestowing upon you, and your limbs were separate from your mind, yet somehow you managed to continue on washing the last few dishes left in the sink. Despite your growing desperation, you knew Jake well enough to know that it was the only way to get what you wanted. Your fingers barely clasped around the cutlery, but slowly you managed to dwindle the pile down to only a single plate. With relief in sight but just out of reach, you clasped the dish tightly in your hand as you wiped it clean. As you set it in the dish rack, a cry of triumph left your lips. Your orgasm was threatening you further with every second that passed, and in a lapse of judgement, you figured you would not inform him of your intentions to climax until it was too late.

You gripped at the edge of the counter so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Your eyes were crossed with stars and not even a hint of a moan was stuck in your throat. You were too stunned by the pleasure to do anything other than enjoy it, and you feared if your tried to say something, he would catch on to your game with little mercy for you. You weren’t sure if you could handle him pulling away, but you failed to realize that Jake was the last person in the world you could lie to.

A particularly sharp intake of breath told him all he needed to know, and a flood of anger filled him. Instead of letting you know that he caught on to your game, he decided to push you until the very last second. He suctioned his lips around your clit, focusing solely on getting you to the absolute brink of a climax. An involuntary moan filled the air, and you felt the pressure in your belly reach the point of no return. As you braced yourself for the storm waiting to come, suddenly, it stopped.

“No, Jake, please!” The words tore through your chest like a bullet, and the shame that normally came from begging him no longer existed.

“Did you think you’d get away with that?” He chuckled, making a move to stand. Once he was steady on his feet, you turned your head to look up at him, your eyes showing utter devastation at the loss of contact. “I told you not to cum unless I said so, angel. Seems like you still haven’t learned how to listen to me.”

“Jake, please, I’m sorry.” You said, pushing yourself up off the counter. His eyes drifted towards the sink, pleased that you’d managed to do at least one thing he’d asked of you.

“You’re not sorry, sweetheart.” He shook his head, helping you stand upright to join him. Your eyes studied his face, your heart yearning for him to move closer. He looked so angelic in the lowlight of the kitchen, but you knew it was untrue. He was not an angel, nor was he anything holy. The devil was in the details, and the details were something you’d grown incredibly aware of in the time you’d known him. Your arousal was glistening on his lips, which were so soft and inviting. There was a malicious glint in his eye, showcasing his displeasure with your actions, and the curl of his lips portrayed his anger as clear as day.

He was beautiful, and that much was true, but it was not beauty that would be splayed across a portrait hung on a church wall or carefully burned into stained glass; it was the kind of devastating beauty that the bible warns you about, once that’s so inviting and alluring but deadly once it’s within reach.

His hellish nature had become incredibly apparent, and although it was enough to scare the world away, it only seemed to pull you in further.

Perhaps it was not his charm that was drawing you in, but rather your likeness. You were not impressed by his otherworldly charm, but because you had a streak of evil coursing through your veins, too.

“If you’ve forgotten how to listen, maybe I’ve forgotten how to be nice.” He spoke slow, making sure every word hit you with an impact.

“As if you were ever nice in the first place.” You rolled your eyes, irritated and angry at him for denying you the pleasure. He cocked his head to the side, bringing his hand to your face and clasping his fingers around your chin in a tight hold. He guided your head upwards so you could not avoid looking him in the eyes.

“I think you know all about how nice I can be.” He corrected, his tone so dangerously soft that it made your skin crawl. “And you know that I’m only nice when it’s deserved. Do you think you deserve it, angel?” You watched him with a soft gaze, hoping that the lust shining so bright in your eyes would convince him to double back on his word. When he showed no sign of backing down, you shook your head against his hold.

“No, sir.”

“Why not?” He challenged, hoping to hear some sort of repentance in your answer.

Oh, how odd it is for the devil to expect repentance from someone when he has not even done it himself.

In your own devilish way, a spark of mischief flashed in your eyes as you responded with fake apologies.

“I’ve been so bad, sir.” You put on a dramatic display, mocking him as he stood before you with all the power in the world. “I’ve been such a bad girl for you, and bad girls don’t get what they want.” You gave an innocent smile, putting on your best show in hopes of making another clear display of disobedience. He gave you a pointed stare, showing his displeasure with your actions. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’ll do whatever you want to make up for it.” As you finished your sentence, his hand dropped from your chin and moved downwards to rest on your neck. You held his stare, neither of you willing to back down. “Isn’t that what you wanted to hear, sir?” His fingers tightened around your neck, gradually growing more comfortable as the seconds passed.

“My god you talk a lot, sweetheart.” His calm voice sent a shiver down your spine, knowing that the buttons you were pressing could have an explosive reaction. “You really know how to piss me off.” He said it almost as if it was a compliment, and you took it as one, too. To know that you had so much power over him in any way was exhilarating. “Let me tell you how this is going to work, okay?” He watched your face, waiting for another hint of argument in your eye. When it never came, he continued on. “You’re going to do as I say, and if you decide to listen this time, I might let you cum. If want to keep being be a brat, you can get yourself off after I go home. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir.” You choked out, finding it hard to fill your lungs with enough air to speak. You wanted to blame it on his fingers locked around your throat, but you knew it was because his aura was so powerful that it stole the air directly from your lungs. You were fearful that he would not find enough kindness to grant you an orgasm, but you were even more fearful that he would go home without you after the night’s excitement came to an end. You would never admit it to him, but your bed was too empty without him in it, sleeping soundly beside you.

“Good,” he said, tightening his hold just a little more. Your head was beginning to swim with the familiar airy feeling and your chest was burning for a hint of oxygen. “Now get in your fucking room and take your clothes off.” He let go with a little more force than intended, causing you to stumble backwards slightly. His first reaction was to reach out and steady you, and to apologize for the intensity of his actions, but he was trying to prove a point. It was much too easy for him to dote on you, and he had to use all of his willpower to hold back.

You could not ignore the incessant ache between your legs as you made your way to the bedroom, partially from the denial of your orgasm, but mostly because of his authoritative tone and actions. You were a fool for Jake, undeniably in lust with him and willing to do whatever he wanted as long as there was a promise for him to keep touching you. As much as you liked to piss him off, you knew that at the end of the day, you would bend to his will until your bones snapped and you were stuck there permanently. He could get you to do whatever he pleased with a snap of his fingers and only minuscule argument. He was the first man to ever walk the earth that held enough power to bend your own will, and you were not even upset at him for the fact.

Once the door was closed and the two of you were locked in seclusion together, he leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you undress. You caught his eye, the submissive nature fleeing you for a moment once again. He did so good at getting you there, and you did fantastically at pulling yourself out of it.

A match made in heaven was not even close to what the two of you had. In fact, it was better described as a match made in the deepest depths of hell.

You slowly brought your hands to the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly to give him a small flash of skin. Carefully and with great ease, you pulled the shirt from your body and lifted it over your head, discarding it on the floor. You moved on to your pants, bending down and sliding them off completely. His jaw was hard set as his eyes stayed glued to your figure, wondering what he ever did to deserve the company of such an angel.

But, you were not an angel, and the evil that ran through you was the only match to his own devilish attitude.

You reached behind you, unclasping the hooks of your bra. When you let it fall from your shoulders, you could see his eyes darken even further. You pulled it away from your skin, tossing it on the floor but this time, in the direction of where he was standing. His stare broke from you only for a moment to watch the fabric flutter to the ground.

“Is this your way of saying sorry?” He raised an eyebrow, needing to comment on your half-assed strip-tease.

“Is it working?” You cocked your head to the side, a small smile on your lips. He chuckled at your expression, taking a step towards you. Within seconds, he was in front of you and his hands were on you again, much gentler than they were moments before. He was showing you remorse for his harsh treatment, but he wasn’t willing to give you a verbal apology.

“I think you’re going to have to work a little harder than that.” He said, looking down at your face. You figured as much, but you could help but notice the disappointment weighing on your shoulders. “Any ideas?” He asked.

“I think I have one.” You offered, giving him a real smile. Although his form of punishment was delaying your orgasm, he did not realize just how much pleasing him pleased you. Slowly, you sunk to your knees, not needing to wait for a response. His head fell backwards, a cocky smile stuck on his lips as he looked towards the ceiling. He was thrilled about your idea, and he could not have thought of a better resolution if he tried.

You unbuckled his belt, sliding it through the loops and throwing it down on the floor. He was painfully hard, his zipper begging to bust at the seam from the strain. As if to taunt him, you made the process as slow as possible. He was patient, knowing your game better than you played it. When you freed him from his pants, he helped you pull them off of him. He kicked them to the side, uncaring for any grace, and fixed his gaze on your face.

“Would this show you how sorry I am, sir?” You looked up at him, catching him off guard with an innocent eye. He took in a shark breath, nearly feral from the sight of you on your knees for him.

“That depends on how good of a job you do, angel.” He had no fear about your performance, nor had he ever. He was well aware of the effect you had on him, and he was certain that you could punch him in the face and he would thank you with tears in his eyes. Without another word, you pulled down his boxers, your mouth watering at the thought of making him feel as good as he made you feel.

You moved forward, parting your lips slightly to take him into your mouth. As you did, you let your tongue glide across the tip of his cock, the small movement sending a wave of euphoria through him. His hand reach down, tangling in your hair as he balled it into his fist. You could feel him throbbing in your mouth, knowing immediately how pent up he was from the days spent away from you. Slowly, you took him further, focusing intently until you could feel him hit the back of your throat. He let out a hiss of pleasure, holding himself back from thrusting his hips in response to the feeling. He cared little about pushing you to any limit, and was more concerned with you working to make up for the attitude you had been giving him.

You bobbed your head down on him a few times, not giving him nearly enough relief from your slow pace. He fought the urge to take control, knowing that he could enjoy the moment without pushing you any further just yet. He wanted to see what you were capable of, and from there, he would decide if he could find enough kindness to get you off. He watched you carefully, noticing your eyes flicking towards his face every so often. You were making sure he was watching you, and he was making sure you were watching him. The two of you were intent on being the centre of attention, and there was nobody else in the world you wanted to be watched by.

You pulled back, already finding your face a mess with spit despite barely getting started. You withdrew a long breath, looking up at him with a hopeful expression. “Just like that?” You said, watching his eye twitch ever so slightly at the filthy question.

“Just like that, angel.” He agreed, pushing your head back towards his cock so it was resting on your lips. “Doing such a good job.” The praise sent anothe rush of arousal to your core; you were aching to be touched by him again, but touching him was doing just the same for you. You took him back into your mouth, speeding your movements just enough for him to notice the change. You would never tell him, but you were hoping for him to take control of the situation. Being used by Jake was one of the greatest pleasures you’d ever experienced.

Slowly, his hand applied more pressure on your head, guiding it down further with every move you made. You let out a moan against him, the vibration sending a whole new wave of pleasure through him. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth, angel.” He crooned, looking down at you as his chest heaved with his heavy breathing. “Do you like being my little whore?” The question struck you with the same intensity as a punch to the stomach. You thought you might fall over if not for his hand holding you in place. You locked eyes with him, unable to confirm the answer verbally, but hoping your expression would tell him enough. He took in a long breath, trying to keep his composure at the idea of you being so infatuated with him. He could tell he was right, and it was driving him to insanity.

With that, he gave an aggressive thrust of his hips, keeping your head in place so he didn’t stun you too much with the movement. The quick motion caused a gag to rise in your throat, constricting around him as he held himself there for a moment. Once you recovered from the shock, he began at a steady pace that was much faster than the one you had set. You tried to focus your breathing until he had pleased himself enough to pull away, but it was proving difficult. Once you thought you had caught up to his speed, he began moving your head down on him in time with his hips. Tears were threatening to spill onto your cheeks, and your desire for a breath of air was growing more dire by the second, but you persevered.

“You take it so fucking good.” He hissed, now completely lost in the pleasure he was feeling. The words were nearly too much for you, and you were desperate for relief. You figured that he would not notice if your hand slipped between your legs, or if he did, he would not care. As he fucked your face, you reached your hand between your legs and let your finger trace around your clit. The stimulation was not nearly as much as you needed, nor anything comparable to what he could do for you, but it was something. The small waves of pleasure that you were feeling allowed you to continue on with his brutal pace, distracting you from the roughness and satiating your need for him just a little longer.

You were a fool for thinking you could sneak anything past the devil.

His eyes drifted downwards towards you, taking a moment to fully understand the reality as the haze of sexual energy surrounded him. As his eyes came into focus, they first landed on your face, revelling in your beauty and moved by your likeness to an Angel. Then, his gaze caught your arm that was tucked neatly out of view. He moved his head to the side, a wicked smirk stuck on his lips as he noticed your fingers trying to relieve yourself of the ache that was bothering you so badly. You hadn’t noticed his stare lingering on you, and you did not know he had noticed and taken note of your disobedience yet again. Instead of punishing you, he decided to see how long it would take for you to realize.

Now crazed for a whole new reason, his movements remained steady as he watched you please yourself. He could see it in your face, even as you tried to keep up with his movements. The furrow of your eyebrow was familiar to him, as was the moans you were letting out when the situation permitted it. The expression and the sounds had nothing to do with his cock down your throat, and it had everything to do with the orgasm that was building steadily. He let you go until he knew you were just about to reach the peak, angry at you for not knowing how to listen, but also enthralled in the beauty of your euphoria. Knowing you were so willing to make him feel good, and knowing that it turned you into a mess in turn did the exact same to him.

You took a particularly sharp intake of breath, and he knew his tirade had to come to an end. With great reluctance, he pulled your head off of him, but not even that could distract you from the pleasure threatening to take hold. You were lost in your own world, but he couldn’t seem to find the generosity to allow it.

In a flash, his hand struck your cheek with enough force to shock you back to reality. It wasn’t nearly enough to harm you, nor cause any lasting pain, but it did exactly what he intended for it to do. You looked up at him, eyes wide in terror that you’d been caught in the act. “You were so close, sweetheart.” He gave a small shake of his head, his chest still heaving for a full breath of air. “You almost had me convinced that you could be good for me.”

“I’m sorry, Jake.” You apologized, the words falling from your lips in a mess. This time, the apology was genuine, and you felt terrible about disobeying him. Although it was genuine, it was wholeheartedly for the sake of selfishness.

“I’m the one that should be sorry, angel.” He sighed, motioning with his hand for you stand. “I should know better. You’ll always be a brat,” he continued, making sure you were steady on your feet before he pushed you towards the bed. “But it doesn’t really mattter, because I know exactly how to handle you.”

“Jake please, I promise I’ll be so good for you.” You pleaded, feeling your legs hit the mattress as you tried to back away from him. The fire in his eye was dangerous, but it was enticing. As much as you tried to plead with him to change his mind, you knew you would enjoy whatever he had in store for punishment.

“For some strange reason, I don’t believe you sweetheart.” He chuckled, finding your empty promises comical. He leaned down, grabbing his belt from the floor and taking a long look at it as he straightened up again. “Since you don’t know how to behave, I’ll have to make sure your hands don’t go wandering again. We wouldn’t want you to cum without permission, right?”

“Right,” you muttered, knowing you were fighting a losing battle. Without any further argument, you extended your hands towards him.

“I’ll strike you a deal, just because you’re so damn pretty.” He sighed, unable to resist the urge to coddle you. “If you can be good for me, I’ll consider taking these off.” He looped the leather around your wrists, pulling it until it was tight enough to keep them in place. He didn’t push it any further, too nervous about making it too tight. “Does that sound alright?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded.

“You better be on your best behaviour angel, because this is your last chance. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You repeated. He let out a hum of appreciation at your obedient tone, happy to hear your change of heart.

“Now we can finish what we started with no interruptions.” He smiled down at you. “On the bed, on your hands and knees.” He ordered, watching as you scrambled to get into position. You knew you’d pushed him a little too far, and he was no longer willing to play nice. “Isn’t it so much easier when you do as your told? No punishments, no arguments… unless that’s what you’re hoping for?” He took a step towards you, watching as you looked up at him as you anticipated his next move. “Is that what you want, angel? You want me to treat you like a whore?” You averted your gaze from his face, instead looking down at his cock that was eye-level with you. It was painfully hard, the tip red and glistening with pre-cum from the excitement that came before your rude interruption. “Do you like it when I punish you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.” You whispered, eager to have him in your mouth again. He let out a low chuckle, amazed at the sight before him. When he first met you that night at the bar, he knew he had a slim chance at ending up in your bed at all. He never expected to have you on your knees for him, willing to do whatever was asked of you just to please him.

“Maybe that’s what’s wrong. I’m not hard enough on you. I let you get away with too much, and now you think you can do whatever you want.” He brought his hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb across the soft, blushed skin. “Do I have to remind you who’s in charge? Will that fix your little attitude problem?”

“No, sir.” You whispered, but it was weak and he knew that you wanted exactly what he said.

“You have to be a little more convincing than that, baby.” He said, the tip of his cock now practically resting on your lips. You were barely able to contain your excitement, thrilled at the idea of pleasing him again. “Maybe that’s what I’ll have to do then, since you don’t seem to have a better solution.”

“Whatever you want, sir.” You breathed, your eyes flickering up towards his face. The crazed look in his eye was paired dangerously with the tensed muscle in his jaw. He was feral for you, and he wasn’t afraid to show it anymore. You did something to him nobody else ever could, and he knew that when your clothes were back on and you were nestled under the covers for the night, that feeling would still be burning in his chest.

He had fallen for you beyond anything he ever believed he could feel, and with every minute that passed, he descended even further into the depths of loving you.

Without any further guidance, you opened your mouth and ran your tongue gently across the sensitive skin. He let out a sharp sigh, shuddering at the feeling. Slowly, you took the head of his cock in your mouth and suctioned your cheeks slightly, moving your head down on him. Worked up from the last time, the sensation was now even more intense and he could not hold back the moan that was stuck in his throat. The sound settled in the pit of your stomach, your arousal nearly too much to handle, now. With the loss of your hands, you feared you might die from your need for him if it was not taken care of soon enough.

“That’s my girl.” He said, his eyes fixated on your face. “I knew you could be good for me.” You hummed against him, showing your appreciation for the praise. Although part of your obedience came from your desire to orgasm, a bigger part was just because he was so hard to deny. Fighting and arguing was in your nature, but when it came down to it, you knew that you would always give him what he wanted. His sweet words and soft touch was better than any drug, and knowing he felt the same about you was exhilarating.

You had fallen just as hard, and you were both playing the devil’s advocate by denouncing love while feeling it so strongly. By reminding each other romance was out of the question, you were hoping that it would open a bigger discussion on the topic. Although actively trying to ignore the obvious, a deeper part of you was desperate to bring it up. You knew that there was no way you were the only one feeling that way, and you were aching to hear him say all of the words you had been too scared to speak.

Jakes hand tangled in your hair again, holding your head steady as he took control once again. His hips moved forward, his pace starting slow so he could work himself back up to the one you were engaging in previously. The ache between your legs was unbearable, but you had no other choice but to persevere. Tears were brimming your eyes again, and every time he moved a gag was begging to be had. He was much closer than he was the last time, and his movements were much sloppier. The moans falling from his lips were the most heavenly thing you’d ever heard, and that was the only thing keeping you going.

“It’s so much more peaceful when you can’t fucking talk.” He growled, the pleasure creeping up on him growing more intense by the second. “Now I know how to shut you up.” If he was not using your mouth for his own sexual pleasure, you would have laughed at his comment. He knew just as well as you did that it was in fact the only reason you weren’t slinging insults at him. You moaned against him, playing into his little power trip in hopes of speeding up the process. Every time his cock hit the back of your throat, you knew he was growing closer to a climax. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it angel?” You let out another noise, your enthusiasm driving him even closer to the edge. “Should just cum in your mouth and leave you here like this. That would teach you a lesson, wouldn’t it angel?” You let out another groan, but this one filled with discontent at his words. You both knew he would never even dream of doing such a thing, but you feared if you didn’t disagree, he might actually follow through with it.

You felt him twitch in your mouth as a slur of curses fell from his lips, but he pulled away with enough time to avoid an orgasm. You looked up at him, your face red and your eyes watering, but he still thought you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the pleasure of looking at. The room was a mess of heavy breathing and sexual tension, and neither of you could withstand the pressure any longer. After one last look over your face, he took a step to the side and out of your line of vision. Now, the only thing you could see was your reflection in the mirror placed meticulously by the wall in front of your bed.

His hand drifted over your bare back with a delicate touch after he undressed himself completely. He climbed into bed behind you, looking at your face in the mirror. His fingers gripped your hips as a smile began blossoming on his lips. He’d been waiting for this all night, and now that the moment had arrived, he was nearly vibrating with excitement. “Do you want me to fuck you, angel?” He whispered, his voice barely breaking through the silence.

“Yes, please.” You pleaded, knowing that you were still completely at his mercy. You could not move from your position, nor could you change his mind if he decided to continue torturing you.

“How bad do you want it?” His hand drifted between your legs, his finger finding your clit with ease. You took in a sharp breath at the feeling, already overwhelmed and he had barely even touched you.

“So bad, Jake.” You whimpered, out of your mind with lust for him. You needed him so badly you were delirious at the thought. “Please, baby. I need you.” You watched him through the reflection, seeing his eyes close in bliss at your words.

“How can I say no to you when you say it like that?” He asked, his tone airy and completely clouded with desire for you. He no longer had the willpower to tease you, and it was becoming more apparent by the second. For a moment longer, he let his finger trace over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He moved forward, letting himself rest against your entrance. He listened to the sounds falling from your lips, your relief sending him into a whole new state of mind. He moved his hand away from you, but you didn’t have enough time to mourn the loss before he was pushing into you.

“Fuck,” you cried, the feeling immediately overwhelming you.

“Does that feel good, angel?”

“So good, baby.” You whined, biting down on your lip to hold back the obscenities begging to be heard. “I missed you so much.” You breathed, barely noticing the tone of voice it was spoken in. It made his hips stutter and his mind stop for a second. His heart swelled with affection at the statement, and all he could do was smile.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” He crooned, delivering a sharp slam of his hips to follow the words. A gasp fell from your lips, and you arched your back upwards towards him, desperate for more. You let your top half lower to the mattress, closing your eyes so you could live in the pleasure momentarily. “Look at me.” He ordered, reaching down at knotting your hair in his fist once again. He pulled your head upwards with a rough motion of his hand, ensuring your eyes were locked on the reflection in the mirror. “Want to see that pretty face while I fuck you.” You let out a whimper, the power of his voice making you weak.

Convincing yourself that you weren’t in love with him was a foolish endeavour, but you were still trying your best despite your stomach tying in knots at the sight of his beauty in the mirror.

“Is this what you thought about while I was gone?” He asked, his tone strong and his hips moving with just the same strength. “Did you touch yourself right here in this bed, waiting for me to come and fuck you like this?”

“God yes, Jake.” You gasped, feeling the pressure rising in your belly. You couldn’t deny him the pleasure of hearing it anymore, even if you wanted to. He’d been waiting to hear the truth from the minute he walked inside, and now you were too far gone to fight the urge to submit to him. “I thought about you every night.”

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He hummed, thrilled at the sound. “You don’t have to worry any more, angel. I’ll take care of you, just like you deserve.” He brought his hand down on your ass, watching your face in the reflection as the sting of pain took over. “Let me hear all of those filthy fucking noises I missed out on.” His order was useless, because you were already doing just that. You couldn’t contain any of the moans, nor any curses. You were singing his name like a hymn, but it was the most sacrilegious song ever sung. There was nothing holy to worship, and you were praising the devil with pride.

“Jake,” you cried, his name burrowing into the walls and making home in the foundation of your house. His presence would live there forever, and you would never be able to run away from it. He was everything, and you were just the lucky soul who could be the recipient of his love. You no longer had fear of Jake taking over your life, because you knew it would be empty and lackluster without his presence.

“My name sounds so pretty when you say it like that.” He groaned, his fingers branding your hips with bruises for you to see in days to come. His fist was tight in your hair, ensuring your eyes would remain on the picture of sin you’d found yourselves in.

“It feels so fucking good,” you whimpered, the pain bordering pleasure so divine that you could no longer think straight.

“Don’t cum yet, baby.” He warned, the look in his eye dangerous.

“Please Jake, I need it so bad.” You pleaded, desperate for a shred of sympathy.

“You’re being so good for me, sweetheart. Just hold on a little longer.” He promised pleasure as long as you listened, and the deal was the same every time. If you were good for him, he was phenomenal to you. You usually had no problem with the agreement, but it had been so long since you felt his hands on you that you weren’t sure you could hold back any longer. He’d pushed you to the edge already, and you thought it was impossible to deny yourself of the pleasure any longer.

“I can’t, Jake.” You cried, shaking your head against his tight hold on you.

“You can, angel. I know you can.” He encouraged you, knowing for certain that you could hold on a little while longer. You bit down on your lip hard enough to draw blood in hopes that it would distract you from the incessant burn that was growing stronger in the pit of your stomach. The tip of his cock was slamming into your cervix, the intensity of the feeling making your legs shake below you and your mind cross with thoughts of nothing but filth. Tears stung your eyes and you felt like you were being pushed closer to insanity with every thrust of his hips.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, your eyes squeezing shut in anticipation. You were so close that there was no way you could slow it down. As you teetered on the edge, you felt yourself slowly descending into the euphoria. Just when you were about to fall, the feeling stopped completely. Your eyes snapped open, now realizing that his withdrawal was a million times worse than any punishment he could possibly give you for cumming without permission.

Now, the tears were real, and they were all due to your frustration with him for denying you any kind of help. Before you could even form a thought of protest against his withdrawal, he got off the bed and moved in front of you once again.

“Hey,” he whispered, crouching down so you were face to face. He brushed the tears away from your cheeks with his thumb, fearful he’d pushed you too far. “No need for tears, angel.” He leaned forward, capturing you in a small kiss. As he did so, his hands found your wrists, loosening the belt that was holding them together. The anxiety in your chest subsided, realizing quickly that he was no longer trying to punish you, but rather fulfill his promise that he’d given you earlier. “I told you that I’d take it off if you were good for me, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding in bliss at the realization he was going to follow through with his promise. He let the belt fall to the floor before standing on his feet, letting his thumb brush across your cheek again.

“Come here, baby.” He prompted you to join him, giving you a soft smile to show you he was being serious. His dominance was gone, and he was ready to coddle you for the rest of the night. He’d pushed you far enough, and now he wanted you to enjoy whatever came next. Once you were on your feet, he led you back towards the head of the bed. He laid down, holding his arm out for you to join him. With a small smile stuck on your lips, you watched him settle himself amongst the pillows. He propped himself up slightly against the headboard as you got in the bed, too. You climbed atop of him, settling your legs on either side of him as you felt the excitement begin to take over again. “Is this better?”

“Yeah,” you laughed, unable to put it into words. You lined yourself up with him, melting into his hold. His hands were holding your hips, his touch soft and inviting, and his eyes no longer held the flame they did moments before. He’d completely softened at the sight of your face so close to his, and he was fighting every urge he had to love you.

You lowered yourself on him, both of you letting out a simultaneous sigh of relief. “God I missed this, sweetheart.”

“Me too, baby.” You breathed, anchoring your hand on his shoulder as you began a slow motion with your hips.

“You feel so fucking good.” He sighed, using his own hands to help keep your movements steady. You leaned down, placing your lips on his in a heated kiss. You wanted him in every way you could have him, and even while he was intertwined with you in the most intimate ways possible, it still didn’t feel like enough.

He was the most beautiful thing this world had ever created, and you wanted to stay like that with him for the rest of your life. When he left, your home seemed too empty. When you couldn’t talk, you missed him more than you ever cared to admit. He had become the most important person in your life without even trying, and the line between casualness had been long crossed. As you worked yourself back up to an orgasm, love was surrounding you both completely. It was certain death, and you were a dead woman walking, but you didn’t care. The longer you avoided speaking the truth, the longer you could have him in the same way. You were terrified of disturbing the peace, but you feared that the longer you held it back, the more disastrous the situation would become.

“You want to cum, angel?” He mumbled against your lips, feeling your hips speed against him as he spoke.

“Yes, please.” You whined, already feeling the steady build of pleasure rising. Every touch was euphoric, and every glance was angelic. No matter what he was doing, you were a fool for thinking you could escape it. His web was spun too intricately to even strike a curiosity about a way out.

“You want it so bad, work for it.” His voice was low, husky and soft. It was filled with desire for you, and he was eager to watch you descend into bliss. As much as he loved the control, his favorite part of sex with you was watching you have a good time. The closeness was intoxicating, and he was completely immersed in you as you desperately tried to get yourself off.

“Can you help me? Please?” You begged, needing to feel the grace of his hands on you.

“You want me to touch you, angel?” He hummed, clenching his jaw as he held back his own orgasm. The thought of needing him was too much to bear.

“Please, sir.” You whimpered, looking down at him with a longing stare. His heavily hooded eyes were clouded with lust, and he no longer had enough willpower to deny you of anything. At the end of the day, he knew he would always give you exactly what you wanted.

“Since you asked so nicely, baby.” He agreed, moving his hand from your hip and slipping it between your legs. You leaned backwards slightly, allowing him easier access to you. The pad of his finger danced over your sensitive clit, the feeling immediately bringing you closer to the edge. You moved your hands and anchored them behind you, firmly on his thighs to keep yourself upright. You gyrated your hips faster, keeping in time with the circles his finger was tracing. “Just like that?”

“Fuck, yes.” You moaned, closing your eyes as you felt the knot begin to tighten in your belly.

“That’s it, angel.” He said, encouraging you to keep going. “Cum for me, baby.” The permissive statement was all you needed to keep going, and within seconds you descended into the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt in your entire life. You sang his name, the song sweet and beautiful, and he thought it was the most moving thing he’d ever heard.

He watched you closely, studying every detail of your face as it twisted into an expression of pleasure. The way your eyebrows furrowed, and the curl of your lip as you tried to silence yourself. He was in love with the way your skin tinged red and the glisten of sweat that formed on your face. He adored you and everything about you, and he was in no place to deny it any longer. His eyes drifted downwards, admiring the tensed muscles in your shoulders and the way your breasts moved in time with your hips. His gaze trailed down your stomach, tense with pleasure, and all the way down to his hand working at you as you rode out the high.

“That’s my girl,” his voice was weak, completely constrained by his own struggle to hold himself back. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” The waver in his words sent you into another wave of euphoria; knowing how intense his emotions were was sending you to a whole new level of pleasure.

“Fuck, Jake.” You croaked, completely exhausted and fucked out. You were so tired that you could barely hold yourself up, but he caught on to the fact and braced you with his own hand. As you came down, your head was spinning and your legs were trembling. He moved his fingers from your clit, grabbing your hips as he continued to move them for you. Within seconds, he reached his own orgasm with just as much force as your own. He managed your name through the mess of curses that fell from his lips. His head fell back on the pillow as he spilled his release into you, continuing moving your hips for you to draw out the pleasure for as long as possible.

When you both calmed from the excitement, you let out a long sigh of satisfaction. You practically collapsed on top of him, craving the warmth of his skin on your own. He wrapped a strong arm around you, holding you close in hopes that you knew how welcomed the moment was. He let his fingers trace small shapes into your skin as your heartbeats turned into one. You let your fingers run over his bicep, the touch light and tickling his skin. He placed a small kiss to the top of your head, not enough for you to chastise him for, but enough to let you know he cared.

“I don’t think we should spend that much time away from each other anymore.” He chuckled, breathing in the comforting scent of your shampoo. He’d missed so dearly that he was unsure if he could live without it again.

“I agree.” You smiled, placing a small kiss to his chest. “When we have sex this good, I think it’s a crime to go without it.” He hummed a sound of agreement, but he couldn’t deny the stab he felt at the thought of you only wanting him around for sex. Although that was the clear agreement, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be around for more than just a hookup. He daydreamed about innocent dinners and days spent browsing shops in the city, hand in hand with nothing but smiles on your faces. He wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up on the couch every night, pretending to be interested in whatever movie was playing on the television while knowing the most important thing in the world was the girl laying in his arms.

Instead of speaking his mind, he let a lock of your hair twist around his finger. It was easier to ignore it than face the consequences of rejection.

“We should get cleaned up.” You mumbled, but you regretted speaking at all. You wanted to stay in that bed with him until the end of time. The fear of age and death meant nothing when you were experiencing such intimacy at the hands of someone so fantastic.

“Sure, angel.” He agreed, but he prayed you would change your mind. After a moment, you made a move to sit up. He ignored the sinking disappointment and did the same. The two of you went to the bathroom in silence, washing away the sinful reminders of your night of reuinion. As you cleaned up your messy makeup in the mirror, you felt his hands drift over the marks beginning to form on your hips. He would never say it, but you knew he felt regret for being so rough with you. An animalistic nature took over the both of you in the bedroom, and you couldn’t help the volatile attraction the two of you felt. When the moment passed and you realized how you treated each other, guilt began to plague you both.

He placed a kiss on your shoulder, waiting until you were finished to return to the bedroom with you. When you felt as though you looked presentable, the two of you made the journey back. You threw his shirt on, wasting no time before climbing under the covers. When you didn’t notice him immediately behind you, you peeked around the room to see what he’d busied himself with.

He stood at your desk, only in his boxers as he looked over the items littering the surface. “What are you doing?” You asked, but you didn’t really care. You knew that whatever he was up to was harmless, and you had nothing to hide from him anymore. It was genuine curiosity over what had caught his attention.

“You have some expensive cameras.” He said, amazed at the quality of your things.

“Well, I take pictures for a living, so I kind of have to.” You chuckled, nestling your head into the pillows.

“You have a Polaroid camera?” He asked, looking back over his shoulder at you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, peeking at him through one eye. “Some people like that style, especially younger clients. I bring it with me and I use it sometimes for a picture or two. I don’t love it because I can’t edit the pictures, and what you get is what you get, but it’s a cool part of photo shoots. A little personal memory to bring home right away.” You shrugged, smiling at his curiosity. He picked it up, looking it over for a moment. Normally, you would be unwilling to let someone else touch your equipment, but you had no fear when your camera was in his hands. If he handled them with even half as much care as he held you with, you knew that it was the safest place for them to be.

“Is there film in this?” He asked, looking back at you again.

“Should be, why?” You asked, watching him take a few steps towards you.

“Smile.” He said, a smile stuck on his own lips as he asked you to do so.

“No, Jake.” You covered your face. “I look like shit.” You laughed. Your hair was a mess and your cheeks were still rosy from the rushing blood moments before. Your eyes were tired, and you were only clad in his t-shirt. You were nowhere near picture-worthy, but he couldn’t disagree more. He thought that in that moment, the epitome of beauty was sat directly in front of him.

“Impossible,” he shook his head, crouching down at the end of the bed “because you’re the most beautiful person in the whole world.”

“Oh, shut up.” You rolled your eyes.

“Please?” He asked again. “I promise I won’t show anyone else.” You let out a sigh of defeat, but you lowered your hand.

“Fine. Just one, though.” You surrendered. “But I get to take one of you, too.”

“Of course.” He agreed. You sat up against the headboard slightly, fixing your hair as you did so. You put on a smile, one that was clearly fake and only for the pose. “Come on. Give me a real smile, angel.” He said.

“That is real!”

“Uh-huh,” he rolled his eyes. “A photographer can’t tell a real smile from a fake one?”

“I can, but clearly you can’t. Must be why I’m the photographer and you stick to writing songs.”

“Ouch,” he laughed, “you say that as if writing songs is a bad thing.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing.” You defended. “But, I don’t know if your songs are any good.” You corrected him.

“Maybe if someone would get over herself and listen to them, she’d know that they’re pretty great, actually.” His pitch got higher as he spoke, clearly telling you it was a joke. He looked at you over the camera, smiling at your stunned expression. “What? Got nothing to argue about, now? That’s a first.”

“You’re an asshole.” You laughed, finding his confidence charming. Just as you did, he snapped a picture of you amidst a real laugh, finding the moment of joy too precious to pass up. He waited as the photo printed from the bottom, grabbing it as he walked towards your desk to let it develop. “Give it to me.” You extended your hand, moving towards him to grab it. He handed it to you, posing no argument as he did so.

He collapsed on the bed next to you, settling himself in the same position as you were in. You moved to the end of the bed, kneeling as you studied his position. Before you took the picture, you leaned forward and fixed the blanket draped over his waist. You reached up, brushing the hair away from his eyes and giving him a small smile as you did so.

“How do I look?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Beautiful.” You confirmed, but no hint of a joke was present. You leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on his lips before you returned to your earlier position. He didn’t have to fake his smile, because every one he’d ever had around you was the most genuine he’d ever felt. You took the picture, placing the Polaroid on the comforter before moving towards him. You settled beside him, turning the camera to face you both.

“You like me enough to take a picture with me?” He teased, surprised at your initiation of the moment.

“Don’t let it get to your head.” You brushed him off, ignoring his intent to get under your skin. He chuckled, leaning in just in time to press a kiss to your cheek as you clicked the button. You watched as it printed, grabbing it and moving to collect the other one as well.

You sat the camera beside you, watching intently as the photograph developed. The one of him on his lonesome finished first, and it nearly stole the air from your lungs. You had no idea a person could be so ethereal, but there he was, and you were so lucky to be in his company. Sometimes it felt like you did not deserve the care and attention that Jake gave you, and you did not feel nearly special enough to be receiving it from someone so phenomenal. When the second one finished developing, you couldn’t help but feel an unfamiliar feeling rise in your chest. It wasn’t lust, or desire, which was something you so often felt around him. Instead, it was adoration, and further underneath that was the emotion you’d been working so hard to cover up. When you looked over at him, you could see in his eyes that he felt the same way.

Love was dancing on the tip of your tongue, begging to be spoken and furious with you for ignoring it. You bit back the word, instead leaning forward to place a kiss on his lips. You swore he could taste the sweetness of your feelings for him from the small action alone, and he feared all the same things. As you moved to place the camera on your desk, you stopped and stuck the two pictures in the corner of your mirror, ensuring that you could see them every time you passed by. It was a second of sweetness that would brighten even the darkest of days. When you returned to his side, your body was heavy with the weight of your heart that now solely belonged to him. You were terrified, and you refused to speak it aloud, but there was a small part of you that knew it was safe with him. As fearful as you were, you knew that he would not do the same as others who came before him.

You nestled yourself into his arms, content in his hold and knowing that you had never missed anything more than you missed his comfort. You closed your eyes as the newest deadly sin filled the air around you, pushing out the love and replacing it with evil. Your laziness in regards to confessing your feelings would eat away at you, and your failure to utilize your talent would kill you. The two of you were better at loving each other than you were at anything else, but you were too busy denying it to realize that it was exactly what you’d been doing all along. You were descending further into the depths of hell with every day that passed, but the evil had become so comfortable that the flames no longer burned. Now, it was a soft tickle that reminded you of home, and you knew that you were here to stay.

In the moment, sloth seemed like the most innocent crime you had committed in your time spent knowing him so intimately, but in the long run, it simply wasn’t true. Sloth was the most deadly sin to date, because it would eventually cause the most disastrous consequences. By avoiding the truth, you were setting yourself up for catastrophic failure, and when the time came, there would be no chance for recovery. It was opening the door for a whole new world of possibilities, but none of them good; your comfortability with your own sinful actions was dangerous, and ignoring the love that was growing for him would hurt you more than the both of you confessing the truth. Now, you had chosen to suffer in silence, and any grounds of doubt or defense no longer existed. Remaining in a casual relationship while loving each other so deeply only allowed for you to hurt each other in the most brutal ways possible; causing harm without even realizing the damage you left behind.

Sloth left you vulnerable, and you were too blind to realize the dangers. After all, how can you hurt someone who has never admitted to the fact that they are able to be hurt by you at all?

TAGLIST: @sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlove @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire @twistedmelodies @gretavangroupie @alwaysonthemend @edgingthedarkness @gvfpal @sinarainbows @writingcold @starcatcher-jake @literal-dead-leaf @takenbythemadness @gretasfallingsky @hsfallingsky @freyjalw @itsafullmoon @lyndz2names @blacksoul-27 @i-love-gvf @vikingsisthenewsexy @mp0801 @mindastreamofcolours @indigogvf @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jordie-gvf @cassy-face @highway-tuna @creadliz98 @dancingcarbon @do-it-jakey-baby

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gomapda · 8 days

Text

sidewalks we crossed [side B: him.] (pt. 2)

this is broken into parts because tumblr has a limit of 1000 blocks.

side A found here! | side B (part 1) found here!

author's note:

part two of side b!

the final installment.

it's been a long journey to get here, and any messages or words i read in the tags of the reblogs were a source of comfort for me during these times. i'm glad that my words resonated with even just one of you.

and of course, thank you for being here.

✧⋆°｡☾☼꙳ ੭ * ‧ ⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ‧ ⨯ ς(>‿<.). ⁺ ✦ * . ˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧☼☽⋆｡°✧

pairing: lee jihoon/woozi (seventeen) x f!reader

genre: romance, fluff

summary: an accidental like, an off-chance comment, a purposeful message. you were in an unrequited love with your childhood best friend and decided to run away from him and your feelings and years later you find yourself in the same city with the same feelings when he stalks your instagram.

rating: 13+

length: 30k (bro WHAT LOL)

tags: idol!jihoon, childhood friend!reader, unrequited love (but not really), reconnection through instagram, this is just different scenes pieced together (including a ton of flashbacks), reader’s nicknames are all bug-themed, reader has depression and it manifests as suicidal ideation sometimes, this is basically real life (aka seventeen exists and debuted 150526), but the years are a little bit off for the trainee period, jihoon left busan later and trained for shorter for the sake of my story hehe, cursing, pining, mamamoo + ateez are the besties of reader, member x member pairings, jihoon and reader are both dumbasses, reader is extremely book smart but has one brain cell when it comes to romantic feelings, jihoon writes music like he’s been divorced 12x, word genius lee jihoon, idk how doctoral degrees work, i only got my masters and it was a non-thesis track lol, also idk how trainee auditions work either, miss communication is a lady we all know too well, super cute soft shit too tho tbh, no beta we die like men, i spent 5 hours trying to format this for tumblr and i’m still unsure

inspired by “drivers license” by olivia rodrigo and “what kind of future?” by woozi

inspo spotify playlist found here!

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“Noona, I need help.”

Immediately, the older girl closed the book she was reading, a young adult romance novel and turned her attention to him. “You never ask for my help. What’s going on?”

“I… I like Y/N.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Jihoon balked. “What? Does everyone know this already?”

“Y/N doesn’t.”

He groaned loudly.

“Are you finally wanting to tell her?”

“I mean, yeah. I—I just don’t know what to do.”

“Well, I got just the thing for you, Jihoonie.”

Jihoon spent his time trying to come up with some elaborate and dramatic confession (per the advice of his noona). They sat in cafes, picking out different foods that the two of them knew you’d enjoy, scoping out different restaurants, going to the library and her handing him too many romance novels.

After a few weeks, “Noona, you sure this is going to work?”

“Nope.”

“What?! Then why am I doing this?”

“I was just curious to see how much you were willing to do for her. She deserves nothing less than the best, you know,” the girl grinned, now revealing her mischievous side, one that he has never seen before. “Jihoon, you really think that she’s going to want anything that’s a grand gesture?”

“Well. No, but I thought you would know her—”

“Jihoonie, there’s no one that knows her better than you, I think. You probably know her and see her for how she really is. More than she can see herself. All you have to do is just tell her the truth. That’s it.”

“…this was a waste of time.”

She hummed. “Hm, nothing came up for you?”

“What do you mean?”

He could see that she was fidgeting with her fingers. She let out a nervous laugh as she said, “I actually wanted to see whether you still liked me. Whether spending time with me was going to change your mind. Not that I wanted it to! But I didn’t want you to be wishy-washy. She needs stability. She’s already chaotic on her own.”

“You knew I liked you?”

“Just a tiny bit.”

He let out a dry laugh. “Would you have given me a chance?”

“Would you have tried?”

The two of them sat there for a moment, mulling over the weight of the words said between them. But they both knew that there was someone else in their lives who mattered more, who they truly yearned for. If Jihoon and his noona ever pursued something, it would’ve just been them trying to find comfort in each other because they couldn’t have who they wished for. They would’ve tried to shape each other to fit the missing puzzle piece, losing the essence of themselves.

Jihoon and his noona were only mere reflections of who they actually wanted, the illusion created because of how much time was spent together. And that image would’ve faded fast.

“No, I don’t think I would have.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Good luck with him.”

“Yeah… good luck with her. It’ll work out.”

──────────────────

Plenty of people could say that his noona was childish, that she should have picked another route to go down. That it all could’ve been left unsaid. But Jihoon was grateful for her choice to do what she did. Because you didn’t deserve that “what if?”. Neither did he. You both needed to be sure.

And he felt it, walking into the restaurant.

He immediately recognized you, even with your head down. He was so used to seeing you from afar that this was a sight that was unfortunately so familiar to him. He walked forward in hopes of closing the distance between the two of you.

“Jihoon! Hey!” Your cousin said, frantically.

Jihoon held back his laughter, the sight of his hyung flustered a rare occurrence. “Hey, hyung.”

“Oh my goodness, it’s our Jihoonie! Hi!”

He could see that her eyes were screaming: save us. Jihoon wondered if he’d be able to. “Hi, noona.”

Ah, there you went.

Your eyes finally met his.

God, so beautiful.

“Hey, firefly.”

“Holy fuck.”

Jihoon was startled. Since when did you curse? And the fuck word too? But it must be a new development considering the other two were making a huge commotion over it. But even in the midst of chastising, you didn’t break eye contact.

“It’s been a while.”

You blinked. “Um. Yes.”

He couldn’t help but smile. This was happening.

His brilliant and warm and fiery sun.

The reason behind why his own light exists.

His guide, his inspiration, his hope.

His firefly.

Close enough to reach out and catch.

But not quite yet.

“So, are you all done eating?”

“No, not even close! Only ordered one pajeon, but feel free to order anything that you want! Oppa will be covering,” his noona responded as she motioned for him to take the seat next to you. He did and immediately felt you tense up beside him. Jihoon mentally cursed at himself. He should’ve asked.

He decided to lean back in his chair to try to mimic the body language he hoped from you: relaxed. “Hyung’s the best.”

“One day, I’ll make you spend that idol money of yours.”

“Alright, it’s a deal.”

You must have recovered from your shock, since you piped up with a, “Wait. Shouldn’t you be careful about eating out? What if someone sees you here? Couldn’t something happen?”

Aw, you were worried for him. “This is a restaurant that’s frequented by SEVENTEEN. This specific table is so far removed in the corner that it’d be hard to get a good look at my face, especially since my back’s to them.”

You looked around and scanned the area, probably noticing the boisterous environment of hweshiks overpowering the casual dining you were partaking in. “Hm. Okay…”

“You worried about me?”

“No, I’m worried I’m going to end up in Dispatch with message requests from sasaeng fans.”

Jihoon felt the color drain from his face. “If you’re uncomfortable with me being here—”

You immediately shook your head. “That was a joke, I guess it was too serious of a reality for it to seem like one. Jihoon, thanks, really. But I’m scary good at ignoring people. Uh… I’m… I’m glad that you’re here. Seriously.” You paused for a moment, probably noticing the tension that he was too aware of. “Because we’re with two weakass eaters so it’s up to us to finish the job. Will you join me on our noble mission?”

He snorted out a ‘yes’ and the table laughed. Your cousin brought up a time where you were crying because you hated wasting food but the dish was too spicy but you were too stubborn to stop eating. You quickly reminded him that he was the one who tapped out first and left a 9-year-old to solve the issue (“Wouldn’t have been a problem for me if you didn’t create one, oppa!”). The four of you spent more time catching up than thinking about what to order until you were all brought back into the reality that you were at a restaurant and ordered nothing but a pajeon and drinks.

The older two let you and Jihoon decide, as you were both pickier eaters than they were. Once the food arrived, you fell into a rhythm of years’ practice. You pushed your portion of fish and beef onto his plate and he pushed his portion of bean sprouts and japchae onto yours. You both split the pork belly serving evenly between the two of you.

His arm would (accidentally) brush against yours but none of the tension remained from earlier. You didn’t retract, you didn’t run away. In fact, you poked his arm for his attention midway in the conversation and he never thought such a small thing could evoke such happiness.

──────────────────

Physical touch was never something that Jihoon craved. In fact, in most cases, he felt negatively towards it. So, the experience of being touch-starved was not something he knew anything about.

That is, until you were gone for two weeks at an academic competition.

Why the hell was an academic competition half a month? And during summer break? What did they expect middle schoolers to do? Solve world hunger with pi? (The number, not the food.)

You were spending your school vacation for the sake of more school.

What a stupid concept.

And you were on the same team as Baek Yunho, the star player of the baseball team and chemistry league. Jihoon saw the way that Yunho would try to come up to you after a game, but you only ever made a beeline towards Jihoon.

He didn’t realize just how much the two of you gravitated towards each other. Between class periods, he’d pinch your nose or flick your forehead or you would attempt to bring him to his knees by pushing your own into the back of his and fail miserably and he would roundhouse kick you in response. If the two of you had the time, you would go over to his house and dig your toes into his ribcage when he totally owned you during a game of Super Smash Bros. And during the summer, usually, you would be sprawled over him, back to back, as he would watch anime or play games on his phone and you would read your summer reading list.

But normal people wouldn’t consider that physical touch.

And yet here he was, genuinely touch-starved, because you were in Daegu with a whole seven days left.

He grumbled under his breath. Another day has gone by without seeing Baek Yunho during practice which meant another day that you were gone. Something that occupied his mind, as he opened the door to his bedroom, swinging his baseball bag onto his bed.

And he heard a loud, “ow!”

He saw you rubbing your knee on his bed, with a pout on your face. “What the hell are you doing here?”

That’s one way to say he missed you.

“I came back from my competition today to apparently get assaulted by my best friend.”

“I thought it was two weeks long.”

“The whole thing is, but I opted out of the award ceremony. Plus, I only competed in the writing and foreign language portion because that’s all they needed me for, which all happened in the first week.”

Jihoon’s mind didn’t catch up with his body as he reached for you. You yelped and threw a pillow at him, “Ew. No, you just got back from practice and you’re sweaty!”

“Firefly, you’re missing out on a rare opportunity.”

You paused for a moment, possibly recalling all the times he’s rejected a hug from you and realizing this indeed was very rare. “Can you at least wipe off your sweat?”

“Nope, not at all,” Jihoon snickered.

It was now a competition to see who would be the faster one, you rushing for the door or his arms. And of course, the athlete that he is, Jihoon won.

“You smell like the sun! Stop!”

He decidedly rubbed his neck into the shoulder of your shirt and you did your best to wiggle away, but failed. Your look of disdain was met with Jihoon’s satisfied one. “Lee Jihoon, you’re the worst.”

“I’m glad my punching bag is back.”

You pushed his hair back only to immediately retract. “Ugh! How does so much sweat just come out of you?”

“Does it matter when I have a towel right here?”

You pinched his ear as he pushed his sweaty forehead against the other shoulder of your shirt. You burst into a fit of giggles when he found your ticklish spot in the middle of your thigh, but soon enough, your ankle found purchase around his and pushed him onto the ground as you clambered away and into his closet, probably to find a shirt to change into.

He was left there on his bedroom floor, listening to your ramblings about his sweat, almost deliriously happy.

He was satisfied, no longer a starving man.

──────────────────

After the food was finished (thanks to the two of you), the four of you walked out of the restaurant, the couple saying they were so full they wanted to walk it off on the way to their hotel. They offered for the two of you to join them but you declined, saying the hotel was in the opposite direction of your home.

Your cousin felt uneasy leaving you to walk home on your own. But you pointed at Jihoon with your thumb and said, “Jihoonie can walk me home, if you’re so worried. But even if he can’t, I’ve lived here long enough. This isn’t anything new.”

As if your cousin completely ignored the latter half of what you said, he glanced at Jihoon who gave a quick nod. “I’ll walk her home. Don’t worry. Then I’ll take a taxi back myself.”

After much long-winded convincing, the two headed off to the hotel while you and him were left walking down the street, his own face masked up and covered with a baseball hat in case of anything.

“You know, you don’t have to walk me home.”

“I’d like to, if that’s alright with you.”

He noticed you adjusting the hem of your shirt. “Okay. It’s a little bit of a walk from here. Maybe 30 to 40 minutes or so.”

“That’s 30 to 40 minutes I’d like to spend with you.”

“…yeah. I’d like that too.”

This felt almost surreal. You by his side.

But also so natural, almost inevitable.

As if this was all just waiting to happen.

After a moment’s pause, you asked him what he was doing for the coming months, if there were any plans.

“There’s a concert that Bumzu’s holding in Busan, and he’s asking some SEVENTEEN members to perform, so I’ll be doing a solo piece for that one.”

“Oh, SIMPLE?”

You immediately made a face as if you got caught admitting something embarrassing and Jihoon grinned. “Ah, you know my solo song?”

“Hm. Maybe…” You trailed off, looking everywhere but at him.

Cute.

“It might’ve possibly made it as my top song of the year in 2016.”

Agh, even cuter. “I’ll tell Yoon Jeonghan that he’s not actually your bias and you’re actually a Woozidan.”

“You can call me a Woozidan, you’d just be exceedingly and astronomically incorrect, like always. Unlike me, who is right, quite literally 100% of the time.”

Jihoon laughed. “Hey, I’ll have you know I’m one of the brains in SEVENTEEN, alright?”

“That’s because you were forged in the fire that was your friendship with me. Of having to deal with my illogical thinking.”

“Ain’t that the damn truth.”

The mood between the two of you was solid and Jihoon felt his resolve flare up within him, gathering the courage to ask, “If I invited you to Bumzu’s concert, would you go?”

“Oh. The one in Busan?”

“Yes.”

“Uh. When is it? I’m supposed to start work in three weeks.”

He wondered how big of a Carat you were because he knew that most would jump at the opportunity, but he felt oddly reassured that you weren’t a fan who would shirk on your responsibilities. “It’s in two weeks. You can… uh, bring Hyejin?”

You blinked up at him. “You know her?”

“She, uh, is always on your Instagram.”

“That’s very sweet of you and she’s gonna freak out that you know her, but she’s actually going to be in Jeonju that entire week with Wheein-unnie because they’re visiting their family. And then none of my other friends know about me knowing you. But. You know what? What kind of Carat would I be if I turned down this offer?”

Great minds think alike. “So… I’ll see you there?”

“Yeah. Yeah, you will. I’ll sing the chorus of SIMPLE so loud I’ll overpower even your vocals.”

“You know, I never said I was singing SIMPLE.”

“Oh, what? What are you singing then?”

Jihoon grinned. “Guess you’ll have to come and find out.”

You let out a low whistle. “Wow, what an idol. Using your charm to convince me to use up my time and money.”

“You think I’m charming?”

“Enough that my wallet is in constant danger.”

“You know, I can always give you free things.”

“It’s okay. Buying your albums and merchandise and concert tickets have been the only way I can support you. And, well, I did promise I would be your number one fan.”

“‘S alright. That’s all in the past.”

Jihoon noticed you flinching at those words. Your voice was barely above a whisper, “…Is it really all in the past? It’s not that simple, is it, Jihoonie?”

He remained silent.

So did you.

You both walked, the evening stroll accompanied only by the artificial lights of the city, the sun having long since gone to rest and the light of the moon nowhere to be found.

You reached the doorstep of your apartment and you turned back to face him. “I think… We probably have a lot to talk about. But maybe the timing is off right now. I know I need to sort myself out, if that’s okay? I’m trying to do this thing where I think before I talk instead of just diving in and regretting something, you know?”

Jihoon nodded. He was all too familiar with that.

“But I just want to let you know that I still want to be a part of your life. And we can navigate how that will look like when we’re both not caught up in living our lives. Is… is that okay?”

He wanted to cry. “More than that.”

You smiled. “I’ll see you at the concert, Jihoonie.”

“I’ll see you, firefly.”

──────────────────

After that night, he was thrown back into his and SEVENTEEN’s work. Outside of Bumzu’s concert, they were working on their next album, aiming to release it in just two months, the theme centered around a youthful infatuation blossoming into a mature love.

He wondered what you would think of it.

One night, he was in his studio with Soonyoung again who looked over Jihoon’s latest solo for Bumzu’s concert.

“Jihoon, this is the saddest shit I’ve ever read.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Are you sure that this is what you’re wanting to perform? That this is what you want her to hear? In front of hundreds of people?”

“It’s… the most honest I can be. Yeah, it could scare her off. But I don’t think we can keep moving forward without addressing what happened between us. But I didn’t make this song to make her feel bad. I made it so I could let go of the pain I associate with the old her to be able to make space for the new her, you know what I mean?”

Soonyoung spared no expression. “Whatever you think is best, Hoon.”

“I’m just going to take a leap of faith,” Jihoon sighed. There really was no predicting exactly how things would turn out. You were different, he was different. There were too many unknown variables with the situation. “Hopefully she’ll be there to catch me.”

“Mm.”

“What’s up?”

“I’m thinking about how you’re going to be singing a ballad, pouring your true and genuine feelings, and I’ll be performing Hurricane in a tiger print shirt.”

Jihoon paused for a moment. “Duality of SEVENTEEN.”

──────────────────

You must have also been busy, as the only notification he got from you was on the day of the concert. It was a selfie of you at a gas station in the wee hours of the morning, no doubt filling your tank before your 4 and a half hour car ride, with a message saying, “i’m on my way to you! fueled by overpriced gas and cheap snacks!”

You were on your way. To him.

There was an electricity that was coursing through him that went beyond just nerves before a show. No, there was so much more riding on this, and as much as he wants to believe and trust that everything would work out in some way or another, there is the deep part of him that yearns for it to work out for the best. The most ideal cut.

He pressed his hands against his chest, as he tried to mimic compression.

But there was just too much bursting out of him to truly contain.

“Jihoon-ah, you alright?”

He must have looked like a crazed man to Jeonghan because the latter had an incredulous look on his face as soon as they made eye contact. “Do I not seem alright?”

“No.”

“Hyung.”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle and moved behind him to squeeze the shoulders of the stressed man. “It’s okay to hope, you know.”

“It feels like hope is the reason I can’t breathe right now. If it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t care this much. If it weren’t for hope, I wouldn’t be in this position.”

“You’re right. You wouldn’t be. Without hope, you wouldn’t be in SEVENTEEN. You wouldn't have become an idol, be our unit’s leader, become a producer, written songs, or even had the chance to reconcile with her. All of what you are would’ve been impossible without hope”

Jihoon bit his lip. “I feel like I’m going crazy, hyung. I keep going back and forth between whether it’s worth it. I haven’t felt anxiety like this in years. I know that lo–love–” Jihoon realized he never said that word so directly about her. He always found more poetic ways to dance around the word. “–can be a lot of work. But this? It makes me think that it’s not meant to be. When I see her and when I’m with her, it feels so right. But when she’s not in front of me, I feel like the best thing to do is to just run away.”

“Yeah, but you ran away last time, right?”

“And I wouldn’t be in SEVENTEEN if I hadn’t.”

“But you’ve still pined after her for all these years.”

“Maybe that’s just me being stubborn.”

“Yeah, and? What about it?”

“What happens if I’m pining after her because I regret hurting someone I cared about, my best friend. What if I don’t actually love her–”

Jihoon’s voice caught in his throat.

Jeonghan answered in a low whisper, and Jihoon is sure that if he turned around, he would see pity in his older member’s eyes. “Jihoon–”

“No, I know,” he quickly cut him off, sighing. “Ridiculous notion. Hyung, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I don’t understand myself at all. Just yesterday, I was talking a big game about how I needed to trust her and take a leap of faith and now it feels like I’m going back on it.”

“So, you don’t trust her?”

“That’s… not it.”

“Then what is it, Jihoon?”

“I… I can’t…”

“It’s just you and me here.”

Lee Jihoon and Yoon Jeonghan.

The very two people who were in that room together when that fateful encounter on social media occurred.

Yoon Jeonghan, the island of SEVENTEEN.

“What if she doesn’t love me back?”

Jeonghan felt Jihoon’s shoulders tremble underneath his grip. The older began to rub gentle circles and stood there in silence as the younger buried his face in his hands. “...She could.”

“What if she doesn’t?”

“What if she does?”

“That’s not–”

“–How it works? Why are your worries more likely than your hope? Are they more logical? More based in reality? Listen, they’re all just thoughts driven by feelings. They both have an equal chance of happening, and yet you are convinced your worries are true. And maybe that’s your fault. Your fault because you keep suppressing your hope in fear of pain and rejection. So that later down the line, you can tell yourself that you knew it anyway. But guess what? This isn’t a game where you’re trying to come out of this as the least hurt.”

Jihoon felt lucky that Jeonghan couldn’t see his face.

“Just think of it as finally being able to let out the entire truth that you’ve been hiding for years, the truth that has been found in your lyrics, but is now finally going to reach the person you’ve hoped for so long that it would. She’ll be right there, listening to you. You’ve wanted it for so long. Don’t try to convince yourself all of a sudden that it’s not.”

“...Yeah.”

“Plus, they already have the line-up and backing vocals set up, so. It’s not like you can change it now. Go put your in-ear in. We’ll be in the audience. All of us.”

“Thanks, hyung.”

“...I’m not sure if it means anything, but you’re a good man, Lee Jihoon. I’m proud of you.”

Jeonghan patted the younger’s shoulder before exiting the small space, leaving Jihoon to his own thoughts. Ones that no longer swirled over the possibility of pain or even the potential of reciprocation. Instead, he thought about his members. The ones he’s told he’s loved, both in teasing ways and genuine utterances.

And then he thought of you.

He’d like you to hear the same from him.

At least once.

(And hopefully more.)

──────────────────

Busan’s driving laws were nothing like the rest of Korea.

Luckily growing up in Busan, you were aware of the way that the drivers swerved in and out of lanes, making illegal (?) turns any chance they got. The flow of traffic in Busan is so aggressively different from Seoul, that it felt as though you had to flip a switch to reorient yourself into the version of you that learned how to first drive in Busan.

Not long after the person you were driving to see had stormed out of your home.

You sighed.

You weren’t sure what to expect at the concert.

It felt almost embarrassing how much you daydreamed over him potentially singing a song to you. The reality is dangerously close to overlapping with the delusion that you found yourself trying to literally shake away the thoughts.

But how could you not be a little hopeful?

The love of your life invited you to a concert, with him singing a solo song.

Maybe he’d confess–

The honk of the car behind you pulled you out of your thoughts. You groaned loudly, slapping your forehead. “Get it together, Y/N!”

Jihoon had told you to enter the concert hall through a certain entrance, and that you wouldn’t need to wait amongst the lines. He recommended waiting until everyone else was seated, so you would still have 20 minutes to kill before entering the venue.

You drove, mentally fighting yourself every kilometer of the way, until you finally reached the venue. You showed the badge that Jihoon had given you and was directed towards the back lot where staff parked. You cut the engine and sat there, attempting to calm yourself down.

You immediately get a request for FaceTime on your phone.

You answer it.

“Bumblebee!”

“Unnie, I can feel myself eroding away.”

Hyejin rolled her eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

You heard Wheein’s voice in the background. “Is that Y/N?”

Hyejin answered, “Yeah. Wanna say something?”

Wheein popped into frame. You gave a weak wave. “Are you gonna confess today?”

“What? No. That wasn’t in the plan.”

“Okay? Then change the plan,” Wheein said, as though it was the most obvious thing.

“I just want to be friends.”

“Forever?” Wheein asked.

“For now,” Hyejin supplied.

You rolled your eyes. “Listen. All I know is that I want to be in his life, and whatever that looks like is still to be determined, alright?”

“But what do you want in the long run?”

“You know I can’t plan for the long-term. Let’s just take things day by day, alright?”

“Okay, but what if he confesses today?” Wheein asked.

“He won’t.”

“What if he does?”

“I–”

Hyejin tapped Wheein’s thigh off-camera. “She’ll handle it if it comes up. No matter what happens, we’ll be here to pick up your call, okay? Whether it be to sort out your feelings or to just fangirl about the concert. We’ll be here to listen to whatever you’re willing to share. There’s not much to do here in Jeonju anyway, so. Just hit us up.”

“Go eat Jeonju bibimbap.”

“We did,” they answered in unison.

You let out a short laugh. “Alright. Well. Regardless of everything, time will continue to pass. I’m going to just bask in the fact that I was invited by a member of my favorite idol group to watch his performance.”

“And that’s already cool as hell,” Wheein nodded.

The three of you chatted about their plans for the week while you did your best to focus on the conversation while still paying attention to the time left until the concert. Not long after, you bid them farewell to once again sit in silence in your car, pressing your hands against your chest.

It was time.

──────────────────

Bumzu’s concert started off as nothing less than spectacular.

You always admired his musical prowess, knowing that he was the one who helped Jihoon form his own identity as a producer and songwriter. Bumzu was a titan in his own right, his lyricism and musicality rivaling plenty of others in the field.

Although his talent is impeccable, the venue itself was small. His transition from performing towards writing and producing had a hand in influencing the number of tickets sold. You also realized belatedly that the concert wasn’t advertised to include the SEVENTEEN members that you were promised.

Regardless, it felt like such an intimate space, you were thankful for it.

You were in the upper gallery, away from the rest of the concert attendees. There wasn’t anyone else nearby you, and you assumed that would stay the case.

That is, until you heard someone sit right next to you.

You glanced over, not wanting to be overt in noticing them (although, Korean culture lends itself to staring at others outside of Seoul and Busan), and you felt your breath hitch.

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“I–yeah.”

“I recorded a video for you for your graduation,” the most beautifully ethereal man on this side of existence said. “Do you remember?”

“I–yeah.”

He flashed a brilliant grin. “Yoon Jeonghan.”

“I–yeah.”

“Congratulations on graduating.”

“I–” This time, his voice overlapped yours. “Yeah.”

You flushed. “Sorry. I’m just– I’m kind of taken aback.”

“I heard I was your favorite member, your bias.”

“Mm. That’s true.”

“Why is that the case?”

You paused for a moment, the vocals of Bumzu drowning out the sounds of your conversation. “They say that your bias is the one who’s most similar to you. And your bias wrecker is the one that you’d most likely want to date or be romantically involved with.”

“Oh, so, we’re similar?”

“In the way that we love others, I think? From what other members have said about you, the way that you love is both wide and deep. You love others in a way where you can be a home for them during times of hardship,” you said, sheepishly. It felt almost strange to claim you were as loving as you were, but. You knew yourself. You knew your heart. Even the bad parts. “Also, we both would cheat at games.”

“It’s the only way to play.”

“Winning is too easy otherwise,” you added.

“Exactly,” he chuckled. “Well. That makes me feel better.”

“That I cheat at games?”

“No. That you love in the same way that I do. Because if you love Jihoonie as much as I love him, I think I have absolutely nothing to worry about.”

“I do.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you. “I’m sorry?”

“I do love him,” you said, unhesitantly. Perhaps it wasn’t the wisest decision to tell one of Jihoon’s closest confidants this information. But, it wasn’t a secret. It wasn’t ever meant to be a secret. It was simply a fact. “There’s no way that I wouldn’t.”

“You… You haven’t doubted your feelings?”

This time you raised an eyebrow at him. “Why would I? He’s easy to love.”

Jeonghan laughed. “You’re so right, Y/N. So. Is he your bias wrecker?”

“You mean the one that I want to date?”

“The very same.”

You saw the mischief in his eyes, and you felt yours bubble up inside. “I wonder.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m surprised you cheat at games, you don’t seem like a great liar.”

“Who said I was trying to?” You flashed him a toothy grin.

“It’s rather strange to see just how different the two of you are. And also, how human you seem. The way that he talks about you, you’d think otherwise.”

“Unfortunately, being human is all I know,” you said, trying to shove down the feeling of butterflies in your stomach at the mention of Jihoon speaking of you to his precious brothers.

Bumzu was now giving a ment, but you were still so focused on the man next to you.

He crossed his legs and looked out at the stage. He pursed his lips. “Y/N. He’s a bit of a handful sometimes, you know.”

“I’ve got two hands.”

He smirked at that. “Right. That you do. And if you and I really are similar, then. Well. I hope you really listen to what he has to say to you, even if it can be hard to hear. I hope you try to understand him even when he doesn’t make sense. And, of course, I hope you enjoy the rest of your life loving him.”

You felt some tears well up in your eyes. “I’ll try my best.”

Jeonghan looked at you softly and patted your knee. “That’s all I ask.”

He stood up and you gave a slight bow. He smiled and said, “Enjoy the show.”

Bumzu’s voice rang out: “And now, a special guest: WOOZI from SEVENTEEN.”

Your eyes snapped back towards the stage, barely noticing the figure of your bias move back out into the shadows of the concert hall. You were transfixed by the man walking out on stage, his pale skin glowing underneath the stage lights, his black collared shirt hanging loosely on his frame. The cheers could not distract you from the way he gripped and ungripped the microphone in his hand as he sat down on the stool.

He lifted the microphone to his lips and began speaking.

“Hello, everyone. I am SEVENTEEN’s WOOZI.”

His eyes were darting around, but only looking downwards, barely looking at the crowd. “Today, I’m going to sing a song that I’ve only ever sang once. Um. And that was by myself, in my studio. Not even the other members have heard it.”

The crowd were wowed at the prospect of hearing an entirely new song from a genius producer. Seeing the spotlight shine on him, you realize how bare he looked without his other members surrounding him. His vulnerability was amplified by the closer proximity of the space.

You knew he was the kind of person that would lessen the amount of lines he had solely to allow others to shine more. He wasn’t like the sun, the blazing fire that consumed the day. No, he was so much more like the moon, the one that would reflect others’ light, but in such a way that was never accosting.

Even on the stage in front of you, he glowed so ethereally, you wondered if he was always the fae that you believed lived near the winding tree at Old Man Park’s home. He was the guiding light in the midst of night, always present, but in a less overt way than its celestial partner.

The sun was stunning in its own right, life-giving, even, but the moon provided comfort to those who tread in the darkness.

And you’ve seen the way he has done just that.

Not just for you, but for millions around the world.

“This is, uh. A very personal song,” you couldn’t help but notice the way that his grip around his microphone tightened. “I’m not sure if many of you out there have been unsure about what the future holds. But, this song… captures that, I think. This is ‘What Kind of Future’.”

Your reaction to grab your phone to record was immediately cut off by the piano playing.

This… melody?

Your throat tightened. It sounded so similar to the lullaby he would sing–

As if nothing happened I told myself that it was all a dream. When I closed my eyes and opened them again, I wanted to wake up with a relief.

The melody was so familiar, but because of that, you could focus solely on the lyrics he sang.

Was this song… about you?

No, your mind supplied. Don’t be delusional.

But what if it was?

Your heart began to pound loudly in your ears, and you had to take deep breaths so as to not miss anything that he had to say.

Our past that didn't line up If I could go back in time Rather than roughly, but warmly Would I be able to let you go?

Your eyes widened.

You thought back to that moment in your house.

Could it be–?

When we weren't over As I held onto whatever was left You let go of me as I refused Although I don't wanna see you, I miss you Although I hate you, I miss you I don't understand myself so well

You immediately recall the desperation on his face and the hurt in his voice that you couldn’t see until it was too late. It was shrouded by his anger and your desire to look away. To run away. Because, to a teen on the cusp of adulthood, that was easier than being honest.

This waiting It's not easy to endure If I forget that someday As if nothing is wrong Our future will be empty and It's not that I want to forget you

You never wanted to forget him.

You couldn’t.

He surrounded you at every turn.

The best parts of you were things that you learned from him.

He softened your rough edges, quieted the inner criticisms, pacified the burning flames.

The idea of him never being a part of your life again was one that you could not fathom, even with all of your imagination. Because there was no way for the current you to exist without him. Not in a way that deemed him necessary, but in a way that his friendship, his love, for you shaped you into becoming someone you, yourself, learned to love as well.

Your future might have been filled with joy and happiness.

His, just as likely to.

But yours and his, as he said, our future, would be empty.

We were happy about us You, who isn't me anymore Although I don't wanna see you, I miss you Although I hate you, I miss you I don't understand myself so well

You tried to quell your tears as much as you could, in fear of missing even another moment with him. Because you realize now that the feelings you had were not one-sided. Of course, they couldn’t have been. The way that the two of you stuck by each other through thick and thin.

Why were you so adamant that it couldn’t be true?

What kind of future is coming before us? Even if the Heavens don't give us an answer I'm too stupid until the end So I don't know the answer

The love you had for each other was so simple.

It was so direct, so straight-forward.

But the two of you made it complicated.

Why?

You also didn’t have an answer.

The both of you, burdened by the decisions of the past, anxious about the potential of the future.

As his vocals rang out, as he cried out, the tears finally streamed down your warm cheeks. You buried your face into your hands, listening to his voice, but unable to withstand the sight of him holding his microphone with such gentle, yet firm, hands. The same ones that trembled at his side that fateful day. Your breath staggered as you wept for the past versions of you.

The ones who struggled and constantly questioned whether you were loved by the person you longed for. The ones who somehow convinced themselves that you weren’t, rather than trusting in the obvious truth that you always had been.

And still are.

As the song concluded with his smooth vocals, the crowd erupted into cheers. You raised your head and found him looking longingly up in your direction, and if you weren’t mistaken, at you.

But how could he?

The stage lights were so bright, you were sure it was impossible to see beyond the stage.

But with the way his gaze softened as your bottom lip trembled.

Maybe, just maybe.

As soon as the crowd settled down to a reasonable level, he began speaking again. “Thank you all for attending tonight. Bumzu-hyung is an artist that I admire a lot, so I feel really honored that I was able to share my music here. This song is… both personal and special. And I hope that, maybe, someone out there can understand what I was trying to convey.

“Carats, thank you always for your support. Remember to stay healthy; I’m always wishing for your happiness. We hope that you continue to love and support SEVENTEEN. I’m always humbled by Carat’s love for us, and I really wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”

He began to fiddle with the microphone in his hands.

“Did you know that…” He trailed off for a moment before he glanced up in your direction. Your breath hitched. “...If you dream of fireflies, they’re supposed to represent guidance and inspiration? Because they’re kind of like a beacon of light in the dark. And according to some, they’re also meant to represent taking a chance at an opportunity that’s right in front of you. And I, uh. I’ve been dreaming of fireflies for a long time. So, I think… that means that it’s time to try and take that chance. I’m not sure what it’ll look like, but…”

He shut his eyes for a moment, tilting his head backwards, looking as though he was allowing the weight of his words to really sink into him. He brought the microphone back up to his lips.

“Thank you again. I hope our future together is one of happiness.”

He gave a slight bow to the audience who cheered loudly for him. He, once again, looked up in your direction. You weren’t sure whether he could see your expression, so instead you lifted your phone screen at its highest brightness, open to the phone dial screen.

If he gave any semblance of acknowledgement, it was imperceptible.

Bumzu was welcomed back to the stage and squeezed Jihoon’s shoulder before the latter excused himself off of the stage.

Almost possessed, you followed suit, leaving the upper gallery to rush towards the restroom, out of earshot and view of anyone else.

Not even a minute later, your phone starts vibrating.

You answer immediately. “That was fast.”

“We’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”

“Are you… running? You sound like you’re out of breath.”

“Meet me outside. Staff parking lot.”

“I–”

“Security cleared it out.”

“Jihoon, I’m not fit like you! I’m not a runner.”

“I’m not asking you to be. I’ll wait for you as long as you need.”

Your heart swelled. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“I’ll see you soon, firefly.”

The sound of his smile filled your senses as the call ended.

Despite your complaints earlier, your feet were carrying you at a pace you haven’t attempted since your required physical education class. Your eyes were darting around, searching, searching, searching. The adrenaline rushing through your body was enough to keep up your strides. You were rushing forward, and then–

You saw him.

He pushed his hair back, his chest rising up and down, attempting to catch his breath. He was definitely winded from the running. But there was no rest for the weary as your eyes locked. You found yourself barreling forward, not even really thinking of anything other than: him.

And his arms caught you with ease as you slammed yourself into his chest. He spun you around to lessen the impact, but tightened his grip on you. “Firefly–”

“Jihoonie.”

You held each other for a while.

Long enough for both of your breathing to even, for your heart rates to synchronize.

As though making up for lost time.

He adjusted his face just slightly away from the crook of your neck to speak. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Anywhere you want.”

“Yeah, well. I’m the driver, so no shit.”

Jihoon laughed and squeezed you closer to him. You let out a grunt. “You call the shots, firefly.”

You disentangled yourself from him and pulled out your car keys from your person. “Alright, get in, my passenger prince. Let’s take a trip down memory lane, hm?”

──────────────────

“Hi! My name is Y/N. Here’s a seashell!”

The young boy’s expression contorted into one of confusion. You were completely unaffected. He looked around at the empty playground, save for a few pigeons here and there, before pointing to himself. “Are you talking to me?”

You knew for a fact that he was someone that the CU convenience store auntie would call a ‘cutie’. You’d agree! “I’d like to!”

“I’m… I’m Lee Jihoon.”

“Okay, Jihoon! Can we be friends?”

“S-Sure.”

“Awesome!” You clapped your hands together. “I don’t really know what friends do together, but let’s go on the swings! You can sit first and I’ll push you. I’m very strong.”

“No, it’s okay! I can push you—”

“You don’t think I’m strong enough?”

“No, no. That’s not what I said—”

“Get on the swing, Lee Jihoon!”

“O-Okay.”

──────────────────

“Do you remember when I pushed you on the swing so hard that you lurched forward and got a nosebleed from falling onto your face?”

“That was the first day we met, firefly.”

“Well, I wanted to know if you remembered.”

“To the point that it haunts me.”

“You were so small and cute back then. So shy.”

You half expected that the two of you were going to drive in silence, just basking in each other’s presence. But, remaining true to the dynamic you two always had, there was still so much to talk about. You told him about the drive down from Seoul and how Busan really needed to up its driving laws to match the rest of the country. He told you about how Soonyoung just finished performing “Hurricane” on stage and Jeonghan sent him the video.

You told him about how Jeonghan actually approached you.

“Aha.”

You couldn’t turn to see his expression, so you asked, “Why? Is that a bad thing?”

“He, uh. Might’ve witnessed me have a bit of a mental breakdown backstage, so.”

You took his nervous laughter as a sign to not push further. “Honestly, me on any given Tuesday.”

“What, your grad program?”

“Oh, man, I gotta tell you.”

And so the two of you exchanged both stories and banter until you finally saw the shoreline coming into view. Just a couple of moments later, you parked your car along the sidewalk at the edge of the beach. This was a more local area, far away from tourist spots.

“Ah, this place.”

“Lotta memories here,” you said. You shot him a big smile as you turned off the engine. “Let’s go make a new one.”

The two of you exited your car and threw your socks and shoes into the trunk of your car, just like you did with his parents’ car, when you were children.

As you both walked towards the edge of the water, you were very aware of the silence that had fallen onto the two of you.

There was an instinct in you that told you to remain quiet.

“You know,” Jihoon broke the silence. You smiled to yourself. “I’ve always admired how you were able to be so honest about your feelings, without worrying about what other people think.”

“That’s the nice way of saying that I don’t think before I speak.”

He laughed and you relished in it. “Maybe.”

You skipped forward a bit more, letting your toes dig into the now cooled sand, the sun long set. You had your back turned to him as you waited for him to continue speaking.

“I was always someone who kept to himself. Who never really shared my heart with anyone.”

You hummed as you turned to face him directly. “You did in your own way, I think. You just needed people who knew how to read between the lines.”

“I was never honest about the hard stuff though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I constantly asked myself if I was worthy enough to love you.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but he continued.

“You loved me in such loud ways. You honestly left no room for doubt, and yet my brain managed to squeeze in some anyway. But… you know what I eventually realized?”

“What?”

“I realized that if I were to give myself to anyone, to be safe with anyone in the world, it would be okay if it was you. You’ve always been honest. Your sadness. Your joy. I know I can trust it. Maybe that’s naive considering how long we’ve spent apart. But you’ve never been anything but honest. So this is me trying to do the same. Y/N, my light, my firefly, I love you.”

In his eyes you saw him searching for something, anything. He might’ve not been able to interpret the expression on your face, but there was no need to. You pulled the collar of your shirt down to reveal the ink forever etched into your skin, placed over your heart.

Art that was drawn on a paper towel a decade ago.

You knew even in the dim light of the street lamps high above you, he could see it.

His jaw dropped. “Wait. That’s—”

“I broke one promise in my life. Just one. And I told myself I would never do it again. No matter how stupid the promises were, no matter how mundane, no matter how old they were. I would never break another promise. Because breaking that one promise ended up breaking me. The promise that I’d always be by your side.”

“What are you—?”

“Because it’s you, it’s always been you. Ever since I gave you that stupid seashell from this very beach,” you gestured at your surroundings. “And it was stupid because you could easily get your own, but you kept it. Like it was a precious treasure.”

The rampant beating in your chest matched the rhythm of your words.

“I don’t know what the future holds, Jihoon. I have no idea and I’m terrified. I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know anything. Years at Yale, years at Seoul National, years spent in higher academia only taught me that I know so little. But you, oh, you were the worst reminder. I don’t get how you can make me feel so empty and filled at the same time. I don’t understand how you can make me feel at home with just a smile. I don’t know how you have such a hold on me. You’re just this strange enigma that I can’t seem to place, a riddle with no way to solve. But God, I so badly want to try. You’re a question I want to spend the rest of my life trying to answer. Because it’s you.”

He bit his lip and you wondered if you overwhelmed him.

“I’ve spent years, you know,” his voice barely above a whisper.

“Doing what?”

“Hoping that you would hear me. That my words would reach you,” he breathed out. His eyes softened as he recalled, “‘If a second life that’s different from now is to come to me, will I be by your side? Will you be by my side? I imagine things like this. Even if they’re words I mentioned as a joke. Will you believe me? Even if it’s a funny imagination. On a sudden day when I’m left alone, I’ll take my steps towards you again.’”

He stepped forward, hands reaching for yours, and you immediately took them, as soon as he was an arm’s length away. Physically, this wasn’t the closest he’s ever been, but it was the closest you’ve ever felt.

“‘You did this once before. Only by looking in your eyes I can tell. Whatever may happen, I want to know this emotion. When walking by my side, I don’t even want to let go of your hands. That flattering feeling is because of you, everything is so good.’”

He took another step forward, his voice dropped to barely above a whisper, hoping you could hear his words above his heart hammering in his chest.

“‘What can I do? Without you, my heart stops and it’s always cold. What can we do? Without me, you’ll struggle just as much, so what can we do?’” He paused, before recalling later lyrics. “‘I don’t wanna let you go like this. I don’t want to be scared with a broken heart. I’m the place you can come to. You’re the place I can go to.”

Tears formed in your eyes, but he brushed them away easily, now cupping your face within his hands, the tips of your noses brushing against each other, and you could have sworn he felt the fluttering of your eyelashes against him, dampened slightly by your watery eyes.

“‘I couldn’t express my feelings because I was too young. I wanted to be your tomorrow, so I lived today. Ever since the first day I saw you. In my heart, it’s always been you. These typical words, I’m only saying them now, but I hope these typical words will reach you.’”

You looked at him, your entire being filled and your senses flooded.

With him.

It was only him, him, him.

How could you not have realized?

His words, his feelings were so clear.

He had the kind of love for you that brings forth a melody.

His gentle voice drew you away from your own thoughts, “Thank you, firefly. For choosing me.”

“Always, Jihoonie. Always.”

He leaned in to close the distance.

You met him halfway.

──────────────────

Your hands were intertwined with his as you swung them lightly, back and forth, ebbing and flowing, like the waves almost reaching your feet on the coastline of the local beach where you would laze away during your adolescence and find adventure during your childhood.

The two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, the sounds of the ocean and lull of the town around you, just basking in what felt like the stars finally aligning.

Jihoon squeezed your hand for a moment. “You know, I thought you left because you realized that I had feelings for you and didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“I’m sorry, what?” You stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, still not letting go of his hand, the sea breeze weaving itself between his and your hair.

He raised an eyebrow. “I thought I was pretty obvious. Hyung and noona thought the same. They figured it out pretty early on.”

“Um.”

He blinked. “You had no idea?”

“I—I thought you were in love with noona—”

“Hey, I might’ve thought she was pretty, but you were the one that turned that into something it wasn’t.”

“What! What about the times we went to try and find out whether the mini golf place was fun enough for a date idea? Or whether the food stand near the beach was romantic enough?”

“Please tell me you’re hearing yourself.”

“I’m—”

“Jesus, firefly. Are you serious? Did I end up ever taking her there? Did I even try? All of those places, all of those times, those were meant for you. You were the one who kept bringing up noona and what she would like while I was trying to figure out whether it would’ve been weird to reach out and hold your hand.” His grip tightened on yours.

You flushed at that. “Okay, but like—you spent so much time with noona before I left.”

“Because she was trying to help me plan something to get it through your thick skull just how in love I was because obviously none of the other things I did was enough.”

“I—you—she’s better than me.”

“I just confessed that I was in love with you, and you’re focusing on her right now?”

You blabbered out incoherent sounds and he merely laughed in your face at your reaction.

(Or maybe at himself.)

“Dozens of songs of writing my feelings for you into the lyrics, and you still didn’t get it. So. I’ll try and say it as clearly as possible. I love you, Y/N. What can I do to get you to notice me? Because I’ll do it, firefly. I swear I will.”

You bit your lip.

“I got my driver’s license.”

He wasn’t expecting that. “Uh… recently?”

“No. A month after you left, a month before I did. I got my driver’s license and I so badly wanted to call you to tell you. Because we talked about late night diner specials and how uncrowded the park was at six in the morning and you said I’d be your chauffeur forever.”

“Yeah, why should I have to learn?”

“Jihoon.”

“I’m doing alright without one, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes, but continued, “I drove around the neighborhood several times, passing by the mailboxes we used to Sharpie, the stop signs we tried to run up and slap, the sidewalks we crossed after hagwon, the sewer where we were convinced a clown lived.”

“That was a you thing, don’t drag me into it.”

“And I realized that none of it mattered if you weren’t in the passenger seat.”

“So, what are you saying? That I’m just good company?”

You eyed him and knew he was teasing, but there was a hint of insecurity underneath it. Because he said those words you had yet to acknowledge, let alone, respond to. The corner of your lips upturned. “Yeah, that’s it. And if it’s alright with you, I’d like to be in said company for at least one lifetime. I love you, Lee Jihoon.”

“You’re missing the ‘too,’ since I said it first.”

“You’re annoying.”

“It’s been one of the only ways to get you to look at me, firefly.”

“Mm. I’m always looking.”

“Respectfully?”

“Most times. Have you seen the ‘Good to Me’ choreo?”

He bumped your shoulder as you burst into a fit of giggles, choosing to let go of his hand to wrap your arms around his waist as he pretended to stomp off. He stuck his tongue out at you, calling you a pervert, and you said, “Hey, you’re the one that’s in love with me, alright?”

He swept you up into his arms and rather than carrying you princess-style or even in a piggy-back ride, he threw you over his shoulder and you yelped loudly.

“Jihoon!”

“Y/N!”

“Let me go!”

“Nope. Never again.”

You made a gagging noise. Who is this shameless kid?

“I’ll put you down though, my shoulder hurts.”

You smacked it once you were on your own two feet and ran as much as you could with the weight of your feet sinking into the wet sand with each step. He quickly closed the distance between the two of you and tackled you to the ground. You fell back, with his hand behind your head, ensuring no damage to your person. You giggled up at him.

The edge of the waves were mere centimeters from you, but seeing him against the endless night sky, with glittering stars, him, your moon, you could not bring yourself to care.

You had so many questions you wanted to ask him, about his life as an idol, about his pursuits and his struggles and his hopes and his dreams. You were so excited to fall in love with him again. You hoped that he would be just as excited to love the person that you’ve become, the one that is so wholly you, but has been transformed by him.

Leaving things left unsaid was a burden the two of you beared for far too many years, believing that you deserved the painful yearning of each other, to make up for the choices made as teenagers.

You breathed in the salt of the sea, as you thought about how, years ago, you were in the same city, letting this very person walk away from you. Shame washed over you, as it has for years, like the waves that were ebbing and flowing right beside you, and tears began to form in your eyes. It was almost embarrassing, how easily you let him slip away. He deserved so much.

“I’m a lot,” you choked out.

He smiled softly as he cupped your face gently, not moving to brush away tears that were threatening to fall. He simply held you, wordlessly accepting all that you were.

“Never too much, and always enough, firefly.”

You wanted to thank whatever higher power was out there.

Whatever one compelled Jihoon to search your Instagram page and accidentally like a post from years ago, a notification that could have been swiped away accidentally in the middle of the night by a bleary-eyed and half-awake you.

Because what kind of future would’ve come otherwise?

Would you have reconnected in some other way, more purposeful and intentional?

Or would you have convinced yourselves that living apart was something that was inevitable and it was better to have simply let the past be the past?

Or would you have yearned for each other in ways that even the potential of running into each other would lead to an eruption of nerves?

You breathed in slowly as you wrapped your arms around his middle, breathing him in, letting his heartbeat drown out even the sound of the crashing ocean beside you.

It didn’t really matter.

This future will be one that you build.

Together.

[끝.]

70 notes · View notes

stllite · 11 months

Text

hyunjin hc's ✧˚ · .

hwang hyunjin x gn!reader

word count 680

authors note i've had this in my drafts for a bit and thought i would post it until i wrote another fic...hope you enjoy! i love hyune sm <33

you both appreciate the little things soooo much! if the moon looks pretty one night or there’s a pretty sunset, either one of you is tapping each other on the shoulder excitedly and pointing at the sight.

picturessss! he loves taking pictures of you and does it a lot when you don’t even notice. personally, those are his favorite! you’ll be looking over the pictures he took of that day and see one of you and point at it. “when did you take this?” “oh, when we were at the lake. you looked so pretty i couldn’t help it.” you’ll definitely be blushing so hard.

you guys have the best dates! you love just taking walks with each other, trying new restaurants, going to different museums, or just driving around listening to music. you both love exploring new places with each other.

while you guys love exploring, you also love staying in. just being around each other is enough for the both of you. your favorite pastime together is usually when he’s painting with soft music in the background. you sit beside him and write in your journal or read a book. it’s calming and comforting and you both love it.

speaking of painting, you’re his biggest inspiration. if he’s not painting you exactly, he’s painting things that remind him of you. whether that’s a sunset you both saw together that you were geeking over, a bookstore he saw that reminded him of you, or even small little details about you. nevertheless, you’re his muse.

if you can't make it to one of his shows, he usually facetimes beforehand and talks to you for a little bit to calm his nerves down. but if you can make it to one of his shows he’s with you backstage almost the whole time. the boys tease him for it but you calm him down and keep him at ease.

one cute thing you love about your relationship is when you travel with him on a plane, train, or car! you two share headphones and listen to the playlist you two made together. and when you’re both dozing off, you rest your heads on each other's shoulders. the cutest thing fr!

he lovesssss animals, especially your dog! him and your dog are besties and tbh it gets you kind of jealous that your dog likes hyunjin more than you. butttt kkami is all over you when you’re over at hyunjin’s so it’s a win win.

if you guys are apart for a while, he’ll send you songs that remind him of you and send you some of the drawings and paintings he did. he’ll text you good morning and good night and tries to fit a facetime call if he can. even if it’s a short one, he just loves hearing your voice.

he loves his cuddles! he likes laying his head on your chest and lovessss when you play with his hair. but, he also loves wrapping his arms around you and holding you so so close. he honestly never wants to let go.

baking! you two are adventurous when it comes to trying new things so you bake and cook a lot of goodies (usually late at night) when you’re bored. sometimes, felix will even join in! and when you guys are done with baking you’re goodies, you usually share them with the boys and get their opinion. (they love it every time)

speaking of the boys, they are like brothers to you! it makes hyunjin so happy to know you get along super well with his best friends. all of you are super important to him!

late night convosssss! you two are best friends before anything so you two rant to each other a lot or get into deep conversations about random things.

overall, you two have such a pure and genuine relationship. he loves you and you love him and you two are sure to remind each other any time and any way you can!

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin skz #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #stray kids #skz #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz imagines #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #hwang hyujin imagines #hyunjin fluff #skz fluff #hyunjin fic

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stargirlfics · 2 years

Text

The Gentleman

Alfred Pennyworth x Black Dancer!Reader

Series Summary: Two chance encounters turn into something quite unexpected the longer you spend around a certain Englishman

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, set after the events of The Batman film, age gap - reader is mid/late 20’s or 30’s (up to your preference), mentions of stalking/being followed, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn kinda vibe this chapter

Word Count: 6.2k

Note: The first chapter is finally here! Andy Serkis as Alfred lives rent free in my head tbh and this idea has been too, I’m having so much fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it also!

[series masterlist] [series playlist]

Gotham’s misty autumn air felt cool against your cheeks, your heels clicking against the pavement as you set a brisk pace, the city beginning to wake, morning sun just barely cutting through the cloudy skies.

Fatigue crowded at the edges of your eyes, it had been a long night and you looked forward to a warm shower and your bed, hoping to finally rest.

Rehearsals began later today for you and some of the other girls at the Iceberg Lounge and you knew your window to get some proper rest was entirely too narrow but you’d just have to manage.

You’d have been home hours ago if you had just kept your mouth shut.

He didn’t like when the girls got smart with him but his sleazy ego was far too big and you had scoffed at his comments about how this city was gonna be his one day soon, earning you the honor of doing all the club’s closing duties and bar clean up for the night.

It had been amusing in the moment but you knew it was more than true that Oz had his fingers in many a shady pocket, a chill running through your chest at the thought of him having any kind of control over the city.

His reputation as a gangster was no secret.

Especially in the near year it had been since all those chilling riddles, the murders, since the unraveling of lies about the elite in Gotham and that terrible flood. The element had shifted, had given an opportunity for men like Cobblepot to step into the spotlight.

But despite that, life was just starting to have some semblance of stability again.

The temporary repairs made to the sea wall were undergoing construction for something more permanent, the last few neighborhoods that had been underwater were salvaged and being rebuilt, the displaced finally starting to find their footing again.

Not everything was whole again but things were certainly on the mend.

You pulled your coat tighter around yourself, debating on whether it was worth it to wait the extra ten minutes for your favorite café to open or just head straight for the subway home, your train of thought abruptly ended by the quick pace of heavy footsteps rushing closer from behind you, a sense of dread spiking you instinctively.

It didn’t take you long to feel sure you were being followed, trying and failing to keep your breathing even as you gave a discreet glance to your side, fear numbing your cheeks at the hulking figure of a man creeping close behind you in your peripheral.

The pace of your own steps picked up as you settled on the best course of action.

Closer in distance to where you were now was the subway entrance but you didn’t take comfort in being followed underground a little too long before all the platforms would fill with people headed to work.

The café would take you a couple minutes more to get to but there was always a line outside the building this time of morning and you felt safer knowing whoever was following you probably wouldn’t try anything with a handful of witnesses around.

It looked like you were getting a coffee after all.

Adrenaline and a sense of panicked determination pushed your feet to carry you faster, still glancing to your side every minute to gauge how far away this person was, preparing to start running should he get too close for comfort. He was already too close for comfort as it was.

Winding around a couple streets later, you took a deep breath as the familiar coffee spot came into view, a tinge of relief easing the tension in your stomach at the line of people formed by the doors just as you thought there would be.

And then, just a few feet ahead, you spotted a man getting out of a sleek Audi, rounding the back of the car, and stepping up onto the sidewalk in the direction of the café, his back turned as he stopped to pay the meter.

A sudden idea sprang to mind and you didn’t give yourself any time to hesitate before you were going through with it.

“Hi, honey! So sorry I’m late,” you called out loudly, rushing towards the man and before he could even turn, you slid in front of him, your back to the car, him in front of you, creating a kind of barrier.

“Please play along,” you whispered anxiously, your arms thrown around his shoulders.

The man was understandably bewildered by this but also quickly recognized the scared, wild-eyed look on your face and was reaching out to wrap an arm around your waist seconds later.

It was strange. You were shaky and scared and in the arms of a complete stranger but his calm breathing and the way his hand on the small of your back held you steady made you want to pull him closer.

You refrained, not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable than he probably already was and instead, focused on your stalker, relief extinguishing the panic when he picked up pace and ran off, your grip releasing when he slinked around the corner of the building.

“I’m so sorry about that. I was being followed for a couple of blocks and didn’t know what else to do, I-”

You took a step back, the words rushing from your mouth before you were truly getting a good look at the man before you, taking him in until your eyes reached his face and it took all but two seconds to recognize who he was.

Alfred Pennyworth.

You’d never seen him in person, just in photos or in the news whenever the occasional story about Wayne Enterprises or the anniversary of the Wayne’s deaths were talked about, stunned to be in a situation like this with Bruce Wayne’s butler? Bodyguard? Guardian?

You’d always gotten the impression he was a little more than just the family butler.

The cane in his hand, the scar splitting his left brow, and the one framing his left eye gave you indication enough.

“Oh, that’s quite alright, miss. Are you hurt at all?” his tone was concerned but gentle, with a voice like syrup, accented and smooth, leaving you scrambling to reply as his eyes scanned you hastily

“N-no, thankfully, just a little scared. But I’m okay, I appreciate this, truly. I’m so sorry to have bothered you!”

You felt awkward still standing in front of him, your brain running a mile a minute, picking up things you hadn’t noticed in your rush to explain yourself.

The hint of cologne on his collar, the perfectly trimmed cut of his beard, and neat style of his hair, the salt and pepper color of both, the glint of gold from the watch around his wrist, and his sharp and tailored attire.

Oh.

He was handsome. Attractive in a refined way, the way an older man like himself seemed to possess. Classy, suave, smooth.

“Not to worry, you weren’t a bother at all. I’m glad you’re okay, I can only imagine that must have been very frightening. Can I hail you a cab or walk you somewhere safe?”

The offer had you stopping in your tracks, a little stunned by his lack of annoyance, there was only genuine concern, in his tone, in the soft blue of his eyes.

As if sensing your urge to protest out of inconvenience on his behalf he gave you a comforting smile, “The least I could do is make sure you’re on your way safely.”

There was that word again, “safe”, the exact word to describe how you felt standing next to him despite being strangers.

Given what had just happened you knew you should have your guard up a little more but you couldn’t help considering his offer for a moment and ultimately decided to accept.

“I’ll take a cab then, thank you, really I can’t thank you enough.”

“No need, miss, it’s my pleasure.”

You stayed close as he waited with you, sneaking glances at him while he searched for any taxis close by, catching one a few minutes later.

A shy smile wound its way to your lips at how he effortlessly guided you to the taxi cab when it stopped by the curb, not missing a beat to open the door for you, heat warming your cheeks at the gesture.

One more thank you was said and his kind response was given, waiting until you were tucked inside the car before he shut the door, his figure lingering just a moment longer in your peripheral as you gave your address to the driver.

You resisted the urge to look back at him as the car peeled forward, unsure why you felt a touch reluctant to leave him behind but you were already replaying the interaction in your head, a little giddy by how much of a gentleman Mr. Pennyworth had been towards you.

The drive home was one spent lost in thought.

Limbs restless with the edge of adrenaline the last ten minutes had given you, anxious about the man who had followed you and what might have happened if you were still out on the street, and simultaneously comforted thinking of the very attractive man who’d been there right in the nick of time.

Trying to make sense of it in the moment was only proving to make the base of your head throb, only knowing one thing for certain, you’d need to be extra careful and aware of your surroundings going forward.

–

Sleep had been elusive, your mind exhausted but unable to slow down as you counted down the few hours you had left before you needed to head back to The Iceberg, finally drifting off when you shut your eyes and pictured the dance you knew by heart now, imagining your body’s movements, everything slowing down till you felt drowsy enough to slip into a comfortable sleep.

The consequence of your morning being thrown off like it had been was running late for your rehearsal slot, cursing at yourself when you heard the familiar piano notes of the scales intended to get your feet and body warmed up for the day.

Eyes trained on the scuffed flooring, you slipped into the large studio, hoping to jump into the barre warmup with the rest of the girls without being noticed but it was too late.

You’d looked up for a mere second and caught the disapproving look of your dance instructor, mouthing a “sorry” to her before slipping on your favorite pair of well worn heels and taking your place at the barre.

Madame Olena Efanova made dancing a dream.

She never shared much of herself with the girls she taught but you all felt close to her anyways, starry eyed and hungry for the chance to dance her choreography.

It was her that kept you all coming back despite the oppressive environment the club could have, despite being under Cobblepot’s thumb.

You and everyone else working at the club had quickly come to loathe and fear him, you knew of his reputation as a gangster and didn’t particularly enjoy the shady business he conducted with many of the men that came to watch “his girls” dance at the new and improved Iceberg Lounge.

In the wake of the original being all but washed away in the flood, Oz sought to build himself up out of the ruins.

44 Below was now hidden in plain sight, the new, more intimate location and jazzy burlesque feel to The Iceberg acting as a convincing front for the real back room deals. Drugs, guns, money, you name it.

Madame Olena was the club’s saving grace. She made it feel important, real, something more than just lingerie and sexy dances and cabaret strip teases.

There was conditioning, countless rehearsals, costumes, sets built, each girl got their own routine to showcase, it was a full production that wouldn’t be what it was without her attention to detail and encouragement of the passion you all had for dancing.

And maybe most importantly of all she was the only one standing in between you all and Oz, protecting you and teaching you to survive him, to survive Gotham in general.

Your posture straightened and you focused on making graceful transitions between foot positions, relieved when she gave you an understanding look. She had, after all, been the one trying to convince Oz not to punish you for laughing at him last night.

Maybe you’d ask to speak with her after you practiced your routine, tell her about this morning, about being followed and not knowing who or why it happened, she’d have kind words for you without a doubt.

For now, you focused on making the prettiest lines with your arms, dipping into a plie and coming back up slow and controlled. Classical training couldn’t be beat.

–

The second time you would run into Alfred was barely a week after your first encounter, on an ordinary and particularly chilly Friday night.

Picking up an extra shift at your sometimes second job hadn’t been the plan but another dancer friend of yours needed the extra hands for drink services and you’d agreed to spend your evening at The Magpie helping out.

Something about an investor dinner for Gotham’s Symphonic Orchestra and their partners; you hadn’t been too concerned with the details, satisfied with the extra money it would bring and opportunity to catch up with your friend.

The lush wine red of The Magpie’s interior design and color scheme was always a favorite of yours, appreciative of the more intimate vibe of the place despite it being a higher end restaurant and bar, even if you’re weren’t getting paid you’d still have come by in your best attire just to be in the space.

Kiera greeted you warmly at one of the employee entrances, sharing a laugh at how you’d worn the same dress, a tried and true pick that paired exceptionally well with the dark hue of both your skin tones, of course you were just that in sync with each other.

It had been like that when you had first met too, she was one of the newer girls at the club then just as you were but you think maybe she saw a lot of herself in you and stuck by your side, a quiet friendship forming almost instantly.

There wasn’t much time to talk before you were both hurried along to the upper level of the building with the balcony terrace that overlooked the city, an impressive bar centered in the middle of the wide space, clusters of plush love seats and tables filled the rest of the space, replicating the same distinguished and intimate feel of the restaurant below.

You just barely caught a glance at the table assignments before you were ushered off to the bar, but you were almost positive you had spotted his name on the reservation list.

It was a touch alarming, being acutely aware of your heartbeat thudding against your ribcage, stomach flipping at the fact that you’d be in the same space tonight. It sounded silly you knew that, feeling a little foolish that part of you reasoned he wouldn’t recognize you while another part secretly hoped he did.

You were sure you weren’t even a blip on his radar, you couldn’t allow yourself to think he would remember the brief interaction between you that day but even so, butterflies tickled your skin at the thought of bumping into him again.

So to put it to rest, you made a deal with yourself, not to expect anything from him, you’d act like you’d never met and that would be that but try as you might, your heart was still thudding as you maneuvered the platter of dazzling champagne flutes through the room.

Cheerful conversation could be heard as you got closer to the section you were covering, hands gripping the gold platter extra tight when you spotted him, unable to keep your eyes from searching.

Alfred Pennyworth looked even better than you remembered, a polite smile gracing his features, hair styled neatly back, a charcoal gray suit tailored perfectly on his frame, a matching tie with bronze accented thread stood out from the crisp white of his dress shirt underneath, the familiar gold of his wrist watch catching the light, almost like a beacon.

You were going to drop the platter if you weren’t careful, forcing yourself to pull it together as you stopped in front of his table, two other men sat on either side of him.

The conversation they were having lulled once you approached, carefully setting down the drinks in front of them, going through your old bottle service training, presenting everything neatly.

But your eyes were keen to wander again, catching his fingers coming into view as he reached for the champagne glass, cataloging the attractive build of his hands before you were looking at his face, one single second of eye contact made before he was looking away and then looking back in a double take.

A flicker of recognition flashed across his face, his attention snagged on you still, lagging behind while the two men next to him continued with their conversation after thanking you.

Too scared to peek at him again, you backed away, fleeing for the bar to keep yourself busy, your brain going a mile a minute with thoughts and far too many emotions to count.

You knew you couldn’t hide forever, couldn’t mistake that he recognized you and that you’d have to come around again to collect their glasses and offer more but you were so taken by surprise that you weren’t sure what to do as you grabbed the next platter and made your way to the next table, focusing on the group’s drink requests before you made for the bar again.

Eventually, you got enough courage to venture back to his table, a chilled bottle of Moët and Chandon in hand, but was disappointed to see Alfred missing from his seat.

You definitely shouldn’t be looking for him, definitely shouldn’t be slipping away when you saw a quiet moment to catch him alone once you spotted him out on the balcony, but it was already happening.

Now that the sun had fully set the wind had a sharper bite to it, your arms wrapping around yourself in a hug as you adjusted to the temper drop and weaved past the other guests strolling the terrace to meet Alfred at the stone balcony ledge.

“Hi, Mr. Pennyworth? I don’t know if you remember me but I feel like we keep bumping into each other,” you approached slowly, trying to keep your teeth from chattering.

“I do remember you, I’m happy to see you’re doing well, I hope you haven’t had any more trouble from that stalker, and please, just call me, Alfred.” his hands had been clasped behind his back until now, his right hand jutting forward to shake yours.

“N-no, no more trouble thankfully. I still really appreciate you looking out for me in that moment.” your lashes fluttered at the firm grip of his hand, how the other one came up to press against the back of your palm too.

“As I told you then, it was the least I could do. And oh my, you must be so cold out here! Here, allow me, please,” his brows furrowed as he took in the way you shivered, shrugging off his thick wool coat and holding it open, helping you slide your arms into the sleeves.

He wasn’t helping the already smoldering crush you’d developed and this by far topped the list of things he’d done so far to make you interested in him.

You thanked him and gave him your name after he asked, the two of you laughing at how you’d met twice now and he didn’t even know your name.

The sound of his rich, deep accent speaking the syllables of your name made you shiver again but this time for an entirely different reason, the cold no longer much of a concern as you conversed with him a bit, learning he was here on behalf of a Wayne Foundation initiative with the Orchestra, that he loved classical music and probably would have been here regardless of it being a business venture.

You learned one of the men he’d been sitting at the table with was Lucius Fox, his business partner at Wayne Enterprises who’d suggested he come tonight and you were silently thanking Mr. Fox for doing so, content to talk to him all night if you could.

He asked about you too, and you explained that you were here as a favor to a friend, that you were a dancer but had also been working in the Gotham nightlife scene for awhile and could make a mean dry apple martini, the two of you falling into an easy rhythm with each other until a voice from the balcony doors called your attention.

“Alfred, they’d like to go over some additional plans for the project…we need your input.” Mr. Fox called out from the balcony entrance to which Alfred let him know he’d be back inside in a minute.

“Thank you for being lovely company, I regret I have to cut things short.” his sympathetic smile and warm compliment made your heart flutter.

“Of course, I understand! I have to get back to the bar soon anyways but it was nice to see you again too.”

He was already walking away when you realized something.

“Oh! I still have your coat!” you tried to call out to him but it was too late, wind cutting across your words and the French doors shutting behind him all at once.

You hummed to yourself, weighing your options as you looked out over the twinkling lights and inky black sky of the city again, wondering if it was completely selfish to keep the coat for a little while longer.

It felt special, more than just a nice gesture, maybe you were reading too much into it but the way his hands had lingered on your arms wasn’t something you could shake.

The cold and the sneaking suspicion Kiera was looking for you had you hurrying back inside, reminding yourself to find him at the end of the night and give the coat back, and maybe, if you were brave enough, ask to see him again.

Maybe that was too bold, and could you afford to believe meeting him a second time had been more than just coincidence? You weren’t sure and that thought was even further complicated when the later evening hours rolled in and you couldn’t find him or Mr. Fox, realizing he must have left earlier than you thought he would.

You didn’t bother putting your own coat back on as you headed home later, happy to be wrapped up in something that was his. You wondered if he would come back to the restaurant in search of it, wondered if you should have left it there in case he did but you had decided to indulge this bit of desire, promising to take good care of the expensive material until you found a way to return it to him.

The question of how that might happen coming to you in the shape of a little black business card in the coat pocket, his name and contact information engraved in the center in curled silver lettering.

Wayne Enterprises was an intimidating building even from afar, impressive and sleek, looming over everything near it, but now that you knew he was in there somewhere, your opinions had shifted.

Less looming and more enticing.

The intimidation was still very much there, however, nerves rising now that you were inside and asking to meet with Alfred Pennyworth, the man that had been in your thoughts all weekend, the man who’s coat you were here to return.

The very coat you had draped over your arms, concealing your restless fingers as you gave your name to the lobby secretary and waited while they rang Alfred’s office number.

You hoped you hadn’t interrupted him at a bad time, it was a Monday morning after all and you felt a little anxious knowing you just showed up without an appointment, you knew he was probably busy but thought dropping by would come off as less earnest, less thought out, not giving away just how much you’d actually thought about being near him again.

Your worries weren’t given any more time to swirl around, the secretary confirming you’d be seen by him right away, feet slow and careful not to stumble as you were directed towards a set of elevators and given a floor number.

The journey up to his office was spent reminding yourself that it wasn’t stupid to be doing this, wasn’t silly to try and follow a feeling, to follow the cues of something you thought might be there.

What was the point if you didn’t try?

Soon enough, the elevator came to a stop, dinging open with a bright chime. There were only a few offices on this floor, the one directly in front of you was where you’d been directed to go, only having to take a few steps forward before you were knocking softly on the dark wooden door.

It wasn’t too long before it swung open and there he was…his rolled up sleeves making his forearms the first thing you notice.

God, you wished he didn’t look so handsome all the time. The simple waistcoat and slacks he had on made you feel a little underdressed, in awe of how he always looked so put together, so classy.

He spoke your name sweetly and ushered you inside his office, “Come in please, it’s nice to see you again!” that familiar feeling of safety and warmth easing the nerves you felt about all the ways you were different from him, why this might have been a stupid idea.

His words were cheerful, nothing in his tone or body language suggested you were inconveniencing him and that made you feel relieved.

Elegant described him perfectly but it could have also be used to describe his office space, the decor a mix of modern and gothic, dark stains of wood and furniture to match, ornate bookshelves lined the wall behind a massive oak desk in the middle of the room, the spines of hundreds of beautiful books filled the shelves, making you smile. Of course he was a reader.

His desk was littered with papers and pens, a stack of books, binders, a laptop open and an empty tea mug to the side. It all fit what you had pictured.

“Thank you, I know this is unexpected but I…well I'm sure you’ve been missing your coat. That night at The Magpie, you left it with me, I hope it’s okay that I came here, I found one of your business cards in the pocket and thought I’d return it to you.”

Your words were careful, gauging his reaction, pleased when he nodded and took the coat from your outstretched hand, moving to hang it up on the rack near the door.

“That’s very kind of you, I had been missing it actually, it’s an old favorite of mine. I appreciate that.” he moved then to stand at his desk, tidying up the papers as you inched closer.

A rich brown chaise and matching ottoman occupied the space to the right of his desk, the room still feeling cozy despite the large space. He had filled it with paintings and antiques, resembling something a little out of an art museum.

“Yeah! It’s no problem, I appreciate you for lending it to me, I was going to return it that night but I think you left before I could.” you fiddled with the strap of your purse, happy to just watch him move around his space.

“Ah yes, I admit I did have to leave in a hurry that night and totally forgot about it, but I knew it was in safe hands,” he smiled at you then, the brightness of it reaching all the way to his eyes.

You returned it, falling a little quiet as he spoke to you again, telling you to make yourself comfortable, watching for a second as he picked up the stack of books to return them to their proper shelves, and you, moving for the two armchairs angled towards one another in front of his desk, leaning against the back of one.

Now was your chance to say something, deciding not to shy away from showing your interest this time.

“Hey, can I…ask you something?”

“Of course, ask away.” he glanced back at you as he found the right spot for the remaining book in his hand.

“That night. Did you only give me your coat because I was cold?”

He faced you now, the edges of his mouth twitched up into a smile for the slightest second. Your breaths coming short and shallow as he took a couple steps closer to you.

“No. Not only because of that. You were freezing and it’s what any decent man should have done but…yes, there was another reason.”

You hoped he couldn’t hear the way your heart was beating in your chest as he grew silent, pushing the ball into your court now, your eyes searching his own for a moment before you found your words.

“Well, then I have to admit something too. It was hard making the decision to come here to give it back.”

“Oh, how so?”

“I just knew it would probably be the last time I’d run into you ever again.”

The words left your lips in a hushed whisper, your chest tight as he maneuvered even closer to where you were still leaning against the armchair.

“Hm, then I guess this was meant to be. The other reason I had for giving you my coat was because I hoped it would mean it wouldn’t be the last time I’d run into you again too. That’s a part of the truth.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as he took another step closer. Just a mere foot away from you now.

“What if I wanted to hear the whole truth?”

“I’d tell you that I haven’t quite been able to stop thinking about you since the morning we met. Then, I’d say that what I really wanted to do that night on the balcony was kiss you.”

Flustered at the way he was looking at you, the words had been slow to process in your brain, only registering when your gaze caught the slightest lick of his lips.

He was confirming that he was just as interested as you were and it felt so genuine.

“So what’s stopping you now?”

“Is that what you’d like, love? For me to kiss you?”

Your sharp little intake of breath wasn’t missed, his eyes crinkling as he chuckled at your reaction to the pet name. The new tenderness in his voice made you lose your words entirely, only a simple nod gave him your answer.

He approached slowly, closing the distance between your bodies with a single step forward, still giving you time to back out and you appreciated that he wanted your permission but there wasn’t anything you were more sure of than knowing you wanted this, right now.

The tilt up of your head sealed your answer as his own dipped to meet you, your eyes closing as his lips captured yours, warm, soft, sure.

Alfred felt solid and steady, your hands coming up to rest against his broad chest as he kissed you, the soft press of his lips turning a touch deeper, more eager when you leaned into him, a soft passion echoing in the way a warm hand came up to cup your chin, keeping you close to him.

You never wanted him to stop, getting pulled into a dreamy haze as you kissed, but your already racing heartbeat surged higher in alarm at the sudden woosh of the office door opening, your mind almost too foggy to react but Alfred was already pulling away from your mouth, taking a step back as Bruce Wayne came into view.

“Hey, Alfred I had a question for you about the-oh….” the younger man had just looked up from the papers in his hand in time to see the two of you pull away from each other.

The way his eyes bounced back and forth between you and Alfred made you cringe inwardly, mortified that you’d been caught kissing by one of the most famous figures in the city, and caught with his butler at that.

Alfred cleared his throat and turned to address him, explaining who you were and that you’d dropped by to return something of his he’d lost.

If it were anybody else you were sure the seamless way he maneuvered into explaining would have worked but Mr. Wayne didn’t look convinced…a similar twitch of a smile forming in amusement before he was back to being unreadable, apologizing for coming in unannounced.

Your eyes flit about for anywhere else to look, glancing at your phone quickly to see the time. Damn it. You needed to leave, there was a show tonight and you were cutting it very close to time.

“I didn’t realize the hour, I really should get going but thank you for making time in your schedule to meet.” the words came out more rushed than you wanted them to but there wasn’t any time to really explain your haste in departing despite the obvious interruption.

“Of course yes, I was more than happy to.” came Alfred’s even response, an understanding in his eyes that put any worries at ease that he’d taken your move to leave so quickly the wrong way.

Gathering yourself, you made for the door, giving Mr. Wayne a polite nod of acknowledgment on your way out, still a little frazzled by his presence and a touch annoyed at his interruption.

You wish there had been more time to talk to Alfred, to see where else the kiss could have gone, to stop tiptoeing around the words you really wanted to say and ask up front if you could see each other again, but the little note with your phone number written on it tucked into the inside breast pocket of his coat would have to suffice as an invitation to continue this, whatever this was, thankful you’d slipped it in there before coming.

You weren’t quite ready for the encounters you had thus far to fade into memories just yet.

Alfred walked you to the door, opening his mouth to say something before stopping short, watching the way you turned back to face him, gesturing to the pocket of his coat just inches away from you, hoping he’d catch on before you turned forward again, walking away.

Giddy laughter broke free from your chest as soon as you were alone in the elevator, almost unable to believe what had just happened. That kiss still fresh on your mind, your lips still warm, buzzing at being against his.

It was his move to make now.

Distracted was an understatement as the rest of the day continued on, a sense of anticipation filling you that was one part to do with being on stage tonight and another part to do with Alfred.

Hopeful that he’d call, that he’d want to see you again, trying not to listen to the tiny twinge of doubt as the night ticked by.

It was right after the show that your phone trilled suddenly at your vanity, you almost missed the ringtone from all the chatter of the crowded dressing room, but caught it on the fourth ring, rushing to slide into your robe before you slipped outside to the alley round back.

“Hello?!” your voice full of baited excitement.

“Good evening, love. It’s me, Alfred. I found your note and I hope you know that I have been thinking about that kiss the entire day.”

“Me too,” you giggled, unable to stop the rush you felt at being called “love” again, at the smoothness of his voice over the phone, right next to your ear, biting the nail of your thumb as you found your words. “But I think maybe our kiss was cut way too short.”

“Oh I very much agree,” his own happy chuckle came after, “I didn’t get the chance earlier but if we hadn’t been interrupted I was going to ask if you’d like to go out with me this weekend, if you are free that is and comfortable with that.”

You had to keep from blurting out your answer as he continued, “I want to take you out to dinner, to do this properly, you deserve that.”

His last words made you burn to kiss him a million times more. The thoughtfulness had you melting.

“I would love that, thank you. I’m free Saturday evening.”

“Perfect I’ll pick you up then.”

“Goodnight, Alfred,” you could practically hear the smile in his voice and hoped he could do the same with yours.

The frigid air did nothing to tamper your high spirits as he let you know he’d be in touch again with details about the date, reluctantly letting you go with a wistful, and comforting goodbye.

“Goodnight, love.”

It was soon, maybe too soon but you couldn’t help the feeling already settling deep in your bones that maybe he was right, that maybe this was meant to be after all.

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A/N: Ahh well here we are! I know this was a longer length fic to start off the series but really couldn’t resist writing out all of what I envisioned in my head so I hope that translated smoothly here!

Please let me know what you think! I would love to hear your thoughts and predictions, anything and everything!

Thank you so much for reading and big big thanks to @eupheme @squidlywiddly87 and @thaddeuscranes for being my sisters in ✨ Dilfred✨ arms lol and inspiring me and encouraging me to write this series!

some tags, no pressure! @flamingdisputes @aislupu @kneelforloki @pipsqueakkitten

#amalia writes #the batman!alfred pennyworth #alfred pennyworth x reader #alfred pennyworth x black reader #alfred pennyworth x woc #alfred pennyworth x you #alfred pennyworth imagine #alfred pennyworth fanfiction #alfred pennyworth fanfic #andy serkis #alfred pennyworth fic #alfred pennyworth x fem!reader

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