#i opened up Spotify and I went to my playlist of them and I just listened while I drew them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeonzzzn · 27 days

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I'm in a spooky vibe rn and I've been thinking about one of the enha members (hyung line) with a scream mask ( y'know from the movie sjshsj) about to m*rder reader but idk they get turned on and both got freaky 🫦

fffuuuuccccckkkk anon your brain is 😍 love this idea so much (fun fact scream is my favorite slasher movie and I even have a ghost face tattoo) I hope this is exactly what you’re looking for🤭 it’s funny because I also main ghost face in dead by daylight so when I saw this request I got SOOOO happy ~ I also made this a lot longer than I expected to but oops🤭🤭

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chill & kill: sim jaeyun

part one of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 6.4k

You sit up on the couch, eyes widening as you grab the TV remote and turn up the volume.

“The mysterious ghost face kill strikes again, killing two more college students in the library this morning. The bodies were discovered by…”

You quickly shot to your feet, grabbing your jacket and camera and slipping your feet into your boots tying them quickly as you slipped out your dorm door.

You never were so happy to live on campus as you ran from the dorm building and across campus to the library. Students surrounded the main entrance and you pushed your way through finally seeing the inside of the library.

“Hey!” a police officer yelled at you when you slipped under the caution tape, “You can’t be back here!”

You eyed him, pulling out your student journaling ID, “I have every right to be here.”

The officer tried to protest, but you kept your stride, making your way to the bodies ignoring the yelling officer behind you.

The closer you got, the more the smell of blood filled your senses, making your skin crawl. Your journaling partner was already on the scene, standing at the edge of the other caution tape marking off the two bodies.

You stood beside him, your heart sinking as you took in the bodies of the two females lying dead in front of you. They were just freshmen. Barely made it into college and fully started their lives.

From what you could see, they were stabbed multiple times in the chest and abdomen. One of their necks was slit, and the other looked like they were stabbed through their throat. They suffered, for sure.

“Who found them?” you asked him, taking your eyes off the dead bodies and turning to your partner. He had one arm crossed over his chest and gripped his elbow as his other arm was reached up and fingers gripping his chin.

He slowly tilted his head to look at you, streaks of his black hair fell into his eyes, “Funny enough,” he sighs, “Sunghoon and myself.”

You completely turned your whole body to him, “That’s why you’re here before me?! Jake, what happened?!”

Jake chucked, “You're more worried that I was here before you?” you narrowed your eyes at him, and he sighed again, completely wrapping his arms over his chest, looking back at the bodies. You could have sworn you saw a sparkle glint in his eyes. Jake has always been excited to be on the scene, same as you. But he enjoyed it a little bit more than you. He’ll make one damn good detective one day for sure, “Wanted to check out a book and saw the door already unlocked for the campus not even fully being opened yet. And that's when we found the bodies.”

“Where is Sunghoon now?” you asked, looking around the library, spotting him with the librarian and being questioned by a detective.

You went to walk over, to ask him questions, but Jake stopped you, putting a hand on your shoulder and pulling you towards him, his arm wrapping around over your chest, “Don’t question him, he’s really shaken up,” You wanted to protest, only for Jake to squeeze you tightly against him, your back pressing further into his chest, “Please, YN, he’s my best friend. I’ll take care of it. I promise.”

You sigh and nod. Letting Jake take the lead with this one.

But you still had a job to do. So you pulled out your camera, taking a few photos. Once you finished with the photos, you pulled your journal from your back pocket, asked Jake a few questions, and took his account down then turned back to the bodies and took your own notes.

You circled the area, taking in every inch and piece of information you could. Jotting down everything in your little notebook.

Jake kept his eyes on you, watching you do your thing. His eyes sparkled more the longer his eyes lingered on you. He eventually dropped his gaze and went back to looking at his best friend, watching as he sat at one of the tables, knees pressed to his chest and hands curled into his hair. The small smile Jake had fell at the sight of his best friend and—

“Jake!” You called for him, bringing his attention back to you, “I think I found something.”

“Oh?” He walks over to you and kneels down on the floor beside you, your camera resting on your knees as you point your finger toward one of the dead girls, “What am I looking at honey?”

You groaned and rolled your eyes, “Under her body, there’s a black glove,” you looked at Jake. His jaw clenched tightly, “The killer must have accidentally lost it, dropped it, or whatever. Maybe she fought them or something. I don’t know. But I want to figure it out.”

You took a few close-up photos of the glove and turned back around to show Jake, noticing a scratch mark sliding down the left side of his neck. You hadn’t seen it before since you were standing on his right side, but it looked deep and irritated, “What happened there?” You reached up to touch it, but he grabbed your hand quickly and set it down at your side.

“Hoon and I were wrestling earlier at our apartment and I hit the side of our entertainment center, I am fine.”

You thinned your lips into a line, boys will be boys you guess. Their apartment was a lot smaller than the dorms on campus, they must have been fucking around at a good spot to have knocked Jake into their entertainment center.

Eventually, the police shooed you and Jake off the scene. Forcing you two to head to the journaling office. You printed off the photos you took and made copies of your notes, passing them to Jake.

You glanced at the clock, it was now ten thirty am and classes would be resuming like normal, so you and Jake went your separate ways.

Jake was still new to being a journalist. You were a club of two, consisting of just you and another girl who helped write the articles for you while you took care of the rest. She wrote her own things, mostly on the sports or other small crimes that happen on campus, but with the ghost face killer making his rounds, you took up the role of this case with her helping on the side. At first, you took it all on yourself, but as the body count started piling up, you needed the help. So you let her help and put out an application for an extra set of hands, which Jake answered.

You’ve seen him around campus before he joined you. Was born and raised in this town. Being the town's sweetheart and golden puppy boy. You did some research on him before allowing him into your club, can’t have the killer join you, right?

He was the captain of his soccer team in middle and high school. Has taken his school’s team to the championships multiple times and was the heartthrob of the school. He donated to charity when he could and volunteered at the police station on the weekends in hopes of landing a good detective job there after graduation. He was the whole definition of a straight-A good boy student. Perfect for your team. He became your partner and you taught him everything you knew. When Jake joined, the body count from this ghost face killer was only three. But with the two bodies that were found today, it was now at fifteen.

In between your classes, you found yourself back at the club office, pinning the new photos to the corkboard in the back of the room, wrapping red string between the pushpins and possible suspects. After staring at the corkboard for what felt like hours, the other female club member came in and you helped her write the article. Give her your notes and advising as she writes.

Jake popped in and out of the office as well, brainstorming with you about the suspects and the time of events that happened. You both spun in circles that led to nowhere. You ask Jake again about speaking to Sunghoon, and he shoots you down, “Give him some time. I’ll get the police report soon and it’ll help, I am sure.”

A week has gone by since the murder in the library. You ended up shifting the corkboard from the office and into the corner of your kitchen, using the fluorescent light of the kitchen bulbs to light the board more. You leaned against the back of your couch, it being the furthest you could step away from the board. Biting at your nails as your eyes scanned every murder case. Every newspaper article and police report on the board.

Nothing made sense. Nothing connected. Whoever this killer was, they were good. Covered their tracks without so much as a piece of hair at any scene of their crimes. Until the glove.

You ran your hands into your long hair, scratching at the back of your head. You needed that police report that Jake still has yet to give you. Needed to speak to Sunghoon. There were missing pieces and those two things were important. You looked over to the clock above the kitchen sink. It was almost one thirty in the morning. But you still got up and slid into your sneakers, pulled your jacket on, and bounced out the door.

Finding yourself in front of Jake and Sunghoon’s front door, knocking loudly. There was no answer. So you did the next best thing and called Jake’s cell phone.

There was some shuffling on the other end of the door and a groan. The door opened and you find a half-awake Jake before you, his hair a mess and spreading in every direction, wearing a plain white tee shirt and a pair of black and blue checkered boxers, “YN,” he sleepily growled and then yawned, “It’s almost two am, what is it?”

“Can I have the police report?”

Jake blinked at you, “Huh?”

You crossed your arms, “The police report. Can I have it?”

Jake let out another yawn, “It’s at the school, in the office.”

Of course, it was. And the campus is closed and if you get caught sneaking in just to get a piece of paper…You sigh, “Thanks anyway,” you softly say, and turn around to walk down the stairs but stop, “Can I talk to Sunghoon?”

Jake scoffs, leaning against the doorframe, “It’s almost two am,” he repeats, “Why are you out here so late? There’s a literal killer running around here.”

You knew that. And still took that risk to come out here. The killer had to be a student at your college. Every murder had been college kids. It had to be another student. That’s what made being out here so dangerous.

“I know,” you shrugged, “But I can’t stand by and do nothing.”

Jake frowned, “You know you’re allowed to actually be a college student right? Live a normal life too?” you shrugged again, and he just scoffed again, “YN, go home and rest. Let the detectives with actual badges handle it. We can only do so much.”

You narrow your eyes at him, “Let me speak to Sunghoon.”

Jake stands his ground, “No. Go. Home. Before you get yourself killed.”

You roll your eyes, “See you tomorrow then.”

Jake mimicked your words and watched as you walked down the steps before walking back inside and going back to sleep.

You didn’t understand why Jake was so against you speaking to Sunghoon. Maybe he was being protective? Sunghoon didn’t look the best after finding the bodies. He was probably so shaken up. But it only made you want to speak to him more. And that need only grew more when you noticed Sunghoon’s car wasn’t in its normal parking spot beside Jake’s.

Meaning he wasn’t home.

You’ve respected Jake’s wishes on not to talk to Sunghoon, but this matter was getting serious and Sunghoon just might be the big break you needed. So you quickly walked off the apartment complex, glancing back to make sure Jake was outside, and pulled your phone from your pocket as you kept walking and dialed a number.

“Hello?”

“Sunghoon, where are you right now?”

—

You found him atop the bleachers of the soccer field just like he said he would be. A soccer ball sat between his feet, grass scuff marks were at the ends of his jeans, and sleeves of his hoodie rolled up to his elbows and sweat dripped down the side of his face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out he came here to kick the ball around. Probably as a distraction.

You sat down beside him, “How are you holding up?”

Sunghoon scoffs, “Holding up as in a week ago I found two dead bodies in the middle of the library or holding up because I’ve been questioned left and right by everyone or my best friend/roommate has smothered me to stay home and take time.”

You felt bad for him, mostly for what you’re about to ask him. He wanted to obviously forget what he saw, who could blame him? It takes special people to see a dead body and not be fazed by it.

“I’m sorry for asking you to do this again…”

Sunghoon just shrugs, “If I am being honest, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now.”

You raised your brow, “Yeah?”

He nodded, “Jake was against it,” he took a deep breath, “Something was off that day…with him.”

“What do you mean?” You placed a hand on his knee, “You can tell me anything. Start with the beginning.”

Sunghoon looked you in your eyes, then looked off into the distance at the field, “He told me that morning he was meeting our coach, for a one-on-one coaching session. At first, I didn’t think anything about it, being he was a soccer prodigy or whatever.” You nodded, remembering how much of the soccer star Jake was back in high school, “So you could probably understand my surprise when I got a call from our coach saying he tried to get ahold of Jake and then he confirmed with me that they did in fact not have a meeting that day.”

You sat back against the bleacher seat behind you, staring off onto the field, letting the gears in your brain slowly turn, waiting for Sunghoon to continue.

“I got scared, rushing out of the apartment and searching everywhere for him. Scared and thinking I was going to find my best friend murdered somewhere, ya know?” You understood, with this killer on the loose everyone was watching their backs and afraid. Who would be next? Who is next? “But I found him, lingering around the library building, digging through his soccer duffle bag. My heart almost stopped when I saw him…alive,” he took a deep breath, “So I confronted him, and he played it off that he did have a practice, but was with his coach from high school.”

You looked back at him, to read his face. Seeing how pale his skin was becoming, “I believed him at first, thinking maybe I misheard that morning. So we started walking back, but he kept digging through the duffle bag, looking frantic. He wasn’t acting himself. Said something about needing to go to the library, about finding a book or something, and then took off. But I followed after him. I didn’t want to leave him alone, not with ghost face running around. But when I got to the library, I…couldn’t find him. I saw him go through the back door instead of the front. But once I walked in and noticed all the doors were already unlocked…then I found the bodies.”

You squeezed his knee, “It’s okay.”

He nodded, swallowing and looking down at the soccer ball, “I smelt the blood first and then noticed their bodies. And then…then there were footsteps behind me and I knew that I was next. But the library walked in through the front entrance and started screaming, her eyes darting to me, saying we did it. I turned around to see Jake standing behind me. His skin was pale and sweaty. Eyes wide as he stared back at me and then at the bodies and the librarian. He’s never been surprised to see the bodies. He’s been working with you for over half a year. So when I saw the look on his face…the surprise that was there.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sunghoon kept going, “The weirdest thing is his duffle bag was missing from his shoulder,” Sunghoon scoffs, “How did it just disappear.” It was a good question. A very good one. “He hasn’t been the same since then.”

You tried to lighten the mood, “Maybe you knocked something loose in his head when the two of you wrestled the other day.” Sunghoon gave you a confused look, “You know? He said you two got too close to your TV stand and he got scuffed up by the edge of it. Making a scratch on his neck,” you pointed to the right side, tracing a finger down the side of your neck to mimic where Jake has his slowly fading scar now, “It’s right here.”

Sunghoon raised a brow, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. We haven’t wrestled inside the apartment.” Your smile faded. Sunghoon’s phone started vibrating and he pulled it from his pocket, seeing Jake’s caller ID on the screen, “Guess he noticed I wasn’t home.” Sunghoon locked his phone, ignoring the call, “I haven’t been telling him when I’ve left the apartment. So I better prepare myself with a talk when I get back.” He stood up and started walking down the bleachers, “Thank you for listening to me, I don’t want to suspect my best friend, and it probably isn’t even him. He’s just weird, I guess.”

You watched as he disappeared before standing up and finally finding yourself back at your dorm and in bed. Replaying Sunghoon’s story over and over, trying to piece it all together. It still didn’t make sense. None of it did. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from texting Jake, asking him to meet you at your dorm as soon as he could tomorrow, and him responding he had soccer practice but would be here right after.

—

“You should really keep your front door locked, YN, there’s a killer out there.” Jake teased you as he made himself at home, dropping his duffle bag into a chair at your kitchen table, his eyes going to the corkboard, “Make any progress yet?”

You stared down at the duffle bag quickly before looking up at him, then back to the board, “No I haven’t. I left my door unlocked on purpose. Knew you’d be coming here.”

Jake smiled at you and stood beside you at the back of your couch, looking at the board, “We’ll catch him, don’t worry honey.”

You glanced at him slightly, your heart winced at the nickname he’d given you. You looked to his neck, seeing the scratch still healing but faded, being nothing more than a pink line.

Jake looked down at you, giving a smile, “Can I freshen up in your bathroom? I bet I don’t smell the greatest from practice.”

You scrunch your nose, “Yes, please. You smell.”

Jake just rolls his eyes playfully and slides his hand up and down your back quickly before leaving your side, “I’m stealing your deodorant.”

You waited until you saw him turn the corner and heard the bathroom door close and lock before slowly walking to his duffle bag.

You didn’t want to suspect Jake anymore than Sunghoon did. But his story last night didn’t add up. No part of it did. Jake’s actions didn’t add up. Jake’s story he gave you didn’t match Sunghoon’s or the librarian's. None of the pieces were adding up no matter how much you tried to force the pieces together.

You looked down the hallway, then back at the bag, and slowly unzipped it, your hand flying to your mouth quickly to stop any noise from coming out. You took a couple of deep breaths and continued looking into the bag.

The police report you asked for along with the glove from the scene of the crime was in the bag in a ziplock bag. Along with the other matching glove and the ghost face mask and the black suit. You pulled the mask out of the bag with shaky hands. Why did Jake have these items? You knew. You knew why and still tried to find another explanation. But after seeing the contents of his bag…the pieces of the puzzle fit. Everything clicked and made sense.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to go through people’s things, honey?” before you could move, a knife was pressed to your neck and his other arm was wrapped around your waist, “I expected better from you than to snoop around.”

Jake’s hot breath was hitting your ear, sending chills down your spine. Any doubts you had were now out the window. Jake is ghost face. Jake is the killer.

“Keeping secrets is very rude too,” you retorted back, dropping the mask back into his bag, “But I figured you already knew that I found out, hint why you leave your bag so easily for me to look through.”

Jake chuckles, squeezing his arm around you and pressing the knife further against your skin, “Can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Why?” you asked, tilting your head at the movement of him brushing the side of his face to yours.

“Why did I do it?” he nuzzled his nose on the shell of your ear, “You’ll need to be specific, honey.”

You swallowed, “Everything.”

Jake chuckles again, “Because it’s fun.” It was such a simple yet spine-chilling answer, “You think I played this fucking good boy persona because I actually wanted to? No, no. I had to play that persona. To hide my secret. This is all a game to me, YN.”

“It’s why you joined our club,” you swallowed again, “To make it harder for us to figure you out.”

Jake shrugs, gently biting at the shell of your ear then rubbing his nose against it again, “I thought it would add to the fun, honestly. Yeah having an inside made it so much easier. It covered my tracks well. Until you started picking up on every. Fucking. Thing.” he hissed, tightening his grip, “You made it harder to cover up my tracks. Picking apart every smallest thing with each murder. I was lucky you didn’t suspect me, that was until you started poking your nose more into my business, you don’t think I didn’t know you tore the office apart looking for the police report before coming to my apartment? That you talked to Sunghoon even after I told you not to?”

“You have our phones and the office bugged,” this should surprise you, but it doesn’t. It made sense.

He pressed his lips to your ear, “Smart girl. Think I wouldn’t bug your phone? Or my best friends?”

“Jake, you were going to kill him, weren’t you.”

Another low chuckle, “Yes,” your body stilled, feeling cold, “It would have been a pity, really, to kill off my best friend all because he also stuck his nose where he shouldn’t have.”

You looked down at his bag, seeing the bag gloved, “You went back to the library for the glove, you fucked up.”

He growled in your ear, “Shut up! That bitch fought me instead of taking it. I didn’t even realize my glove was gone until after I murdered them both and fled the scene. That’s when Sunghoon showed up. I knew I had to go back and find where the fuck my glove went before someone else did. I didn’t know he was following me until I went to go back and check the bodies after tearing apart the other side of the library and saw him standing there. I quietly set my bag in one of the reading rooms and locked the door, slipping my knife into the back of my jeans. Preparing myself to kill my best friend.”

“All to keep your fucking secret,” you snapped at him, his hands on your body getting tighter.

“Watch it, honey,” he hissed, “You do have a knife to your throat right now.”

“She fought you right? Probably knocked off your mask too. She saw your face, and you acted quickly and sliced her throat. Not before she left her own scratch on your neck.”

Jake nodded, a wide smile on his face, “Nothing gets past you. You’d make a great detective someday, honey.”

You needed to turn him in. Needed to get out of here and turn him in before he could kill anyone else. Fifteen. He’s murdered fifteen people. Probably more before he took up the ghost face mantle.

Jake pressed his chest to your back, “You know,” he whispers, “I’ve dreamed about doing this with you, my knife to your throat,” he rocked his hips against your ass, “It’s so fucking hot.”

It was now or never. You tilted your head to the side, taking the skin of his forearm between your teeth and biting hard.

“Fuck!” he shouted, his hand flexing and dropping the knife to the floor and his grip on you loosening.

You pushed him back with your back and sent him falling to his ass. You barely made it two steps away from him before both of his hands were on your ankles, tripping you to the floor and pulling you towards him.

You kicked your legs but not getting out of his strong grip. Jake worked fast to flip you over onto your back, his hands now at your wrists and holding them up and above your hand, pinning them to the floor. He straddled you, locking his legs around yours to keep you from wiggling them.

“Stop fighting me!” he growled, using all his weight to pin you to the floor.

You stopped, chest rising and falling as you stared up at his beautiful killing face.

He held your wrists down with one hand and reached for his knife with the other, chuckling as he once again held the knife to your throat, “You look so pretty like this baby, all underneath me like this.”

Jake was so turned on by this. He’s only dreamed of having you pinned underneath him with his favorite weapon against your skin. Dreamed what you’d sound and look like. This passed his expectations. It went even further than that. His cock twitched in his pants seeing the look of anger all over your face.

“You get horny every time you kill someone?” you spat out at him, the fire in your eyes burning.

Jake cocked his head, “You’re not afraid of me?”

“Why would I be afraid of a horn dog who likes killing people?”

Jake laughs, adjusting his legs from yours, using his knees to spread your legs apart, sliding himself between them, “Baby, you’re the only one I’ve ever got horny over. The others were just killings to kill. But you? You do something to me.”

From the moment Jake first saw you on campus he wanted to be buried balls deep in your cunt. Wanted to fuck you so hard as he softly made cuts on your arms to watch you bleed as your moans of pain and pleasure filled his ear holes. Wanted to cum so deep within you and make you his.

He had more than just joined the club to hide his killings as his reason. He wanted to get closer to you, get to know you. Then kill you after he got his dick wet. But what he didn’t expect was you figuring him out so soon. His plans got pushed up. He wanted you afraid of him as he killed you. He didn’t expect you to look at him with fury, so unafraid.

Jake leaned down, being inches away from your face, the knife pressing harder against your neck, “You get me so hard,” he rocked his hips between you, his hard cock rubbing against your clothed cunt. You tried to not whimper, to keep your firm face, but the effect he was having on you down south was obvious. He wasn’t stupid, you knew that.

You’d be lying if you said you haven’t been crushing on Jake since he walked into the club for the first time. How couldn’t you? He was perfect. Still was as he sat atop you with a knife to your neck.

You relaxed your body, “If you’re going to kill me, then do it.”

Jake smiled, “Want me to?” He released your hands from his grip and slid the knife from your neck and down to your shirt, his free hand looping his fingers at the collar, using the knife to cut a line, tearing the fabric and exposing your laced bra and skin. Jake tucked his lip between his teeth. Fuck you looked so much better than what you did in his dreams. So much better than he imagined. He slid the tip of the knife down your chest, rounding it around your breast and down your sternum, “Where should I start?” He placed both hands at the sides of your head and bent down, lips brushing against yours, “Tell me, baby.”

You lifted your head, connecting your lips to his. Taking in the taste of his cherry chapstick and the softness of his lips. He rocked his hips against yours, moaning into your mouth, “Start by taking the rest of my clothes off.”

He laughs against your lips and then pulls away, setting the knife down at your side to pull his famous white tee shirt off his body, “Yeah?” you nodded, eyes darting to his bare chest and abs, “So fucking dirty,” he cooed, “Should have known you were into killers.”

You sat up on your elbows, ready to reach for the button of his jeans, but found the knife back in his hand and the tip pointing at your chest, “Lay back down, baby, no need to be so impatient.”

His free hand touched your shoulder and gently pressed you back to the floor. You kept your eyes on him as he unbuttoned his jeans, the knife still in hand as he wiggled out of his jeans and boxers, leaving him bare to you.

You watched as he took his length between his fingers, slowly pumping himself, him biting his lips. You were growing too impatient. Needing to feel him against you, in you, “Jake,”

“Shhh, honey,” he whispers, dropping his hands to your shorts, “I know.”

The cool metal of the knife brushed your skin as he pulled your shorts and panties down your thighs. Goosebumps formed on your skin and making Jake chuckle, enjoying this more than he’d thought, “You love the way my knife feels against you?” He tossed your clothing somewhere off into the void of the room, settling himself back between your legs, his tip prodding your entrance, “love the way it feels to glide against your skin?” He sent the knife sliding up your tummy, his hips pushing his cock in your pussy, slowly stretching you.

Jake bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. He hissed out in pure pleasure of finally being buried so deep inside you, the pleasure of how fucking good you felt wrapped around him, “fuck baby,” he smiles, sliding the knife to your waist, wanting to cut open your skin and see how pretty your blood would look pooling out, “feel so good and I’m not even moving.”

You bucked your hips up against him, wanting to feel any kind of friction. Jake drops the knife to the floor, his hands pinning your arms above your head again, “I told you to stop being so impatient.”

“Jae, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I need you.”

Hearing you beg for him had him gone and all he cared about now was fucking you. To make you feel so good until you’re cumming around his dick.

Jake started out slow, burying his face in your neck, “Why aren’t you afraid, hmm? I could kill you right now.”

You leaned into him, squeezing your legs tighter on him to push him even further into you, “Because I have secrets of my own.”

Jake chuckled, bucking his hips harder and faster into yours, his lips pressing to yours. Tongue sliding down your throat and exploring your mouth. One hand leaving yours to cup your breast, his thumb and index finger pinching your nipple, “Tell me your secrets.”

“You already seem to know them all, stalker,” you hissed, throwing your head back against the floor at him pinching your nipple harder in the same movement of him pushing his dick hard against your cervix, pressing so hard to break whatever barrier that was stopping him from completely filling you whole as his hip bones knocked against yours.

“Tell me anyway,” he whispers between kisses, now sliding his mouth down to your ear, licking the shell of it, “I don’t know what you haven’t texted or physically talked about.”

“I have feelings for you,” you felt insane saying it out loud. Felt crazy that you even admitted it to him. To the person who was fucking you into pure bliss. To a murderer, “I’m obsessed with you, Jake.”

Jake bit down into your neck, both of his hands sliding underneath you to wrap at your shoulders, fucking his hips against you faster. His teeth sank into your skin tearing it slightly, a small sprinkle of blood escaping.

“Fuckkkk,” he moans, tasting the brassy liquid on his tongue, “Even your blood tastes good.”

He was fucking crazy. You knew he was. But everything about him drew you to him. Made you want him more.

And him hearing how obsessed you were with him made him even crazier about you.

“Such a good girl,” he cooed, “Letting me fuck you like this, looking so pretty for me this way.” He bucked his hips faster, adjusting his legs on the floor to spread yours even wider, giving him more access to hit your weak spots and to hit them just right.

You pulled at his hair, “Jake!” you moaned out his name, the knot in your stomach threatening to snap, “I’m going…fuck…I’m going to cum.”

“Please,” he groaned, “Cum for me baby,” he sticks his tongue out, flattening it against the bite he left on your shoulder, licking up the new blood that pooled out, “fucking cum around my cock for me, honey.”

A few more thrusts and you came around him. Tingles spread throughout your body at the feeling of your release. Jake moans at feeling the mess you’ve made on his cock, him working his dick faster in your cunt to chase out the release he wants. The one he’s dreamed about having with you. His hand only did so much for him with his thoughts while back at his apartment. But now he was balls deep in your sweet pussy, having you right where he wanted you.

“Gonna cum soon,” he panted, hands squeezing your shoulders, “fuck I want to cum in this cunt so bad.”

You pulled at his hair harder, the overstimulation hitting you hard, “Jae, I can’t—“

“I know, baby,” he pressed his forehead against yours, his brows furrowing and eyes shut tightly, “Going to fill this pussy to the brim, understand? This pussy is mine.”

Jake pressed a kiss to your lips and lifted up, taking your legs and pressing them to your chest, pistoning into you faster but sloppy, “Shit,” he hissed, “Fixing to cum—fuck—I’m cumming, honey, I’m cum—“ one final thrust, and his white ropes spilled into you. He pressed his hips against you and held them there, making sure every last drop of his cum made it deep within, none to be wasted.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly lifting himself back up and dropping your legs back to the floor, “Sex with you was so much better than in my head. I only dreamt how good this pussy would feel. How good it’d feel to cum in you.”

Jake was definitely more obsessed with you than you were with him. And he honestly didn’t care how obvious it was.

“Fuck I am in love with you.” he chuckles, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs.

You tilted your head to the side, seeing the knife sitting there idle. Jake clocked where your eyes landed, but he wasn’t fast enough as you quickly grabbed it, being the one who now held the knife to his throat, the fire in your eyes back.

Jake might have just came, but his dick twitched and hardened again between the walls of your fuck hole. His crazy smile is so wide and his eyes so lustful. Seeing you so ready to end him right here and now made him crazier. Made him crave you even more.

He wouldn’t kill you now. No, no. How could he kill the love of his life? How could he slide that knife into your skin and cut you open? You were precious to him, more than what he thought before. Maybe the sex drew him in, but you weren’t getting away from him that easily.

“Awe, babe,” he cooed, taking your wrist in his hand and slowly removing the knife from your hand, “This is how this will go now,” he tossed the knife across the room and out of reach, pinning your arms back to the floor, slowly rocking his hips, “You will keep your fucking mouth shut, got it? Close this ghost face case and if anyone asks you don’t know anything about it. Give it up. All for me, okay baby?”

You nodded, not being able to say no to those brown eyes. It was toxic, whatever relationship you just found yourself in. You became that girl in books and movies who fell for the killer. It surprises you at how fast you were willing to drop everything for him. To keep his secret.

He kisses you gently and fucked you on the floor until you both came again and again and again.

What did you get yourself into?

— perm taglist: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @kangnina @jwnghyuns @in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi @eneiyri @sparklovespink @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty @ladyartemesia @psh9 @cmoundiamante @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

#yeonzzzn asks #— 🔪 anon #jake bby #jake sim #sim jake #sim jaeyun #sim jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #enhypen #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #enhypen hard thoughts #ghostface au #enhypen hard hours #yeonzzzn writing #ghostface!jake

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toxicanonymity · 9 months

Text

As ugly as he seems. Left in Lincoln pt. 6

8.4k words, dark dbf!Joel x virgin f!reader story master list / spotify playlist / joel master

You would've given anything for Joel to wake up and ravage you. “s’what I mean, baby,” he murmured sleepily into your hair. "Can't trust myself." He groaned softly as his palm brought you tighter against him.

WARNINGS: I8+, grinding, light somnophilia, thigh fucking, fingering, oral f receiving, P in V just the tip, reader menstruates, angst, pet names and praise, toxic dark joel, pining, obsession, horror vibes. he's sweet with reader, but he is. . . unhinged. NO Y/N.

—---

You were back home in your room, lying in bed looking at the stain on the ceiling when it all became hazy. You kept staring until your eyes watered and you could no longer see the spot at all. The air was thick with smoke and dread. There was shouting outside. You went to your bedroom window and opened it. The night was dark, but a flickering glow illuminated the scene in your backyard. The door to the spider shed was moving, flapping violently. When it opened, Joel Miller emerged in a white tank top and jeans and an ax slung over his shoulder. He stared at you but didn’t say a word or even nod.

He charged slowly but deliberately toward the house until he was out of sight and a loud crack downstairs told you he was swinging the ax. At the other end of the house, the shouting outside intensified. As Joel continued axing down the door, you followed the shouting down the hall and looked out a window facing the front yard. Bill and Frank were in the middle of the street fighting off infected who were crawling toward the house. Bill was shooting at them. Frank was futilely trying to put the fire out with a hose.

Frank saw you in the window and shouted, “STAY UPSTAIRS!”

The cracking at the door turned into splintering, then boots thudding up the stairs. You ran into the hall just as Joel crested the top landing. His biceps were smudged with ash but glistening and his hair was wild. He lunged toward you and crouched down, wrapping his arms around you in a hug before hoisting you over his shoulder to carry you. He carried you downstairs and to the kitchen where he unlocked the shredded back door. Once you got outside, Joel didn’t stop. He kept walking away from the house. Not toward his house, not toward anywhere. Over his shoulder, you could see the house shrink into the distance. The shouting continued but faded as Joel carried you away. Then, with a loud boom, the house was completely engulfed in flames.

You tried to scream, tried to beg Joel to save your fathers, but you couldn’t make a noise.

—------

You woke up at Joel’s house gasping for air and heard yourself making an awful noise, more like a murder of crows than anything human. You sat up and took deep breaths. Frank’s note repeated in your head: We love you so much. Protect yourself.

Within seconds, footsteps were ascending the stairs. The bedroom door opened, and Joel rushed over with a look of panic on his face. He was in boxers and a tight, white t-shirt.

He sat down and hugged your head to his chest. “Shhhhhhh, I’ve got you….. You’re okay. . . . you’re okay.” You felt safer in his big arms, but the dread wouldn’t leave you and you couldn’t slow your heart rate. When you didn’t stop sniffling, he asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare”

“‘About what, darlin’?”

“Our house was on fire and it felt like everyone was gonna die.”

He rubbed your back. “We’re okay, the house is okay.”

“I mean my family’s house.”

“Oh,” he muttered and his hand paused for a moment. He kissed your head, then his hand resumed its slow circles on the bare skin above your nightgown. “Oh, darlin’. That sounds like a real bad dream.”

“It felt so real.”

“I know, honey.” He held you tight and planted a kiss on the crown of your head.

You were so grateful to him for everything, but suddenly felt guilty about being at his house instead of yours. You told him, “I should be there taking care of things. I’m doing a bad job.”

But at the same time, going back there was the last thing you wanted. It was so scary, so lonely at your house before Joel came and saved you. It was terrifying to think about. You had to go back, the dream ripped open something deep in the back of your mind, something you couldn’t even discern, but which compelled you. You hoped Joel wouldn’t let you stay there alone. Of course he wouldn’t, you told yourself.

“You’re safer here, darlin’.”

“I know,” you whispered. “But I’m worried.”

He sighed. “Okay, peaches,” His large hand squeezed your arm and he kissed your head again. “We’ll go over there in the mornin’. How’s that?”

Relief washed over you at the sound of Joel’s offer. Finally the tension in between your shoulder blades began to release. “Thanks.” It was still the dead of night.

Joel asked, “Got room for an old man?” He seemed hesitant to leave you alone. Knowing he wouldn’t leave you finally helped your heart rate to begin to slow.

You nodded and Joel slipped into your bed. He put his big arm under your neck and hugged you from behind. He nestled you into him as a little spoon and held you tight as you fell asleep. Nowhere felt safer than Joel’s arms.

—------------

When you woke up, it was still dark. You had drifted slightly forward in the bed, and Joel’s embrace had loosened. Needing to be closer to him, you scooted back into his chest. He cupped your breast with a sigh, then curved his body against yours again. His breathing suggested he was still asleep. As he nestled his knees behind yours, the solid shape of his cock sent a shock of desire through you. Its shape and warmth were unmistakable, even though it was all new to you. Your body certainly recognized it and began to prepare itself for what it wanted.

You pushed your ass back against him and his body rewarded you with a twitch of his cock. He let out soft noise somewhere between a grunt and a whimper. You pushed back again, and his hips gently pushed forward. You slowly moved your hand to grab the bottom hem of your nightgown and tug it down so your bare nipple would be against his hand. As soon as the satin was out of the way, your nipple hardened against his palm and you caught a whimper in your chest before it had a voice. Joel’s palm pressed against your breast, and he sighed as his manhood swelled harder against your ass.

You would’ve given anything for Joel to wake up and ravage you, but you knew he wouldn’t. For a minute, you tried to ignore it all. You focused on his breathing. Even his breathing was masculine and protective. You had almost fallen back asleep when he began to massage your breast, and his hips began to push his wood against you at a slow, regular rhythm through the thin barrier of his boxers. Joel’s mouth was pressed into your hair and his body was actively cradling yours, no longer asleep. You were throbbing and a warm pool was forming between your legs.

You loosely tangled your fingers with Joel’s. His lower body broke away, and for a moment you regretted your gesture, as if it had snapped him out of a sleepful indulgence. But then his hips returned, and you gasped at the contact of his smooth, bare cock. It rested warm and hard against you with the head nudging the top of your crack.

“‘S’what I mean, baby,” he murmured sleepily into your hair. “Can’t trust myself.” He groaned softly as his palm flattened your breast and the same arm pulled you tighter against him. You began to reach behind you, but he intercepted your hand and held it against your chest instead. His massive palm cradled your own hand gently around your breast then left it there while he pulled down your panties. After taking them off, he wrapped his arm over you again.

With one arm under your pillow, he backed up enough to get clearance for his ample morning wood. He wedged his foot between your ankles to lift your leg ever so slightly, then nestled his cock between your thighs, right up against your throbbing seam.

Joel groaned at your wetness as his erection slid forward between your thighs, and you gasped when the thick head of his cock came to rest at your clit.

“Oh, darlin’,” he breathed. “I feel how bad you want it.” His arm flexed under your pillow. “Poor thing, all wet and swollen”

When you didn’t respond, he added “s’a good thing, baby. This all for me?”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“God damn,” he sighed and dragged his cock back. The crown stopped short of your entrance before reversing toward your clit again, and you whimpered. Your belly was warm and tingly.

Joel’s hand lightly grazed your abdomen on its way to your mound, then rested there. His cock slid back, and two fingers took its place where your wetness pooled. He swirled his finger gently and slowly. “‘s’perfect,” he whispered to himself.

He dipped his fingers halfway in and you gasped at the welcome stretch. He brought the wetness to your clit and began to draw circles. With his fingers out of the way, his cock slid forward again, bypassing your tight, wet hole, which spasmed at the proximity. “Oh, baby,” he breathed into your hair. “It’s too much to bear,” he groaned at a low, shaky pitch. Surely not compared to what he was doing to you.

Just the thought of him inside you–the thought of him occupying your body–was enough to tug at your tear ducts. Tears of need. He slid his cock back, then forward again, and when the tip reached your clit, it also met his fingers. You were getting pressure from both directions, and the tension in your belly threatened to burst. God, you wanted him, needed him.

He thrust his hips up against your ass with a sigh, moving his cock a little further, deeper between your thighs, as his hips flattened the plush of your asscheeks. Ohh, he knew how to make you feel good. Further, then back. Deeper, then back. He rocked in small movements, and the wet friction with your clit drove you crazy.

“Joel, please.” You pushed your ass back into him and your bodies moved in rhythm.

“Mm hmm, love feelin’ ya, baby.” Joel drove his cock a little faster, and his breathing became more labored.

“Me too,” you whimpered. He rubbed your clit as he fucked your thighs.

“I want it bad, baby. You feel that?”

“yea-I, it’s so, it’s so big.”

“When I’m real big and hard, that’s for you, baby.” His thrusts intensified. His breath was heavy and warm against your ear. “That’s all for you,” he whispered.

“Yes,” you whined.

He moved his hand back to your breast and you looked down. You watched the head of his cock appear and disappear between them and felt a new rush of arousal. The head was swollen and darker than you’d remembered.

Your spine arched and you whimpered, “Joel.”

He thrust hard with a grunt, laid his palm on your mound, and covered the head of his cock with his fingers as you began to pulse against him. He groaned with the throb of your climax and finally lost some composure. “God damn, I wanna fill you up.”

Your body jerked against him. “I, I– Joel-”

“Just, oh God, stuff you full of me.” His breath was ragged.

“I–” What you wanted to say was, I need it, I need you to. He kept thrusting between your slippery thighs, and kept you pulsing. Your waves of pleasure echoed, smaller and farther apart.

You pulled yourself together to ask, “Can, can I feel you come?”

“Wanna feel me come?” he panted as he fucked the warm, wet little pocket so close to where you wanted him.

“Yeah,” you whispered as he continued to accelerate.

“Yeah,” he repeated and kept thrusting.

“Please,” you asked.

“Go ‘head.”

He moved his hand back to your breast, groping you slowly but hungrily as he made room for your hand. His arm held you still as he railed between your thighs. “Oh, god damn,” he breathed into your hair as you cupped your hand around the tip of his cock. . “Oh, god-” Then he shuddered -- When his cock pulsed between your legs, it was so big, so powerful, like it was trying to push your thighs apart. A new wave of pleasure surged through you. You gasped as his hot load filled your palm. His breath was ragged against your hair, his chest heaving against your back. The warm, white spend kept coming, and coming. You held your hand steady as best you could as your heat twitched against him and his balls emptied.

You were both still and quiet, with his arm draped over you. His cum was still in your hand, but you didn’t want him to move. Once his cock began to soften, he slid it out from between your legs. He whispered, “I love you, baby” and kissed you on the head before going to get you a washcloth. Then you went to take a shower and he made the bed.

—-----

After breakfast, Joel walked with you down the street to your house. It felt like you were leaving a safe place. The broken asphalt was littered with debris from the storm, but it felt less spooky than when the two of you made the opposite walk, from your house to Joel’s. As your house came into view, you felt relieved that it looked intact, but guilty for leaving it unattended. Irrational as it was, you were also fearful, as if the house might be decaying from the inside out. The closer you got, the more you knew the terrible dream hadn’t faded from your mind. The mood of your nightmare followed you and made you envision the worst. You imagined the insides of the house gutted from a fire. Tall, black sheets, pieces of your life peeling off the walls. You imagined the insides grown over with weeds and mold. Then infected.

The dream made you see Frank’s note differently. Cautionary. It even made you see Joel differently. He saved you in the dream, but something felt wrong. He saved you, you kept reminding yourself. He saved you from the fire.

You knew these feelings would fade, but Joel could tell you were unsettled. He stopped you when you were coming up to your house. “You okay, darlin’?” Only then did you realize you had tears in your eyes.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered.

“C’mere, baby, I know it was scary.” He wrapped you in a hug. “Everything’s fine, you’ll see.”

Joel peeked his head inside the front door and gave the all-clear, then he checked the gardens while you went inside. You went to Bill and Frank’s room to make sure everything was okay and ready for them to come back. It was silly, but you checked under the bed, and behind the shower curtain, and even in the closet, looking for anything bad. Something lurking, growing, falling apart. You felt like there must be evidence of your neglect somewhere but you couldn’t find it.

While you were in their closet, a gray metal box caught your eye. You weren’t looking for it, but you were familiar with it. When you saw it, you had a strong impulse to take what was in it, lest a fire or horde of infected take it. It had been years since you opened the box, but it was just as it was. Your biological father’s wedding ring, a custom knife from your mother, and a loaded gun. You hesitated, then heard Frank’s words again: Protect yourself. You took a messenger bag of Frank’s off the closet shelf and nestled the objects in a zippered compartment.

—-

While Joel was still outside, you went upstairs and packed a few articles of clothing, an extra pair of shoes, and a book in the bag. You wondered if you should plan to stay in your own house again. Joel could stay there, too. It felt foregone that you and Joel would stay together, wherever you were, and thank God.

When you came downstairs from your room, you sat on the sofa. You recalled the first time Joel came over and comforted you right there. The rush you felt when he first embraced you and the aching throb when you felt him get hard. None of that had changed. You still felt it every time. The only thing that had changed was you. A void had opened up inside of you that only he could fill.

When Joel came back inside, he stopped at the threshold of the living room and looked at you sitting on the sofa. He put his hands behind his back, jutted his chest forward and stretched without taking his eyes off you.

He asked, “Ya miss it?” It was a casual enough question, the way he said it.

“Kinda,” you said. “But I feel at home when I’m with you.”

His face became serious and he stopped mid-stretch. He dropped his hands to his sides and his brows knitted as he approached. He sat down and put his arm around you. “You dunno how glad I am to hear that.”

You nodded, and when you looked up at him, his eyes were softer than you’d ever seen them. A new, gentler shade of brown. He took your cheeks in his hands and kissed you deeply.

“Need anything else before we go home?” Joel asked.

“Nah.” You picked up the messenger bag and saw Joel eyeing it.

You thought he might ask what was in it, but all he said was, “Neat bag,” and for some reason, you were relieved.

You trusted Joel completely but felt better when you were also “being smart,” as Bill would say. A person can only count on themself, you were taught. You got the sense Joel would like for you to leave everything to him, but he was only human. You had to protect yourself, too.

—---

On the way back to Joel’s house, there seemed to be something on his mind. “Look, peaches,” he started. “I’m sorry ‘bout this mornin’, in bed . . .” This ignited an unexpected flicker of anger in you. What did he need to be sorry about?

“Why?” you asked.

“Uh. . .”

“I wish you wouldn’t be sorry,” you added earnestly.

“Well, I’m sorry anyway.”

Incredulous, you asked, “What part do you regret?”

“No, baby, no, no, no.” He stopped walking and took your hands in his. “Nothin’ to regret. I just–I felt like I almost lost control.”

You scoffed. “I wish you would’ve.”

He squeezed your hands. “I want everything to be special for you. I’m not gonna catch you off guard like that.”

You asked, “You’re gonna tell me when, then?”

“We’ll decide together.” Right. Whatever.

It put you in a bad mood, so you started walking again, kicked a stick in the road, and changed the subject.

—-----

That night, over dinner, you asked, “How’s Tommy?” When Joel got back from the QZ, you had been so focused on Frank that you forgot to ask.

“Didn’t catch him,” Joel said.

“Oh, sorry.” After eating another bite, you asked, “Why doesn’t he ever come visit?”

Joel finished chewing and said, “I reckon Maria and the kids keep’m busy.”

“I don’t even remember what he looks like.”

“What are you talkin’ ‘bout? He looks like me, younger, less handsome.” Joel winked at you. Then he went to a kitchen drawer to get a leather wallet. He took out a worn, faded photograph of the two of them and handed it to you. They looked so young. They were both in work shirts and hard hats. Joel was strikingly handsome, but nothing compared to now. He looked happy, but you preferred his weathered scowl. Tommy looked shy compared to Joel. Tommy’s hair was longer and his arms were crossed, while Joel had an arm around Tommy’s shoulder.

You nodded, “a lot less handsome.” and Joel laughed. “But only because you’re that good looking,” you added. “I still don’t get why they don’t just move here,” you said. Joel had told you before: The farm life wasn’t for everybody. But from what Joel said about the QZ, that idea didn’t make much sense to you. If the QZ was so bad, why would anyone prefer it to Lincoln? And if the QZ wasn’t so bad, why were you never allowed to visit it?

Joel was quiet, and there was something about the quiet that unsettled you.

It came out of your mouth before you registered the thought. “Is he alive?”

“What? Tommy?” Joel’s face changed completely. “What kind of question is that? He looked at you like you were crazy. "‘Course he’s alive. Bill's stayin' with'm.”

You weren't even sure why you asked. “Sorry.”

Joel's face softened. "No, no, I'm sorry, darlin'." He put down his fork. “Truth is, I wish he would visit. But I don’t think he much likes seein’ me.”

“Why? You’re brothers.”

“I reckon it brings back bad memories.”

“Like what?”

Joel sat back in his chair and rubbed one side of his beard. “Things we did. . . Things I did." He shook his head and looked at the ceiling. Quieter, he added, “things I’ve done.”

You were quiet for a minute. You knew the answer, but you still asked, “Bad things? Like killing people?”

“Necessary things.” He nodded to himself.

“But you only killed bad people, right?”

Joel crossed his arms and his legs. “I don’t wanna scare ya, darlin’.”

“Please tell me, I wanna know all of you.”

He shook his head.

“Not just bad people,” you whispered in conclusion.

He swallowed, then looked at the table as he softly admitted, “Anyone who was in the way.” He didn’t look at you for a few seconds, then cautiously, his eyes began to rise to meet yours. “I would never, ever hurt you, darlin’. You’re the last person in the world I would–”

“I know,” you cut him off and took his hand.

His brows knitted as he searched your face.

"Darlin', the outbreak, it changed people. It's not somethin' ya can leave out there, either. If you knew what the world was like. . ." he trailed off.

You didn't talk for a few minutes, and in that time, something came over you. You didn’t know what the world was like. You heard that more times than you could count growing up. You were sick of not knowing. You might have been the only person left in the world who didn’t know. This was your chance, with Bill gone, if Joel could just take you out, even for a few hours one day.

Joel kept looking at your face as if he was trying to read your mind. Then you broke the silence: "Show me."

Joel looked over his shoulder toward the orchard. "Show – show you?" He swallowed.

"You said if I knew what the world was like. Show me. Take me out there. Just for a day."

He shook his head and looked down like there was no possible way, like it was such a definite no, it wasn’t even worth the energy of convincing you.

You insisted, "I know you can protect me." If anyone could protect you, Joel could.

"Peaches–"

"Take me out. Or you're gonna keep saying that for the rest of our lives, I just know it. That I don't know what it's like. Everyone says that."

"What did you just say?"

"Please, Joel, give me a chance, I know you can protect me."

"The rest of our lives," he repeated, marveling at your words, ignoring your point.

You swallowed and your cheeks burned.

He nodded, "That's right, baby."

—----

After dinner, Joel did some work outside and you stewed–about him holding out on you sexually, about him not wanting to ever take you out into the world. That night, all you did was kiss on the sofa and listen to his whispers about the rest of your lives. Once the kisses heated up and he hardened against your thigh, you said you didn’t feel well. If he wasn’t going to give you what you wanted, you didn’t want him getting you all riled up. When you said you didn’t feel well, Joel didn’t ask any questions aside from what you needed and how he could help.

When you went to bed, you thought about what he said. Things I’ve done. You thought about the Red Sox caps. And you slipped back into your fairy tale where he had done the worst things just to have you. It shouldn’t have made you feel better, but it did. It made you feel better, not worse. You knew in your gut Joel wanted you, and once you finally put your bodies together, you knew there would be no taking them apart.

—----------------------

The next day, you really did feel crummy. You went to the bathroom and found out why. You got your period. You had everything you needed – Joel had stocked your room really well, which made you emotional, and you felt bad for being mad at him.

After dinner, Joel came in from working outside and found you curled up on the sofa. He came over with two glasses of water.

“You okay, darlin’?”

“Yeah, I’m just tired. I don’t feel that good.”

“What doesn't feel good?”

“I have cramps. I just feel pretty bad. ”

He looked at you then sat down on the sofa. “What can I do?”

“You’re sweet,” you said. “Nothing you can do, though.”

“Well, mind if I join ya?”

You made room for him. Before he joined you on the sofa, he retrieved a plastic baggy from the kitchen and offered you a painkiller. You accepted half of one. Before it had a chance to kick in, you whined wordlessly as you tried to get comfortable.

“How ‘bout I run you a bath, darlin’?”

“Okay.”

“Bathtub’s nicer down here,” he said.

You went to get your bathrobe from upstairs and curled up on his bed while his bathtub was filling up. When the water stopped, you walked into the bathroom. It was nice, like Bill and Frank’s. The counter had two sinks. The bathtub was separate from the shower. It was a big garden tub nestled in its own nook in front of a window, with a ledge behind the end without the faucet.

Joel was sitting on the ledge with his sleeves rolled up, checking the water for you. “See how that feels.”

You dipped a toe in and nodded, then stood there for a moment until you realized he didn’t plan to leave.

“Ah,” he put his hands on his knees to stand up. “Lemme grab you a towel.”

—

You were still a little shy to get completely nude in front of him, but you wanted him to see how far you’d come in trusting him and being comfortable. By now, you were confident in Joel’s genuine appreciation for your body and every part of you.

You hung the robe on a hook on the wall, then stepped into the tub and sank into the water before he got back. You felt less exposed that way.

He put a stack of folded towels on the ledge behind the bath, then smoothed his hair with one hand. You looked at him and admired his big, veiny hands and forearms.

“How’s it feel?” he asked.

“Better already,” you told him.

“Good.” His eyes sparkled as he admired your body through the water then met your gaze again. “Want me to leave?”

You shook your head. “No, but – do you have to be so. . .” you looked him up and down and his brows knitted in concern. “Dressed?”

His face relaxed, then he raised his eyebrows and pointed at himself. “You want me undressed?”

You nodded and he began to unbutton his shirt. You didn’t watch the whole time, letting your eyes drift to the window. In a way, watching someone undress or dress felt more intrusive than seeing them naked. He stripped down to his boxers and undershirt, then neatly folded his shirt and jeans and set them on the bathroom counter.

He asked, “Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” he softly pinched your cheek. You wanted those strong arms around you more than anything, but you worried about your period. He was so neat and clean all the time that it was hard to imagine him willingly exposing himself to anyone else’s fluids.

“You could get in,” you offered. “Except for the blood,” you added apologetically. There was only a small diluted plume.

He cracked a smile and looked at you with soft eyes. “Blood don’t bother me, peaches,” he said. “Not one bit.”

“Really?”

“Not yours,” he clarified.

“It’s not like regular blood, sometimes there-”

He interrupted softly, “I know what a period is, darlin’. I’m almost sixty years old,” he chuckled. “Went to non-FEDRA school, too.”

“Almost sixty?” It gave you a rush to hear and a rush to say.

“If ya round up. That weird? Thought ya knew that, baby.” You knew he was in his late fifties. You celebrated his birthday at one of your last dinners. But somehow, hearing the number “sixty” was wild.

“It’s not weird.” You shook your head earnestly and suppressed a smile. It was flattering that Joel, with all that life experience, loved you. It was sexy, too.

Joel sighed. “So, am I cordially invited?” He eyed the water with a subtle smile, then he reached into the bath and gently caressed your lower abdomen. “It’s natural, darlin’. It’s beautiful.” He gripped the side of the tub and leaned in for a kiss. Then he pulled back and looked in your eyes. “Every part of you is beautiful. I’m just sorry it hurts.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Come on in.”

—---------

He stood up and faced you, then took off his white t-shirt. It was the first time you’d seen him shirtless in the daylight. He was weathered and tan. Scarred and strong. Strong, but soft enough to be comfortable. He dropped his boxers without shame. You averted your gaze, but what you saw of him made you even more amazed at how big it could get. You were flattered to have that effect.

You scooted forward to make room for Joel to get in behind you.

“You want me there?”

You wanted him everywhere, but you nodded. He stepped into the tub behind you and braced himself on both sides as he moved his feet forward. He settled in around you with a small splash, his thighs gently squeezing yours. He slid his huge hands under your arms to loosely embrace your torso then leaned back against the porcelain with a sigh, bringing you with him. You could feel his soft package and hair against you. You tried to relax into him, and he kissed you on the head.

He rested one of his hands on your lower belly. “You know we got the other half’a that pill, too, if ya need it,” he muttered.

“Thank you, Joel,” you said. “For everything.”

He planted another kiss on your head. “It’s my privilege, darlin’.”

He held you in silence, softly stroking your sides. Soon enough, you really relaxed back into him. You focused on the rise and fall of his chest under your back. You felt so attached to him, so in love with him you could cry. Suddenly, the idea of not having him wrapped around you at any point in your life made it hard to enjoy when he was. You knew you were emotional.

—---

Joel’s breathing became so slow and regular that you thought he fell asleep. You glanced back to check, and he was wide awake.

“Thought you fell asleep,” you whispered.

“No, darlin’.” He kissed you on the cheek, then you caught him looking at the water and you followed his eyes, looking for anything embarrassing he could have noticed.

He used two fingers to nudge your face back to look at him. “I love you,” he said, then kissed you on the lips. He whispered, “I dunno if I can ever show ya how much, but I’ll try.”

“I love you, too,” you said and felt your eyes gathering tears.

Joel sat up a little, concerned. “What’s wrong, baby.”

“I just wanna be with you forever,” you whimpered.

“Well that’s what we’re gonna do, baby.”

“Yeah, but. . .”

His heart rate sped up against your back.

“What if we can’t?” you asked.

He sighed and hugged you reassuringly. “Told ya there’s nothin’ in this world that can stop us bein’ together.” Your arms and his were crossed in front of you. He held both your hands, and kissed you on the head again.

—---------------------------

You were quiet for a minute, but still thinking. You asked, “What about when Bill and Frank get back?”

He took in a chest full of air, lifting you on his stomach. He released your hands as he exhaled. “What about it, darlin’.”

“What if they — I mean, I guess I’ll go back — I’ll go back to our house, right?”

Joel was quiet then asked softly but flatly, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” you answered quickly.

“Then why would ya?” He sounded more confused than hurt.

“Cause they’re my family.” Your tears began to silently fall.

“Look, peaches. I know you love’em, but you’re grown, You make your own choices.”

“I know,” you agreed.

“You decide who to be with. Ellie loves Riley. They’re a family now, the two of them. I shouldn’ta stopped her, right?”

“Right,” you whispered.

“We’ll be our own family, darlin’. You and me.”

Tears stopped up your nose and you sniffled, unsure if it could be that simple. “That’s what I want,” you whispered.

“That’s what we’ll do,” he reassured you.

“I just worry about, I don’t know. Maybe it’s not the same as going off with someone my age.”

“Ah,” Joel said. “You think they’d have a problem with it bein’ me.”

“I dunno, what do you think?” you asked him.

“I sure hope not, but you know’em better, baby.”

You sighed and stared at the water.

Joel continued, “I hope they want you to be with who you love. But if they don’t, is that gonna stop ya?”

“I hope not.”

“You . . .hope not?” His heart pounded under you.

His voice became serious and less measured. “It’s up to you and me, darlin’. We’re the ones who decide. No one else.”

You nodded, sighed, and wiped your eyes. The tub squeaked under him as he shifted so you could look at each other. You met his eyes for a moment, and he brushed a tear off your cheek. He brought a hand to cup your cheek. You looked down and continued, “I just don’t see how–”

“Marry me, peaches.” He said it softly, but it seemed to echo off the porcelain. Your heart went to your throat as you kept hearing it in your head. You stammered, “What?” and he just nodded. You asked, “How?”

“Marriage is just a decision. It means we decide we’re our own family, just the two of us, and nothin’ can take us apart.”

You softly gasped. “Joel. . . .”

“Ain’t that just what we want?” You were still processing it when he asked again, “that’s what you want, right?”

Your heart raced. You wanted it, you just didn’t see how it could be that simple. “Yeah, it’s what I want, but-”

“Then what’s the ‘but’ if bein’ together is all that matters?”

You must have looked upset, because he became apologetic. “I’m sorry darlin’, I know it’s a lot, learnin’ how all this works.” He cupped your cheek again. “I’m givin’ you my heart right now.” Looking into his eyes in that moment, feeling his skin on yours, you’d never been more sure of anything.

You reassured him, “There’s no ‘but’. I’m giving you mine, too.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, they were watery.

“I’m gonna ask you again, and I’m serious.”

“Okay,”

“Will you marry me,” he said in a near-whisper.

You looked from his eyes to his mouth and back and the how didn’t matter anymore. You nodded. “Yes,” you whispered. “That’s what I want.”

He exhaled and choked on a tearful laugh of relief, then he nodded with you. “I know it is, baby.” He kissed you long and soft on the lips. “But it feels good to make it official.” He wrapped his arms around you tight and kissed you on the head, then laid back against the tub, bringing you with him so you were both laid back, facing the faucet again.

—--------

“So what now?” You asked. “How do you make it official?”

“Well, I reckon it is, baby,” he said above your head. Your heart jumped, and not in a bad way. It felt like you were in a good dream.

He stroked your sides. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You asked, “We don’t have to do anything else?”

Joel sighed, then mused, “I reckon we could dress up nice and do somethin’ to celebrate.”

“Like what?” You adjusted your position between his legs.

He lowered his voice. “Like whatever you want.” He brought his lips to your ear. “Whatever you really, really want.” Your clit twitched and you were unsure if the gush between your legs was blood or arousal. You didn’t look to check.

“Really?”

“If you’re ready.”

“Now?”

“How ‘bout tomorrow, if you’re feelin’ better?”

“Yeah. . .”

He kissed you on the cheek again, then you turned your head for your lips to meet his. He pulled back to look at you and your tears of fear–fear of being without him–had been replaced by tears of relief. Hearing his conviction and seeing it on his face, that was what you needed. It was just a conversation, but somehow, it changed everything. If no one could take you and Joel apart, and you felt like you had what you needed forever.

He moved back to be fully behind you again and let you relax so you weren’t craning your neck to kiss him. He sighed and his big hands roved your front, one of them coming to rest on your breast.

His voice echoed hoarsely in the bathtub nook. “I love you, baby.”

“I love you, too.”

He pulled you closer into him and his cock twitched against your lower back. “We’re gonna have a beautiful life together.”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

Joel said, “As long as we’re together, that’s all we need, right?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. It felt too good to be true.

—------------------

Joel held both your breasts with you lying back against him in the tub. He palmed them over the waterline, then released the light pressure and used his palms to graze your nipples in light circles until they hardened. The desire that grew between your legs drowned out any echo of the cramps that led you into the bath.

His other hand carefully slid down between your legs. He fingered your floating curls, caressed your mound, then his whole hand cupped your bleeding seam. He used that hand to gently pull you into him and his manhood swelled against you. Then he brought his hand up to your lower abdomen and lightly stroked your skin. “How ya feelin’?” he murmured.

“So much better,” you said.

“I can kiss it even better if ya want.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Course I don’t. . . if ya don’t want.” His cock jumped and he sighed. “Let’s get ready for bed. How ‘bout that.”

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Wanna rest in bed a li’l bit?” His voice told you he didn’t want to rest.

“Yeah,” you nodded. Even if he wouldn’t be inside you that night, you finally knew when it would be. It felt less cruel.

Joel pushed himself up onto the ledge behind you, the firm tip of his cock grazing up your lower back, then stepped out onto the bath mat. He tied a towel around himself, leaving a significant tent, then held out a hand. You held onto him for balance as you stepped out, and he wrapped a towel around you. You dried yourself off, then bundled up in the bath robe. Joel grabbed another towel from the linen closet on his way out of the restroom.

“Just the nightgown, baby. Nothin’ else.”

While you were upstairs changing, he dried himself off, combed his hair, got dressed for bed, and laid a towel out on the comforter.

—--------

Joel was sitting on the side of the bed in his boxers and t-shirt when you walked in wearing just the nightgown. He opened his arms for you, and you stood between his knees. He held your hands and just looked at you for a few seconds, taking in all of you. His eyes watered.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as he wrapped his hands around your ass and buried his face between your breasts. He looked up at you and his eyes were still sparkling when he said, “So, so beautiful.” He guided you to lie down on the towel.

He kneeled on the bed, nudged your knees apart, and got between your legs. He lifted your nightgown up and planted a kiss on your mound, then your clit, before hovering over your body and putting his arms down on either side of your abdomen. He lowered himself as close as possible while being careful not to put any pressure where he thought you might be hurting. At that point, you were only aching for him.

He gave you a deep, long kiss on the lips then kissed each of your breasts and let his hips lay into the bed between your legs. It all started gentle, but he was overtaken by lust. He dipped his head to suck your neck, and as he dragged his lips down your chest, his eyes closed and his brows knitted together.

He lowered your nightgown under your breasts. His jaw flexed as he sucked the bottom of your breast, and a brush of his nose hardened your nipple.

Your back arched and your whole body erupted in goosebumps. He moaned into your skin as he sucked one breast and palmed the other. His ass flexed as his hips rocked into the bed. You wished his hips were rocking into you instead. You wrapped your legs around him and your knees under his arms urged him up toward you. “Joel, please.”

“Don’t wanna hurt ya, darlin’.”

“You’re not gonna.” You tried to pull him up more urgently, dying for his loins against yours. He read your face and cracked half a smile. You must have looked so desperate.

“Okay, baby,” he whispered and let you pull him just where you wanted him. Oh god, the wave of arousal his hardness sent through your body.

“Can you take off your clothes,” you whispered.

He wordlessly slipped out of his t-shirt and boxers and the sight of his erection made you weak. He let you wrap your legs around him and pull him into you again. His hard cock met your mound. He sighed at the skin-to-skin contact and a look of pain spread over his face. He lowered himself more, pressing his arousal against you, nudging your clit. You whimpered as a bolt of need shot through your already weeping core.

“I’m ready,” you said. “I want you inside me.”

“Almost,” he replied. “Tomorrow, remember?”

You groaned in frustration. “Is it because of my period?”

“Course not, baby.” He kissed his way down your stomach and put your thighs over his shoulders. He planted a kiss on your clit, then licked into your seam. He moaned and prodded your entrance with his tongue, then swirled it around your clit, his hips rocking into the mattress again. He let one leg down and fingered you before devouring you with his mouth again. You could feel it building in your belly, but it wasn’t how you wanted to come. You wanted to feel him.

“Come back,” you whined. “Please. I wanna feel you against me, like the first time you made me come.” He slid his fingers out of you, and tore his mouth away, wiping both on his discarded boxers.

He held his cock as he looked at your body with heavy eyelids. He got in position between your legs, swiped the head of his cock through your slick, and laid his shaft onto your mound. He leaned forward, kissed you deeply and the stiffness of his arousal was hot against your skin. You throbbed as he began to grind against you. You ached to be filled by him. Only one more day, but it felt too long.

He swiped his cock between your legs to get it wet again, and he hesitated with the swollen head at your entrance. “Ohh, baby,” he sighed, lingering with his tip right there, where only a push of his hips would do it.

Your whole body went weak as it tried to suck him in.

You asked, “Can you try it, just a little bit?”

“Oh, darlin’,” he groaned. He shook his head no, then brought his tip back above your clit. His cock slid hard and wet against you.

“Please Joel,” you begged. “To make sure I'm ready.” You held his arms with both hands. "Tomorrow can’t be perfect if I’m not ready."

He laughed softly. “You want it that bad, don’t ya.”

He leaned over you and kissed your head, then your lips. Once again, he gathered your wetness with the tip of his cock, making your walls twitch. He pressed the tip firmly against your most sensitive place and exhaled raggedly as you throbbed against him. He used his tip to massage your swollen clit. Your chest swelled with a sigh and arch of your back. He closed his eyes and groaned, and the distress on his face told you he was hanging onto his last shred of restraint.

“Put it in, just a little,” you whispered.

“Just a little,” he finally agreed.

—----

He put your knees up a little bit, then aligned his body over yours and nudged your entrance with the head of his cock. It felt so right. You’d never wanted anything as bad as you wanted him. He pushed the curve of his tip in just far enough to stay notched there as he hovered over you with both arms on the bed. The crown still wasn’t breaching your walls, but when he looked down at you and pushed a little further, you felt a slight burn with the stretch.

“How’s it feel,” he asked.

“G, g, good,” you whimpered. “So good.”

He laughed silently at how much was left to go.

“Am I ready enough? Can you tell?”

“Let’s see, baby.” He slowly pushed his hips forward, giving you his entire massive tip and you groaned. It felt even better than you imagined.

“Just a little more,” you whined.

He pushed a smidgen further. The stretch felt like you were being spread open and made into something else, something combined with him. You felt your face contorting and your spine arched with the beautiful stretch. “Oh Joel,” you gasped. “I—it-”

“Breathe, baby.”

He brought his hips back ever so slightly, then moved it in and out of you in small, shallow pulses. It felt so right, your eyes welled up in tears.

“That’s all, baby,” he whispered. “That’s all for now,” but he kept doing it, pushing just slightly in and out of you. You watched his arms flex and his face twist as he kept giving you the tip.

“Ah,” He bit his lip as he gently fucked you with his tip. “Oh God, I wanna–ohh,” he cut himself off with a groan, then sighed, "wanna stuff my whole self inside ya baby."

“Please do it,” you begged. “please-”

“Oh, fuck—"

"Don't stop-”

“-i, i–i gotta” He groaned, then pulled out. He held his cock while he lifted his knees to straddle you and press your thighs together. Then he slid his cock between your thighs, right up against your folds. He thrust into your thighs just twice and came, slowly moving it back and forward, painting your folds with his warm seed. “Feel–feel too good, baby.”

The pulsation of his cock sent you for your own orgasm. You gasped and writhed and whimpered his name as you came against his cock. You were hugging his cock so tight, your pulsations beating into each other’s loins so hard.

He lowered his weight onto you as you both finished. Then he got on his side next to you.

"I want you to do that inside me " you told him.

He dipped his fingers between your legs, into his cum.

"Want me to fill ya up with that?"

"Yeah."

"Leave it inside ya?"

"Yeah."

He whistled silently, then murmured, "can't wait to, baby." His face was pink and his temples glistened.

He kissed you on the lips, then you laid in silence for a minute.

You sighed and said, "that felt really good, being full of you like that."

"Ohh, darlin'," he laughed. "''m afraid ya don't know what full means." He read your eyes, kissed you tenderly, then whispered, "Yet."

You bit your lip, then he kissed you again.

“I’ll run the shower for ya.” Joel went to the bathroom and the water turned on in the standing shower.

You followed him, and as he checked the water temperature you asked, “Am I gonna have your last name?”

“I reckon ya do,” he said and planted a kiss on your lips.

—-----------

After your shower, you got dressed for bed again, and Joel asked you to sleep with him. He dozed off quickly, but you didn’t. You were too excited. Once you did drift off, you slept light.

In the middle of the night, you heard a vehicle and urgently woke Joel up. He didn't hear it.

“I swear, Joel,” you insisted, but it stopped.

“It’s okay, baby,” he reassured you. “Just a dream.”

He held you and kissed you until your heart rate slowed and you drifted off to the feeling of his breathing.

—----------

PSA. 💒 According to Joel, they're married now. They just are, that's all there is to it. Only thing left to do is "celebrate" 🍆

------------

THANK YOU sooo much for reading and engaging!! I appreciate your comments, discussion, sharing, and reblogs so much, I can't even tell you. Especially when I get labeled so quickly so often. I love you guys! I see you in the wild and I'm like, aw I love them.

And if you're new - I also have another dbf!Joel series, non-horror, but still somewhat of a twist (Trouble AU) at the top of my joel master list. The master list also has a virgin section lol.

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All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea@evyiione@xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious@chernayawidow@ambassadortotrilliusprime@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@jasminespringtime @romanarose@fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore@blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires@taeslarityy@str84pedro@lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy@fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine@worhols@fan-fiction-floozy@cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl@feministfanboi@gracieispunk@prettypartyfavor@am-3-thyst@babeincolor@milla-frenchy@switchbladedreamz@within-the-depths@am-3-thyst@may-machin@pedromania91 @sloanexx@paleidiot

@gab-thelamb-onthemoon

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #dark!joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #dbf!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#lincoln!joel☠️#joel miller smut #cw age gap

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love4thetinas · 3 months

Text

INKED ( Pt. 1 ) - a jake webber story

summary: jake is in need of a new tattoo artist, and he thanked his lucky stars to be blessed with such a beautiful one.

WARNINGS: slight spiciness, mentions of needles, idk just a bunch of flirting

4.4k words

┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐

Jake was an addict.

Well, a tattoo addict. He would get at least one new tattoo pretty much every week. He loved looking at himself in the mirror after a shower, admiring the myriad of small colourful drawings along his arms. His roommate, Johnnie, even walked in on him doing this the other day and saw him flexing in the mirror - a story they both agreed would stay strictly between them.

But unfortunately, his usual artist closed up shop in the last month, and he was craving another fix of ink on his skin. So he searched around for a new one to fulfil these needs of his.

He opened up Google on his phone - ‘tattoo artists near me’ - and checked the first few results and their reviews.

The first two looked pretty decent, however, there were some mixed reviews about either the cleanliness and/or hospitality. Jake figured that if he was going to get stabbed a few thousand times, it might as well be in a nice enough place.

So he checked the third one.

It was close (only about a 10-minute drive), the photos on their website and Instagram looked awesome, and it had almost perfect reviews:

‘Brilliant work! Will definitely come back’

‘Incredibly talented artist, well done’

‘Friendly, hospitable environment 5/5’

“Hm,” he hummed to himself, going to check their prices which turned out to be reasonable as well.

DM FOR SAME DAY BOOKINGS

‘Perfect!’ He thought as he followed the link on their website to the shop’s Instagram, crafting a message to send.

Hi there, I want to get a couple of tattoos done and was wondering if you had any slots free today ?

He sat with the chat open for about a minute, crossing his fingers as he waited.

But soon he saw three dots appear by his keyboard.

Manager here, of course! We’d love to take your booking,

But just a couple of things before i put you down, can you give a rough idea of what tattoos you’d like and where you would like them?

“Yes!” Jake cheered for himself in a whisper, punching the air in front of him triumphantly before he replied.

I was thinking just some red and black stars on my lower lower stomach? Maybe like 3 on each side if that’s alright?

Jake responded hesitantly, hoping there would be enough time for him available since he didn’t want to have to come back on another day. But his fears were settled promptly,

Perfect. That’s all fine to go ahead, I actually have a slot for you myself at 3:15 this afternoon if that works for you? You’ll have to put down a small deposit and then you pay the rest in full once it’s all done :)

They sent over the transfer details.

He checked the time at the top of his screen, 11:42, he had plenty of time to get ready and he didn’t have plans for the rest of the day. Looks like he would be coming home with yet another colourful trophy on his skin to show off to all his friends and fans.

Awesome, that sounds great thanks a lot man! I’ll pay you now

He replied happily as he walked up to his room, watching as they typed on the other end.

No problem, see you later :)

He huffed a breath out of his nose at the little emoticon smiley face; who would’ve thought a tattoo artist would text so cutesy?

Later that day Jake got in his car, ready to drive over to the studio, quickly fixing his hair in the rearview mirror and chucking on one of his Spotify playlists before he set off. The address was on their website and he put it in his phone for directions.

After roughly 3 songs had finished he spotted the shop, going to park up on the curb across the street. But as he went to open his door he noticed that it was still only 3’o’clock and he had maybe been a little bit eager with the time he left the house, so he went and got himself a coffee at the Starbucks across the street and had a cig outside while he waited.

But as soon as the time on his phone ticked over to 3:15, he was up there.

He looked around the room where there were three other people he could see getting tattooed. The walls were covered in posters and graffiti, loud music playing over the noise of the tattoo guns and artist/client chatter - it was like some sort of vintage, punk hangout, except it was most likely a lot more sterile and visibly a lot cleaner.

Jake walked up to the counter where he figured he was supposed to wait for the guy he spoke to on Instagram to come meet him.

His foot tapped nervously on the ground as he waited. Tattoos didn’t usually scare him, but it was more the fact that he wasn’t used to this new environment and artist. But he was sure it would be fine, they sounded nice enough over text.

A door opened up towards the back of the space from what he assumed was one of the private rooms and a guy and a girl came out, both covered in tattoos, chatting as they made their way to the front of the store.

But to Jake’s surprise, it was the girl who came up to the desk to greet him.

“Hiya,” she said with a closed-lipped, pierced smile, “How can I help you?”

“Uh…” Jake stuttered, he was always prone to that, but especially now, talking to her. “I’m Jake? I messaged your guys’ manager earlier for an appointment at 3:15?” he confirmed as she looked up at him from over the desk.

“Oh perfect!” she exclaimed, “I’m Y/n, the manager.” she clarified.

“Now, we don’t have any more space out here so we’ll have to be in one of the private rooms towards the back, is that alright?” she asked, gesturing to where she had just come from as she started to walk back out from behind the counter, but Jake didn’t hear a word she said.

He felt bad for even thinking it, but he expected some sweaty, bearded biker-dude to be the manager of this place. He was taken back as soon as she had told him otherwise; not in a sexist way or anything, but the image he conjured up in his head beforehand could not have been more different to the woman before him.

She was quite frankly gorgeous. Dare he say it the most gorgeous girl he’d ever met. And she was so… cool, you know?

With black hair, a few piercings, and some tattoos visible on her forearms and collarbone, and as she turned around to lead him away he noticed the small one behind her ear. Not to mention her fashion sense. But it was the way she carried herself that really drew Jake in.

Not once did she break his eye contact, not once did she walk without a strut in her step. Not once did she falter in any way.

“Uh- Sorry, what did you say?” he laughed nervously, having been too distracted, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as she turned back to face him.

She laughed as well, only for a second, but that was enough for Jake to decide that it was the prettiest laugh he had heard in his life. But he forced himself to snap out of it this time for he could not ask her to repeat herself for the second time.

“I said we’re gonna have to go in one of the private rooms at the back ‘cause there’s no space out here,” she motioned to all the occupied seats. “Are you okay with that?”

“Oh!” he managed to hear her this time and nodded. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he smiled widely.

And gosh, was Y/n just trying to stay professional.

She hoped that her client didn’t pick up on the way her eyes scanned his body when she walked up to him, or how her stomach flipped as he ran up beside her and she saw how tall he was, or hell, how good he smelt.

“So,” she started to make conversation as she led him towards the door to the private tattoo room, “how’s your day been so far?”

Jake's ears perked up at the sound of her voice once again, snapping himself out of a daydream to answer the question, “Alright. Yeah, it’s pretty good.”

His smile. Fuck, his smile.

“And you?” he returned as they got up to the door which was slightly ajar so he skipped in front of her and held it open, like a proper gentleman, waving a hand for her to go inside as if to say ‘after you.’

Y/n giggled to herself under her breath as she followed him through the door, taking over to close it behind them, turning back to face him as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Same old same old,” she answered his question with a shrug, “but it’s not too bad.” she smiled.

“Take a seat in my office,” she laughed and gestured towards the tattoo bed as she sat down in her own chair beside it.

“Cozy office,” he matched her energy after looking around the room and taking note of the decor, picking up the pillow that lay at the head of the bed and fluffing it a bit, then holding it on his lap.

“Thank you,” Y/n said quickly as she took the iPad from off the table next to her, along with the stylus, and opened up a drawing pad. “So, you said you wanted some stars, yeah?” she looked up at him.

He nodded as he peeked over to see her screen.

“Sick. Alright, can you show me where?” she asked while once again making the same eye contact, tilting her head to the side and resting the end of the stylus on her teeth, making Jake’s brain go blank.

“Oh- yeah sure,” he tilted his head down, flicking some hair from his fringe out of his face as he lifted up his black tank top. “Just like, three stars on each side,” he traced along his pronounced V-line, even bunching up the waistband of his jeans to reveal more skin. “I was thinking they could be bigger at the bottom and get smaller at the top? And like alternate between black and red with a black outline.” he described in detail what and where he wanted them, but all Y/n could see were his slender fingers running over the prominent trails leading to his pelvis.

All she could hear was his deep, deep voice, with that Southern twang that could lull even the most chronic insomniac into a peaceful sleep.

Of course she was still listening, in fact, it only made her pay even closer attention to what he was saying. She watched very intently as he described the size and placement of it all.

Once he was done explaining he looked back up again, “Yeah, that’s about it,” he shrugged.

However, she was still looking at where his hands had just been - it was only when he dropped his shirt back down that her head flicked back up for her to meet his gaze again, one corner of his mouth being upturned to the slightest degree, but it was enough to catch her attention.

She got to sketching on the iPad, and because it was a relatively simple design it didn’t take long. Soon the template was printed out and she brought it back to Jake who was still sitting patiently on the bed, swinging his legs off the edge but stopped as soon as she came in, leaving her no choice but to stifle her giggles.

“Okay, I’m gonna need you to bunch up your shirt a bit and loosen your belt as much as you can so I have some room to work with, alright?” she asked him as she walked back to the table beside him, putting on some black latex gloves from the drawer.

“Alrighty,” he sang as he did exactly that, standing up briefly and turning around as he adjusted the tightness of his belt and the height of his underwear. “No peaking,” he teased with his back towards her.

She scoffed at his words, but she could not help thinking, ‘You think he saw me staring?’ Because where usually she didn’t care about such a thing, she felt the need to keep everything strictly business.

After he was done he sat back down in his previous spot.

“Could you lay back for me?” she asked politely as he gave her a little salute as he followed her command.

“Yes, ma’am,” he joked as he followed her orders once again. She scoffed to hide her smirk at the nickname - she knew he knew what he was doing.

She moved her chair over and placed the stencil over where he wanted it, then asked him to sit up and check if the placement was all right and he assured her that it was perfect.

So without another word, she started to print the stencil onto his lower stomach.

“Tss-” Jake hissed slightly as she rubbed the drawing onto his skin which made her head flick up to him.

“Cold?” she chuckled, assuming his noise was due to the gel used to transfer the image.

However, Jake cursed himself internally for his reaction. “Nah, it’s all good,” he replied honestly. He thanked God he managed to play it off because he truly didn’t know what caused it - perhaps it was her hands touching him so delicately…

“Okay, you ready?” she asked as she picked up the gun, dipping it in the ink and moving it closer to where she would start.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said cockily as he put his hands behind his head.

So she counted down from three and got to work. But something she noticed was that when the needle pierced his skin his breath hitched.

And he was typically good with pain, but this was something different.

“Does it hurt?” she chuckled, not stopping as she angled her head to the side to look up at him, making him deny it quickly.

As she continued tattooing she tried her best to tune out the slight huffs and groans coming from the man below her hands, and instead focussed on asking him questions.

“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked casually as she stared only at her work.

This gave him the opportunity to look at her instead, watching her skilled hands draw such perfect lines. “Oh,” he wondered how in-depth he should go with his answer, “I do YouTube, I make some music too.”

“Yo, what? Awesome!” she said excitedly, “You’ve gotta be pretty good to live out here in the Hills.”

He laughed slightly, “I’m alright,” he stayed humble as to not come off cocky. “What about you-” he started but kicked himself immediately after he said it.

She laughed this time, looking up to meet his eyes, “What do you think?” she held up the gun.

“But you’d think this would be easier by now,” she mentioned, “you chose the most awkward angle in the world for me to work with.” She was half-joking, but she also tried to readjust her arm positioning on his torso to make it easier.

“Sorry,” he chuckled as he watched her struggle, he was going to suggest something to make it easier, but he decided against it.

As she kept going he had to keep telling him to stop fidgeting because he would squirm and move practically every two seconds, but he swore it wasn’t hurting that bad.

As he kept apologising and they kept making small talk she butted in with another question, “You’re not from around here, are you?” She didn’t want to sound rude, but she could not focus on anything else but that hint of country in this alt boy’s accent.

“Nicely noticed,” he praised with a hum, “I’m from Kansas in the midwest, out in the sticks and the mud!” he put on a heavy country-boy voice as he said it, making her cough out a laugh.

“What about you?” he flipped the question back on her.

“Born and raised,” she smiled sarcastically. She’d always wished to go somewhere else but never had the chance. “I’ve lived in this same area my whole life. Still live in a house just down the road,” she shrugged and nodded in the direction she meant, returning to focus on her work.

“Oh yeah? D’ya live with your boyfriend…?” he asked slyly, slightly hesitant but he figured it could just be an innocent question. And while she wasn’t looking at his face she could practically sense the smirk on his beautifully plump lips.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head and replied, “I don’t have a boyfriend, I live alone.” she clarified.

“Hm,” he replied simply as he laid his head back again.

“What about you then?” she started the conversation back up, “Live alone?”

“Nope,” as soon as he spoke her heart dropped, shit. Was she misreading all of this?

“I’ve got two roommates, but no girlfriend,” he said confidently, making Y/n’s heart rate go back to normal.

God, he was good.

“Hm,” she mimicked his response in him same tone and carried on.

But after a couple minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, while they both listened to the music playing through the speakers, she piped up again. “Ugh,” she exclaimed, making Jake open his eyes and look back down at her as she moved her chair back and forth, “you really did choose the most awkward place for me to tattoo! You know that?” she complained light-heartedly with a laugh at her inability to find the right position. “It’s hard for me to reach across like this,” she demonstrated the tricky angle for him to see.

“You keep saying that,” he laughed deeply and then went quiet once more, but when she looked up at him she saw that the cogs in his brain were spinning rapidly.

“You know,” he started, making Y/n turn her attention back to him as he spoke, “you could always just sit here,” he nodded his head down to his legs and her eyes followed.

He said it. He finally said what he had been thinking for the past 30 or so minutes.

“Uh… what?” Y/n said nervously.

There was no going back now.

“You heard me,” he smiled, trying his best to stop his lips from curling up into more of a smirk so as to not intimidate her, but he definitely knew he wasn’t alone in feeling like he was. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be weird, it just might be easier for you, yeah?”

She thought about it, she really really did, but she knew she couldn’t.

“I’m sorry, it would be unprofessional of me,” she said, still trying to convince herself not to just straddle his lap right there and then, having to look away from him because she knew that if he looked at her one more time with those puppy-eyes it would be a whole different story.

“I assure you it doesn’t have to be,” he persuaded. That voice of his smooth like silk - the most enchanting, compelling silk ever spun.

She bit her lip and took a deep breath in, then she looked at the camera in the corner of the room. No one else saw the footage but her, it’s not like she would lose her job.

Fuck it.

“Fuck it,” she said as she climbed on, carefully placing a knee on either side of his long legs and leaning forward to test how the new angle worked for her.

“Better?” he responded in a ‘told-you-so’ type of way - he was getting cockier by the second now he had gotten what he wanted.

She got back to work and looked up at him this time through her lashes, flicking some hair out of her face, “It is, actually.”

She noticed the way he looked down at her every now and again and recognised what went on behind his dark brown eyes - but she paid no attention. Y/n figured that the best course of action was to act as if this was a perfectly normal day and that she did this with every client.

She didn’t.

Her best efforts were put into ignoring his burning stare, and his gorgeous hair, and his perfect nose, and his sexy smile; his arms, his revealed torso that she was constantly touching; him.

But he, on the other hand, used her beauty as a way to distract from the pain of the relentless needle piercing his skin. Her face, her eyes, the expression she made when she concentrated, her body on him.

And time flew, meaning that in what felt like too soon, it was done.

Y/n wiped away the final bit of ink and admired her work, scootching back so Jake could sit up a bit and see for himself, “What do you think?” she asked nervously, as it was always a bit scary showing clients what you’ve etched into their bodies for life.

He shuffled up to have a good look at it, then at her, then back at his stomach. “It’s…” he drew it out, “Perfect!”

A wave of relief washed over Y/n as she sighed, noticing Jake’s line of sight had been aimed at her again.

“Thank you, Y/n,” he said sincerely.

She just smiled, listening to the way her name fell off his lips like it had been waiting on the edge for a lifetime. But then she looked down and realised that she was still practically sitting on his guy’s lap, so she quickly scrambled off and stood next to the bed again, going to fetch a ‘second skin’ from her drawer.

Jake could not help but feel a little disappointed when she seemed so desperate to get it all over with. The last thing he wanted was to have made her at all uncomfortable.

But she wasn’t. As soon as she came back and put the protective layer over his tattoo she looked up at him again from her chair, “You’re very welcome.”

They both made their way back into the main room, smiling and laughing with each other as they continued talking, but in the cold outside room, the burning hot rope of tension that tied them together became even more astoundingly apparent.

She tried to break the tie by going behind the till, leaving him on the other side.

His total appeared on the screen and he paid. He actually paid a lot more than he should have, not taking his eyes off her even once as he did so.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/n,” he said somewhat solemnly. He knew he was most likely going to see her again, this definitely wouldn’t be his last tattoo, but it felt akin to saying goodbye to a loved one, even though they had only been in each other's presence for less than a few hours.

“Have a good rest of your day, Jake,” she returned, a similar feeling rising within her, but she couldn’t let that through to the surface.

And just like that, he was turning around and walking out of the store, walking away from her as she watched him from the back as he left.

Both of their stomachs turned as they suddenly felt incomplete, like there was something left to do but now they’ll never have the chance to do it. It was crazy how before today they had never realised there was a hole in both of their lives to fill until it had been satisfied for the first time. Yet, their time together had been so brief in the bigger scheme of things.

Jake would not let that slide.

As he was halfway down the stairs something in his brain set off an alarm and she shot back up the stairs and back up to the desk, catching her just before she walked away.

What’s the worst that can happen?

What’s the best?

“Oh,” she turned and saw him again, slightly surprised, “did you leave something?”

“Yes,” he said very quickly. “No,” he threw in shortly after, shaking his head rather frantically, leaving her slightly confused and letting out a chuckle.

“Do you think I could…” he clenched his teeth and decided that he would regret not shooting his shot if he left now, so he told himself to just come out and say it.

“Do you think I could get your number?” he blurted out, a hopeful glint in his eyes that made her body react with a physical response.

But she couldn’t, this was her job, and she could get in a lot of trouble, even as the manager. “I-” she stuttered, not knowing what to say, and then took a breath. “I’m sorry but it would be wrong, I’m at work,” she sighed, and he could clearly see that’s not what she truly wanted either.

At least he had done it now and he wouldn’t have to live his life in wonder. “That’s alright,” he said half-heartedly, but trying his best to play it cool.

But he decided to try just once more.

“Uh,” he started again, making her gaze fix back on him. God, those eyes of hers - he had the feeling they could settle wars with just a glance if they let her. “What if I asked you after your shift?” he proposed, crossing his fingers behind his back, praying to whatever was out there that she would just say yes.

And as he asked again something within her screamed at her, ‘Just say yes!’, a doubt inside her was settled and happiness took its place, but she remained collected. She tried to stop the smile from rising on her lips, but as she spoke it was audible in her voice, “It would still be unprofessional,” she started and watched as his face dropped, so she quickly finished her sentence, “But… I get off at 7.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

my first ever fic ! hope you guys enjoyed, comment if you wanna see part 2 i’ve already got it all planned out.

all requests taken in my bio !! xx

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#jake webber #jake webber fluff #jake webber smut #jake and johnnie #colby brock #johnnie guilbert #sam golbach #sam and colby #fanfic #fluff #tattoos #jake webbers tattoos are so sexy #jake webber is just so sexy

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hwaslayer · 1 month

Text

project: make you love me (jyh) | eighteen.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.7k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, yunho being the best boy to his mom and aunt [best boy in general], a lil run in with yunho's ex, yunho and oc just being so soooo in love, small kisses, lots of affection and sweet moments <33

—a/n: one more chapter to go for these lovebirds 💕 happy birthday to our sweet yuyu!! also, next weekend, i'll be posting home (khj). lmk if you want to be on the taglist, but it'll be quite an angsty fic!

♣︎ 2 MONTHS LATER

"No, stop. Yunho." You almost whine when you hear Yunho sigh on the other line.

"I'm sorry, my girlfriend typically calls me babe."

"No, you're not listening to me. I told you it was fine, I promise."

"Baby, I'm not missing your competition." He says lowly, sitting in the chair while him and his mom wait for her doctor to come in. Your competition fell on the weekend Yunho went home, his mom's important check-in with her primary care physician being scheduled on the same Saturday. He had originally scheduled her check-in for the week, but had to reschedule and open up clinic hours on Saturday due to an emergency that arose at home. Yunho already felt guilty enough that he wouldn't be able to accompany her during the week, so when the news broke that it had been rescheduled for the weekend, Yunho immediately drove home.

And you, being the sweetest and most understanding, hugged him tightly and wished them well. Even though at the bottom of his heart, he also felt guilty for leaving you knowing what the weekend held.

You reassured him over and over again that he didn't need to drive all the way back just to see you, but Yunho couldn't take no for an answer. The appointment was early on, and he knew he'd make it just a bit into the start of the competition. He didn't care if it'd tire him.

He just wanted to be there, too.

"I don't care if you do. Your mom needs you the most. My competition is just a competition."

"I know how much this means to you, though."

"There will be more, k? I promise there will be more opportunities for you to cheer me on." He sighs.

"Including this one."

"You're so stubborn." You half-heartedly scold him with a chuckle. "Go. Be with your mom. Please."

"I'll see you in a bit."

"Jeong Yunho." You give off a small groan, making him laugh.

"I love you." He says all loud and proud, making his mom silently chuckle off to the side while her son continues to show off his affection.

"Yeah, love you too. Even though, you don't listen to me!" You scold once more before hanging up.

"Ah, she's a piece of work." He mutters to himself as he does a head tilt.

"She's cute." His mom says, sitting on the chair in front of him, making Yunho chuckle.

"Hm, equally cute and a handful." Yunho leans onto his knees. "You're still okay with coming to her competition, right?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." She gives Yunho a sweet smile. "I hope she doesn't mind that we'll be there?"

"Of course not. She'd be happy to see you and auntie."

"Is her family going to be there, too?" He nods.

"You'll finally meet them." She laughs.

"I'm sure they're just as lovely as her."

At this point, the doctor knocks on the door a few times to signal his entrance before walking in, a bright smile on his face as he greets the both of them. The check-up carries on for close to an hour, where Yunho is listening attentively to make sure he's taking note of what to do to keep his mom healthy and comfortable. Towards the end though, he's satisfied with how everything turns out and he's happy to know his mom is doing well and is stable.

On the way out, he holds her by the arm, going over the visit and proudly reassuring his mom that she was doing great with taking care of herself and her health. He helps her into the car and makes sure she's buckled in before walking over to the driver's side and rushing over to the house to pick up his aunt. Once everyone is in the car and ready to head to the competition, Yunho makes a quick stop at a floral shop to buy you a bouquet. He shyly rolls his eyes and blushes when his mom and aunt tease him about it, his mom saying she rose him well and that you'd love the flowers.

When Yunho arrives, he sees a few people still trailing into the venue and it eases his mind a bit that he's not the only one walking in late. He gets lucky with parking in the main lot next door, careful to keep up a good pace that both his mom and aunt are able to work with. Getting inside, the competition has already started [as expected], but the group performing isn't one he's familiar with. Yunho holds onto the huge bouquet of flowers he bought, setting it onto his lap when they settle in a few open seats near the middle. He lets out a breath of relief when he quickly scans the program and sees that your group isn't up until later.

Overall, it's a pretty lively event and everyone in the crowd is cheering and roaring no matter what the occasion is on stage. It isn't a huge competition, and a lot of the groups are smaller than your own dance group; but everyone seems to be happy on stage and enjoying themselves. Yunho thinks that's all that really matters, and it's nice for people who have the same passion to get together for some fun, friendly competition.

Plus, he's enjoying himself because his aunt and his mom are— he truthfully was afraid it would be too loud or chaotic for them, but he feels relieved and a bit more comfortable. Everything moves so, so fast that the one moment he blinks, he finds the lights dimming before shining onto familiar faces.

He sees your familiar figure. Your friends.

He feels his heart beating out of his chest, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. He knows you and your friends will kill it out there and he's excited for the crowd to see what you have in store. He finds himself with a major death grip on the arm rests because he feels himself wanting to get up and cheer you on in the middle of the aisle [regardless of how embarrassing that may be, he doesn't really care]. But, he manages to stay still; though his eyes glow and are full of admiration.

He is utterly enamored by you, and Yunho's mom and aunt think it's the sweetest thing.

You gracefully and powerfully move across the stage and Yunho didn't know it was possible to fall in love with you even more. He finds himself cheering loudly, hoping you can hear him and see him from the stage, hoping you know he's there and will always be there to support you through anything. Because he wants to, and he loves seeing you happy doing what you love doing. When the piece finally ends, the crowd is incredibly hyped and Yunho immediately shoots up to stand and clap, flowers now resting on his mom's lap for safety measures.

"She's so good! They all are! They deserve to win this!" His aunt leans over to look at him.

"I know. They do." He smiles from ear to ear.

"Look at your ears, they're so red." His mom gently tugs on his ear. "You're so in love." She teases.

"And what about it?" He pouts and whines. "I just like showing her off. She's good everything she does, and I want her to know that." Lord knows Seonghwa didn't put in any effort to make you feel valued and reassured. He's not entirely sure how long you've been feeling that way, how long you've doubted yourself— but, as long as he's around, he'll make sure you never feel that way again. How could anyone ever compare to you?

"As you should." She smiles at him.

The rest of the show goes on just as lively and entertaining as it started, with a small break before winners are announced. Yunho is bouncing his leg in anticipation, eager to hear the results from the panel. It doesn't come as a surprise though when he hears two other groups winning second and third place because he knows. He just knows.

And he's right.

When the MC announces your group name for first place, Yunho swears he almost loses his voice from cheering. He sees you and your friends with happy tears streaming down your cheeks, and even though he believed everyone had a fair chance at winning today, you all truly deserved it. He knows how late you've stayed in the studio working on choreography, scraping an entire piece just to replace it with something 'better' even if it stressed you out doing so. There was no other group that showed the same dedication and passion as you and your friends, and he really, really wanted this for you all more than anything.

He can't wait to see you and hug you.

Kiss you.

old you.

Just be with you.

When the event ends, he's following behind his mom and aunt, keeping eyes on them to make sure they don't get lost in the crowd. He runs into your family exiting through the next set of double doors on his left and waves. Amidst the crowd chaos, he manages to say hi to your family and give them hugs before introducing his mom and his aunt— excusing himself shortly afterwards so he can run to the bathroom and be back before heading outside. It's a bit of a line, but Yunho waits patiently so he doesn't have to run off while he's with you. When he's done and making his way back outside, he still has to navigate through the crowds to get to your family and his family hanging out in an open area; almost running into another person just as he's about to make it over to the spot.

"Y-Yunho?" She almost comes face to face with his chest when she abruptly turns, trying to navigate her way through the crowd.

"Hayun?"

"Hey, nice to see you here?" She questions, unsure what Yunho would be doing here. It's been awhile, but from what she remembered, he was never into these things. She does a once-over and gives him a tiny smile, slightly ogling at how good he looks after all these years. He is glowing.

"Uh, yeah." He isn't really sure what to say since last time, she acted weird about seeing him. Maybe she had no choice but to greet him; she damn near ran straight into this chest. Still. It's a bit awkward, but it's nice to see she's at least well. "What're you doing here?"

"Well, I was on break, I'm leaving late tonight. My cousin performed with one of the groups. I don't know if you remember her, Soojin?" He nods.

"I do remember her. I guess she's grown well? I clearly didn't recognize her on the stage." She chuckles before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"What're you doing here?"

"My girlfriend competed, too. Her family's here, my family. She was in the group that placed first." He looks over his shoulder before looking back down at her.

"Oh, that's sweet."

"Yeah." He clears his throat. "Anyway, I hope everything's been good with you. I hope you have a safe flight back, too."

"Thanks, and same." She nods. "I hope your mom and aunt are okay."

"They are. Thanks. Should probably get back to them." He gives off a small smile and a curt nod before turning on his heel to find his family, your family and everyone else. He sees Chaery and Seungmin come out from the side door before you and Soobin follow. He can see you searching high and low for him and it makes his heart flip.

"Yunho!" You squeal when you finally find him in the sea of people. You instantly run over, jumping into his arms while he holds onto you tightly.

"There she is." He says. "Hi baby." He says against your head. Hayun smiles to herself when she sees the moment you two share, quickly reminiscing about the times her and Yunho had in the past. But, in the end, she's happy that he's found someone and that he's genuinely happy. Yunho deserved it.

"Hi." You giggle, pulling back slightly to kiss him on the lips.

"You did amazing, love." He gently puts you down.

"Did I?! Do these look like the steps of a first place winner?" You do a silly little dance, making him laugh before pulling you for another kiss.

"Yeah, they do. Steps from the best, actually." You laugh and playfully pinch his arm.

"Goodjob, Y/N! You did great up there!" His mom and aunt say, followed by your family. You greet all of them one by one, giving them hugs and thanking them for coming— especially Yunho's mom and aunt for tagging along. It seems that your family and his were already kicking it off, your dad offering for them to join dinner along with Chaery, Soobin and Seungmin's family.

"Yes, please come to dinner with us!" You squeeze his mom's hand with a smile. She nods and pulls you in for another hug, the four of you walking alongside each other while your family, Chaery's, Soobin's and Seungmin's walked ahead. You and his mom talk a bit about your dance journey as you walk along before you get into the car with Soobin, Seungmin and Chaery; letting everyone know you'll meet them at the restaurant nearby.

You assume most of your group will end up at the same restaurant, and it ends up being true for the most part. Once the four of you unload and start heading inside, you run into Yeonjun and Jongho with their families. The restaurant ends up escorting everyone to the back area where most of the tables are available for bigger groups, and instantly gets to work on providing drinks and small appetizers for everyone to enjoy while looking at the menu. On your left is Chaery, while Yunho is on your right; the both of them cracking jokes with each other while the families order the main courses for tonight.

"Yuyu, how do you feel about graduation coming up?"

"I don't know. Good, for the most part."

"Dude, it's gonna be so different! Have you already applied to internships and jobs?"

"Yeah, I have. Got a few interviews coming up in the next few weeks."

"Good shit!" Chaery claps. "Your man is gonna be so prepared for the world." She nudges you on the side, making you giggle.

"I know, right?"

"Seriously, it's nothing. I don't wanna have a huge gap. I just wanna get into it, I guess."

"That's really good, though. Do you plan to have a party or anything?" He cocks a brow up and points at himself.

"Me?"

"Yes!"

"No, god no." Yunho laughs. "I'm very much good off of a party."

"What if we threw you one at the apartment? Or took you out to the club?!"

"No, don't do that. I promise, I'm good."

"Babe, we're gonna have to at least do dinner or something." He looks down at you with a fond smile before placing a chaste kiss to the side of your head.

"If you want."

"It's your graduation!" You laugh.

"Yeah, and quite frankly, I'd rather much just spend the night with you doing other things." He says lowly near your ear, causing the heat to rise to your cheeks while you subtly nibble on your bottom lip.

"Cute, dinner sounds nice and cozy." Chaery adds. "But since you don't plan to celebrate with a party—" She leans over to look at her parents. "Mom, dad, Yunho's graduating soon! Can we order some dessert?"

"That's a good idea. Should we order some dessert to celebrate early?" Yunho's ears turn red as he shakes his head and refuses.

"No, no! It's okay! We don't have to—"

"Yeah, let's order some dessert!" Your dad agrees, along with the rest of the table. Your dad calls over the waitress to add dessert to the order for the entire table, reassuring Yunho's mom and aunt that they didn't need to worry about dinner [or dessert] tonight.

"Thank you." He says shyly.

"So, Yunho. Have you been getting ready for graduation and everything?" Yunho nods, essentially telling your family [and everyone else] what he told Chaery and how he just wants to get right into working after graduation. Mainly, Yunho wants to do this for his mom and aunt, but also for you. Because life includes you now; all about you.

Once the food arrives, everyone takes turns and rotates the dishes amongst each other before setting it down in the middle of the table for seconds and so on. Yunho doesn't even help himself first and decides to serve you some food before tending to himself. Dinner goes on happily, with everyone in good spirits and conversing in between bites about school and upcoming summer plans. Seungmin's dad mentions camping and how he wants to coordinate something for the group this summer, knowing the perfect campsite about 3 hours away that resides right by a lake. He invites Yunho, his mom and his aunt, reassuring them that they'd enjoy it over there, too.

Yunho slightly nudges you and smiles while drinking his water, leaning closer to you just as he sets the glass back down.

"Any other plans for the summer, love?"

"Not that I know of. Maybe I'll get myself a little summer job, too.

"Mm, maybe I can help fill the rest of your schedule up? If you're okay with that?"

"If you won't be too busy working!"

"I won't be. I'll always make time for you, you know that, right?" He gives you a soft look. "Plus, while we still have the time open, I wanna plan something and take you somewhere."

"Like where?" He shrugs.

"Somewhere where we can't drive to."

"Oh, like an actual trip-trip?!"

"Yup."

"Eep, where!" You squeal and he chuckles.

"I'll figure it out. Leave it up to me, hm?"

"I'm actually so lucky, it's insane." Yunho laughs a little louder at the compliment while shaking his head, digging into the last bits of his food.

"I feel the same. But, I really just wanna spend as much time with you as I can."

"Sounds like it'll be a good summer for us." You eat up the rest of your food before setting your plate aside nicely. "Babe, are you sure you're okay to drive after? Do you want me to come, or do you want me to drive your mom and aunt back?"

"I would never in a million years let you drive alone like that."

"But, you're tired." You pout.

"Mm, all worth it though. Cause we got to see you guys win, plus I get cake." You laugh.

"I knew you wanted the cake." He playfully shushes you. "I can come along, though!"

"No. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" You whine. "Just tell me you don't want me around, jeez." He smirks.

"That's never the case. I just know you'll be tired and I want you to rest. Promise I'll be good, okay?"

"Can I wait for you at your spot, then?"

"Of course you can. Yeo's gonna be home by the time we get back."

"Perfect, I'll bother him 'till you come." He gives you another big smile just as the dessert makes its way to the table. Everyone loudly cheers for the group's win today, along with congratulating Yunho for graduation coming up. You look at him in pure admiration when he blushes and respectfully thanks everyone for the cake and greetings.

And it's that moment when you catch the sparkle in his eyes, the glow, the warmth radiating from him. It's not that Yunho didn't have all these things in the beginning; they were there, just dim. Not as bright, not as warm. Over time, he's grown and blossomed into one of the most important people in your life, someone everyone clearly adored and cherished.

That might've been the moment that changed the trajectory of everything for you two because it finally clicked that he was who you wanted— back then, now, in the future.

You love Yunho; really, really love Yunho.

Everything about him brings pure love, genuine happiness and safety. Three important factors that you longed for in a relationship, but were never familiar with until Yunho came around.

The rest of dinner goes on well, with everyone fighting to pay the bill before it eventually settles between your family and Chaery's. Everyone walks alongside of each other before parting to their own cars and preparing to make their journey back home. Before you part ways with Yunho, his mom and aunt, you give them a big, tight hug before giving Yunho a quick peck on the lips. You look him dead in the eye and make him promise that he'd be absolutely okay to drive back and forth, and that he'd stay behind if he really couldn't make it back. He gives you a smug smirk, making you pinch him on the arm before bidding your last farewell to his family. You follow suit with your own family, your dad hopping into his car while your mom and sister drove together.

The ride back home is fairly calm, with Soobin in the driver's seat. There's the occasional bickering between Seungmin and Chaery, but otherwise, everyone is busy recounting the day and discussing the different groups and their pieces. Surprisingly, you're all still energetic throughout the entire ride; not one person complaining about being tired or wanting to catch up on sleep.

It does change once you finally arrive home and set your things aside, immediately putting the flowers into a free vase with some water. Soobin plops onto the couch face down as he claims he's exhausted from all the driving, while Seungmin sits on the floor beside him. You hurry into the bathroom and take a quick shower so Chaery can follow and get comfortable. You throw on some comfortable clothes and unpack your things and clean up around your area of the room before heading over to Yunho and Yeosang's for the evening. You say your goodnight's to your roommates before walking over, your Uggs making a loud noise as you drag them across the concrete. When you arrive at the unit, the kitchen lights are on, but you can barely hear a peep through the other side of the door. You knock a few times before Yeosang is coming to the door in his tank top and sweats.

"Hey hey!"

"Oh, hey! I heard you placed first! Congrats!" Yeosang pulls you into a hug before stepping aside to let you in. "Where's your boyfriend?"

"He's dropping off his mom and aunt, then he'll come back."

"They came to the competition, too?"

"Yeah, they did!" You respond as you walk into Yunho's room, with Yeo following and leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed tightly against his chest.

"Damn, what a drive. Sorry I couldn't make it. It was my baby cousin's birthday party."

"No, it's okay! You didn't miss much anyway."

"I missed my friends placing first, so yeah." You give him a tiny smile and shake your head.

"There's still next year. You have plenty of other opportunities to come when you aren't busy!"

"You're right."

"If you really wanna make up for it though, you can keep me company while I wait for Yunho." He laughs and nods.

"Yeah, of course. What do you have in mind?" He follows you out to the living room.

"I don't know. Maybe we can just watch a random movie? He'll be back by the time it's over, hopefully."

"Gotta watch a long one. Like Lord of the Rings or something. Star Wars. Avengers: Endgame."

"Ou, I'm down for some Avengers."

"Cool." You lay on the couch with the blanket wrapped around you while Yeosang sits on the floor, navigating through the movies before he lands on the Avengers. The both of you quietly begin the movie, with Yeosang reciting very random facts about the Avengers. You respond with follow-up questions, allowing Yeosang to do a deep dive. It's not until about an hour and a half in that you feel the exhaustion hitting you; eyes and body suddenly feeling heavy.

"You get what I'm saying right?" Yeosang asks, but doesn't receive a response. "Y/N?" He calls for you, only to turn over his shoulder and see you fast asleep. He chuckles to himself before returning his attention to the TV, turning down the volume so that it isn't too loud for you.

In the next 45 minutes, Yunho quietly walks into the apartment, seeing you fast asleep on the couch while Yeosang continues to watch TV on the floor— the movie no longer on. He smirks at Yunho before turning back to check on you, a silent chuckle leaving his lips.

"She's been asleep?" Yunho whispers while crouching to your level.

"Yeah, she fell asleep a bit ago. Didn't realize until I asked her a question about the movie we were watching and I didn't get a response." Yunho quietly laughs a bit. "I didn't wanna just leave her here, though."

"I'll bring her in. Thanks for keeping her company."

"You must be exhausted with all the back and forth driving today."

"Fuck yeah, I am. But, as long as my mom's happy and she's happy." Yunho smiles at you, brushing the hair away from your face.

"Alright, well, I'm good off of this show." Yunho turns to the TV seeing it randomly stationed a cooking show.

"Okay Chef Boyardee." Yeosang snorts before gently tapping the couch and standing.

"Gotta do better before we get into the real world, am I right?" He salutes. "I'm off." Yunho bids him farewell before returning his attention to you. You haven't budged, and Yunho can tell how exhausted you are by the way your lips poke out into a pout, soft snores in between each breath.

"Baby. I'm gonna carry you to the bed, okay?" He whispers. You let out a sound that makes Yunho giggle to himself before he scoops you up into his arms and holds you tightly.

"I could've walked." You suddenly blurt out.

"Dunno cutie, you were pretty knocked out." He smiles at you. "It's okay. You had a long day."

"So did you."

"I don't care about me, I care about you." He chuckles, gently laying you down on the bed. "I need to take a shower, I'll be back." You quietly nod and turn to your side, too exhausted to fight for him to stay and be needy. He heads to the shower and lets the hot water cascade down his body, feeling the exhaustion finally catch up to him. Although he tends to think he's pretty selfless, he didn't think he'd be driving from home to catch a performance, dropping his family off then driving back to the apartment all in a day. But, he couldn't care less because he wanted to do this for you, and he wanted to see you happy. There's nothing that satisfies Yunho more than seeing you smile.

He lets out a heavy sigh when he hops out and runs the towel through his wet hair, turning on the hair dryer to dry it off completely. He gets himself ready for bed, walking out in a plain shirt and pajama bottoms to finally slip in next to you. You instantly turn and throw your arm over him the moment you feel the bed dip, Yunho chuckling to himself when he pulls you close.

"Yuyu."

"Mhm sleepyhead?"

"You're graduating soon."

"I am."

"I'm proud of you."

"Thank you. I gotta say I'm proud of me, too." You both laugh a bit.

"What's gonna happen with us?"

"Nothing." He smiles. "I'll still be here. You'll still be here. I'll find myself a good job and hope I'll be able to provide for you more."

"You already give me a lot." You softly say, eyes still closed as you lay on his chest.

"Not enough."

"Hm." You hum. "You're enough."

"I appreciate that, love. But, you really do deserve the world and I'm trying to get you that, okay? Let me." You giggle.

"You're the best."

"Baby?"

"Yes?"

"You see us being together for a long time, right?" He asks, because even though he's confident in your relationship, he still likes to be reassured. Because god, does he truly see his life with you. It hasn't been long but there is not one bone in his body that makes him think otherwise. He wants to build with you, grow with you, be with you all the time. He wants nothing but you, and he's so, so sure of it.

"Of course."

"Even living together in the future and doing all that crazy stuff grownups do?" You laugh.

"Yes."

"Okay." He kisses your forehead.

"Do you want that with me, Yunho?"

"Yeah. I do, Y/N." You sleepily smile against him and hug him tighter, not wanting to let him go.

"I like that." He leaves a soft, feathery kiss against your lips before holding you closer than he ever could, shutting his own eyes to finally get some sleep.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunhotteokkk @yungigiggles @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion @astro-doll-the-star @faesmingi @idfkeddieishot @startinystay @emily505 @mgdixon @mcsalterego @cheynalexilaiho @svintsandghosts @mismatchfluffysocks @meeitany @au-ghosttype

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delicatebarness · 10 days

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i think he knows | chapter seven

Summary: How much exactly did Bucky get from the bet?

Warnings: I'm not crying, I'm sweating from my eyes.

Word Count: 1358

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A/N: This might be my favorite chapter so far. However, enjoy, I'll be back writing on Saturday <3

The room felt too small, you felt like you were suffocating with him standing this close to you. You could sense that you hurt him, his eyes lost the small glint of hope the second you said it. His head dropped, no longer looking down at you but more at his sock-covered feet.

“I wanted to talk to you,” His voice trembled, causing your heart to sink to the pit of your stomach. You didn’t know how to feel. “About everything.”

The memories of the weekend flooded back, causing your eyes to tear up. Here he was, standing in your room, willing to talk. You had the opportunity to get your answers, but, you couldn’t bring yourself to want to hear it.

“I, I don’t,” you stuttered as you began to flush, trying to find the right words without hurting him more. “I don’t know if I’m ready to talk,” you admitted softly, barely audible.

When he lifted his head back up to look at you, you watched a tear begin to fall down his cheek. His eyes were searching for something in yours, you weren’t sure what.

“Come for a ride with me,” he gestured toward your window, you assumed the open window was how he entered into the room earlier. “Let me take you for a ride, I promise it will only be a ride. We don’t need to talk, just,” he raised his hand to your cheek, barely touching it, he quickly pulled away stopping himself from going too far. “Please, come with me.”

Looking between Bucky and the window, you fought a silent battle in your mind not knowing what to do. Your mind, that was telling you that it was a bad idea. If you go with him, you’ll be giving him more power in the situation. Your heart was telling you the opposite. It told you what you felt that night at The Overlook was real enough.

Your mom’s voice began to overpower all the warning signs in your head, “If you truly want to know the truth, go with your heart. Your head will make up reasons to not do something that is meant for you” The advice she gave you on Friday night after giving you your space.

With a sigh, you nodded agreeing to go on the ride with him. His face lit up with glee as he rushed over to put his shoes and jacket back on. You set your textbooks and backpack down in their usual spot before heading to the window. Bucky climbed down first, waiting for you at the bottom. Looking up he watched as you sat in the same spot on the ledge as he did only a few nights back. Guilt once again rushed through his veins, it disappeared as quickly as it came when he noticed your heavy breathing while you looked down at the ground.

“I’m here,” he called up to you, bringing your attention to him rather than the hard ground below. He stood watching you, his arms pulled up toward you. “I’ve got you, I promise.”

A promise he kept, with his reassurance you began to climb down and once you were within reach, he helped you the rest of the way. As you landed, you crashed into his chest. Both of your breaths hitched, and looking up at him you caught the remorse in his eyes. For the first time since that moment with him at The Overlook, your mind went quiet.

The engine hummed below you, your mind eased while you pressed against his back again. The street lights began to turn on as you rode past them, the sun disappearing below the horizon. You could have sworn he rode down every street in the town, it felt like you had been riding for hours before he stopped the bike by the lake. The silence was deafening the second he stopped the engine.

You walked side by side down to the lake, taking his jacket off he laid it over the grass, gesturing for you to take a seat on top of it. You accepted the offer with a small smile. You sat with your knee up, chin resting on top. You could feel his gaze on you as he sat beside you on the grass.

The silence lasted the entire time you watched the sun set completely. It wasn’t until it had disappeared that you found the confidence to speak.

“Who won?” Your voice broke, and your throat felt scratchy as if you hadn’t used your vocal cords in months. Turning to look at him, you noted a confused expression on his face. “The bet, who won?”

“I promise you, this,” He gestured between the two of you, suggesting you and him were the ‘this’. “This had nothing to do with a bet.” He spoke with confidence, never breaking eye contact with you.

You narrowed your eyes at him, he was giving you the truth-telling signs but you weren’t fully convinced. “Sure, getting close to the quarterback’s sister, making her let down every wall, distracting her from everything she’s worked for, taking her first kiss,” the tears began to well in your eyes again, you wondered how, how were you still able to cry. “Doesn’t sound like one of your games, at all.”

Bucky’s expression faltered as he watched the tears stream down your flushed cheeks, he reached out, his hand hovering as he debated whether to touch you or not. “I messed up, I know, I’ve got a reputation.” He pulled his hand back, running it through his hair as he let out a breath. “But this, this is different. You’re different.” His eye pleaded to you as his voice softened. He needed you to believe him.

“How can I believe you? How do I know that you’re not just,” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the sentence. You didn’t want it to be the truth, you desperately wanted to believe him.

“I wish I could make you understand that you mean more to me than you’ll ever know,” he sighed, his jaw tensed in frustration. “I knew you didn’t see me, for all these years, but I saw you.” He looked away from you, his gaze now focused on the water ahead of you. “I’m sorry, I did manipulate this, just not in the way you or Steve or anyone else would think.”

He stopped for a moment, he rubbed his face in his hand before back through his hair. He continued, cut you off as you began to speak. “I knew if Steve caught me looking at you, he’d tell you to stay away. I knew if he did that, you’d notice me and it was less of a risk to have you come to me than me come to you.”

“James, I -” He looked back at you as you tried to find the right words. They didn’t come. Instead, you reached your hand out to his cheek and pulled his face close to yours. For a few seconds, you locked your eyes with his, giving them a chance to show you a reason to not do what your heart was telling you.

He looked back at you with remorse and guilt, the kind that showed you his heart had pure intentions. They showed you just how much thinking he had hurt you, hurt him.

You allowed yourself to take a moment to get lost in them. Until his lips parted slightly as if he was about to say something. Pressing your lips against his, you silenced him.

The kiss was soft, bare. All the doubts and insecurities melted away with every passing second. You explored every inch of each other's mouths, not wasting a single opportunity. Your hand pulled his cheek, his fingers were tangled in your hair, and you both tried to pull each other closer.

When you finally pulled away, a spark of hope appeared over his smile, a genuine smile. Smirk is nowhere to be seen. You both caught your breath as your hearts pounded together.

He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “Can I call you, Sunshine?”

---

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darylbrainrot · 3 months

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CHAPTER 01: WIP

AIYGIWGWY || GOJO X READER

How would you—a part time guitarist and streamer, react when an upcoming streamer known as gojo admitted to liking your music and streams?

As he sat down on his chair with it dipping with his added weight, he reached to his PC to start it up. He was about 20 minutes early to stream so he had to get his streaming apps ready. He wanted to keep this stream chill, he was probably some background music playing to make his stream calming (as calming as possible with his screams from playing fortnite.) As he made the sudden decision to play music on his stream, he opened Spotify as soon as his computer turned on.

He opened one of his designated playlists for streaming, some relaxing music ranging from different artists. He made sure this playlist wasn't going to get him flagged on his Twitch, something he didn't want to happen again.

He finally had his necessities opened, his discord and Spotify opened on his first monitor, his Twitch ready to stream on his third monitor, and finally his main monitor with his game loading up. When he looked at the time, he had around 6 minutes to spare before starting up his stream. With his extra time, he decided to go out of his room to his shared dorm with suguru to grab some snacks.

As he made his way to the shared kitchen, he just decided to grab a Gatorade and some random candies he had stored for when he was craving them. As he was going to retreat back to his room, he heard his fellow roommate's door open.

"Suguru, you should join my stream please." He said, dragging out the please for dramatic effect.

"Hell nah, ima go to sleep anyway." The black-haired man says with a blank stare, passing Satoru as he makes a b line towards the restroom.

"What the flip man." Sighing as he made it back to his room to start up his stream.

—————————

"BROO, no fucking way he got me. He literally only got me for 50 shield." He said, falling back in his chair as his 2nd place ranking got displayed on his screen. His hands now going through his face, raking through his white hair. The soft melodies of 'Cologne' by Beabadoobee fill the stream when he is quiet. The song finished up when one of your songs replaced the quietness, it was a cover you made of 'Paul' by Big Theif.

This is when his chat started flooding with new messages, ranging from questions asking him if he liked your music to how long he's been listening to you. As his arms finally fell from his hair, he looked at his chat when he saw the flood of new texts.

"I didn't know you listened to y/n's music... of course, I listen to their music, she's like one of my favorite artists." He said after reading some questions in his chat. Snickering at his chats surprised reaction, "I'm surprised some of you guys didn't know this, I follow them on twitter and on insta and I know some of you guys stalk my following and shit" He said as he was going back to the home screen of his game, deciding that it was enough of fortnite for him after playing around 10 rounds.

“Have you seen shes working on a new song? She posted about it on her twitter” he mumbled, reading one of the texts that caught his eye. “Yeah I saw her post, hopefully she posts a clip of her song. I know it’s gonna be good though.” He grins, exited that one of his favorite artist might release a song soon.

"Anyways, ima stopping the stream here, I'm done with fortnite for today. I might stream again in the weekend though, I'll tweet about it if I do." Waving at his face cam as he ended the stream, making sure to double-check it was off. He closed off any extra tabs he had open before shutting down his PC. Once he was finally done with his computer, he stood up and went to scroll on his phone on his bed, finally relieving the ache in his back due to his bad posture.

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Interact with this post to be a part of my taglist.

this isnt proof read so lmk if theres any mistakes D:

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TAGLIST: OPEN

@bakananya, @lysaray, @reagan707, @cccccccccccleo, @samutoru, @sunaluvrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, @sur-i-ki, @rybunnie, @ramchu,

#gojosatoru #gojo #satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smau #jjk x reader #jjk smau #jujutsu kaisen #smau #jujutsu kaisen smau #jjk text #jjk tweets #jujutsu kaisen posts #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk ff #jujutsu kaisen ff

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cinellieroll · 2 months

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☆ random obey me headcanons part 2!

asmodeus, levi and barbatos ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor, solomon)

part four (satan and diavolo)

cw: some small nsfw on asmo's part :p

small note: thank you so much for the likes and reblogs! i never expected such a large majority of people to enjoy my content so it's very dear to me. once again, thank you!

☆ asmodeus:

- kinda bad at cooking. his way of slicing and dicing vegetables is very mediocre if not clumsy looking. there are days where his cooking is acceptable and days where it's to seasoned or too bland (always convinces himself its good tho and posts it on his devilgram)

- though he's kinda bad at cooking, his baking skills are okay! his favorite pastry to make are cookies because he can design them the most.

- "ofcourse mc! you'll always be the first one to try my desserts! unless you want to taste something else?~ ♡"

- he has a collection of sanrios, hironos and sonny angels in his room. ESPECIALLY sonny angels. crazy thing is he always gets them for free from his fans and its always the limited edition ones

- he really enjoys watching old movies from the human world especially the romcoms. mean girls, notting hill, pitch perfect. he will pester you to rewatch it with him even though you guys have seen it multiple times already.

- he keeps a small jewelry box in his room but instead of jewelry its full of pics of you and him and the gifts you give him. theres some pics in there where the other brothers were cut or crossed out so it'll be just you and him lmfao

- he is a yandere and i stand by this. it's not as obvious but if he's really into you he'll constantly mark you with his scent and the stuff he wears. he'll leave a hickey or a bite mark if you're lucky ;)

- the type of guy to only bring a purse to school. if you ask for a pencil the bitch is gonna open his bag and say "oopsie! i only brought my makeup pouch and mirror today. sorry babe!"

- has his own private concert in showers every goddamn day

- he'll either fangirl with you about celebrities or he'll get extremely jealous because you're simping for someone else.

☆ levi:

- sometimes his ass crack will be on display when he's sitting down on the floor

- wears booty shorts religiously. sometimes he'll casually just walk out his room wearing a hoodie and booty shorts with prints on it

- has a tumblr account where he posts a bunch of hc, drabbles and other shit and until now no one knows its him

- had an amino and discord phase where he always roleplayed with other people. till this day it haunts him at night

- he livestreams twice a week on twitch and has been scolded by lucifer on stream once. there was also a time where mammon barged in his room half naked and suddenly all the views went up 10x

- trolls on roblox like it's a 9 to 5 job

- every once in a while he'll stay in lucifers room while lucifer is doing paperwork. he'll just lay down on his bed, watch and play games and even fall asleep

- makes his own persona in every fandom he gets into and writes very detailed backstories (dw levi, same)

- only reads "x reader" fics for obvious reasons

- went insane because human world games and animes are better than the ones in devildom. dont get me started about aot. (his favorite is levi ackerman obvi)

☆ barbatos:

- wishes he could get piercings but since he's the demon prince's butler he obviously can't

- started tweakin when you said some humans keep rats and bugs as pets. like he stopped polishing some plates and looked at you like you just dog shitted diavolo's name

- really enjoys your spotify playlist filled with metalhead and grunge songs. he really likes slipknot

- likes to order those cute, fancy tea sets when he has the time. when you gifted him tea leaves and a limited edition teapot set his love for you sky rocketed.

- gets annoyed when solomon manspreads

- has a really good voice when he sings. he used to sing diavolo lullabies when his father would get angry at him

- scrolls through levi and mammon's post for educational purposes cuz he wants to learn slangs just incase diavolo asks him what a specific word means

- "barbatos, what does 'runnin from da opps' mean?"

- "my lord, 'runnin from da opps' is a slang made by the new generation. it means fleeing from your haters."

- loves to tailor and iron his bed sheets so he can have a peaceful rest after a long day of non stop errands.

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sunny44 · 6 months

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All these years (Part 9)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Ex girlfriend Reader

Warnings: none

Summary: Separated by a disagreement, Charles and Y/n meet again after years apart and all the feelings they had repressed come flooding back.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Ten months after the last chapter

This was the first night I managed to sleep properly.

Today, our baby turns 1 month old.

Matilda Leclerc was as smiley as Charles, and the dimples were identical.

I carried her for 9 months, felt every pain for her to be born, just like him.

And speaking of Charles, I could hear his baby voice speaking softly to her as I lay in bed with my eyes closed.

"Do you know you're daddy's love? And that I'll take care of you forever?" she made some noises with her mouth. "Your mom is jealous that you look like me, but I honestly love that. I love you, you know, love your little eyes, chubby feet, and your baby smell. I love you even when you're all messy."

"Good to know." I say, looking at him. "You'll be in charge of the messy diapers now."

"I can do that." we hear a little fart, and he laughs.

"I think you'll have to start now."

"Well then." he gets up and leaves the room, and I brush my teeth and decide to go to her room. "Babe, come here."

"Problems?"

"I don't know if I'm doing it right." I see that the diaper is all crooked, making me laugh. "Don't laugh at me."

"Sorry, love. But you're doing a great job. Don't worry."

"Guide me."

"Okay, she's already clean, and the diaper is already positioned on her bum, so now you grab the front flap and pull it up." he does. "Now, open the tabs and fasten them in the front."

He does it slowly and fastens the last tab, then strokes her little tummy, and she giggles, making Charles's eyes fill with tears.

"Did you see that she laughed at me?"

"I saw, love." I hugged him from the side.

He finished putting on the onesie that said "I'm daddy's baby," which Charles had bought the day after we found out I was pregnant.

"Okay, I'll finish packing their bags so we can go to Arthur's."

Arthur and Megan are living in Milan for a few months to help us with the baby and we were going to visit them. It would be the first time everyone would meet her. Our parents followed the pregnancy, but during the delivery, there was a snowstorm here, so they couldn't catch the flights to come. And since today is her first month, we're all going to meet to celebrate.

In the first month, we didn't go out much with her. I think the fear that something might happen was greater, and I think all first-time parents have that fear.

"I'll take a shower, and then we can go."

I took a shower, did a quick makeup, and put on warm clothes since it was winter in Monaco.

"Look at this." he appears excited with Matilda dressed in a mini Ferrari uniform. "Look at how my baby is."

"She looks just like you on race weekends." he laughs. "Can we go?"

"We can." he hands her to me and takes the bags.

I locked the apartment door, and we went to the car, and obviously, Charles went straight to the Ferrari, a track that I started to hate since we had it.

"Let's not go in this death machine." he looks at me offended.

"My baby is not a death machine."

"Your baby is here on my lap, and I'm not going to put her in that car, which besides not having a back seat, is not safe."

"Okay." he gives up, and we go to my Range Rover."

My car and his two cars have a car seat for her since it was good for emergencies, and in fact, I haven't bought any since my parents, his parents, and Arthur and Carla gave them.

Matilda was the most spoiled child in the world, I think.

"Well strapped." he kisses her forehead and sits in the driver's seat. "Let's go."

The journey was composed of Matilda's cries and children's songs on the playlist that Charles had made for her on his Spotify account.

We arrived at Arthur's apartment and took all the luggage and went to the door. Charles had put her securely in the baby carrier on his chest so we could carry everything. She had fallen asleep and was covered with a blanket, her little face leaning against his chest.

When I tried to put her to sleep, it only worked when Charles wasn't home, but when he was, she only slept in his arms.

"We're here, family." he says somewhat loudly, and everyone comes running. "We know this rush is not for us."

"Yeah." I laughed, and we greeted everyone who went straight to Charles and Matilda.

"She's so beautiful." says stroking her thin hair. "She looks just like Charles."

"Don't say that near Y/n, or she'll ask for a divorce." I rolled my eyes, and they laughed.

Speaking of which, we got married. A few months after I found out I was pregnant.

We decided we didn't want a very big party, so we got married at the courthouse and had a little party for the family later, where we announced that we would be parents.

"She's a copy of Charles, literally." they look at me. "From the noises when they're sleeping to the stubbornness."

"I'm not stubborn, you liar."

"Yes, you are."

Soon, she started crying, and Charles took her out of the carrier and handed her to me. She hadn't breastfed before leaving home, so she woke up because of that.

"Someone is hungry." my mom says, and I sat on the couch.

The boys went to the kitchen to get something to drink, and I started breastfeeding Matilda while the girls sat around.

"How's it been? I mean, being a mother."

"It's great, to be honest. It's tiring at first, especially since none of us had experience with this, but we're doing well. She's very calm."

"That's great. Charles was the calmest of the three."

"Y/n was calm too and hardly caused any trouble."

"The only trouble she gives is when it's time to sleep. When Charles is away, she even sleeps with me, but as soon as she senses when he gets home, she wakes up. And when we're together, she only sleeps in his arms." they look, dying of love. "She'll finish here, and even though she's sleepy, Charles will have to take her."

"She's very attached to him, apparently."

"Yes, a clingy one." Matilda finishes, and I hand her over to Pescale, who said she wanted to fix her.

This was another funny topic. She always vomited on Charles, who surprisingly started laughing, and Matilda giggled along with him.

"Is she done already?"

"She's with your mom." I point, and Charles goes to his mom and takes her.

"Charles." she scolds him when he takes her.

"She's my baby, not yours." he says and leaves, making me laugh.

"Is he always like this?"

"Yes, even with me, but then I say that I carried and gave birth, and then he pouts and hands her over to me." they laugh. "He's very attached to her and doesn't leave her side. She grumbles to cry, and he runs to wherever she is."

"He's adorable."

We talked a little more, and I decided to go to the guest room, where I saw Charles passing with her a few minutes ago. I stopped at the door and watched them.

Charles swayed her slowly and murmured something. I approached him, and he smiled, then gently put her in the middle of several pillows, gave her a little kiss on the head, and hugged me from behind as we watched her sleep.

"I love you. And thank you for giving me her." he whispers in my ear, and I smile, snuggling more into his embrace.

"And thank you for not giving up on me."

He kissed my forehead, and we stayed there, watching our baby sleep.

Bonus scene!

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Liked by @charlesleclerc, @leclercpescale, @scuderiaferrari and others 84479

@yourusername this past year has been the best of my life.

I’ve married the love of my life, gave birth to our beautiful baby girl and I feel like I’ve never been happier.

Thank you @carlesleclerc for being the best hubby for me and the best daddy for our daughter.

@charlesleclerc I’m the lucky one to have you in my life and thank you for giving me our baby girl

@yourusername we love you 😘

@lorenzotl baby M is so cute

@fan753 her names starts with an M guys 🥲

@yourusername we love you uncle L

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iuwon · 2 years

Text

X ▸ yang jungwon (part i)

▸ DESCRIPTION : what do you get when you have a stupid asshole of a bestfriend (who’s completely head over heels for you, should he add) and a fucked up ego that refuses to admit any form of defeat? you guessed it: the summoning of a jealous ex-boyfriend who dumped you two years ago, and is hell-bent on winning you back.

▸ PAIRING : ex!yang jungwon x female reader (feat. nishimura riki)

▸ GENRE(S) : angst, fluff, slow burn, exes au, college au

▸ WORD COUNT : 28.5k+

▸ WARNING(S) : this is very fast-paced for a slow burn, VERY cringe-y angst and writing (pls spare me it’s my first time😭), fake-dating with riki, JUNGWON REDEMPTION ARC ON PART 2, breakup scenes, indication of hang-ups and love triangles, jealousy, profanities, mentions of a car accident, blood, flashbacks from before and after the breakup, both reader and jungwon have issues :D, this has a second part because the fic is too long, not proofread, kindly let me know if there are any more ^-^

▸ SPOTIFY PLAYLIST : here

▸ UPDATED A/N : hello!! i finished this fic on the start of 2022 and then left it like that when i went on my hiatus, so rereading it nearing the end of 2022 .. i CANNOT take this seriously LMFAOO i was high and i dramatized everything im sawry. But. this is the longest fic i’ve written so far and for that i’m sort of :D i have little to almost zero experience of writing long fics AND angst, so i really hope to any who read this won’t have any high expectations T^T pls lmk your thoughts on this one!

▸ REQUESTED! for my scorpio twin anon :)

SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST LIKE KITES.

Someone had said that once, you remember. They’re the type of people that don’t have their two feet planted anywhere near the ground. They fly, and they keep flying. They have their mind fixated on solely reaching higher and higher up the sky just to blissfully enjoy the breeze.

They continue to fly up once the string is held securely in someone’s hand. The thought never crosses their mind that the person holding the string might ever grow tired, or that the person would only continue to hold on because it’s hard to release the string - because it’s hard to let go.

Sometimes, the kite flies away. Either the wind current was too strong, or maybe it slipped out of your grasp. In the end, the one holding the kite is always the one to blame for carelessly losing them - it’s the person who mourns of the lost kite and suffers the consequences.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

You were the type that always focused on studies.

A homebody was what you were. To you, school was meant for school. The topic of boys never interested you, and Yang Jungwon wasn’t anywhere never of an exemption.

Yang Jungwon, the notorious musical genius – the charming boy-wonder who lived in his own 4D world. People could say countless of sweet things to describe him, but you would forever see him as a person who was incapable of holding an interest for anyone for longer than his short attention span could hold – much more a romantic one.

You hissed in frustration, “Yang Jungwon, I swear to God, if you will not leave me alone -” your tone doesn’t faze him at all, as expected. He was immune to all your threats and remarks long before. A wide cheeky grin splits open his features before his hand reaches over and snatches your chemistry textbook at the mid-sentence of your threat, peeking over at it, “Chemical bonding?” he reads aloud, titling his head.

And he irritates you further. Your mid-term finals were next week, and you were barely getting any of the subjects done at this rate. You were close to college, and you did not want to have anything, or anyone mess it up.

You glare at him, “I’ve been at the same topic for the past half hour because of you,” trying to reach over your stolen textbook from the boy who never just seemed to leave you alone, his lips tug downwards in a musing pout. He stares at you before his eyes light up in thought.

Without another word, he leaves his chair beside you, not before passing you your book. You immediately grip onto your textbook with relief, skeptical that he’d grab it back away from you again.

Moments pass and you have the time all to yourself to study, but it’s too quiet for you - despite being at a bustling café. You turn your head to both your sides, eyes subconsciously searching for him. You blink, where did he go? Did you manage to kick him out once and for all -?

A whisper from your left ear interrupts your thoughts, and you feel a warm figure lightly pressing against you from behind, “try to sing out the formulas, they’re easier to remember.”

You almost yelp in surprise, jumping away from him. Where the hell did he come from? “Yah, are you crazy -?” you began, but he starts to lightheartedly poke fun. “C’mon, do it. It’ll be easier to remember,” he encourages you, pulling out a guitar from behind. You didn’t even bother to question where he had the time to get his guitar. All you were thinking about were ways to make him leave.

You shot him a look, annoyed. “Do what?”

He was always so childish. So bothersome.

He randomly strums out his guitar strings before picking up a tune, “Sing the formulas out,” his eyes momentarily directed you to the textbook laid out on the table, “I’ll help you with the melody. Go on,” you were ready to throw a harsh retort at him, telling him off to how he was wasting your time and how his idea was stupid - but his eyes; his perfectly shaped eyes looking ever so purely earnest your way.

You hated it.

You weren’t a musical genius or any of that sort, that was all Jungwon. You couldn’t just whip out the best melodic high note nor could you memorize a thousand slide powerpoint discussion even with the help of music. He didn’t have to worry about his grades - hence, his carefree attitude - and he didn’t have to stress over finals week when his career in music was already made out for him. All he ever did around school was tag along and annoy you, try the most obnoxious attempts to ask you out, play his guitar, and listen to music in the earphones he never took off.

You hesitantly look away, if you went along with him - maybe he’d go away once he got what he wanted to do. Little did you know how helpful the technique Jungwon suggested came out - or how fun it actually tuned out to be despite how awful your voice was, he was still looking at you like you were the singing like the angels.

Barely another hour later, you remarkably managed to get it all by heart and cover the topics that couldn’t have been covered in at least three days - with the help of the one person who has been disturbing you from studying in the first place. You could only gawk dumbly at his guitar.

Jungwon could sense your astonishment from miles away, and that made him all the more complacent with the huge beam he was wearing on his face. He wasn’t going to merely let this go. That trademark boyish look of his is back. “For my payment of very helpful service,” he starts as if you had ever asked him in the first place as he pretends to think, humming, “I’ll accept it in forms of you allowing me to take you out,” he suggests gleefully, his eyes sparkling in mischief.

You would normally scoff at his attempt yet again, telling him off - but this time. You couldn’t keep count of the endless tries he’s pulled this trick. This time you helplessly shake your head with a roll of your eyes. You couldn’t keep count of anything anymore, nor were you going to start now.

Yang Jungwon wasn’t going to give up on you.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

TWO YEARS LATER [ JUNGWON’S POV ]

Through the extent of his memory, you never failed to take care of Yang Jungwon.

Not once. No matter how hard you would push him aside and passively act like you didn’t care much about him, you would be there for him; you would always be there. By his side.

And then you were gone.

Jungwon was two years older now.

Checking the items in his shopping bag to see if everything was complete, he leaves the grocery store, rummaging through his purchased items when his body swiftly crashes onto something. He takes a few steps to regain his stance as he stumbles backward.

“Oh, sorry,” someone says, and it takes a moment or two before he snapped out of his daze. He turns instinctively to the direction of the voice as he tries to readjust his grip on his pile of bags.

That voice. He knows that voice.

But for a moment, his breathing halts, body stiffening instantly at the sight of someone he’d never expected to see. Never. Never again. Because this time, it’s you.

You.

You blink, showing mild surprise. And indifference. As if you were looking straight at a stranger. Your eyes pointedly averts itself away from him while you keep the proper formalities and try to start a conversation with your composure, “Uh, hello. How are you?”

To say that he’s caught off guard is too much of an understatement.

You looked different.

You looked good.

No.

You looked beautiful.

Is he dead? No, wait. What? Air gets knocked out of his lungs and he feels like he’s been punched in the gut at the same time.

You looked more beautiful than the image that he had of you for the past years, and it breaks him.

Like nothing has ever pulled you down – as if leaving you only did you good – as if it never happened or affected you by the least.

How could you look so well?

To say that Jungwon looked like a mess was an understatement.

He bit his tongue, cursing for choosing the greatest timing. He tugged at the hem of his shirt, subtly trying to adjust it. What should he do . . . now? How should he start?

How were you? Why didn’t you look for him? Were you doing fine? Did you find someone else? Have you moved on? Should he move on? Did you -

In the short silence, you seemed to be relieved to receive a text message, the ding that gives you an excuse to look away and check your phone. You make a face, feeling suddenly alarmed. Expression rushed, you formally bid him goodbye, and it fucking hurts him even more. “Nice seeing you. I should be on my way now. Have a nice day.”

A strangers’ nice pleasantry. With no sincerity.

But you walk away, leaving him – not bothering to ask him for another meet-up. Jungwon is left standing in the middle of the street, dumbfounded.

Like it ended here.

Is this it?

He wasn’t even able to get to say anything.

This was worse than being nothing to each other.

It was worse than being treated like someone you hated.

He tries to inhale.

Jungwon has no idea, honestly. Not anymore.

One day, he had told himself for years.

One day, he would broadly smile at you. He’d stand proudly confident, and you’d know that he’s gotten over you for good. He’d win and see that he’s no longer suffering. You would see. You would. He’d get over you.

But bumping into you for the first time in years had Jungwon rethinking if he’s ever gotten over your eyes in the first place.

PRESENT

You can sulk for a little, throw a tantrum - but a kite is a kite. There’s no chance of it coming back; once you let go, it doesn’t look back at you to pause and run back to your hold. There was only one thing you could do from thereon: you could always forget about it, toss it aside like a child does, and replace it with a new one; making sure it’s a much better kind.

That. That was something you reminded yourself time and time again for the past two years. Though the line was taken from a measly television show that you’ve watched long ago, it’s been the only line of string that kept you from looking back - like a mother telling her child to stop crying over a lost kite.

But, right then and there, it was like time itself pauses for you when you stand in the same café four years ago, hearing the all-familiar voice that you could never forget. There, when you feel your heart beating out of your control and dropping dead. There, where you’re not sure of the extent of what you could restrain yourself from doing.

You don’t know how you’re suddenly transported to the direction of the soft voice - it’s familiarity greeting you, and for a brief second, the memories you’ve burned long ago painfully flash back to mind - you almost flinch.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ train wreck by james arthur ]

“I don’t wanna lose this, but I’m not getting through this. Hey, should I pray? Should I pray? Yeah,” Yang Jungwon.

It’s him.

Him, with his stupidly beautiful voice and his damn entrancing presence dragging you back harder than you remembered, and the pain he’s trying to immerse himself in as he ignores his physical surroundings.

And you.

You, as you’re trying to fight away the haunting flash of memories that are slowly starting to accompany you, and you, as you could do nothing but fleetingly watch him.

This was the second time you’ve bumped into him. You snorted, why was he always everywhere you went?

And it was like after the years of methodically stitching yourself back together, you’re transported back to the same person you were two years ago.

A fool.

“To myself? To a God? To a savior who can …”

You admit, there were days where you forgot his face - or in other words, days where you refused to acknowledge how he used to look at you. Days where it was too painful to even think about.

You swear to yourself that those days are long over.

Standing across the end of the room after three years of absolutely nothing from him felt suffocating, as if there was no air to breathe. You didn’t realize you were holding in a short breath, and when you exhaled - you felt pinning, and needles, and knives stabbed deep into your lungs.

“Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words. Find hope in the hopeless - pull me out of the train wreck,”

When Jungwon’s eyes slowly open, the first thing he sees is you.

Both your eyes meet, and he freezes. All too slowly. Everything in motion. You notice how his eyes widen, and how the old memories flash in his eyes all the same.

PainMiseryHurtDisbeliefHope-

The regret.

All this happens in front of you. A dream. A nightmare. All at once. Your face remains passive and unaffected, hard - nonchalant with ease, refusing to feel bothered. Time seems slow, but you don’t hesitate to casually walk away, being the first to break eye-contact. You didn’t want to spend another second in that room.

Your grip on the drink in hand tightens in its own accord.

You’ve moved on.

But what was this sort of feeling enveloping you in?

A teasing wolf-whistle startles you on your way out of the café, ripping you out of the lethargic trance you were warped into. “Was that an ex I saw over there?” You find Nishimura Riki with his shit-eating face and his waggling of eyebrows up beside you. Grimacing at his face, you harshly nudge your elbow to his sides in annoyance.

Breathing is a little bit easier with him around.

But you still feel like vomiting. “Is shutting up not part of how your brain is wired?” you roll your eyes, showing no effort at all to hide your agitation. He lets out an amused laugh, his playful gaze only duplicating itself as he proceeds to brutally tease you.

Riki isn’t an asshole. Not really. He’s what you’d call your best friend … without much other choice. Though he can perfectly embody one, he knows his limits (though you may sometimes find yourself doubting it) and the extents to where he can joke around. He can be all sorts annoying and a douche whenever food is on the line, but he’s the only one who’s stuck with you since day one of what happened two years ago - and never bothered to pressure you into questions that tormented you even further.

You lost contact with the friends you had once shared along with Jungwon. It felt embarrassing and uncomfortable to hang around them with everyone aware of what happened, until it was long months later that it just didn’t seem right to suddenly start hanging around them again after your efforts vigorously avoiding them.

You’ve lost a lot.

And you just met the man behind it all.

Nishimura Riki was sort of all you had, and he knew that too. He figured everything that happened eventually through time, by himself. Picking up the little things wasn’t too difficult to do, neither was piecing everything together with a little help and slow nudge from you over the years.

“He’s moving in this building, you know,” he looks over to your side.

Your stomach lurches, freezing in place. Your jaw nearly drops to the floor, gaping at him like your eyes would bulge out any second.

Over your fucking dead body.

That building was precisely the building you lived in. “What?” you nearly yell, causing passersby walking along the sidewalks to throw the both of you looks.

He rolls his eyes, “Geez, princess, clam down. I was kidding,” he bumps his shoulder next to yours, as if he was trying to shake you up. He starts going over about how you were showing ‘hang-ups’ symptoms before you start barking a mouthful of threatening-nothings to have him shut his mouth, running after him.

Something rings different, however.

Yang Jungwon.

The name lingers in the back of your head, no matter how hard you try to push it away. It’s been three years, but when the kite you’ve lost years ago - the kite you swore you’ve already forgotten about - comes back, what then?

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

You weren’t necessarily the warmest type of person.

Blank faces, blunt responses, and sharp glares were all people received from you. You got others avoiding you in return, it was a give and take situation that benefited perfectly on both sides – perhaps more on your side. It worked as a repellent to kept everyone off your radar. And you liked that. You enjoyed being left alone. You found peace in your own solitude, away from other people. You were never exactly fond of people, either way.

Yang Jungwon was certainly a different breed.

Maybe it was the challenge that he liked, at first. You; the unwavering and ‘unbeatable’ challenge that provoked him – enticed him. That kept him coming. You were a brick wall, and he was someone who had the world at the palm of his hand.

But you don’t know how his intentions changed along the way.

You don’t know what made him change his mind – or what part of you that he saw that made him choose to do so, but it wasn’t of any use to figure out how.

Because he wanted you, now.

And he would ever-so-bluntly admit that.

All your efforts of shrugging him off made him fight harder for you. It was useless. The more you would curse at him with the harshest words just made him want to tag along by your side even more with that boyish grin never leaving his face.

He was a weird one.

“You know, you’re not as mean as how the people label you as.”

“And you’re more annoying than they claim you to be,” you don’t crack an amused smile. Jungwon wonders if he’s ever seen you smile – or even wear anything else of an expression that didn’t look bored, annoyed, angry, or enraged. He takes a moment to visualize how beautiful you would look when you smile and decides that he’ll do anything to see that happen. Just like that.

“You keep tossing me away,” he defended himself, the corner of his lips tugging downwards in the smallest pout.

“You keep coming back,” you retorted back, eyes shooting daggers.

By the look of his face, you realize your response wasn’t the best. “I’ll keep coming back to you,” he finishes. A lopsided grin. His brain was wired differently.

You didn’t hold back your prolonged suffering exhale.

It was a careless remark.

Such a recklessly made promise.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

[ JUNGWON’S POV ]

No one loves you like Yang Jungwon.

Whenever you’re blabbering about something with the biggest smile on your face, every time at that exact moment Jungwon knows that no one can ever be as fucking in love you like a dumb plain sheet of white paper like he can. Nor can they get to know you - or the 2 am you. They wouldn’t get to know how beautiful you look with the one side-lamp illuminating a side of your face - and the little things that come along with it, it’s only him.

It’s only him.

But when he stares into your eyes, he knows it all too. No one is as bad for you as Jungwon is either, he believes, and it fucking destroys him as he holds onto you tighter, his hands slightly trembling. He can’t lose you, he doesn’t want to, and he doesn’t know the person he’ll become if he ever does. He doesn’t know if he’ll even make a day after it.

Why didn’t he think that there would ever be an end to a sweet dream?

Yang Jungwon is your first, but someone else is going to be your last.

Someone else that wasn’t him.

He muffles the sound of the soft cries that escape him as you peacefully sleep next to him in his tight hold, unaware of what’s to come.

He’s everything that he promised you he would never be.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

THE NEXT WEEK

Riki must’ve placed some sort of curse on you for this to happen.

You could vividly imagine his shit-eating face with his loud laughter already.

Whatever witchcraft or shitty attempt of ‘fate’ this was, Nishimura Riki was going to be the cause of your death. Though this has barely anything to do with him, you can’t think of anyone else that brings that much bad luck to you. You’re seriously starting to think the world is unreservedly just fucking with you for entertainment.

Just when you thought you were never going to see him again.

Yang Jungwon stands at the front of the classroom, leaning on one foot with a backpack slung over his one shoulder. You almost facepalm, this was some Egyptian curse that was going to follow and haunt you, wasn’t it? Perhaps the ghost haunting you was in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

Of course, the new student had to just be him.

You never thought you would ever see him again. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice you and sits the farthest from your area. You keep your head focused on the individual work assigned to the class. If this whole thing could keep up, you could probably spend the next semester without him knowing you’re in the same class, then, you could hopefully change classes by the next - it wouldn’t be so bad. You didn’t have to acknowledge him.

That is, until the Professor starts assigning him roles and tasks. “There are the modules for you to read, and then around four individual minor projects to keep up with. The fifth individual project, however, majorly affects your grade,” he pauses, lightly smacking his lips as he scans his student list.

He flips through papers as he continues, “since you’ve missed most of the term, I’ll be pairing you up with Lim Seoyeon,” he drags the last word, scurrying through his papers to find another name, “and Y/L/N Y/N. Both are only lacking their thesis papers, while the others are still lacking to submit three projects, so it would be most convenient for her compared to the rest.”

Your stomach churns, feeling sick. Physically cringing, you felt like creating an uproar. Wherever Yang Jungwon goes, trouble always follows; this simply could not be happening to you. Lord, it was the least convenient to you.

This world couldn’t hate you this much.

You wanted to curse any of the gods above you placed you in this shithole, being beyond frustrated and unwilling. Anyone but him. You could only mournfully regret passing all your projects in advance, it was ironic. You get yourself into fucked up situations for being a good student? What is this university?

The Professor doesn’t clarify anything with you - nor does he justify the situation and the injustice, but only throws a nod in acknowledgement in your direction before he waves at Jungwon in dismissal - excusing himself from the classroom.

Your eyes could almost bulge out.

What was happening . . . ?

Jungwon’s eyes sweep over the room before he finds you, but you note how he doesn’t look the least surprised to see you. He stares, trying to discern your expression, but you once again break eye contact within a second.

You were in hell.

You had no option to stalk up to the teacher’s desk to bargain when the professor wasn’t there in the first place. You were fucking stuck with him. You felt the burning flames when he got up to make his way to you, and as he stood right in front of you. Choking to death because of a meatball in live television seemed like a much peaceful idea that kept most of your remaining dignity.

Maybe if you kept your head buried with studies, he would go away.

“Y/N,” a voice acknowledges you.

Fuck, you could remember that voice anywhere.

“It’s nice to see you.” Yang Jungwon.

You made a noise in response.

The feeling was not reciprocated.

You hate the way he sounds.

Like he wasn’t the same person three years ago.

You forcefully nod curtly at him, and you’re drowning.

Suddenly, we are strangers again. An unwanted stranger. There was no other option rather than tolerating him until it was all fine. You could do this. You didn’t want to, but you had to, otherwise you’d be at the polar end of the classroom by now if you had the choice.

But you chose to ignore him: Ignore the fact that he sat right next to you in close proximity, ignore the fact that you could smell his cologne - the familiarity of it and how it smelled like home, and ignored him like he never existed when he tried asking questions. In your defense, either they were a waste of time to answer, or they could easily be found in the textbook.

“Hi, I was wondering if –” Ignore it.

“Do you know where the questions for –?” Ignore it.

“Don’t you think this project is pretty difficult –?” Ignore it.

And you turned a blind eye to the fact that you disregarded him because you didn’t know if you could control yourself.

Seoyeon was a lifesaver, managing to keep you sane as she voluntarily chose to step in to help Jungwon out after hearing all his questions directed to you left unanswered. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you were forced alone with him. She reads the room but doesn’t question anything.

You tell yourself it was anger that made yourself this way.

Blind consuming anger.

You hate how Jungwon could still manage read you after all this time.

A quiet and gentle question, “Y/N, are you mad at me?”

You barely react, but your eyes squint on their own. You weren’t going to lie nor deny it, you do really wish he hadn’t chosen to interact with you. Staring blankly at your laptop screen, you don’t move. A hushed voice - a subconscious that you swore you lost long ago - in the back of your head whispers an answer before you force yourself to shove it down. You almost scoffed; are you mad at him? What kind of a dumb question is that?

He was nothing but an ass, he hadn’t changed.

“No, why would I be?” You answer brusquely, your tone signifying that you were keeping a distance from him without having to say it.

You hope the cue was taken.

There was no need to keep the friendliness with him – you weren’t obligated to. Formalities were all there was left. At least you would treat him with the respect that you were scraping your skin out for, right? Whatever you had with him - it was over. It was long gone.

You refused to be controlled under the palm of his hand ever again.

You swiftly pack your belongings and left him without a work or glance to spare his way the second you hear the bell signal the end of the period right on time. You don’t even bid your classmate, Seoyeon, goodbye. You’d apologize to her later and explain things to her, hoping she’d understand and lend a helping hand.

It’s been two years and the minute he shows up, you find yourself crumbling and unable to control yourself, and that frustrates you. You’re slipping.

Being around him was a waste of energy.

You remind yourself that you feel nothing.

He was a stranger to you now.

Once again, you walked away from him, gripping the strap of your backpack tightly in sheer annoyance and vexation. Mind racing, you try to find a reason; why was Yang Jungwon in your major and university and what in the heavens above does he want from you?

LATER

Riki roars in laughter, his hand slapping his knee as he nearly falls off the chair. You were almost tempted to push him off.

“You think it can’t get any funnier than that, but it does!” he pretends to wipe away a fake tear, “you ignored him all the way through!” he bursts into fits laughter once again.

“Poor guy, getting the silent treatment from someone like Y/N on your first day at college is depressing,” he empathizes, though it doesn’t sound by any means sincere. Nothing about Nishimura Riki is sincere. “At least I’m not the only one Y/N treats like shit!” he notes positively with a beam on his face, but you’re not sure if that’s anything that’s supposed to be of positive news.

You whack the back of his head, and he whines. “When have I ever treated you like shit, you dumbass?”

“I’m taking this as a form of harassment,” he grumbles.

You stick your tongue out at him mischievously, “Oh, boo-hoo, you big baby, ‘s not like you don’t bully the hell out of me,” you roll your eyes, “and help out and do something about Jungwon, will you?” you ask him for a favor, your tone indicating exhaustion.

He furrows his eyebrows at you, “What’d you want me to do - bury his body? Doll, I barely even know the guy.”

You swing your arms - shooing something nonexistent away for gesturing, “Just keep him away! I don’t know, do one of those stupid ideas that you always come up with. I can’t stand seeing his face,” you complain, almost childishly stomping your feet in outrage. This was unlike you.

He lowly whistles, “I was really hoping for some real kind of exes-to-lovers type of k-drama lead coming to life,” he comments, and you muster the biggest disgusted glare at him. He only shrugs his shoulders with a mere ‘hey-what-can-you-do?’.

“However, there’s a …” he trails off, lighting up like a lightbulb with an idea in mind already.

You raise a brow, “A what?”

He looks at you with a grin, suggestively wiggling his eyebrows, “We can fake-date.”

You were dumb to ask him for ideas. You groan. “Not again.”

“C’mon,” he probes you, tugging at your arm. Was he really that bored with his life to want to fake-date you?

You blankly stare at him, deadpanned. “You get dumber and dumber the more I talk to you,” you don’t hold back from telling him, receiving a dirty scowl thrown at you, “I’m serious! Isn’t that what people do whenever one of their exes show up?”

Squinting at him, you ask, “Just how many fanfics have you been reading?”

He crosses his arms, “Make fun of me all you want, but we both know that those ideas never fail,” he huffs, “you wanted him gone, didn’t you?” he tries to resonate, “Everyone thinks we’re already a thing anyway, it won’t be too hard, or would it be much of a trouble if we just went on with it. We’re basically pros at this dating thing, aren’t we?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “Yes, and getting back at him would feel rightfully good as hell and all but,” you sigh in exasperation, hating to be the one to ruin the fun, “doing that would mess everything up even more, I’m sure. We’d be the ones ending up as the dumb fools in the situation. Did you already forget the time we fake dated to get that girl obsessed over you off your back? And how it backfired on us?” you stated, and Riki’s thoughtful silence justified your stance.

You’d rather die the most undignified death than have Yang Jungwon win the second time around, and that was not happening under Nishimura Riki’s watch.

“If I could just turn into a wizard or anything like that and ‘magic’ him away,” you plopped an arm up on the desk, resting the side of your cheek at the palm of your hand, “probably turn him into a damn ugly and useless broomstick while at it, too.”

Riki lets out a humorous short laugh at the sight of you, “Cheer up, princess,” he slings an arm around your shoulder, poking your cheek, “I’ll help you too, and I’ll beat him up whenever he tries to go near you; hot sexy Nishimura Riki cares about your cute dumbass,” You bump your hip playfully toward his. I’m not leaving you alone, is what he was trying to say.

He’d excuse it as simply returning the favor that he asked from you. The time when the both of you fake-dated, and it backfired – forcing you to reach extreme measures that went on for months.

Right, you had Riki. And he wasn’t going to just ditch you, not like him. He’s stayed firmly next to you for the past two years through all the shit you put him though (and all the shit he put you through). Riki may have been a rascal, but he was nothing compared to how shitty Yang Jungwon was.

You simply just had to keep going and help Jungwon out in certain parts while interacting the least you could and ignore him (or preferably call Riki to tell him off, he’d love to finally be given the chance to annoy the shit out of someone) whenever he tries anything funny. As soon as it was over, you’d do your stay out of his way and pretend like nothing happened. After all, he was the one who left. If anyone was trying to run away, it’d be him.

Everything was going to be fine. You didn’t care.

It was no big deal; no extensive measures were needed.

A sharp inhale.

You didn’t know if you were lying or if you were telling the truth.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ yellow by coldplay ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Jungwon liked to follow you around.

He also liked dragging you along with him with whatever excuse he could come up with. You never could really decipher what that oddball was thinking, just when you thought you caught up to him, he surprises you with something new every day.

Lee Heeseung, your senior, was discussing that week’s event that the school was holding with you when Jungwon swoops in and drags you away without second thought, “Sorry, hyung! Gotta borrow her today ~” he throws a grin, and Heeseung could only roll his eyes, staring in playful disbelief after the both of you, “ya, that’s what you said the last three times too!”

Jungwon gives the kind of pleading look you know Heeseung couldn’t resist, “I swear I’ll pay you back with free lunch, hyung!” he yells back. You were used to being dragged away or trailed around by him; it wasn’t anything of the ordinary. He winks at you.

No matter how hard you would try to avoid him or threaten him, he was always looking at you with the most mischievous silly and crazy ideas in mind.

On the other hand, he didn’t really enjoy the idea of you hanging out with other guys.

Could you call him delusional? You really wanted to.

And then there was this other instance, where Jungwon had sulked behind you the whole period, making noises that surely irritated you whilst you interviewed Park Jay for a class paper, who was a part of the varsity team. It forced you to spend the entire day with him for the interview, which Jungwon did not seem to like. It came to the point where you had to embarrassedly excuse yourself from the number of huffs and noises he was making. Jay was left giving confused looks, completely distracted from the whole topic that the whole interview was pointless no matter how hard her tried to ignore Jungwon.

“What is your deal?” You hissed at Jungwon in annoyance as soon as you scurried away from the varsity team, “you completely embarrassed me over there, you rascal!” He doesn’t hear you. He seemed deep in thought, as if he was battling with himself. Jungwon faced you with the biggest frown - looking more distraught than ever, “You don’t like him, right?”

Your mouth slightly hangs open, thrown off-guard. What?

“He isn’t your type, isn’t he? He doesn’t look like it. You’d never go for a guy like him.” He looked ridiculous – and it wasn’t much of a shock to you. An idiot and a loser. You figured it’d only be a matter of time before he completely lost his mind. It was as if he was talking to himself. You lightly whacked his arm, trying to get some sense into him and snap him out, “What are you talking about, you rascal?”

He bores his eyes onto yours, “Whatever. I won’t let you, anyway. I’ll stay by your side you ‘till the day I die if I have to.” His eyes were set with firm determination, yet you didn’t bother pressing on - being sure he was up to no good, as usual.

He was speaking, but you couldn’t piece together what he was trying to imply. You didn’t really care either, he was a weird guy. Still, you were frustrated at him for just having to mess everything up for you again, “I can’t believe you,” you muttered incredulously, turning your heel to start walking away from him – you were done with this boy.

“Hey – angel, no, wait. Where are you going –?”

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

Admittedly, you didn’t hate Yang Jungwon as much when you had first met him, but the dislike started to grow at a profound rate when he started acting as a nuisance the more occasions he stuck around.

You weren’t exaggerating. Jungwon was just the epitome of overbearingly unable to understand social boundaries and your extreme dislike of having him in a 2-mile radius near you.

And you had your dignity, but Jungwon was an entirely different topic. Hiding from him in the gymnasium lockers was your last resort.

“Gotcha,” a cheery voice slides in beside you out of nowhere. Your heart almost jumped out of your body in fright, did he always have to jump-scare you out of nowhere?

“Seriously –?!”

“Stop playing hide and seek with me, angel. I’d love to play this game some other time with you but not now! We have somewhere else to go!” He has got to be shallow. Or dumb. Really dumb. You don’t know. As much as he loved blabbering endless nonsense around you that never seemed to make sense and was barely capable of leaving your side, you barely knew anything of him.

You glowered at him, “I’m not playing hide and seek with you, you rascal! I’m obviously avoiding you –!”

He pats the top of your head before gently grabbing your hand, interrupting your nth effort to knock some sense into him. “Let’s go! It’s my turn for a Y/N day.” he points forward, leaving the library baggage hall that he found you hiding in. A Y/N day? What were you to him, an item? You groan, sounding sorrow. You really thought you got away from him this time. “Yah, we’re going to miss class!”

You didn’t even know why you bothered.

Jungwon tilts his head, giving you a look as if to tell you to not worry, “We’re going to the river today, anyway. I brought my boombox with me,” he proudly tells you, and you aggravatedly sigh, feeling defeated. You swore you made all the measures needed to carefully avoid him, thinking you were finally left alone.

“Why do you always bring me along?” you deadpan, trying to wriggle free from his grasp. He was probably going to insert another flirtatious line or something among those actions. Why don’t you ever leave me alone?

You never really got it. Any of his interests, in fact. Why was he so determined to pursue you? There were countless of girls who were more of a ‘challenge’, and they were all the more interesting than you, with no doubt. What did he see in you? “Don’t you have any other friends?” you pulled a face at him. Jungwon has been by your side for such a long time that you grew accustomed to his presence, still, you weren’t going to admit that.

“I don’t want to hang out with them, I want to go with you,” he simply explains, as if it was the most obvious answer.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, irritated, yet curious as you stress, “Why?”

He pauses, still looking ahead as he guides you forward, “Being around you makes me happy.” You simply glance at him and the look he has makes you shiver.

Jungwon was always straightforward. There was not an ounce of shame in that man’s soul. He said what was on his mind without any filter, and he also had a peculiar way of thinking, which in terms, you guess, made him intelligent.

A beat passes, and you don’t find a retort to throw back at him.

Jungwon was like this beaming sunshine and busted in the dark hell you drowned yourself in.

Even if you enjoyed the darkness.

He always knew where to find you.

He found you.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

Every year.

Every moment.

Jungwon was always there.

Yang Jungwon always knew where to find you, it was like his sixth sense. He could spot any of your bullshit or anything that you were hiding from him in a mile radius. There was no bother in hiding from him. He would always pop up by your side with a lopsided smile, carrying his guitar around and whining to you because he wanted to do something fun.

He was a bothersome child.

He was there in the times you didn’t want to see him, and he was there in the times where you needed someone but there was no one to turn to. It was as if you could summon him, you would always retort.

Making up excuses was his specialty, he always seemed to disregard everything to tag along with you. He made crazily creative alibies that never seemed to run out just in order to be able to stay by your side.

Until one day he stopped.

Until one day he ran out of reasons.

So, where was he and what was he doing two years ago when he left you the moment you needed only him the most?

One day, you woke up and he was gone. You haven’t heard from him since. Not a trace left. Not a ghost left to haunt you. And somehow, that haunted you even more.

Where did you go?

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

You liked the pastries that Jungwon used to make for you.

You remember that he made them for you a lot. Whenever you did a job well done on a simple test or if you overworked yourself, you always found a box of your favorite flavors on your desk or locker the following day. You didn’t have to question who it was from; he didn’t have to say anything.

You weren’t accustomed to having that kind of treatment. A simple job done is merely a simple job done. There hasn’t been much of a pat on a back or a congratulatory party for the little achievements, and that was completely fine you. However, that wasn’t the case for Jungwon.

Puzzled, you held up the mysterious box, “What is this?”

“Sweets. Try them and tell me if you like them or not,” you could tell that he was anxious in anticipation. You try and hand it back over to him, “Oh, I’m not really in the mood for sweets, you can go ahead and give them to Minju though, she loves -”

“I didn’t make them for Minju,” he stands in front of you, sort of dejected and earnest. That was a new look on him. His face seemingly somewhat deflated, and somewhat embarrassed. He scratches the back of his head awkwardly, refusing to meet your gaze as he shakes his head and changes his mind, trying to reach over the box to save his dignity in the situation.

Your eyes slightly widen, processing, “Wait,” you withdraw your extended arm, looking back at the box, pointing to it, “you made this?”

“It’s not really any -” Jungwon starts, reaching out for the box for him to take back but you swat his arm away.

“You should’ve said so, dumbass! I love things homemade,” you explain lightheartedly, your eyes glittering once you open the box to reveal damn beautifully decorated chocolates. Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape from the blow, almost gasping.

He did that?

“You don’t have to act all that, you know,” Jungwon adds, and when you spare him a glace, you realize he’s being serious.

You roll your eyes at him, ready to punch his arm. Acting? He wishes! Was he just wanting more compliments from you, or did he really believe that his baking didn’t look like the prettiest things ever? They looked too beautiful to eat but you didn’t know if you could manage to restrain yourself from eating something that looked so delicious. “Shut up, look at that! Are you, like, a world-renowned baker or something?”

As soon as nearly half of the box was eaten by you, you mentally felt something hit you, like a pang. Though you couldn’t exactly discern what. You felt something, a lurch of it. A swell of happiness, a swell of being seen, a swell of not being alone, not anymore. “Jungwon?” you looked at him.

He leaned his weight against the wall in the front of you, taking one of his earpieces off, “Mm.”

“Thanks,” It was casual, but you meant it. You really did. He could read it from your eyes. He probably spent a lot of time making these, you thought. Then you realize that’s all he ever did to you; spend his time on you.

He’s sincere. A troublesome rascal, definitely. But sincere. It’s funny how it took him to just make some homemade sweets for you to see and realize, “you’re not that bad.”

You don’t know if you left him speechless, but you walk down the hallway with him staring after you. Words left unspoken.

Something new had changed then.

You didn’t know what to call it.

But it felt good.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ meet me at our spot by the anxiety ]

THE NEXT MORNING

[8:04 am] unknown number: hi good morning

[8:04 am] unknown number: it’s jungwon :)

[8:05 am] unknown number: i just wanted to wish u a good day

[8:06 am] unknown number: i’m really proud of u

Four text messages to ruin the start of your day.

And in addition, there it was: the exact familiar box of pastries on the desk you were at yesterday that morning.

You nearly got yourself nauseous at the sight.

Were you dreaming?

Blinking it off, you snap out of it. You scoff, Jungwon was more shameless and a lot bolder than you thought. What was the box supposed to signify? ‘I’m proud of you’?, ‘I’m sorry’?, or an ‘I miss you’? Either way, you never knew Yang Jungwon could ever stoop so low.

Two years and the first thing he does is give you a box of sweets, was he thinking it’d pay back all the shit he pulled? Bribe you with sweets and suddenly everything would be okay?

Your resentment for him grew even more.

Anger was a better feeling to experience other than any of the other emotions.

At the side of your eye, you could see Jungwon. You pretend not to, and you try so hard. You don’t miss the glances he throws you, he was probably waiting for your response.

Surely, he should expect from you that the response was going to be nothing good. Does he know you at all?

Throwing it away seemed over the top, but you didn’t know what the rest of your options were. You hesitate, eating it would only make him believe that everything’s okay. And in case Jungwon didn’t get the memo: everything is not okay.

This won’t hurt you.

You toss the box to someone else; your hands slightly freeze on its own for a moment when you realize Jungwon was watching. Only for a moment.

You weren’t taking his bait.

You didn’t want it.

You don’t look at him, and you don’t bother to see his reaction. Biting down your tongue, you jabbed your pen down the desk forcefully - you ignore the sense of guilt. He asked for it.

It takes a bit more effort to remain nonchalant this time.

Jungwon was getting in your nerves. Again.

LATER

You were dragged into a library group filled with people you barely knew of by Ningning and Seoyeon. You recognized Jake Sim from chemistry class, and a few others that you weren’t entirely confident you knew the name of. Jungwon was there. Of course, he had to be.

Though you were an expert at turning invitations and confessions down, you really weren’t much of the action type. Some would call you the ‘all bark, no bite’ type, but that was mostly because people who ensued and pressed on having it their way was just stubborn.

Most of your life, people went along your bark, it was rare that anyone went against it – but not impossible. Yang Jungwon.

The name flashes by your mind involuntarily as if it was a burn.

As if your mind works on its own, you find yourself staring at him – he paid no interest in the conversation as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, bored. The only word he had ever said was when he had assertively stated that he wanted the seat that was close to yours. He had also joined the conversation and firmly voted against Jake sitting next to you. What a problem boy.

[02:44 pm] yang jungwon: u look good today

You were bored, but definitely not bored enough to be willing to immerse yourself into that mess.

You were entirely out of the group’s topic of conversation yourself, immersing yourself all in your head and thoughts until a girl named Naeun – you think – waggles her brows at you. “What about you, ms. ‘most-popular-with-guys’?”

“How many of them did you turn down this week?” Lee adds into it lightheartedly, poking fun.

Jungwon’s attention is immediately averted to you – and you hate that you can feel his gaze boring into your face.

You feel more uncomfortable than ever, trying to argue with them, “What? That’s not true—!”

Ningning’s eyes glint in mischievousness, taking in your denial as something you were embarrassed about as she joins into the conversation. But it wasn’t, not entirely.

You were highly uncomfortable. “Don’t deny it. You’re more than just ‘popular’ with guys. I swear I saw with my own eyes at least two guys try and hit you up on this exact library alone from the past few days.”

You could hear chortled laughter from around you.

You know none of the voices belonged to or were from Jungwon.

You’d rather suffocate.

“I heard you were pretty popular with the guys during your high school years too!” Seoyeon chirped. You felt nauseated. Where did they even hear that information? You incredulously retorted to yourself.

“D’you date any of them?” Lun from literature class pipes in, interested. You feel your face turn hot against your will. “Any hotties you can introduce me to?” someone adds into it suggestively, clearly enjoying the topic of discussion.

Your face starts to sour, reeking of irritation.

“Ooh! I remember hearing Y/N dated a guy during high school. That’s probably why she wasn’t able to date much?” Ningning suggests, and you wanted to kick her out of the room. Was anyone just not able to pick out on social cues? Was everyone not able to notice how uncomfortable you looked?

Seoyeon’s eyes enlarged in alarm, “Y/N dated before?” Despite the distressing situation, you almost slipped out a laugh, you were always known for your strong dislike towards romance and men and you liked it that way. You guess the impression still hasn’t changed.

He’s in the exact same room right now, you wanted to spit out. Your face hardens, but you don’t say anything.

“What’s the big deal? We were barely anything anyway.”

Ningning does not get your clue, instead, she looks more confused than ever. “Huh? From what I heard; you both were pretty serious.”

“You never told me anything about him,” Seoyeon complains, grabbing your arm and repeatedly swinging it around. With everyone’s attention on you, your usual ‘i-hate-everyone’ façade falls into dust.

You snort, keeping your tone casual, “About what? He was barely anyone special, in the first place.”

A bunch of unanimous curious ‘oohs’ were heard around the room. “Oohlala, spill. What made the relationship end?”

You take a thoughtful pause, as if it was the first time you were giving it thought, “He was selfish.” A shrug.

You ensure that the whole table hears your answer, especially him. Ningning scrunches her nose in distaste at your answer, “Ugh, typical. Boys really aren’t shit.”

“You’d give your entire world to them, and they decide that it’s not enough. Discontented assholes.” Lee comments with a bunch of insults thrown away without regard, and the Seoyeon pretends to vomit at the mention of boys. “Dirtbags. His loss,” is all she says.

You really don’t have any idea of what to do in this situation.

A strangled noise escapes Jungwon, and he covers it up with loud coughs. He looked like he’s just been badly burned, and you try to casually shift in your seat. The rest of the group takes it as a cue to ask him the same question as well, figuring he wanted to be included.

“And what about you, newbie?” Jake notices, an effort to try to get Jungwon to feel included. “Ever dated before?”

He stares blankly in response. A glance your way, and it takes a fraction of a second for you to avert your eyes away. You hope no one caught that. A moment. Or two. Until, “No, never.” Casually, with a helpless shrug before his attention was back on his phone. He doesn’t even regard that you were ever a part of his past.

Your insides clenches on their own.

That was it. The signal. You were back to being notoriously known for your cold behavior, good grades, and popular game with men, while Jungwon was back into his reputation of being a cute and care-free affectionate and loveable brat that would never do anyone wrong.

Everything was back the way it started.

Rewind. A start over. Where Jungwon doesn’t get to see the nurturing, caring, childish, and mischievous side of you, and where you never got to see the depth to him: his coolness and his silence. The eyebrow lifts, his head-pats, his reliability, his loyalty, his promises, his stories, his determination – everything about him that everyone missed, that was simply nothing now.

We’ll never be those kids again.

Your phone buzzes.

[02:52 pm] yang jungwon: i figured u didn’t want them to know.

[02:54pm] yang jungwon: are you mad?

Both your eyes meet in the midst of the others bickering with each other.

All the remnants of history erased.

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

[ JUNGWON'S POV: 1 YEAR AGO ]

“I’ve been looking for you all night!” she skips, twirling in front of him, “What d’you think? I figured you might like this outfit.” She had an annoying voice, and was definitely way too clingy. Black long hair or something, honestly, any of the faces he’s seen were all only just blank and empty to him.

Jungwon doesn’t even regard her existence.

“C’mon ~” The girl drags, tugging at his arm. He doesn’t even know her name. He’s probably crossed by her more than a couple times with the way she was acting.

She was annoying. Not like you at all. No one was like you.

Jungwon was already in a sour mood. “You’ve been stuck at the couch all night, you lame-dummy!” She points a dragging finger to his chest, “No one wants to be a lame-dummy, c’mon, come with me! It’ll be fun,” she tries to persuade in a sing-song voice, inviting him in.

It doesn’t shake him by the least.

He shakes his head, shortly emitting a single scoff in irritation as he jerks away the hand on his shoulder. His tense facial features say everything. Without saying another word, he chooses to leave the room quietly and awkwardly without bidding goodbye to the other friends who invited him.

These parties were useless. Everything was useless. Every day was too boring and empty without meaning.

He had no place here.

This wasn’t where he belonged.

He damn well still belonged to that person he always has belonged to.

You.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

[09:12 pm] yang jungwon: hello bo ;]

[09:12 pm] yang jungwon: i hope u had a good day :)

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: i’m always here if u need me

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: just so you know

[09:17 pm] yang jungwon: i’ll always be there

[09:20 pm] yang jungwon: and i hope i crossed your mind at least once..

read

A FEW DAYS LATER

You were beyond thankful to have Seoyeon around him to save yourself the awkward interactions.

She was the icebreaker. The only factor that allowed you to act as if Jungwon wasn’t there in the first place and ignore his existence. Given that she was an icebreaker, she was also clueless.

She had no idea of the hatred you had for him - or the reluctance to look his way, much more interact with him. It wasn’t her fault, but you wish you rather didn’t have to explain the situation to her as the only option for her to stop trying to get you and Jungwon to talk.

“Wasn’t yesterday fun? It was nice having new people around,” she brings up as a conversation starter. Jungwon was minding his business working on his project on the side, the both of you had your free time. You politely smile at her, and you know it looks genuine. Explaining things to her wasn’t ideal – you shudder that the possibilities that would happen once you’d confess the situation.

Maybe Jungwon was a private secret of your past that you were never meant to bring up to those in your present.

“That reminds me, who’s the group you hang out with? We really should hang out more.” She slightly frowns before adding, “You’re really fun!”

“You too,” you add with a half grin, and you genuinely mean it. You kindly nod in agreement with a laugh, desperate to end the topic – but Seoyeon doesn’t cease her intent of giving up her first question.

She smiles at you expectantly as she awaits for an answer, and though you know she’s really just trying to make friends, if awkward topics were all that she was going to be bringing up around you, you would rather not converse with her at all. “Oh uh, that question,” you forced a laugh that comes out awkward, “no one else, really.”

Her lips form a small ‘o’ shape, apologizing for intruding. She softly gasps, alarmed, “Really? To be honest, I think it’s because everyone’s intimidated of you. It was until a few seconds ago that the whole campus figured you had countless of friend groups. Me included.”

You furiously shake your head at her, making a dreadful face in which she giggles at, “Oh God, no.” you comment, “it’s really just me,” you pause, “and Riki of course. Riki. Me and Riki. No one else. Kind of a loner,” you coughed out an awkward ramble, but Seoyeon never even seemed to mind.

“That’s cool, neither way! I get to have you to myself,” she teases lightheartedly as she links her arm around yours.

You were too flustered to notice that Jungwon had heard everything.

THAT EVENING

[10:21 pm] yang jungwon: hi love

[10:22 pm] yang jungwon: you must be tired i hope u rest up tonight :)

[10:22 pm] yang jungwon: i’ve really missed u

[11:49 pm] yang jungwon: goodnight love, sweet dreams :) ♡

read

By the next day, at the end of class, you’re forced to work with Jungwon at the library for the afternoon. Seoyeon was running late by fifteen minutes. This was the only time you didn’t mind.

The air is cold, and the tension was cutthroat, you could suffocate, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Starting a friendly conversation? Why even bother?

You decided to ask him straightforward the moment he tries to initiate conversation by asking you a question, cutting him off, “What are you pulling at?” you blankly stared at him, pokerfaced. Maybe you went off too aggressive, but his face slacks; he was definitely accustomed to your whole act of ignoring his existence, and probably never expected you to even spare a glance his way.

A long pause before he regains his composure, “What do you mean?” his voice is a lot quieter and controlled compared to the past. Now that you notice it, he’s changed in a lot of ways. He’s no longer the bright happy-go-lucky rascal that you were once familiar with. No longer the one who didn’t care about grades, but the one sitting beside you at one of the best universities. He’s … matured a lot.

“The messages?” cutting directly into it, your eyes narrowed on him, “what are you trying to pull at?” you interrogate him. Tell me lies. Tell me the truth. Tell me you’re leaving. Tell me you’re staying.

Surprise is written all over his face, catching him off gaurd, “They’re nothing,” he clears his throat, words getting caught in the midst of it. “I just thought … I, um,” he trailed off, avoiding direct eye contact.

Your hard gaze doesn’t falter, patience running thin. “Spit it out, Yang.”

He winces at your tone, and you wished you hadn’t seen that. “I just thought that you needed it. Not needed it exactly, but, well, I assumed - I wanted to let you know -” he doesn’t finish his sentence, but starts another one instead, “I just miss you,” he states, and he’s looking at you - you remember that kind of look. The kind of look that would once tug at your heartstrings.

Once.

You don’t know what Yang Jungwon is pulling at.

Hm.

You stare down hard at him - eyes narrowed, prospecting, judging, and surveying. You no longer tremble at his words. You don’t falter. Have you grown immune to them? Maybe you were sincerely and truly over him after all.

He was pulling at his charms. His thoughtfulness - the little aspects that’d make you believe that he actually cared; the things you so easily fell into. Not anymore. Not after you believed, once.

Once was enough. It’s all a simple game to him, isn’t it?

The day you break down in front of him and let him hold the strings again would be the day you would die.

Not showing a flicker of emotion, you nonchalantly tsked, irritated, “Don’t bother again, will you?”

Jungwon doesn’t say anything, but you feel his lingering stare.

Your settling glare on the textbook in front of you could burn holes. You let him go – you dismiss him, but he never leaves his spot.

Why does he always linger behind?

[01:03pm] yang jungwon: i don’t know if we should be alone together

read

[02:54pm] yang jungwon: i really can’t control myself when you’re around

read

[04:23pm] yang jungwon: i miss the old you

[04:26pm] yang jungwon: im sorry

read

How much was it going to take for you to admit that you felt the same?

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: just so you know i didn’t mean it that way

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: i just noticed that you’ve changed

[05:33pm] yang jungwon: of course you’ve changed

[05:35pm] yang jungwon: you don’t look at me the same anymore

read

[04:47am] yang jungwon: hi bo

[04:47am] yang jungwon: im sorry but i cant

[04:48am] yang jungwon: i really cant let you go

message delivered

A FEW WEEKS LATER

It didn’t take much for her to piece together. She noticed the pattern of behavior from you, your sour and aggravated persona, and Jungwon’s desperate efforts, then figured you were probably his ex.

“You know,” she clicks her tongue, “the thing about love and hate is that there’s a very thin line between them.”

She squints, fingers fiddling around with a penny as she tries to explain, “they’re two sides of the same coin.”

You made a face. She’s been going about this for hours and showed no sign of stopping. Whining, you turn her way, “what are you taking about this time?”

A grin. She raises both her brows in surrender, “You guys got a lot of unfinished business.”

You give her a look, unimpressed.

“The guy nearly snapped his head yesterday the moment he heard you laugh because he wanted to know what you were laughing about,” Seoyeon stares down at you steadily, provoked that you managed to toss the fact over too easily.

You throw her a crumpled piece of paper, and she easily dodges your throw. “Sure.” you snort, barely feigning any interest.

“Cut him some slack! He was your ex for goodness’ sake, some feelings for him still have to be there at some point. You can’t hate your ex that much without actually-maybe-probably loving them,” she singsongs teasingly. This was lighthearted, you knew, but.

You deadpanned. Feelings.

She has got to be serious.

Some feelings still have to be there.

Your heart didn’t feel anything.

Not anymore.

She stares at you in the silence, faking astonishment.

Her mouth forms a small ‘o’, “You’ve got to be serious.”

You only blink at her.

“Stop … don’t you feel anything for him anymore? Or is it like … nothing at all?” Of course, she was talking about him, you knew that - but why were you suddenly caught off guard? This was crazy.

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

No one has ever asked you this question.

How were you going to answer that?

You resented him.

You were angry. More than pissed.

You hated everything about him.

Your face scrunches up in disgust at the thought, but you answer her question after a pause, “One thing I know for sure,” you start casually, pausing in consideration, “is that I don’t want to see that annoying face of his again.”

You meant every word, this time.

You were willing to do whatever it took for that to happen.

At that moment, Seoyeon then concludes that the both of you had unfinished business. Jungwon was clearly not over you, anyone with a mile radius could see that. The boy was drop-dead crazy for you.

The more you try and repress feelings, the larger it grows.

How cliché does that sound?

She tilts her head to the side, glancing your way. But in a way, she knew it wasn’t one-sided, either.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ all too well by taylor swift ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

“Jungwon?” you whispered incredulously. Rubbing your eyes due to your half-asleep state, you leaned your frame against your door with your worry starting to alarm you awake. “What’re you doing here?”

Standing at your apartment door, your boyfriend appeared rugged, his eyes tired and drowsy. You noticed his clothes were still of what you saw him wear yesterday morning. your heart ached to see him in such a state, concluding he had spent the whole day producing, working, and overworking himself without rest. You hated whenever he did this to himself.

Seeing you frown, Jungwon pulls you to his embrace, wrapping you around his arms with a contented sigh, “Just wanted to see my baby,” he mumbles out incoherently, fighting through sleep, “I’ve missed you.”

You clung onto him, your face still at a cloudy state of haze – unreservedly astounded. Meanwhile on the other hand, Jungwon continues to laugh over your dumbfounded look. He pinches the sides of your cheeks, cooing over at you. As you try to wriggle yourself away, you found yourself embracing your figure back into his arms to squeeze his waist tightly in fear that he might disappear. He teases you at the action, lightheartedly calling you his little koala, but you don’t miss the endearing tone to his voice – or the way his breath hitches from your embrace.

“You’re here,” you managed to breathe out to yourself, burying your forehead against his neck. Squeezing your eyes shut, you desperately hoped to the gods above that the moment you opened them, everything wasn’t just going to turn out as another dream of yours. You could barely process much more comprehend what was going on, ‘he’s here, he’s here, he’s here’ were the only notions you could formulate by the slightest, chanting through your brainwork repeatedly for you to comprehend. Humorously, you didn’t wonder how he was possibly here, or why. He shouldn’t be - he was too busy.

You didn’t think about the fact that he’s supposed to be halfway across the world working on his production, and definitely not here. Inhaling his scent, your ongoing worries and stress had seemed to evaporate, your form relaxing almost immediately. He smelled like home.

The loud chatters and distinctive outside noise from people passing by that surrounded the both of you, along the fact that the both of you were in a public place – all had seemed to drown out and appear forgotten. You clung to his warm figure after months of being apart, out of all the days you’d secretly dreamed about him surprising you, you never figured today was going to be that day. You clasped onto him even tighter, your smile growing wider by the second, it’s been quite some time since you ever felt half this happy.

He let out a low vibrating laugh with your face pressed against his chest, engulfing you tightly around his hold whilst swaying the both of you side to side. It was little moments and acts of efforts like these that mattered most to you. You drowned yourself at the rhythm and sound of his heartbeat that spoke the words the both of you already knew; he had missed you.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

Maybe you were always too busy for Yang Jungwon when the both of you dated.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe that was the reason why.

Or maybe he simply always seeking attention from you, constantly and childishly. He complained about you studying too much as he started sulking alone was, he wandered around the place ‘miserably’, while you were trying to place your focus on your book, refusing to give into him again.

A little later and he tossed the fact that he had to pick up some errands, and you volunteered to help accompany him since he mentioned that he’d only be out for a while.

But after picking up the things he had acquired through his errands, the rain was against your luck and poured heavily. You cursed at yourself, having brought no umbrella with you. Looking at Jungwon, you could judge immediately by then that he didn’t bring one as well.

“Running for it sounds pretty good,” you suggested with a beam on your face, but you noticed how Jungwon huffed in disagreement, not approving of the idea; worrying that the rain might get you hurt or sick as he starts pulling out deliberate excuses and reasons.

“It’s too slippery out in the rain, you might fall,”

“Car accidents happen more often in the rain,”

“You’ll get sick, can you afford to be sick at a time like this?”

You ignored all his protests when you decided to just audaciously leave the store entrance before walking into the rain without any given warning.

He doesn’t say anything, and when you glanced back at him in question, you immediately noticed how visibly irritated he was with you misbehaving and ignoring him. Jungwon was always overly protective over you.

Though you appreciated it, his over-protectiveness wasn’t something you exactly needed at this time of your mid-terms. You just needed to study, and Jungwon could simply work on his music. The place you were at wasn’t too far from home, so it wasn’t exactly too absurd to make a run for it.

His eyes zeroed on you, giving no humor in his eyes, “Come back in here.”

You looked at him with fake-pleading eyes, “I left my notes back home,” you frowned.

“I don’t care. You are not getting sick.”

He wanted to sit the rain out, of course he did. But you didn’t know when the rain was going to stop, or if it ever showed any signs of stopping, in the first place. Just by your boyfriend’s tone itself, you knew you got yourself in trouble. That was not a good sign, he would always pull some crazy idea that would always try to teach you a lesson.

You didn’t move an inch from your spot.

Jungwon hurdled at you once he realizes that you were being stubborn, wrapping his arms around your waist securely regardless of the hefty downpour of rain, “Step another foot further and I’ll make sure you’ll never be touching your beloved notes again.”

“Ugh, Yang Jungwon, are you crazy?” you argued, trying to untangle yourself from him but his firm grip wouldn’t let you go.

“Jungwon, I’m serious! I really need to study, I have my exams—!”

“Aish, you’d be on your deathbed, and you wouldn’t even think of me at all, you would only care about studying!” he contested nonsensically as he dramatically complains.

You scowled at his comment, your face souring as you try wriggling yourself out of his grasp even harder, “Yah, you rascal!”

“Come back inside and I’ll let you go,” he conditions, a small grin showing that he had won. You glower at him, but having no choice but to subit and wait the next two hours by the porch of the store for the rain to subside. He covers you by towering in front of you, ensuring that you weren’t going to get hit by the rain.

Jungwon was a lot of maintenance - a lot of people would say, but he was adorable.

And most of all, he was yours.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

PRESENT [ JUNGWON'S POV ]

Jungwon spends the rest of his night at school fixing up your science project, without an ounce of sleep.

He finds Sunoo dropping by the room, slightly jumping in surprise at the sight of him there. He covers his chest with his hand, “What the hell are you doing here?” he lightheartedly scolds him.

But he pauses squinting at him, “Were you . . .” his eyes widen, “Dude, did you spend the entire night here?” he asks Jungwon, bewildered. “Doing . . .” he tilts his head, taking a peek, and his mouth hangs open as he finally pieces things together, “-Y/N’s science lab project . . .?”

Sunoo’s eyes almost budge out of his sockets. “Isn’t this what Y/N’s been worrying crazy about –? How did you –?”

He couldn’t exactly admit that he’s overheard you complaining about your project and begging others to help you with it miserably. He knew you always took your grades seriously, but, how could he explain this to Sunoo of all people?

Jungwon looks conflicted, immediately standing away from your project. He was finished wish it, anyway. He just needed to get here undetected by you. Kim Sunoo was a problem, however. There was no way Sunoo wasn’t not telling you about this.

“Don’t tell her I did this,” Jungwon tells him, reading Sunoo’s next moves.

His eyes dart from the project to Jungwon. He frowns, confused. “Why not?”

Jungwon hesitates with his words, being careful. “Just because. Don’t.” What the hell can he say? The bell rings, and he panics.

“She has a hell of an ego, you know this. Tell her you fixed this or something. I don’t know. Make some shit up.”

He scurries out the lab but hangs behind at the entrance door for a few seconds.

Jungwon emphasizes what he’s told Sunoo. “I’m counting on you, bro.”

He slips away like a ghost.

Sunoo tells you that Ningning and Jake helped with your final lab project, and you believed it – eyes sparkling with relief and complete utter gratitude. You wondered how they got to finish the project in a day. They were the chemistry experts of the class, anyway – who were you to question them?

Sunoo sees Jungwon at the side of the room looking at you and your project. He watches him watch you. How happy you were with the project, and the endless showering of compliments. Was he really just . . . not going to tell you?

Sunoo takes a look at both you and Jungwon and scratches his head in utter confusion. What was going on with the both of you?

He has no idea what that boy is hiding.

A FEW DAYS LATER IN THAT WEEK

Jungwon really was getting in your nerves.

On your way to class, you did nothing but mind your own business when he swirls out of nowhere and pushes you aside, refraining you from entering the classroom. You furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, trying to wriggle away from his grasp, but his grip stays firm. He’s holding the sides of both your arms to let you stay in place, looking anxious and rushed. “Wait.”

“Yang Jungwon, what the hell?”

He tries to find words to say, but he can’t find any. “I . . . like the color of your hair. Did you dye it?”

Your stare is blank. “What?”

“I need recommendations. I might use it too, so –“

“This is my natural hair color.” you deadpan, without an ounce of friendliness, “now if you’ll excuse me –”

“No! Gah,” he lets out a frustrated noise, rushed, “. . . the speech report! I need help in –“

He was messing with you. He had to be.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do,” you try to breathe in calmly, but you were talking through your gritted teeth. “You submitted your speech report last week,” you hissed, your patience running thin.

You finally wriggle yourself free from his grasp, and that was when the panic was evident in Jungwon’s features.

You barely get to move an inch before, “Do you still have hang-ups on me?” He rushes out of nowhere, an attempt of desperation.

What?

To say that you were at a loss for words was an understatement.

You freeze. Staring at him, dumbfounded.

Were you simply a joke to him?

What was he saying? He was desperate, willing to just have your attention anywhere else. You could not enter the room. That was his plan.

You were trying to regain composure. Clamping your jaw down hard, your eyes narrowed. “Please, kindly fuck off.”

You stalk away, pissed off.

As soon as he ensured that you were walking the opposite direction, and Jungwon heaves a small sigh of relief. At least.

He budges the door classroom open – the room he had noticed that a couple of asshats were trying to pull on harsh pranks on – and immediately, an old tray of leftover food spills from above, falling flat on the floor instead as Jungwon dodges it from anticipating this beforehand.

And you piece thing and thing together.

This was what he was driving you away from?

Because that could’ve been you.

His eyes settle on the group of bullies seated at the end of the room. He cracks his knuckles. Jungwon’s eyes have never been so deadly.

Jungwon comes in class later with a purple bruise coloring his upper left cheek, and a busted lip.

You don’t ask him the story, but instead, you assume the worst in him. Like you always do.

He’s up to no good.

He always was.

[08:12pm] yang jungwon: are you going?

[08:21pm] you: ?

[08:21pm] yang jungwon: oh hi love

[08:22pm] yang jungwon: are you coming to gyeonju tower tomorrow? i wanted to tell you in person today but you seemed like u were in a rush to leave

[08:24pm] you: ? what do you want

[08:25pm] yang jungwon: i wanted to explain things

[08:25pm] yang jungwon: and explain myself

read

[08:53pm] yang jungwon: i want to make things right

[08:54pm] yang jungwon: please let me, bo

[08:54pm] you: im busy.

[08:57pm] yang jungwon: i’ll be waiting for you tomorrow at 1pm

[09:00pm] you: i said im not going.

[09:02pm] yang jungwon: just one chance, please

[09:04pm] yang jungwon: one last one

read

You didn’t care, you weren’t going.

THE FOLLOWING DAY

You’ve decided that you wouldn’t go.

You won’t go.

You won’t go, end of discussion.

You spent the last night considering it until two in the morning. You’ve finalized your decision. “This is a no-brainer. Who does he think he is? I’m not giving him the satisfaction,” you rant morely to yourself - it was almost as if you werer trying to convince yourself instead.

You tug at the ends of your hair in frustration, hissing. Both Ningning and Seoyeon watches you in silent amusement after being told of the situation. The two were the only ones who knew about you and Jungwon, and the only two who you’ve been ranting to for the past two hours.

“I’m not going,” you repeat aggravatedly, exclaiming as you fling your arms. You pace around the room.

Ningning languidly lazes around the chair as you frantically pace around the room, “So you’ve told us for the past forty six times,” she can’t help but comment, fighting away her grin. You scowl at her, grabbing the strap of your bag to sling it around your shoulder.

“You guys are annoying. I’m leaving.”

Both Seoyeon and Ningning stare after you, waving you goodbye at your stressed state.

Ningning props herself up with her elbows, leaning her cheek with the palm of her hands as soon as you’ve left the room. She stares at Seoyeon, who was mindlessly scrolling through her phone, “She’s definitely going, isn’t she?”

Seoyeon tosses the bag of chips that she’s been hogging Ningning’s way - which she accepts immediately, munching down on the ones on her palm with disinterest, “Yep.”

LATER, 1 PM

You tug awkwardly at your sleeve, eyes searching for a certain figure in mind as they bunglingly dart around the place.

So, maybe you really did end up going to the tower. Just to check things out. That was it. And maybe see if he was there. If he really showed up. Hear what he wanted to say if it was important. Nothing more. You felt bad just leaving him alone - you weren’t like him, intentionally leaving someone on for hours to wait for you.

You had a conscience. You simply showed up because you didn’t want to be burdened by it.

You don’t know how long you waited on the first half of the period under the heat of the sun from the tower, but by the time you take out your phone to check the time, it was half past one in the afternoon.

Tick-tok.

You stare at your phone’s lock screen, expecting a text from Jungwon to pop up any second to inform you that he was probably running late. Anything.

An hour passes by.

You figure you’d give him another thirty minutes. Just another thirty minutes. If he wasn’t going to show up, you didn’t care anymore. You would leave.

It was past 30 minutes.

Another hour passes by.

Until rain starts to lightly drizzle.

Until clouds start to darken.

Until your legs start to ache.

And until you were soaking and clothes drenched with water in the pouring heavy rain.

Again.

Until it dawns on you.

Jungwon isn’t here.

He wasn’t coming.

He was never going to.

And there you were, standing alone stupidly – a fool. A fool who never learned her lesson after two years.

He was enjoying this; toying with you, he’s got to be.

You don’t know why you really expected anything else from him.

A heavy exhale.

You don’t know why you hoped you did.

You get a call from Jungwon by the evening. You were dumbly weak enough to easily get manipulated to answer the phone.

He sounded frantic, “Hello? Y/N? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to attend our meet-up. I’m - I’m really sorry, I was really planning to go -” You wish you could believe him.

“Yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you sound too monotone for your words to sound like you meant them.

“I’m so sorry that you waited on me, I promise I’ll make it up to -” No more promises. No more, Jungwon. I can’t take anymore.

You harshly cut him off, oppressive. “What do you mean? I didn’t come. I told you I won’t, didn’t I?”

You still had your dignity. Lies were all that you had left. You’d lie just for Jungwon to not get that sense of satisfaction from you. You wouldn’t let him.

He is silent, “Yeah, I know.”

You inhale, vexed. Your eyes flicker around the room, feeling flighty with apprehension. “What’s up, anyway? What held you from coming?” you made an effort to sound as casual as possible bringing it up, as if you didn’t care. As if you didn’t spend the whole afternoon drenched in pouring rain waiting for him.

A long silent pause again. You could tell he was hesitating to answer.

He tries to let out a lighthearted laugh as he waves it off, "It’s nothing.”

It was nothing, again. It’s always nothing. Were you ever something - anything - to him?

It takes a moment for you to register his response. How effortlessly care-free he was about it. Your tone appears tight, “Okay. Well, it’s good that you weren’t able to go. I wasn’t there anyway.” You didn’t know what else to say other than stressing that you never came. That you didn’t care.

Lie.

“Oh,” is what Jungwon replies with, he sounded distracted - like his mind wasn’t in the conversation. He wasn’t interested in talking to you anyway, why did he bother calling?

You grit at your teeth, “I’m not a fool, Jungwon.”

You don’t know if he’s even listening to you, you start to question. It takes long for him to respond, “I know.”

He was being as short with his responses as ever. Was this what he called explaining himself? You doubt if he ever cared about making it up to you in the first place. You try to hide your disappointment in your tone with impatience, “Is that all? I’m gonna go now. I’m busy.”

You don’t wait for his reply.

You immediately end the call and toss your phone as far as you could.

You hope that was worth it for Jungwon.

[ JUNGWON’S POV ] . . . what really happened

Jungwon woke up three hours earlier that day.

When Jungwon was getting himself dressed, a boy from across the city was still sleeping through his alarm that he wasn’t able to set the night before. Meanwhile, a girl was waiting somewhere in the city’s lobby, waiting for her boyfriend to pick her up.

While that happened, Jungwon was on his way to a jewelry shop to buy you a gift. He was beyond excited to see you. The boy from across the city was still sleeping, but the girl’s boyfriend eventually came to pick her up. On the other side, Jungwon had forgotten his credit card, and had no other option to pay by cash.

By this time, the sleeping boy’s mother barges into the boy’s room to wake him up as he was late for class – and asking him if he spent another late night playing with his friends. The girl in her boyfriend’s car receives a text from her ex while her boyfriend stops by to pick up the cake they ordered for their anniversary.

Jungwon was nearly at the Gyeonju tower when the boy who was running late for class stumbled out of the house, got on his bike, and peddled as fast as he could. The girl was already texting her ex-boyfriend by this time, and before she could tuck her phone away as soon as her boyfriend got into the car, the boyfriend had caught her already.

All the while the couple slowly started to argue about her talking to her ex, Jungwon was stuck in traffic and anxiously waiting – frustrated. Though he had more than an hour to spare, he wanted to see you as quickly as possible. This was the moment of his life that meant most to him. The boy who was running late took a wrong turn because he was not on the right state of mind, still half-asleep.

The couple argued all the way to the girlfriend’s parents’ house while the boy in the bike running late was trying to find his way out of the unfamiliar place, completely flustered. Jungwon had already arrived at Gyeonju tower, parking his car before trying to fix up his hair. He never really cared about how he looked like, but Jungwon’s nerves were jittering. This was the first time he was so anxious to see you.

And finally, at the same time, the boy was too distracted to see the couple’s car in front of him – as well as the couple, as they were still too busy arguing. Jungwon had just gotten out of the car, crossing the road.

It all happened too quickly.

If the son had set his alarm the day before and wasn’t running late for his class, if the girl hadn’t picked up the call from her ex-boyfriend, if couple hadn’t been arguing while the boyfriend was driving, or if Jungwon didn’t take his time in the car mirror trying to make sure he looked good for you - then maybe he would’ve gotten to meet you that night.

Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten into that car accident.

Maybe none of this would’ve be happening right now.

Life is a series of multiple interactions, they said.

The next situation Jungwon finds himself in was lying still – unable to move – in the hospital emergency room with blood – his blood? – covered all over his clothes, and when he gains the smallest bit of energy to barely open his eyes, he feels like he’s lost everything all over again.

In spite of all the events, he remembers you.

Your smile.

And his promise.

But he blacks out.

The moment Jungwon awakes into consciousness, his first thought isn’t what he was doing in an emergency room hospital, all alone. It isn’t wondering why he had blood all over his clothes, or why his body physically hurt too much for him to move.

His first thought was you.

His first thought was always going to be you. Where were you? What-? He sees the small bag settled beside him, squinting at it - before realizing it was for you. For the meeting. Today. Shit. In less than half a second, he ignores the pins and needles of his skin feeling like it was being stretched out just to reach his phone and dial your number.

“Hello? Y/N? I’m so sorry, I wasn’t able to attend our meet-up. I’m - I’m really sorry, I was really planning to go -”

Your tone interrupts him midway, seemingly clipped and tight. “Yeah. It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” were you mad? Guessing by the tone of your voice, you seemed upset. Lord, he begged for that one chance you gave him and he had to go through this out of all the occasions?

You pinches the bridge of his nose after running a hand through his hair, cursing inwardly. How many more chances could you give him? You would never believe him ever again. “I’m so sorry that you waited on me, I promise I’ll make it up to -”

Your response hits him right in the gut, harder and more painful than any of the stitches and bandages he had being freshly reopened. “What do you mean? I didn’t come. I told you I won’t, didn’t I?”

His throat constricts, eyes lowering as the grip on the phone tightens, “Yeah, I know.” He hangs his head low.

You shrug it off with disinterest, your tone indifferent. “What’s up, anyway? What held you from coming?”

He hesitates, glancing down at the patches of bandages and stitches. He doesn’t try to explain. He doesn’t want you to know. What could he say to cover things up? He tries to avoid sounding suspicious with a lighthearted laugh, “It’s nothing.”

God, it sounded fake.

Your indifference rings through his mind over and over again. Did you really not care about him anymore? Did you really mean it when you said you weren’t going to go? A sharp stab in the heart each time the thought rings through him.

A pause.

“Okay. Well, it’s good that you weren’t able to go. I wasn’t there anyway.”

“Oh,” was all Jungwon could respond with, he was beginning to feel dizzy - overwhelmed and exhausted. A sharp buzz rang deaf through his ears.

The room started to spin as you continued through the call – unaware, “I’m not a fool, Jungwon,” you remind him. Was it really the end?

Has he finally lost you?

He doesn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t deny the fact that it hurt. Everything hurts. Fuck. A long pause, “I know.”

“Is that all? I’m gonna go now. I'm busy,” you harshly end things, not bothering to expant the conversation or on the details. You don’t push him. You don’t care.

The line went dead.

A piece of him along with it died too.

Jungwon sits at one of the emergency room’s beds alone and he realizes that the hospital could heal all his physical wounds and scars, but he doesn’t think the internal pain he’s feeling could be treated.

A nurse that was passing by finds him passed out, unconscious, and unresponsive only long minutes later.

A WEEK LATER

Initially, you had planned to keep away from Jungwon at all costs the moment classes started again. He could suffer all he needed.

But.

You don’t see Jungwon.

Not that you cared if he was around - it was a relief to you that you didn’t have to deal with him, but didn’t you .. deserve an explanation?

No.

That’s right. An explanation from Jungwon for ditching you was something you would never get. That hasn’t changed, and you were a fool for believing otherwise.

You repeatedly sneak glances by his desk - anywhere, for a sign of him. It was useless to ask anyone else. His friends? When had Jungwon ever tried talking to somebody that wasn’t you?

Not that you ever took notice, either.

It’s been a week.

Seconds tick by slowly, and lectures drag in what seems like hours. It comes to the point where you almost decide on texting his number and demanding where he was. It took every part of yourself to manage to not do so.

Your notifications remained empty this time.

No messages. No calls.

He’s gone again.

THREE WEEKS LATER [JUNGWON’S POV ]

With a fractured arm and multiple wounds and stitches, Jungwon had to opt to wait three weeks before he was able to attend classes again.

He only looks forward to seeing your face.

To explain everything to you.

He messed up again.

Maybe you were looking for him? It’s been three weeks, maybe you had wondered for a fraction where he went all of a sudden? Maybe you were worried? Maybe you were concerned? Or maybe you didn’t care? Maybe you were celebrating right now?

He flinches that the thought.

He spots you by the hallways after his hour long search around the campus. You barely looked bothered at all. That was fine, Jungwon reminded himself. He walks his way towards you with the gift he had bought you weeks prior, when the accident had happened. The gift he had protected with his life to save, and had held on for weeks to give to you. If he wasn’t going to explain things, he at least wanted to give you the gift he had picked for you.

He thinks you’d look pretty in it.

However, as soon as he tries to open his mouth to speak to you once he was close enough for you to hear him, you coldly ignore him entirely. You pack up your things once you hear the bell, ringing just in time for classes to start. You barely even spare him a single glance.

You walk past him like was invincible.

Like you couldn’t care any less of what happened to him.

It turns out, you were never worried at all.

That fucking him hurt more than being hit by a car a hundred times ever did.

[01:24 pm] yang jungwon: im sorry

[01:29 pm] yang jungwon: can we talk?

[read]

You blocked yang jungwon’s number that day.

[JUNGWON . . . ]

Seoyeon made you laugh.

It was unintentional, he guessed. But she made you laugh. In a way. Other’s might’ve called it a snort. It was a goofy side-comment he made when you expanded the instructions on the chapter needed to be finished. He felt himself destructing and freezing while his heart soared and ripped itself apart. He swore he was flying while being drowned six feet under at the same time.

As someone who spent his entire life on music, Yang Jungwon has heard many sounds. Various melodies and tunes, but none of them were like yours. He’s been walking around tone-deaf for the past few years because it was like he forgot the way your laugh sounded and the way it made him feel like he could do anything.

It was like you immediately regretted it - laughing with him in the room, and maybe his emotions were written all over his face because Jungwon was losing you all over again when you disclose your emotions off once again from him. Then he’s all but greeted with a cold face - an effect of the mess he caused.

He remembers the time where you were his to call, and now, you couldn’t even stand to look at him - or be in the same room as him. He remembers the time where you would look at him and the way your eyes would light up, and now, he looks at your eyes for a fraction of a second and they’re dead. Once vibrant and easy to read - now empty and desolate. Nobody is home. They’re emotionless for him.

Your eyes only tell lies now.

You’ll never be like the way you used to be again.

To think that he ruined it. That he ruined a smile that ran so deep and had so much meaning. A smile that was always for him. A soul that had so much love and kindness for him. He shattered that. That was because of him.

He remembers the time where receiving ‘I love you’s from you were everyday like routines to you, and he compares it with the flash irritation that would cross your face and the petty tone of anger he would get from you every time he tried talking to you.

You’ve changed.

He doesn’t know what those two years have done to you.

What he’s done to you.

Maybe he really messed it up. Maybe he should run and leave and never see you again so he would stop hurting you and fucking you up over and over again. Maybe he should let you move on and let you be happy with someone else. Maybe he should just stop hoping because the gods above know that they don’t trust him with you alone.

It was killing him.

Jungwon couldn’t do any of that.

Getting to see you every day - it was already much of a blessing compared to the two years in the shithole he went through without you, waking up to feel nothing but empty - if it’s not endlessly torturing and tormenting himself for putting you through what he had to.

But couldn’t Jungwon be a little selfish? Just this once? Couldn’t he ask for a little bit more?

If Jungwon could admit, he never wanted much, nor has he asked for much either. To say the truth, he doesn’t care about ninety percent of his life: fuck his gods be damned ‘career’, fuck air and water and happiness and money.

Yang Jungwon was someone that had no interest in the world. He never really got to care about anything. But you. He met you. You were his first. You were all he cared about. You were all that really mattered.

And that was his world.

You were his world.

It’s been two years since he lost you - since he let you go for good, and that was worse than dying. Each moment was as if it was meant to come back at him and break his soul - or whatever’s left of it. All Yang Jungwon gives a damn about is you.

He was damn well still in love with you, and he was never getting you back.

He’s lost you.

And the separating distance between the both of you proves it better than anything.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

THE TWISTING POINT

Jungwon wasn’t in a good mood today.

It was most likely because of work, so you didn’t want to question or pressure him into dwelling into it any further. You stayed smiling, knowing that whenever you were down, Jungwon knew exactly what to do. He needed sunshine.

You hear glass shatter, and loud clanging accompanied with it. You sprang upwards, racing to Jungwon’s aid to check yourself if he was hurt.

As you stared at the mess created, and the person who seemingly intentionally created the mess, you only stood by the doorway.

You knew him, he wasn’t the type to let his anger consume and get the best of him, nor was he the type to physically express his anger. Especially around you. Jungwon loved the idea of you seeing him as a laid-back unique oddball, and you’ve rarely ever seen him irritated or angry. You’ve never seen him like this, however.

You remained silent; your gaze downcast. Whatever happened in the studio today must have been seriously rough enough to affect him into a state like this.

The room is too silent. “Won?” He loves being called that name; he’s told you. It gets him erupting with happiness in no time, but why isn’t it working now?

Why does Jungwon’s eyes look so empty?

“Can you leave?” he asks you when you try to help clean up the broken shards of glass, finally uttering a word after the first time you’ve seen him today.

“I don’t need you here right now.”

Jungwon sees the way you freeze. The way confusion flashes over your face. The way your hopeful and gentle eyes crack by a fraction.

Jungwon sees it all.

You purse your lip in hesitation, worried, but you follow his request with a nod nonetheless as you quietly slip out of the room. I’m always here for you if you need me.

Jungwon feels nothing but emptiness.

“Jungwon, you’ve missed two meals.”

He’s stuck in his music room. Again. Your lips pull into a forming frown at his state, placing the plate of food that you’ve organized for him at a table nearest to you.

He only gives you a glance before his attention is back at his music, “I’m kind of busy here,” he blandly reminds you the obvious, and you feel yourself mentally deflate, a bit.

A pause. You sucked in a breath. “I know, but you shouldn’t skip meals, okay? Take some rests,” you keep your voice gentle, hopeful.

He barely gives a grunt in reply.

Why didn’t you see that he didn’t want you anymore then?

You swallow, trying in another attempt, “Um, do you need any help in -” Jungwon swivels his chair abruptly, turning completely at you. It’s the first time you see him look at you in a while, “No,” the look in his eyes is something you’d never forget, “I’m fine, Y/N.” And when he turns his back on you, you feel a jab in the gut.

Ah.

You get the message.

You weren’t wanted around.

“Okay, I’ll uhh … I’ll …” you don’t finish your sentence, merely signaling that you were going to leave, but well aware that Jungwon was already back facing his screen. You don’t think he notices. You don’t think he ever notices anything at all.

No response. Not even a glance your way.

You felt so lonely.

Jungwon was going out again, as he’s all done for the past week.

Maybe you were overthinking all of this, but you felt as if he was doing whatever it took to avoid you. To avoid looking at you. To avoid talking to you. To avoid spending time with you. Of course, it was all in your head.

He would never hurt you like that, Jungwon was just busy. He was just going through things. He had it rough, you should be considerate.

It was just you alone most of the time, and you started to wonder if he was doing fine. If he needed you, at all.

“Jungwon?”

He turns to you, his body almost out of the door. “Are you okay?” you gently ask him.

He blinks. “I’m fine,” he replies after a pause.

You wanted to help him, whatever he was going through. You wanted to go through it with him together — you wanted to be there for him. “You don’t seem fine,” you try to start, “Jungwon, I’m here for you, you can talk to me if you—”

An exasperated sound of displeasure cuts you off, like a tether piecing everything together that snaps. “Can’t you do anything else other than bother me?” he waves you off, slamming the door in visible distress. He leaves you like that, and he doesn’t have to say anything else to make the wound hurt all the more.

The words left unsaid were enough.

He doesn’t come back the next day.

You wished he’d have told you how he loved you before he left, even if he didn’t mean it.

The air was cold. You know that it was not because of the weather.

Your mind wanders.

Sometimes you consider the fact that there could be someone else.

You wonder where everything started to change, and somedays, the thoughts get heavy and immensely difficult for you to carry. Sometimes they hurt too much to think about. You can’t help but wonder where your love lacked for him, in where you gave him everything. Even if it costed more than you could afford, it was worth it. But was it not for him? Was it not anymore?

It’s hard to fight what was fated.

But you would’ve still ruined yourself to fix him.

Even if there was another person, you think, you just wished he told you - so you would stop foolishly hoping and trying to convince yourself that this was all a sick phase of his that would eventually pass. So, you would stop foolishly assuming that there was ‘together’ and ‘forever’ for the both of you. You wouldn’t insist on it anymore, if that’s what made him happy. Watching him torture himself like that and choosing not to say anything to you was more painful than anything else.

You knew you were not the one in his heart.

This was all going to pass, right?

Jungwon, talk to me.

Jungwon can make it better.

He always has. You could never remember a time where he didn’t come to swoop in and save your day.

Was this the timing in where you realize that things were permanently going to change?

A simple month changes you a lot.

You believed, but you were slowly losing the light.

You gave so many signs.

So many warning signs.

He walked past every single one of them.

You couldn’t be the only one fighting for something that was already gone. Something that was thrown away and given up on. Because you have been, for as long as you can, and you don’t know if you can still continue to allow yourself to put yourself through it - because you don’t know if you can take it. Even if it was just one last time.

But still, you were willing to offer him anything he wanted the moment he needed it. You were ready to run to his side even if it killed you. Waste my time, waste it all.

The painful fake smiles, and pretending if everything was perfectly fine, as if you were okay, and the desperate pair of eyes that he always seemed to ignore.

You don’t know when it would stop.

You could only wish he would stay a bit longer to savor before he was going to make it hurt for you.

You felt the fatigue, then.

It’ll get better soon.

THE BREAKING POINT

It was all about him.

You don’t know if you could take this any longer.

“Jungwon?” you called out to him - through the empty house, “I’m tired.” Faintly.

You were washing the dishes after immediately arriving home from your part-time job. No time for giving yourself a rest, or for catching up on the upcoming exam the next day. It was eleven o’clock at night. You heard the door slam, and you knew Jungwon was home.

He could mope around and throw things around. He was entitled to treat you harshly because he was going through a rough time. He could do absolutely nothing. That was how everything worked.

But you couldn’t. You couldn’t cry. You couldn’t pause and rest. You weren’t entitled to feel angry or irritated because you weren’t going through whatever he was going through. You had to take care of him, and you had to endure getting treated that way our you could leave and walk through the door.

The shuffling of footsteps stops. You don’t move. You leave the faucet water running, eyes staring distantly - somewhere. But you don’t look over at him. You know that the courage that you’ve spent months trying to build up would come crashing down the moment you do.

There is no noise, only the running of the water. You know he’s listening.

“I can’t do it anymore,” you bat an eye, and your shoulders ease up a little. There is a certain stillness in the air.

“I feel like I’m just wasting my life in this relationship,” you’ve thought about this. You’ve tried to shrug the feeling off, but you wanted to know if you wanted to fight for him too. “I’m always looking stupid. I’m always left behind,” Isn’t it exhausting for you too, Jungwon?

Nothing. Silence. No response.

He wasn’t pushing you.

He wasn’t begging you to stay, like he always did.

He wasn’t going to even just try to change your mind.

He’s letting you go.

That infuriates you further, and you hate that he’s making you feel like you’re being too unreasonable without having to say anything. You hate the words he’s saying to you without even him having to open his mouth. Silence is all you’ve been receiving, hasn’t it? It’s always turning his back. It’s always the cold shoulder, whatever he had to say - he wouldn’t say it. It’s always been that way. Itwas always you that had to adjust.

You hated this.

You hated this so much.

It was him leaving you alone to your degrading thoughts that would break you more than he ever can, “It’s all about you. It’s all just about your sufferings, isn’t it? It’s all just yours!”

Why wasn’t he stopping you?

Why wasn’t he trying to fix this?

You wanted him to explain himself and assure you that everything was going to be okay. You wanted to work this out. Good God, you did. More than anything. But what happened to the day when you missed the most important exams for him just because he was too in his head to take care of himself? Where was he? What was he doing? Where was he when you were called to the school’s office because you were nearly falling off school? Where was he when you cried countlessly from overwhelming stress because of that?

Where was he when you were pacing back and forth at four in the morning without a wink of sleep, waiting for him to come back home and wondering to the heavens what the hell had happened to him? Where was he when you felt so isolated and alone? Where was he when your parents turned your back on you for you giving up everything for a boy who already seemed to have given up on you? Where was he to fight for you? Where was he to look you in the eye and give you a reason to keep fighting - to stay?

Jungwon was going through shit. That was something you understood. Something you wished he never went through, something you know he doesn’t deserve. And you were there for him. Every step of the way. But that didn’t mean that you had it all easy, either - did it? Didn’t he know? Or did he just not care?

You wanted to work this out. But … did he?

Soft, too soft. You could barely hear. “So desperate,” it was murmured. A pause, a shift in movement, and he was gone.

He was gone. He walked away. Like it meant nothing to him.

It stays, lingering. But he leaves.

You can’t believe him.

So monotone.

So emotionless.

Like it doesn’t mean anything.

He breaks you.

You crack open.

He doesn’t say anything else. He doesn’t fight for you. He doesn’t feel anything for you. He doesn’t find a reason to stay.

He finds a reason to leave.

That was it. And you weren’t even sure if he said it. Maybe it was a flicker of your imagination. Maybe you were going insane, was what it was. Did he leave?

He couldn’t have.

It was the end.

End.

The end of the both of you.

After that end, there was … nothing.

It was the end?

Your weight leans against the counter table in support, breathing heavily. Your heartbeat racing, your mind processing. A minute passes by, and you still stand frozen.

No. The stillness was too much to handle, you needed Jungwon, even if the only words he was ever going to say to you would hurt. You stumbled, rushing after the door as you tried calling after him. You didn’t want him to go. You couldn’t let him, you won’t give up on him. You needed him there. You were tired, and you needed Jungwon.

“Jungwon.” Where was he off to the moment you finally told him how you were feeling? Was it a mistake? Should you have stayed quiet instead?

“I didn’t mean what I said, come back and we’ll talk this out,” you called after him. You would take it all back.

He was gone.

You turned, and you turned, and you hoped. Nothing. Pitch black. Darkness.

“Jungwon?” you were crying now, crumbling a little. “Jungwon, I’m sorry, please come back, please.” you begged. And you kept calling him, until even the gods above could hear you. But where was he? No, he was going to come back for you. He was.

He was going to explain that he was sorry and that he never meant to hurt you. He was going to pop up right next to you like he always used it. He was going to smile at you with a cheeky grin and make fun of how you fell for his sick joke. He was going to give you a reason to stay and you were going to be okay.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry,” you shouted after him, numbly trying to follow his footsteps that weren’t there. Footsteps that were erased. The footsteps of someone who promised he’d never leave your side. It was pathetic. Your desperation was pathetic.

Where did he go? Which way did he go? Please show up. Please. Please.

You shivered at the cold. Why was it raining so hard? You could barely see a thing. It was too dark. Not a single light in sight. You didn’t even realize it was raining. But it didn’t matter. You wouldn’t go home until Jungwon was back. And safe. Everything will be okay.

Moments pass and you don’t know if it took hours. Jungwon wasn’t there and you were losing him the way you were losing yourself. “Please,” your voice came out a whisper as your legs gave up on you, falling into your knees, “come back to me,” your body shakes, and that was the end.

All you were left with was the memories.

The both of you were nothing but memories now.

Ended because of happenstance.

He was still gone the next day.

And the next.

And the next after the next.

And the week after.

And the month after.

And after that.

You waited.

He promised.

You believed.

Ah.

You felt it, then.

The light you held onto exhaled and took its last breath.

Expired.

When things are expired - when things pass its due date, no matter how much big of a waste it is, or how much you were looking forward for it; you can only throw it away.

Because your relationship wasn’t the only thing gone and lost to disappear that day. It wasn’t only him - or it wasn’t the one thing you cared most about. It was you. You came along with it. You; a simple crumpled worn-out paper thrown away. A rough draft. Scrapped and forgotten.

He wasn’t coming back.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ skin by sabrina carpenter ]

PRESENT TIME, THE FOLLOWING DAY

The group was chatting with each other as usual. You were with Ningning and Seoyeon, catching up with the latest most random topics while you were making it a point to ignore Jungwon’s longing stare. Until Jake Sim takes a glance his way and points out of nowhere, “What happened to your arm?”

He immediately replies, “Nothing.”

When you sneak a glance over at Jungwon’s arm, he catches you and straight away tucks his arm away from your side’s view as casually as possible. Why did he have bandages? Your brows furrowed at him, skeptically surveying him.

What was he hiding this time?

It was in the middle of individual study period when Ningning queries out of nowhere, “Y/N, Is Jungwon trying to win you back?”

A few glances your way at the sudden uplifting noise through the quiet room.

You almost choke. You wish you did. “What?” Loudly whispering, you snap your head over her direction, eyes blazing down at her incredulously.

“He isn’t?” Seoyeon pipes in, questioning incredulously, all the more surprised than you. The both of them were never going to let her newfound discovery of exes that were quote “fated back together” end quote. You stare blankly at the both of them, unamused.

She shrugs innocently. “He looks like it,” she answers her own query and peeks over his way. Explaining, she heaves a casual exhale, “He keeps looking over at you every five seconds with those starry hopeful eyes as if you’d change your mind.”

Your face hardens at the mention of it. You hadn’t told what happened between you and Jungwon to anyone. Once both Seoyeon and Ningning had asked for the details of what happened, you simply brushed it off, not wanting to talk about it. They had assumed something went wrong.

Whatever Seoyeon had in mind to be out of a romantic film - this wasn’t the case. You had no idea what he was up to, but it was most probably something that would put up some entertainment to aid his boredom before he fleets away again.

She playfully nudged you with the edge of her elbow, “So, what made you dump him?”

She laughed. Loud. She was talking quite too casually that you speculated Jungwon could hear the conversation. His head was bowed, supposedly reading. You couldn’t read his facial features. You don’t want to.

“Poor dude, he looks like he’s had it rough.” Of course, everyone would assume it was Jungwon who was dumped. That it was him who was hurting. That it was him who got the mistreatment. You were the bad guy. In the end it’s your fault.

A chill runs down your spine. You dumped him? You almost laugh aloud in sarcasm, but it comes out as a snort. Waving her off teasingly, you motion the both of them to shoo away, “Shove off.”

Seoyeon gives a toothy beam before scribbling something down her notebook, Ningning peeks over to read it and giggles. You barely catch a glimpse of it.

‘Where there is anger, there is always pain underneath.’

LATER, AT THE LIBRARY

Another day. That meant another meeting with both Jungwon and Seoyeon in the library. After long hours, the group meeting was finished. All there was left to do was to submit the chapter’s draft for corrections to the professor; it had been decided already that Seoyeon and Jungwon were to do it.

You were leisurely taking your time packing up your stuff when Seoyeon hurriedly scurries out on her way to exit the library. “Hey, Jungwon, I’m really busy today, so I can’t accompany you to pass the papers. I just realized I have soccer practice,” she forms her lips into a pout, faking a thought. It occurs to you then that Seoyeon doesn’t have varsity.

Your eyes narrow at where this was going. “What about ask Y/N to do it? She has nothing to do anyway!” she winks, lightheartedly hitting Jungwon’s arm. He was taken aback, looking confused and somewhat lost himself, but having no choice left other than nodding, he agrees. “Uh . . . sure.”

Seoyeon turns your way and wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at you as soon as Jungwon had himself distracted with the papers in the meantime, giving you a thumbs up as if to say ‘you can do this!’ before slipping out of the room - faster before you could protest.

You scowled darkly, clenching down your jaw. If looks could kill. That girl.

On the other hand, Jungwon continues to arrange the pile of papers with a shuffle before quietly handing them to you, he then started on packing up his things. It was suffocating. Would leaving the room make it seem like you lost this nonexistent battle between the both of you?

He cuts you out of your trance of thoughts, “You were there that day at the tower, weren’t you?” he asks you out of the blue. He doesn’t even look your way as he stuffs a few books in his bag, and he doesn’t have to give context for you to know what he was referring to. not a look of uncertainty was evident in his eyes, “I know you were.”

Anger starts to boil inside. You have to remind yourself that this is what he wanted. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you casually dismissed.

He inwardly huffs out a breath. “Was it tough for you?” he changes the topic, and you swear it was only a matter of time before he gives you the biggest whiplash.

You were raging with endless anger and fury, yet you keep your face was void of any emotions – standing in front of him as his form blocked your path, stressing you even further. You gripped the strap of your backpack tightly, “Move out of my way, Jungwon.”

“Answer me, first.” he pleads with you. “Was it tough for you, then?”

He doesn’t budge and stubbornly remains rooted to his spot.

You grit your teeth, ripping apart your poorly concealed anger bit by bit. Jungwon didn’t care. He wanted you to feel emotion. Any emotion. Even if it was blinding rage. To scream at him and punch the living lights out of him. It was better than receiving your blank emotionless stare all the time. He couldn’t take it.

He was definitely testing your patience carelessly. Was it tough for you? You laughed humorlessly. A stab to his gut. A knife filled with poison. “I don’t know what you want, but let’s be mature people here. You do whatever hell you’ve been doing the last two years, and I’ll continue do the same. Okay?” you spoke, your tone hostile. You take the folder placed beside him before leaving him there, disinterested.

It wasn’t as simple for you as it has been for him to simply walk the relationship off down the drain.

Not when he promised the world.

Not when you believed him.

Not when he was standing there right in front of you acting as if he didn’t know anything about the shit you had to go through without him. As if he was just innocent. As if he had nothing to do with it. As if he cared. And especially not when he was the one who put you there and left in the first place.

This is what had become of the both of you. Jungwon and you. Worse than strangers, haunted by what’s left of something that was long gone.

All he had to do then was apologize. Actually, he just had to come back, and you would do the apologizing for him. You were always the one who gave in, in the end, anyway.

You would’ve accepted him.

You would’ve even begged for him.

The things you would have done.

None of this would’ve happened.

But.

None of that would work now.

None of that mattered.

It was all too late.

The both of you were just so different now.

LATER

Riki was confusing, truly.

“Didn’t you make fun of me two years ago about how much of a dumbass I was?” you rolled your eyes incredulously at Riki picking at you to how rude you were being to Jungwon, “You hated him, what’s with the change of attitude?” you snort.

Riki shifts his weight, fixing the strap of his bag, “You were a dumbass,” he agrees, pulling a face at you, “and I still hate that guy,” he continues, his expression turning sour at the thought of him, but pauses.

“But you were happy,” he looks over at you deliberately.

A happy dumbass. You could cringe, that was the old you. The desperate old you. Long gone.

You were most definitely not having it, your facial expression hard. “Did you have a head trauma or something? A fever? Are you forgetting the past two years?” you press the back of your hand to his forehead, checking his temperature and warmth for dramatic effect.

He pushes your hand away, “I’m just saying,” he starts, talking to you as if you were a child, “he left, but he’s back, isn’t he?” he throws his hands around for emphasis.

Then he shrugs, like he doesn’t know any better either, “He’s gotta be back for a reason.”

You don’t care. You don’t care what reason he’s back, or whatever he wants from you. “He can’t just come and go as he pleases, idiot,” you forcefully shrug it off, grumbling. “that jerk made his decision that day. He made his bed and now he has to lie in it.”

And Riki gives up on how stubborn you are, “You really do hold grudges, don’t you?” he ruffles your hair up, amused.

Strangling a sound, you kick the back of his leg, but he dodges.

Oops, your eyes slightly widen, anticipating a fall. You lose your balance, nearly tripping - but luckily, Riki notices within a half of a second and catches you before your face plants flat on the ground, hoisting you back to his chest by the grip on your waist.

You were going to laugh at your mistake, your face already breaking into a smile - but your eyes catch someone a few feet away.

You blink. Your smile slowly starts to drop at the sight of him.

Of course, it had to be Yang Jungwon.

For a split second, your shock doesn’t allow your eyes to leave his.

Riki snaps you out of it, releasing you from his grasp and guides you to his side as he slings his arm around your shoulder - like he always does. You’re sure Riki knew well enough and had an idea of how Jungwon looked like. He recognized him straight from the café, and you never questioned how he knew. How were you going to walk out of this one?

Riki doesn’t look at you in confirmation - you have no idea what shit he’s going to pull, but you’re sure as hell it isn’t going to be good.

He nods once in acknowledgement over at Jungwon, but Jungwon pays no mind and choses to ignore him as his eyes flicker onto the arm around you.

Riki notices it.

You don’t know what to do.

“Hey, I’m Riki,” he starts - and for some crazy reason, he sounds as if he was gloating, “who are you?” he throws back casually. Too casually. You would be irritated to talk to him, if you were in his place. The dislike in Jungwon’s features is evident enough. You don’t know what Riki was playing, but he extends his hand out for Jungwon to bro-shake, whatever that could even signify.

A long pause. Jungwon barely glances at it before his attention is back on you, ignoring him beside you as a whole.

“Why are you with him?” he tries to casually question you - as if he was trying to create small talk - his voice is calm - but Jungwon’s eyes never lie. He could never hide anything from it. You knew that look, and you didn’t like it. It made your blood boil. The guts of this self-centered arrogant asshole.

Riki answers in your stead, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to answer. He laughs, throwing his head back a bit, “Oh, don’t mind us,” he curtly replies, “my girl over here ‘s just really clumsy.”

You forgot how much of on asshole Nishimura Riki really is.

Riki effortlessly sighs, openheartedly shrugging as if to say ‘what-can-you-do?’. It was friendly, but you understood the underlying meaning. He was testing him. Picking at him. Provoking him. You wanted to facepalm. Provoking was the only thing he was ever good at, why did you even bother? What was this, some fighting-for-the-alpha-spot werewolf shit?

Nishimura Riki, you asshole!

Jungwon understands the message. A muscle up on his clenched cheek twitches, his eyes slightly narrow. Was he threatened already? You were in a state of disbelief, Riki was barely even doing anything. Seriously. He never changes.

“Why are you with him?” he asks you again, this time his voice comes out somewhat strained in the end. The old Jungwon would’ve probably started a fight right then and there, lacking any sort of composure. Jungwon changed, hasn’t he?

But you have, too.

Riki peeks at you, “Babe? Do you know him?” Confused. Curious. Innocent.

You had to give it to him. Riki was an amazing actor, he could’ve fooled you if you didn’t know any better yourself.

You merely glance at Jungwon, barely a pause before you answer, “No.”

No hesitation in your tone. A ‘no’ as if he was simply a stranger standing before you. Nothing. You observe how your answer hits Jungwon. How the simple word destructs him. You could only watch. Everything was different now. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?

But where was the sense of satisfaction?

You tug at Riki’s arm, “Let’s go, you promised me to bring me home today.”

You leave Jungwon like that. You leave him with the uncomfortable feeling that was bubbling up. Riki is surprised. And confused. You don’t know if he’s still continuing the act when he affectionately waves Jungwon goodbye before immediately following after you.

Yang Jungwon strikes again.

You whacked Riki at the back of his head the moment you were as far from the gods-be-damned-scene and as far from Jungwon as possible, “Idiot!” you hissed, “What the hell was that?”

He rubs the back of his neck soothingly, glaring at you. “You know, just a little ‘thank you’ would suffice.”

“’Thank you’, my ass! I told you to not pull any stupid shit!” You threaten to hit him again, vexed at the stunt he pulled. The situation was only going to get worse from there and you couldn’t take back anything at this point. You retreated your arm, groaning in horror of what’s to come.

“The moment called for it!” was his only excuse.

You scowled at him, as if your eyes could annihilate him at the spot.

You got Jungwon, you had to admit. A few more of these blows and he would leave your sights. This was a bad idea, but your mind didn’t seem to pay any care.

Hurt him.

Right then and there, your ego allows Riki to participate in whatever crazy-sick game this was. You just needed Jungwon far away.

Riki smirks at you and flashes you a winning smile. He knows you’ve agreed to his idea without having to say anything else. You had no other option, either way.

“You won’t regret this, ___. It’ll be fun!” he singsongs, draping his arm around you.

It’ll be fun, you echoed.

You’ve been lying to yourself for two years, what’s a couple days more to you?

THE NEXT DAY

Jungwon finds you asleep, leaning your head on the desk with your cheek pressed up against the table.

And Nishimura Riki was by your side, reading gleefully. Mostly watching you sleep. A fucking weirdo, Jungwon inwardly comments. His stomach turns at the sight. His mood has already dried.

He stands there for what seems like a torture of infinity before Riki sees him there. He just grins at him. Jungwon would want to do nothing more but throttle him and that shit-eating look off his face.

“Here for the thesis paper?” was all he asks, he starts collecting himself and his things, preparing to leave, thankfully, Jungwon praises.

But when Riki decides to act like the biggest fucker to piss him off all the more when he leans in to gently tuck back the hair covering your face as as you sleep, Jungwon defensively takes a step forward to you by instinct, ready with a handful of swear words.

Riki notices it, and only press his index finger on his lips, indicating to keep his voice down. Jungwon’s jaw slightly ticks as he stays in place - not risking your sleep.

He pats Jungwon’s shoulder on his way out, but he stops by the door. He motions him closer, as if he were to tell him something hugely important. Jungwon presses his lips into a thin line, walking up to him and trying to keep it as civil as possible.

He holds up a finger, as if to gesture ‘and-one-more-thing’, “Oh, and tell her to keep the hoodie she’s wearing, will you?”

Jungwon raises both brows in question, and instantly regrets it.

Riki further explains himself, "She likes stealing them from me. God knows she has a whole rack of them on her closet.” He shrugs, a growing smirk on his face. “But eh, I like it on her, it suits her better.”

That little shit.

He was about to give him a phony nod and thumbs up to let the whole agitating conversation over with when Riki presses his luck even further, “She’s pretty.”

God. Jungwon’s patience was running thin, his jaw flexes.

“Oh, and tell her -”

Jungwon nearly slams the door on his face.

He wondered what you saw in that guy.

Walking back with his hands stuffed in his pockets - something he does when he was definitely pissed off, he yanks a chair, face displaying irritation at its finest when he arrives back at your table. He doesn’t bother to spare you a glance your way, he knows you too well.

“I know you’re awake,” he says out of nowhere, his voice tight. “Stop pretending.”

It takes several moments before you start faking a yawn. You could easily fool anyone, but sadly for you, he knows you too well. His glance is blank as you outstretch your arms as if you had just woke up, you greet him as if you hadn’t expected to see him there, “Oh . . hey.”

Jungwon had already looked sour from his encounter with Riki, his pissed off gaze averts away from yours. A muscle from his jaw ticks as he huffs, “Your boyfriend left.”

You nod, blinking as if you were slowly trying to register everything. Jungwon wanted to ask you a flood of questions: what was he doing here? Were you already awake when he was being a creep and staring at you while you were ‘asleep’? Why are you wearing his hoodie -? “Okay.”

That aggravates him even more, and his tone turns curt and strained. “I’m going to work on the thesis. You do whatever.” he dismisses you, heaving a short breath.

He stalks off, but not before grimacing at your outfit up and down - more than fumingly horrified, spitting out through gritted teeth, “And take off that hoodie. It looks horrible on you.”

THE WEEK AFTER

You wake up in Monday morning with aching pins and needles, not being able to move an inch of your body. Your eyelids were too heavy to keep open, weighing tons of your effort.

Of all days, you were sick.

Lord.

Releasing a cough, your hand reaches for your ringing phone. Riki, the contact label name displayed. You try to clear your throat as you answer the call, in effort to not sound as sick as possible. “Hello?” your groggy and hoarse voice could be depicted from miles away by a total stranger. Much less Nishimura Riki.

“Princess?” His voice answers through the call, perceptibly worried, “what’s wrong? You sound . . . off today.” You could tell he was squinting as he said this.

“Uh. . .” you sniffed, trying to come up of a lie, “just watched a sad film. Cried a lot.”

Riki hums, giving no humor in his voice. “Mhm. And that’s why you’re late four hours to class?”

Your stomach lurches. You were what? You had classes today, and you didn’t even remember. Were you missing on anything important in university today? Shit.

Racing for the most reasonable excuse, “I wanted to . . . enjoy a day off?” Bad liar. You were nothing but a bad liar. You were too exhausted to create a better and more creative lie.

Riki, being way too observant on things he shouldn’t be, clearly wasn’t buying it. He clicks his tongue. “I’m coming over. Don’t go anywhere. Stay in bed,” he orders you shortly before ending the call. He doesn’t scold you or lecture you, and he leaves it at that.

You moan at the surge of pain once again located in your stomach, you had no plans of leaving the bed even if you wanted to anyway, given your current state.

Riki texts you that he was outside around less than ten minutes later.

If you could complain, you’d rather have Riki come in your room to help you up. Like he always did. You found him not doing so rather odd, as he would always make the weirdest reasons to come drop by your house. Moving the slightest inch was hard as it already was.

It takes you what seems like hours for you to get out of bed, and even more for you to bag your bag and head outside. You were ready to grumble about how efficient and less painful this would’ve been if Riki had come to help you until more than one figure greets you outside your yard.

Riki and . . . hands stuffed to his pockets, head bowed - you know that side profile -Yang Jungwon?

Both stayed at opposite ends, standing in front of their cars, awaiting for you with the hardest glares sent the other’s way. What was happening? Jungwon was most likely the reason Riki wasn’t able to go inside your house to pick you up. That was the only factor that made sense - the rest was something you couldn’t connect the dots of.

Both their cars parked out of your house, and you could feel the tension slicing you in half the moment you step foot outside. These two could never stay in the same room, sticking around to wait for you was strictly meant for you.

Jungwon is the first to break the glaring match as soon as he sees you, being the first to approach you while gently holding you up.

“Love, are you okay? Let me bring you to the hospital - come on,” he pleads with you, gesturing towards his car.

“This isn’t the time to joke about something like this in her state,” Riki forces a fake smile through his gritted teeth, irritated as he sneaks his arm around your waist, holding you up himself all the better with a single hand, “just so you know.”

Jungwon’s gaze darkens, “It isn’t about fighting for who gets her, just so you know,” he mimics, “I don’t trust her with you, you dipshit.”

Riki scoffs to himself, shifting his weight as he continues to press you tightly against him, not budging an inch of you to Jungwon, “And look who came to talk.”

Jungwon opens his mouth, his eyes ruthlessly set on Riki’s before you try and weakly cut in from your lack of energy. However, your weak knees give up on you and you almost stumble down, not before both Jungwon and Riki reaches out their hand to grab your arm within half a second. Riki half-yells your name, all the more uneasy and concerned than you were.

“Y/N? Love? Are you okay?” Jungwon’s hostile tone towards Riki not seconds ago immediately dissipates, conveying his tone of worry and panic at your weak state.

“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Jungwon additionally suggests, trying to have you lean his weight on him for you to stand property, and in that way he could easily carry you back to his car.

“Hell no,” Riki growls, in the other hand.

You notice Jungwon’s eyes darken at the corner of your eye, “And who exactly are you to her to begin with-?”

“Her boyfriend, nice to meet you, you dipshit,” Riki retorts.

Jungwon lets out a low noise, pissed off at a topic that was seemingly sensitive to him. “Over my dead body would you ever be her boyfriend.”

He rolls his eyes in disinterest. “Still going through the stages of grief? Is this the denial stage?” he taunts, clicking his tongue with a tsk.

“Bo,” Jungwon calls you - candidly ignoring Riki’s shitty statements, but his sharp eyes never leave Riki’s, “let’s get this over with and tell us who would you want to -”

This was getting too prolonged, you were so close to vomiting again. You definitely did not want to vomit here of all places. “Riki,” you called out faintly, interrupting Jungwon, “please take me to the hospital.”

All parts of your body ached painfully, and you were too miserably ill to deal with this situation. You imagine Jungwon’s expression crumbling, deflating.

Riki straightens, visibly surprised, but he doesn’t hesitate. Not before giving Jungwon a final look, he carries you with you gently, making sure you were watching your step as the both of you left the defeated Jungwon without another word.

You were too weak to look back at Jungwon – he helplessly stares after the sight of his girl - his girl - being taken away from him when she needed help the most.

Again.

You spend three days in the hospital for a diagnosed viral infection.

Thankfully but not surprisingly, Riki stayed by your side through every minute, only leaving for a shower, buying take-out, and for getting you new packs of clothes. It was Ningning and Seoyeon who came over to take care of you during Riki’s leave.

He sticked around from the moment you were submitted, to the insertion of the IV, through your countless trips to the bathroom to puke and for him to hold your hair back, and through your dischargement.

The both of you were on your way to the car to load your things. Riki had all of his hands filled. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot, thanks for the wanton noodles,” you mention immediately as soon as you remembered, “How d’you know they were my favorite?” You don’t recall ever brining it up to Riki.

Instead of bursting up his signature winning smirk, Riki furrows his brows at you, “Wanton noodles? What wanton noodles?”

You perked up a brow, “The one you left by the door earlier when you were paying the discharge bills?”

Riki had nothing. He blinks at you as if you had been hallucinating. “Why would I leave food by the door?” he shakes his head, “Doll, what in the hell are you talking about?”

“The wanton noodles that you –“ You stop mid-sentence, freezing. Realization dawns on you then. The note, you recall as you piece things back together.

Stop skipping meals. I got you your favorite. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me.

Yang Jungwon.

There was no name from who it was from, you had simply assumed it was from Riki. This wasn’t your first time realizing that Jungwon had never dropped by, you had simply figured he didn’t care. Your stomach sinks, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me’. The double implications.

Riki waves his hand in front of your face, “Earth to princess? Hello?”

Ah. Right. You blink, shaking your head – you meet his eyes with a smile, “Nothing. I just thought I remembered something.”

WEEKS LATER

Jungwon was a lot quieter than usual ever since you’d been discharged.

Since . . . the night he and Riki were there. You slightly wince at the memory.

You almost managed to successfully spend a thesis discussion with him without having to say much - to your great pleasure - until he just had to ruin it for you. He was filling in his part for the thesis paper while you were scanning through the pages of the book you were reading, skipping to the ending.

“Hey,” he starts, humor laced in his voice. “D’you still read the endings of books like you used to? I remember –“

Your head snaps up. You don’t smile. You don’t flush red in embarrassment. You don’t laugh like the way he’d expected you to. The way you always did. You stared harshly down to his eyes. It wasn’t the heart-fluttering kind - nor was it the passionate or the fierce or the loving kind of stare. No, it was a heart-piercing glare - so full of pure hatred, the kind that had his breath hitching up his throat in the worst way possible and his heart sinking into your stomach.

“Don’t.”

Ah.

No double meanings. Nothing else. The essence couldn’t be taken as a mere mistakable, conveyed with just one simple word that held the heaviest weight, yet it was enough for him to understand. He doesn't try to catch himself or his smile as it fades - along with the antagonizing agony that accompanied it.

The light in your eyes has gone.

They were so dark.

It doesn’t shine the way it used to.

He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. He struggles. It takes him two more tries. Two more times of you opening and closing his mouth for him to finally unknot his tongue and drag the words to the surface.

“You have a …” he hesitates to say it, “boyfriend?”

It was so close. A few seconds until you would leave, and he just could wait. Stuffing your university belongings back into your bag, you exhaled, your lips tightening into a hard line. “What is it to you?”

A second or two passes, “Oh,” he replies, “I didn’t know, so -”

“What difference does it make?” you rhetorically question him, your patience running thin, “if you didn’t know or if you did?” You were being absurd - you knew that, but you wanted anything but the idea of having to talk about that subject with him and act like it was fine.

Being snappy at him wasn’t the greatest idea, but you know Jungwon was trying to get at somewhere. You would do whatever it took to defy him. That quiets him down, only forcing a painful nod.

You needed to leave. You couldn’t stay away from him, especially whenever he was near. God knows only a few words from Jungwon would be all it would take for him to manipulate you back into his strings.

Painful silence.

Until, “Does he make you happy?”

You find yourself freezing.

A sick feeling in your stomach.

Does he make you happy?

Happy.

Why was he asking the question like he meant it?

Your eyes flicker his way, and there is no hint of humor or taunting mock in his face. Was he serious? The man who broke you to pieces and disregarded you stood before you and asked if another man was making you happy, as if he cared. As if he ever did.

You don’t say anything.

You don’t have anything to say.

Jungwon knows that.

You try to breathe.

One.

Two.

Three.

You walk away, and he lets you. You walk away because walking away was the only thing you’ve ever done. Because walking away was the only thing you could ever do around him. Because you can’t risk another goodbye from him.

You were done gnawing back at the past.

[ now playing ◃◃ ⅠⅠ ▹▹ spring day by bts ]

↻ … ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ

AFTER THE BREAK-UP

And the both of you became back to being nothing.

Just like that.

You told him your secrets, and you let him in. All the good, all the bad. You trusted him and brought down your defenses. You let him know your weird thoughts or funny inside jokes and the deep insecurities.

But he never got to know the little things, you realize the moment it’s over. The little things that infuriated you. The little things that made you laugh. Or the little things that would always put you on a better mood - the little bits and pieces of you.

You barely got to know him at all.

Was that the reason?

Was the fact of loving him just as plainly as that - nothing more, and nothing less - the root of it all?

Or was it just the big things that held the both of you together, and the small things that caused you to fall apart?

You don’t believe it’s over.

Because it’s not.

You’ve been stuck inside the house for longer than you could count. You’ve memorized the number of tiles on the floor and seen every miniscule crack on the wall. You know how many steps it takes to walk from here to the door.

And you know just how many steps Jungwon took to leave.

Your eyes remained fixated on the door, waiting at the dining table for him to come home.

Like every other day.

He was still finding his way back home, you reminded yourself.

Busy. He’s busy.

Tick-tock.

He’s on his way.

He'll come back. He always does. He promised.

You form hundreds of thousands of excuses for him.

But the door doesn’t swing open to reveal Jungwon in all form and glory beaming down at you, apologizing, telling you that it was a mistake, telling you that he didn’t mean it. Every day is the same.

But nothing.

Nothing.

Riki knows it’s one of your days.

He reaches for your hand to grab and the fact that you have no response alone proves his assumption even further.

He doesn’t mind, Riki decides to walk you home.

You have those days where you go completely silent. Worse than ever. So quiet that he could never guess what you’re thinking or if you’d ever come back from it. Eyes empty as if there was no one home. He doesn’t know how he could help you specifically, how he could make you snap out of it.

The only thing he can do is talk. Talk and talk and talk and talk. He talks for hours about anything on the top of his head, and Riki himself is surprised he could somehow manage to not run out of topics to tell you about.

Even if you don’t respond. Not even a flicker of recognition to any of his comments or jokes.

Riki never knows what you’re thinking.

But this time, that day, he knows it’s about Jungwon.

Someone asked you about Jungwon today. How he was doing, where he is, and what happened to him. As hard as Riki would shield you away from situations such as these, it wasn’t hard enough.

Riki was so close to making you smile the other day. He was finally doing it.

And then he’s back again to square one.

After his efforts of trying to get your attention by the food stalls the both of you passed by, Riki starts to go quiet.

There is no noise - nothing between the two of yoou. Only the rustling of leaves. The cool breeze of air. The sound of footsteps on cobblestone. Cars driving by. Indistinct chatters.

“Why are you still holding on?” quietly. So quietly, but you easily catch on Riki’s question. Then your hands slightly tremble.

You don’t answer him, you’re afraid of saying too much. You’re afraid.

He never said goodbye.

That was your reason.

He never said goodbye.

Jungwon always bids you goodbye, you’d explain to Riki if you could.

What makes this time any different, right?

He won’t leave without saying goodbye. He wouldn’t. Only you could understand.

He never said goodbye.

A part of you still believed that meant he was coming back.

When Riki tries dropping by like any other day - a sneaky reason to check on you, from the start of early morning, he sees you there.

You spend the whole day stuck in the kitchen.

Riki knows what day it was without having to ask.

By the evening, you bring out the cake that you’ve been preparing for and set it down the table, in front of an empty chair. The chair you never let anyone sit on. It’s still belonged to someone else.

Riki knows who it’s for.

Your eyes are distant, as if they were caught up in a dream. Light. You were there - physically, but you were far away. Far, far away. Riki started to wonder if this was just how you were. He wondered if there was ever a time where you were really alive.

He wondered the extent to how much this guy did to break you.

Your eyes looked so empty.

But you were still holding on, weren’t you? You’ve never responded to him, but he knew. Riki made no noise, but he clenches his hands into fists. You don’t acknowledge him standing there.

You set the candles down the cake with the lighter.

You only stare at the cake, expectantly. Waiting. Waiting for someone to blow the candles off. Waiting to sing the cheerful ‘happy birthday’ song and make a wish. But it wasn’t just anyone.

He doesn’t attempt to do anything - or say anything. But he stands near close to your proximity. Watching over. Silently. He doesn’t leave you that day.

You take a seat next to the empty chair, simply and patiently letting time pass as your eyes affixed themselves with the dancing fire.

Until the candles blow out themselves hours later from the cold air.

That night, Riki also knew who it was for when he heard your uncontrolled crying and broken whimpers pass from your room for the first time.

There was a period wherein you stopped leaving the house entirely. And Riki stopped pushing you to.

Everything reminds you of him.

The house has never felt so big.

Alone.

You miss the way he smells.

The overbearing feelings starts to compress, and you feel it expanding within your chest. It gets hard to breathe. You feel helpless.

Jungwon won’t like it if he sees you like this, wouldn’t he?

You keep reminding yourself.

He might come in any second, and you wanted to be at your best.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry.

You won’t cry.

You’d make it up to him.

You don’t want it to end.

He’ll come back.

You don’t know how many months it has been.

That’s a lie. You do.

You find one of the notes he wrote for you in an old shoe box.

It reminds you that what you had was real, that what you had wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It wasn’t a dream.

You picked up the first letter, your fingers tracing through his handwriting.

It was painful. A shard of glass piercing through your skin.

To my one and only girl,

You couldn’t breathe.

It was merely the first line of the long letter, and you couldn’t breathe.

This time, you don’t pretend to forget that you aren’t Jungwon’s anymore. You don’t pretend that this was all a phase. A nightmare. A joke.

This time, you don’t pretend to wait at the living room for him to come back home, swinging the door open with a grin and greeting you from a long day like he used to. Not anymore. Even if you had so much to tell him. So much news to show off to him. So much news to be happy for. To celebrate. But you weren’t.

This time, you almost suffocate.

You torture yourself even more this time. You open the letter again and it rips your heart out. It stabs you and leaves you bleeding. You read the last line. Sealed with a promise. A broken promise that meant nothing now.

I’ll make you the happiest girl, I promise. I love you :)

You could imagine his cheeky smile as he wrote this, sealing the promise - among with every other one that he’s made. Every single one that he didn’t claim responsibility for.

Liar.

He was a liar.

He was reckless and a liar.

He broke you to the point where you couldn’t even manage to bring yourself to say his name.

You wish you were brave enough.

What a fool you were.

A dumb, useless fool.

“Kant’s metaphysics?” Riki answers, lying on the edge of your bed. He lounges carelessly with a review paper clutched on his left hand.

You rest a hand on your hip, pacing around your room. “No, but you’re somewhat close. It’s categorical imperative.” You corrected, recalling your philosophy lesson by memory through mentally singing a tune to yourself.

The philosophy oral examination was this coming Thursday that next week. It was Saturday. Riki complained, saying he needed help and tutoring, and you, other than staying cooped up at home debating your life choices and burying yourself in academics, there wasn’t really anything else you did.

He squints his eyes in confusion, “But how does that relate to the second follow up question after that?” you pause, staring hard at the desk beside you to remember the answer, you take minutes - but nothing.

You run a hand through your hair, visibly frustrated and stressed. You had all the more topics to go through. Hell, you had to go through the whole book and you couldn’t get past the second lesson yet.

Releasing an exhale, you shut your eyes tightly. Shit. Shit.

Jungwon always knew what to do. He knew how to calm you down and rile you up and make you laugh right after like he was born with it. He’d drop everything at the sight of you overthinking and over-stressing school work, embracing you and telling you that you didn’t have to worry. That he was there. He’d let you cry it out, vent out your frustration and stay by your side through it all, running a hand through your hair soothingly to comfort you.

He knew exactly how to take care of you.

You need him.

You needed him.

Just for this moment.

How much longer?

Biting down your lower lip forcefully, you chant the words over and over again.

He’s not coming back.

You know he’s not coming back.

You know.

You’re back to pacing across your room, back and fourth. ‘”I don’t know, I really -” you cut yourself off, irritated. At this point, you’re ready to erupt from the heavy weight of his absence. At this point, you want to drop to the floor and stop time to give yourself a breath.

Riki has sat up at this point, silently watching you. He’s probably either thinking that you were worrying and stressing over the amount of workload given to you like the usual. Or, does he know that academics isn’t what you were worrying about at all at that moment?

You try to level your breathing.

Come back.

Jungwon, please.

Come back to me.

To: won 😚🙄

[03:46am] you: hi i’m graduating this wednesday. i’d really like it if you could drop by.

error. message undelivered. try again?

[03:50am] you: hey did you know my graduation is nearing?? haha you should come :)

error. message undelivered. try again?

[05:18am] you: jungwon

[05:18am] you: are you there?

[05:19am] you: you’re gone and i really need you.

message sent.

do you want to delete this message?

message successfully deleted.

Contact user: [ENTER]

Contact: yang jungwon

by pressing [Confirm] you are allowing the name changes to be saved.

changes saved.

“The sun’s so clear out. Lighten up, princess ~” a voice calls you out of your thoughts and you realize you were trapped in a dream.

Identifying reality with dreams seemed entirely difficult to you. There was something fiction in the way reality was going to you.

Reality was as crazy as dreams were.

“Your moping is bad for my skin,” Riki comments lightheartedly, scrunching up his nose.

It’s been a week or so since he came along. Since he bumped into you and started to grow interest towards you. You don’t ask him, and you don’t really care. Nothing that every happens around you matters to you as much anymore.

You only blink in regard to him. That was more than a sign of acknowledging his presence that he was used to.

Riki is used to this. He doesn’t mid this type of behavior, nor did he expect anything else. He self-proclaimed himself as your guardian angel – two days after he’d met you – who’d look after you “since you lack the ability to look after yourself” end quote. Which was true. You couldn’t look after yourself. Especially due to the past circumstances that he pieced together himself.

You were probably someone’s ex-girlfriend.

To him, Y/N was a detached-from-reality schoolmate of his who was definitely more than what meets the eye.

You were someone he wanted to get to know, until you stopped becoming that person, one day.

Until you became someone he wanted to protect.

Sliding himself into the seat next to yours, he pouts at you. “Y’know . . . I think it’s time for you to . . move on,” he struggles finding the right word for it. You know it takes a lot in him to try and be gentle, as he probably would’ve been teasing you with a bunch of insults.

Your throat encloses, and you feel like burning up.

Moving on meant accepting that he was gone. Gone from your life. Accepting a future without him, and that wasn’t something you were ever going to be ready to do.

He was long gone.

Jungwon was long gone.

The magic you once felt with him wasn’t there anymore.

He wasn’t there anymore.

And neither were you.

Waiting for someone is painful.

Letting go from someone is painful, too.

But not knowing whether to wait for someone or let him go?

It hurts more than anything.

You were out inside the bathroom for the first time in hours since you’ve left your seat from blankly staring at your phone.

It was all pure coincidence when Nishimura Rik stumbles upon the open phone screen that you’ve been torturing yourself endlessly with.

It was all pure coincidence.

And coincidence just happened to align with his curiosity.

you: S.O.S. [7 hours ago]

you: come back [7 hours ago]

[Read]

Riki doesn’t have to read the contact name to see who it was.

It must be Riki’s professional job; being the only one around able to spot where you are when you suddenly disappear from the face of the earth.

“Princess?” Riki finally finds you along the benches, alone. He figures it weird, he’s not exactly sure what you were doing there exactly.

Until he sees your face. Your tear-stained cheeks.

Ah.

“It hurts.” Out of nowhere. He has never prepared himself for this. Your voice cracks a bit, “Riki, it hurts.” You plead with him as if he power to take it all away. Small. Helpless. That was what you sounded like.

He offers his open arms to you, and you bury yourself in them. He lifts you up from the darkness, even if it was just by a centimeter.

“I’m in so much pain, can you stop it?” you tell him in a managed whisper, your voice hoarse.

He’s afraid anything he’d say would only break you even further. He only hugs you tighter.

Fuck, why did he give too many shits about you? This wasn’t the least like him at all. What in the world have you managed to do to Nishimura Riki? He stares at you, not being able to do anything.

“Why does it hurt so much?” a small vulnerable child whimpering in pain – pain they were forced to believe was their fault. That was how you sounded.

He doesn’t know what to say. He’s frozen, in fact. “Riki I want to –“ you pause, trying to start again, “I’m tired,” you struggle with your words, your eyes closed shut, “Please make it stop.”

His eyes flicker.

Please make it stop.

Riki isn’t much of a person who really cared about anyone else’s business. He never poked his nose around because he never bothered enough to. Everyone was black and white to him.

You were a quite peculiar one to him, though. It drove him crazy, what was so good about you? You were clearly dead hungover your past ex. Barely talked. Barely did anything, at all.

But he saw the most beautiful and vibrant colors when he looked at you in the whole life that he’s been walking around colorblind to any other.

He was just being pulled down deeper.

For the first time, all Riki wanted from someone was just their happiness. Purely. Passionately. Their happiness for his happiness. He just wanted you . . .

He just wanted you.

Nishimura Riki is done for.

If this was what he thinks it is, he’s done for. Because Riki was ready to be anyone you wanted him to be.

You gave be something I’ve never had, he wants to tell you. And I have nothing special to give you - but I will give you everything I have.

He doesn’t break promises. Especially if it’s you.

Riki will mend what was broken.

Whatever it takes.

One step at a time.

He was getting himself into the biggest mistake in his life, God, he sure as hell knew that. But Riki was never going to regret what was to come.

He was going to make it stop. All of it.

… ᵉⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵃˢʰᵇᵃᶜᵏ ↺

PART TWO

3K notes · View notes

bonkhrnyjail · 3 months

Text

sweet plum | chapter four

masterlist | pinterest board | spotify playlist

pairing: pedro pascal x fem!reader (plus size)

rating: mature (will become explicit in the future)

warnings: mentions of alcohol/drinking, mild mentions of weight discrimination

summary: a late night facetime turns into a midnight adventure

a/n: well shit yall. thank you for all the love on what i've posted so far. the validation is like crack for my stupid little dopamine deficiency. and strap in for a slow burn. also, i want to note, you definitely don't have to live in a bigger body to enjoy this story. give it a try if you're on the fence. <3

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“Leave me alone,” you whine at Bella, their shrill laughter crackling from your shit-quality phone speakers.

They continue to poke fun at you for watching Bridgerton for the fourth time in the past few months. Work has been painfully slow, and you have to wait until after the premiere to take on any other big projects. With your NDA, you can't exactly put the best job you've ever booked on your resume until the show is aired.

You continue to defend yourself, huffy and stern, glaring at them through your camera lens.

“I love a slow burn romance… it’s not my fault.”

“I know you do,” Bella mumbles in a somewhat accusatory tone, chuckling to themselves with a shake of their head.

“Excuse me?” you question, a palpable underlying meaning to the statement clear as day. "That felt pointed."

“Pfft, it's nothing,” they quip with a jovial eye roll.

“No, no, please. Enlighten me.” you playfully push, somewhat perplexed by their vagueness.

“I mean… you—”

Bella gets cut off by the familiar notification sound of someone joining the call.

Pedro’s face appears massive on the screen, his head propped up against a pillow on his green leather couch. His hair is completely disheveled, sticking straight to the heavens on the left side. He smiles, beamingly, the majority of his pearly teeth on vivid display.

“So this is what happens when I don’t see you for a few months," you jest.

“Got drunk, slept face first on the couch. I just woke up,” he explains, his voice cloaked in a thick rasp, clearly still acclimating to his consciousness. “But you’re right regardless. I am a bed-headed disaster without you.”

A fantasy floats into your head, you helping him tame his unruly mane in the morning, planting soft kisses along his forehead with every huffy groan, denying every whine and protest to return with you to the bed.

“You need to hire her as a live-in,” Bella jeers, “It’s really… really bad.”

The three of you chat for a while, weaving in and out of conversation topics with lubricious ease. Embarrassing moments, family memories, recalling inside jokes from your days in Canada, the leisure of it reminds you of how effortless it is with them. Your incessant laughter burns your stomach as tears prick the corner of your eyes.

“One time, my mum and I went to a dairy farm and the baby calves would not stop sucking on my fingers,” Bella recounts, wiping the tears from their eyes. “I tried to put my hands in my pockets but they started going for the pockets too. I eventually had to run away and they kept trying to chase me.”

“That sounds like a dream! I'd love to go to a dairy farm,” you exclaim, puppy-eyed with a gentle pout. “Cows are my favorite animal, you know.”

“Let's go to a dairy farm then,” Pedro blurts in.

You scoff, taken aback by his offer.

“With your schedule? Please.”

“Oh hush, I’ll always make time for you.”

Your breath hitches.

He'll always make time for you?

The call falls silent for a moment, your mouth falling open as you process the sentiment. You examine his expression, sincere and warm and ever-so-slightly bashful, and the sight of it sends blood rushing to the apples of your cheeks.

Bella’s eyes widen as their lips curl inward, cheeks blowing out to stifle a giggle.

“Alright! Well… I gotta go... early day tomorrow. I love you both!”

They blow a kiss to each of you and disconnect from the call before you can say goodbye.

An uncomfortable air of silence hangs between the two of you, still heavy and unnerving despite the miles separating you. You chuckle to yourself on instinct, just to create some sort of noise to cut through the tension.

“Are you still drunk?” you inquire.

It’s heavily rumored that Pedro is an obvious flirt under the influence. You’ve heard the stories of him, teasing and lightheartedly flirting with the cast and crew after a couple of drinks. Stupid, corny comments and lots of touching with no clear intent behind it. Maybe that's what he's doing, maybe it's just an offhand sentiment, a product of his lingering intoxication.

“I don’t know… I don’t think so. But I did drink almost an entire bottle of wine, and that was only 6 or so hours ago.” He runs a hand through his scraggly, unkempt curls. “Why?”

The compiling list of questions run circles in your head as you attempt to formulate some kind of comprehensible answer.

“I suppose… well... I was just…” you fumble, picking at your already tattered cuticles. “I guess I just want to…. Were you serious?”

“About what? Taking you to a farm?”

A half smile slowly appears on the left side of his lips, an expression of an almost amusement. Heat races to your cheeks in an instant.

“Of course I was," he responds, nonchalantly but with a genuine earnest. “I really like being with you. Farm or otherwise. Drunk or sober.”

A wave of goosebumps erupts across your skin like a forest fire. You instinctively clench your fists to bear through the surging sensation in your chest, the feeling somehow distressing and euphoric at the same time.

You decide to play along, push a little further, despite your better judgment.

“So, if you could choose anywhere to take me, where would we go?”

You lay your head back on the pillow behind you and hold the phone high above your head. The senseless part of you carefully angles a peek of cleavage in the bottom left corner, just enough to hopefully warrant a quick glance.

And glance he does.

Not once, but twice. The first one is almost instinctual, like a natural reaction to something new and foreign coming into his line of sight. You see his eyes widen slightly and immediately dart back up to meet your gaze. He smiles, a nervous smile, and reaches a hand up to run his thumb along the wiry salt and pepper of his jaw.

Now, the second glance is definitely intentional. As his eyes lower, his smile falls into slightly parted lips. It’s akin to gawking, the way his eyebrows raise and his pupils explode. You watch as his fingers curl and press deep into his jawline as he takes a small portion of his lower lip into his teeth and bites.

Seconds pass, achingly slow, and he seems to be entirely elsewhere.

Suddenly his body jolts and his eyes return to yours once more, a flustered pink painting his cheeks. You can feel a prickly heat spreading down your neck and across your chest, a plethora of contradicting thoughts and feelings bouncing rapidly in your head.

"Well, it’s hard to pick just one," his thick fingers lay flat against his cheekbone as he ponders. "There’s quite a few I’ve thought of showing you.”

You curl your toes as another surge of anxious excitement obliterates your nervous system.

“Well, how about a top three then?"

After about ten seconds of deep pondering, his eyes light up.

“There’s this juice place that I’ve been really liking. They have a fruit juice with plum in it, it made me think of you. I bet you’d like it.”

You ball the sheet beneath your hand into your fist, your knuckles surely painted white with the sheer force of it. The thought of him… thinking about you, wanting you to be there with him, makes you ache with pure adoration. You’ve had daydreams like that hundreds of times, trips for coffee or takeout, holding hands, sharing the little things, weaving your way into each other's lives.

“I definitely want to take you to my favorite deli in New York. I still can’t believe you’ve never had a fuckin’ bagel sandwich. That’s just… just wrong.”

The memory floats into your mind; The gasp that left his mouth when you told him was damn near cartoonish. He lectured you for at least five minutes straight as you tried not to laugh, your lips pressed tightly together, tears welling at the corners of your eyes.

“And definitely Spain. I just feel like you’d blossom there. It’d be beautiful to see. Plus, I miss it. If it weren’t for work I’d stay there forever.”

The statement hangs in the air for a bit, not in a stale and brooding way, but more like a wispy cloud passing between you. Your mind goes still and is washed clean with a warm, velvet enchantment.

All of your useless anxieties melt under the gentle heat of his unwavering gaze, his words so tender, so utterly astonishing to hear from the mouth of a man. It’s often hard to believe that he’s real, like somehow everything you’ve ever wanted in a lover and friend came wrapped up in the Adonis masterpiece that is him.

The profound worry that plagues you, incessant since the day that the already precarious line between friends and lovers have been blurred, is really just a deep-rooted fear. Fear that you’ll lose him, fear that things will change, an irrevocable leap could irreversibly damage one of the most meaningful connections you’ve ever experienced. If you could just know what he is thinking, exactly what he is thinking, maybe the violent kick in your stomach that seems to accompany every flirtatious interaction with the man would finally leave you be.

Images of Spain waltz through your mind, of sundresses and fresh fruit, music, dancing, exquisite wine and food to die for. Bare feet sinking into warm sand, Pedro trailing close behind you with a camera in hand, capturing you as you blossom.

“Those all sound really, really lovely," you gush, allowing the grin that’s been repeatedly tugging at the corners of your lips to grow wide and toothy across your face. "I’ve always wanted to go abroad. Hey, if you ever need a hairdresser overseas, you know who to call.”

You catch a glimpse of yourself on your screen, your eyes twinkling and a soft glow washed over the apples of your rounded cheeks. You look positively enamored, entirely lovestruck, and you honestly couldn't care less.

“Where do you want to go most in the world?” his voice softens further as he rests a hand on his cheek, cozying himself against the arm of the couch.

The phone is inches from his face, likely because he misplaced his glasses, as he so often does. His eyes have that slight downturn, the innermost part of his brows raised slightly upward and inward, his irises catching every glint of the headlights passing by his window. The movement of the sparkle, along with the rich chocolate hue illuminated in its presence, leaves you struggling to form a coherent sentence.

“I... I think..." you stutter, closing your eyes for a few seconds to collect your thoughts. "I think I'd want to go to Greece. It’s a bit ridiculous, but I had a phase in my childhood where I was completely obsessed with Greek mythology. There are so many things I want to see there. And the photos I’ve seen… I just really want to experience that energy. It looks like it has a kindness to it, I can’t really explain what I mean by that... I just can feel it, you know?”

“You don’t have to explain, I know what you’re saying. Things are more gentle there," He speaks softly, his eyes decorating themselves with delicate crinkles and lines as his lips curl into an upward crescent. "The energy honestly kind of reminds me of you. Your… lightheartedness.”

“You think I’m gentle? And lighthearted?” you let out a hearty laugh, entirely spurred by your surprise.

You’ve never viewed yourself that way, at least from the outside looking in. Most of your life you've felt very coarse, gentleness not ever coming naturally to you.

When you grow up in a larger body, every single thing you do feels too big, too clumsy, too loud, every action feels like it should be followed up by an apology for simply existing. The world tries its darnedest to shrink you, to diminish your presence and lock you into a cage of shame, the only key to escape being a success in the pursuit of thinness. You’ve done endless internal work to break free from that prison, to allow yourself the freedom to be yourself unabashedly and throw a middle finger to the consequences.

But you have to admit, a part of you has always wanted to feel delicate.

It’s not that you want to shrink yourself, it’s quite the opposite. You want to be utterly yourself, and you want someone to actually see the gentleness that lives there. Through all the noise, the rowdiness, the bellowing laughter. Through the rough exterior, you want someone to find the soft woman that lives inside of you and love her delicately.

“Yes!” Pedro exclaims with wide, passionate eyes. “Well, not in a way that indicates weakness. No, you’re definitely a powerful woman."

His irises shift up, searching for words as he continues to play with his beard.

"You don’t let the world harden you. Your gentleness is resilient to… bullshit, I guess. You stay open. And not only that, but you stay playful too. Lighthearted. I admire that about you."

The words land like a grenade to the chest, the sensation coursing through your body completely unfamiliar. It’s almost agonizing, yet completely painless. Your veins must be vibrating, and you can hear the whoosh your blood flowing to and from your heart as it knocks violently about your ribcage.

You instinctively deflect as you attempt to bear through the absolute tsunami of emotions currently drowning you.

“P! Jesus, please!" you let out a fake gag, then another, speaking between each retch. "Too... many... compliments."

His hearty laugh booms through your shitty iPhone speakers, the sound of it crackling through the phone causing you to break from your performance, your unruly cackle echoing off the walls of your room. You only egg him on as he laughs harder and harder, eventually nothing but a wheeze escaping from his lungs. Your stomach burns as tears start to roll down your cheeks, and every attempt at steadying yourself only results in you completely losing it again.

You finally catch your breath, doubled over and clutching for dear life at your abdomen.

“I’ve missed you.” he mumbles through a heavy breath.

“I… I’ve missed you too.” you whisper back, just audible enough that you’re certain he can hear.

An inquisitive expression washes over his face, before he springs into an upright position.

“Well, we’ll have to do something about that then. Are you hungry?”

Does he mean… now?

“I mean… I could eat. Why?”

“If I come and get you, will you go get a burger with me? I’m having a craving.”

A pang of excitement explodes in your belly. Shit, of course you need to change, tame the current state of your hair, and honestly you could even use a shower. Some of the particularly heated scenes in Bridgerton caused you to break a sweat.

And, there’s no way in hell you’re going to let Pedro pick you up in his half-drunken state.

“I’m not letting you drive wine drunk, P. I’ll come get you," you announce, surprising yourself with your sudden assertiveness. "Send me your location, I’ll see how far you are from me.”

You suppose your tendency to take care of others triumphs over your jitters in this moment.

“Um… I… don’t... think I know how to do that.” he furrows his eyebrows with confusion as he focuses diligently on his screen.

Old man.

You’re able to walk him through it, but not without a proper teasing that he doesn’t know how to use his phone.

“Oh, ok, you’re like 25 minutes from me. I can swing that.”

You wonder if he can see through your facade, your pressed efforts at being nonchalant. Because truth be told, you’d drive for hours if he asked.

“Be ready, ok? I’ll see you soon.”

. . . . .

You’ve never gotten ready that fast in your life. You were able to assemble your hair into messy-yet-stylish fashion, apply a speedy coat of mascara and brow gel, spritz yourself with a subtle perfume and throw on an "I was just planning on sleeping in this" yet cute outfit. All in roughly… five minutes?

Now you’re dangling out of your car, throwing things about so Pedro can actually sit on the passenger’s seat. You’ve managed to wrangle up all of the various empty coffee cups and receipts floating around on the floor, and you cross your fingers that with the seat all the way back he'll have enough leg room.

He’s seen your car plenty of times, seen the mess that always seems to accumulate despite weekly clean outs, but he's never actually been inside. For some reason it feels very personal to drive him somewhere, to let him inside your car though you're sure he's used to far more luxurious modes of travel. But alas, here you are preparing to pick him up, and it makes you so nervous that your hands tremble.

You finally sink down into the velour fabric behind the wheel and select a playlist to keep you company. You choose the one with the most songs you can sing along to, anything to release an ounce the unidentifiable buzz swarming through your veins.

You can't help but chuckle at yourself, the fervid state of your mind and body absolutely laughable in its dramatics. Yes, of course you’re excited to see him in person. There are so many little things you miss. It’s been almost four months since you've heard the roar of his bellowing laugh in person. You miss the weight of his palm stabilizing himself on your shoulder as he crashes his head into you, the sounds escaping his throat akin to that of a tea kettle that's reached a boil. That was often a daily occurrence, the two of you overcome with giggles, holding on to each other for dear life, unable to catch your breath or maintain any sort of upright posture. You miss the morning coffee runs that left you scrambling for time while Pedro innocently sipped his six-shot monstrosity of a beverage, knowing full well it was his fault because he needed his espresso. You miss the feeling of his hair, how it would glide along your hands, intertwined in your fingers, yours to bend and mold in exactly the way you needed. You miss how he'd soften and slouch under your touch when you'd softly massage his scalp, how his shoulders would sink and his head would roll about like it was attached by an overcooked noodle. You miss the way his scent would fill the trailer and linger slightly after he would leave, the air laced with spice and wood and leather…

You sing to distract yourself, tapping complex rhythms on the back of the steering wheel with considerable force, trying to channel your giddy quivering out of your body through the tips of your fingers. The headlights of the cars in front of you shine and splinter in your vision like a supernova, and it soothes you just a bit, just enough to stop visibly shaking.

Somehow you arrive to the pin Pedro sent you in once piece. You haphazardly park on the dimly lit street and bounce your knee endlessly as you wait. You give yourself one more mist of perfume, the sweet scent wafting through the air in the car.

You need to just get a fucking… grip...

A loud bang jolts every bone in your body, your heart nearly leaping through the bones of your sternum and onto the black leather of the dash. Your head snaps to the left to see two flat palms and a thick pair of foggy black frames pressed up against the driver’s side window.

Idiot.

You open your door to hear his proud laughter echoing down the empty street. Before you can berate him, he pulls you into a tight hug, his strong hands grasping at the softness of your hips. The two of you spin around in the street, your arms still wrapped around each other, your legs doing something resembling a waddle back and forth. A prickly warmth spreads throughout you, radiating from the very center of your chest.

He pulls away to examine you, his palm resting gently on your right shoulder, where it seems to fit just perfectly. His smile softens as your eyes meets his, the street lights creating a freckled glimmer in his deep brown irises.

“I should punch you for scaring me like that,” you murmur, feeling suddenly bashful under his unwavering gaze, fixed on you like you’re the only other person in the world.

“You should, but you won’t,” he winks and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Now come on, I’m starving.”

He opens the driver’s side door for you with a satisfied grin and guides you into the car, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. His fingers shift, slipping just beneath the hem of your shirt and brushing against your bare skin.

Your knees nearly buckle.

You grip the steering wheel as you lower yourself into the seat and squeeze, straining to bear through the sudden panging need in lower belly. Jesus, you’re far too touch-starved for your own good.

Pedro slams his body weight into the passenger’s seat, causing your car to bounce a few times from the recoil. You jokingly shoot him a look of disgust and he throws his head back, cackling and reaching over the console to smack you in the arm.

“God, just put the address in my phone you idiot!” you exclaim through your own chuckles. He snags your phone from your extending hand and begins searching on your maps app.

He has on his purple Laker’s shirt and some black athletic shorts. The shorts are the perfect length, showcasing just enough of his thigh to garner a bit of attention but not so much that you can't keep your focus elsewhere. He paired the outfit with striped socks and sneakers, an almost copy-paste of every casual outfit you've seen him in, very on-brand for his day to day. You once tried to explain the concept of being on-brand to Pedro, but he just went around telling everyone he was “serving brand” for about a week straight. You honestly regret ever teaching him about “serve” in the first place.

You start to drive, a quiet and comfortable hum falling over the two of you. Your music is still playing, so soft that it's barely audible over the growl of the engine. Pedro reaches to crank the volume, veins protruding on the back of his hand as he turns the knob gently.

“You know how much I love Fleetwood Mac,” he speaks in his low, growling baritone, his scent filling the air and mixing with your lingering perfume, creating a fragrance intoxicating enough to give you a head rush.

You take a beat before responding, transfixed by the width and curve of his fingers and the spiral of ink at the crux of his thumb.

“I know, I picked the playlist with my passenger in mind.”

“Well I won’t subject you to any singing,” he teases. “Since you’re such a music snob.”

“I am not!” You reach over and shove his shoulder. “I have a deep appreciation for good music, that doesn’t make me a snob.”

“Sure… says the girl who was critiquing my playlists every goddamn day.” he shoves you back, this time against your thigh.

“What playlists?! Purple Rain fifteen times in a row is not a playlist,” you jab.

An offended, dramatized gasp fills his lungs before he scoffs ostentatiously, prompting an immediate eye roll from your side of the car.

It’s truly like no time has passed since you last saw each other.

. . . . .

You plop down into a slightly cramped, cherry red booth in the back corner of a slightly shoddy, time capsule of a diner. The vinyl cushions are cracked and peeling, beige crumbles of the filling erupting from the openings and spilling over. You scoot in carefully, hoping to avoid causing any further damage.

When you'd pulled in to park moments ago, your knee-jerk reaction to the sight of the place was a look of genuine concern. The lot was packed with toxically masculine trucks and seemingly refurbished vintage vehicles, and a hoard of beefy, somewhat terrifying men crowded the entrance in a haze of flickering red light and cigarette smoke.

“Just, trust me, will ya? It’ll be the best burger you’ve ever had," he insisted, shooting a subtle wink and a flash of pearly teeth, glimmering off of the sole street light illuminating the entirety of the parking lot.

He sits down opposite to you, raising his hand to greet the waitress from across the counter with a quick wave. You catch sight of her as her remarkably wrinkled, heavily kohl-lined eyes brighten at the sight of him. Her cherry red lips spread wide across her bony, slightly sullen face. She whispers something to the line cook standing next to her, and then immediately hightails it over to your table.

“S'been a while since we’ve seen you, Mister Pascal, I was startin’ to worry you’d went n' forgot 'bout us! But I know you’re a busy guy n’ all, bein' Hollywood's latest and greatest.”

Her voice is steeped overnight in a viscous southern drawl. It’s so thick that it almost makes the words move slower from her mouth, like they’re coagulating on her tongue on the way out.

“Darlene,” Pedro reaches a hand to grab hers, a tinge of Texan twang tickling the vowels in her name. “You know I can’t stay away from you for too long. And you know better than to call me anything other than Pedro.”

He gives her hand a little squeeze and you watch as the woman melts under his touch. You really can't blame her.

“Now, who is this sweet thing?” Darlene cocks her head slightly in your direction, her eyes still fixed on the cocoa irises gazing back at her.

“This is my… friend,” Pedro smiles, glancing towards you as his dimple indents beneath the bristles of his scruff. “And coworker.”

“You n' actress, honey?” she diverts her attention to you, her head bobbing slightly with a palpable sass.

“Oh, no, a hairstylist actually,” you explain, inexplicably embarrassed by the implication. “That’s how we met. I did his hair for a more recent project.”

“She’s very talented.” he chimes in. “She managed to make me look like an old man!”

“Darlene, it was one of the easiest jobs I’ve ever had, I’ll tell you that much.”

Pedro attempts to take a jab at your shoulder from across the table, but you duck slightly at just the right moment, his hand colliding with shiny smooth cushion.

Darlene lets out a laugh, one that sounds more like a prolonged smoker’s cough than anything else. She takes down Pedro’s order, the usual, and after a solid minute of convincing from both parties, you decide to go with the same thing.

Darlene hurries back to the kitchen and leaves you with a hungry-eyed man studying your every move.

“I promise you’re gonna like it. You’re gonna love it. It literally melts in your mouth. Hey—”

He reaches quicker than you can dodge him and his thumb and index finger grab ahold of your chin, slightly squishing your lips together.

“Quit making that face at me! I’m serious, it's really good!”

Another waitress swings around the corner, dropping off a pot of potent smelling coffee and two mugs, medium-sized and a robin’s egg blue.

“Always good to see you, Pedro.” she speaks in a low rasp, deeper than you'd anticipated from her petite frame and soft features. Pedro shoots her a wink before immediately reaching for the coffee pot.

“I’ll get this in right away for y’all. Anything else I can getcha in the meantime?” Darlene questions.

Pedro meets your gaze as you shake your heads in unison.

“Y'all've a real cute, uh, friendship,” she speaks hesitantly, one of her pencil-thin eyebrows cocked up with suspicion and her ruby lips curled into a smirk. A soft chuckle lilts in her trail as she turns away from you and slinks back to the kitchen.

“This place feels like a fever dream,” you mouth in a hushed tone as you attempt to sip on the scalding coffee in front of you. “Is she… is Darlene real? She doesn’t seem real.”

“Like straight out of a time capsule, right?” he grins.

“How the hell did you find this place?" you question him as you glance around to people-watch, catching sight of the elderly biker couple to your right, decked head to toe in worn black leather, demolishing two double cheeseburgers with reckless abandon.

“An old agent of mine took me here a long time ago. Since I’ve been in LA so much, I just find myself drawn back here,” his disposition softens as he speaks. “Reminds me of home, I guess, I can’t put my finger on why.”

You listen intently as he chronicles stories of New York, letting your fingers unconsciously twirl through your hair, the nasty habit that always seems to return in his presence. It's easy to get lost in the way he muses on about his experiences, like his own trance pulls you along with him into his dream-like state. He speaks with effervescent detail, a syrupy adoration on his tongue with each word that leaves his mouth. You could listen to him talk for hours and hours, utterly entranced by the way he transports you into his world, the lull of his voice like a spoonful of honey.

“Jesus, I’ve been blabbing on and on," he reaches up a hand to scratch behind his ear, a nervous tick you’ve noticed he frequents. "Am I boring you?"

“No no no, hey, you're not boring me," You rest your hand gently on the table, resisting the urge to grab his fidgeting hand and steady him. “You've got a way with words, I honestly feel like I’m right there with you.”

With a brief inhale, his hand falls slowly until it rests atop yours. You silently gasp at the sudden sensation, his touch heedfully delicate as he caresses the back of your hand with his thumb. His eyes are fixed as he wraps the rest of his fingers around and settles them in the crook of your palm. The thump of his pulse echoes yours as he traces up from your knuckles and slowly back to the base of your wrist, drawing a perfect ellipse on your velvety skin, sending goosebumps to riddle every square inch of your body. As your gaze flutters, you catch a glimpse of his face, his lips parted slightly in complete transfixion. You bite down on the inside of your cheek at the sight.

“Alrighty y’all, I go-” Darlene clears her throat as you both jolt violently, your spines simultaneously snapping upright as your hands tear apart. “I… got your burgers here. Just holler if ya need anythin' else.”

She smiles sweetly, a slight smugness tugging at her expression.

An involuntary chuckle escapes you, responding unconsciously to the knotting discomfort you feel in growing in your stomach. You stare unwaveringly at the mass of burger sitting in front of you, cheddar cheese oozing down the sides of the thick patty and spilling onto the plate. The thick veil of tension lies stagnant between you as the knot pulsing in your stomach threatens to snap.

“I’m like… scared of this thing. It’s a bit of a beast.” you murmur uneasily.

“Definitely don’t eat the whole thing. I’ve made that mistake… more than once," he admits, cutting carefully through the gargantuan sandwich down the middle. "I’m honestly amazed I can still enjoy this considering what it’s done to my stomach in the past. Here—"

He reaches across the table, cutting yours into perfect halves with conscious diligence.

"S'a lot easier to eat this way."

A flush creeps across your cheeks, the same sentence repeating in your head like a skip on a broken CD.

Why does he have to be so fucking thoughtful?

. . . . .

“I can’t… breathe properly. It hurts.” Pedro blabbers as he trudges himself from the restaurant, his hand clutching at his stomach as he groans in pain.

“Girl, I warned you to stop after you ate the half!”

After a third and some of the fries you were toast, and you by no means have a small appetite.

“Do I need to help you to the car? Have we gotten to that point?” you manage through a bout of laughter.

“Leave me alone!” he grunts, nearly doubled over at this point, shuffling toward the car with visible strain.

You sling his arm over your shoulder despite his protests, and let him lean a decent amount of his weight into you.

“I look like I’m drunk off of my ass,” he mumbles in your ear as you approach the passenger door. You open it for him and gesture your hand.

“Don't worry princess, I'll get you home safe.” you quip through a teasing smile, almost immediately followed by a shrill cackle.

He gives you a protesting shove as he plops down weakly into the seat.

You don't really want to take him home. Part of you wants to just drive for hours, listen to more of his musings, keep teasing and laughing and wearing out the energy lingering from your multiple cups of coffee coursing through your system. Maybe you could park in an empty lot and watch the sun come up. You just want to be with him, stay with him, just a little while longer.

But you know him. He’s busy. Always busy. Press tours, talk shows, auditions, meetings, he's never not booked for some sort of event. And of course he's never well rested, a borderline insomniac, and you'll be damned if you keep him from the sleep you know he desperately needs.. You shove down your selfish desire and set course back to town.

“I’m takin’ you home, you poor thing,” you turn the key in the ignition and pop the headlights on, a wash of yellowish-white beaming over the vintage vehicles and motorcycles parked in front of you. "You really should be in bed anyways."

“You know I don’t need sleep,” he teases, his body slumped over and his head looming fairly close to your body. With a quick peek, you find him glancing longingly at your right shoulder, as if he is using nothing but sheer willpower to stay upright and not rest his head on your bare skin.

“It's alright,” you whisper in a moment of understanding. You pat your shoulder twice, lightly, hoping he’ll register what you mean. “Rest.”

His head crooks up at you, clearly surprised, but with a soft and sweetened gaze. It’s almost as if his eyes are saying “thank you” and “are you sure?” in the same puppy dog expression. You nod slightly, a reassuring smile curling the corners of your lips.

He lets the top of his head settle in the crook of your neck as his cheek rests gently on your shoulder, his scruff tickling at the skin there. The tension in his body is evident, the muscles in his neck stiff and straining and his hands gripped together tightly in his lap. Quickly you fish your phone from your pocket and scroll through your music, finding your "cheaper than xanax" playlist before turning out of the parking lot.

The two of you stay silent, but not an uncomfortable and brooding silence. It feels meditative, almost like a single word would eradicate the solace you’re sharing amongst the hum and glow of the golden street lights. Minutes pass and you feel his breathing start to slow and deepen as he finally allows the full weight of his head to sink into you. You quietly begin to hum along to the soothing song that is playing, unable to remember the last time you felt so at peace.

Because that’s the thing about Pedro. He feels like peace.

If you void all of the external factors, his hectic schedule, the blur of professionalism, the enigmatic feelings and moments of anxious uncertainty… none of it truly matters when it boils down to the core of who you are. You just fit together, inexplicably, undeniably, effortlessly. You can talk for hours, god knows, but quiet settles in just as easily, the pressure to perform completely eradicated in each other's presence. In moments like these, being with him feels like being wrapped in a warm comforter, fresh out of the dryer. You can just… be. He sees you, you see him, and you can take comfort in knowing the other is there, and no one is expected to break the silence.

He falls asleep by the end of the first song and stays dormant on your shoulder the whole drive home. Your chest starts to ache as you turn onto his street. The last thing you want right now is to watch him leave without any idea when you’ll see him again.

You give his hand a little shake and whisper his name into his ear. He groans softly and nuzzles into your skin, the prickle of his mustache tickling the delicate skin of your shoulder. You shake a little harder this time, more of a gentle shove. He inhales deeply as his eyes flutter open.

“You're home,” you speak softly.

He sits himself upright slowly, his hair vertical on the side he was resting against you. You unconsciously reach to smooth the mess for him, a habit you fell into after doing it so often in between takes during filming. He leans into your hand, ever so slightly, his eyes droopy and blinking sluggishly.

“I missed that, you know,” he admits, his voice laced with sleep. “You, fixing my… mess.” He motions to his tousled curls.

You missed it too, the way he would always hum deeply when your fingers ran across his scalp. You missed the way he would always say “Better?” once you seemed satisfied with the adjustment. He loved to tease your perfectionism, and especially loved to try and tousle your hair back.

You miss every minute.

“Me too,” you reply demurely. “Now, you better go to bed once you get upstairs. I won’t have your sleep-deprived grumpiness getting blamed on me.”

“We’ll see. I haven’t fallen asleep that fast in months. Twice in a row would be a miracle," he chuckles. He unfastens his seatbelt and lets out a deep, bellowing yawn. “Now, come give me a hug.”

You oblige through your slight haze, stepping out as he meets you by the driver’s side and wraps himself around you, his arms finding their familiar spot and his hands resting perfectly on the small of your back. You allow yourself to hang gently from his shoulders as you lightly nuzzle your nose into his neck, tipsy on the intoxicating scent of him.

You stay like that, for a moment, until Pedro places a small kiss on your temple.

The warmth of it lights you up in your entirety. You manage to untether yourself from him as you stomach does a flip, and then another, and another. When you meet his gaze, he smiles gently as he unravels himself from you, your arms falling to your sides, completely limp.

“Thank you for indulging me. I promise next time I’ll only eat half,” he laughs quietly to himself as he lazily paces backwards across the pavement. “Goodnight, sweet plum.”

“Goodnight,” you simper, your bones growing more flimsy with the passing of each second.

Every time he calls you that, sweet plum, you feel as though you could melt into his arms and he'd hold you like a puddle in his hands.

He turns away and walks towards the entrance to his building, but not without looking back to glance at you one more time. You offer a pitiful wave as he grins from ear to ear, waving again with a quick wink. You stay as he slips through the door, down the hall, and then he’s gone.

Through a sudden bout of dizziness, you manage your way back to the driver’s seat. You turn the key in the ignition, fasten your seatbelt, and start to drive away, a singular thought looping through your mind on repeat.

He kissed you. He kissed you. He kissed you.

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chapter five

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #plus size reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #the last of us

127 notes · View notes

yeonzzzn · 19 days

Text

wanna be the sequel: sim jaeyun

part two of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 11.6k

synopsis: you decide to keep jake’s secret of him being the mysterious ghost face killer, always taking up for him and playing dumb to the cases. but as jake’s love for you starts to overpower him and blurs his lines, his killer instinct reaches new heights.

genre: situationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.

warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane, blood & m*rder, reader has a dream of being k!lled, knife play, fingering, oral (m. rec), cum eating, multiple unprotective sex scenes, one public sex scene bc jake got jealous, reader gets fucked against a mirror, reader gets cut at some point, if I missed everything please let me know!

His smirk sent chills down your spine as he buried himself deep within you, one hand was on your neck and the other squeezed the plush of your thighs. His thrusts were rough and relentless, that evil smirk growing wider and wider as the clock ticked along.

“I’ve dreamt of this,” he cooed, cock twitching against your walls, “Fucking you to death, it’s so hot.”

His hand left your thigh, and where it went, you had no idea. You just knew his thrusts were now sloppy and his cum was filling you whole.

“Hmmm, so pretty,” he cooed again, breathing hard after his release, an unbearable amount of pain now being felt at your side, “So pretty with how you bleed out for me.”

You looked to your left, seeing his knife pushed between your skin and your blood gushing onto the handle, his hand, and the floor.

You gasped for air, tears swelling your eyes as you looked up at him, begging for him to stop.

“Awe, sweet baby,” he slowly pulls the knife out of your side, bringing it up to his face, “Your blood is pretty too, everything about you is so pretty.”

You tried to pull yourself up, to throw him off you, but your body weighed millions, arms like lead.

He presses the tip of his knife to your bare chest, aiming right atop your heart, “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to kill you, feeling your blood on my hands,” he slowly pushed the knife in, and your gasps came in a rush and slowly dragged. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Sweet honey, so pretty even when you’re dying.”

He laughs. You blinked at him as the tears fell down your cheeks, taking one final breath and everything turning black.

You shot straight up in your bed, hands reaching for your chest and side, not feeling the wounds. It was just a dream…just a dream.

Sweat droplets slid down your face and you wiped them away with the back of your hands. The cool air of your apartment helped cool you off from the dream. Creating goosebumps on your skin.

The dream. Where was Jake?

You looked to your left, seeing his side of the bed empty, “Jake?” you called out, your heart racing faster, “Jaeyun?”

You glanced at the chair in the corner of the room, seeing his duffle bag still there, the ghost face mask hanging from the top of the chair, staring directly back at you. His side of the bed was cold, proving he’d been gone for a while, “Jake?” you called out again, the silence was starting to make you go crazy, crazier than you already were for homing a serial killer.

You had feelings for him, despite everything he has done and will do. You wanted to fix him, praying that having him by your side twenty-four-seven was doing the trick, even if it was a little at a time.

But you started to panic, slowly starting to crawl out of bed when your bedroom door opened and your heart stopped.

“You called for me, honey?” Jake asked with a quart of cherry vanilla-swirled ice cream in his hands and a spoon hanging from his mouth. You stared at him, not knowing what to make of this. He looks down at the quart in his hands and back up at you, “I was craving a late-night snack.”

How was the man in front of you a serial killer? How was he clinically insane and batshit crazy, but craved ice cream? Being so soft and gentle at this moment. You’d never guessed he’d murdered so many people.

Jake pulled the spoon from his mouth and reached it back into the quart, “Want some?”

You shrugged but nodded, might as well right?

With a cute smile on his face, he sits down on the bed in front of you and scoops up the creamy goodness, and holds it to your mouth, “Say ah!”

You let him feed you, feeling your heartwarming by how cute he was right now. How…angelic he was. Jake’s happy expression quickly changes to a concerned one, “Honey, what’s wrong?” He sat the ice cream down on the nightstand table and placed his cold hands on your cheeks, thumbs wiping away the tears you didn’t realize were still there, “talk to me.”

You didn’t know how to tell him you dreamed of him killing you. Mostly when nearly two months ago he was so willing to slice your throat open on your kitchen floor. “It was just a bad dream.”

Jake pouts, “My sweet baby,” he lays down beside you and pulls you to his chest, cuddling you close to him, “I’m sorry, want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, wrapping your arm around his waist, “I just want to be close to you, it’s helping. I promise.”

Jake pressed a kiss to the top of your head. He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what you dreamt of. The look on your face gave it away. Jake expected it, honestly. He almost killed you, so you have a very valid reason for having such horrid dreams as that. Jake couldn’t lie, he wanted nothing more than to slice his knife across certain parts of your body to watch you bleed, but not kill you. How could he kill the love of his life?

He held you close, listening to the sound of your breathing and how it slowed down as you drifted back off to sleep. He slowly traced his thumb up and down your back, his eyes locking onto his mask hanging from the chair, and a smirk spread on his lips.

It was almost time.

—

You leaned against the table, crossing your arms and staring at the corkboard. Eyes tracing along the red thread that connected each murder case. The murder cases against Ghost Face…against Jake. You mindlessly kept your eyes tracing, acting like you were busy trying to figure it out, acting like you normally would on any other day. It’s been a rough couple of months of lying to the rest of your club, that’s for sure. How did Jake do it this whole time?

“YN!!” You whip your head around to the new recruit of the club, seeing her bright cute smile as she walks up to you, and then look at the board, “You’ve been staring for a while, find any new clues?”

Danielle Marsh, a freshman and such a sweet girl who came from Australia on a journalism scholarship and has the brains—and the grades—to make it big one day. She is just as invested in the Ghost Face murders almost as much as you were. Lying to such a sweet soul every day was heartbreaking.

“Nope, not yet? Dani,” you said with a fake sigh, looking back at the board, “Nothing new.”

“Well darn!” her cute Aussie accent puffed, “I’ve also been staring at this all day, and going through your old journals and notes about the cases to get a brighter idea, but nothing.”

You thinned your lips to a line and looked down to the floor, “It’s rough out here.”

It was silent in the club room until the doors opened, both you and Danielle looking to see Jake walking in with a bag, “I brought lunch!”

Danielle clapped her hands, rushing to Jake and taking the bag, “Thank you!”

He smiles at her, both of you watching as she makes herself comfy at the table and pulls out everyone’s food.

You sit across from her, feeling Jake wrap his arms around your shoulders and resting his chin atop your head.

Danielle hands you a box with your food but notices there are only two boxes, “Are you not eating, Jake?” you ask him.

He shakes his head, “Nope, I ate earlier. I have somewhere to be here soon. Only stopped by to drop off lunch and head out.”

You hummed, wondering what he had to be doing here soon. You already knew, or assumed, what he was doing, but you also couldn’t ask, not with Danielle in the room.

So you both ate in silence, her eyes glancing on and off from you and Jake, a small smile on her face, “Jake have you figured anything else out about the murders?”

You tried to act normal, to keep your body calm and a poker face on, continuing to eat as if that question didn’t trigger something.

Jake just sighs, deciding to sit beside you now and dropping his face into his palm, “Not a thing. Whoever he is, he’s smart, that’s for sure.”

Way to boost your own ego there, Jake Sim.

“He’ll get caught someday,” Danielle casually says, taking a bite of her chicken.

Jake’s eyes lit up as he smiled, “Oh yeah? You think so?”

You carefully watched him. Jake knew your eyes were on him, watching his body language and how he looked at Danielle. He knew you were probably worried about her, possibly what he’d do to her. But you needn't worry, he wouldn’t harm her. Not unless she got too close.

Danielle nods, “He’s killed over thirty people and somehow stolen evidence from the police station after his first mess up. He’s bound to make another mistake.”

Jake raised his brows, heart pounding fast with excitement. Silly little thing, thinking he was fucking stupid enough to make another mistake like the first time. He was more careful than ever to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. Plus he had you now, you’d make sure nothing bad happened to him.

“Anyway,” Danielle said, changing the subject, “Suspects,” she giggled, “Who do you think the man behind the mask is?”

It was Jake’s turn to watch you, a smile still on his face, “Yeah, honey, have any ideas or clues?”

You wanted to punch him, knowing he was doing this on purpose to tease you, to test you.

So you shrug, keeping your eyes locked to your food, “No idea. I thought I was close once, but after the evidence disappeared, it was back to the drawer board.”

Good fucking girl.

Jake wanted to kiss you so hard right now. It turned him on hearing you lie for him. To act so dumb and oblivious. All for him.

He glanced up at the clock on the wall, his smile only growing wider.

“I’d love to stay with you lovely ladies,” Jake stands up, wrapping his arms back around you, “But I need to head out.” You nod, noticing Danielle’s mouth and eyes are smiling at you both.

Jake kisses your cheek and squeezes you tightly then is out the door.

“You two make such a good couple,” she coos, “Not only are you both the best journalists at this college, you’re the IT couple too!!~~~”

You softly chuckle, “We aren’t together though…” you sigh staring down at your chicken, “More of a situationship than anything else.”

Danielle frowned, “But he moved in with you, didn’t he? He holds your hand around campus and even shows you off on his Instagram. Totally thought you’d be an item.”

You shrug, taking a bite out of your food and swallowing, “He hasn’t asked me out or anything, so there’s technically not a label.”

You honestly didn’t know what Jake wanted with you. He treated you like a girlfriend, made love to you like a girlfriend, and did everything a boyfriend would do. Yet you still had no idea what he wanted. You were more surprised that he agreed to move into your apartment with you, considering he spends his free time, ya know, killing people. You mostly only asked him to move in to save poor Sunghoon, but also because you wanted him close to you. Maybe you were more insane than Jake was.

“Well,” Danielle sighs, “You two still are really cute together. I hope it eventually turns into a real relationship.”

You and me both, Dani.

—

Jake pulls a cell phone from his pocket, quickly dials a number, and presses the device to his ear, adjusting his duffle bag on his shoulder.

“Jake!” she sang on the other line, “Where are you?”

Jake smirks, “I am looking for you, Luna.”

She softly giggles over the line, “I am standing right where you told me to.”

Jake knew where she was. He could see her standing in the alleyway across the street from him. She wore a cute red glittery dress with matching high heels. Blonde dyed hair pulled back into a neat ponytail that was braided. She was cute, but nothing compared to you, his sweet honey.

“I am almost there,” he says, dropping his duffle bag to the ground. He was also standing in an alleyway, it being too dark for anyone to notice him, or even notice Luna across the street from him, “I might have taken a wrong turn.”

She giggles again, “Aren’t you like, top of your class or something? It’s what your dating profile said.”

“Ahh,” Jake chuckles, pulling his black suit from the bag, holding the phone between his ear and shoulder as he puts it on, “I’m book smart, not street smart.” It took everything in Jake to not laugh at how gullible this woman was. It’s why he picked her in the first place. It was so easy to create a fake dating profile on some random ass app with a fake last night and profile picture. This woman doesn’t even actually know what he looks like. Made this all the more fun. It wasn't just because of how stupid she was, she openly has it on her profile that she’s a Ghost Face enthusiast. Imagine that! A personal fan of his, what an honor it was to kill a fan. And an honor to her to be killed by him. Pity though, she was really pretty. He didn’t drive three hours here and wasted another two waiting around for night to hit just to make this an easy kill for her. No no, he was going to make this fun.

Jake continued to watch Luna as she laughed across the street, kicking her heels into the rubble of the street and pulling out his mask. “Wait,” He says, “I think I see you.”

Luna looks up and down the street and even behind her. “I don’t see you.”

“I’m across the street from you,” he smirks, tossing his duffle bag behind some abandoned boxes, and taking further steps back into the dark alleyway, “Walk over to me?”

She smiles and tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, looking both ways before jumping from the curb and rushing across the street, “You better be giving me the best fuck of my life for making me run in heels.”

Jake’s smirk only grew, adjusting his mask over the top of his head, “Oh, don’t worry I’ll fuck you real good, I promise.”

He slid the mask down in place, holding the phone back between his shoulder and ear to slide his gloves on his hands.

“Good,” Luna let out a huff, taking a deep breath as she reached the other side of the street, “snow where are you?”

Jake hid in the darkness, “Hiding, gotta come find me,” he said in a teasing voice, watching how she smiled and walked down the alleyway. Stupid woman.

“I don’t see you, and why do you sound muffled?”

“Must be the shitty connection.”

She shrugs, slowly but surely making her way towards Jake. The closer she got, the more he could tell she was getting uncomfortable, “Jake it’s really dark out here, where are you?”

“Hmmm,” he hums, “I’ll tell you if you answer my question.”

She stops walking, clicking her tongue, and turns around, facing away from him.

Perfect.

“What?” she says annoyed, “If you’re pulling a prank and are actually on the other side of the street I swear.”

“I’m not, don’t worry,” Jake clenched the voice changer attached to his suit, “I just need to ask,” he pressed the button, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

Luna’s heart dropped, her blood going cold, but a smile on her face, nevertheless, “I didn’t know you were also a Ghost Face enthusiast,” she giggled, “That kind of hot, actually. Didn’t think I’d find anyone else from this town who also was into it.”

Jake creeps up on her slowly, his knife being pulled from his pocket, “You see, the thing is, I am not from this town,” Luna’s smile fades, “I’m also not an enthusiast.”

Before she could turn around, Jake ended the call, tossing the burner phone somewhere in the abyss of the alley, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, and pressing the knife to her neck.

Luna gasps, dropping her phone and purse to the ground, hands flying to Jake’s arm. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sharpness of Jake’s knife cut deep into her throat, the warm red liquid spilling from her neck and down the front of her hands and arms, her dress, and Jake’s arm.

“I am the Ghost Face,” he whispers as Luna starts to struggle against his hold, clawing at his arm with her nails, ripping the long sleeve of his suit, and digging into his skin.

He hisses as pushes her to the ground, her body landing with a thud. Using all the strength she had in her dying body to try and crawl away from him, her blood staining the concrete.

Jake was pissed now. He’d have to sew his suit back together and probably stitch up his arm once he’s back at the apartment. Oh, how worried you’ll be once you see him tonight. His anger flourishes even more, pissed at Luna for how she will make you worry about him.

Jake looped his boot at her waist, lifting her up and forcing her to flip over. He quickly dropped down, straddling her, loving the scared look on her face. The look of death looming over.

“Awe,” he coos, his Aussie accent mixed with the voice mod sent chills down her spine, “You really tried your best to get away,” he pins her arms down with his knees, and free hand pinned her shoulder to the ground, “You really shouldn’t trust random people on the internet. Haven’t your parents taught you that?” She gasped for air, trying to find some way to scream out for help. Jake clicked his tongue, hovering the tip of his knife to her chest, “Don’t you also know it’s rude to ignore people?” he slowly pushed the knife in, “Your parents didn’t teach you a damn thing, no wonder you’re so gullible.”

The sounds of her gasps mixed with the gurgling sounds of her blood pooling out from her neck and chest were music to his ears. He quickly pulled the knife out and slid it back in, creating a new wound. Jake repeated the process, spreading Luna’s blood all over himself, his mask, her dying body, and the ground. Loving how his knife sounded as it repeatedly broke her skin.

Jake was sweating, feeling the droplets stream down his face, needing some air.

He slid the mask up, finally revealing his true face to her. Blood dripped from her mouth as she stared blankly at him, vision going blurry. He laughs, “Still kicking? What a trooper.” He lifted up his right arm, shoving the sleeve up to his elbow, revealing the deep cuts her nails left, “No wonder you left such a nasty wound, you’re a fighter even when you’re fucking stupid.” Luna tried to fight, to say anything, her heartbeat barely holding on.

Jake traced the tip of his knife down the side of her pale face, “My girl might kill me when I return home after seeing the damage you did to my arm,” he tilted his head, “I promised her I would be careful,” he chuckles, “Oh well, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.”

“fuck…you…” was all Luna managed to say with her dying breath.

Jake’s smile grew, “That wasn’t very nice.” He was done playing now, wanting to return home and cuddle you the rest of the night. He wasted enough time here, “So long, Luna.”

Jake made his final strike, her blood splattering across his face as she took her final breath.

—

You paced about the living room, arms crossed over your chest and hands rubbing your upper arms. Where was he? It’s been hours and he was nowhere to be seen. You called Sunghoon asking if he was with him, only to your dismay, Sunghoon hasn’t seen him since soccer practice this morning.

You already figured out what Jake was doing. His duffle bag wasn’t in its normal spot in the bedroom. The endless thoughts of the worst possible scenarios raced through your head. What if something happened? What if he got caught? What if his victim fought back and he couldn’t get away? Many more different thoughts spilled about your brain. And you wouldn’t rest until he either walked through that door or called you.

You’ve called him multiple times. Texted him too. But got no response. Jake normally turns his phone off when he…to keep from someone tracking his location or disturbing him. It only made you worry more.

The spots on the hard floor were now warm from your pacing and your neighbors below you were probably getting ready to grab a broomstick and start hitting their ceiling.

But all your worries faded when your ears picked up the sound of keys jingling from the other side of the front door, being pushed into the lock and turning. The door opened and finally, Jake stepped inside. He smiled at you, “Hi my sweet honey, you waited up for me?”

You wanted to rush to him, to hug him and kiss him and yell at him for being gone so long and making you worry. To beat the shit out of him for committing another murder and how you felt like shit because all you want to do is fix him. But to your dismay, you know you can’t fix insanity, not when you’re also insane.

Jake tilted his head, “Not going to welcome me home?”

You noticed the dried blood on his face and hair, you pitted whoever the victim was, “Welcome home, Jake.”

“That my sweet honey,” he drops the duffle bag to the floor and walks over to you, embracing you to his chest. He smelt of sweat and blood, causing you to scrunch your nose.

“You need a shower.”

Jake chuckles, squeezing you tightly, “I know.”

You ran your hands from his shoulders down to his forearm, his face wincing. You looked up at him, “What's wrong?”

Jake awkwardly smiled, “Nothing.”

You looked down to his forearm where your hand gripped onto his hoodie sleeve, noticing how pale his skin looked on his hand. Something happened. You quickly pulled up the sleeve, seeing four deep cuts to the skin.

“Now…honey—“

“What the fuck happened?!” You snapped, pointing your finger to the kitchen table, “Sit the fuck down.”

Jake quickly nodded. Shit, she might actually fucking kill me.

You pulled the first aid kit from the bathroom and quickly rushed back to him, kneeling down in front of him. He was lucky you decided to buy the most expensive one and had first aid training. Ya know, in case something like this happened. Jake explained to you the series of events that led up to now, with an insane smile on his face the entire time.

“It was perfect,” he coos, “You should have seen it, honey.”

You gently smiled at him, deciding to keep your thoughts on how you were perfectly fine not being there to witness it. You cleaned up what you could of the wounds, “You’ll need stitches.”

He cocks his head, eyes filled with so much endearment for you, “Good thing I have you to take care of me, ya?” He caresses your cheek, thumb gliding to your lips and pulling the button one down, “So good for me.”

You pulled from his graze, reaching into the kit and pulling out the tools, dissolvable stitches, and bandages, “This will probably hurt.”

Jake shrugs, “I’m a soccer player, I’ve had stitches and broken bones before.”

You pushed off his sassy attitude, preparing the needle and the string. Jake sat through it like a champ, only winching when the needle pierced through his skin. You placed ointment over the stitches and bandaged it up, “All done.”

Jake leans forward and places a kiss on your forehead and then leans back into the chair, “Thank you, honey.”

You packaged up the kit, another thought shooting in your mind, “She dug her nails into you, correct?”

Jake inhales, “Yeah? Isn’t that what I said?”

You glared at him, “She probably has your DNA under her nails, you fucking idiot!”

Your chin was between his index finger and thumb before you even had the chance to blink, his face inches away from yours, “I’m not a fucking idiot!” he hissed between his teeth, “I took care of it.” He dropped your chin, running his hands through his dark sweaty, and blood-soaked hair, keeping eye contact with you. Your pissed-off glare was relentless, and oh man, it was turning him on. Seeing you so pissed off at him yet so worried about his well-being. What did he do to deserve you?

Jake drops his hand to his crotch, palming his hardening length, “I love it when you look at me like that,” he tilts his head, “You know what I’d love even more?”

You waited, feeling your arousal starting to pool on your panties.

“Your mouth wrapped around my cock.”

Jake slowly unbuttoned his jeans, looping his thumbs in between the fabric of his boxers and skin, sliding both his jeans and boxers down to the floor, his fully hard dick resting against his abdomen. He tilted his chin up, signaling for you to touch him.

So you did, wrapping your hand around his base and slowly pumping him, taking the precum spilling from the tip and spreading it around the head. Jake groans at your touch, cock twitching, “Stop teasing me, baby.”

He places his hand on your head, gently pushing you forward, his tip touching your lips. You place a few kisses to the tip, sneaking your tongue out and wrapping it around the head, hand sliding up and down the shaft as you slowly take him in your mouth, bobbing your head in a slow motion and flattening your tongue to fit him in deeper.

“Fuck, honey,” he moans, moving your head with his hand to help you pick up the speed, “Your mouth feels so good.”

His tip hits the back of your throat, kicking in your gag reflex, sending vibrations against him. Jake hisses, flinging his head back over the chair and bucking his hips up, “Fuck, YN, oh fuck.”

Your hands now held onto his thighs, feeling the muscles flex against your palms as he bucked his hips up into your mouth, your nose brushing against his pelvis. You tucked your feet beneath you and squeezed your thighs together, trying to feel some fiction of your own as your arousal pooled in your panties, more than likely soaking through the thin material and your shorts.

Tears swelled your eyes as you tried to breathe through your nose, relishing too much in this pleasure of having him so far down your throat to even dare think about coming up for air. But the twitch his cock did against your tongue told you enough that he wouldn’t last much longer.

You fluttered your eyes up, already seeing him staring back down at you. Jake’s eyes were completely blown out, mouth gaped open, and breathing deeply. The dried blood on his face—for whatever reason—mixed with the facial expression of pure bliss, was so fucking hot on him.

It didn’t make sense to you, how you could find blood splattered across his beautiful face to be so attractive. Maybe it was just your plain attraction to him, the feelings you felt for him that ran so deep that he made blood look good.

Jake loved this moment, loved you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, watching how his cock disappears down your throat. God, it was perfect, way better than the murder he committed hours ago. He loved how the tears swelled your eyes but you loved every moment of his cock in your mouth.

“You look so pretty wrapped around my cock, baby,” he bucked his hips up harder, hitting the back of your throat and you moaned around him. His fingers tangled in your hair, “I’m gonna fill that pretty little mouth of yours with my load and you’ll swallow it, understand?”

You tried to nod but instead batted your eyes at him in understanding, he just smirked, “Good girl.”

With a few bobs of your head, Jake pushed you down onto him, hips snapping up to meet your nose against his pelvis, his cum shooting down your throat. He took a few deep breaths, rocking his hips to chase out that high, flinging his head back against the chair.

When his grip on your hair released, you slid him out your mouth, causing Jake to look back up at you, waiting. You swallowed his seed, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out, showing the proof.

Jake smirks, leaning forward and giving you a quick kiss, “I’m so in love with you.”

He stands from the chair, kicking his legs out of his jeans and boxers and pulling the hoodie and shirt off too, tossing them to the floor.

You narrowed your eyes at him, piercing daggers into his back. He just got the best head of his life and he’s stripping and dropping his nasty bloody clothes all over your floor?

“Honey?” he calls for you, pulling out his bloody suit and mask, “Would you mind please washing my clothes for me? I’ll repay you by making breakfast in the morning.”

He turns to you, picking up all the clothes he left on the floor and handing them to you, his naked body distracting you.

“Hey,” he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up at his face, “I’ll make love to you after my shower, okay?” He gives you a wink, “Please wash my clothes?” You quickly nod, how could you turn down getting dicked down later AND breakfast tomorrow morning? He placed one last kiss on your lips and made his way to the shower.

—

You leaned against the arcade machine, watching as Jake and Sunghoon slapped their palms onto the buttons of the Tekken game, both their faces with full smiles and concentration. Your eyes wandered down to Jake’s arms and hands, his beautiful veins popping out.

“Be careful,” you said, fully noticing just how hard the two boys were slapping the buttons, “This is an old machine.”

“YES!!” Sunghoon screamed, raising his hands in the air and causing you to jump back from being startled by his outburst, “Suck it Jake!”

Jake dropped his face into his hands, resting his elbows on the machine, “I was so sure I had you!”

Sunghoon patted Jake’s back, “Can’t win them all buddy.”

Jake quickly shot up from the stool, his index finger pointing across the arcade, “Dance battle me!”

Sunghoon smirked, “You’ll lose again.”

Jake flipped him the bird, shoving the middle finger in his face as he walked away, “Try me.”

The two of them rushed to the Dance Dance Revolution game, fighting over who would use their coins for the round.

You still get whiplash every time you see Jake doing normal things. That this man—who is a fucking serial killer—is fighting with his best friend over who is going to pay for the game, just like any normal set of friends would do. Besides the fact that he is far from normal.

“Kids, am I right?”

You got startled for the second time today, jumping and quickly whipping your head around to see where and who the voice came from. You recognize that dyed blonde hair and smile.

Jay Park. A student in the film department. You’ve worked with him plenty of times on different projects for the college. He even helped you and Jake on one of the first few Ghost Facer murder cases. It’s been a while since you’ve actually gotten to see or really speak to him besides in passing.

You leaned against the Tekken arcade machine and crossed your arms, your eyes wandering back to Jake and Sunghoon, watching as they competitively danced away, “Yeah, boys will be boys, I guess.”

Jay follows your gaze over to them, chuckling at them, “Are they always like this?”

That…was a good question. You and Jake didn’t hang out with Sunghoon very often. Even before you found out about Jake’s Ghost Face persona you didn’t see a lot of Sunghoon. Nothing was different now.

So you just kind of shrugged, “When I see the two of them together, yeah.”

Jay was looking at you again, eyebrows raised, “When you see them both?” you nodded, “Oh, well figured you would since you’re dating Sim.”

“Actually,” you sigh, once again being reminded how he’s not yours, “We aren’t…dating.”

Jay was now even more confused, “Doesn’t he live with you?”

You thinned your lips and gave another shrug, “It’s complicated.” Complicated because I’m housing a serial killer who has yet to slap a label on what we even are.

“So you’re single then?” you nod again, “In that case.” Jay leaned closer to you, his face a few inches away from yours and his arm resting behind you against the gaming machine, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? If I am being honest, I’ve always found you super cute.” Jay couldn’t help but let his eyes wander down your body, stopping at the ruffles of your skirt, loving how the cute flowered laced ends looked against your pushed thighs, “I would pay and everything, be my treat.”

The dance ended with Jake and Sunghoon practically coming to a tie, Jake only by three points ahead of him.

“Fuck…” Jake pants, “You…” he said with another pant and once again giving his best friend his middle finger, “Beat your ass.”

Sunghoon shoved his friend's hand out of his face, rolling his eyes, “By three points!”

Jake just smiles, happy with his win, “YN did you see…” Jake barely turned around to speak with you to see you still by the last game they played and Jay in your personal space. His blood boiled and his fists clenched, “Why is Park in my girl's space?”

Sunghoon took a deep breath, still tired from the intense dance battle, and turned, seeing the same thing Jake was, “Maybe he's just being friendly?”

Friendly? HA. Right. That look on Jay’s face was anything but friendly. Jay was looking at you the way he does, “Friendly my ass,” Jake hissed, “I don’t like it.”

Sunghoon sighed, “Well, maybe if you made it official between the two of you, he wouldn’t be in her space.”

Make it official? Wasn’t Jake living under your roof, sleeping in your bed, fucking you so good every single night not proof enough that you two were exclusive? That you’re his and no one else’s?

Jake’s anger boiled further, seeing how you shook your head at Jay but kept smiling at him. His smile only became bigger. Jake’s nails sank into his palm.

“Damn, dude,” Sunghoon whistled, “Never seen you so jealous before.”

Jealous? Ridiculous.

“Why don’t you go get us a table at that restaurant we planned to hit up after this,” Jake said with a killing calm, “YN and I will meet you there soon.”

Sunghoon agreed, mostly because he wanted no part of whatever it was Jake was about to do. He’s never seen him so jealous over something. Sunghoon definitely didn’t want to be around if a fight broke out. Praying to every god possible that you’re able to keep Jake calm.

Once Sunghoon was out of the arcade, Jake stepped down from the dance game, eyes blazing at seeing Jay trace his fingers down from your shoulder to your wrist.

Jake was on you in an instant, “Hands off my girl,” he growled, shoving Jay away from you and pulling you behind him, his killer instinct coming on full display. Oh man, how badly did Jake want to kill Jay. To slowly sink his knife into his neck and watch the life drain from his eyes and blood stream from the wound.

Jay chuckled, “Your girl?” he smirked, leaning back against the gaming machine, “Didn’t realize she belonged to you.”

This was the first time you were actually scared of Jake. You’ve never seen him so pissed off, so protective. His grip on your wrist was growing tighter the longer he pierced daggers at Jay.

“I came in her this morning, making her mine,” Jake smirked, the fire in his eyes not relenting.

“Are you a dog?” Jay scrunched his nose and raised a brow, “Marking your territory or some shit?”

“Fucked her in doggy, so yeah.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Jay stood up straight, taking a few steps back, “What the fuck man.”

“Woof.”

“Jake!” you slapped his arm, trying to yank your wrist free, your cheeks flushed from him exposing your morning deeds, “Stop, let’s just go!”

You tried to pull Jake now, only for him to yank you back closer to him, you tripping over your feet and landing against his back, “What’s wrong baby? Am I embarrassing you?” he coos, “Were you so bored of me that you had to slut around and flirt with someone who wasn’t me?”

“Hey!” Jay barked, “Don’t talk to her like that!”

“Or what?” Jake said with a chilling calm, taking a few steps closer to Jay, being inches apart from his face, “Don’t fuck with me.”

“Get out,” Jay scoffed, “Before I kick you out.”

Jake raised a brow, “Yeah?”

“Yeah, asshat, my family owns this arcade. I work here, get the fuck out.”

Jake smirks, walking backward and sliding his arm over your shoulder, “Nah, we got some coins left to use.”

The last thing Jay wanted to do was call the police and have to explain to his family it was all over a girl. So he watched Jake cling to you as he turned you both around, placing a kiss on your temple, keeping eye contact with him the entire time. Jay didn’t know Jake well, but the man he was seeing right now, scared the shit out of him. Like he could kill him in a heartbeat. So Jay left it alone, walking over to the front counter and sitting down on the stool, keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay.

Jake dropped himself in front of another fighting game, pulling you into his lap, lips on your ear, “You better fucking talk me out of this one,” he growled, “because if you don’t I’m returning here later tonight, and fucking killing him and stringing his body from the ceiling for his family to find tomorrow morning.”

Your heart sank, eyes looking over to Jay and seeing his eyes staring back at you, “Jake please,” you whispered.

“Please what?” he whispered back, both his hands rubbing at your thighs, “You were so flirty with him and now you’re begging me to not kill him?”

You hated how his voice in your ear was making you wet. How his hands squeezing your bare thighs was sending chills up your spine. Jake knew it was turning you on, he wasn’t stupid. He knew your body and how it works and how to work it, he was using this to his advantage.

You leaned back into him, slightly turning your face so you could see him in your peripherals, “Jake, you know I only want you.” And it was true. You wanted only Jake. You loved him. Yeah, you got kinda flirty with Jay, but it wasn’t going anywhere, you kept turning down his advances and he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but that doesn’t mean Jake needs to kill him. You had to play Jake’s game and be in control, “Only you.”

Jake chuckles, sliding his hands to your inner thighs and spreading your legs, exposing your red panties to Jay. Jake took a quick glance at him, seeing his face turn red and his eyes widen. Jake didn’t just chuckle because of what you said, he was chuckling at you. He found it so cute that you think you’re the one in control, “I love watching you think you’re controlling me,” he licks at the shell of your ear, “You can’t play mind games with a serial killer, baby,” Chills went throughout your body as his fingers slid up to your core, “Nice try though.”

“Jake,” you gasped, clenching your fingers to the stool, his knuckle rubbing against your folds, “I truly only want you, I don’t want him.”

Ahh your words were music to his ears. Your voice so full of truth, and your cunt so wet for him. Only him, “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he whispers, “You’re going to pull the last few coins from my pocket and play this game here, got it?” You nod, slipping a hand into his jeans pocket and taking out the golden arcade coins, “Don’t put them in yet,” he licks another stripe up your ear, his thumb looping into your panties.

“What are you do—Jake!” you softly moaned his name, feeling the cool air hit your exposed cunt as he split your pussy lips open with his index and ring finger, the middle sliding up and down from your fuck hole to your clit and back down, “Jake, we’re in public,” you finally managed to say, eyes rushing back to Jay, seeing him dead staring.

“And?” he laughs, sliding his middle finger into your cunt, “We’re going to give him a show.”

You knew Jake was insane, knew something like this was nothing compared to the things he’s done, yet it still surprised you nevertheless that he had your legs spread and pussy out for another man to see.

Jake kept a firm grip on your thigh as his finger slowly pumped in and out of you, his eyes piercing at Jay. Jake kept eye contact as he flattened his tongue against the end of your neck and licked up and up until he reached just below your jaw, planting an open-mouthed kiss on that sweet spot. Jake loved how agitated Jay was getting. How he tried so hard to look away from the two of you but couldn’t. It was a mind game, one Jake was going to win.

But GOD you felt so good against his finger, so good he slipped his index and ring fingers in along with the middle, stretching your pussy. You moaned out, it being loud enough Jay was able to hear it from across the arcade, the tips of his ears turning red.

You clenched around Jake’s fingers and he hissed, his cock begging to be freed from the confinements of his jeans. He didn’t want to want any longer.

Jake lifted you off him, “Put the coins in the machine.” You listened, sliding the golden metal in one by one until the start-up screen loaded, “Now play the game.” You tried to focus on the start of it, but the sounds of Jake’s belt unlatching and zipper being pulled down, made it hard.

He spreads your pussy’s lips again, lining the tip to your entrance, “Slide down on me baby.”

Heat rises to your face cheeks, eyes darting around the arcade, Jay’s eyes being the only ones watching you, the only pair that even noticed what was happening in this corner. You slowly slid down onto Jake, him hissing out a soft “fuck,” when his tip kisses your cervix.

Jake squeezed your hips, thanking whatever little voice in your head that told you to wear a skirt today and making this so much easier on him and it is so fucking hot.

He bucked his hips up, not even giving you time to adjust to his size. You bit down on your lip as you played the game, trying to focus on the fight in front of you. Your palm squeezed the joystick so hard you were afraid you’d break it.

Fuck you felt so good wrapped around him. And it felt so good to fuck you in front of Jay, relishing in the look spread across Jay’s face and how tightly his jaw was locked. Jake just smirked, fucking into you harder and faster.

You couldn’t keep control of the game, eventually giving up and gripping onto the sides of the machine, trying with everything you had to not scream out in pleasure. Jake took this as an opportunity, him grabbing you by your neck and pushing you against his chest, his knees lifting up and spreading your legs further apart.

“You don’t know how badly I want to kill him,” he whispers in your ear, being so out of breath, “I can’t fucking stand how he was looking at you, looking at what’s mine,” The anger returned, the jealously. Fuck he was jealous. That was a first for him, “I want to kill him for looking at my girlfriend.”

Girlfriend. He called you his girlfriend. You clenched around him after hearing that, the pleasure washing over you tenfold at having that label.

“Hmmm fuck baby,” he groans, “keep clenching me like that and I’m going to spill into you.” You clenched again, not purposely, it just felt so fucking good to be fucked by your boyfriend, it felt good knowing he was jealous of another man to the point of wanting to kill for you. And maybe that made you just as crazy as him.

“Jake,” you softly moaned, forcing yourself to keep quiet.

Jake kisses your temple, “Moan my name louder, honey. Let our friend Jay over there know who you belong to, who is the only one that can make this pussy wet.” He bucked his hips harder, his skin slapping against your ass.

You moaned his name louder, making eye contact with Jay again.

“Fuck yes,” Jake smirks, “You’re so good for me.”

You clenched around him again, your climax fast approaching. Jake moans at how your walls hugged him, his arms wrapping around your body and holding you tightly to him as he fucked into you harder, fixing to burst, “Cum with me baby, oh fuck please cum with me.”

With his wishes, you both came together, him continuing to buck his hips slowly, mixing your cum together.

Jake leaned back against the wall, still holding you to his chest, smirking at Jay as he catches his breath, watching how his eyes go from your face and travel down to your cunt, watching the mixture of your and Jake’s cum leak from your hole.

You took deep breaths in, grabbing your skirt and pulling it down as far as you could, “Jae,”

Jake kissed your cheek, “Let’s go and meet up with Hoon now, ya?”

You nod, pulling him out and readjusting your panties and skirt as Jake fixes his jeans and then leaves the arcade with Jake’s chilling laughter echoing within the walls.

—

You sat at the edge of the bed, watching Jake sharpen his knife. He sat in the chair he usually kept his duffle bag and mask on, fully clothed in his Ghost Face attire, the mask resting at the top of his head. His brows furrowed in concentration, lifting the knife in front of his face and smirking at his work.

You wanted to ask him who he was planning on killing tonight, if it was someone you knew or a random person off the street. But you didn’t know if you actually wanted the answers to those questions, not knowing if Jake would even give you those answers. He glances at you then goes back to sharpening, “What are you thinking about?”

Shit. He caught you. You tried to find anything—literally anything—to come up with in a bullshit way to answer his question, your eyes falling onto the mask, “Why that mask specificity?” It was a real genuine question, you’ve always wondered it ever since the murders first started happening.

Jake smiles at you, “Why not this one?” he tosses the sharpening tool into his duffle, reaching up and sliding the mask down onto his face, “It’s scary, isn’t it?” You nodded but also shrugged. You weren’t scared of Jake, so seeing him fully in this outfit wasn’t affecting you. You couldn’t see, but he was grinning ear to ear underneath the mask, “It’s better with the voice mod,” he chuckles, flipping the switch on the voice changer, “It makes all the difference, doesn’t it, honey?”

Chills went down your back and you pressed your knees to your chest. The look on your face told Jake everything. He was right, it made a difference. If you didn’t know it was him beneath the mask you’d be terrified. His Aussie accent was no longer present and you couldn’t even tell it was his voice. No wonder his victims were always so scared.

Jake tilts his head at you, honestly getting hard at how scared you look. That look, that pretty and scared look on your face was what he wanted that night he tried to kill you. Oh, how time has passed since then. But he didn’t have time to reminisce about the past, he was running late for a killing date.

He stood from the chair, “You’re leaving already?”

Jake slides his gloves onto his hands, “Yes. I’ll be back soon.” You wouldn’t be able to get used to that ghost face voice.

You wanted him to stay home. It was the weekend and he BARELY spent the weekends with you. If he wasn’t off committing crimes, he was at soccer practice or with Sunghoon, or sticking himself in a study room at the library on campus to study. So you acted fast, not just in a way to stop him from ending someone else’s life, but to beg him to stay home.

“Jae,” you called his name, stepping in front of him, “Why don’t you stay home?”

He chuckles, adjusting the gloves and then flexing his fingers, “I have to go.” Jake was fucking crazy, he knew he was. He loved the thrill of the kill, the screams and blood and smells. It was intoxicating, almost like a drug.

Jake goes to step around you, but you keep blocking his path, “Stay home with me.”

He was getting irritated, “Move, honey, I am asking nicely.”

You shook your head, “Spend the weekend with me.”

Jake takes your chin between his fingers and pulls your face to the mask, “I won’t ask again, be a good girl and listen to me.”

You noticed he gripped the knife in his hand and could only imagine how pissed he must look underneath the mask. But you were desperate, wanting to find some way to keep him home, and what better way than to use your womanly charm? You pressed your breasts against his chest, knowing he could feel how braless you were under his favorite rock band tee shirt, “Please Jakey.”

He almost caved—almost—he slid his fingers from your chin down to your upper arm, ready to brush you out of his path, but your desperateness only pushed forward. You reached for the knife in the hope if you took it from him things would go your way and he’d stay home.

But you forgot for a solid second who it was you were dealing with.

You were now facing away from him, your back to his chest and knife pressed against your neck. Your eyes widened as you looked into the mirror in front of you. Seeing how his gloved hand pressed tightly to your stomach, how his head rested to the side of yours and his knife pressed to your throat. You swallowed, rubbing your thighs together.

“Ahh, it’s a sight to see isn’t it, honey? This is what you looked like the first time I held my knife to your pretty neck.” Jake was hard looking at you in the mirror with him pressed to you. It was one thing seeing you beneath him, but to see it in reflection? While he’s in his attire with the love of his life in front of him? It was even better than before.

“Is this what all your victims look like?” you whispered, placing your hands on his forearms, tilting your head back onto his shoulder, exposing more of your neck, “How it goes before you cut their throats open?”

Jake hums, “Yes, but seeing them like this never got me hard, not as you do.” He rubbed his clothed cock against your ass, “Fuck you get me so hard. I love the way my knife looks against your skin.”

You backed your ass against him, grinding on his cock, “Use it on me then.” what the fuck are you saying?

“Fuck don’t say things like that baby,” he tightened his grip on you, “Don’t say things like that to me.”

Jake would enjoy using his weapon on you, to cut you open and see how pretty you looked covered in blood, god it made his cock twitch. But he couldn’t do it, not at the risk of accidentally killing you. He loves you and can’t live without you. The risk wasn’t worth it.

You continued to rub against him, “Stay home with me.”

Fuck it.

He pushes you forward, forcing you to reach your hands out to lay flat against the mirror, your nose brushing against the cool glass, “You want me to stay home?” the voice mod hissed, his hand leaving your waist to pull the mask from his face, his eyes full of lust as they stared at you through the mirror. He tossed the mask to the bed, pressing his lips to your ear, “Want to be dicked down that badly?” you nod, the knife getting pressed tighter to your throat, “Use your fucking words.”

“Yes,” it came out in a loud moan, “I want you to stay home, to fuck me this whole weekend.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, pulling you off the mirror and back against his chest, “Let’s rid you of your clothes, yeah?”

Jake traced the tip of the knife down your throat and to the edge of his favorite band shirt, not giving a single damn that he cut into the fabric, slicing a line down to the middle, then using his hands to tear it apart, revealing your bare upper half, sliding the torn shirt to the floor.

The leather of his glove tickled when he placed his hand back to your waist, tracing the knife from your belly button up, moving it underneath your breasts, and circling them, slowly and carefully grazing your nipples. It made your core clench and the hair on your skin rise. Oh how badly he wanted to cut your skin, even if just a tiny bit, just to scratch that itch he’s been craving since day one. Deciding he was just going to do it.

But he was going to fuck you first.

Jake didn’t waste any more time and pulled your shorts and panties off your body and pressed you back against the mirror, ridding himself of his suit and other clothing, leaving you both bare, skin-to-skin.

Jake kicked your legs apart, a string of your slick connected both ends of your thighs, showing off how wet you already were for him. Jake licked his lips, scooping up your juices with two fingers and placing them into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around his digits. His body shuddered at your taste, cock twitching, needing to feel you.

He lifted your hips up, and slid inside you with ease, not being able to wait, and fucked into you. Pressing his hand down on your lower belly, feeling his thick length push in and out of your cunt, “Oh, fuck,” he moans, throwing his head back and fucking his hips harder. He was more sensitive right now, not knowing why or even really caring why. He doesn’t even care if he cums first, because he’s going to spend this entire night fucking you. Making you cum over and over and making him cum over and over. He’s going to spend the whole weekend with his cock buried inside you. Who gives a fuck about the people he could be killing when he can be balls deep in your pussy.

He pressed his hand against you harder, feeling more of himself move against your walls and squeezing tighter around him, “Baby, I’m gonna cum soon,” he flings his head forward, leaning it against yours as he looked at you in the mirror, seeing your fucked out expression, pupils blown out and mouth open and moaning out with each thrust he gave you, his knife sitting pretty against your neck, “Fuckkkkkk,” he moans, “I can’t hold it in.”

One final thrust and his cum painted your gummy walls white. Jake kissed your cheek, gently sliding the knife from your throat, down your shoulder, and stopping halfway on your upper arm. His hooded eyes lock with yours, asking for permission, but before you can even give it to him, he presses the metal into your skin, the crimson liquid slowly oozing from your body.

Jake bit his lips, slowly pulling his cock out to the tip, and ramming it back inside you, already ready for round two.

You were moaning louder this time, chanting out his name as your fingers gripped the mirror, feeling your blood streaming down your arm and onto the floor.

“Goddamn,” he hissed, cutting another wound below the first one, not being able to control himself, “You look so pretty bleeding out for me.”

Your brain went dizzy and you weren’t sure if it was from the loss of blood or from how good Jake was fucking you. It was probably both.

You released one hand from the mirror and cupped it to your arm, trying to stop what you could from it staining the carpet. But Jake’s thrusts were unrelenting, working faster than before and hitting your g-spot. The knot threatened to snap and it made you dizzier, almost losing your balance, forcing you to place your now bloody hand on the glass, leaving bloodied handprints.

“Jae,” you moaned his name, “Fixing to cum.”

Jake bit your ear softly, “Cum for me, honey.”

The pleasure of your release formed goosebumps on your skin, mixing with Jake’s previous cum.

You don’t know what came over you in the second, but you felt powerful. You had your boyfriend a cumming mess within minutes of him being inside you. You got him to stay home, to be with you. You were in control right now. You’ve taken over in the mind games.

You pushed yourself off from the mirror, forcing Jake out of your hole and stumbling back. You were quick to whip around, your hands finding home on his chest and pushing him to the bed, forcing him to sit on the edge as you climbed into his lap, sliding your cunt back down onto him.

Jake was in heaven, feeling pure bliss as how quickly you dominated over him. He was a turn on, for sure, but he wouldn’t let you catch him off guard like that again, accepting your win.

Jake was even more surprised to feel your bloodied hand gripping his jaw and his knife in your other hand being pressed to his throat. How did you get it out of his hand? And when did you do it?

You smirked down at him, “What’s wrong Jaeyun?”

Oh, FUCK.

Jake’s hands found their home on your waist, pulling at you to start moving, “Ride my cock and maybe I’ll tell you.”

You leaned closer to him, pressing the knife closer like how he’s done to you. His cock twitched, begging to be ridden. You click your tongue, “Does it turn on the killer to see his girlfriend turn his weapon against him? To have you like fucking putty in my hands?”

He didn’t understand how this happened, but god was he relishing in it.

Jake could easily turn the tides. Could flip you over and take the knife back and fuck you senseless. But he was enjoying this too much, letting you think you still had full control.

“Baby,” he whispered, lifting up and placing a kiss on your lips, “Please ride my cock, I need to feel you.”

You honestly loved seeing your little killer beg for your sex, it was a power move and boosted your ego. You rocked your hips, taking the point of the knife and pressing it up to the bottom of his chin. This was exciting, no wonder he enjoyed knife play with you.

But alas, your power move eventually faded as you lost yourself on his cock, the knife was now tossed somewhere in the room. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, and the other behind him to keep balance as he fucked his hips up into you at the same motion of you fucking on him. Your bloody hand prints now covered him: his face, shoulder, neck, chest, all over his back and bicep. Everywhere. The wounds on your arm finally clotted and crusted over, no longer spilling.

You came again and then Jake a few seconds after you. But he wasn’t done with you yet, picking you up in his strong arms and carrying you further onto the bed, laying your head on the pillows and placing your legs over his shoulders, “I love you.”

You cupped his face, “I love you too.”

Jake was true to his word when he swore he’d fuck you until you both came over and over and over again until the overstimulation was too much, cumming once more, then falling asleep in each other's arms.

You woke up that next morning with bandages on your arm and in fresh clean clothes. The bedsheets were stripped from the bed and a blanket was covering you. The blood from the mirror was now gone, and Jake was on the floor at the end of the bed doing what it looked like scrubbing your strained blood out of the carpet. You smiled, quickly closing your eyes and falling back to sleep, never in your life have you felt so safe in the presence of a serial killer.

—

You winced in pain as you dropped yourself onto the couch, your legs completely sore.

Jake chuckles from the kitchen as he prepares lunch for you both, “You okay in there, my love?” You peek over the couch, glaring at him, “Don’t look at me like that,” he says sweetly, “You’re the one who wanted me to fuck you until you couldn’t walk the entire weekend.”

Jake stayed true to absolutely destroying your cunt the entire weekend. Man has some STAMINA, that’s for sure. Any chance he got, he was balls deep inside you. You just tried to enjoy a nice warm shower, was halfway through when Jake pulls the curtains back and stepped in, immediately pinning you against the wall and fucking you until you couldn’t stand. You couldn’t complain though, you got him the entire weekend to yourself.

The only thing that sucked was going back to classes tomorrow, meaning you’d have to share him again with everyone.

“I didn’t think you’d actually make it where I could barely walk.”

Jake just smiles, “What can I say, I love my girl weak in the knees for me.”

You made a fake laugh at his joke but still smiled brightly. You reached for the remote and turned the TV on, flipping through channels until a quick scene of the news was on, catching your attention and forcing you to go back.

“Yesterday evening, two bodies were found near a dumpster on the south side of the campus—“

“Jake,” you called for him, “Come in here.”

Jake stood behind you, leaning his body against the back of the couch, “What’s up?”

You point to the TV, “The two bodies have been identified as a young couple, we were last seen walking the campus, heading to the dorms—“The camera pans to the crime scene, their dead bodies being covered up by white tarps and police and investigators surrounding the area, one of the policemen pulling something out of the dumpster, your breath hitched “—a ghost face mask has been found at the scene of the crime—“

You whip around to look at Jake, “What the fuck Jake?!” but as soon as you yelled at him, you realized the look on his face.

He was livid.

“I’ve been with you the entire fucking weekend,” he snapped, “I didn’t do this.”

You faced back to the TV, watching the rest of the news coverage, “If it wasn’t you, then who did it?”

Jake pushed himself from the couch, ruffling his hands in his hair, pacing back and forth, “I don’t fucking know, but whoever they are, they are a fucking imposter!”

Jake was angry for more than one reason:

1: Whoever the fuck this person is, they fucked up so hard by leaving their mask at the scene. 2: They were trying to impersonate him. 3: WHY THE FUCK ARE THEY IMPERSONATING HIM?!

You stared at the TV screen, trying to process everything. Jake noticed it, how quiet you were, getting scared you were doubting him. So he rushed to you, kneeling before you and taking your face in his hands, “Honey. I promise you it wasn’t me. I’ve been here with you the whole weekend.”

You nodded. You knew he was here with you. He didn’t leave your side because he was too busy burning his cock in you. It just didn’t make sense. The last Ghost Face killing was about two weeks ago the same night Jake fucked you in the arcade. It was some random guy Jake happened to pass on a late-night walk to clear his head to not go back to the arcade and kill Jay. Jake has been clean since then.

Jake looked back to the TV, gritting his teeth, “I swear to—“ then his phone started ringing. The vibrations made his skin crawl.

He pulled his phone from his pocket, seeing Unknown Caller on the screen.

Jake looked up at you, and it was the first time you saw a small hint of fear in his eyes.

He accepted the call, placing the device to his ear.

“Hello, Jake.”

His eyes widened, hearing the voice changer nod that he uses on the other side of his call, “Who the fuck is this?”

“Hahaha, you don’t seem surprised that I know your secret?”

Jake stood up, quickly glancing around the room, “Why would I be? You’re playing the exact same game I do.”

Whoever this was, they knew Jake’s secret. Studied him. Knows how he kills and even the exact mask brand he wears. If this person was playing Jake’s game, then being in this apartment was no longer safe. Because they were already watching, already listening.

They laughed again, “Did you like the news? I did it special, just for you.”

“Go to hell!” Jake barked.

“Oh, but I’d see you there,” they chuckled, “I very much rather just send you there.”

Jake was tired of these games, “What do you want?” he clenched his fist, “You wanna be the sequel so damn bad don’t you?”

Silence, but then, “What do you think it is I want?”

“To be a shitty ass ghost face, but news flash, you’re already doing that.”

“I’d watch your tone, Jake Sim. It’d be a shame for something to happen to our precious little YN / YLN, wouldn’t it?” Jake’s heart stopped, “Check your texts.”

Jake removed the phone from his ear, clicking on the newly received texts. The first one was a photo of you at the college in the journal room looking over the corkboard. The second text was a video of you from the bedroom, the curtains were slightly drawn back and you were lifting your shirt off your body, revealing yourself in a black laced bra, and then the video cut off. The third and final text that came through, was a photo of both Jake and you on the couch yesterday morning, both naked as you rode his dick.

He pressed the phone back to his ear, “I swear to fucking god if you touch her.”

More laughter, “Maybe you should keep her closer and double check to make sure all windows are closed next time if you don’t want others seeing your…activities.”

Jake pulled you off from the couch, holding you close to him and repeating, “What. The. Fuck. Do. You. Want.”

They clicked their tongue, “You’ll know soon enough. Goodbye, Ghost Face.” Then the line went dead.

Jake tossed his phone across the room, pulling you to his chest tightly, teeth gritting.

“I’m going to fucking kill whoever that is, and I won’t let them hurt you.”

For the first time, you were genuinely scared. And so was Jake. He wasn’t scared of this imposter, he was scared of what they’d do to you.

And he won’t stop at nothing until they are six feet under.

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