drop a heart, break a name :: response to the open challege: wishbone, intersections, sharing
Title: drop a heart, break a name
Author: dbdbyeah
Word Count: 817 words
Concrit?: yes, please. (like, for real)
Pairing: yoochun / ofc *le gasp*, yoochun / yunho
Rating: PG15
A/N: beta'd by ianinna unni because i fail at life. dedicated to her, too, coz she put up with this fic even if it wasn't exactly her cup of tea. ILUSM. ♥ and also to fallout boy for the title. ♥ fic has some implied het!smex and very messed up writing. mianhe~ (for the messed up writing. *dodges flying daggers*)
Yoochun was the luckiest man on earth. He had the looks and the talent, the perfect job and the perfect house - in the perfect neighborhood with the perfect neighbors.
And he was also the happiest man on earth.
He was in love.
-
They met at the coffee shop just outside Yoochun’s apartment building. It was very early in the morning (not the best part of Yoochun’s day) and there were too many people (too much noise) in Yoochun’s opinion.
Surprisingly, other than the insane line to the counter, the coffee shop was fairly spacey inside. No one had enough time to spend sitting down anymore - something Yoochun found rather unfortunate but, a workaholic should never be one to talk.
Yoochun made a bee line for the corner table. It was small. It was secluded. It was perfect for Yoochun.
Apparently, it was perfect for someone else, too.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” The girl said shyly. “Did you want this table?”
I did. Yoochun thought. And I think I want it more, now. “It’s okay. We can share,” a blush fought its way through the girl’s cheeks and won. “…if you don’t mind.”
“No.”
She went to sit down.
“…not at all.”
And so did he.
They met again (and again) under dim lights and secret phone calls. Yoochun explained it to be something that had to do with his job, his family, and his father who was a bigger asshole than he was (which said a lot - but she didn’t know that just yet).
It was hard for her to understand at first. But she stopped minding after a night or two - then more - spent in Yoochun’s arms, smothered with his kisses.
-
He was surprised to find himself staying over more than he should. She was becoming a habit, and was slowly turning into an addiction.
She provided a different kind of warmth from what he was used to. She didn’t demand anything, she didn’t ask about anything, and she was always there (- never gone, never away).
There were nights when he would knock on her door and stumble in, drunk. She took him in with a caring smile and a warm towel - still, she didn’t ask the whys or the hows he expected from her.
-
He reeked of alcohol and broken promises, but she would kiss him anyway. She never hesitated, not once. She was always open for him - heart, mind and body (completely). And her soul was bared for him to take - to take advantage of, take for granted, tear down and off.
And he did. But she never minded.
-
On a particularly bad night, Yoochun clutched on to her hips for dear life. They both knew it was going to leave marks - she felt the pain and he felt the pressure - but they kept going, rocking each other into oblivion.
She was panting, moaning, screaming Yoochun’s name (begging for him to break her). He drove harder into her each and every time until he reached his peak, and he couldn’t help but scream, too.
Somebody else’s name rolled off of his tongue.
And just as she had wanted, she was broken.
-
She hated how weak she was when it came to Yoochun.
Last time was supposed to be the last time; she wasn’t supposed to let him get to her anymore. But he begged (he never begged) and he was crying - and all she wanted to do was hold him again (and again, like before) until he stopped.
He never stopped. He cried in her arms the entire time. She held him, whispering sweet words to cover the painful ones that came with his sobs. Yoochun was apologizing, begging for him to take him back, and, Oh.
-
This time was the last time, that was what she promised herself as they kissed. It was hungry and desperate, filled with so much need and glazed with pleasure under pressure.
This was the last time.
She was going to ask him never to come back. She was going to push him away, pull him back in for another kiss, then cry and beg for him to stop. She was going to drive him crazy (almost as much as he was), and she was going to curse him for doing so.
She was going to put an end to it (with a kiss - the last one.)
But instead it ended with I love you, a goodbye, and a plea for another chance that was never going to be given.
It was the last time.
And it hurt.
-
Yunho was the luckiest man on earth.
He had the fame and the money, the perfect life in and out of the spotlight - in the perfect house with the perfect man.
And they were in love.
-
(All she had was the memory of Yoochun’s tears.
And it hurt.
But it was enough.)
Author: dbdbyeah
Word Count: 817 words
Concrit?: yes, please. (like, for real)
Pairing: yoochun / ofc *le gasp*, yoochun / yunho
Rating: PG15
A/N: beta'd by ianinna unni because i fail at life. dedicated to her, too, coz she put up with this fic even if it wasn't exactly her cup of tea. ILUSM. ♥ and also to fallout boy for the title. ♥ fic has some implied het!smex and very messed up writing. mianhe~ (for the messed up writing. *dodges flying daggers*)
Yoochun was the luckiest man on earth. He had the looks and the talent, the perfect job and the perfect house - in the perfect neighborhood with the perfect neighbors.
And he was also the happiest man on earth.
He was in love.
-
They met at the coffee shop just outside Yoochun’s apartment building. It was very early in the morning (not the best part of Yoochun’s day) and there were too many people (too much noise) in Yoochun’s opinion.
Surprisingly, other than the insane line to the counter, the coffee shop was fairly spacey inside. No one had enough time to spend sitting down anymore - something Yoochun found rather unfortunate but, a workaholic should never be one to talk.
Yoochun made a bee line for the corner table. It was small. It was secluded. It was perfect for Yoochun.
Apparently, it was perfect for someone else, too.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” The girl said shyly. “Did you want this table?”
I did. Yoochun thought. And I think I want it more, now. “It’s okay. We can share,” a blush fought its way through the girl’s cheeks and won. “…if you don’t mind.”
“No.”
She went to sit down.
“…not at all.”
And so did he.
They met again (and again) under dim lights and secret phone calls. Yoochun explained it to be something that had to do with his job, his family, and his father who was a bigger asshole than he was (which said a lot - but she didn’t know that just yet).
It was hard for her to understand at first. But she stopped minding after a night or two - then more - spent in Yoochun’s arms, smothered with his kisses.
-
He was surprised to find himself staying over more than he should. She was becoming a habit, and was slowly turning into an addiction.
She provided a different kind of warmth from what he was used to. She didn’t demand anything, she didn’t ask about anything, and she was always there (- never gone, never away).
There were nights when he would knock on her door and stumble in, drunk. She took him in with a caring smile and a warm towel - still, she didn’t ask the whys or the hows he expected from her.
-
He reeked of alcohol and broken promises, but she would kiss him anyway. She never hesitated, not once. She was always open for him - heart, mind and body (completely). And her soul was bared for him to take - to take advantage of, take for granted, tear down and off.
And he did. But she never minded.
-
On a particularly bad night, Yoochun clutched on to her hips for dear life. They both knew it was going to leave marks - she felt the pain and he felt the pressure - but they kept going, rocking each other into oblivion.
She was panting, moaning, screaming Yoochun’s name (begging for him to break her). He drove harder into her each and every time until he reached his peak, and he couldn’t help but scream, too.
Somebody else’s name rolled off of his tongue.
And just as she had wanted, she was broken.
-
She hated how weak she was when it came to Yoochun.
Last time was supposed to be the last time; she wasn’t supposed to let him get to her anymore. But he begged (he never begged) and he was crying - and all she wanted to do was hold him again (and again, like before) until he stopped.
He never stopped. He cried in her arms the entire time. She held him, whispering sweet words to cover the painful ones that came with his sobs. Yoochun was apologizing, begging for him to take him back, and, Oh.
-
This time was the last time, that was what she promised herself as they kissed. It was hungry and desperate, filled with so much need and glazed with pleasure under pressure.
This was the last time.
She was going to ask him never to come back. She was going to push him away, pull him back in for another kiss, then cry and beg for him to stop. She was going to drive him crazy (almost as much as he was), and she was going to curse him for doing so.
She was going to put an end to it (with a kiss - the last one.)
But instead it ended with I love you, a goodbye, and a plea for another chance that was never going to be given.
It was the last time.
And it hurt.
-
Yunho was the luckiest man on earth.
He had the fame and the money, the perfect life in and out of the spotlight - in the perfect house with the perfect man.
And they were in love.
-
(All she had was the memory of Yoochun’s tears.
And it hurt.
But it was enough.)