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#and you never know when the next one's going to start
yusiyomogi · 3 days
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i actually think there's some significance in the fact that mithrun wears oversized shirt with open collar (it most likely belongs to laios) in the final arc of the manga. i mean, not just that kui simply wanted to draw him in oversized clothes, lol.
in all instances we see young (pre-dungeon) mithrun he's wearing clothes that hide his body as much as possible. which seems normal, until you see what other elves prefer to wear: most of them wear light short tunics with no sleeves and they don't usually even wear pants. here's a comparison to his brother's outfit, for example, as they stand next to each other.
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it's not like his fashion choices are unique, but it certainly feels deliberate. he doesn't add any variation to his canary's uniform either, but that's not especially notable, i guess, because a lot of canaries don't do that (i mean, it's still their armor).
but in his perfect world he's also one of the few who always wears this type of clothes. never revealing himself. sitting a little further from everyone else.
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he even lies in his bed fully clothed, like he can't ever bring himself to let his guard down, never showing his "true" skin to anyone.
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btw notice that his bed is a single bed, even though he's been living with his partner for 5 years at that point.
and that's the idea, isn't it? he never lets himself be truly vulnerable with anyone, even in his dungeon, where people are supposed to like him unconditionally. i think it adds something to the horrible scene with the demon: it's especially disturbing that the demon literally doesn't care how much of yourself you wanna hide, it sees (and eats) right through every protective layer. and we all know what the allegory of this scene is.
when mithrun loses all his desires, he no longer cares what clothes he wears. and in some twisted metaphorical sense it's heartbreaking to see him in a simple elven tunic when he's recovering, the one that doesn't hide any of his injuries or scars or terrible physique.
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he doesn't care to hide himself anymore, but it isn't on his own volition. it's something that was ripped away from him, as well as his privacy (a lot of people have to go through this when they're in medical care actually).
when he recovers and enlists to canaries again, he starts to wear full uniform again, but i don't think it holds much significance to him anymore. or at least he thinks it doesn't. we can see that cithis forces him to wear frilly dress at some point and it's implied that he goes along with it (cithis is still an asshole for that btw).
at this point he's fully focused on finding the demon, but i think the sad reality is that he's always been capable of developing new desires. i'd argue that there are already some things he cares about without realizing it, in the main story. but what's stopping him from actually realizing it at that point is that he's clinically depressed. his disability makes his life difficult; he lives with the idea that he's completely "broken", he accepted the reality of living like that and always goes along with what others make him do. so, he doesn't believe in his own privacy anymore. it’s actually something kabru talks about in the adventurer’s bible comic, when he tries to help mithrun to figure it out again, to help him see the value of privacy, of choosing what he wanna reveal of himself. mithrun needed a reminder that he still has this choice like anybody else.
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i think the scene where kabru asks him about his past for the first time is interesting in that sense. first of all, i like the symbolism of kabru unbuttoning mithrun’s collar and cuffs, revealing the scars underneath (a good amount of them is self-inflicted). he does so unthinkingly, but in his defence he doesn't know anything about mithrun yet. another interesting thing is that the first reaction mithrun has is covering his eyes with his hands. he's trying to hide. he supposedly has no desire to hide, but this reaction is almost instinctual to him. i think kabru notices this as well (of course he does) and i think it's one of the things that prompts him to voice his concerns about mithrun's privacy later. 
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so, what about that laios' shirt he wears in the final arc of the comic? he has to change his uniform's shirt for something else because it's covered in spider's guts. it's unclear if someone puts laios' shirt on him or if it's something he chooses to wear himself. regardless, it's still symbolic for his change. it's not particularly revealing or anything, but it's different from the type of clothes he usually wears, and it's tallman clothes. and in this final arc we can see a lot of his true feelings as well. he's visibly mad at kabru, he shows concern and tries to help marcille, he helps kabru to break out of his spiral. and obviously, in chapter 94 he reveals a lot of what he actually feels and think and shows genuine emotions other than anger. and I think it’s the first time he decided to be open and vulnerable on his own volition, probably in his entire life.
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we can see him wearing variety of clothes post-canon and it’s ambiguous how much of it he picked for himself. pattadol probably helps him a lot with choosing outfits and she also prefers high collars. but mithrun knows he can choose now; even if he doesn’t want anything in particular, he always can express his opinion or feeling, like he did with kabru’s food. he always can choose how much he wants to be seen. i’m just glad to see him wearing similar shirt with open collar and rolled-up sleeves on the cover of daydream hour book.
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arieslost · 2 days
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reader and little leclerc meeting at a karting comp when they were tiny and growing up charles developed the fattest crush on the reader but only later in his f1 career does she find out. not from charles himself but from carlos who ‘accidentally’ slips up and mentions it
i’m assuming by little leclerc u meant arthur so i hope i was correct 🤞🏼🤞🏼
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
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crush | cl16
you always thought charles leclerc had some sort of underlying hatred for you, even though he was nothing but kind to you every time you interacted. maybe it was the way he’d always look at you with what you could only describe as a pained expression, like it hurt to even be in your presence.
not that he had much choice, considering you’d been racing with his brother arthur since the beginning of time.
it never evolved into a career for you, but having formed such a close bond with arthur, as well as the rest of the leclercs, you stuck around. you remained a close friend even after arthur was promoted to single seater racing and you never left karting, not until their father passed and you dedicated all of your time and effort to comforting the family and helping however you could. eventually, that evolved into you working for ferrari in pr and other various communications a year after charles signed to ferrari.
wherever a leclerc was, you were bound to follow.
which leads you to now, having landed in imola a few days before most of the team (including the drivers) to coordinate interviews, filming, photography… the list is endless sometimes, but you love your job. even more so when you’re given the privilege of briefing the drivers on what to expect for the day.
except for the fact that charles comes in and sits down without sparing you so much as a fleeting glance.
that’s how your suspicions had started— when he stopped looking you in the eye. it used to be you who was intimidated by eye contact, those green eyes of his never failing to make your cheeks heat up. but eventually you got over it, and one day you fixed him with a brave stare that left him unable to mask his surprise. and then he stopped looking at you. then the incoherent mumbling started, then the abrupt “i have to go” in the middle of a conversation. you never understood why he was acting the way he was. you still don’t.
“good morning, querida,” carlos greets you smoothly as he enters the room, and you swear you see charles’ brows furrow for a split second.
“good morning,” you smile at him, chancing a look at charles, who is still deeply engrossed in whatever’s on his phone. “there’s a decent amount of things i want to go over with you guys, so i really need you to pay attention.”
you went through the itinerary, pausing every now and then to make sure both drivers were paying attention. charles had shut off his phone, but he was still looking anywhere else but at you. when you caught his eye upon glancing upwards, he looked down at his lap like you had told him he massively screwed something up.
you’ve often thought about confronting him, but to be honest, you could never really come up with a solid reason to do so. if he didn’t want to look at you, that was more his problem than it was yours.
“okay, i think that’s all i have for—” you’re not even finished with your sentence before charles is uttering a hasty “thanks” and rushing out the door.
“you’d think he would’ve caved and told you by now,” carlos muses when the door clicks shut, shaking his head.
“told me what?”
“you know,” carlos begins, rising from his seat, “that he’s madly in love with you.”
“what?!” you exclaim.
“oh, dear,” he continues dryly. “did i say that out loud?”
“carlos sainz, so help me—”
“you’ll have to excuse me, i don’t want to be late to the media pen,” he interrupts, making to leave as well. “i suggest confronting him, that’s probably the only way to get him to talk.”
your opportunity comes after the free practice sessions the next day, where you manage to corner charles as he’s leaving his driver room.
“is it true? do you—” you want to say love me, but the words just won’t come out. they feel too intimate. “do you have feelings for me, charles?”
he opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to respond. “you won’t look at me, you barely talk to me anymore, and it feels like you hate me. so honestly, just tell me anything other than saying you hate me.”
“i don’t hate you,” he says immediately. “not at all— why don’t you come in so we can talk? i don’t want to have this conversation knowing someone with a camera could come around the corner.”
fair point. you allow him to guide you into his driver room, watching as he shuts the door behind him.
“who told you?” he asks.
“carlos. in a weird, unnecessarily cryptic way.”
“classic carlos,” charles huffs, raking a hand through his hair.
“is it true?” you repeat quietly, beginning to fear his answer.
he looks at you. “what if it was?”
“charles—”
he interrupts you now. “i can’t look at you because every time i do i think about how much i want you. i look at you and i wish more than anything that i could hold you, kiss you, make you laugh. things just haven’t been the same since… since papa.”
you reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly in your own.
“and eventually i just couldn’t talk to you, because if i did, everything i want to say would come out… like it is right now,” he smiles shyly.
you never thought you could make charles leclerc shy.
“anyway, i like you. a lot.” he declares, taking on a confident tone. “i’ve had a crush on you for a while, and i’m sorry that it manifested as something else. i don’t expect you to forgive me.”
“maybe…” you begin slowly, watching his eyes light up. “maybe you could take me out.”
he smiles widely, squeezing your hand. “i think i can make that happen.”
“good. i’ll be waiting for your call.” you lean up, pressing a brave kiss to his cheek before exiting the room.
the blush creeping over his cheeks stays imprinted on your mind for the rest of the day. it won’t be the last time you see him that way.
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word count: 1,041
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note: this was such a cute request. i hate the ending (when do i not, honestly) so if this flops it’s fully my fault
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wavesmp3 · 3 days
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young & stupid
yoon jeonghan x reader (gender neutral)
you think yoon jeonghan is crazy when he asks if you'll pretend to date him, but luckily for him you're just young and dumb enough to agree.
genre: university + fake dating au word count: 14k warnings: alcohol, profanity, some explicit content, mentions of sex, and a very american writer who says soccer instead of football a/n: posted an unfinished version of this like 4 years ago and randomly decided one day a couple weeks ago to finish it. this is the most indulgent fic i have ever written. pls enjoy my birthday gift to myself lolol
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Music bursts from every corner of the run-down frat house, chasing after you no matter where you run to escape it. Bodies endlessly spill in from the patio and front entrance, a never ending revolving door of college kids just like yourself looking for some kind of release after a long week of… well, college. But unlike most times you’ve paid a visit to Soonyoung’s frat house on a Friday night, tonight you’ve already decided that you are not going to be having fun at this party.
Soonyoung begged you to come, bribing your appearance with a promise to study with you for the next math quiz. Of course the first thing he does after walking into the house with you is ditch you. But even that, you deal with. You find some friends among the crowd, acquaint yourself with some beer, and almost start to have fun egging on a brewing dance battle. But all that ends the second you turn a corner too fast and are met with a full cup of bright red jungle juice all over your white shirt.
So now, upstairs in a bathroom Soonyoung let you in to, desperately trying to wash out the stains, you make a stubborn decision to not make another appearance at a frat party for the rest of the semester which you’re positive you’ll break by the time midterms are up.
But for now, helplessly staring at your reflection in the dirty mirror, you arrive to the conclusion that this damn jungle juice stain is not coming out. You exit the bathroom into the adjoining room and start grabbing your stuff to walk home.
“Who the fuck are you?” You jump at the voice that’s joined you in the room. You hadn’t even noticed anyone entering. You stare at the figure, mouth open. “How’d you get into my room?”
“Oh my gosh, so sorry,” you apologize in a hurried voice, packing your things up impossibly faster. “Soonyoung let me in. It was just supposed to be a quick thing–Wait no, that makes it sound like we were hooking up. Which we definitely were not. I can promise you that much, lol, not Soonyoung. But no, I just needed the bathroom. Cause this dude and his jungle juice, and…” you look down at your shirt. “Anyways, I was about to go home. I didn’t even–”
“Okay, wait, slow down.” The guy cuts you off. “You know Soonyoung.”
You nod. “Uh, yeah, we’re friends.”
He steps closer, narrowing his eyes at you, and for a moment you think the guy looks a little bit familiar. “And you’re not a stalker?”
This time you squint, jutting your head forward. “A stalker?” He stares at you unwavering. You scoff. “Um. No. Of course not.”
“Oh, okay, good.” He exhales, his previous demeanor falling entirely. “Well, in that case, let me help.” He walks towards one of the dressers, pulling the drawer open to rummage through it.
“No. That’s okay. You don’t have to–”
“Let me. Plus,” he gestures towards the general direction of your shirt without looking up from the drawer, “that can’t be comfortable. And it definitely isn’t flattering.”
You’re too stunned to say anything back. You’re not sure how you’d respond anyways to what you think counts as an insult from the dude who’s also helping you. You study him instead. You’ve definitely seen him around before, but you’re not entirely sure where or when because you probably would’ve remembered someone as attractive as him. He’s tall, soft-faced with longer hair that cuts off right under his ears, and damn is he attractive. In an obvious—in your face, weak in the knees, god this man is beautiful—kind of way. Not that you notice.
“Here.” He throws a tshirt your way, and you catch it between your arms. You both stare at each for a long moment, until he jumps on his heels a little as if he’s suddenly remembered something. “My bad, I’ll turn around.”
You stare unamused at his backside. He really doesn’t think you’re going to change with him in the room does he?
And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he says: “Don’t worry, I won’t peek.” He looks over his shoulder with a crooked, mischievous smile. “I mean unless you want me to.” Your stomach throws itself out the window.
You scoff. “I’ll just change in the bathroom.” You fully expect the guy to be gone by the time you exit the bathroom, but instead he’s still there, sitting at the edge of the bed on his phone.
You clear your throat. “Thanks for the shirt.”
“Oh, yeah,” he looks up from his phone and takes you in. You swear his mouth twitches into a half smile. “It’s no big deal.
You let out an awkward half laugh, half sigh. “So, I’ll get this shirt back to you somehow. Thanks again.”
He nods, still staring at the air around your body with that sickeningly charming half smile. You turn for the door.
“Wait!” You pause, facing the boy again who is now standing up, arm stretched out towards you. He drops it at once like it was never supposed to be there. “Are you going back to the party?”
You actually laugh at that. “God, no. I’m going home.”
“Oh.” He tilts his head, and then opens and closes his mouth as if the words keep getting lost in the back of his throat. You try not to think too hard about how endearing the action is. “I can give you a ride if you want.”
You shake your head quickly. “No, that’s alright. I don’t live that far.” You live on the opposite side of campus.
He grabs a set of keys off his desk. “Let me. I wanna get out of this party too. But sadly,” he motions to the room you’re both standing in, then leans towards you a little, “I live here.”
And you know you should refuse. You know there is nothing sensical about letting this stranger, whose name you don’t even know, take you home. But there’s something about his smile and the tufts of hair falling over his forehead, something about the way he gave you his shirt that makes you say yes against your better judgment.
It turns out, leaving the party with the mysteriously nice guy, who’s conveniently hot (again, not that you’re looking), is much harder than it looks. The only plus side to getting bombarded with people wanting to talk to him, is that you learn his name: Jeonghan. And it hits you then, of course you’ve seen him around before. Well, maybe not him, but you’ve definitely seen his picture. His face is plastered over all of the university’s promotional material. Half the school has a crush on Jeonghan, the star soccer player. Unfortunately for you and your apparently impossible wish to go home, it also appears that half the school is at this party and fueled with liquid confidence.
“Hey Jeonghan,” one person in particular slurs, appearing in front of you and him magically. Yeah, you think, if I were him I’d want to get out of this party too. Then as if the stranger has come to their senses, they jump back and clasp their hands over their mouth. A blush paints itself all over their face. “So sorry. I must’ve tripped or something…” they laugh awkwardly. Jeonghan does too. You look over at him and find that he looks incredibly uncomfortable.
“It’s fine,” he tells them, holding his hands up, “I gotta go. See you around though.” And Jeonghan’s turning on his heel ready to dash for the door.
“Wait a second!” The person calls, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm before he can slip out of the house. He turns back around begrudgingly. “I was uh I was sort of wondering if you’d like to maybe go out or something—“
You watch them ask out Jeonghan on a date, and well, it’s sort of cute. The stranger clearly harbors a massive crush on Jeonghan. They’re not being rude or pushy, and honestly, even after accounting for the alcohol, they’re more confident and bold than you’d be. You find yourself wanting to congratulate them. But then, with another look at Jeonghan’s face, you feel a burst of pity. You know that look. Jeonghan is going to turn them down.
“I, uh, I’m really flattered but I…” Jeonghan stutters through his words, shooting you a glance asking for help. You just shrug. Suddenly his smirk reappears. He grabs your hand, pulling you to his slide and lifting your joined hands up like a trophy. “I’m actually with them.”
Your teeth clench immediately to keep your mouth from falling open. You stare at Jeonghan, eyes screaming.
“Oh sorry,” the person looks between the two of you, “I didn’t know.”
You stare at Jeonghan, waiting for him to say something and failing to find any words for yourself. But instead of continuing his lie verbally, he decides to act it out even further, bringing your hands up to his lips and pressing the faintest kiss to your knuckle.
That fucker.
“Yeah,” you sigh, grasping at straws for something to say that sounds convincing with your one free hand. “It’s new.” You squeeze Jeonghan’s hand hard enough to know it has to have hurt and promptly drag him out of the house.
Once you’re in his car, safe from all his suitors. You round on him. “You couldn’t have just said no?”
“That was their third time asking me out.”
“And?”
“Turning down people is hard.” He whines, pushing the keys in the car and starting the ignition. “It was just easier to say we’re dating. Plus, you’re in my shirt so it already looks like we just had sex.”
“Or,” you gasp, exasperated, “it looks like I got jungle juice on my shirt, and you just gave me one to wear!”
He gives you a look. “Now, who would believe that?”
You have the sudden desire to dissolve into the seat.
“Anyways,” he says, putting the car in reverse, “where to?”
“East campus. The Austin Complex.”
He makes a triumphant noise while stopping at a red light. “It appears I’m not the only one that’s been telling lies tonight. Not that far you said.”
You gape at him. “My lie is not comparable to yours.”
“Actually I think it is.” He taps a finger to his chin. “In fact, I think it even makes us equal.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
He holds out his pinky as a peace offering. “I’m not moving until you agree.”
“Jeonghan, the light’s green.”
He glances at the green traffic light and proceeds to turn his hazards on in the middle of the fucking road all while keeping his pinky in the exact same spot.
“Are you crazy?”
“Most people don’t think so.”
“People will honk.”
“It’s 1 am.”
You say his name. He says yours. The light turns yellow, and you feel a rush of warmth.
“Fine.” You huff, joining your pinky with his. “We’re equal.”
He passes the light just as it turns red.
You haven’t seen Jeonghan since the entire incident. In truth, you’ve been so busy studying for your math quiz with Soonyoung that you almost hadn’t even thought about that night again. Emphasis on almost. However, when you get your score back the following week, the hours you spent studying appear to have been wasted. You slump into a bench outside the lecture hall, holding another barely passing grade to your chest.
And in the midst of your public wallowing, you feel a flick to your forehead.
You yelp and snap your eyes open to Jeonghan who stands before you snickering. “What was that for?”
“Payback.”
You say holding out your pinky as a reminder. “I thought we were even.” He shrugs, sporting a smirk that makes your stomach churn. It should be illegal for someone to look that good with a smirk.
“Excuse me?”
Fuck. Did you say that outloud?
“Nothing.” You quickly mutter, shaking your head. He invites himself to sit down next to you.
“Anyway, what’s wrong with you?”
You groan at the reminder. “Multi.”
“Multivariable calculus?” He asks to which you nod. “Who do you have?”
“Lubinsky.”
Defying all laws of reason and physics, Jeonghan perks up a bit. “Oh, I loved him.”
“His quizzes are impossible.”
“Yeah, but he’s funny.”
You scrunch your noise. “When did you even take multi? Aren’t you a business major?”
He tilts his head at you. “How do you know my major?” You might’ve asked Soonyoung about Jeonghan during one of your study sessions, but you definitely weren’t about to admit that now. Luckily for you, he continues without an answer. “I switched majors last year.”
“Then you must know how much I despise sketching in three axes.” You complain, throwing your head back against the wall.
“Just wait until you get to finding extrema.” Jeonghan hums. You want to shove your head through the damn wall just from the sound of it.
“May my grade rest in peace in that case,” you mutter, fishing through your bag. “Here’s your shirt back.”
He takes it. “So people kind of think we’re dating after the party.”
You can’t help it. You laugh at the look on his face. “Yeah, what did you expect when you said we were together?” He doesn’t say anything. “Don’t worry. I’ll clear the air.”
He furrows his brows at you. “What? No. That’s not what I mean. I…” he hesitates, scratching an area behind his neck. “Well, this past week has been surprisingly calm for me. Not a ton of confessions.” (“Oh, poor Jeonghan,” you murmur.) He looks at you hopefully, “So, I was thinking we keep up the charade.”
You make a noise. “Like fake dating?”
“Yes.”
“Haha, very funny.”
“No, seriously.” He says earnestly. You don’t say anything for a moment just staring at him flabbergasted. He softens, giving you a very soft, “please,” paired with big, brown, pleading eyes.
Goddamn it–those eyes.
You turn your body towards him. “What do I get out of it?”
“I’ll tutor you.” He says, pointing to your quiz grade. You flip the paper upside down. “I got an A in multi.”
“No one makes an A with Lubinsky.”
“Which is exactly why you want me as your tutor.”
You think about it for a moment longer, and, well…
Fake dating Yoon Jeonghan can’t be the worst thing in the world.
As you find out during your first session, Jeonghan is not what you’d call a ‘chill’ tutor. You’re both sitting in a far corner of the library, notes splayed out all over the table.
“Do it again.”
“Jeonghan please, we’ve been finding directional derivatives and unit normal vectors for so long now. Let’s take a break.”
He points to your worksheet. “One more.”
“That’s what you said last time.”
“I thought you wanted an A.”
“You know, a C isn’t sounding so bad right now.”
“Just do it.”
You groan and set up another integral.
To your complete and utter shock, you’re able to solve the problem all on your own. No clarifying questions to Jeonghan. No flipping through your lecture notes. Just you and the answer.
Jeonghan checks it over, eyes darting between your notebook and his laptop. He pauses for a minute, finger lingering by your boxed, final answer, before very quietly saying, “look at that.” He looks up to you, eyes widened and lips pursed together in a pleasant surprise.
You can barely contain yourself. “It’s right?”
“Well,” he draws out the word, sitting back in his chair and erasing his previous expression. “You still rounded wrong at this step—“
You throw your pencil down. “I’M RIGHT!”
Which unsurprisingly earns you a couple dirty looks from others.
He snickers at your excitement, offering you silent applause at the achievement.
“So can we take a break now?”
He looks at you for a long moment. You stare at him back, shaking your shoulders as if that would convince him of a break. He smiles. “Okay, fine, but only for ten minutes.”
You end up taking it on the roof of the library building, eating an assortment of snacks that you bought from the vending machine and Jeonghan brought from home.
“So, tell me,” you start, grabbing a chip from the bag, “the confessions can’t really be that bad, can they?”
“How do you mean?”
“I mean,” you sit up in your chair, stretching out your back, “enough for you to spend your Thursday afternoon doing all this?”
“Ah.” He exhales, sitting down further in his seat and popping a grape in his mouth. “Well, I like to teach.”
“And what about the whole fake dating ruse?”
He shrugs. “It’s easier than being the asshole that says no.”
You lean forward, squinting at him. “I don’t believe that.”
He cocks his head. “No?”
You shake yours. “No.”
“What about you then?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “How come I know nothing about you?”
“How come you haven’t asked?”
He swipes his tongue over his lips briefly, sizing your question up. Quietly, he says, “Touche.” Then leads forward in his seat and asks if you have an ex.
You steal a grape. “Not an official one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that there was this guy before university, and we were…” you push the grape in your mouth, letting the burst of it give you time to find the right words. They never come. “We were something,” you settle on, “but he just ended up being more trouble than he was worth. Ask Soonyoung. He’s always hated the guy’s guts.”
“I can’t imagine Soonyoung hating anyone.” Jeonghan muses, pushing the tupperware of grapes towards you.
“Yeah, well, Soonyoung hated people who treated others like they were disposable.”
“So why’d you date him then?”
For a moment, you’re taken aback by the question. Replaying the words over and over in your mind looking for a hint of mockery or judgment. You don’t find any. Instead, you find his brows knitted together, and his lips pushed to the side of this mouth. The question is genuine. A wholehearted curiosity that feels so misplaced coming from the guy who has suitors falling at his feet at least once a day. It’s an innocent kind of curiosity that isn’t trying to pry; it’s only trying to understand. And that thought, the very idea that Jeonghan might actually be trying to get to know you, makes your entire body inexplicably shiver.
The curiosity in his voice bends over and touches yours. “What? You’ve never been young and stupid before?”
He shakes his head. “I was so focused on school and soccer when I was younger. I feel like I never gave myself the chance to just do dumb things, date shitty people, etc. etc.”
Gravely, you say. “It’s really not that exciting.”
He laughs. “I know.” His voice dips. “I just wish I had figured that out myself.”
Jeonghan doesn’t meet your eyes when he says it, but he makes this face, this sad-eyed, forced smile face that makes him look so suddenly vulnerable. Like you could tap his shoulder and watch him unravel from head to toe. You feel a rush of pity in the middle of your chest, a quiet urge to reach over and give him all the teenage regrets he never got to have. Instead, you lean towards him and say, “You’re still young. You can still do dumb things. Date shitty people.”
His eyes flit up to you. You notice what a beautiful shade of brown they are. How big they are. How sincerely sad they look. (And you know, somewhere, in a very far corner of your mind, that those eyes will be the ultimate death of you.)
“Well, I don’t know about that last part.” He starts, rubbing his hands against his jeans. “Technically, I’m dating you.”
You place your palm on your chest. “And I swear to be the shittiest fake partner you’ll ever have.”
He smiles. The sun emerges from behind a cloud. And his eyes–you swear to god–they glimmer.
You and Jeonghan’s first outing as an official fake couple is back at the frat house. To your surprise Jeonghan stays by your side the entire time. He takes you around the house, gets you a drink, and introduces you to his friends, but you’re quick to shoot down any shock because what else would a fake boyfriend be doing at a party. Although it’s not as easy to calm down the beating of your heart when Jeonghan’s hand finds its way into yours at some point in the night. By the time the party is in full swing, people bursting from every open door and window in the house, you’re already a little tipsy.
You’re getting a refill for your nearly done drink when another girl appears in front of Jeonghan. From the way she’s twirling her hair between her fingers and leaning into one hip, you can tell that, at least from her end, it’s more than just a friendly conversation. But even that doesn’t really explain what makes you act the way you do. Maybe it’s the alcohol, you reason. Or maybe the fact that Jeonghan’s popularity is just as contagious as the rest of him. Or maybe, just maybe, it’s that you’ve gotten a little too invested in this whole fake dating act. Either way, you swallow reason with the last of your drink, strut up to the both of them, and latch yourself to Jeonghan’s side, letting your arm wrap around his. You give the girl a snotty ‘sorry, he’s taken’ before dragging Jeonghan away, giggling into your palm with no intention to return. When you look back at Jeonghan, you find him looking quite amused as well.
“That was good!” He tells you by the time you’re both in the hallway. “But you know what would really seal the deal?”
You’re excited. Fake dating is fun. “What?”
“If we kissed?”
“Oh, please.” Your eyes do a drunken loop de loop. “I’m gonna go get my refill.”
“No, seriously.” He says with a look you can’t quite comprehend. “Look. She’s still watching.”
You look beyond his shoulder and sure enough, the girl is still watching you and him in the hallway. And she looks pissed. Maybe Jeonghan wasn’t that far off with the stalker accusation.
“You see what I have to deal with. Just one kiss. We probably won’t even have to do it again after this.”
“Probably?” You echo.
“Well, yeah, I can’t make any promises.” He shrugs except that you barely hear the words because you’re too focused on taking a tiny step back each time he takes a tiny step towards you. Eventually, the charade ends. Your heel and head meet the wall. His knee meets yours.
You’re painfully aware of your own breathing when you say, “When I said to be young and stupid this is not what I meant.”
He giggles in your face. You can smell the vodka on his breath. Is he drunk? Are you?
“Who’s going to believe we’re dating if we never kiss?”
And well, you can’t really argue with that logic. “Fine, but keep it short.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Do I look like the kind of guy to keep a kiss short?” You snort at that, and when he takes yet another step closer to you, your hands instinctively fly up against his chest. He tangles his fingers between yours and pulls your hands down, resting his forehead against yours. “Hey,” he says except that he’s so close it’s more like he exhales the word and inhales you, “can I kiss you now?”
He lets go of your hands, as if he’s making sure you know you have an out. Your eyes flit up to his, only to find that he’s watching your lips.
“Oh, fuck it,” is what you say before you fist his shirt and pull him in so that his lips meet yours.
And the moment you do all of your previous precautions are thrown out the window because—dang how long has it been since you’ve kissed someone?
Somewhere along the kiss, you lose yourself in the sensation of it, tugging on Jeonghan’s shirt. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in until your bodies are flush against each other. And when he slips his tongue into your mouth you tell yourself you allow it to happen because you’re tipsy or touch starved or both. Although none of those excuses explain why your arms snake around his neck and why your entire body turns to jelly when he moans in your mouth.
“Hey lovebirds,” you hear Soonyoung yell from somewhere thousands and thousands lightyears away, somewhere so far away you barely hear it, “get a room.” You both pull away from the kiss, faces only moving a tiny bit apart. Neither of you try to remove yourselves from the other's arms. He smiles, wide enough that his cheek brushes up against your nose, and it makes you forget where you are. Your ears betray you. You let yourself think he’s talking about the kiss and not the charade when he says, “Thanks for that.”
You throw caution to the window, laughing freely against his face. “Asshole. You knew I wouldn’t say no.”
He steps back, pulling away from your embrace. “Yeah,” he mutters, looking back to the main room, “that should do it.” You follow his eyes to see the girl from earlier whispering to a friend while sneaking glances at you two. You’re reminded of the whole reason you and Jeonghan were kissing in the first place.
He points to your cup. “Shot?”
You laugh—or well at least you try to—but it gets caught in your throat and distorted into a small cough. You swallow. “Yes.”
Thankfully, things aren’t awkward between you and Jeonghan after the party, although there’s no real reason for there to be other than the fact that you agreed to fake date him without really thinking about what else it would implicate. In fact, things are sort of easy with Jeonghan. He finds you around campus more often, and you find him too, walking each other to class and grabbing coffee when you both have a spare moment. In the midst of getting a fake boyfriend, you also get a new friend. With Jeonghan’s help, you actually start understanding math enough to complete the homework without having to flip back to the textbook every question. And it’s not too long after the party that you’re planning your next outing as a couple.
The stands of the field are absolutely packed with people. You had no idea soccer games rallied this much interest at your school.
“We’re playing a top ranked school apparently,” Soonyoung reads off a sign as you both make your way towards the student section. Luckily, he knows as little about the sport as you do. “So, why exactly did you agree to fake date Jeonghan?”
“He’s tutoring me in multi.” You explain to him, scanning the stands. While walking over to the game, you had told Soonyoung about the whole act, confirming what he already started to suspect when you first suggested going to the soccer game together. (“Drunken makeout I get.” Soonyoung had said. “But going to his games seemed like a stretch.” You shoved him off the sidewalk.)
“At least you’re getting something out of it.” He snorts. “Who are we looking for?”
You show him the text from Jeonghan, telling you to sit with his friend. “Do you know him?”
Soonyoung looks into the crowd. “Him?” He asks, pointing to a guy waving you and him over. You inhale sharply, waving back. “So if it’s fake, why is Jeonghan having you meet his friends?” Soonyoung asks as you head over.
“He has his reasons.” You offer, having asked a similar question yourself. You reach the stand where his friend is seated, crossing past the others in the row and gently apologizing as you bump into dozens of knees.
“Hi, I’m Joshua.” Jeonghan’s friend introduces himself as you and Soonyoung take your seats. You return the greeting, introducing yourself to him. Looking around the student section, you notice everyone else dressed in school merchandise. “Was I supposed to wear school colors for this?”
Soonyoung gives you a long look. Then just laughs in your face.
“Asshole.” You grumble quietly. “Could’ve said something.”
Joshua laughs as well, although much less in-your-face than Soonyoung’s. “I’m surprised Jeonghan didn’t give you like a jersey to wear or something.”
You had meant the asshole in question to be Soonyoung, not Jeonghan, but you don’t really have the heart to correct him. Instead, while waiting for the game to start, you ask, “How do you know Jeonghan?”
“Oh, we met freshman year. We both rushed the frat together, but I dropped after one semester.” Soonyoung pops in then, telling Joshua about when he rushed, and the two boys talk about other people they both mutually know. As one does.
They run out of people after a person named Jihoon. Joshua turns back to you. “How did you and Jeonghan meet? I haven’t even gotten the full story yet.”
“We met through Soonyoung, technically, I guess. At the house during a party. Soonyoung let me into his bathroom.”
Joshua nods, and with a playful lilt adds, “not a stalker, are you?”
You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth and turn back to Soonyoung on the other side of you. “I hope you know I’m never beating the stalker allegations because of you.”
Soonyoung smiles smugly at you.
“No, I’m kidding,” Joshua says through a laugh hidden behind his palm. “I just know how paranoid Jeonghan is about that stuff now.”
The wording pokes at a corner of your mind. “Now?”
Joshua nods, solemnly almost. “He actually had one last year. Didn’t end up being anything seriously endangering luckily. But he barely left his dorm for the rest of the semester after all was said and done.”
You think back to your conversation with Jeonghan on the roof of the library. You feel a familiar pang of pity bloom in your chest. He never got to just be young. Outloud, you hear yourself saying, “stupid.”
Joshua leans towards you. “What?”
You wave it off, and the crowd erupts into cheer. Everybody starts standing up, yelling and jumping and whooping. You hesitate for too long obviously. Soonyoung pulls you up by your arm. You see the team rush the field and the crowd gets impossibly louder. You look for Jeonghan among the players scanning each of them until you find him towards the left side of the field, warming up or something. You’re not really sure. Either way, you hear yourself start cheering when you find him, hands cupping around your mouth. The game starts soon enough with Joshua explaining to you and Soonyoung which position Jeonghan plays and what the hell is happening each time a player receives a card. After the first 15 minutes, you actually get a pretty good understanding of the whole thing.
The first half comes to a close with the opposing team up by one goal and Jeonghan’s team looking exhausted and dispirited.
“Hey, I gotta head out.” Soonyoung tells you once everything has settled down for halftime. “Still have to finish that chem lab due tonight.”
You grimace at the reminder of the report. “Good luck. It took me 5 hours.”
He gives you a miserable thumbs up. Then, turns his attention to Joshua. “It was nice to meet you.”
Joshua returns the sentiment. “I’ll see you at Tim’s once you’re done with the report though, right?”
Soonyoung’s lips turn to a fine line. “I, well, it’s a funny story but uh…”
“He’s banned from Tim’s.” You finish for him.
Joshua does not hide his shock. Soonyoung just shrugs and walks off. Joshua turns to you, exasperated. “But it’s the only bar in town.”
You inhale, “And Soonyoung is the type to get impulsively banned from it for the rest of college.” The answer doesn’t seem to do much of anything for Joshua’s profound confusion. “What’s at Tim’s tonight?”
“Oh, the team always goes there after games. They normally invite some friends too. Whoever can make it out basically.” You nod at his explanation, watching as people leave the stands then return, holding steaming, paper cartons of food. God, that smells good. You crane your neck to see. Are those corn dogs? “Did Jeonghan not tell you about it?”
“What?” He pulls you out of a trance of your own. “Oh, yeah, yeah. I think he mentioned it. I probably just forgot.”
Joshua chuckles politely. “So are you coming?”
Oh crap. “Uh, well…” A million lies run through your mind, chasing past one another, zigzagging in your brain. You have homework. You have other plans. You and Jeonghan aren’t even actually dating. Well—a million lies and one truth you guess. Either way, they all fizzle to nothing. Jeonghan didn’t tell you about the tradition at Tim’s. He probably doesn’t even want you there. So what the hell are you supposed to tell his best friend?
Luckily, you never have to figure that out. Fanfare erupts through the crowd, the announcer sounds throughout the entire field. “Oh the game’s restarting,” you mutter. Joshua is either genuinely disinterested in your response or just polite enough to not ask about it again. You have a crummy feeling it’s the latter.
The second half of the game is much more intense than the first. Your school’s team comes out blazing, scoring a goal in the first ten minutes in an insane effort led by the player with a 7 on his back. And the crowd, you included, absolutely lose their shit. You’re jumping up and down on the stands, screaming at the top of your lungs, voice lost among the rest. The team rushes to the right corner of the field closest to the student section, colliding in hugs and jumps and screaming maybe even louder than the hundreds of you in the stands. You watch Jeonghan in the celebration, hair matted down with sweat, mouth ajar in a soundless cheer, embracing a teammate before ditching him to literally jump on top of another. Your yells turn to laughs. And before you know it, the game is back on, all players racing across the field in a mad dash. The ball goes flying. Penalty cards flying to nearly every player at least once. The entire student section is at the edge of their seats. Time seems to fly by with unified chants filling your ears and throat. There’s only 10 minutes left. The game is still in a tie, and you really don’t feel like sitting here for the extra time. Then, someone starts singing the school’s fight song. Eventually, the whole section is singing it. You included. It ignites something in the team.
The opposing team has the ball, dribbling it across the field and passing it back and forth. Out of nowhere, one of your school’s players appears right next to the opponent with the ball. He kicks the ball out from under the other player, taking him and the rest of the stands by surprise. The ball rolls from under his knees to another of your school’s players. Jeonghan’s teammate is in action immediately, sprinting away with the ball to the opposite side of the field, feet flying faster than your mind can even comprehend. And just as one of the opposing team’s members closes in on him, he punts the ball in the air and it flies and flies and flies. Your heart lurches. There’s no mistaking it–the ball is aimed for Jeonghan. 7 minutes left. Jeonghan receives the ball perfectly, immediately racing away with it towards the goal. An opponent chases after him, forcing him to head nearer and nearer to the touchlines. It all happens so fast. The other player kicks his feet out to steal the ball. Jeonghan crosses the ball over to another teammate. The teammate receives it with his head. He dribbles it forward for half a second and then shoots. Time nearly stops when he does. The goalie throws their entire body to block the ball, and every present body watches, stupefied, as the ball blows right past the goalie’s head and lands squarely within the goal.
And if you thought the previous goal’s celebration was loud, this one’s is deafening. The entire stadium roars in pride. Your school won. Jeonghan won. And you can’t stop fucking smiling.
Joshua convinces you to wait for Jeonghan and the rest of the team at Tim’s with him. You do. For matters of fake dating but also because you could really use a beer. Conversation with Joshua is fun and light. By the time you’re both on your second round, his politeness dims to tease you for your drink of choice. You see now why he’s one of Jeonghan’s closest friends.
There’s commotion towards the entrance. You turn your heads towards it and watch Jeonghan’s team rumble through the tiny door, yelling at god knows what and rushing to the bar.
Joshua stands to go say hi. You follow him, walking slightly behind. Jeonghan finds you before you both find him. He tackles Joshua first, hugging him from the side, and literally ‘whooping’ into his ear. Joshua smacks at his face at first, but eventually joins him in the repeated ‘whooping’ jumping up and down in celebration. Then Jeonghan sees you. The whooping fades. He stares.
You swallow.
“Yah!” He exclaims, releasing Joshua and pointing a finger at your shirt. “I thought I told you to wear the jersey I gave you.”
Your face drops. Whatever happened to ‘hi’, ‘hello’, ‘how are you’?
Joshua says something about the bathroom and walks to the back of the bar.
You shake your head at the remaining boy. “It’s a little bit concerning how good you are at lying, you know.”
“Well, we can’t have people suspecting us.” He retorts, stepping closer to you as someone passes behind him.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” You ask, quiet enough for no one else to hear, face scrunching. “I didn’t know what to say to Joshua earlier, but I can definitely make up a lie if you want to just–”
“Are you kidding?” He grabs you by the shoulders, shaking you back and forth. “I want you here! We have to celebrate. This was the biggest game of the season, and we won it!” Then, with that same crooked smile you noticed upon first meeting, he adds, “Plus, you’re not very good at lying.”
You scoff. “Even now, you have the capacity for assholery.”
His eyebrows zip together. “I don’t think that’s a word.”
“It could be.”
Someone pats Jeonghan on the back, handing him a drink. Jeonghan asks what it is. The other person tells him to just drink it. Jeonghan does so begrudgingly. You recognize the person to be player number 7.
“Hi, I’m Seungcheol,” number 7 says to you, holding out his hand. You shake it, introducing yourself and congratulating him on the game.
“Hey, is assholery a word?” Jeonghan asks his teammate, watching your face contort through a thousand different variations of annoyance and disbelief.
Seungcheol looks between the two of you. “Uh, no. Don’t think so.”
“Ha!” Jeonghan wags a finger in your face. “You owe me a drink.”
You narrow your eyes at him, but you head towards the bar with Jeonghan anyways, where you find Joshua again ordering the three of you a round of shots. “No, no,” he insists, when you try to tell him that you’re already buying drinks, “I owe Jeonghan a drink anyways.”
And as you find out throughout the course of the night, apparently every other patron at Tim’s owes Jeonghan a drink. You lose count of how many times you’ve heard him say so after your third beer. Joshua makes his exit soon after that and conveniently right before the team starts singing the fight song again. You start dreaming of bed when a guy you recognize as number 3 gets on a chair and starts leading the crowd.
Your phone buzzes.
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finished the report :0
Soonyoung [1:23 AM]: finally
Soonyoung [1:24 AM]: how’s tim’s
You [1:24 AM]: did you know they had a karaoke machine?
Soonyoung [1:25 AM]: do you not remember how i got banned in the first place
You [1:25 AM]: sore subject mb
You [1:27 AM]: damn how’d you finish the report so fast
You [1:27 AM]: you only started it after the game right
Soonyoung [1:28 AM]: u know me xD
An odd feeling settles in your stomach as they start the last stanza of the fight song. You shove your phone in your pocket and ask for the check.
By 2 am, the celebration is finally winding down, and the entire team is collectively too drunk to stand. “Come on, Jeonghan,” you pull him away as he says goodbye to his friends for the millionth time. “Let’s go home.”
He finally relents, turning away from his friends and throwing both his arms over your shoulders, hugging you from the back. “Let’s go to yours.”
“Mine? Why?”
“It’s closer.” Then after a moment, he bumps his chin against your shoulder and adds, “Plus, I wanna see your room.”
“Fine,” you huff and start walking. Jeonghan releases himself from your back, electing to walk on his own until you realize he’s too much of a wanderer to be unattached, drifting off to the edge of the sidewalk or in the wrong direction every chance he gets. He asks you to carry him. You settle for holding his hand. The two of you walk quietly back to your dorm. That is until Jeonghan starts humming the fight song again. You snap. “Is that the only song you guys know tonight?”
He stops humming and apologizes. You don’t say anything back. Then, very quietly, sounding so infuriatingly innocent, he says, “I didn’t mean to get this drunk.”
You’re an asshole. “No. It’s okay. You’re okay. I’m just a little… upset right now.”
He burps. “Because of me?”
The look on his face when he says it pulls a laugh from between your lips. “No. Not because of you.” You make a right onto your street, dragging Jeonghan along as he tries to take a left. “Anyway, I thought student athletes weren’t supposed to drink.”
“No, we’re not supposed to get caught drinking.” Jeonghan holds out his hand in front of him, as if to say ‘stop’ to something invisible to you. “Very different.”
“Ah, I see.”
“Either way, I don’t drink that much.”
You scoff, stopping in front of the door to your building. “What do you mean? You drank last weekend.”
He shakes his head. “That was a special occasion.”
“And the occasion was…?”
He looks you dead in the eye.
“You make me nervous.”
Then, he turns around and vomits into the bushes behind him.
Once you get him to your apartment and in your bathroom, you leave him to vomit out the alcohol. Returning after the retching sounds recede and you’ve changed into pjs. He’s seated on the floor beside the toilet, eyes closed and head resting against the wall. You sit on the other side. Thank god, you cleaned this bathroom yesterday. “How do you feel?” You ask him.
He inhales. “Much better now that I…” He gestures to the toilet.
“Here.” You hand him a glass of water.
He opens his eyes and takes it, drinking from it slowly. “Sorry I got so drunk.”
“You already apologized 30 times on the way up here.” You remind him.
“But I’m really sorry.”
“And I really don’t mind.”
He considers that for a long moment. “You sure?”
You lean forward. “I’m sure. More water?”
He shakes his head, wordlessly eyeing your pajama pants. You look down at your snoopy pants. You hadn’t thought too hard about your choice of bottoms when you changed. “Cute.” He mutters, smiling at them.
You mumble back a ‘thanks’.
“So, what’d you think of the game?”
You tell him honestly how much fun you had watching them play, giving him every reaction you had to every move made and all your unfiltered opinions on the refs. He listens intently, filling you in on all the thoughts that ran through his head while they were playing and every conversation that happened on the sidelines.
“Thanks for coming.” He tells you once you’ve both exhausted all opinions relating to the game itself. “And for meeting Joshua and coming out to Tim’s afterwards and then getting me out of Tim’s too.”
“Jeonghan, it’s really not that big of a deal. And Joshua was a lot of fun to hang out with.”
“Hey, don’t get too attached.” He warns. “I’m the one you’re fake dating.”
“Trust me, I know.”
“So, then, as your fake boyfriend,” he gulps down the last of the water, “are you going to tell me what you were so upset about?”
You exhale, flexing your fingers. “It’s stupid.”
“And here I was thinking we had made a pact to be young and dumb.” You run your tongue over your top row of teeth, holding back a smile. “So, what happened?”
“I just got this text from Soonyoung that he finished this one assignment. And, I don’t know, I just felt so ridiculous because it took me so much longer than him to do.”
“Which assignment? The chem lab?”
You don’t remember telling Jeonghan about it. “Uh, yeah. How did you–”
“Man, who cares if it took you longer? I know Soonyoung, and I know you, and I bet yours is a million times better than his. No offense to Soonyoung, but I’m pretty sure he’d agree anyways.”
“Okay, you’re drunk.”
“That may be true, but it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re brilliant.”
Something about the way he says it, how steady his voice is maybe or the way he refuses to look away, forces you to see how much he believes it. But even that, doesn’t do much to change what you think.
“What are you talking about? I wouldn’t even be passing multi if it weren’t for you.” Your voice cracks as you say the words, making it all come out sounding much sadder than you had intended it to. You hope he doesn’t notice.
“That’s really not true.” You can’t even trust yourself to respond to him. He pouts. “Are you upset again?”
“A little.”
“I’m sorry. Let’s drop it.”
“Gladly.” Then, after a moment, you laugh at how silly it all is.
“First fight of the relationship.” He gives you your second half smile of the night. “I think we should hug it out.”
Your body reacts to the words before you do. “I disagree–”
“Did you just cringe?”
“–you smell like vomit.”
“Well, do you have clothes for me?”
“No, but I have a couch.”
He holds his index finger up. “I’ll take it.”
(When you wake up the next morning, Jeonghan’s gone. You open your phone and find 2 more apologies and 3 more thank you’s from him.
You try to ignore the twinge of disappointment.)
When the third weekend of fake dating rolls around, you admittedly are a bit tired of going to parties and getting drunk. So when Jeonghan asks what the plans are, you suggest he say that he’s taking you out on a date instead.
As such, you’ve spent nearly the entire day in bed. You’re heating up some water on the stove to make ramen when you get a text from Jeonghan saying he’s five minutes away. You stare at the text. The fuck does that mean?
Unsurprisingly, it ends up meaning that he was literally five minutes away. You open the door when he knocks and stare at him standing in the doorway.
“What are you wearing?” Is the first thing he says. You look down at your outfit. “You should’ve told me this was going to be a sweats kind of date before I put real clothes on.”
“Date?”
“Don’t look so surprised, it was your idea.” Jeonghan reminds you, strutting into your kitchen.
“No, no.” You say, returning to your boiling water. “My idea was to tell people we’re going on a date. Like as a cover.”
“Oh.” He falls down onto your couch. “Well I’m here so get dressed there’s this new ramen place I wanna try.”
You sigh, turning the stovetop off before trudging to your room to change.
The ‘date’ ends up being quite nice. You discuss a study plan to prepare for your math midterm over a much yummier bowl of ramen than you had planned on consuming today. Afterwards, you walk the streets of downtown, only intending to window shop. However, now, standing in a small boutique, Jeonghan tries to convince you to buy matching necklaces.
“Come on, they’re so cute.”
“We don’t need matching necklaces, Jeonghan.”
“A real couple would definitely have matching necklaces.”
“Good thing we’re not one.”
“Fine then. Guess I’ll just stop tutoring you in math too. You know Lubinsky’s midterms are almost as hard as his finals, right?”
You grab two of the necklaces and turn to the cashier. “How much?” You swear you hear Jeonghan whoop from behind you.
“Hey,” Jeonghan whispers, “we’re here.” You open your eyes slowly, not even registering that you fell asleep on the ride back to campus after the date-but-not-date. “You drool when you sleep by the way.”
And that wakes you up. You wipe whatever drool is left on your mouth, muttering a small and embarrassed ‘shut up’.
“What are you doing for the rest of your day?” He asks as you gather your things from his car.
“Absolutely nothing. Today’s the last day to rot before midterm prep starts.” You tell him, looking for your wallet. “What about you?”
“Avoiding a mixer at the house tonight.” He reaches into the center console and hands you the leather slip.
You take the wallet gratefully. “Wanna join me? We can make some tea. Watch a movie.”
He puts the car in park. “I know just what we should watch.”
And that’s how you end up on your couch with Jeonghan, two emptied mugs sitting on the coffee table, blanket draped over your legs, and the worst movie you’ve seen to date playing in the background.
“Wow, this movie sucks ass.”
“This,” Jeonghan gestures passionately to the screen, “is cinema.” You clasp your hands together as if in prayer. He takes a double take at the motion. “What are you doing?”
“I’m thanking god that your major is business and not film.” He immediately smacks apart your hands. “Don’t lie.” You say gasping for air between laughs. “This movie is objectively not good.”
His tongue peeks out between his lips, you practically see the smiling begging to emerge on his face. “Okay, so it might not be all that it was hyped up to be, but–”
“Ha!” You point a finger in his face. “I knew you hated it.” He slumps into the couch, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Do you want more tea?” You ask. He soundlessly nods, refusing to move his eyes from the tv screen.
You stand to make some, grabbing both mugs from the table. “So, do you not have a roommate?” Jeonghan questions, as you pour water from the kettle into the mugs.
You look to the second, empty room of your apartment style dorm. “Actually, no. There was supposed to be someone there, but they moved or dropped out at the start of the year and the school never filled the room.”
“Ah.” Jeonghan clicks, nodding as if finally putting together the last piece of a puzzle “So, that’s why you’re so friendless.”
You return to the couch with full mugs. “I am not friendless.” He makes a face. “Really. I have friends.”
“Other than Soonyoung?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, name them.” You kick him under the blanket. “Fine. You have friends.” (“I have friends.”) “But how come you never talk about hanging out with them?”
You exhale slowly, sinking further into the couch. “I just didn’t do too well in school last semester, so I promised myself I would focus on classes this time around. And, I don’t know, I guess I just got so caught up in that and haven’t really been making the time or effort for hangouts.”
He tilts his head. “You know, I feel like there’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. I mean we see each other regularly.”
“That’s because half of the time we’re studying.”
He gives you a look. “You know what I mean.”
You sigh, considering his point. Maybe at one point you would have thought the same. Last semester you even tried to have it all–the friends, the social life, the grades. But in the end, you dropped the ball. You can’t afford to make those same mistakes. “I just don’t think that world exists for me.”
He finally looks away from the tv and gives his full attention to you. His eyes seem to linger on every turn in your face. Quietly, he says, “So that’s what it is.” He doesn’t offer an explanation immediately. Instead, his chest deflates in one long exhale, and you smother the voice in your head that’s begging you to ask for one. And there’s this conviction in his voice, this breathtaking finality, when he says, “When are you going to believe me when I say that you’re one of the smartest people I know?” that scares the living shit out of you.
He looks at you again, and you swear to god, his eyes fall right through your frame. You swallow. “What about you?”
His eyebrows raise. “What about me?”
“Who are your friends? How do you spend all your time apart from classes, soccer, the frat, tutoring me and–oh my god, nevermind, new question. Do you even sleep?”
He takes a sip from the tea. “Don’t forget the business honor society. I’ll be the treasurer next fall.”
You squint at him. “Why?”
And like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world he says, “oh, well, they asked.”
Suddenly, you’re reminded of all the times you’ve seen him get asked out on dates followed by every time he’s failed to say no. “Jeonghan,” you turn to him, setting down your mug. (“oh, this is serious, okay.”) You ignore him. “Can you not say no to people?”
He blows a raspberry. “I can say no. Ask me something.”
“Uhhhh,” you rack your brain, “how about–let’s go to the beach next weekend.”
The closest beach is 5 hours away, and yet he has the audacity to say, “Wait, that sounds like fun though.”
“I thought you hated the ocean.”
“Yeah, but maybe it’d be fun with you.”
You shake your head, muttering how impossible he is. The end credits of the movie finally plays.
“I should head out.” Jeonghan says, removing himself from under the blanket. You nod, grabbing the mugs of tea and bringing them to the kitchen. He follows you to the door. You both exchange the usual ‘this was fun’, ‘let’s do it again’, ‘I’ll see you later’ that ends every hangout you’ve had in college. But then, unlike every other person you’ve held the door open for as they leave, after Jeonghan says his final goodbye, he gives you a peck on the lips.
Did that just happen?
Your fingers touch against your lips. Oh my god, it did.
He blinks. “Sorry. I, uh, I don’t know why I just,” he points to your lips, swallowing, “lol. We’re always pretending and then now. And you. Okay, well, anyways, I’ll leave.”
He turns and doesn’t look back. You hear a ‘bye’ sound from the hallway.
And it’s only by the time he’s probably halfway home that it hits: You’ve never seen Jeonghan flustered like that.
The first day of midterm prep is brutal. You spend the entire night in the library, studying for hours on end. And once an hour, on the dot it seems, you hear Jeonghan’s voice in your head. There’s a world where you can do well in school while also maintaining your friendships. That very night you text your friends, asking if they want to join you in one of the library study rooms you have booked every evening this week. They do, excited to hear from you again and for the gentle encouragement to get a head start on studying. You hate to admit that Jeonghan was right, but goddammit he was. You have a blast with your friends. You had barely even realized how long you’d gone without seeing them and how much you missed them. By the time your Thursday afternoon tutoring with Jeonghan comes back around, you’re still on track with the study plan you created over ramen, and you have exciting news for him.
“A birthday party?” Jeonghan says, voice carefully devoid of the disdain you must know he feels.
“Yeah, they heard through whoever that we’re dating, and now they all want you to come.”
“But a birthday party?” He repeats. This time not trying to hide anything.
“Oh come on. I went to the game for you.”
“Yeah, but the game was fun.”
“This will be fun too!” You say in what you hope is an encouraging way.
“Fine. But promise you won’t ditch me for your friends.”
“You’re so dramatic.” You mutter. “But yes, I promise.”
That Friday night Jeonghan meets you at your apartment and the two of you head over to the party together.
Halfway down the hallway to your friend’s apartment, Jeonghan suddenly halts. “Shit, should I have brought something?”
“Like what?”
“A gift? Wine? I don’t know.”
“Jeonghan, it’s a party. Don’t overthink it.” You tell him, opening the door to your friend’s apartment.
You step into her entryway and immediately feel like you’ve been transported into another world. The lights are all off save for some LED lights wrapped around the living room ceiling. An assortment of stacked red solo cups, yak-worthy bottles of vodka, and seltzers take over all available kitchen counter space. Some old pop song from an artist you know your friend loves plays loudly from the tv, reverberating through every pair of ears shoved into this tiny apartment. You inhale. The air reeks distinctly of college. You love it.
“Oh my god, there’s even people on the balcony.” Jeonghan whispers in your ears. You pivot your head around to look at him. He looks back at you, unassuming. “What?”
This entire scene is one you’re quite familiar with, having spent many nights just like this in previous semesters. But as you watch Jeonghan gape at the amount of people fitted into the kitchen alone, you figure he might not be as acquainted with this. “Yoon Jeonghan, is this your first apartment party?”
He cocks his head to the side. “Is it not yours?”
But before you can tell him all about the life you used to live before him, your friends find you attacking you with hugs and introducing themselves to Jeonghan.
Jenny, the birthday girl in question, sloppily points at both of you and says, “I’ve been drinking since noon. You need to catch up.”
After a minute of half-hearted protest, you oblige, heading over to the kitchen area. You grab two cups, handing Jeonghan one. “There’s soda over there if you’re not drinking tonight,” you tell him, pointing to the area beside the sink where a line of mixers await.
He looks over at the bottles, then looks back at you. “Are you drinking?”
“Yes!” Your friend Daniel yells from over the music. You just shrug, reaching for one of the handles. “I guess so.”
Jeonghan inhales sharply, holding out his cup for you to pour. “I’ll have what you’re having then.”
You hesitate, open bottle hovering over the lip of his cup. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Why?”
You frown. “I was thinking about what you said after the game about how you don’t drink that much, and I don’t want you to drink just because I am. I can not drink too.”
He pushes his cup up. “What was it you said earlier? It’s a party. Don’t overthink it.”
Then he gives you that crooked half smile that you’ve come to know so well. You pour him a drink and pour yourself one too. You turn back to your friends, holding up your cup for a cheers.
“Wait, wait, what are we cheersing to?” Daniel asks, grabbing his cup from behind him and holding it up, tapping on Jenny’s shoulder for her to do the same.
It’s Jeonghan who answers. Looking straight at you, he holds his cup up high and says, “To friends.”
You bring the drink up to your lips smiling, watching him watching you. All four of you down your drinks. The drink is absolutely terrible, burning a path down your throat all the way down. Jeonghan hands you another cup, whispering ‘it’s coke’ with an equally pained expression on his face. You take it gratefully.
“God,” Jenny says, placing a hand on her chest while watching the exchange between you and Jeonghan, “they’re like an old married couple already. How have we missed all this?”
“I know.” Daniel says, shaking his head. “I can still barely believe it.”
You glare at him. “Hey, what’s so hard to believe?”
They both ignore you, turning their attention to Jeonghan instead.
“So, we’ve heard all the boring–how you guys met, first date–sort of stuff, but we want to know the juicy details–”
“Jenny, don’t you have other guests to attend to or–”
“Yeah,” Daniel joins in, “like what’s your favorite thing about them?”
You turn to Jeonghan immediately. “You don’t have to answer that.”
“My favorite part,” Jeonghan starts, ignoring your plea to not humor them and tapping a finger on his chin in thought. He must find it after a moment, pausing the tapping and stealing a glance your way. “Probably how much fun I have with them.” He says to your friends. “I feel like we’re always laughing together or just having a good time. I’ve never been able to talk to someone as easily as I do with them. Like you know how when you get towards the end of a really good book, and you just can’t put it down, pushing everything else to the side to keep reading. Hanging out with them is like that.” Turning back to look at you, he adds, “I never want it to end.”
You hold his gaze while Jenny and Daniel erupt into a series of awes and exclamations. Deep in your gut, you know that you should be focusing on the kind smile on his face or the sudden rapidity in your heartbeat, but instead, more cruelly, you wonder how much of that was a lie he made up to appease the role of your fake boyfriend.
You turn to pour yourself another drink. He holds his cup out as well. You pour for two.
“You okay?” He asks, pouring some fruit punch into both your cups as well.
You nod. You have no reason to be upset. So taking a sip of the drink, you decide you’re not. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“We should play a game,” he says, taking a sniff of your jointly made concoction.
“Oh?”
“Yeah, like…” He looks around the apartment. “We have to drink every time we see someone kissing.”
“What kind of rule is that?”
“No. It’ll be fun.” He says, scanning the apartment again. He sucks in air between his teeth. “Damn, I thought there’d be more kissing than this for some reason.”
You laugh at his cluelessness, and then lean in to kiss his cheek. “There.” You say, clinking your cup against his. “Now, we can drink.”
He taps a finger to the tip of his nose twice, then points it at you, before taking two large gulps of his drink.
The game actually does a good job of getting you and Jeonghan drunk once Jenny catches wind if it and starts giving out birthday kisses to whoever will take one. After a while, you make the executive decision that you need a break and escape to the bathroom to piss. When you exit back into the hallway off the living room, Jeonghan is there, leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for you. He hands you your cup back. “Your friends are terrible, terrible enablers,” he says, motioning for you to drink up while taking a drink himself. You whimper, leaning against the wall beside him and readmitting the dreaded liquid to your body.
“So,” you bump your shoulder against his, “are you having fun?”
He shifts his entire body to face you, shoulder resting against the wall, back turned to the entire party. He puts his face right in front of yours, narrows his eyes at you playfully, and says, “did you even listen to what I said?”
You put a hand on his shoulder. Just to have something between his body and yours. “What?”
He grins cheekily, letting out a puff of air that smells like cherry. “I always have fun with you.”
You laugh. Then in a voice sober you would be embarrassed of, you say, “And you never want it to end?”
He sticks his tongue out just barely, laughing into your neck. “And I never want it to end.”
You kiss him.
You don’t stop to think about what it might mean tomorrow or even in the next hour. You don’t stop to think about the fact that you’re too drunk to be initiating kisses or the possibility that he is. You don’t stop to think about anything, other than how much you love the sound of his laugh and how badly you want to feel his lips on yours again.
The kiss starts slowly, a shy orchestration of lips and breath. Your nose bumps against his, and he pulls away. He looks at you with those damn eyes, like it’s the first time all over again. And for some reason you can’t explain you bitterly think that it was always going to end like this.
He cups his free hand against your cheek and pulls you back in. Your lips meet in an open-mouthed kiss that has nothing slow and shy about it. No. It’s sloppy, hurried, and hungry. It’s tongue and teeth, crashing and colliding over and over again. It’s your body against his, every rise of your chest battling against his You wrap your free hand against his torso, pulling him impossibly closer. His hand moves from where it was holding your face to travel over the back of your head and your neck, sliding halfway down your back before pulling forward to run from your waist down to your hip. It lingers there for a moment before continuing further to grip the back of your thigh, pulling your knee up the side of his leg and holding it there against his hip.
A commotion sounds from the living room. “Oh shit.” You say breathlessly, pulling away from him. “I think she’s going to pop the champagne.”
“Okay.” He breathes, before kissing you again. You laugh in his mouth, whispering his name and pushing a hand against his chest. Finally, he lets go of your leg. You lead him back to the rest of the party where everyone is crowding around the balcony entrance. You and Jeonghan stand in the living room, watching from the window as Jenny struggles to pop the cork. She gets it after a moment, yelping at the sudden burst and spraying it over the edge of the balcony. Once the champagne dies down enough to not be overflowing, she brings the bottle to her lips and chugs. Everyone counts.
1! Jeonghan steps closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso and hugging you from the back. You have to remind yourself to catch your breath.
2! He rests his chin on your shoulder. Without even thinking about it, you rest your head against his. His voice is a warm breath on your neck.
3! You recall what he said to your friends at the start of the party and again to you right before the kiss. Did he mean it? Does he really not want this to end?
4! Your eyes glance over at his. He looks happy. He looks like he’s finally given himself the chance to be young and stupid, which from the start, is all you ever wanted for him. So then why does it make you feel so suddenly grief-stricken?
5! “Why didn’t you tell Joshua about us?” You ask him quietly, voice drowned out by the counting for everyone other than him.
6! He angles his chin towards you. “What do you mean? He knows we’re dating.”
7! “No, I mean why didn’t you tell him that it’s fake.”
8! He stands up straight. Fuck the counting. You turn to look at him. “He’s your best friend, isn’t he?”
9! He looks at you carefully. “Did you tell Soonyoung that it’s all been fake?”
10! You haven’t even answered him yet, but somehow, he already knows what you’re going to say.
11! “Yes.” And even alcohol couldn’t have hidden the distinct look of betrayal painted all over his face.
12! He looks down into his cup and chuckles darkly. “Why did we just kiss?”
13! You swallow. Shit. “Someone was looking at you, like–well, you know what like.”
14! He doesn’t say anything. You recount his words back to him. “Sealing the deal, remember.”
15! His eyes bore into yours. How could you have been so stupid?
16! Please, you want to beg, say something.
17! He shakes his head, smiling emptily. “Tell your friends it was nice to meet them.”
18! He doesn’t wait to hear if you have anything left to say. He turns, and you watch him disappear from the party.
The rest of the numbers blur in your head.
(That night you had called Soonyoung, sobbing over the phone, feeling more drunk then, in your apartment than you had at any other point that night.
“What’s wrong?” Alarm was flush in his voice. “What happened? Are you okay?”
The only thing Soonyoung could even make out was a very sad, very quiet, “I ruined it.”)
You haven’t talked to Jeonghan since Jenny’s party. He hasn’t texted you either. Staring at your upcoming midterm on Thursday and the extra study session with Jeonghan scheduled for Wednesday, you feel, quite lamely, mocked by your own calendar. But more than anything, you’re mad that he’s left you to study all alone the week of your midterm. You’re mad that you’re so busy replaying that night in your head, you can barely pay attention to the practice tests. You’re mad that, right now, sitting at the spot you guys always sat at in the library, you don’t have him. And you’re terrified of the creeping thought that you never really did.
By the time the midterm does come around, you’re exhausted. Not from studying or lack of sleep, but just from the sheer willpower it’s taken all week to not think about Jeonghan. You feel oddly calm going into the exam, the usual anxious chatter of students around you and rattling of chairs and pencils, not freaking you out as much as it normally would. You take the midterm, one question at a time, just as Jeonghan instructed you to do with every homework and every quiz. And then, 40 minutes in, you finish. Astonishingly, you even have enough time left to check over your work. So you do, fixing minor rounding and calculation errors, until you’re faced again with a completed exam and 15 minutes left.
You get to do something you haven’t done since high school: you turn it in early.
You spend the rest of that day in between your bed and your couch, struggling even more now than before to ignore thoughts of Jeonghan and your last conversation with him. For the past several weeks, Thursday afternoons were monopolized by Jeonghan, but today, watching the sun set outside your window, you’ve spent it all alone. The finality of what happened last weekend finally hits you: you might never speak to Jeonghan again. You really did ruin it. Suddenly, the urge to weep overcomes you. You turn on the tv instead, looking for a movie to watch. And of course it must be fate's petty joke on you that the first movie that pops up is the one you watched with Jeonghan after your date. You groan into your pillow before switching to something else.
By the time the movie is almost over and the sun has fully set, your phone rings. You had been checking it obsessively earlier and had therefore set it a bit farther away from where you were sitting. But at the sound of the ring, you’re ashamed to admit that you literally leapt for it. Your mind reads the caller id and is instantly flooded with an odd mix of relief and anxiety. Jeonghan is calling. Holy shit, Jeonghan is calling.
Your voice is shaky when you answer. “Hello?”
“Hey, this is Jeonghan’s partner right?” Your mouth parts at the voice that most definitely does not belong to Jeonghan. Who is this man? Why does he have Jeonghan’s phone? Why does it hurt your heart so much when he calls you Jeonghan’s partner? You must sit in your shock for too long because the mystery caller speaks again, sounding somewhat annoyed. “This is Seungcheol from the team. This is who I think it is, right? Because your number was saved as ‘my cutie’ with like a million heart emojis, so if not, this is about to get really awkward.” You have no idea how to respond to that. Finally, Seungcheol says your name. “This is you, right?”
You inhale sharply. “Yeah, uhm, sorry yes. Is everything alright? Aren’t you guys at practice right now?”
“Yeah, well we’re about to end, but here’s the thing…” Seungcheol then explains how terribly Jeonghan’s been playing this week, overly aggressive, missing every pass, fucking up every cross. And today, halfway through practice he hurt his shoulder and the coach sat him out entirely, forcing him to sit on the sidelines and just watch. Safe to say, this did not go over well with him, and he’s been laying down on the bench head buried in his arms, snapping at everyone who approaches him ever since. Seungcheol had to use a fake emergency bathroom break as a chance to run away to the locker room and make this call. “Do you know what’s going on with him?”
Of course you know, and it’s all your fault. You really did ruin everything with one kiss. “I–”
“Fuck, I’m running out of time. Never mind that.” Seungcheol says, cutting you off. “Can you just come down and be here, when we get off practice? Jeonghan drove over so you both can take his car back, but I think he just really needs someone here with him today.”
You wince. “Seungcheol, actually, I–”
“No, no, please. You don’t understand. I think I saw him crying on the bench. He needs you. Come.” Then after a slight hesitation he adds, “If you can. Please.”
You don’t even know what to say, but it doesn’t matter because just then the call ends. You stare at your phone, considering the options. Stay here and wallow. Or go, and try to salvage everything you’ve broken. And while you are a very accomplished wallower, you know which one you have to do. You drag your feet all the way over to your room to change.
You pace outside the field waiting for them, running through every possible scenario in your head. It does nothing, only worsening the condition of your already ailing heart. You drop down onto the curb, holding your head in your hands. Maybe he won’t even see you like this. You can’t tell if you prefer or hate that possibility.
Something bumps into your back. You look up and find Jeonghan staring down at you. You stand up so quickly your head starts to spin. Looking at him, you realize that this is the longest you’ve gone without seeing or talking to each other since meeting. You hated every second of it. But you think you might hate the look on his face right now more.
“What are you doing here?” He asks, words devoid of all the little quirks that make him him.
“Seungcheol called me.”
His face twitches. “Why?”
“He said that you–” you halt, selfishly wondering if it’s too late to abandon this ship. “How’s your shoulder?”
He looks at it, rolling it out once. He shrugs. “It’s fine now.”
You nod.
He then surprises you by asking: “How was your midterm?” Your eyes widen, searching his face for… you’re not even sure what. You don’t find it anyways.
You shift your weight uncomfortably. “It went well actually.”
He nods.
“Do you want a ride back?
He scoffs quietly. You flinch. “Can you even drive?”
“Uh, yeah.”
“How would you get back to yours?”
“I don’t know. Walk. Or maybe a bus. Or I could even–”
He doesn’t even let you finish. Voice raising when he asks again, “Why are you here?”
The words come out before you can stop them, tone matching his. “Because I’m sorry!”
“For what?”
“For kissing you!” He drops his duffle bag on the floor. “I don’t know!”
He parts his lips, inhaling as if to speak, but then he looks straight in your eyes and loses every word he might’ve wanted to say. He picks up his duffle and walks over to his car. “Jeonghan, please say something. I miss you, and I hate this. I just want to at least talk about what happened before we never speak again.”
He shoves his bag into the backseat and slams the door shut. He points to the car. “You coming?”
“Where?”
“I’ll drop you home.”
You don’t even know why you let him, but you do, sliding in the passenger seat and waiting until the car is started and moving to say something.
Or at least, that was the plan. But then you lose all the nerves you built up on your walk over and keep quiet the entire drive back to your place. It’s only when he stops in front of yours, ignition shutting off, that they build back enough for you to say, “Jeonghan, I–”
“I’m not mad because of the kiss.” He finally says, voice much softer than before. His eyes stay trained on the dashboard. “The kiss was…” He chokes on the word while the tiniest of smiles breaks like light after a storm on his face. “The kiss was perfect.” Your stomach momentarily turns into a gymnast. “I’m not even mad at all. I’m just,” You lean in after the words, as if waiting to catch them in your hands. He shakes his head once and then turns to look at you fully. “I’m upset because you think this has all been fake when, if I’m being brutally honest, I haven’t been faking anything since that first party.”
Oh.
Oh.
Holy fucking shit.
He chuckles darkly, hitting his head lightly against the steering wheel. “Now, I know what it feels like to be on the opposite end of this.”
You can’t help yourself. “How is it?”
He groans. “It’s like a thousand stomach aches throughout your entire body.”
You want to take him out of his misery, but, “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.”
“I don’t think–”
“No, I’m serious.” He mutters. He looks pained. “Remember when you said that I can’t say no to people? This is it. I’m saying no.” He smiles at you, but you know his eyes too well and you know when there’s nothing in them. His breath catches. “I’m really happy about your midterm. I always knew you didn’t need me.”
He looks away after that, turning the car back on, an obvious signal for you to get out. Selfishly, you don’t. You take two more seconds to stare at his face, his eyes, his hair, his hands. Then you unbuckle your seatbelt and step out of the car.
He doesn’t wait long before he drives away.
You walk back up to your dorm in a stupor of sorts. You unlock the door, step through the kitchen, walk like a zombie to your room, and stare at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes travel over your whole frame, and for some reason they fall to rest at your neck. More specifically, your necklace.
You’re out of the door, running before you even know it. Breathlessly, turning onto the road that leads to the opposite side of campus. 30 minutes away. This of course turns out to be a terrible, terrible idea. You do not run. But you get there eventually. Speed walking up to the door of Jeonghan’s frat house and knocking vigorously.
Soonyoung happens to be the one that opens it. “Oh, hey! How was your–Why can’t you breathe?”
You ignore him. “Is Jeonghan here?”
He shakes his head. “I don’t think he’s back from practice yet. Why? What happened? Did you guys make up yet?”
“No, but, Soonyoung, I’ve been so stupid. This whole time I kept gabbing on and on, but I was blind. It was him. It was always–”
You hear a familiar voice say your name. Not just familiar. Your favorite voice. You turn to face him.
And you can’t help it, you grin.
You’re distantly aware of Soonyoung closing the door behind you.
“How did you get here?”
“I ran.” He makes a face. “Well, partly.”
“I told you to–”
“I know what you said.”
“Fine.” He sighs. “I didn’t–well, not like this, but listen. It’s okay if you don’t care–”
“But the thing is Jeonghan,” you say, the sentences and words you had prepared on the way over blurring together all in a rush to get out of your head and into his, “I do. There was no one looking at you at Jenny’s party. I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I wanted it. I hate sports. Really, ask Soonyoung, but I went and watched your game and had fun because you asked me to and because I don’t have the capacity to actually say no to your face. I thought I hated that smirk you do, but really I just hate how flustered it makes me feel. And I’m sorry that I took the whole young and stupid thing too close to heart, but,” you pull the matching necklace out from under your shirt. “If I didn’t care, would I still be wearing this? Would I be able to stand here and tell you and I haven’t taken it off since we bought it? And that that date was the best date I’ve ever been on.” You let go of the necklace, inhaling sharply. “I care, Jeonghan.” Then, as if it needs to be clarified, you add, “about you.”
You stare at him, waiting. And waiting. And waiting.
He turns around, takes two steps away from you, and then immediately plops his ass on the ground. You hear a whimper. “I thought I was going to lose you.” You approach him slowly, like a cat you’re trying like hell not to scare. You kneel down on the pavement beside him. He wipes his tears. “Don’t laugh.” He cries, already sensing the one bubbling in your throat. You shake your head as a swear not to. Which you break a second after the fact, turning your head to the side, desperately trying to hide it behind your hand. “Bully!” He exclaims.
“No. No.” You say, composing yourself and turning back to him. His tears are wiped, but a pout remains on his face. You cup your hands against his cheeks. “It’s just really cute.”
“It’s embarrassing.” He huffs.
You shake your head. “I love it.” Then you kiss him. It’s a slow and sweet kiss. You relish in it. There’s no rush anymore. No deadline. He isn’t going anywhere. Neither are you. You have all the time in the world with him.
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iamasaddie · 3 days
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tired
paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago word count: 2.6k masterlist
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Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it. 
Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.  
Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight. 
That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.
You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.
“Hey, Joel, long night?” 
Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.
You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly. 
“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.
“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“
“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”
He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.
“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”
You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”
He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up. 
Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t. 
“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze. 
“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight. 
“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”
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You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears. 
You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.
“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.
Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.
“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath. 
When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.
“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”
Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.
"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”
“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”
Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.
As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.
You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”
“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”
Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.
His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.
“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch. 
You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.
“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.
“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.
When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.
Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.
“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.
Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.
Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.
One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.
The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.
“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did. 
The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.
Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.
His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.
“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.
“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.
Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.
“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”
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planetaryupscaled · 2 days
Text
Disenchanted
Male Reader x Karina
Tags: 6k, cheat, oral, story heavy
The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings.
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They say everything happens for a reason, if life gives you lemons turn them into lemonade. It always struck me as a strange saying a little too cut and dry. Like a mantra to lead my life with, it had been an upwards struggle. Devoid of any formal degree, in many respects I was a self-made man, grafting from the bottom of the pile and slowly making my way upwards, to the light, the fabled promised land of success, this is my story.
It was early 2020, still fresh from the Covid-19 meltdown. Looking back on it, we really did make a fuss over nothing, it was world ending stuff. Fresh out of a failed college career I had just turned 20, studies had never really held much of my attention, crashing out a year before graduation. Saying this, I was good at building networks, street smart you could say, I knew a good deal when I saw one and over the years, I would develop the timing and nous to know when exactly to pull the trigger. With a heavy interest in films, my main aim was to get into the industry by any means necessary. Luckily enough for me I knew a few people who were runners on in the SM Entertainment back in the day. The pay was basic if that and the job was menial, filled with odd jobs like fetching coffee or printing out stuffs. Nevertheless, it was a start.
“Seriously, where is that guy? the new runner guy, lanky looking kid,” Shouted the set manager.
“Ahem…” I replied, standing next to the sweaty looking man.
“What’s your name? You know what, it doesn’t matter, get a coffee to waiting room 4, quick kid,” he said, bits of saliva spraying everywhere.
God, I hated that guy, his breath always reeked in a mixture of cheap coffee and banana. Reluctantly I knocked on the door, prepping a fake smile for whomever was going to open it.
“Hey,” A chirpy voice said.
My mouth was lolling open slightly, mouth running dry as I struggled to form a suitable response. She laughed softly at my starstruck reaction, holding out her hand to shake mine. It was Karina. She was most teenagers wet dream, well, technically still is.
She was just as attractive as the in the magazines, her smokey brown eyes complimenting her tight, tone, bronze physique. I felt an instant twinge in my pants as I willed myself not to show my arousal, hoping to od it was not obvious that I was attracted to her. Brushing myself down mentally, I took a deep breath and fixed my shirt holding out hand containing her hot beverage. There was something about her, despite her arresting looks that calmed me. Maybe it was the kindness in her eyes or the kindness in her voice, whatever it was, it worked.
“Your- coffee,” I managed.
“How old are you?” She said, taking a sip of her latte.
“Erm… 20- Miss,” I replied.
“Seriously, call me Karina,” She smiled.
“You are pretty cute,” She followed up, handing me the piece of paper with a list of her requirements.
“From now on, you are my personal runner,” Karina said, high fiving me as she left for rehearsals.
I blushed at the comment, a throw away one at that but at the time, it was like gold dust to me. The piece of paper was basically a shopping list of drinks and snacks to get at what time. It remained this way for a year or so as I watched Karina’s fame sky rocket. It was almost inspirational how she climbed the ladder step by step. At that time, she was dating an actor, Lee Jiwook? Jiwoon? or something, I don’t know. Another forgettable character.
I had a sense that he felt superior to me, which granted at the time, he was dating Karina so one could forgive his arrogance. He was in her changing room on a number of times. There were rumors that they were due to get engaged which turned out to be true one it was released in the press a few months later. He was by all intents an purposes the luckiest guy alive in that moment.
On the rare occasions that we did get time alone, Karina and I talked about everything from our past to future aspirations. She even helped me get back into college, funding part of my studies to get into a foundation business course. It was a difficult time, I had to finish college, which I did with after work classes and after that, moved onto that foundation course. I was indebted to her in more ways than one, but our relationship never threatened to go any further.
Over the year I think Karina grew to see me as a brother of sorts. I mean it was fine, what more could I expect. Saying this, I always held on to that faint hope that we could be more, if only the tables were turned, and I was the rising up and comer, one could only dream.
If only I had known my time with her would be limited, maybe I would have been braver, more forward I told myself. However, it did not pan out that way, as per usual, life throws you lemons, make some lemonades right? Coming into the last few episodes of the final series I made my usual rounds, knocking on her door and entering without a response, only to find Karina scantily clad in a white bra and pair of cotton panties. I did it all the time, just enter and drop off a coffee, maybe have a chat, but this time was different.
“Crap- don’t you knock?!” Karina jumped, covering up her indecency.
“I- I did, I thought- sorry,” I replied.
I managed to sneak a peek at her crotch, sending my desires into over drive seeing her, Karina picked up the plushie, covering her sex. A drop of pre cum leaked my tip as I groaned internally at the visual stimulation. She was hot as fuck I thought in my head, what I would do just to be with her for one night. Regaining composure I chuckled, triggering her to break into a smile also, scrambling to get dressed.
“Nice plushie,” I said, winking at Karina
“Oh, Haha,” Karina replied blushing.
“Your morning coffee Miss,” I said, leaving her daily latte on the table, turning to leave as I closed the door.
That was my last encounter with her as I was moved to another set the day after. If we stayed in touch, it would probably be one of those funny memories we could bring up from time to time but it was not to be. Now in the present, decades later I was suited and booted, ready for my fourth-round interview for a Digital marketing executive role at The Prada Group.
“They will have you now,” The secretary called out to me, beckoning me into the conference room.
My hands were steady, nerves of steel. I had interviewed at many companies before, but had a renewed desire to nail this one. I had to; she was the co-founder. The days of being a runner were long gone, as I managed to land a junior marketing role. This however, was my bread and butter, marketing, networking and the like. It was like a hand in a glove, I loved it, and it showed in my work.
Holding my head high, I pushed open the doors, my presentation in hand, ready for whatever they threw my way. Ready for the interview? Yes, but ready for- Karina?! I was not. Under normal circumstances, shareholders would not be part of the interview process. Steadying myself I held out my hand, shaking each interviewer’s hand firmly. There were three, Karina being the last.
“Nice to meet you all,” I said with confidence.
I could see Karina racking her brain as to where she had seen me. The cogs in her head were turning till I saw her face light up.
“Oh my god, Minho!” She said, her face lighting up.
“In the flesh Mam,” I replied.
“Oh, apologies for the lack of professionalism, I worked with Minho...what is it now, Ten years ago?” Karina said, her smile lighting up the room and to my advantage, perking up the other interviewers.
“We can catch up after...carry on with the presentation,” she said beaming.
Unclasping my blazer and setting it to the side I went through point by point my ideas for the new product launch, our target audience, demographic and ways to capture their attention. It was as robust a presentation as I had ever given, leaving very little questions afterwards as the four discussed among themselves after grilling me with queries.
It was a positive sign then that all four were smiling in unison as my hands started to sweat, showing the first signs of how much this job meant to me. It was her presence that threw me a curve ball. After all these years, Karina was still as alluring as ever. If anything, she looked better now than she did when we first met. Now in her thirties, married and with kids, she looked fantastic. I managed to shake my fantasies of once an idol from my thoughts and concentrate on the panel in front of me, glancing at her every so often.
“Listen, we don’t do this regularly, but this interview has been far from the ordinary. Your links with Karina, coupled with her glowing references and your stellar presentation, we would like to offer you the job,” The man in the middle said.
I was slightly taken aback at the praise, this must have been the best interview I had ever had, taking a moment to process I smiled and nodded, shaking their hand in turn with acceptance.
“Minju from HR will settle the contracts with you by phone, I believe you are ok with our pay package?” The interviewer said.
“Yes Sir,” I replied, shaking his hand again.
To be fair it was a big bump on what I was on at the moment with the added benefit of an old love interest entered into the equation, it was a must take.
“Thank you for giving me the opportunity,” I said before turning towards the door.
“Minho, one sec, are you free later this afternoon for a catch up?” Karina said before I left the room.
“Sure,” I replied smiling before exchanging numbers.
It was a move so natural to me now, one which my 20-year-old self would be proud of. I had just nabbed Karina’s phone number.
“Well done on today,” Karina said, putting her hand on my shoulder.
“It’s really good to see you,” She followed up.
“Catch you soon,” Karina said smiling warmly at me.
“As long as you get the coffees this time,” I replied with a wink.
“Good one,” Karina reply, her cheeks turning a light pink for the briefest of moments.
For the first time in a long while, the fruits of my labor were finally bearing fruit. It was a constant struggle to get to this point in my career, blocked off at various stages in the chain by a combination of bad luck and wrong timing. I was always taught that we make our own luck in this world which is why I kept striving forward, kept pushing on, no matter what situation I found myself in. That interview had been a victory, a rare moment where the pieces just fell into the right slots, just at the crucial moment. On the way out, I had a quick glance around the office, taking in what would be my new workplace. Just at the back next to the director’s office was the marketing department, no doubt my new home going forward.
With great pride I made my way down the stairs and back to reception before being gently caught by the arm. It was the HR rep asking if I had a quick minute to sign the necessary documents instead of getting it mailed through. It did strike me as a peculiar move, normally it took HR a few days to draft the offer letter and send it out, but I thought nothing of it, browsing the important bits and signing off with my signature. Luckily, I had no notice to give as I had just left my role the previous week, a risk on my part, but one I felt I could confidently overcome. It proved to be the right choice as I handed the papers to HR.
“See you next week,” She said.
“Well done,” The rep followed up.
I nodded, shaking her hand, before turning to leave.
“Minho..,” A familiar voice called from behind me.
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It was Karina, speed walking towards me through the crowd of workers. She caught many people’s glances, mostly men as they craftily snuck a peek of the former Idol striding confidently across the floor space. She was wearing an elegant cream patterned dress with a black leather jacket draped across her shoulders. It gave her that casual suave boss look, yet at the same time emanated a very elegant and feminine vibe. Her smile broadened as she caught up with me, lightly touching my shoulder as we walked side by side.
“Congratulations again, on landing the position,” Karina said with a bright smile.
It was hard not to be taken aback by her sheer beauty, but if time had taught me one thing, it was to stay calm and measured in moments like this.
“It... was a close one,” I replied with a grin.
“Pleaseeee, you totally nailed it, we are lucky to have you,” She replied.
“Ok now you are just flattering me for a free coffee,” I joked.
“Ah you know me too well,” Karina replied, chuckling lightly.
“I thought you were busy this afternoon?” I asked, as we made our way outside.
She shrugged her shoulders, playfully prodding me in the ribs with her elbow.
“They were just update meetings, not so important, besides it free’s up more time for us to catch up, unless you have other plans?” Karina said.
“No, not at all, we can go over some of my plans for the project,” I replied.
“No business talk, fill me in on everything else going on with you,” She said laughing.
We walked and talked for what seemed like a few minutes, till we reached a quint little French barista tucked away from the main road. Checking my watch, I realized we had literally been walking for a good fifteen minutes as it was already half past four in the afternoon. It felt seamless, chatting to Karina again, similar to the old days where we would talk about everything and anything while she prepared for another shoot in her Idol days.
“Skinny Latte?” I asked, eying up the menu.
“You know me so well,” Karina said in jest.
“Well, I had a lot of practice back in the day,” I replied with a smile.
Karina suggested we sit in the corner away from the busy eyes of onlookers outside. I had noticed she changed much in this aspect, not one to revel in the spotlight, she was quite reserved in many respects, no doubt influenced to some degree by her religious upbringing. I respected that, her values and steadfast nature in doing what was best for her and her interests.
“So, spill the beans, what’s been going on with you?” Karina asked, taking a sip of her coffee.
“Well, it has been quite the whirlwind to be honest,” I replied.
“Once I left that day, I worked on a few other company till I finally got a promotion to the PR team. From there I steadily plugged away, attending business class in the evenings, thanks to you, eventually graduating and landing an entry level Marketing role for a local website. I stayed there for a couple of years, continuing further study and gaining experience, leaving there as a senior marketing lead. My last job, that I just left was as the Digital lead overseeing different internal projects before rising to Miu Miu taking care of bigger picture stuff and here we are,” I said.
“That is quite the journey, I’m so glad you made it work for yourself,” She said, smiling warmly.
“Well, it was all thanks to your encouragement in the beginning, making me pull my finger out and get my ass into gear,” I replied.
“No, that was all you, I just opened a few doors,” Karina said, rapping lightly on my arm.
Something was different with her. It was like I was no longer seen as a brother but an equal in her eyes. It was the way she looked at me, no longer endearing, almost a bit curious. It triggered an itch within myself that I had to scratch, my infatuation with her since the early days only growing stronger. A feeling that I wanted to follow through and see where I could take this. There were the obvious blockers with her being happily married and all, but my selfishness got the better of me, kicking my moral compass to the side as I mirrored her actions, lightly touching her arm on occasion throughout or little catch up. Not that she seemed to mind at all, her beautiful smile always beaming, fixing her hair from time to time as our coffees soon turned into wine and eventually to dinner.
“So, tell me,” I said, motioning to her ring.
“Oh,” Karina replied blushing slightly at my abrupt change in tac, focusing on her personal life.
I did not expect much, as I knew she was relatively private in nature.
“Well, yes, I am married and have three beautiful children,” She said beaming.
Karina showed me a few pictures in my phone, leaning over the gap in the table to flick through the gallery. I could smell her perfume from here, laced in the depths of her nape, filling my nostrils with a sweet aromatic blend of floral notes and citrus. She smelt heavenly, as I felt my crotch stir at our sudden close proximity. We spoke for what seemed an age before she checked her watch after feeling her phone buzz. It was now half nine in the evening.
“Shoot..,” Karina said.
“God I better get going, the husband is messaging,” She said with an awkward smile.
“It has been good catching up, really good, you have changed a lot Minho,” Karina said, clasping her bag.
“Change in a good way I hope,” I replied with a chuckle.
I could see we had got through quite a number of bottles of wine as Karina dialed a local taxi for pick up as we settled the bill and walked outside to wait for her ride.
“Yes by the way,” Karina suddenly said.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You have changed in a good way,” She replied.
“Ok that was like a five-minute delay Karina, losing your sharpness,” I said laughing.
“Pfftt, it’s the wine, deadly stuff,” Karina said, merrily leaning on my shoulder.
“You are much more confident and forward looking, it’s a good look,” She said softly.
“I can remember the first time we met, you were so star struck it was cute, standing there with a coffee in your hand,” Karina said laughing.
“Do you blame me?” I said chuckling.
“I mean it was adorable, your face was all flushed and, I can say this now but it was a little obvious you were a little too excited,” Karina said slapping my arm in hysterics.
I had hoped that she would have missed that all those years ago, but I guess she picked up on it, all of it. I could not help but laugh with her reminiscing about the past as the alcohol slowly set in.
“Oh, here’s my cab,” She said giving me a hug and pecking me on the cheek.
“It was so nice to see you, congratulations, again,” Karina said beaming, the smell of wine now laced in her breath.
“You too Karina, it was great to see you too,”
“Don’t worry I have managed to curb my excitement this time!” I joked.
Karina laughed, punching my harm.
“Must be losing my touch,” She said, smiling.
“I wouldn’t fret, you still have the same- effect..,” I replied, my expression of the cheeky, implying nature.
Karina blushed, swiping her hair behind her ear while she fidgeted on the spot for a few moments, smiling.
“Well, I best be going, see you in the office?” She said, gathering her composure again and leaning in for a hug.
“Yes boss,” I replied, closing the taxi door and watching her leave.
The walk home was a good one, a feeling of elation at nailing the interview and one of mild curiosity at the unsaid words and feelings I felt between us. With a bright smile across my face, I went to bed eager to get started on my first day.
Strolling into the work on day one all suited and booted gave me a great sense of accomplishment as the HR representative took me to my new office. It was large, much larger than my old one, decked out in a minimalistic art decor kind of vibe. It even had that fancy clap to shut blinds feature which made the inner child in me laugh in excitement.
“This is your team,” The rep said.
She introduced me to my marketing team manager Nayoung, who over saw our junior team members Sohye and Yeonjun. They seemed like a good bunch, all enthusiastic and willing to do the hard yards as we went full on into the new product launch. There was little time to settle in as the launch was happening in three months’ time, so all the marketing and advertisement had to be nailed down asap. From my first few encounters with Nayoung I got the impression that she knew exactly what she was doing, decisive in her actions but at the same time very popular with the other two. She must have been a few years younger than myself, perhaps on her late twenties, but her experience levels shone through her work. She had that girl next door look, yet commanded respect through her calmness and wicked sense of humor. She was sharp, I had to hand it to her, batting off my banter throughout the day and weeks with ease. It got to a point that our team work was seamless, synchronized as the group ramped up for the final presentation to Karina.
It was now week three, and the first draft was about to be presented to Karina for approval. The team had been working hard throughout the process, pulling late nights on consecutive occasions as all four of us tidied up the final bits of the slides.
“So, we heard that you and the boss lady go way back,” Yeonjun said smirking.
“Yeah, I have known her for quite some time,” I replied.
Sohye and Nayoung smiled at each other.
“Seriously guys, we are going there?” I asked laughing.
“Well, she is kinda hot,” Yeonjun chirped in.
“Kinda? She is drop dead gorgeous,” Sohye replied.
“Guys, just get to work, I will leave the company card with Nayoung, order whatever you want,” I said smiling.
“Is that a no comment?” Yeonjun asked laughing.
Before I could hit back with some banter of my own, Karina walked in wearing an eye catching black short, black top, showing off way too much leg for the office.
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“Evening all,” Karina said, smiling, her eyes lingering on me for a brief moment.
I could sense Yeonjun and the team in hysterics as I gathered my laptop. He bit his fist obviously in reaction to Karina’s insanely revealing work attire.
“Let me take you through the final proposal, Boss,” I said with a cheeky grin.
“Lead the way,” Karina replied.
My office was just around the corner as I snuck another peek at her smooth legs before shutting the door behind me.
“Bit bold for the office?” I said smiling.
“Ughh don’t get me started, just rushed off a shoot with Women’s Health, barely made it in time through the traffic,” She replied, sitting down in the swivel chair and crossing her legs.
Something about what she said did not add up though. According to her PA she had finished in the afternoon, as the shoot had been moved earlier on in the day. I knew this because our meeting was due to be the following day but I moved it forward to tonight as we were in good shape with the proposal. With intrigue racing across my thoughts, I settled down beside her, making sure not to stare at her smooth legs.
“So, what you got for me?” Karina said, tilting her head towards me.
I ran her through our slides, pointing out the key take aways and messages of the campaign. Karina nodded intently, chiming in with slight tweaks here and there. She really knew her stuff, explaining the ideology of the company revolving around sustainability and making the world a better place through safe practice and renewable materials. If not for her flawless attire, I would have paid better attention as I found myself staring at her face before being brought back to reality.
“Don’t you agree?” She said.
“What? Yes, yes, I do,” I replied.
“Did you just zone out? Hah for a minute there your face reminded me of when we first met,” Karina said smiling.
The slight awkwardness from a few weeks back when I dropped her off at the taxi were now long gone as I felt her get more and more comfortable with my company.
“What do you mean by this part?” Karina asked pointing to one of the slides.
I moved in closer, feeling the slight brush of her calf on my leg as I explained the ins and outs of the slide. The touch of her leg on mine was not rebuffed as I continued with my explanation, using it as an excuse to gently continue to rub my leg against her bare skin, my knee now sneaking up her leg slightly as we sat side by side. I felt a slight jump in her demeanor so I quickly moved my leg away, maybe I had pushed my luck too far.
“Sorry- bit tight in here,” I said, breaking the silence, which was an odd thing to say as the office was large.
The awkwardness steadily grew as the tension cranked up, Karina finally looking up at me after I had finished my re run through her query.
“Thank you…” For taking me through it.
“It looks, good,” She said.
Her face now a few inches from mine, the silence filling the gap, I felt a sudden rush of blood to my head, moving forward without skipping a beat planting my lips on hers. Initially feeling a tensing in her shoulders, this quickly dissipated as our lips melded together, my hands now resting on the side of her waist as we embraced in deep heavy petting.
“Wait…wait…I can’t,” Karina said, her hands gently pushing me away as I continued kissing up her nape and nibbling at her ear lobe.
“Minho…wait...seriously I’m married..,” She followed up, breaking our kiss and rolling away an inch or so in the seat.
Her face was flushed red, hair slightly out of place as the ravishing woman looked at me, slightly unsure and ashamed. I could see her breathing had accelerated by the way her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she rushed to fix her dress.
“What’s the matter, don’t you want to?” I asked enquiringly.
“Its. Not- I’m married and have a family,” Karina replied clearly flustered.
I closed the distance between us in the chair again without a response from her as she just sat still, pretending to fuss before picking up her phone.
“Jaewook called, just going to call home,” She said hurriedly, turning her back to me as she dialed home.
Catching the chair mid turn, I spun her back around, just as her husband greeted her. Placing my leg in-between her thighs I slowly inched forward. The look in her eyes were full of trepidation, yet her body showed no signs of rejection as Karina sat completely still greeting Jaewook on the other side of the line.
“Hey honey, yes I’m- just…in a meeting,” Karina said.
My confidence now shot to a hundred due to our kiss moments before so decided to take things a bit further, reaching out my hand and running it along the inside of her smooth pale legs. Karina showed brief signs of resistance, squeezing her legs shut before I eased them open again with my other hand, travelling further up her inner thighs till my fingers made contact with her moist sex.
“I should be home...in a bit..,” Karina continued talking.
Her face was clearly conflicted, trying to hold it together while I pleasured her with my hands, cupping her wet pussy through her silky underwear, rubbing firmly on her clit.
“Fuck..,” Karina moaned into the phone.
Her eyes shot open in fear, realizing what she had just said as her husband sounded confused on the other line.
“No... I just found an error in the presentation that’s all,” She quickly recovered.
Smiling, I nodded, our eyes meeting for the first time during this sordid encounter. Her pupils were dilated, washed over in a glaze of lust as her mouth dropped, gaping slightly at the touch of my hands now rubbing her cunt with increased fervor. Easing her underwear to the side, I crept my fingers delicately along the length of her lips, piercing Karina’s slick labia with my digits as I proceeded to stoke the insides of her married cunt.
“God...Unghh..,” Karina gently moaned, holding the phone to her shoulder.
Luckily, Jaewook was in the thralls of an explanation about some work issues he had today, missing his wife’s whispered moans. Slipping in another finger and then another I was basically cupping her sex, removing her soaked underwear completely, placing it in my back pocket while I delved my hand deep within her folds, feeling her walls close in around me. Extending my finger deep inside her tight slit, my digits making contact with her g-spot as applied pressure with my wrist making her twitch and writhe in her chair.
“Jaewook- Jaewook...can…I... call you back..,?” Karina said, her voice now slightly ragged.
Sensing her impending climax, I doubled my efforts flicking her clitoris with my thumb as I rubbed her deep inside her cunt, stimulating her g-spot with my fingers while she creamed all over my hand. Karina’s thighs were covered in her slick juices, my wrist now leaking with her nectar as I felt her cramping up. Her cunt walls squeezing down on my fingers as I impaled my hand within her womb, fucking her with deep steady strokes.
“Shit...mpphhh,” Karina said, moaning into my shoulder as I had moved forward, resting my face next to hers as I attacked her pussy with quicker jabs.
“Babe...you still there?” I heard Jaewook saying on the other line.
“Uhhh...huh…Just finishing up here,” Karina replied.
Her pussy was twitching in my hand as I felt her hips buck, stuffing more of my fingers deeper into her married cunt as she bit down on my shoulder to mask her cries of pleasure while climaxing on my fingers. We stayed in this awkward embrace as I continued to rub at her sex, her pussy leaking down my palms and onto the carpeted floor while she finished her conversation with Jaewook. Hanging up the phone the look on her face turned from the relief of just being brought to orgasm, to more of one of remorse of what had just happened.
Getting up without a word, she held out her hand, wanting me to hand back her sex-soaked underwear to which I refused, standing up and cupping her face in my hands.
“I- can’t...we can’t…” Karina said rather tame.
“We already have,” I replied curtly, planting another kiss on her lips as I eased her back onto the wall behind.
“Wait- seriously...I’m- ughh...married,” She replied, her moans steadily increasing as my hands danced up her dress again.
“Seriously...plll...pleaseeee,” Karina pleaded in vain, her emotions caught between guilt and pleasure as I held a my cum soaked finger to her lips.
“Shhh...allow me to make you feel...better,” I replied.
“I may not be your husband...but you will enjoy this..,” I said, kissing her once more before dropping to my knees.
Karina’s eyes were wanting, slowly turning to my way of thinkings as I proceeded to lift up her dress and take in her essence. The smell of her sex was divine, a mix of the pungent natural notes of her cunt together with the sweet taste of her juice was a dream come true as I licked her slit from the bottom to the top, suckling on her throbbing clit with my lips.
“Mmhh...aahhh..,” Karina groaned lightly, running her fingers through her hair.
I was slowly breaking her resistance, feeling her push her hips into my face as I slung one of her legs over my shoulders while feasting on her slippery pussy. Dragging my tongue up her swollen lips, I pierced her folds, tongue fucking her slit with gradual spears, tasting her cream in my mouth as I eagerly lapped up everything she had to offer.
“Fuck- we...we can’t- ahh…”. Karina moaned louder as I hit the right spot, her clawing more desperate now as she forcefully fed me her cunt.
Karina was on tip toes now, her initial resistance dissipated completely as I had my way with her, licking her pink insides with my tongue as I felt her inevitable climax build. Her thighs were now clamped around my face as I hoovered up her sexual fluids, adding my fingers to the mix, penetrating her sex with my digits while sucking at her reddened clit.
“Shit...shit...mmhh...fuckk...ughh,” Karina yelled, her climax hitting its peak as she shivered and twitched around my lips.
I stayed on my knees for a while, taking in her heavenly taste in my mouth as the sultry woman eased me back to my feet. She was silent, not saying a word, almost as if saying something would be an admission of our wrong doings. If anything, I was leading proceedings backing into my leather-bound chair as I eyed Karina up and down. She knew what I wanted, a slight smirk forming on her lips as she slowly walked towards me.
We kissed softly, as I felt her hands drift slowly down my body as Karina descended to her knees, gently pushing me into my chair. Her expression was livelier riddled with hunger as she bit her lips gently, hurriedly unbuckling my belt and removing my trousers.
I stared at her full lips hovering a mere inch from my throbbing member as she kissed my crown through my boxers. My pre cum leaking onto my cotton underwear as she gently pecked at my cock with her soft lips, tasting the hint of salt soaking through the fabric. It was like watching a beautiful car crash happen in slow motion as Karina freed by cock from by pants, fishing it out and dipping her wet lips along the length of my shaft. Her soft hands feeling my meat with a firm grip that pumped with perfect execution as she finally took me into her wanting mouth, eyes locked on mine for the entirety of the act.
“Mmmm...mmm”. Karina hummed on my dick, while she gave me the best fellatio of my life.
I was lost in the sensations of her tongue lapping up the underside of my shaft in one fluid motion, before sucking down again on my crown, over and over feeding more of my twitching cock between her married lips. Running my fingers through her hair I thrust my hips gently into her wanting mouth as her nose made contact with my pubic bone, deep throating my entire cock till my tip made contact with her tonsils. I held her here for a few precious seconds, feeling her tongue coat my cock in more of her warm spit as she took me to the back of her throat, her eyes flushed with desire.
“Shit- Karina...you feel...soo...good,” I groaned, suddenly disrupted by my office door swing open.
It was Nayoung, holding the company credit card with a grin on her face. The instance she went to speak, Karina had expertly hidden herself under my desk, my cock still sheathed between her lips while she continued to feed on my meat, turning her attention to my sack with long deep licks.
“Boss can we up the limit to say 25 each?” Nayoung said smiling.
“Yeah sure whatever you guys want” I replied, slightly breathless.
Karina was staring at me from below, mouth open, rolling my sack around between her lips, slathering me in spit while I tried maintaining my cool.
“Everything OK Boss, you seem a little uptight?” Nayoung said concerned.
“Yeah...the draft went down well, Karina has just popped out for a call,” I said, a bead of sweat forming on my forehead.
“You sure...?” Nayoung replied.
I felt Karina now clamp down on my balls and suck hard while she pumped my cock with her fist, my shaft straining for release as my orgasm built up rapidly.
“Yes...no problem...keep up the good work,” I said, struggling to keep a straight face.
“Ok boss, we are just outside if you need anything,” Nayoung replied before leaving.
I waited for the footsteps to soften before letting out an almighty yawn thrusting my cock further into Karina’s mouth.
“Shit...Karina...I’m close..,” I moaned, gripping the back of her head as I continued to thrust between her lips.
“Mmm...mmhh...mmhhfff..,” Karina replied, her mouth stuffed with cock as my impending release came.
She never stopped sucking, bringing her mouth around my crown and allowing me to unload inside her oral cavity. Spurt after spurt of my sticky load painted her pink insides, feeding her a torrent of my thick and salty seed, the mother of three just lapping up my sperm with her tongue as she pumped my shaft with her fist, milking my twitching cock to completion while swallowing my load, closing her eyes in euphoria.
It was immense, watching her continue to work my spurting dick with her lips until I grew soft within her mouth. A gentle squeeze of my balls dribbling out the final drops of sperm from my tip into her welcoming tongue.
“God damn Karina...that was intense,” I said breathlessly.
She looked up at me in a cum drunk haze, my seed dripping from her bottom lip.
“So...do I taste better than your husband?” I asked cheekily.
She looked at me with a frown, coming back down to reality after her earth-shattering fellatio, she had just given me.
“I don’t usually let him finish in my mouth..,” Karina said meekly.
“Usually?” I replied.
“Never..,” She said, kissing my tip softly with her lips.
I reached out stroking her face as I scooped up the last dribble of sperm on the side of her mouth, letting the ravishing woman suck it clean from my fingers a smile breaking out on her face at the taste of my essence.
Our sensual connection in that moment was disrupted by the sudden ring of her phone. It was her husband and just like that her mood changed from a state of utter arousal to one of panic and remorse as she stood up, flattening out her dress and grabbing her jacket.
“I... I have to go,” Karina stammered, clearly flustered as her cheeks went a bright red.
“Email me the rest of the slides?” She said turning to me.
“Look- about...what just…” Karina started.
I cut her off, kissing her gently on the lips.
“Go... I will see you in the meeting on Friday,” I said gently.
Karina smiled, avoiding my eye contact, clearly riddled with guilt from what had just transpired, but she clearly enjoyed herself. It gave me a surge of confidence knowing that fact, even if she was not ready to freely admit it herself.
The picture of her locked in the thralls of passion as I felt her up for the first time would forever be seared into my memories. I was officially addicted and I needed to get another hit of her...
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urfavlarry · 3 days
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How are you? I just read the cigarettes after sex fic and I'm giggling and kicking my feet <3 Can I request a Joost Klein x fem!reader that's opposite of his style? Like opposites attract :3
The devil with his angel
Joost Klein x fem!reader
summary: readers style is a bit more feminine and usually wear lighter colours, unlike joost who had a masculine, street wear type of style. you were the prime example of the saying ‘opposites attract’
a/n: reader has a slightly specified outfit, hope thats alright<3
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╰┈➤ ⋆。‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧。⋆
— You and Joost have been dating for a few months in secret, wanting some privacy before revealing anything to the public. It was more for you to build your relationship more and have your peace and quiet for some time, knowing your fans could get a bit hectic. You loved each other dearly, you two filled each other’s empty spaces, you fit together like an ancient puzzle basically soulmates.
In the present, you were currently at Joosts concert, you being on the opposite side of the barrier blocking the fans from rushing to the stage giving you your space. You were smiling, singing along to his songs. You only started learning dutch when you started dating Joost to show your dedication to this relationship and how much he meant to you, and so you could support him during his concerts like you were doing now. You didn’t fit in the crowd however at all, everyone wearing more darker colours, or something not that bright meanwhile you were here in a floral dress, some white stockings, mary janes and some accessories. You stood out like a black sheep, which was ironic since you were the only one NOT wearing black. You stood closer to the stage, taking some photos of Joost on your polaroid camera he got you on your birthday. You smiled, everyone would be able to tell you were love struck if your back wasn’t facing them.
Joost was in the middle of playing his song ´Droom Groot’ , it was clear he loved performing the atmosphere of his concerts were never dull, always some kind of emotions were being felt during his concerts. The end of the song was nearing, the “Yes, yes, ladies and gentlemen this was Joost Klein with his hit single ´Dome Groot’ “ You smiled softly, Joost looking down at you with a smile before crouching and cupping your cheek in his hand, giving you a kiss on the lips. Your eyes went wide and your cheeks got hotter, the crowd screaming and whistling, even some gasps were heard. It really was a strange sight, you really were polar opposites.
The next day the media went crazy. You were on every media, trending somewhere in the tops 10s. You scrolled through all the articles, some fans were beyond excited and celebrated the union of their two favourite artists, while others were dumbfounded. They had no idea how such polar opposittes could have found their way to each other. Joost came out the shower, towel loosely tied on his hips as he dried his hair. He came towards you and looked at your phone. “How bad is it?” He asks, a smile on his face. You return his smile, looking up at him. “It’s a mix of ‘oh my god i’m so happy for them’ and ‘how are they even together’ but that was more than expected.” You say and he nods kissing your forehead. “Yeah, but i’m glad I don’t have to hide my love for you anymore.”
Despite the media going crazy, you two embraced your public relationship, attending events together and Joost couldn’t help to always post something about you somewhere, your styles making you guys even more magnetic. Fans slowly started to see the connection between you two, acceptance growing more by the day. One time you both had to speak up about your relationship a bit more, since death threats started to be thrown into your inboxes left and right.
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Joost Klein
@joostklein✓
It’s funny how you all see our styles and think we’re two worlds apart. Aside our styles were just two people who have passion for music and love each other.
Liked by bambiethug, {yourusername} and 2,082,096 others
user79107 and 568K others commented
bambiethug: you two are such sweethearts!! sending you all the love and protection from evil<3
user6618990: JOOST NOO MY HUSBAND
fucktheebu replied to user6618990: grow up you’re like 12
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{your nickname}
@{yourusername} ✓
I get we have different styles but giving us death threats? Wow..
You don’t see more then what we put on the media, you don’t know what our relationship is like behind closed doors. We may have different styles but we love each other and have the same passion for music, we basically balance each other out in our own way. Sending love to everyone that supported us xx
Liked by joostklein, user97741 and 1,980,762 others
hihixlovers and 567K others commented
lolianx: ❤️❤️ love your dynamic fr
apsondabluebirdha: tell them!!
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After that the whole thing calmed down. You two lived your lives more peacefully and you didn’t have to hide anymore. The both of you made a song together, tours sold out and your albums too. It was nice but it did add some stress to your career. You managed it all together always being there for one another despite your slight differences. You cherished every moment together, whether it was a simple night out, cooking together, singing silly songs together or just cuddling and watching a movie, all of it was just perfect.
You were currently in prague, performing a concert there together. You were the opener of Joosts concerts, since you didn’t really have the finances to two different tours so you decided on being the opener which you were more than happy to do.
You sat in a café, admiring the view of prague and also lost in thought. Joost was talking about the upcomig concerts, talking about the new places he wanted to see. He noticed your dazed state and stopped talking, putting a hand on yours as if to silently as if you’re okay. “Just thinking.” You say and he raises a brow; “About?” He pries and you chuckle softly. “I mean, do you ever think about how unlikely this is? Us, I mean.” You ask he he thinks for a moment, gathering his thought before soeaking up; “All the time. And every single time I realize how lucky I am to have you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I appreciate you.” You smiled, heart full of his enduring words. “Same here Joost, same here.”
About half a year later, your one year anniversary came. You were standing on stage, just finishing a song you wrote together just a few months ago. Cheers were heard throughout the crowd, signs with words like “We love you!” “You saved me.” “We’re proud of you.” were held high in the air, your heart melting. Realisation hit you like a truck as Joost picked you up and spinned you around, smiling wildly. He put you down, resting his forehead against yours, sweat dripping down from all the jumping around you’ve done during this concert. You smiles lovingly, holding his hands, fingers interwined. “We did it Joost.” “Yeah, we did.” In that moment you knew you found the right person. You realised you wanted to spend the rest of your days on this earth with this man, in his embrace, in his presence. Together you created beautiful and unforgettable memories that defied expectations, showing that sometimes, the most gorgeous harmonies come from the most unexpected places.
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alotofpockets · 3 days
Text
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Just like Mama | Alexia Putellas x Reader
Where your daughter wants to be just like her mama
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.1k
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“Mama scored!” Your daughter Talia jumped up from the couch and ran a celebratory lap around the coffee table, ending her lap in your arms. 
“Yes she did! Did you see that she did your celebration, Carinyo?” She nodded enthusiastically. “Mama scored for me.” You kiss her on her cheek. “She always does.” Talia cuddles back into your side, as the match plays on.
Since Talia had started pre-school you weren’t able to go see her Mama play as often as you used to. You went to all the home games, but away games that involve travelling, were less practical now that your baby was growing. Despite not always being able to go watch your wife’s matches live, you and Talia never missed a match. 
Alexia had been nervous about not being related to your daughter by blood, when you were still pregnant, but while Talia was biologically yours, she was a carbon copy of your wife. They shared the same passion for football, the same big heart, the same shyness, and the characteristics were uncanny. 
“Mommy?” You hear the sadness laced into your daughter’s voice, and are fast to her side. “What’s wrong, Carinyo?” With big sad eyes she tells you that she misses her Mama. “I miss her too. Do you know what I like to do when I miss Mama?” Your four year old shakes her head, but you could tell in her eyes that you had piqued her interest. 
You grab your phone out of your pocket. “I like to look at pictures of Mama, and think about the memories I have from those moments. Would you like to give it a try?” You took Talia crawling into your lap as a yes and got the first picture ready on your phone.
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“Hey, we have that one at home!” Talia instantly recognised the Ballon d’Or trophy that sat on the shelves of your home office. “Yeah, that’s right. Mama won two of these trophies, they’re called Ballon d’Or’s. This was the first time she won it, and it means that she was the best footballer that season.” Talia nodded with a content smile, “Mama is the best.”
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“Do you know who that is, Carinyo?” Talia observes the next image. Alexia holding a baby in her arms. “Is that me, Mommy?” You nod with a smile on your face. “It is! That’s the day that Mama and I got to bring you home from the hospital for the first time.” The memory brings a smile to your face. Bringing Talia home for the first time had been both scary and amazing. It was your and Alexia’s first time being alone with Talia, no more doctors around to help you as the first time parents that you were. But also the moment the reality of your family expanding started to feel real. No longer just the two of you at home, but now a family of three.
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“This one isn’t from too long ago. Remember Mama’s birthday?” Talia thought for a moment before exclaiming, “We had cake!” You chuckle at the part of the day she remembered, but she wasn’t wrong. “That’s right, we did have cake.”
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The next picture on your phone brings an instant smile to your face, it’s an image of your wife posing on a bridge over the canals of Amsterdam. “This is when I took Mama on a little weekend trip to Amsterdam. It was a very special trip, do you know why?” Talia shakes her head. “Why Mommy?” You place a loving kiss onto her head. “I’ll tell you why, Carinyo. I told Mama we were going to have a baby on this trip, that we were pregnant with you.” Talia seems deep in thought for a moment. “Mommy, have I been to Amsterdam?” 
“Well only when you were still a tiny baby growing in my tummy.” With a determined look she turned your way. “Can we go now that I’m a big girl?” 
You loved your little girl with all your heart, and yes to you she would always be your little girl, no matter how often she would say she’s a big girl now. “Yeah, Carinyo, I think we can take a little trip as a family when Mama has some time off next.” Content with that answer, Talia requested the next picture.
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“In this one Mama had just won the World Cup, and that’s you celebrating with her on the field.” Talia was too young to remember the moment, but it would forever be one you’d hold close to your heart. Your wife accomplished something incredible and for the first time she was able to celebrate a trophy with her daughter. 
While your mind went back to 2023 and the moment the final whistle blew, watching the girls win, your daughter’s mind was focussed on something else. “Mama had pink hair.” You remember Ale coming home from running errands with her hair dyed a bright pink a few days before leaving for the World Cup. To say you were surprised was an understatement, sure Alexia dyed her hair every now and then, but usually they had been neutral colours. You loved her with any hair colour though, even the pink looked amazing on her.
“Can I have pink hair like Mama, please?” You were hesitant at first, but the many pleas that followed after with the best puppy dog eyes Talia could manage, you caved. “Alright, why not. Let’s surprise Mama with it.” 
Talia was overjoyed with her new hair, and walked around saying “Just like Mama.” every time she saw herself in a reflection. 
Clad in her FC Barcelona kit, you took her to pick up your wife. The moment she saw Ale she ran towards her Mama. First she ran in for a hug, cause she missed her so much, but after she stepped back and proudly showed off her hair. “Look Mama, just like you!” Alexia took in the look, and smiled at her daughter, “Just like Mama, I like it. You look very pretty.” 
She picked up Talia and walked to your side. “Surprising me like I surprised you before the World Cup?” She smirked.
You raise your hand in surrender, “It was all her idea, I just provided the hair dye.” She pecked your lips and hugged you with Talia still in her arms. “Let’s go home. I’ve missed cuddling with my favourite girls.”
----- 💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗
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cheriladycl01 · 2 days
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Can you do a cute one shot please where reader gets drunk and she’s a super lovey and cute drunk and just wants cuddles with Max or Lando please?? Love 🍷 anon who is deffo not drunk and crying over max edits 🥰🥰
Drunk in Love - Lando Norris x Drunk Reader x Max Verstappen
Plot: Your were drinking for England after your first podium. To the point where you can’t tell the difference between your boyfriend Lando Norris and team-mate Max Verstappen.
Warning: Throwing up, General drunkenness.
A/N: This request was hard to choose whether i wanted it centered around Max or Lando, so i added Max being cutie.
Credit to il-predestinato for the GIF
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You'd gotten your first podium and you were in a celebrating that in a London Club after the British GP. There was a load of drivers in the club with you including your boyfriend Lando Norris.
You were being offered drinks from pretty much everyone in the room, it was absolutely insane and you'd taken so many drinks without even thinking how much you'd had.
You vision was so blurry, and you were at the point where being this intoxicated was scaring you and you just wanted to get back to your apartment that you kept in London while Lando had the Monaco apartment.
"Lan!" you cry looking up at who you thought was your boyfriend because of the shirt he was wearing. It the shape, same colour and same material when you leaned in to touch it as what Lando was wearing.
Your vision was beyond fucked and you couldn't even make out your boyfriends beautiful face.
"Baby!" you cried at him, tugging him towards you, your eyes blurring more with tears as you struggle to get his attention. The body turns round, and Max is now looking down at his friends very drunk state.
"Y/N?" he asks looking over at you bending down.
"Lan, please baby. I love you but I want to go home!" you say nuzzling into his neck and wrapping your arms around his middle.
"Oh-erm Y/N" Max tries but because of how loud the club is your drunk self cant even tell that it's Max and his Dutch accent that is talking to you and trying to pry you off of him.
"Why are you trying to get me to let go! You love cuddles!" you pout looking down.
"Do you not love me anymore?" you gasp before sobs start to rack through your body at the thought of Lando, the love of your life no longer wanting to be with you.
"Hey, Hey shush!" Max comforts you, pulling you in for a hug and brushing you hair with his hand in a polite manner. You nuzzle into the hug, and you started to feel strange, this didn't feel like a Lando hug, it didn't feel like your Lando full stop.
This body was taller, but not as built as Lando. It didn't feel right. And you couldn't help but wonder who on earth this imposter was.
Max was asking around him, trying to get Charles and Carlos to find where Oscar, Logan and Lando had all wondered off to away from you.
"You are my boyfriend! WHO ARE YOU?" you ask your eyes squiting to try have a better look at the man in front of you.
"Y/N it's me Max!" he smiles kindly putting his hand on your upper arm to steady you as he can see your swaying.
"I want Lando, please get Lando!" you ask with little gasps of breath, sounding like hiccups while you try to catch you breathe a little.
"Carlos has gone looking for him, look come sit down here next to Charlie and Daniel, i'll go help Carlos!" Max says leading you next to Charles who moves over a little in the booth to give you room to get in.
You sit there quietly waiting for Lando's return.
Max was practically running round the club, looking to spy Lando or even Carlos so they could team up and look for the trio together.
After looking he finds them out on the balcony looking down at the busy London street below.
"Lando!" Max shouts making all their heads snap round.
"What's up?" Lando asks putting his drink down making it clink on the glass of the table.
"It's Y/N she's like ... I've never seen her this drunk before. She didn't even know I was me, she thought i was you!" he explains and Lando looks between Oscar and Logan with a shocked look.
"We left her for what... like half an hour!" Lando sighs before following Max back inside leaving Oscar and Logan to their own devices out on the balcony.
"Baby?" Lando asks tentatively, seeing you slouched against Charles.
"Lan!" you exclaim, jumping up and launching yourself at him. You hug him and he wraps you into a familiar warm bear hug and you know that it's him now.
"There's MY Lan!" you smile, nuzzling into him. He kisses your forehead before pulling you back and bending down to your level to look over your face. He could see how spacey your eyes look and that it's for sure about time you should be leaving.
"Come on baby lets go!" he smiles and you shake your head with a soft whine.
"My feet hurt so much" you say groggily and he cant help but laugh at the little pouty expression on his face.
"That's okay, I can carry you baby" he smiles and lifts you up as though you were the weight of a feather. He carries you bridle style all the way back to your apartment which was actually on a 15 minute walk through London.
"I love you so much! I'm sorry about tonight!" you sighed at him, not enjoying filming guilty for making him leave this early.
"Why are you sorry darling!" he laughs as he places you down in the now moving elevator of your apartment building.
"Because i made you leave early from the fun because I don't feel well!" you pout, grabbing his arm and hugging it close against you. He just smiles down at you. You were normally very affectionate anyway but drunk you was very clingy and needy.
Not that Lando minded, he actually loved it.
"Come on baby, it's bed time for the both of us. No need to feel guilty, I was kinda wanting to come back for a nice cuddle session with you anyway!" he grins and you then look down.
"Shower!" you complain looking at him as the lift doors open to your pent house. He carries you straight through to the bathroom, you collapse to your knees throwing up all the contents from that night.
Tears brim your eyes hating the sensation, while Lando rubs your back soothingly trying to help make sure you can breath.
"Okay, lets wash this down and then get you in there to clean up yeah hunny?" he smiles at you, grabbing the shower head down and turning the water on washing the sick from the floor of the shower down the drain until its gone. He helps you step in undressing you, then himself.
He helps you shower, not trusting you alone in the shower by yourself in this state before drying you off and brushing you teeth for you.
You both snuggle up in the big bed, you cuddling into him playing with his curls.
"I love you!" you whispers looking up at his expression.
"I love you more" he smiles placing a kiss on your lips before turning the lights off with the remote and laying his head back to sleep.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall l @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
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sweetnans · 1 day
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love me already
Pairing: f. reader/bakugo katsuki Summary: dual POV where mc is tired of waiting for Bakugo to be truth and confess his feelings for her. tw: none. Just fluff and chaos.
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"Y'know, I think I'll just tell Bakugo I like him." You were drunk, and a sort sense of boldness invaded you all of a sudden.
"Girl, don't do that." Mina put his hands on your bare thigh from your skirt ridden up. "Wait till you sober up"
You were hanging with Mina after a month of not seeing each other, being pro heroes tide up your schedule so you were out of reach most of the time, only reachable by the phone. You had a blast of a night, went clubbing, and drank while dancing like old times.
"He's playing with my mind, I swear," the words spurred out of your system, and you felt like you might start to cry in any second. "He's always sending texts and asking if I'm hurt after a fight and-"
"Hey! He doesn't do that to me!" Mina whined, putting his left hand above his heart.
"Exactly! He's this obsessive fucker who thinks he's better than everyone else, always so cocky and he had me wrapped around his fingers with the details that I know he only do to me, so obnoxious" you let a sigh trying to come down from your despertarion but something made you see red again. "And yet he'd never confessed! I'm tired Mina what if he's just playing with me and doesn't want anything serious just fuck with me and hop to the next. Maybe he thinks I'm playing hard to get, and now I'm kind of a challenge to him, you know the bastard"
Now you were upset.
"Mmhm, just give him some time. He has had a crush on you since we were at UA" Mina bit his nails and poured another glass for you.
"Exactly, that's what everyone says! His mom, his dad even Midoriya who can't catch a fucking clue even if it's tingling in front of his eyes. If He thinks I'm going to wait forever for him to grow a pair of balls? He's got another thing coming. " You downed the entire glass, and Mina hurried to pour another.
...
"She haven't talked to me in an hour," Katsuki stated, folding some papers on his desk.
"Man, it's her night off duty, I heard Mina said that they were going out tonight," Kirishima made a spun in his chair. "Partying and doing girl's shit"
Bakugo hated staying in the office so late, but the papers were not going to fill themselves out. At least Kirishima was there with him, trying to calm him down, but doing a pretty bad job.
"I swear if Mina let her fall into a ditch again I'm going to-"
"For fuck sake, bro!" Kirishima rolled his eyes, almost disappearing in his skull. "It was one time! Let it go. She was fine and giggling like a mad woman when you went to her rescue"
"I just worry about her," he grunted. "I'm a hero, that's my work"
"Yeah, with civilians, but she's a real hero, y'know." Kirishima pushed. Not in the six years that he'd seen Bakugo after you, has he been able to get the real confession out of his mouth.
Bakugo checked his phone again. Nothing.
...
"I'm going to get up there and tell him that I'm done waiting for him"
You didn't know how you convinced Mina into your crazy idea, but now you were outside, in front of your apartment's lobby, waiting for a cab.
"Don't you think you need to reconsider, maybe? You're tipsy honey, what if he's not even there" Mina tried to talk to you out of it, but she knew better, you were stubborn as hell, the least she could do was following you and making sure that, this time, you didn't end up in a ditch.
"He's there, he told me," you stopped a cab lifting a finger and told the driver the direction.
The way to Katsuki's agency was a haze. You remember looking at Mina, her eyes closed, trying to rest before the chaos breaks loose.
"Do you know what you are going to say?" She mumbled with her eyes closed and grabbed your hand to reaffirm her company and her friendship.
You had no idea.
...
"This is taking ages," Kirishima complained, trying to read the papers and arrange them by dates. "Why can't we just shred them and pretend it didn't happen?"
"The TV broadcasted the fight, you dumbass"
Katsuki was tired too, but he needed to make and fill the reports before tomorrow morning.
"Did she answered you?" Kirishima asked.
It was a lame night. He was practically locked up with his best friend all alone in his office. He had a purpose, and that was making him confess his love for you.
"No," he briefly checked his phone again before returning his eyes to the files. "What if she's in a ditch?"
"She's not!" Kirishima raised his voice qhile laughing, and Katsuki only grunted in response. "So what's the deal with her? You still like her or what?"
"Who told you I liked her in the first place?" He was smug about his answer, not giving away any hint of his real feelings for you.
"C'mon, everybody knows," something dark flowed into Kirishima's mind. He felt like a child poking a mad dog with a stick. "At least in our class, I mean, I remember Todoroki showing interest in her once, and you completely beat him up in spared fight, and Mirio that time he gave her a flower from the patio, you were fuming I still remember the red shade of angry in the tips of your ears"
"Keep working"
That phrase only gave him more fuel to continue the poking the beast game.
"Man, why don't you just be truth to yourself? Like, is it that hard to accept the feelings you have for her? She's amazing, smart, beautiful, She's a beast on the field and has a great heart. What's the problem, Dynamight?
He touched a sensitive fiber using his hero name. He always bragged about being the best, bold and facing everything, and everybody who dared to get in his way, but he was acting like a real pussy with you.
"I'm scared I'm not good enough, you happy?" He was upset, and Kirishima was astonished with his confession. He expected an angry gremlin yelling at him for being so annoying, spurring out his confession between variabilities of insults, but he didn't expect his best friend, the know it all and do it all feeling like he wasn't enough.
"Not enough? Have you seen yourself in the mirror lately? Yeah, of course you have a shitty attitude, but you care for her. You're the main example of manliness. You are always taking care of her, giving her your attention, making time for taking her out of a ditch while you were patrolling, I mean, I would've left her there" Kirishima joked to make Bakugo less worried about himself. "I'm telling you man, you are it for her, but you gotta hurry the fuck up because what you see in her, everybody could see it too"
In the quietness of his office, full of papers with his best friend, giving shitty but quiet good advice, he realized that he needed to tell you his feelings, he couldn't wait anymore time.
...
You sobered up real quick. Having the massive building in front of you in the middle of a cold and freezing night, returned every sense that you needed in your body.
"You are doubting" Mina established.
"I'm freezing," you counterattacked. "Why didn't you tell me to put some jeans on?"
The dancing and the drinking made you feel hot and raised your temperature and you knew it, so you put on a skirt before going out without thinking you would come out of the house after coming from the club.
The lights were on, in the floor where Bakugo's office was situated. If you squinted your eyes, you could even see the shapes of Kirishima's and Bakugo's bodies through the glass. Or you were just still drunk.
"He won't be there forever, and you're going to catch a cold if you keep us waiting here for something to happen," Mina urged, hugging herself to keep the cold out.
"You're right, it's now or never," you said, walking determinated into the big glass doors to make yourself in.
With Mina behind you, you pushed the doors, and the guard glanced at you. He recognized you and Mina immediately, but you two put your credentials out just for safety. He gave you a nod and you continued your way to the elevator.
"Are you nervous?" Mina asked while you pressed the elevator button.
"Like shit." You watched the countdown in red numbers above the elevator doors. The elevator was in Bakugo's floor so no one was around.
The ding in the elevator startled you a little, and the turmoil in your stomach didn't make it any better. Mina pushed you through the open doors and pressed the button to Bakugo's floor.
...
"Thank god it's done." Kirishima was spining in his chair while Katsuki looked for his stuff to bring them home with him. "Are you ready to face your true feelings?"
Kirishima didn't drop the topic after the big confession and the great advice, he kept pushing his best friend and giving him ideas on how to tell you, some of them were good and some of them were trash, but Bakugo just listened and ignored at the same time.
"Shut the fuck up" Katsuki growled lowly stuffing his belonging into his black backpack.
"Isn't it romantic? Like, after all this time, you could just walk in with a bouquet of flowers and, wait no, walking? That's lame. What about a white horse? Yeah, that's manly. " Kirishima was hopeless, and even though Bakugo showed a scowl at his words he was actually having fun.
"No horses, but maybe a bouquet will be cool," he was making peace with his own feelings. At the end of the day, what was the worst that could happen?
...
"I think I'm going to pee, shit," you pressed your bladder, and Mina laughed at you.
"You can't be serious right now, we are halfway," she said while you danced funny in front of her.
"I'm sorry I process my emotions somatically," you started to feel cloudy, and your hands started to sweat.
"Hey, relax. He's so into you, maybe he'll stand like a rock for the first three seconds but then he will be all over you confessing, don't worry, and if I'm wrong you can always have Shindo"
You made a gag.
"I hate Shindo," you told her.
"But he follow you like a puppy," Mina imitated a cute puppy joining his hands under her chin and poked out her tongue.
The elevator stopped with a big thump, and you feared in a good way. You had your adrenaline up, and there were still remains of booze in your system to give you a boost.
"It's time, big girl." Mina patted your shoulder and gave you a little push.
...
Kirishima stretched himself, and Bakugo took his backpack, grabbing the zipper of a back pocket to fetch the keys of his office to close it.
He was busy looking for the keys when Kirishima started patting him in the arm repeatedly.
"What?" He told him tired and with heavy eyes. Kirishima's eyes were the exact opposite of him. They were big and surprised, looking at the other side of the glass doors of his office.
He followed Kirishima's look and stopped in you.
At first, he thought it was a kind of a mirage, then he thought that maybe he was more tired than he realized, and then he thought that maybe it was a villain whose quirk was morphing into peoples body's.
Every thought ended at the sound of your voice.
...
You walked through the hallway, practicing a speech of what you were going to say to him. You did it over and over, stumbling words in your own mind. You were there, physically and mentally, ready to take all your feelings for him out. You couldn't chicken out.
You saw his figure in the last office at the end of the hallway, body contouring to grab something from his backpack.
Kirishima was the first to notice you, his eyes wide open at the sight of you two walking in the middle of the night like you owned the place. He gave multiple pats to Bakugo's arm, and from afar, you could notice that he was tired.
Maybe your boldness wasn't the best thing to do at that moment.
You couldn't make your way out because he turned his gaze from the backpack to you in a second. By his look, you could see the gears in his brain moving to give some sort of explanation of what was happening in front of him.
He opened the door, forgetting completely that Kirishima was in his way. The red-haired boy pushed him a little, giving him courage, not caring that his best friend kinda kicked him, stumbling against him.
You two were in the same hallway looking face to face. Your two best friends a step back making themselves a crowd in what was about to happen.
"What are -" Katsuki started disoriented, looking for proof or a mark that you were injured or hurt.
"Shut up," you told him. Katsuki was very surprised at your determined tone.
"I'm liking this already," Kirishima muttered behind Katsuki, grinning like the Chesire cat.
The silence between the four of you was something that was eating your bones. It wasn't awkward, but it was heavy. You told him to shut up, but you weren't talking either, and you knew it. All the speech that you practiced before vanishing from your mind.
"Are you-
"Are you going to love me already!?"
You spoke at the same time, but your message was clear. Mina was right, Katsuki stood like he was made of stone, rigid, stoic, not even a muscle moving from your confession.
You sounded desperate. You blamed your thoughts, your desire to go pee, that you were at least fifteen percent still drunk and that you were freezing. You wanted to get over this chapter in your life, you didn't want to fool around any longer and for that you needed to know if Katsuki was on the same page as you.
"Oh my god," Mina said, holding his face with both hands.
"Shh," Kirishima silenced her. "This is better than the ditch episode"
You could tell that the booze in your system worn off just by waiting for Katsuki's response. The tic tac in your intern clock made it impossible to bear the silence.
"Are you going to say something, or are you going to stay there forever?" You hurried him, trying to hide the anxious feeling that you felt coming out of your voice.
...
Kirishima kicked Bakugo's heavy boots to take him out of his trance. It worked.
You always said to him that you were half witch, at least, always feeling before it happened. He wandered if this was one of those situations.
"I'm-
It was the first time that he felt speechless. He knew you from head to toe, and now he noticed that you were under the effects of alcohol but sounded sure about it. The way that you let it out was some kind of outburst from the time he took to process what he really felt about you. He knew he treated you differently. He liked spending time with you, and he found himself checking his phone very often, looking for a message from you. He was whipped.
He saw your bottom lip quivering, and he knew he had to do something.
...
It happened quickly.
First, you throwing your feelings at him like it was a ball of fire, then his eternal silence, and after that, your guts twisting inside of you, your throat closing, your nose pricking and your bottom lip trembling.
It was over for your fantasies with him.
Was it the worst-case scenario? Yes. Will you be able to get over it? Absolutely. Will the healing process hurt? Like hell.
You were weighing your options when the sound of heavy boots against the carpeted floor woke you up from your suffering.
He was a mere inch from you. Your body and his body were separated by a thin layer of air. You could feel the air coming out from his nose, hitting your forehead. He was tall, and you were almost the size of a elf.
"Never call me out about what I already do"
That's everything that came out of his mouth before joining his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. He wasn't gentle, but the way that he grabbed you by both sides of your face made you float in your spot.
You didn't have the time to process what he said or why he said that, forgetting what you said first, but ignoring the cheerful sounds coming from your friends mouth, you could only concentrate in his mouth moving against yours. Finally.
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haikyu-mp4 · 3 days
Text
Classroom duty
word count; 1317 – f!reader
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Iwaizumi was on classroom duty this week and he used to hate that. It meant that he got to volleyball practice late and didn’t even have time for a healthy snack. In addition, he had to make some kind of small talk with whoever he was paired with. It goes by the pairs in which the desks are placed and he was never the best at socialising outside of the athletic world.
However, classroom duty wasn’t so bad this time around, because ever since last break, he was paired up with you. Iwa didn’t notice you that much before, he just knew you were bright and kind. And of course, he couldn’t deny to the universe that you were nice to look at, but he would still keep trying to deny it to his friends. 
He knew he was fond of you. You with the cartoonish drawings of the teacher on the sides of your notes so you could make him smile in class. You with the lipgloss that looked like it might not taste good, despite how it made your lips look so biteable. You with the evil little laugh every time your paper ball would hit the trash and his didn’t. Yeah, Hajime Iwaizumi was very fond of you.
“Iwa?”
“Sorry,” he shook his head and chuckled awkwardly, glancing around at the pristine classroom. “What did you say?”
You snorted a laugh and turned around pointing to the garbage bags collected by the door and ready to be thrown away. “I said, let’s go?” Hajime spurred into action, happily finishing up here and putting those muscles to good use.
Usually, there was this thing where the people on classroom duty did rock paper scissors for who took the trash, letting the other off. No one knows who started it, but it stuck. Oikawa seemed to believe you and Hajime were the only ones who didn’t follow tradition.
“Why does she even go with you when all she does is hold up the lid on the trash can while you do all the heavy lifting?” Oikawa complained now that his best friend was finally back in his volleyball uniform. Some might say he was jealous.
Iwaizumi shrugged, about to answer when someone else did from behind him, making him turn around and causing Oikawa to lift a brow at the interruption.
“Sounds like she likes you.”
“Mad dog?” Oikawa exclaimed dramatically with a gasp. Kyotani glared at the setter.
“No, we just do it that way, you know?“ Iwaizumi said, sounding a bit like he was fishing to hear it again. Hear that you might like him.
“Okay, whatever,” Kyotani grumbled. Charming as ever. His two per cent of extra respect for Iwaizumi went into that effort and now it was spent.
They went back to practice, and Oikawa forgot about the interrupted gossip as soon as the practice game started, leaving Iwaizumi to mull this over himself. When this week was over, would you stop talking to him so much?
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The next morning, you’re both there early to prepare the classroom, and Iwaizumi greeted you with a shy nod. “Last day!” you cheered. Iwaizumi’s eyes followed you for a few seconds as you skipped over to the teacher’s desk, where you picked up the note left by the teacher and then walked over to the chalkboard to prepare it. He liked how you were always so bright, even as you had to be there earlier than everyone else. And then he was happy to see you weren’t invincible, when you looked a little more tired in the evening while walking out with the trash, stubborn smile still directed at him like you refused to give up.
But for now, it’s still morning. “You sound excited, any plans this weekend?” he asked, leaving the mop in the corner after mopping the floors. Then he strolled up beside you, picking up the sponge to go wet it. You turned to glance at him exactly when he turned away. Maybe he’ll ask me out if I say no?
“Not much. Just happy it’s the last day we have to do these chores,” you said, seemingly carefree in adding little hearts and stars around what the teacher wanted. It made Iwa smile as he placed the wet sponge on the little edge beneath the chalkboard.
Wait, she’s happy we’re done? Maybe Kyotani is totally clueless. “Oh,” he said, not meaning to. “Me too.”
“That doesn’t sound very convincing,” you teased, putting the chalk down and turning to him. “You like taking the trash out?”
“Maybe…” he said defensively, clenching his fists and then unclenching them again. “I like hanging out with you.” There, at least he said something.
“Iwaizumi…” He looked at you hopefully but glanced away quickly when he realised his face was burning. “You know we still sit beside each other when the week is finished, right? It’s not like I’ll stop talking to you.”
Iwaizumi’s eyes widened, embarrassment sinking into every nerve of his body because he hadn’t much thought about that. “Of course,” he said first like it was instinctual. I just like hanging out with you alone. That’s what he should have said. Instead, he stuttered out meaningless sounds for a second before the bell rang and students started rushing to their seats, meaning you had to move too.
Oikawa sighed from the entrance to the classroom, in absolute disbelief at how his best friend, the ace of all aces, in his opinion, could fumble so badly for a girl.
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“Iwa-chan!” Iwaizumi closed his eyes at the agitating, grating voice that interrupted his peaceful lunch on a bench outside in the sun.
“Shittykawa.”
“Hey! I’m here to help you.” He sat down beside his best friend, opening his bento and stuffing some food in his mouth. Iwaizumi was chewing slowly and waiting to hear more with a disinterested look on his face.
“With?”
“Your love life.”
Oikawa went on a rant about grand gestures, making some very grand gestures himself while explaining, and Iwa could just not figure out why the girls swooned for him when he looked so stupidly invested in his stupid plan for his stupid love life.
“Are you even listening?” Oikawa asked, angrily stuffing another spoonful of food into his mouth.
“Absolutely not. I will not be renting a horse and armour.” And even though that was evidence he had in fact listened, Oikawa was not pleased that his best friend didn’t seem to understand what an expert in love he was. “She’s probably not even interested.”
“Iwa!” Another voice said, making him turn around and almost knock over the water bottle beside his bento.
“That you listen to.” Oikawa mocked from his side, but anything he said went in one ear and out the other once again, when his eyes fell on you.
“Hey,” Hajime greeted you, somewhat awkwardly as you hadn’t chatted much outside the classroom or on the way to the trash containers. “What’s up?”
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” you asked, your words sharing space with a sigh as you had jogged over.
“He’s not,” Oikawa answered, and while that would normally make him annoyed, he just repeated it while still looking at you.
“I’m not.”
“Maybe we can go out for some ice cream? Or a coffee?” you asked further, and it was obvious that you were nervous despite trying to seem confident, not smiling like you usually did. He didn’t answer right away, so you involuntarily went into a word vomit. “I was waiting for you to ask, but then you didn’t and if you’re not interested then we can just forget this, but…” You stopped and looked at him hopefully, one hand on either hip.
“Take him, please.”
Iwaizumi didn’t even need to look to plant his hand over Oikawa’s face before giving you an endearing smile. “I’m interested. Coffee sounds perfect.”
masterlist
/a special thanks to @cottonlemonade for helping me with my writer's block for this one
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lemonlover1110 · 10 hours
Note
can we get Toji reacting to reader's pregnancy
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Ever since finding out that you’re eating for two, you’ve found yourself distressed. Not because this isn’t something that you were planning– Well partially because of that, but mainly because you don’t know what your boyfriend thinks of having more kids. You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re expecting.
You don’t know how you’ve never had this conversation before, especially since you’ve started to talk about getting married. You know that he has a teenager, and probably he’s done with that part of his life. You also know that you’d be delighted to have kids, but if Toji wouldn’t want to have a child, you’re okay with that too. Your pregnancy changes everything though.
“Aren’t you two here early?” You ask, staring at the front door as Megumi and Toji walk in. Toji has a frown in his face while Megumi walks ahead, not a care in the world. You notice a stain on his school uniform and you tell him, “Put it in the washer, I’ll take care of it, Megs.”
“No, he can deal with the consequences of his actions in his little vacation.” Toji quickly speaks up, making you cock an eyebrow. You look back and forth between Toji and Megumi, hoping someone is going to fill you in. “Go to your room, Megumi. I can’t stand to look at your face anymore.”
“What happened?” You direct your attention to your husband since Megumi listens to his father and goes to his room. Toji sighs, walking over to you and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t tell me he–”
“Got into a fight. Got called in the middle of work to deal with his ass– Hey, at least he won.” Toji can’t help but chuckle because even though he’s mad, part of him still feels oddly proud. His kid is somewhat of a troublemaker, but hey, at least the kid can fight. He says something that makes the thoughts of worry that you pushed to the back of your mind, come back and even stronger. “Just glad I don’t have to deal with this much longer.”
“Right.” You awkwardly laugh. You follow Toji to your living room, and take a seat beside him on your couch. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, you do this all the time, but Toji immediately knows that something is off. Your face wastes no time in telling on you.
“You okay? You look a little off.” Toji comments, throwing his arm over you and bringing you closer to him. You’re a little far today when you’re usually all over him. The man loves his personal space, but not when it comes to you. 
“Weird day… Weird week.” You mutter the last part, but Toji hears it loud and clear. He kisses the top of your head before asking,
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” He proceeds to kiss the top of your head, and you bite down your lip. You have to tell him eventually, and you know that maybe this isn’t the right time to tell him, but he senses something is up.
“What do you think about having kids with me?” You speak a little fast, and if he wasn’t listening closely, he would have to ask you to repeat yourself. Toji takes a moment to think about it, acting perplexed. His silence is killing you and just when you’re about to repeat the question, he speaks up.
“Is this about the pregnancy test I found in the bathroom?” Toji mentions, and your eyes go wide. He’s known? He’s known all this time? He ends up kissing the tip of your nose before pecking your lips, “I’m happy with anything as long as I get to do it with you.”
“What about the comment that you made–” You begin and he interrupts you. 
“Was about Megumi, I’m making sure this one isn’t a troublemaker.” Toji clarifies as his hand goes to your lower abdomen. “I’m excited about this. I was wondering how long it’d take you to share.”
“Next time, speak up, I was scaring myself to death.” You lightly slap his chest, and he chuckles. You’re glaring at him, while he smirks at you. “You’re in so much trouble right now. Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
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cheeseceli · 3 days
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Won't let go
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Pairing: Hwang Hyunjin × Gn!reader (established relationship)
Genre: headcanons, fluff
Prompt: "I swear to God when I come home I'll hold you so close, I'll never let go"
Warnings: Hyunjin is an idol, reader lives in Korea with him (no nationality mentioned)
A/n: you have never seen hyunjin and James Arthur in the same place | join the 1k event!
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Lately, Hyunjin has been smiling a lot whenever he's at the airport, just a few hours from home
And he swears he loves his job, he really does, but he also admits he doesn't like everything that comes with it
And one of the things he dislikes was being away from home for so long
Away from you
That's precisely the reason why paparazzi and fans always see him smiling after landing in Korea after a tour or outside promos
Because he's so close from seeing you again
He can barely contain all his excitement
He's always at the front, bodyguards and staff constantly reminding him of walking slowly
And then he enters the car and I almost feel bad for his designated driver
He's often asking how long it will take to reach the destination, what time it is, if the driver can go to some shortcuts, if it's really needed to stop at the gas station...
The driver might as well start speeding just to get rid of him already
Of course, he asked to stop by at your place
It honestly surprised the members how he was able to jump out of the car so fast without tripping like he did
And in less than 5 seconds he was already at your doorstep, knocking at the door unafraid of your neighbours who were already sleeping
And in less than 5 seconds you opened the door
You barely had the time to see him as he hugged you tighter than you thought it was possible
That's how you both spent the following minutes: tears falling from your eyes as you realised how much you missed his warmth and his face buried in the crook of your neck, wishing he could actually merge with you
Those are the moments where no one hears a word from Hyunjin for the next three days or so
The company, the fans and even his members wouldn't know anything about his whereabouts
When he finally comes home to you, the only thing he wants to do is to be around you to try and compensate for all the time he's been away
And if it was up to him, he would never let go
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Masterlist | you'll probably like: Awaken Beauty
Thank you for reading <3 don't forget the feedback!
Taglist (open): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143
Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3
Dividers by @strangergraphics
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justblades · 3 days
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⋆。˚ ♰・priest! sunday x afab! reader
┈─ ・(ex)plicit, mdni. contains 2.2 spoilers, blasphemous themes, impregnation, clit stimulation, oral sex, controlling sunday, not proofread.
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Even a mere mortal can sense the regret lingering in the atmosphere of the vicinity, a small space dedicated for confessions and atonement of sins committed by those who believe in the Harmony. Numerous pews stand in rows before a single one, each being occupied by two people at best, to which you draw closer to the confession box— one more person to go and it is time to purify your tainted soul.
It was just muffled murmurs of two people from the latter reverberating inside the hall's six walls, along with the sound of the ceiling fans whirring. Your mind starts to drift onto something else: although you have no idea what others hold with regards to their sins, you still could not help but think that yours is shameful.
You can see the person beside you exit the birch box with teary eyes and stuffed nose as she holds a handkerchief to her face. "Next please." a resolute voice echoes, signalling for you to step forward into the confessional. With a wobbly stature, you stand up and tread forward, proceeding to close the oak door behind you.
The golden lights from the hall seep through the confession booth's partition, gleaming upon your stature - creating a silhouette as to where only the advocate from the other side can peer through the woodworks. You attempt to clear your voice before speaking, a dry throat halting the words you intend to verbalize within.
"I humbly ask for your blessings and the forgiveness of Xipe . . ." You mutter as your eyes dart to nothing that catches your interest except for the parquetry etched on the wooden floorboards. Your head held down low, staring at its intricate designing.
"Please feel free to proceed. I have sought their presence within us." The priest answers. "I have committed a grave sin of succumbing to passing emotions. Primarily, I struggled with regulating the purity of one's mind and it was late that I realized I indulged in an extreme activity to quench the thirst for sexual pleasure." 
A reassuring hum resounds. "As a devout follower of the Harmony, I believe my actions do not align with the path I stride. Therefore, I ask for forgiveness and assistance on how I will repent for the sins I have committed." After forming the confession where in sentences you never thought have ever been uttered, it feels as though a heavy weight was lifted off your chest and the shackles on your feet disintegrated.
Glancing at the frosted, colored glass window in front of you, you noticed how the warm yellow lights in the background flicker repetitively in an instant, as well as the birch surroundings creaking. "By committing a grave sin, you've engaged in an activity with a partner you are not married with." The priest reiterates as if the faulty lights are a common occurrence.
You hum in response. "And by committing an even graver sin, you took part in an activity with an objective aside from procreation. Please correct me if I'm wrong."
"Yes, esteemed advocate. Everything you said was indeed correct." Your heart starts racing, "Do you promise yourself you'll turn your back on this lascivious history to start anew?" He queries.
"Yes, Mister Sunday."
"Even if you were to encounter challenges to test your faith for the Harmony?"
Hesitation ruptures through your composure. Your resolution suddenly cracks, as if it was merely a façade with a longing for forgiveness to move on.
"Be honest." Like the advocate could read your mind as of the moment, you believe in the capabilities of Harmony, so there was no use in feigning cleanliness when you know it in yourself, you still struggle. "I wish to seek assistance from those with wisdom."
You receive another firm hum in response, "Very well. Please see me in the reconciliation room a short time after." Your mind spirals into confusion and bewilderment, the emotions painting your features like you were an open book to the audience.
Trekking off the confessional booth, you did not dare to spare a glance back at the priest and only made your way to the distinct, separate room - the reconciliation. It was small, enclosed, and only an oak table, two pairs of engraved chairs, a single ligneous partition and a kneeler reside within the space. Your vision anchors to the sculpted wooden cross sign hung on the beige walls, illuminated by a faint golden lamp on the table.
Patiently awaiting the presence of the priest, you stood still with a heavy heart, seeming like the relief you felt previously was only a glimpse of what you could've been if you didn't commit such grave sin. If only.
The door swings open, followed by the entrance of the figure you were anticipating. Faded sky blue hues of hair tumble upon the male's shoulders, along with the golden earrings he was donning. Feathered ears diluting into white ripple from his footsteps, and his distinct, golden halo stays afloat behind his head.
Being vis-à-vis with the highly esteemed figure of the Penacony like this tugs your heartstrings in unease. It felt bizarre, as you could recall from others' experiences that when you encounter priests or advocates of the Harmony, your heart rests. As for Sunday, it was the polar opposite. Chills run kilometers up and down your spine, your throat starts to become dry.
You trail your vision downwards, setting your sight upon his graceful features. His eyes were a radiant yellow tinged with an ocean blue, framed by his particularly long lower lashes. He purses his lips tightly, curving upwards, flashing a small smile. "Please take a seat." He motions for the chair in front of your figures, your eyes noticing the cross cut out gloves he's wearing.
Sitting down with guard held up high, Sunday follows suit as he opens the drawer from the oak table, retrieving something of a color white and frilly in texture, as you make of what you could from your peripheral vision. "This will certainly be of help to put your faith to test. If you would kindly turn around."
Your hands rest on your lap and as you hear the last phrase that came out of his mouth, you subconsciously gripped a handful of the fabric you're wearing in alertness. Not until your vision was impaired as Sunday blindfolds you with the latter material, it was soft and delicate to the touch - you could not see anything but faint shadows against the lighting. Everything was ivory white in stark contrast, and you could barely peer through the lace folds to see the priest.
"I will now be tuning your mind with the Harmony to which you will face repercussions if statements untrue to yourself are said." He pauses. Unsure where this will lead to, you had no choice but to nod in continuation. "Under the light of the Harmony, all wickedness is revealed. I implore them to shed their light."
What used to be a blurry white in your vision now fringes into colored edges, the prominent colors being purple, white, red, orange, and yellow.
"This will serve as a gentle reminder that I am assisting you to a path where grave sins  are not succumbed to, and only ▅▅▅ exists alongside philosophy to instill moral duties to a functioning member of a society."
His words cut through the thick atmosphere, thawing the glacial tension growing with each passing second.
He lowers his stature to face you, gloved fingers trailing from the hem of the laced blindfold down to your cheeks, cupping your face lightly with a careful grip. "Does this send a shiver down to your spine?" Sunday inquires and you shake your head in disagreement. It seems like he has a whole plan on how this will play out, and you were merely a pawn in his chessboard to see what you would react under these circumstances he will put you in.
The touch ghosts a caress on your lower parts, specifically, the frame of your chest. His thumb twirls on the middle part with an unraveled goal of making your buds perk up underneath the confinements of your clothing - making you grit your teeth as a poor attempt to stifle the sound threatening to escape.
A question arises amidst the confusing situation, a question that will surely be received in a poor taste as it will question his authority and legitimacy. You wanted to ask, is this really necessary?
However, the aura he exudes now was far different from what he displays when he's in front of the audience of the masses. He seems more strict now, judging from the tone lacing his voice from his query earlier. "Does this feel good?" He proceeds to unbutton your top, letting the fabric come undone and fall down to your lap. A singular  gloved hand of his snakes its way to your back, and with a single fidget, your bra was unclasped.
The priest takes his precious time in all these. He carefully observes the clothing that you wear, as he had come to adore the fact that you were wearing pearly white brassiere, one that was similar to the blindfold's texture and design, it was frilly in the edges and soft to the touch.
A light chuckle slips out, "Well? What's your answer?" Desire and temptation brews within your stomach, even spiking higher as he caresses your mounds with both of his hands. His touches feel light and blissful at the same time, like your body was basking in the warmth and enjoyment the priest had to offer. You struggle to keep your body still, knees trembling even though you were only sitting.
"N-No, Mr. Sunday."
A sharp throbbing ache courses through your head, granting him a wince of both surprise and pain. "It appears that you haven't put your mind and whole heart to this yet." He says as he walks away from your stature, leaving you dumbfounded. As silence encompasses the vicinity, you hear the male seat himself on the chair across from you. "Come to me." He simply orders.
"Just take steps forward and trust me."
With blind faith, you solemnly obey - approaching his figure with an extremely bleary vision. As your feet meet with an obstacle, seemingly the chair's legs, you stop in your tracks. "Now straddle my lap." Following suit, you feel a bulging sensation under your remaining clothing. Your breath becomes even more jagged than before, especially now that your clothed folds come in contact with his throbbing dick. It was clear cut enough that it was his erection continuously growing.
A brief moment passes and Sunday continues to envelop your hard buds within his lips, teeth grinding on your nipples in an attempt to inflict pain and pleasure all at the same time. "M— Mr. Sunday . . !" You yelp but he does not halt. He proceeds to twirl his warm, slick tongue all over your glazed areolas, your boob dancing in rhythm with his mouth in somewhat harmonic tunes played by your stifled mewls.
His other free hand pulls you tighter to his chest as he adjusts his position, bucking his hips upwards to create some sort of friction. The tip of his covered cock brushes against your already wet slit, granting him another lewd sound - this time, a soft moan. "I— I— I can't—" your hands clutch on the man's broad shoulders, feeling his long, muted blue and white locks tangle along your fingers. "You can. Yes you can. Only a little bit more you would be rewarded by proving your loyalty to the ▅▅▅."
Your sense of hearing downgrades as your mind drifts into pure bliss, lower limbs becoming numb as more pleasure courses through your veins. As if it's still not enough, Sunday simply lowers your remaining clothes to your feet, revealing your folds sopping wet with arousal already.
With haste and care in Sunday's every movement, he lays your back on the table in between the chairs, forcibly revealing everything down there to him — for him to revel in. The gelid wind traces shivers upon your sweat dewed skin, especially your folds now glimmering with muddy white liquids.
He raises your legs and stands up, resting your lower limbs upon his shoulders. The position is embarrassing enough as it is, but having the priest tower over you is another experience that feels even more intense than what unfolded previously. Not to mention that the throbbing pang in your head brought by your dishonesty upon the Harmony worsens minute by minute.
The male buries his face in your inner thighs first, flicking his tongue over your soft skin while his eyes are darted on your face, in high alert to which action of his you will react the most to. "Need I remind you to be honest this time around? Or is the headache that you're feeling not sufficient for you to stay true to your words?" He asks with a demanding tone, the margins of his lips drawing closer and closer to your slit.
"I have learned my lesson, Mr. Sunda—"
Gloved fingers begin to stimulate your clit, moving in motions you cannot fathom with your current state - your lower body jerking up in response to the stimulation. A sly smile creeps up on Sunday's face, his navy blue pupils fixating on each of your actions and expressions.
All you could think of was the fact that he didn't even let you finish, he went straight to pleasure you more, the sensation becoming more overwhelming as he starts to glide the tip of his tongue on your folds. "Do you feel good?" Although his voice was muffled from the proximity from his face and your pussy, you could comprehend and immediately answer, "Yes! I-I feel good . . !"
You rack your head back once Sunday buries his face further into your inner thighs, wallowing himself in your slit as he sucked on your sweet spot, sticking his tongue into your velvet walls while still toying with your clitoris. You bite back your moans, you cannot afford to lose the remaining dignity you had in you left - if there was any.
"Don't do that."
His voice sounds stern as ever, you were left with no choice yet again but to let mewls and moans come undone at this point in time. You were noisy, along with the sucking sounds accompanied by your hums of pleasure, continually bouncing off of the reconciliation room's four walls. "Very good. As for the last part, you must continue to be truthful, to stand by the ▅▅▅, and to ▅▅▅ to what I ought to be ▅▅▅ for you. Do you understand?"
Much to your relief, your vision was once again back to normal as he unties the lacey blindfold on your eyes. This time, you could see Sunday's disheveled hair, as well as the golden earrings dangling at every movement he makes. He swiftly unzips his slacks, therefore revealing his cock he had been concealing for so long before. It stands in its full glory, hues of purple and indigo veins threatening to pop - it was evident he's at his limit.
"Use your mouth. Make me feel good." He commands and peers at you with a somber expression. You muster enough strength on your body to stand up and kneel in front of him, positioning your head in a perfect angle to receive him. Slowly parting your lips open, he shoves his dick inside you, granting you a hoarse moan of satisfaction slipping past his lips.
You bob your head up and down and as if it felt natural to wrap your digits around the remaining length of his cock, you pump him in accordance to your pace, taking him inside with no hesitation, with only one goal in mind: to make him feel good. You could feel the crown of his dick kiss your throat every time you go deeper, making your eyes water as you try to keep yourself from gagging for the priest's satisfaction.
"That's enough, stand up." Your momentum was cut off as he hooks his arms on yours, making you stand from your previously kneeling position. It seems he has indulged enough in your submission and now it is time for him to try something new, something far more amusing in his perspective.
With both of your statures still standing up, he flips you around, making your back face him. He can examine every nook and cranny of your body in this way, and with a hum of approval, he bends you over slightly, wrapping his arms around your waist and reach for your tits. Your breath deepens, more beads of sweat proceed to trickle down your naked body. "M-Mr. Sunday, are we really going to do it?" you ask as he wraps his hand around himself, brushing his tip on your entrance.
He stops in his movements. "Do you have a problem with that?" A domineering tone laces that sole sentence, one that a person cannot delve deeper furthermore.
With one more stroke, he finally pushes himself inside your velvet walls, molding themselves around the shape of Sunday's dick - wallowing in the pleasure and warmth he emanates inside you. "So . . . warm . . ." He whispers, his breath ghosting a caress on the shell of your ear.
Sunday builds up his pace from a painfully slow one to picking it up, thrusting into you with additional force, pistoning your pussy as he's balls deep. Sounds of skin slapping add onto the lewd tune you two have been playing for the past hour, a whole sixty minutes of pleasure pooling your stomach and arousals seeping out of your holes.
Your legs start to quiver once more, exhaustion gnawing at your bones. But amidst this, Sunday kept you still with his force, hitting your sweet spots with the tip of his cock. If you could beg for mercy as of the moment, you certainly would take the chance. But to who, exactly? To whoever aeon is witnessing this lascivious act unfold in front of them, committed in such a religious place?
Or perhaps to Sunday, who you've knelt to before, received him inside your body in more ways than one. Perhaps. Perhaps it is he who shall show you mercy in the heat of the moment.
"M-Mr. Sunday, please forgive me!"
Interest sparks inside his mind, revelling in the way of being viewed as someone highly, someone sought out, someone in a legitimate authority. "You shall be forgiven." He states as he bites down on the blade of your shoulder, teeth leaving a bite mark and an aching sensation alongside it. You could do nothing but wince in pain, but waves of pleasure start to crush upon your conscious self.
Surely this is too much pleasure to handle for someone asking for forgiveness as they committed a grave sin for partaking in debauchery . . . but to be done this way by a priest is a little too exhilarating.
He picks up the pace, earning himself more moans of pleasure escape your lips, "I'll ▅▅▅ ▅▅▅ inside you." Sunday says as a fair warning, but a sentence you could only form at the present time was a lighthearted "Do as you please, Mr. Sunday."
With one single thrust, strings of satisfaction sprawl inside your womb. It feels warm yet again, but now, comforting in stark contrast to the nervousness welling up in your heart earlier.
"Well done. As you've shown resolution that you're on a path to atone for the sins you've committed in the past, you shall be forgiven."
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monstersflashlight · 9 hours
Note
Alien who accidentally fingers you during one of his examinations of the human body and is intrigued by your reaction
Hi! This took a turn at the end unexpectedly. Hope you like it and thanks for the request! <3
Alien inspection
Alien x fem!reader || finger-fucking, groping, lowkey humiliation
When you arrived to the space station you weren’t expecting to pass any medical exam. They told you back on Earth that you’d be free to go anywhere without background check. You should have guessed they were wrong. So now you were patiently waiting in a room full of alien creatures. There were so many different morphologies and colors and textures… Your poor human brain was overwhelmed with all the information you were getting just sitting in the waiting room.
After what felt like an eternity but probably was just half an hour, a metallic voice called your name and a very, very tall alien stood before you to escort you. He started talking in a language that sounded completely extraterrestrial, full of weird sounds and clicks. You looked at him confused, and he looked at you like he never saw a human before. A spark of surprise crossed his features as he extended his hand and clicked something next to your ear. The translator. Oh fuck, you forgot.
“Sorry, I forgot I had to do that.” You explained, already embarrassed.
“It’s okay, it’s your first time here.” His voice sounded weird when translated, but at least you could understand him now. “I’m excited, you are my first human.”
“Uh? What do you mean?” You asked, completely confused at what he meant. You couldn’t be the first human arriving at the station, there were at least fifteen other women in your same ship.
“I’m new in this facility, I’ve never seen a human before.” That explained it. You said nothing as he led you to another room. “Remove your coverings and sit there.” He pointed to a metal table in the middle of the space.
When you were finally naked and exposed completely to him, he turned around and started writing in his tablet. He put some cables around your chest and soon you heard the telltale sound of a cardiac machine, the beep beep of your heart deafening in the silence of the room. His clinical look of your body was making you feel extremely self-conscious, and a bit hot. You didn’t know what he had, but his detached look and the way he didn’t instantly look at your tits made you feel a bit better, but also started a fire inside of you.
You took time to study him as he kept writing stuff. He was so tall his head almost hit the ceiling, his skin such a pale green color that looked almost white. He was handsome in a very extraterrestrial way, otherworldly. And then you saw his hands. They looked like spider legs, super long and with at least four knuckles instead of the two humans had. It was weird, so weird, but it did something for you. It picked your interest in hot way, in a way that made you wonder how would that feel against your skin.
“Why is your skin turning pink?” He asked, writing down some stuff.
“I’m embarrassed.” You explained, trying to sound as clinical as him. He looked at you with a face that asked you to elaborate. No words needed. “I am naked and you are not, and you are looking at me, and I’m naked.”
“Interesting. Is nakedness wrong by human standards?” He asked, as he checked something on the machine and wrote it down.
“Well, yes and no.” He made a weird sound that your translator didn’t get and kept pressing some kind of instrument to your head and neck, tickling you. You giggled and he looked intently at you, not saying anything but writing down in his tablet. He lowered his weird hands to your chest. “Ouch!” You slapped his hand away when he pinched one of your nipples with his way too long fingers. Your heart raced as he did it again. “Ouch!!”
“Uh, that’s interesting. Your heart-rate spiked. Why?” He asked, looking between your boobs and the machine, his confused face was kind of adorable.
“I- That- Nipples are a sensitive area for humans. For some humans, at least. For me.” You babbled when you were nervous and he was making you really nervous at the moment.
“Interesting.” He didn’t let you out of the hook, grabbing your boobs and massaging them to his heart’s content. You were struggling to remain quiet, his touch turning you into a hot and bothered mess. You always had very sensitive tits, and his hands groping you were more than a bit arousing.
He kept at it for what you felt like ages, groping your boobs, measuring them, pinching your nipples (softer this time). He explored every tiny millimeter of your boobs as you rubbed your thighs together in what you hoped was not too obvious manner. At some point, when you were about to draw blood because of how hard you were biting your lip to stop the groans for escaping, he moved his hands down. Touching your abdomen, taking notes, poking your bellybutton and making you giggle.
“Open your legs.” He instructed next, pulling at your ankle softly, looking at you with his big pale eyes.
“What? No!” His previous touch left you dripping wet, you could feel your juices all over your pussy and the inside of your thighs. You really, really, didn’t want him to find out he aroused you. Fuck.
“I have to inspect your genitals, too.” The clinical way in which he said it made you shiver, uncomfortable, but weirdly turned on. What the fuck was wrong with you? He was a doctor, he wasn’t trying to fuck you. You didn’t even like aliens. Right? Well, maybe you did like this particular alien. So you complied and opened your legs slowly.
“Why is it wet? Is normal for it to be wet?” He asked, parting your lips and grabbing some of your juice, taking it to his face to smell it. He poked his tongue out and tasted it, making you let out a groan. He looked at you, alarmed. “Well? Is it normal?”
“Is normal when humans are aroused.” You told him, trying not to groan again.
“Are you aroused?” He didn’t stop his exploration, not even looking at your eyes when he said that.
“Yes.” You whispered, completely embarrassed, feeling a bit humiliated at the fact that he turned on by just his medical touch. You were perverted.
“Interesting.” His complete lack of reaction to your words made you feel humiliated and confused, some more wetness leaking out of your gaping hole. His intense eyes focused in your pussy again. “It twitched!” He exclaimed. Two milliseconds later, one of his fingers was pushed inside of you, making you groan and arch your back.
He experimentally moved his finger around, hitting your G-Spot and making you moan again. “Does that feel good?” He retracted his finger just to push it back again.
“Yes!” You looked down, he had just two knuckles inside of you, the other two were still out. His fingers were longer than any dick you’d ever seen, and he looked like he wanted to push the whole thing inside. God yes. “More, please.” You begged as he crooked his head at you, confused by your reaction but starting to push deeper, adding a second finger and scissoring them inside, stretching you. Fuck.
When his long fingers entered you completely, he started to finger fuck you intently, thrusting in and out and touching your G-spot every time he could. He was driving you wild. And when another finger found your clit, you screamed, making him look up and then repeat the movement to see how your face looked when he did it. He never lost his medical look in your body, not seeming interested on you as a person, but just your human anatomy. It made you feel humiliated, and that fired the heat inside of you.
He played with your pussy like he was a master of it, touching all the right places, rolling your clit and rubbing it just the right way. Before any of you were ready, you were coming hard around his fingers, thrashing on the table and babbling nonsense between groans and moans.
He took his fingers away and shoved them in his lab coat pocket, saying: “That was very illuminating. Thank you.” He then turned around and went away, leaving you naked and panting on the table.
A nurse entered and with one look at you they said: “Ugh, he fucked you, didn’t he?” You tried to dress rapidly as they kept looking at you.
“What?” Your face grew hot, probably red as a tomato.
“He has a human kink and always fucks the patients.” The nurse looked infuriated and tired as they pinched their nose-like appendage on their face.
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01zfan · 3 days
Text
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miss you more | s. es
ex baby-daddy!eunseok x reader | 6.6k words
another baby daddy riize fic. i do NAWT condone having a baby with a man you’re not married to.
contains: sex without a condom (they’re absolute messes DON’T BE LIKE THEM)
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you don’t know how you ended up in front of eunseok’s place. even if you were the one behind the wheel, the one shifting the gears, and the one rolling red stop signs you don’t know how you ended up there. you looked out your driver side window to look at the house you used to call your home across the street. atleast you were in your right mind enough to not park directly in front. but you also knew this was just as bad, in a parked car with the lights off across the street like a stalker.
you knew you could’ve gone home. you could’ve put your car back in drive and come back in the morning to pick up your daughter, pretending like this never happened. but you knew yourself better than that, and you knew that the failed date you went on still weighed heavy on your shoulders. 
you turned towards your phone, hoping that something on your device would distract you. but when you opened your phone you saw your lockscreen—your happy little daughter trying to hold a pumpkin the size of her body as you and eunseok helped. you thought about how content you were that day, how you felt like you were truly a happy little family again. you even had a heart to heart with eunseok, talking about how you were too young and just starting your career when you met him. your life was barely on track by the time your daughter came and although you wouldn’t trade her for the world you both humored the idea of meeting later in life. you felt a pang in your chest as you remembered looking down to your daughter who held tightly onto eunseok’s hand while she held her tiny pumpkin in the other. 
the person you went on the date with noticed your wandering mind, it was obvious in the way he cleared his throat after you stared at the picture for a little too long. 
trying to comprehend your relationship with eunseok was difficult. when you were with him you thought about all the shortcomings in your relationship—the lack of communication, hiding your feelings, keeping things bottled up until they exploded. neither of you were able to save your relationship before it was too late, and it could be argued that you two were better apart. but when you weren’t with him, the only thing you could think about was trying to make it work.
you looked at the man sitting across from you at the dinner table and you imagined it was eunseok. maybe it was the familiarity, maybe you shouldn’t have made the mistake of seeing him before going on your date. because now the only thing you could think about was him, if he was going on dates in secret and if he was thinking of you too. you thought about your daughter, how much you wished you were with her instead of pretending the fancy food on your plate was good.
you knew the moment you started thinking about your family that the date was already over. it would be another endeavor in your long list of failures, all you could think about as you sat in your car was how you gave up a day you had with your daughter for this. you deleted your message history with the man, staring at your most recent text conversations. eunseok sat at the very top, his unread message appearing in the form of a tiny blue dot next to his picture-less icon. you clicked on the message thread, revealing a series of pictures of your daughter and little updates through the night.
eunseok: she likes strawberries alot.
eunseok: playing zelda and animal crossing on the big tv.
eunseok: she’s better than me at zelda now.
eunseok: she told me mommy is going on a date?
eunseok: i hope it goes well.
eunseok: she ate all of her food.
you don’t know why you felt guilty reading the last message. eunseok didn’t have the right to know, and you knew that. you had simply told your daughter in passing that you were going on a date night with your friends, knowing that she would repeat whatever you told her to her father. you typed your reply over and over again, trying to figure out what approach to take. 
lol i was going out with some of my friends from wo|
that’s none of your busin|
the date went we|
are you awake?
your mind came up with a million things to say, but none of them felt right. it felt like all of them were attempts at sounding casual. you threw your phone into the passenger seat beside you, and you rolled your neck to try and relieve some of the tension. you let out a sigh and turned your keys in the ignition, letting your car come to life around you.
you pulled out from the parking lot and headed down the road trying to go home. it started off with one wrong turn, your mind confused on where to go from the restaurant. when you had the chance to go back the way you came you felt something take control, and you continued heading down the same road. you took another turn, you even waited at the red light with an unexplainable energy as you tapped the steering wheel. the tension in your neck was gone too as you headed further down the road. 
you knew you didn’t have the right to act confused when you finally turned down eunseok’s road.
you let your head rest against the steering wheel when you parked across the street. each time the thought of leaving your car invaded your thoughts, you gently shook your head, feeling the worn leather of the steering wheel cover against your forehead.
“don’t do it.” you said to yourself.
you looked back at the house again, looking at the window that your daughter was sleeping in. you knew that on the other side of the house you couldn’t see, was the window to the room you used to sleep in. you started thinking about eunseok in that bed by himself, drowning in the california king that was too big even for the two of you. you started thinking about if he thought of you before going to bed everyday, if he thought about you tonight and where you were going in your pretty dress. 
“don’t do it.” you repeated.
saying it a second time was unnecessary. you said it purely for effect, trying to seem like your better senses were trying to put up a fight. you were already taking your key out of the ignition before you finished your sentence. you had taken your first step out of the car when you repeated the phrase again. you cleared the road quickly, hearing your heels click on the paved road with each step. by the time you made it to the sidewalk you had accepted your fate. you were still weary, slowly making your way across the lawn to the stoop. 
when you made it to the small set of stairs you looked to the door in front of you. the last chance you had to go back in your car before you undid all of your hard work. you knew you were being recorded by the ring camera beside the door. you could simply lie if eunseok ever brought it up. you could just say you considered coming to get your daughter before realizing how late it was. eunseok most likely wouldn’t believe you, and you would most likely lie some more trying to tell a convincing story. but your gaze went from the ring camera to the potted plant that stood tall beside you. you looked even lower to the painted rocks that circled the bottom. you let the ring camera catch you crouch down to your heels. the same hand that drove you here picked out the discolored rock that felt hollow. 
you held the rock in your hand, feeling the three engraved letters side by side. you held it away from your shadow, letting the moon illuminate the letters. you laughed to yourself for a moment before bringing your other hand to it, feeling for the split in the middle. it was too easy to slide the fake rock open, and to grab the key to the front door out of it.
you stepped through the door, turning the knob so it closed quietly behind you. you took off your heels at the door, hanging your jacket on the coat rack. you felt like an intruder, walking through the house on the balls of your feet trying to be as stealthy as possible. you lurched past your daughters toys in the living room down the hallway to eunseok’s room.
“don’t do it.” you said one more time putting your hand on the doorknob.
you pushed open the door to eunseok’s room slowly. you cursed at the creaky hinges, only letting it fully open when you saw that eunseok’s bed was empty. you didn’t hear him in the bathroom, so you pulled away from the door. you turned around, looking at the pink door of your daughter’s room. you ran your hand over the paint, remembering the day you spent painting it outside. it was the same day you painted the rocks outside. for some reason you believed eunseok would’ve thrown out the rocks you painted, or atleast replace them with new ones. but everything was the same as you left it all those years ago. 
when you silently opened the door, you saw your daughter take up a majority of the bed. her stretched limbs forced eunseok to the edge—his arm was slung over the side, and he was so close to falling that his hand touched the ground. eunseok was on his stomach and your daughter was on her back, both of their snores filled the room. for a moment pain flashed across your chest, you missed seeing this more than you thought. your own flesh and blood laid next to your shared history that was so suffocating it took your breath away. it was overwhelming and calming, as painful as it was peaceful. 
part of you wanted to stand there for the rest of the night, just watching the two sleep side by side. you were still for a moment, letting your mind replace all the bad memories with the good as you worked up the courage to get closer to eunseok. 
all of your steps towards eunseok were careful, walking on the flat part of your foot to not cause the floorboards to creak. you had your eyes trained on your sleeping daughter, making sure she didn’t open her eyes while you crouched close to eunseok’s body.
when you reached your hand in the space between your chest and eunseok’s shoulder, you hesitated. you were frozen looking at eunseok and his cheek pressed into the mattress and his mussed black hair. you hadn’t seen eunseok like this in god knows how long. after you called things off, eunseok put his stoic resolve back up. he put on a mask for you, a facade of furrowed eyebrows and emotionless stares. you had been deprived of eunseok’s softness you almost forgot it existed. now you crouched next to your ex beside the flower lamp on your daughters dresser resisting the urge to run a finger over his soft parted lips or his smooth skin. you almost didn’t want to wake eunseok up, afraid that you would once again have the gentleness taken away from you. you didn’t know you could miss the view of someone you claimed to hate so much. 
something inside of you wanted eunseok to know you saw him like this, serene in middle of the night just like when you were together. maybe he would even talk to you in the same raspy voice he always used to talk to you in. maybe if you woke him up fast enough you would be able to experience the eunseok you loved before his mind fully woke up to make him robotic towards you again. so you finished reaching across the space, gently touching his shoulder before you let your hand fully cover the area.
you shook eunseok gently at first. his body was limp underneath your hand, moving whichever way you applied force. you looked past eunseok to your daughter, who had at some point moved on her side to sleep like you. you drew in a breath, applying more pressure behind your hand trying to rouse him. finally he did something, letting out a sigh before shrugging his shoulders.
“go back to sleep baby,” eunseok swallowed and turned his head, facing away from you. “we can play zelda in the morning, i promise.” he mumbled.
even if his voice was barely audible, you still clenched your teeth in worry. your daughter was by no means a light sleeper, but all it could take is mentioning one of her favorite things to have her head shoot up in the middle of her sleep. eunseok ignored you trying to wake him up, you had to lean in close to the back of his head.
“eunseok,” you shook him a little harder “it’s me.” you whispered.
as if you yelled straight into his ear, eunseok shot up from the bed. you were spooked, almost letting out a sound when he turned to you with wide eyes.
“what are you doing here?” he sounded lost as he looked around your daughters dark room. “is something wrong?” he asked.
“no i just.” you looked over eunseok’s shoulder to look at your daughter. she was still snoring, but had turned to face her father. if she woke up now she would never go back to sleep. “i need to talk to you.” you whispered.
eunseok looked at the flower-shaped clock hanging on the wall behind you. he squinted his eyes trying to make sure he was reading the time right.
“at two in the morning?” he asked, voice still raspy.
in that moment you realized it was a mistake coming. nothing good as ever happened between you and eunseok after midnight. but you also realized it was too late to go back, and a small voice in your brain convinced you that you weren’t sleeping in your own bed tonight. so you nodded your head again as eunseok carefully move off the bed to not wake your daughter. 
eunseok motioned for you to walk toward shis room but he still led the way. he didn’t care to walk on his tiptoes or avoid the creaky parts of the floor as he rubbed his face. 
you looked back to your daughter once more before closing the door behind you. she moved to the center of the bed, taking up the little amount of space eunseok was occupying. you slowly pulled the door closed until you heard it click behind you. when you turned back into the hallway you saw eunseok past the opening in his door, looking at you through the space. he was no longer tired and he didn’t have his eyes squinted in confusion anymore. he held eye contact with you from his room, almost like he was daring you to come in. the implications made your bare feet timid in the hallway, lingering behind each creak on the floorboards as you crossed the threshold into his room. 
as if you had never been in the room before, you waited by the doorframe as eunseok closed the door shut beside you. he gave you a second to collect your thoughts, leaning against the closed door as he looked down at you. you tried matching his calm, leaning against the wall until the light switch poked your back. when eunseok crossed his arms you breathed in deeply.
“what are you doing here?” he asked.
you didn’t have an answer. all you could do was cross your arms against your chest and avoid his gaze.
“i don’t know.” you answered.
you could hear eunseok let out a dry laugh from beside you. even in the darkness of his room you could make out the framed photo of you two that sat at his work desk. he followed your gaze and cleared his throat when he saw what you were looking at.
“did you enjoy your date?” eunseok asked.
“that’s none of your concern.” you quipped.
eunseok pushed off of the door, and your eyes followed his back as he walked towards his bed.
“i’ll take that as a no.” he said quietly.
when he turned around to face you, you took a step forward.
“i’m seeing him again.” you lied.
the smug look on eunseok’s face didn’t fade away as he crossed his arms again. you saw him lean against your former side the bed, head tilted as he caught onto your lie.
“oh i’m sure.” he said.
you felt the familiar rage blossom in your chest. suddenly you felt regret, reaching behind you for the doorknob.
“this was a mistake.” you seethe.
before you can turn the doorknob, eunseok takes a step towards you. when you turn the doorknob he takes another step. he clears the space between you two, and continues coming closer until you have to look up at him. eunseok moves his hand to clasp over yours on the doorknob. the warmth of his hand coaxes you to let go of the doorknob, and he brings his other hand to hold yours. you can already feel the heat across your cheeks, and you can see the blush dust across eunseok’s face the longer he looks down at you.
you don’t know why eunseok humors you even though you’re no longer together. you don’t know why he takes his time teasing you. you came to him in the middle of the night in a tight short dress after a failed date. he could’ve taken you in the hallway or the couch in the living room, god knows you deserved it. but he was gentle with you, bringing his hand to brush underneath your chin to keep your head tilted up at him.
“you don’t know why you’re here?” eunseok asked again.
you silently shook your head, knowing he’d show you why. he looked at your lips, and eunseok pressed his leg between yours. the movement made your dress ride up. you remembered that eunseok bought you this dress when he let go of your hand to reach for the zipper. he still remembered that he had to hold the fabric straight to get the zipper to work, and he pulled it down in one smooth motion. you got up from the wall to aid him, and you didn’t protest when the dress became loose on your skin. you only continued to look up at eunseok, feeling your eyes become glassy as the fabric pooled to your feet.
“you still don’t know?” he asked quietly. 
eunseok brought his fingers to run over the trim of your bra, letting out a sigh when you tilted your head back in approval. you didn’t have to answer eunseok for him to know your response. he only laughed, teasingly bending down past your lips to kiss your shoulder.
when eunseok moved to your neck you brought your hands to his shoulder. you kept him there, letting your legs bend slightly to rest some of your weight on his leg. he was strong underneath you, the flexing muscle in his thigh made you want to grind against him. before you could do anything else, eunseok worked his kisses up to your ear then completely pulled away.
“let’s go to the bed.” he said.
you complied immediately, making your way to your old side of the bed as eunseok walked around. 
both of your stood next to the bed, staring at the other. you waited for his instruction, but eunseok stared at you waiting for your next move. it made you swallow your nerves, and you reached behind you to undo the clasp on your bra. eunseok watched you fully clothed on the other side, completely still as you moved to your underwear. eunseok watched you push your underwear past your knees, until you could step out of them. 
as you brought your arms to cross against your chest, eunseok let you watch as he pulled his shirt over his head. you looked at his toned stomach, how he ran his hand down his body before getting to the waistband of his sweats. you moved from foot to foot, trying to not make it obvious how much of a mess you were already becoming. it felt like the first time again, both of you trying to remember what your bodies looked like now. you had stretch marks like tiger stripes now, and eunseok had grown into his body. you no longer felt like the young adult you were when you first met him as eunseok pulled down his sweats to reveal his white briefs. as he reached for the waistband he motioned to the bed, silently telling you to get on first.
you pressed your hands into the foam and crawled to eunseok’s side. you sat back on your legs, perched and ready to listen. eunseok grabbed your hand that was balled up at your sides, kissing your palm after spreading out your fingers. you wanted to press your hand into his toned stomach and travel down until you could squeeze his length over the fabric of his underwear, but you let eunseok kiss every single one of your knuckles as he kept burning eye contact with you. when he let your hand fall back to the bed he reached into the top drawer of the night stand. when your mind caught quickly on you shifted on your knees.
“i’m not seeing anyone.” you said quickly.
“what about your date?” eunseok asked.
you shook your head, hoping that eunseok wouldn’t make you say it out loud. the smug smile that blossomed across his face was enough of a response.
“so no condom?” he teased.
eunseok eyed you carefully as he put the foil packet back down on his dresser. he watched you shrug your shoulders and look away, focusing on fluffing his pillows. he sits back on his haunches as he watched you get comfortable laying on your side. it’s been too long since he’s seen you like this, naked and getting ready for him. seeing the line of your body settle on his sheets makes eunseok want to tell you how much he changed. how he’s not the same twenty-year old who broke your heart by hiding his feelings. he wants to tell you that he’s a responsible adult now, and that his therapist tells him every session he’s making real progress. 
when you settle onto the mattress you turn to face him. eunseok notices how you fail to hold eye contact with him longer than a second before turning away. your hand that was rubbing up and down your body goes to fraying thread on the sheets, and your eyes dart away to focus on the wall behind eunseok.
“hurry before i change my mind.” you were anything but convincing. your words had no bite as you patiently waited for eunseok to fall into his place beside you. “you should be thanking me. god knows when’s the last time you had sex.” you said.
even if you tried to seem threatening, eunseok saw your body seize in anticipation when he shifted on the bed. he took his time, going to his back first to fully take off his underwear. he enjoyed seeing you trying to take quick peaks over your shoulder to look at his bare body and hearing your nails scratch the sheets to try and collect yourself. 
eunseok put his hand on the side of your knee when he shifted his body again. he ran his hands up slowly, his touch light as a feather to try and make bumps erupt across your skin. eunseok scooted his body closer to yours, his arm that was between his body and the mattress fell into place underneath your neck. 
the two of you went into your old routine, muscle memory of your past together in bed guided your movements. you both told yourselves your bodies were acting on their own accord. that was the excuse echoing around in both of your heads as you scooted your body back to meet eunseok’s and why he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. you gasped from the feeling, and suddenly the familiarity between you two filled the room. the closeness of your bodies was nearly blinding, you put your hand over eunseok’s that had found it’s place on your ass. 
eunseok foolishly thought that this position would protect him, that not being able to see your face would help him have emotionless sex with you. but feeling your fingers seamlessly intertwine with his made his heart pound against your back. each time he tried to slightly pull back you only followed him, chasing after the warmth of him against you. he thought fast to distract you before you could point it out, he reluctantly separated his hand from yours to lift your leg, making it come over his. the change made you lean forward to put your hand on the mattress to stabilize yourself. eunseok leaned forward, and wrapped his arm that was under you underneath your chest to bring you close.
“the last time i had sex?” when your leg was locked over eunseok’s he used his fingers to swipe at your folds. you preened your ass backwards, making a sound of embarrassment at how wet you were. “it was when i came over to help you with your tv, remember?” he whispered.
eunseok let the memories flood over you as both of your bodies shivered. it was months ago, you needed help putting together and setting up the brand new television you got for christmas. you were never much of the handyman, and eunseok wanted an excuse to come over to your new place. so while she was at daycare eunseok was invited over, and just like now one thing led to another until you were on top of eunseok. he remembers trying to kiss your knees that were bruised from being pressed to the ground and you told him to go away. he also remembers after the fact you used the excuse that you were lonely due to the holiday season. but now it was summer and you were moaning for him like you always used to. when eunseok pressed his lips to the side of your face you didn’t tell him to go away, you only turned your head to give him better access.
“you said you hated me then.” eunseok said.
eunseok pushed two fingers into your heat and a satisfied smile spread across his face when your lips parted. he sees you nod your head, trying to form a coherent sentence.
“i do.” you respond.
you can barely get through your sentence without your voice pitching upwards. eunseok feels you attempt to push your hips back to meet hie fingers. 
“you still hate me?” eunseok slips in a third finger to try and change your mind. “after all these years?” he asks.
“i do.” you say, shaking your head.
eunseok talks your mixed signals as a sign he’s doing something right. maybe by the third time you come to him like this he will get you to say no, maybe even have you initiate the kiss first. he uses it as motivation to keep pumping his fingers into your heat, and bringing you closer by the hand that’s on your chest. 
when you try wedging your hand between your bodies to find eunseok’s dick, he moves out of the way. he shakes his head in the crook of your neck. he imagines the look of frustration on your face, the one that’s seared into the back of his eyelids as he lifts your leg. you fall forward once again from the new angle and eunseok lets you. 
“fuck me please, eunseok.” you whine into the sheets. 
you use the rest of your strength to push your body back to its side and you moved eunseok’s hand down to your chest. he can feel your heart jumping in its cage as you continue whining for him. his chest swells when he feels your desperate hand reach down again to grab his dick. he lets you and looks down to guide his dick to your hand. when you hold him it’s his turn to whine. he forgot what it was like to be touched by you that he has half a mind to ask you to just jerk him off. maybe he’ll turn you around, just so he can see your eyes blow out with lust as he finishes. but just like always does he keeps his thoughts to himself and lets you decide what you want. when you pull his fingers out of your hole he leans forward, letting his hard dick press against your ass.
both of you are so desperate your movements become rushed. eunseok ruts his dick into your ass from the haste, and you clench your hand around his dick. you pump his length a few times, just wanting to hear the man behind you sigh contently trying to hold back his moans. you continue to do it, letting the slick sounds of his precum between your hands fill the room until his sighs turn to quiet whines. 
“turn around.” eunseok kisses your shoulder, pressing his lips into your skin to muffle his words “look at me.” he begs.
you ignore him, even though you both know you can hear him. you both know that the position you’re in currently is too intimate for people who claim to hate eachother. you both know that eye contact is dangerous, that it would only bring back feelings you both put so much energy into denying. so eunseok lets you ignore him and plays off his pleads by lightly biting your skin. you moan from the pain that lights your body like a fire, and eunseok puts his hand over yours to guide his dick the rest of the way.
“ready?” eunseok asks.
eunseok says it just as quiet as his previous plead. when you nod and whimper out a yes he feels his heart drop. he knows it was an act of self preservation, but he wished to see your face. he had to settle for his imagination and your sounds when he pushed his tip past your entrance, pushing every inch inside you you until his hips kissed yours. you sucked him in and kept his dick in place, fitting around him like a glove. there was no better feeling in the world, nothing tasted better than the salt from your skin that stayed on eunseok’s lips. he put his hand on your ass to spread you out enough to draw his hips back. he heard you fist the sheets and he felt you grab his hand on your chest to steady yourself. he slid back in just as slow, cursing each time your walls seized around him. 
it had been too long. eunseok was actively abandoning all of his instincts feeling you around him. he felt himself caring less and less about not wearing a condom the closer he got.
“i’m gonna cum if you keep clenching around me like that” he grunted into your shoulder.
eunseok moved his hand on your ass to press his hand deep into your lower stomach, causing you to push your hips further back. he swore he could feel himself inside of your stomach, and the sound that ripped from your throat made him believe you felt it too. the new angle let eunseok push his hips further into you. you could no longer hold your head upright as you let it fall into the pillows to muffle your sounds. even now you held back, trying to keep some shred of your dignity.
eunseok lifted his head to try and look down at you. he could see your eyes closed from the pleasure, and the thin layer of sweat that glistened across your face. the tiny beads and your supple skin caught in the moonlight. eunseok bent down to kiss your cheek, trying to entice you to turn your head again. for the second time, eunseok could tell you were ignoring him. he forgot what you were trying to protect yourself from as he felt your walls seize around him again. it was getting sporadic, and your breaths were turning into quick huffs. when your hand tightened over his eunseok used his leg to raise yours even more. his hand on your stomach found your clit quickly, rubbing circles that complimented his thrusting. you finally turned your head from the mattress, you even turned a little further to look eunseok in the eyes.
“i’m so close, seok.” you whispered.
eunseok saw you close your eyes and catch your bottom lip between your teeth, another telltale sign of you trying to focus. you dragged his hand that gripped your chest to your neck. you looked down at you trying so desperately to take the tenderness from this moment. if eunseok squeezed his hand around your neck like you wanted, it would be easy for you both to claim this was simply just a horny mistake, a borderline hate-fuck. he made that mistake the first time, hand around your neck as he told you how much he hated you. he looked into your eyes when he said it, trying to revel in the way your eyes flashed in pain between the moments of bliss. he didn’t mean it then but he definitely didn’t mean it now—like he said before he has changed. 
so instead of pressing his fingers into the veins on the side of your neck he traveled up to your chin, turning your head so you were forced to look at him. you were shocked, eyes so wide and your face so close to his eunseok could see himself in the reflection of your pupils. he placed a kiss right on your lips, not pulling back until he felt your lips move against his. he sees himself in your eyes again, and he sees his spit glistening on your lips. he feels himself inside of you, and he feels your warmth cover his entire being.
“i think i was made for you.” 
eunseok meant to say it quietly just for himself as a silent realization, but the way you nod makes him believe it to be true. eunseok feels you get your strength back as you push your hips backwards to meet his hard and deep thrusts.
“you still are.” you moaned.
he tells himself that you are just talking to fill the void of silence. eunseok also tells himself that you can’t bring yourself to ignore him for the third time this night when you’re looking him right in eyes. regardless, eunseok can also feel himself getting closer as you clench repeatedly around his twitching dick.
“oh my god.” you moan.
eunseok pulls your body closer when he feels you shudder against him. you start driving your hips back without rhythm, trying anything you can to keep the stimulation going. eunseok still looks down at you as you cum, and he smiles at the irony of you trying so hard to keep eye contact. you give into closing your eyes when he slips a finger into your mouth, and he can feel the vibration of your moans around his digit. 
when you start getting weaker, and settling into eunseok’s hold he pulls his hand from your clit to pull out. when you open your eyes again they’re glassy. they’re no longer half lidded as you grab eunseok’s wrist, stopping him from pulling out.
both of you look down at your hand. you look almost as shocked as eunseok, like something came over you to stop him from pulling out. eunseok takes it in stride, pushing back into you with a force that has you moaning around his finger. you turns your head even further to face him. he kisses the apple of your cheek and then your lips, smiling against your pout.
“you want another baby?” eunseok moved down from your cheek to your jaw. “you really wouldn’t be able to get rid of me then.” he whispered once he made it to your ear.
before you could say anything back, eunseok latched onto the skin right below your ear, sucking and pressing his teeth in the area below your jaw. the stimulation made your lower half sink further down onto the mattress, until you were relying fully on eunseok’s strength to keep your body up. memories flood back to eunseok, but the way he still remembers how you sound and respond to everything makes him think he never forgot in the first place. both of your bodies move simultaneously, when he pulls away from your neck you tilt your head to give him access to the other side. you preen your neck towards him, whimpering quietly when he lingers above the spot.
“oh my god.” you start shaking and eunseok feels your nails dig into his skin. “too much.” you whimper.
eunseok turns your head back around to press let his face rest against yours. you still suck around his fingers, and he can feel you turn your head to kiss whatever parts of his face you can reach. you still clamp around him, your cum adds to the lewd sounds that fill the room.
“can i cum inside?” eunseok asks.
eunseok closes his eyes and focuses on everything about you. he hold back until he feels your head nod against his.
“please.” you bring your hand behind you to run through his hair. “i miss you so much” you whimper around his fingers.
“i miss you more.” eunseok whispers.
he doesn’t hold back anymore as he empties into you. he turns to the crook of your neck, sucking harshly at your skin to relieve even more of the tension. when his hips still you take the lead, plating your hand onto the mattress to give your hips more stability. eunseok grips your ass, kneading the flesh desperately to try and ground himself. he pulls away from your skin to whimper into your ear. 
you two can no longer speak, only communicating through the hushed sounds of euphoria. eunseok brings both of his hands to wrap around you, bringing your body as close to his as possible. you can no longer push your hips back from the new angle and that’s exactly what eunseok wants. he forces you both to stay still, to feel all of it—the way his dick pulses inside of you as he cums deep inside of you. even when eunseok gives you all he has, you both stay in that position. you both settle deeper into the bed, catching your breath as your skin doesn’t break contact. 
neither of you want to be the first to speak or to force the other one to come back to reality. so you two remain silent as eunseok pulls out. you don’t say a word when eunseok turns your body around to face him, or when he pulls the covers over your sweaty bodies. he returns the favor by saying nothing when your nestle into his chest and you guide his arm to wrap around your body. 
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perlelune · 3 days
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Dollhouse | Rafe Cameron | ii.
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The moment your mother marries Ward Cameron should have been the moment your life changes for the better. A fresh start out of the Cut for the both of you. And for the first seven years of living with the Camerons, everything truly is perfect.
Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Pogue!Reader, Stepcest, Secret Relationship, Manipulation, Jealousy, Drugs, Drinking,
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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You let your fingers wander over the edge of the car window, a big smile spread across your face. The gentle breeze flutters across your skin and birdsong fills your ears. You bask in the warmth of the sun and the comfortable feeling sitting inside your chest. The morning was spent visiting the university you’ll be joining in the coming fall. You were given a tour of campus and all the historical buildings you’ll get to wander through soon. It filled you with anticipation, getting that brief glimpse into college life. You’ve been in Outer Banks your whole life and while it’s pretty much a paradise, you’re looking forward to experiencing something new and exciting.
Dad insisted on driving you since you don’t have your license yet. The two of you constantly got wrapped in animated chatter on the way to and from campus. While it’s hard for Ward to watch one of his baby birds leave the nest, you appreciate how supportive he’s been overall. After long hours coaxing him with Mom of course. Dad was skeptical at first. He even suggested you take a gap year to mull it over, like Sarah did. But you and Sarah are like the sun and moon. She’d be the sun of course. While your big sister is content running off with the Pogues on wild adventures and setting aside college for now, you can’t picture yourself doing that. You’re a Cameron, but you’re not Sarah Cameron. With her sweet disposition and golden mane, your sister could probably get away with murder by batting her lashes and flashing her signature sunny grin. Things are different for you. Very different. You haven’t forgotten where you come from, much as everyone in the family pretends you’re just as quintessentially Kook as the rest of them. 
Tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you pivot to Ward.
“Thanks for driving me, dad.”
He beams, his blue gaze drifting away from the road as it lands on you.
“No problem, sweetheart. It’s an amazing school. Great program. Campus looks good too. I know you’ll fit right in.”
A wave of warmth blows through you. “Thanks.”
Sighing, you turn to the epitome of gloom and petulance in the backseat. His arms are folded over his broad chest, his irate blue eyes glued to the window. Your brother’s been cranky all morning. Any trivial inquiry or mundane remark set him off. He barely uttered a word to Dad and graced you with nothing but stubborn silence. It’s blatant he isn’t handling the prospect of your imminent absence well. The silence concerns you a little though. Rafe isn’t one to chew his words or swallow them. So whatever resentment he harbors about your decision to go away for college must run deep. It casts a veil of despondency upon an otherwise wonderful day. 
Of all people, you’d expect your big brother to support you the most. 
His sour-faced demeanor never relents, even when Ward stops the car in front of Tannyhill. Dad sighs as he parks the truck. He’s already lectured Rafe twice on the way back. You note the disappointment etched on his face, the way he squares his shoulders and readies him to march towards his son and lash out at him again. You put your hand on his shoulder and shake your head. The last thing you need is your brother and father at each other’s throat again. It’d be nice to linger in the exhilaration the campus left you with a little longer. 
“It’s fine, dad. Let me talk to him,” your say. 
Dad’s shoulders sag. He yields, heading inside the house and leaving you with Rafe. You lean next to him on the truck, head tilted in concern. 
“Hey…You haven’t said a word since we came back. What did you think?” 
When he fails to reply, his face taut, your frustration swells. “You’re the one who insisted on coming.”
It’s when he snaps, the vein in his forehead pulsing. He swivels to you. 
“I just don’t understand why you have to go to a school so far from us, y’know? A five hour drive, really?”
Your brows crumple to a frown.
“Rafe…”
He cuts you off with a mirthless laugh, annoyance flashing in his blue eyes. “And the way you kept gushing about college parties and college boys…” His jaw ticks. “I just don’t like it.” 
Rafe pauses, licking his lips and humming as if lost in the depths of reflection. “I think…”
When he trails off, you urge him to go on, impatience clear in your tone, “What do you think?”
He shrugs before casually stating, “I think you’re gonna land yourself into trouble like the airhead that you are and come crawling back home.”
Your face comes ablaze at his words. You punch his shoulders as tears rush to your eyes.
“You can be such a jerk sometimes.”
You stomp away from him, ire radiating from you in waves. He catches up to you with ease. An apology creeps on his face, his fingers clasping around your arm.
“Wait, princess.” 
He impedes your path, forcing you to halt in your tracks. He puts a hand on his chest, his expression earnest. 
“Look I’m just trying to look out for my little sister here, okay?” A hint of sadness seeps through his tone. “I thought you at least appreciated that.”
Your shoulders slump. 
“I do, Rafe, but…I’ll be gone soon. I need you to accept it.”
“I just think it’s too soon.”
“Rafe, I’ll visit. So often that you guys will get sick of me,” you say, your tone reassuring.
The suggestion does little to assuage him, his eyes rolling in annoyance. 
“You could take a gap year like Dad said. It wouldn’t be a big deal. You’re a Cameron.”
You nibble your bottom lip. You’re keenly aware Rafe will abhor the words bubbling in your throat before they even leave your mouth.
“Well, not exactly...”
He snickers. “It’s those Pogues…they got in your head, didn’t they?”
Your brows furrow. In your brother’s eyes, everything’s always a Pogues’ fault. He’s never been too fond of the fact that you still hang out on that side of the island sometimes. The phrase ‘You’re a Kook now princess, act like it.’ has left his mouth a numberless amount of times in the past seven years whenever he found you drifting a little too far from the family.
“What? It’s got nothing to do with my friends, Rafe,” you retaliate. 
Your gazes clash, a silent war of unwavering wills as your brother looms over you. He works his jaw and unleashes a long exhale. 
“So you’re just gonna leave us? It’s final?”
Reluctance drips from your clipped tone. “Yeah, it’s final.”
“I see.”
He gives a sluggish nod of acknowledgement before rushing inside the house.
You trail behind him, panic fluttering through your chest.
“Rafe…”
His back remains turned. Your stomach sinks, his staunch ignorance driving a blade through your heart. The last thing you want is to be away from Rafe, away from your family. But college matters to you. Why can’t he see that? 
Mom stands by the counter, dumbfounded by Rafe’s furious stride up the stairs. 
“What’s gotten into him?”
A deep sigh ripples through your lips as you meet Mom’s concerned stare. “You know Rafe…”
You turn to her.
“You wanted to talk to me, mom?”
She beams at you. You straighten your spine. 
Mom texted you on the way back. She mentioned Sarah would be here too, causing your suspicions to hit a peak.
Nearly every talk with Mom devolved into a firm reminder to behave in a manner befitting a Cameron, befitting Ward Cameron’s daughter. Your mother’s foot never eased off your neck in the last few years. 
Nothing besides perfection is allowed.
Perfect grades. Perfect smile. Perfect behavior. Not a single blight or misstep shall ruin the blended nuclear family image Mom and Ward strive to project. Dad might be more subtle about it, but you know his expectations of you align with Mom’s. 
Whenever Sarah slackens, the burden passes on to you. You’re supposed to set an example for Willa and Wheezie to follow.
Mom glances between you and Sarah, the latter already sitting on a stool by the counter. It’s clear your sister would rather be anywhere but here. Likely hanging out with John B or some other fun thing. “To both of you, actually.”
You and Sarah exchange a look, one you have countless times before. The quiet acceptance that you’re both about to be lectured by Alice Cameron.
Resigned, you plop down in the stool next to Sarah’s. 
Excitement oozes off Mom’s voice as she starts speaking. 
“You remember when I told you about the Calliopean Society Debutante Ball?”
Sarah’s lips twitch as she tamps down a grin. “You mean the one you’ve been massively subtle about?”
It’s true. For months, Mom has dropped heavy hints regarding her desire to see both you and Sarah become debs. Even amongst Kooks, being picked to represent the institution is seen as the highest honor. Only a handful of young women from prestigious families in North Carolina are picked, ones whose families have made significant contributions to the county. 
A series of events antecedes the ball, including but not limited to Midsummers, a variety of tea parties and galas. The whole thing is archaic at best and cringeworthy at worst. 
You’ve tried to get Mom to relinquish the idea of you joining it. But she’s been relentless. The symbol of status it epitomizes isn’t something she’ll let go off so easily. 
Not when she’s tried to make everyone on Figure Eight forget where she comes from. Mom would do anything to bury any hint of her past as a Pogue.
You bump Sarah’s elbow, berating her with a frown, “Sarah.”
She chuckles and stands a bit straighter. 
Mom sighs at her antics, her forehead creasing.
“Girls. I need you to focus.”
“Sorry, Mom.”
“Sorry, Alice,” Sarah echoes.
Mom marks a dramatic pause, causing dread to tickle your insides. If she’s this excited, it’s almost a given that you won’t be.
Indeed, her next words confirm your inkling.
“Well, I managed to slip in both of your names in the short list while attending the Midsummer’s committee,” she says.
You wince. “Mom…why would you do that?”
Her elation doesn’t waver. “They’ve never had a young woman like you in their ranks and they’re trying to be more open-minded this year.”
“Mom, this is old-fashioned and gross. The girls are presented like broodmares to be sold.”
Her brows knit. “That is not what this is. Being chosen is an honor.”
Sarah rolls her eyes and you purse your lips. Mom squints at you, folding her arms.
“I want you two to participate in all the events leading up to it.”
Sarah blinks in disbelief. “Come again?”
“Isn’t Midsummer enough?” you refute. 
It’s bad enough you’re not given much of a choice in attending the stuffy event. The fact that Mom wants you and Sarah to take it one step further is wild.
“Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your place, sweetie?” she laments, looking straight at you. “It’ll be an opportunity to bond with young ladies your age.”
This doesn’t stir you. You doubt you have much in common with the kind of girls picked out as debutantes. This was probably the same crowd you’ve exerted great effort in avoiding at the Kook school. 
“Kie will be there too, but only if you go,” you specify.
This catches your interest, mostly because of how absurd that statement is. You’re pretty sure Kie would likely chop off an arm before agreeing to be a debutante, even if you did it too.
Sarah’s eyes nearly pop out of their sockets.
“Kie? No way, you’re making this up.”
A mischievous smile unfurls on Mom’s lips.
“Well, it wasn’t easy to get her to agree but her father threatened to stop paying for her unlimited data plan.”
Oh so it’s like that? Kie’s parents resorted to blackmail. Makes sense. You just can’t picture your rebellious friend agreeing to this without an incentive. You surmise threatening to cut off her only means of constant communication with the Pogues might sway her mind a bit. 
“Yeah that…tracks.”
“Can you do it, please?”
Your shoulders sag. “Mom, I really wished you stopped trying to impress those women. You do realize they’ll always look at us the same way, no matter what we do.”
Mom’s face dims at your words. An instant wave of guilt fills you. You should have kept your mouth shut. She tosses her hands in the air.
“Fine. I never ask you girls for anything, but okay.” She starts frantically cleaning the kitchen, loud clangs echoing as she grabs random pots and pans from the oven and cabinets. “When I was your age…” You suppress an eye roll. Here we go. You and Sarah trade a knowing glance. Anytime she starts a sentence that way, you know you’re doomed. “I’d have killed to get an opportunity like this...” 
Mom continues rambling about how privileged and spoiled you and Sarah are, how she was never given those kinds of chances. She mentions her rough upbringing and hammers in the sacrifices she made to raise you. She reminds Sarah all the times she showed up for her and that she loves her the same way a mother would. You spot the exact moment your sister breaks. By the end, the guilt both Sarah and you feel is palpable, its weight clogging the air. 
“Ugh…Fine, we’ll do it,” Sarah relents.
Mom’s sour face immediately shifts to a triumphant expression.
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As the evening rolls around, the sky shifting to duskier hues, an unexpected presence slips through your bedroom door. 
You sit up, your pink headphones tumbling down to your neck. 
“Rafe!” you exclaim, eyes widening in astonishment.
A lopsided smirk unfolds on his face at your reaction. He slowly closes the door and strolls to your bed. The mattress bounces when Rafe tosses himself on it. He drags his fingers along your sheets for a while, the golden family ring on his finger glimmering dully. You wait anxiously with your legs crossed.
After what seems an eternity, blue eyes swing upward as he sighs.
“I’m sorry I was a jerk earlier,” he blurts out. He licks his lips and holds your gaze, his fingers wandering to your knee. Rafe’s deep voice lowers, oozing sadness. “I just know everyone in this house will drive me crazy if you’re not there.”
“There’s always Sarah.”
That draws a burst of laughter from him. He shakes his head.
“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that.”
Your face breaks out in a grin. Throughout the years, it’s always staggered you how different the dynamic between you and Rafe is different from his relationship with Sarah. Everything’s a competition for Rafe when it comes to Sarah, starting with the ceaseless quest for Dad’s approval. Meanwhile, since that day at the wedding, Rafe has never failed to be there for you. He’s been the best big brother, attentive and kind. While on the exterior he could be a jackass to everyone, including your Pogue friends, he’s never been that way with you. You could talk to him about your problems, however trivial they may be. He’s the one who made you feel most welcome at Tannyhill, impugning every presumption you harbored about what having Rafe Cameron as your brother would be like. And now you can’t picture your life without Rafe in it. 
“It’ll be fine. We’ll text. I’ll call you every week.”
“Won’t be the same.”
You take a deep breath.
“For the record, I’ll miss you too. A lot.”
“You better.”
You chuckle.
“Hey, I never gave you your birthday gift…” Rafe says, fishing for something in his back pocket. A sly smirk tugs his lips. “I wanted to do something a little different this year.” You’re filled with shock when he produces a little bag full of white powder. 
You blink rapidly as he holds it up. You’ve seen him take some at parties, sell it to his guests. Once or twice, you got curious and asked to try. He vehemently turned you down, insisting he’s not about to let his little sister get fucked up…despite spending the whole night getting fucked up himself.
“Really?”
Rafe’s smirk broadens. “Really.”
Excitement flushes through you. You can’t deny you’ve always wanted to know what it feels like.
“You like…never let me try before.”
He laughs, shifting closer to you. 
“Because I was trying to keep my sweet little sister pure. Can you blame me, princess?” he says, fingertips tracing your knee. 
You swallow thickly, your face heating when he places the little pouch in your hand.
“I actually have no idea how to…”
“I’ll show you, of course. It’s my job as your big brother to teach you everything.” His voice dips to a velvety bass as your eyes lock. “So let me pop your cherry, princess.”
When you stare at him, slack-jawed, Rafe snorts. 
“It’s just a phrase, relax.”
Amusement dances in his blue eyes at your clueless expression. He grabs a paper from his pocket and begins rolling it. 
“Here, I’ll show you how it’s done.” He gently swipes the pouch and takes your hand, opening your palm to pour just a tiny amount of the white powder in the middle. “Let’s just keep this a secret between us, okay?” His eyes twinkle. “I don’t want Alice to think I’m… corrupting you or something.”
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