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livinginshambles · 7 months

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But what about me | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.1k

Summary: Established relationship - You're jealous of the new girl but are mature about it, James is oblivious, and he also forgets your birthday and anniversary.

Notes: So here it is, a new version. I'm not going to continue the taglist, because it is kind of a hassle to take care of. Lily is our friend. OC Rosalie sucks. James is stupid. Spelling mistakes, grammar mistakes, probably a happy ending, you know the drill.

Masterlist

“What’s on your mind?”

_________________________

You stared at James from a distance.

You shot up, your eyes widened in an alarmed manner before your posture relaxed when you saw it was Annabelle. She was a Hufflepuff ghost, a student who had tragically died during a Triwizard tournament, a few decades ago.

You shook your head in reassurance. “Nothing’s on my mind-“

“-So, the usual then?” Sirius’ voice popped up behind you and you wasted no time in elbowing him in the ribs, causing him to let out an “oomph”. You quickly waved at Annabelle who floated off.

“Watch it Padfoot,” you sternly told him, and you tried your best to give him a reprimanding look. By the laughing sound of his reaction, you failed in appearing intimidating.

“So,” Sirius began. “Big day tomorrow ey?” He wiggled his eyes suggestively. You laughed and rolled your eyes. “Yeah, my birthday. Stop making it sound weird,” you huffed, and you shook your head.

“Totally worth it, Annika just walked past us with a beet red face,” Sirius defended with a mischievous grin.

“You should stop your inappropriate comments, I mean you are literally my cousin,” you stated loudly, and Sirius earned a disgusted look from another student passing by.

Sirius’ mouth hung open and then he scrambled to defend himself. “So, we’re not related at all, she was kidding!” His voice and pitch raised by the end of the sentence as he called out to the student who’d given him a not-so-subtle side eye.

You gave him a smug look. “Fine,” Sirius relented. “Truce?” You two shook hands.

“You’re not trying to steal my girl, are you Pads?” Two arms found their way around your waist, followed by a kiss to your cheek.

Sirius let go of your hand to hold them up in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare, Prongs, just chatting because she seemed lonely,” he shrugged. You shot him a glare.

“Lonely?” James’ attention immediately zoned in on you.

“He’s just talking out of his ass, Jamie,” you waved it off.

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, because you were definitely not longingly looking at Prongs here, talking to that gir-“ This time, you kicked his shins.

“Nah, I’m just pranking you, mate,” Sirius nonchalantly changed course and patted James on the shoulder while he passed him. James ignored him and focused on you.

He spun you around by one arm, held above your head like you were doing a ballroom dance. His hands quickly settled on your sides when you faced him, and he leaned over to pepper your face full of pecks. You grinned up at him and he fondly looked back before pulling you in again for a deeper kiss.

“Really?” A portrait next to you spoke up snorted. “Right in front of my salad?” He gestured to the painted salad on the dinner table in front of him.

James pointedly ignored him and instead tried to pull you a little bit closer. Not that that was possible.

“Oh, now you’re just doing it on purpose,” The man in the painting complained, and you would imagine the grimace on his face if you weren’t too preoccupied with James, who was leaving small pecks against your lips.

“Don’t like what you see, look away,” James murmured against you.

“Disrespectful cretin these days. I would look away, but you are right in my sight,” The portrait huffed dramatically. You softly pushed James away to offer the poor man a sheepish look but found that he’d already escaped to a neighboring painting.

“So tomorrow,” James started, and you couldn’t help but get excited at the prospect of a date with James. That giddy feeling sank very quickly when James finished his sentence.

“I’ll be training our newest Chaser for the day. That’s the girl I was talking to before,” he explained. “Her name’s Rosalie James, isn’t that funny? Like her last name is James, it confused me a lot during today’s practice,” James continued, not noticing that your mind had wandered of the brunette girl.

“She even joked that if we’d get married, I could change my name to James James,” he laughed. You didn’t particularly see the humor in that.

“Anyway,” he continued, “I know I said that we would study together in the library tomorrow, but I think we should move that to Sunday.”

You frowned, “can we not just move it to the evening then?” you asked, wondering if James was really planning on spending the entirety of your birthday with someone else.

“Well, it’s from 9 o’clock until 7 o’clock in the evening, and we have a Quidditch party thing afterwards, but it’s more of a teambuilding thing. I can ask them if you can join though?” James offered.

You blinked at him in confusion before offering him a smile in return. “What, no- I wouldn’t want to intrude,” you denied. You assumed that he’d find some time to squeeze in a birthday celebration.

James shrugged. “Suit it yourself, love.”

You didn’t actually think James would forget your birthday. After all, James was literally the perfect boyfriend. He was proud to show you off to people, always ready to lend an ear when you needed to, and most of all showering you with love, any chance he gets.

But we’re all still humans after all, today was very busy so it probably just slipped his mind. That’s completely okay, you told yourself. And so, you tried to push away your thoughts, wanting to enjoy the cake that you and the girls had snuck from the kitchen as a late-night snack.

“Red velvet is the best, I swear,” Lily laughed with a sigh as she let herself fall flat on her back in satisfaction. Marlene agreed wordlessly, preoccupied with stuffing more cake in her mouth.

“Happy birthday again,” Alice smiled kindly at you, and you beamed at her. “Thank you, guys, for today, you shouldn’t have bought me the expensive painting equipment,” you said as you motioned towards the brand-new canvasses, brushes, primer, and oil paint.

“Nonsense,” Marlene replied in mock offense. “But you will paint me one day, right?” She batted her eyelashes at you. You pretended to think about it. “I mean, for 15 galleons?” you joked and then had to rush to take your words back when Marlene agreed without hesitance.

“I was only joking,” you laughed and swatted her lightly.

“Eh, leave the joking to your boyfriend and the other marauders,” Lily teased you. “Speaking of them,” she started, and you looked down, knowing the follow up question. “What did they get you for your birthday?

“Well,” you recalled your day so far. “Peter, Remus and Sirius gifted me an expandable suitcase, so I can put all my collectables in there.”

“Damn,” Alice whispered. You sheepishly scratched your head. “Yeah, it took me by surprise too. Last I checked, it cost way too much. I sure hope they acquired it in a legal manner,” you joked.

“I mean, both Sirius and James are well off, so maybe they could afford it and actually bought it,” Alice joked along.

You shrugged. “Oh, James didn’t pitch in for the suitcase. Remus said that he’d told them he was getting something more personal for me,” you said.

“Ugh, what a sap,” Lily commented lightheartedly, and you agreed with a chuckle. “So, what did he get you then?” Lily asked exasperatedly, already expecting something ridiculously grand.

There was a beat of silence.

“Uh, I’m not sure, we didn’t get around to celebrating my birthday together,” you settled on answering.

“What?” Marlene, Lily, and Alice asked in chorus.

“He was busy,” you defended James.

“The entire day?” Marlene squinted her eyes, absolutely seeing through your bullshit excuse. You shrugged in response but nodded your head. “The entire day?” She repeated in disbelief. “Like he couldn’t pop in in the morning or during breakfast?” You shrugged again.

“I guess he forgot,” you mumbled, starting to feel down again. Alice quickly caught on to that and decided to change the subject, trying to cheer you up. “Anyway, should we picnic tomorrow by the lake?”

You exhaled in relief. “I would love that.”

Sirius and James entered their dorms and greeted the other two marauders. “And? Did she like the suitcase?” Sirius immediately asked while he made himself at home on the foot end of Remus’ bed.

“Definitely, like she couldn’t believe it. She even did the happy wiggly dance,” Peter and Remus laughed at the memory. Sirius held his hand up to high five them and grinned in victory. “I told you guys, she needed someplace to put all that stuff she collects.”

James had been utterly confused since he stepped into the room and was not at all following the conversation. It was definitely about you, he figured that much from the wiggly happy dance. But what on earth were they buying you stuff for?

“You guys gave Y/N a suitcase?” He asked cluelessly.

“Yeah, why?” Remus inquired, eyebrows raised. “Is that not up to standard to the great James Potter?” He sarcastically asked, already expecting James to start gloating about whatever he got as a present for you.

“Well, if you guys have that much money in abundance to spend, save some for great pranks too,” James complained jokingly.

Sirius stared at James in confusion. “Huh?”

Peter tilted his head while examining James’ facial expression of confusion and then hesitantly asked. “James, did you forget about Y/N’s birthday?”

Time stopped for James, and he could hear his heart beat loudly, blood rushing to his ears as realization dawned on him, entirely to slowly.

“Merlin!” he loudly cursed, wide-eyed.

At his confession, Remus and Sirius’ jaws slacked. “You forgot!?” They shouted in unison.

Peter covered his ears at their yelling.

“Y/N!”

You turned your head, trying to find the source and halted in your step when your eyes landed on James who was frantically making his way through the hordes of students, crowding the corridor. He had been trying to find you since breakfast.

“Yes?”

James stopped in front of you, out of breath, a little flushed in the face and an apologetic expression adorned his face. You already knew what he was going to say and held up your hand to stop him in advance.

“I don’t need your apology,” you sighed out. James words died in his throat, and it took a moment for him to break out of it. “Love, I’m a right twit, I know.” He unintentionally shot you a defeated look with puppy eyes that you couldn’t help but melt for.

“How was your day yesterday?” was all you ended up asking as you continued making your way towards the library. You motioned with your head for him to follow you.

“I missed you,” James sincerely answered. He still pouted, seemingly upset, but all directed at himself of course. “I can’t believe I forgot,” he frowned. “I’ll work to be the greatest boyfriend again, I promise.” His eyes sparkled with determination, and you couldn’t suppress your amusement anymore, a smile lifting the corners of your lips.

“Well, you’re not off the hook yet, Potter.”

“Not the last name,” James whined. You shot him an unimpressed look that had him accept defeat.

“So, no kisses for you anymore,” you huffed for extra measure, in retaliation to his complaint.

“Wait what? You can’t do that, that’s so mean,” James immediately protested.

“For a week,” you added. “Forgetting about me yesterday was mean to me too.”

James’ hand made its way to intertwine with yours. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But this is still okay, right?”

You squeezed his hand. “It’s twelve o’clock right now. Do you want to have lunch first or study a little bit in the library?”

James gave you a bright smile. “Whatever you want.”

“I want you to choose,” you retorted.

“Lunch, please.”

James spent the following week almost draped over you. His entire body leaned into you, your hands always together, and every time he came in for a kiss, he reminded himself to respect your wishes, which left him burying his face in your neck instead.

It was Sunday and you hummed peacefully to yourself while you were sketching in the boys’ dorms, on James’ bed. You sat in the middle of his crossed legs, his arms were wrapped around your middle. His chin was rested on your shoulder which left him with the perfect view on your drawing in progress.

“I love you,” he quietly mumbled.

“I know, Jamie. I love you too,” you nudged him. James’ arms slipped away, and he moved away from you, you frowned at the loss of contact and warmth, leaning into the pillows behind you instead. “What are you-?”

James moved in front of you and nestled himself between your own crossed legs, back to your stomach, exchanging the position you had previously been in. He slouched a bit until his head leaned against your chest.

“My, you’re putty today, love,” you teased him softly. You closed your sketchbook and started untangling his curly hair.

“I’m really sorry I missed your birthday,” James whispered. You melted.

You chuckled and shrugged. “Sometimes things slip our mind. It just made me feel a little bummed out, that’s all.”

James hummed. “Well, I can promise you that I won’t forget about our anniversary though,” he said, voice filled with determination. You laughed. “That’s still a long time from now Jamie,” you mused.

“I’m already counting down the days so that there’s absolutely no way that I’ll forget it.”

“Hey James?”

James looked up at you.

“It’s twelve o’clock.”

James blinked twice and then a wolfish grin appeared as he practically jumped up and turned to face you, tackling you to bring you in for a kiss.

You groaned at the impact of your head against the wall behind you and James grinned sheepishly in apology before grabbing your hips and pulling you further down the bed to make space so he could finally press his lips to yours, all while completely melting into you and sighing in relief at the feeling.

And for two weeks, everything seemed to be perfectly fine. Until Rosalie joined the picture again, that is.

Dorcas sat next to you in class and elbowed you softly. “What’s up with James and that girl?” she whispered. You looked up from your notes and glanced at James who was nodding enthusiastically at a drawing that Rosalie was showing James. It was a portrait of him, and you couldn’t help but feel a pit in your stomach at how well she drew him.

Features that were so on point, up to the little details like the three tiny birthmarks that seem to disappear amidst his freckles and that one freckle on his upper lip that you often pressed an extra peck to. You knew that for such a detailed, accurate and hyper realistic drawing, Rosalie had probably spent a lot of time studying him up close.

You averted your attention back to Dorcas and forced a smile. “She’s their new Chaser,” was all you replied.

Dorcas sent another skeptical look in James and Rosalie’s direction but didn’t comment on it any further.

“Guess what, love?!” James burst into the common room where you and Remus were calmly reading. James skipped over to the couch you were sitting on and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“What?” you entertained him.

“I just made a deal with the kitchen elves and they’re going to cook us a candle lit dinner for our anniversary,” James triumphantly grinned from ear to ear as if he had just won the Quidditch cup.

Your eyes widened and you jumped up in excitement and disbelief. “How did you manage to do that?” You curiously pondered.

James puffed his chest. “A magician never reveals his secrets,” he secretively replied, and you huffed and swatted him with a laugh. “We’re all magicians here, James,” you pointed out with a pout.

James leaned down to press a kiss to your pouted lips. “Just enjoy dinner with me. It’s in three weeks.” He was not about to tell you that he made a deal with the elves to go and clean the kitchen every day after supper for three weeks.

“Thank you, James,” you said, voice muffled because you had your face buried in his neck, arms around him in a tight hug.

You were incredibly excited for your anniversary, having a surprise for him as well, as you managed to get him tickets to the Quidditch world cup.

You waited for James in the changing rooms, Gryffindor had just lost an important match to Slytherin, and you knew that James would be feeling down. The Gryffindor team walked in, and you got up from the bench you were seated on. When you found James, he immediately came in for a hug.

“You did great out there, love. I’m proud of you,” you whispered.

“But it wasn’t enough,” James frowned. “They’re just always better than us, it doesn’t even matter how much we practice, because in the end, we can’t beat them.”

You stroked his hair in a consoling manner.

“And what’s the point if we can’t bloody beat Slytherin,” James spat out in frustration. You threw Sirius a look over James’ shoulder.

“Don’t say that, Jamie. You’ve won the last two games, and you don’t have to win against them,” you tried. Apparently, that was not what James wanted to hear and you would later beat yourself up for seeming to discard his feelings.

James pulled away with a frown. “But it’s not enough!” You flinched at his loud tone. “I just want-, It’s,” he let out an aggravated sound. “You don’t understand, okay. The feeling of constantly losing to the same opponent, its-“ James was struggling to find the words and you tried to apologize, alarmed, and feeling guilty.

Rosalie showed up behind James and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, we’ll get them next time, James. She just doesn’t get it because she’s not on the team.”

You felt hurt by her dismissive statement and wanted to retort when James agreed with her. “Exactly, Y/N, you don’t even play Quidditch, you don’t know what this feels like.”

Your heart sank in embarrassment and hurt, and your mouth formed an inaudible ‘oh’.

“Come on, Prongs. It’s not her fault we lost, don’t take it out on her,” Sirius moved to stand next to James and swatted him lightly. James sighed, closed his eyes, and pinched his nose.

“’m sorry, love. That was totally uncalled for,” he admitted, and he reached his arm for you to pull you back in for a hug. You subtly evaded his arm and swiftly moved yourself to the door.

“No, no. I actually need to go meet up with Peter, so uh. You guys have fun. And yeah,” you awkwardly did a mini wave with your hand towards the team and fled.

Sirius leaned in towards James. “Good job, mate.”

“Sod off.” You didn’t leave his mind at all for the rest of the night.

You were about to scream bloody murder when you were shaken awake in the middle of the night, but a hand covered your mouth and when your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you could vaguely make out your boyfriend.

“James?” you incredulously whispered. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

James motioned to his invisibility cloak. “Sleep with me?” He asked and gave you a pleading look. You folded and so you tripled to the boy’s dorms under the cloak and then nestled yourself in his arms. A leg draped over his while you two fell into a peaceful slumber.

James was once again looking everywhere for you. This time with a slight sense of dread instead of the usual excitement.

When he finally found you and saw that you were laughing along with Sirius, he hesitated. He was halfway through changing his mind on addressing the issue with you when you called out to him.

“Morning!” you said, and you slid a sandwich in his direction. “You missed breakfast today, everything okay?" You asked.

James glanced at Sirius, and he excused himself and then left.

“I know we were going to go to Hogsmeade for our anniversary, but Rosalie managed to get tickets to a Quidditch game of our favourite team, and we even get to meet them afterwards. Like I can ask them for tips on playing, it’s just such an opportunity…” He trailed off when he noticed your fallen expression, which you quickly tried to cover up.

“Hey, that sounds like an amazing opportunity,” you assured him because it was true.

“We’re still on for that candle lit dinner, though?” You tried to joke, but it came off more as an insecure question.

James immediately enveloped you in a big hug. “Of course we are, 10 o’clock in the evening and I promise I’ll make it up to you afterwards.”

You laughed quietly. “You better.”

Your eyes crinkled in laughter as the kitchen elves tried their best to cheer you up and keep you occupied while James was hopefully simply running late. But by the time it was one o’clock in the morning, you decided to call it a night and thanked the elves for teaching you two new dishes and chess.

On your way to the dorms, you heard hushed whispers around the corner. When you turned it, however, you saw it was empty, but you knew better. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, contemplating if you wanted to do this now or tomorrow.

“James,” you called out.

There was a beat of silence and then the invisibility cloak slid off to reveal James and Rosalie, sneaking back inside the castle.

“Love? What are you doing up at this hour-“ he stopped halfway through his sentence with a curse.

“Wait, Y/N, this is my fault, not James’,” Rosalie piped up, but you were done with her.

“Go.”

Rosalie shot James one last glance and when he didn’t look back at her, instead still frozen, attention focused on you, she scurried away.

“I lost track of time. We went to have drinks with the players and time flashed by so quickly and then I completely forgot. And then Rosalie got sick, so -“

“Stop talking about her for a moment.” James looked at you, confused.

“Every single time, it is always you and Rosalie. It’s always her.” You didn’t bother hiding your hurt feelings anymore.

“But what about me,” you whispered defeatedly.

James shook his head. “No, it’s not her. I swear it’s not. It’s bad timing.” he firmly stated. “This isn’t even her fault, it was me and my enthusiasm to go to the game, I-“

“Why do you keep defending her?” You cut him off, allowing tears to well up in your eyes. James bit his lower lip. “I’m sorry,’ he eventually admitted.

“Yeah,” you breathed out exhaustedly. “You always are, aren’t you? Just like you always promise to make it up to me.”

“I will,” he weakly defended. “We can go back to the kitchen right now, eat food, celebrate our anniversary,” his eyes desperately searched yours for forgiveness, but in the darkness of the castle, he couldn’t find any.

“I spent three hours in the kitchen already, I’ve eaten the great food that the elves prepared for me, and our anniversary has already passed,” you coldly stated.

James’ eyes averted to his own feet, ashamed.

You tightly shut your eyes for a moment. And basked in the silence. When you opened your eyes again, you took in James’ posture. He seemed so very small all of a sudden.

Then you walked straight past him, while he was still frozen in place. When you passed him, you halted next to him and turned your head towards him. “I really hope she’s worth it, James.”

This seemed to snap him out of it, and he turned around in a flash. “Wait!” he called out in panic and immediately lowered his voice. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?” His eyes were pleading, and he looked distraught.

You scoffed softly to yourself. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. I’m tired, so I’m going to bed, or else I actually will,” you replied shortly and retreated to your dorm.

Sirius whistled when James entered the room and unknowingly started to rub salt right in James’ well-deserved wound. “One o’clock in the morning, damn Prongs. You two must’ve had fun in the kitchen. How was the food? Did you like the present? I helped her with that,” he boasted.

James shook his head, “I messed it up again, Padfoot.”

Sirius eyes squinted ever so slightly at James. “No way,” he ended up asking in disbelief.

James didn’t answer right away, and Sirius got up out of bed and approached James. Then he shoved him. “Tell me you showed up for your anniversary, Prongs.”

James who had been looking at the ground finally met Sirius eye to eye, tears pooling in his own eyes. “We just lost track of the time, and then Ro-“

“If you finish that sentence and it’s about Rosalie, I will hurt you, James Potter.”

James helplessly looked at Sirius. “But you guys have it all wrong. It’s not her fault-“

Sirius grabbed James by the collar and shook him for good measure. “Prongs, mate. Wake the bloody hell up, would you.” His eyes bore straight through James’.

“Rosalie fancies you. It’s as clear as day. She demands your attention at all times. Asks for Quidditch practice, specifically with you, for an entire day. She diminishes our Y/N’s value in front of everyone, is pretentious and makes it seem as if you two are more compatible. She tries so hard to have so many common things with you like her last name, and she literally has a sketchbook full of portraits of you, which is rather creepy. Besides, she fully knew you were supposed to be back by ten o’clock for your date. I get it man, it’s subtle, but you’re smarter than that.”

Sirius released James and sighed. “And worst of all, Prongs, is that you let it happen. And every time you do, she wins a little more until Y/N will stop playing this stupid game for you.”

James let Sirius’ words sink in and the more he thought about it, the more he realized how right Sirius was.

“I don’t do it on purpose, Pads. Believe me. I know everything looks terrible, but I didn’t realize it.” James took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes tiredly, and pulled a hand through his locks.

“I forgot her birthday, but it was just a busy day, and I don’t really have a choice as captain but to train the new players. A-and I immediately apologized to Y/N when I realized what a twat I was in the locker room. And I didn’t miss my anniversary for a date with another girl or anything, there was a once in a lifetime opportunity to meet people I’ve looked up to, and I know it looks bad together because Rosalie was involved in all those instances, but I never meant to hurt Y/N. You know I’m in love with her.”

James started pacing through the room. It was a miracle that the others hadn’t woken up yet.

“Okay, I believe you,” Sirius decided after consideration. “But maybe try properly explaining and apologizing to Y/N. And then confront Rosalie and tell her to sod off.”

James nodded. “Yeah, yeah okay. I’ll do that.” Sirius looked a little skeptically at James and then patted his shoulder before climbing back in bed, while James did the same.

He had almost fallen back asleep when James asked, “Do you think she’d forgive me?”

Sirius was quiet. He’d seen the hurt look on your face multiple times and had instead tried to keep your mind off of James whenever he saw you stare at James and Rosalie.

“I think she might break up with me, Sirius,” James whispered in a small voice. He couldn’t sleep, his mind was filled with guilt, distress and you.

“Go sleep James, we’ll figure it out in the morning.”

You took a deep breath before pushing through the grand doors of the Great Hall. You spotted the empty seat amongst the marauders and let your eyes slide across the Gryffindor table to look for James.

You found him talking with Rosalie, and you almost wanted to turn around and leave, when you spotted her sour face when he finally walked back to his seat. James wore a relieved expression and was greeted by the marauders with pats on the back in congratulations.

Sirius spotted you and waved you over, scooting over himself so you could squeeze in.

“Good morning,” you gratefully smiled at the boys and sat down. James absentmindedly loaded your favourite food on your plate out of habit and then hesitated. He hadn’t really dared look you in the eyes yet, still ashamed after lying awake all night, thinking of all the things he’d done.

When your stretched out hand appeared in his sight, he looked up and saw a kind expression on your face. He handed you the plate and relaxed a little.

“Sirius tells me you want to explain some things to me, so unless you have a date with Rosalie over there,” you gestured to the girl who was not looking happy. “We could talk after breakfast?”

James nodded eagerly, eyes wide. “Yes, please.” He stared at you, and almost frowned, wondering why you didn’t seem as angry as you did last night, or rather this early morning.

You noticed his stare and knew what he was thinking. “I told you; I was tired, upset and couldn’t deal with it then. But I’ve had a good night’s sleep. I have thought about everything and decided that I’m not going to rashly throw away two years of unconditional love and friendship between us, for things that I feel like you want to explain to me. It’s not so black and white in decisions when it comes to love and my love isn’t that fragile.”

“Thank you,” James breathed out, already feeling like crying.

“Don’t thank me, thank Pads, he is vouching for you,” you hummed. “But your explanation better be worth it. And that’ll be at least two weeks without kisses.”

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yoonia · 3 months

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A Christmas Fix — 01 (m) | kth

⟶ Summary | One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

With special collab prompt: "the holidays aren't so bad with you around."

⟶ Title | A Christmas Fix

⟶ Pairings | Taehyung x female reader

⟶ Genre | Secret Baby!au, Second Chance!au, Strangers to Lovers!au

⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, vomiting/morning sickness, surprise babies, miscommunication, profanities/swearing, minor body insecurities (implied), some family drama; involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, one night stand, drunk sex (with clear consent), minor dom/sub dynamic, brat!reader, size kink, rough sex, light choking, restraint, hair pulling (M, F), protected & unprotected sex, fingering (F), oral sex (F), clit play, breast play, stripping, biting, minor hand job/groping, grinding, masturbation (M, F), dirty talk, implied pain kink, praise kink, body worship, marking, multiple orgasms (M, F), overstimulation.

⟶ Word count | 25,363 words (of 54,773 words)

⟶ Story Notes | Part of the Jingle All the Way collaboration with @leahsfavefics, @kithtaehyung, @kpopfanfictrash, @cybrsan, and @sugaurora | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs) | Moodboard was done by me | Posted in: January 31st, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Author Notes | I know that this is so late, but December has always been a rough month for me and this time it continued until January. I hope you can still enjoy this story regardless. Happy belated holidays and happy new year, my loves!

⟶ Jingle All the Way collab masterlist | A Christmas Fix: next chapter ⇢

⟶ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi

⟶ Read on AO3

One month ago…

You already had everything perfectly planned out when you first thought of this trip some long months ago.

Everything.

From your personal bucket list full of wonderful things that you wanted to experience during your time away and the places that you wanted to see, down to the smallest details that you could possibly think of to be able to enjoy every single moment of your secret getaway.

Just like the red dress that you had chosen to wear tonight. The dress you had meticulously picked and bought to wear on the trip as you went to celebrate your newfound freedom.

In your well-thought-out plan, you were supposed to have landed on the tropical island you were headed to by sundown. The warm tropical breeze should have been embracing you at the start of your trip instead of the cold, chilly wind flowing right outside these walls.

By this evening, you should have already settled in nicely in the comfort of your hotel room right by the beachside. The calming sound of the rushing waves outside your window was the sound that you should have been listening to while resting from your long flight.

You had pictured yourself embracing your freedom in a foreign land. To feel the soft sand slipping between your toes as you were playing chase with the rushing waves, and to find calmness that you could only get far away from the treacherous city where you came from.

The trip was meant to help you mend your soul. Perfectly planned out as an escape from reality and leave all of your past hurt behind before starting a new chapter of your life.

And yet, no matter how thoroughly you had it all planned out, somehow life simply found a way to mess it all up. Just like how it had always been. So perhaps you shouldn’t have been so surprised when it happened to you again, just when you thought that you had everything under control.

You should have seen the signs long before everything started crumbling down.

The sky that kept growing darker ever since you left the city. The constant turbulences happening during your first flight that made the trip feel intense. The unsettling feeling you met the moment you landed in this place for your transit. The constant announcements echoing through the airport about flights that were getting delayed and cancelled while you were getting no news about your transit flight’s departure.

You should have been prepared to face reality, keeping in mind that life hadn’t been so nice to you lately to let you slip away that easily. Yet your stubbornness prevailed. And after your most recent predicament, you needed this trip to happen. You needed to be right.

After all, you have made it all the way here. It would have been impossible for you to return home, wouldn’t it?

So you remained in denial and were so stubbornly holding onto hope that you would soon be taken away from this place towards your dream destination. Even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart.

But after long hours of waiting, you were finally forced to accept your fate, letting go of any hope you had left to escape this place when they officially cancelled the rest of today’s flights due to unresolved weather issues. Including yours.

“I’m sorry, but we really can’t promise you anything at this moment. There will be no flights until the storm passes and our pilots are cleared to fly again. Until then, we have nothing to tell you.”

The staff’s swift response to your inquiries about getting on the first flight available to take you to your destination only left you with a dead end. Even flying back home was no longer an option, only because that would only mean that you were admitting defeat.

And that was how you ended up here tonight, stranded right between the daunting city that you called home and the paradise that you wished to be in until an unforeseeable future. Your dream of enjoying the night in the comfort of the beachside hotel room overlooking the wide, clear ocean, had been replaced with the reality where you had to spend overnight at the airport’s transit hotel that the airline staff helped book for you.

You released a sigh as you leaned back against the elevator wall. Recounting the events again only brought back all the terrible mood you were having. And it didn’t help that the last message that your roommate sent you only reminded you of your setback.

From Skye: Just checking on you on your secret getaway. I hope you’re having a blast right now. I wish you’d tell me where you’re heading so I can have a good reason to be jealous. Be safe!

Another sigh came from your lips as you wondered—

Now how am I supposed to answer her text?

Before you could find an answer, the elevator doors opened as it reached the lobby downstairs. You put away your phone as you stepped out, and immediately got lost in your thoughts. Your mind once again getting too loud as it keeps you company.

At first, you had no intention of hiding this trip from her. Yet all the circumstances leading to this weekend had made it hard for you to share anything to anyone.

You were planning to wait until you were finally there so you could surprise her with pictures from the beautiful beach or your comfortable hotel room. Showing her the pretty nighttime scene from the tropical island would have been a nice way to flaunt your secret getaway rather than boasting it when your fate had been filled with uncertainty.

But instead of having an evening walk down the beach, you were trudging across the lobby inside an airport hotel, accompanied by the sound of your heels clicking on the marble floors instead of having sand soiling your feet.

And the view outside the window that you got to see earlier had been nowhere close to the pretty beach with its white sand and rolling waves. Instead, you had a clear view of the dark night sky, painted with the raging storm and its blaring thunders so strong they almost caused the entire bedroom to shake. Neither showed any sign of calming down any time soon, leaving you with no other choice but to do what you could to enjoy your temporary stay.

And you were going to start doing so by having a quick drink to help you unwind for the night.

The red dress that you were wearing might seem a bit excessive for a nightcap, but for a short while, it helped you forget where you were. It felt almost as if you were walking in a dream as you strolled down the lower lobby in search of the hotel bar.

Entering the hotel bar, however, became another wake-up call.

The bar was quite large for a transit hotel, accommodating the patrons filling the place tonight. You had hoped that you could have a dance or two with a friendly stranger before retreating to your hotel room to rest, yet the closed-off lounge area had more space filled with box seats than the open dance floor. The seating area was the only place in the bar which was dimly lit, allowing the guests some privacy while they settled in with their drinks.

The small chandeliers glittering from the ceiling were far from the hanging lights that you pictured hanging in a beachside bar. Just like the one place you had seen pictures of while planning for your trip. The lights you were seeing here made the entire space beneath seem luxurious, spreading a soft golden glow over the wary faces trying to enjoy the night.

The pulsing bass that came out of the speakers was enough to drown the sound of the violent storm happening on the other side of these walls, further helping to create an illusion that you were in another place. That you were somewhere else instead of being stranded inside an airport hotel, together with all the strangers who seemed to be facing the same fate as you did.

You made your way towards the main bar, suddenly feeling hyperaware of your surroundings. Even without looking, you could feel people’s eyes following your movements. Yet you paid no heed to them. You were only here to quiet down the raging storm happening inside your head, after all.

A strong scent of old wood took over the bar area. Mixed in with the excessive scent of air fresheners and cleaners, it was enough to remind you that you were miles and miles away from the beautiful island where you had been so desperate to be.

Smoothing your palms down your red dress, you took one empty seat at the bar. You caught the bartender’s eyes as he walked past, and within moments, a glass of strawberry daiquiri ended up in your hand.

This feels nice, you wondered to yourself as you sat back and tried to relax.

One sip of the sweet alcoholic drink was all that it took to refresh your mind. As the warmth from your drink ran smoothly through your body, any doubt and wariness you felt began to fade.

The next sip of the drink managed to ease your thoughts down a bit more. It helped push away the reminders of your troubles to the back of your mind. Finding calmness, you took another quick look at your surroundings.

The seating lounge seemed to be filled with guests more than the main bar was. Stranded travellers like yourself. At first glance, the nicely dressed men in suits made it seem like you were in a bar downtown. As if they were nothing more than a group of businessmen seeking leisure on a Friday night with drinks.

It only took you looking a few seats away from them for the illusion to shatter. Your eyes fell on a group of men and women wearing their summer clothing who were making a toast, acting as if they were at the peak of their vacation.

Looking at the scene made you realise that you weren’t the only one feeling miserable tonight. You wondered just how badly these people here needed to forget. How many of them here might be similar to you, stranded in an unexpected situation while trying to escape reality?

You raised your glass to hide your bitter smile. The smooth liquid continued to flow through your body and you slowly began to find some peace of mind. Before you knew it, you had finished your drink, though you weren’t exactly ready to return to your cold bedroom.

“Can I order you another glass of drink?”

A deep voice invaded your senses after a long period of silence, and it was coming from your side. You had been far too deep in your reverie that you didn’t even realise that someone had taken the empty seat right beside you at the bar.

Curious to see this friendly stranger, you slowly turned around to look at him. And what you saw in him nearly took your breath away.

A tall, lean man was sitting there. His slick hair had a few curls at the end of each strands, and he had combed them back, leaving nothing more than a few stands framing his handsome face that looked almost as if it had been sculpted by the fine hands of masters in art. His sharp nose and jawline drew your attention, while his deep and soulful eyes that appeared like pools of rich mahogany drew you in, as if he was hiding a story behind his intense gaze. But it was his plump lips that formed into a smile which caught your eyes the most.

At your silence that stretched out while you were busy being captivated by him, he raised his eyebrows. It made you realise that he was waiting for your answer. An answer to a question that you had so obviously missed.

“I’m sorry?”

He tilted his chin to point at your now empty glass. “You look like you could use another glass, and I’d love to get one for you,” he said with an amused tone of voice.

Once again, his deep, velvety voice hit you deeply. It resonated through your body, and a shudder ran down your spine. You refused to believe that he was able to cause this effect on you solely through his voice or his pretty smile.

But how else would you explain the reaction that was drawn from your body?

I don’t think I’m that drunk already, you wondered.

It was probably the way he spoke to you which affected you so much. The way he was asking a question with pure confidence. As if he already knew your answer, and that it would be impossible for you to refuse his offer.

And he wasn’t completely wrong about it.

What remained from your sullen mood immediately shifted in his presence. And while you have no intention of turning him down, you decided that you were not going to make things easy for him.

“An interesting offer that seems like such a waste for me to refuse,” you sweetly said to him, smiling as your eyes fell on his empty hands. “But how would a woman feel at ease to accept such an offer from a man who isn’t even holding a glass in his hand?”

He squinted his eyes at you, which only made his gaze feel more intense. “Are you afraid that I might be planning to get you drunk?”

You softly laughed. “Not sure if I should be so worried about that. Getting drunk tonight has always been my initial plan all along,” you coyly said, hiding the fact that it was never your intention to get wild tonight. But his appearance intrigued you enough to change your mind about ending the night so soon.

The mysterious man remained oblivious to this as he laughed with you. His wide, almost boxy grin mesmerised you in an instant and you were once again left speechless.

He waved his hand to grab the bartender’s attention. It was nothing more but a simple gesture, yet you were somewhat drawn to it. To him.

While he greeted the bartender, you took the chance to have a better look at this man. You noticed that he was a bit different compared to the other men that you saw around you earlier.

Dressed in a black jacket over his plain white shirt, he didn’t seem as sophisticated as the stranded businessmen in their flashy suits sitting together at the bar’s lounge. Yet he had a different level of confidence which was enough to make your cheeks feel warm.

In your eyes, he was alluring, almost as intensely as the dark storm happening outside. And you couldn’t resist being pulled towards him.

“Another glass of the same drink for the lady and a glass of grasshopper for me,” he smoothly spoke as he ordered the drinks for you.

The bartender nodded and went to work, while you slid closer to him. His fresh-scented cologne immediately hit you, and your confidence nearly wavered that you almost slid back. But then he caught you with his gaze as he turned back to you, giving you the kind of attention which boosted every bit of ego you had.

“So you also prefer something light and sweet. How intriguing,” you teased him, bringing back his alluring grin.

“Why do you think I came here to join you? It was obviously for the fruity drinks and to have someone to drink it together with,” he joked.

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Before you got to say something in return, the bartender came back with his order. The man took a sip of his drink first before you took yours. Once again, the sweetness from your drink swirled through your body, chipping away at the tension that had been weighing you down ever since the day’s saga began.

“To be honest, I also thought that you were looking a bit rough.” His remark brought your attention back to him. The tease was gone from his voice. All that was left was a gentle concern that seemed genuine. “And you looked like you needed a friend. That’s why I invited myself to join you.”

It makes you feel uneasy to think that you were being so transparent. So much so that a complete stranger like himself was able to see right through you.

“You think so? Wait until you hear how rough I’m feeling inside as well,” you bitterly said to him, drawing a soft smile to his face.

“That makes the two of us then,” he said to you gently with his eyes on his glass of drink. There was a forlorn look in his eyes as he slowly twirled the glass, causing the liquid to swish around before he took another sip from it.

“Care to share?” you questioned him before you could stop yourself, only to pull yourself back. “Sorry, that sounds creepy. We just met and here I am, prying into someone else’s business,” you nervously laughed.

His gaze softened when he looked at you. Furthermore, he also seemed intrigued.

“No, not at all.” His voice was calm, and it somehow helped to calm your nerves. “I was just about to lend an ear in case you needed someone to vent to. I never expected that you would be a step ahead of me before I could make the offer.”

The comment he gave you made you feel warm inside.

“Mine’s a long story,” you bitterly said to him as you raised your glass, almost giving in to the urge to take a hefty drink and finish it off when everything started coming back to you again.

The reason behind this trip, why you were stranded here on your own, while being far, far away from home, and all the drama that had gotten in the way when you had been so desperate to get away from everything.

Unsurprisingly, the man merely shrugged. “I’ve got time to spare. My flight won’t leave until tomorrow. And that is if they’re allowed to fly out of here at all.”

You smiled at him. “Same here. I guess we’re both stranded here all night, huh?”

He leaned in just then, invading your personal space and filling it with his presence. And you didn’t even mind it as you leaned into him, meeting him halfway to welcome him into your little safety bubble.

“And I was worried that I might get stuck feeling lonely while being stranded in this place,” he gently murmured, drawing a smile to your face.

“I doubt that you would end up alone tonight,” you teased him, simply because there was no possible way that someone as attractive as he was would be returning to his hotel bedroom alone.

His smile grew, yet the deep, dark look in his eyes shifted into something else. Something naughty and sinful. It made you feel a new sensation brewing inside even without him ever having to touch you.

“Is that an invitation?” he asked with his deep voice that came grazing at your skin.

Normally, you wouldn’t know what to say in return. It had been so long since you played this kind of game with someone. With anyone. But his presence and his words were drawing something out of you. A part of you that you never thought existed. And you surprised yourself when you played along, taunting danger head-on as you challenged this handsome stranger before you—

“Would you like it to be?”

Something flashed in his eyes. It was dark and intense, and it was sucking you in. It brought a myriad of sensations that unexpectedly went straight down to your core.

In the deep silence that fell right after, the world around you faded. Even before you got to know his name, before you had the chance to share your story, you already knew the answer that he was about to give you as a response to your question.

And you also knew right then, that the sparks that came rising around you were something that you would never be able to easily forget, even if every bit of memory you had about him would fade over time.

Present…

Why do I keep thinking about that night all over again?

You can only wonder, as you keep being reminded of that eventful night.

Weeks, nearly a month have gone by ever since, yet the memories seem to have been engraved deeply in your thoughts. And today, even though you haven’t really been thinking about it since, you suddenly find yourself having no trouble recounting everything that happened then.

Well, almost everything.

Some parts may seem blurry now. All due to the passing of time and the fact that you were partly inebriated at the time. But you can still recall some parts of the night that had clearly left a strong impression on you—the first encounter and the conversation you shared before alcohol took over, the instant attraction that you felt, but most of all, his entire presence.

And they all have been coming into your thoughts while you are sitting here in the corner of your bathroom. Alone. With your arms wrapped around your folded knees and your eyes closed. As if you are waiting for a miracle to happen.

You scoff at the thought.

Right. Miracles.

Years have long passed since you stopped believing that miracles do exist. Life always has its way of blindsiding you with its twists and turns that miracles no longer seem to matter anymore.

Not for you, at least.

Your past experiences have only caused you to look at it with sceptical eyes, sometimes even with bitterness, knowing that life has never been on your side.

But here you are now, wishing, praying, holding onto hope that there would be a miracle to stop you from getting into a messy situation. One that you know you wouldn’t be able to handle on your own.

After all, the perfect season of miracles is right around the corner. So it wouldn’t be so wrong for you to have some faith in them again now, would it?

Your phone starts blaring with the sound of the alarm, snapping you out of it. Slowly, you rise on your wobbly feet. It feels as if your entire body has grown numb even before you get to face reality as it comes glaring back at you.

Clutching onto the edges of your bathroom counter, you try to hold yourself together, and immediately failing, as you look at the two thin white strips lying on the cold counter and feel your entire world tilting off of its axis.

All because of the two red lines that are clearly visible on each strip.

“Oh, fuck,” you softly groan. Deep down, you had already predicted this. Yet you kept denying it, hoping that you would be wrong.

“No, no, no—” you continue murmuring to yourself while wishing that you could somehow turn back time and change everything before things started going the wrong way.

Back to this morning, when your roommate caught you—once again—throwing up last night’s dinner before handing you the unopened pregnancy test packs that she has been keeping safe in her room with the premise, “Just in case.”

Or maybe you could return to last night when she pointed out your odd cravings—like dipping apples into peanut butter and eating leftover mac and cheese straight from the fridge without warming it in the microwave first—and joked about how you have been acting like a pregnant woman with your mood swings.

Better yet, you wish you could go back to that night, back to that many weeks ago, when you allowed yourself to fall for a stranger’s charm which led you to spend the night with him.

You close your eyes, once again murmuring to yourself, “This has got to be a dream.”

But the moment you open your eyes again, nothing has changed. You are still standing there with your hands holding tightly onto the edges of the bathroom counter. And the two pregnancy test kits that you used are still lying on top of the counter for your eyes to see.

A rapid sound of knocking on the bathroom door sends you jumping back.

“Hey, ______? Is everything okay?” you hear your roommate, Skye, calling out for you. Her voice seems calm, yet when you recall hearing the sound of her footsteps moving back and forth outside of the door while you were taking the test, you know that she has been waiting just as anxiously as you were. “So—? What does it say?”

Still in shock, and quite stuck in denial, you open your mouth only to have no words coming out of you. Your brain feels a bit hazy as you walk up to the door and open it for her.

Skye takes one look at your face and her gaze softens. “What did it—” She shakes her head. “Oh, never mind, I’m dying to know. Let me see it,” she says as she brushes past you before you can say anything.

Hoping that there is a chance that reality can change within the next few seconds, you refuse to turn around and once again close your eyes while she suddenly grows quiet.

Maybe you were just imagining things. Maybe you weren’t even looking at the test properly. Maybe—

“So, uhm—” you can hear Skye’s voice trembling a little as she hesitantly asks you, “Two lines mean it’s positive, is that right?”

And just like that, every bit of hope you have in you flies out the window. “I wish I could say that it’s the other way around,” you softly murmur, feeling defeated.

And the feeling grows stronger when you hear her cursing under her breath,

“Well, fuck.”

“What are you doing?” you ask Skye as you gingerly take a seat on the sofa.

Once you both stepped away from the bathroom, she guided you to the living room while she sauntered away to the kitchen without a word. You can hear the noises she makes as she is busy rummaging through the counters. Yet you are too far away to see what she is up to.

“Hang on a minute. Stay there,” she calls out without even looking.

“Okay.”

It’s not like you have any energy to go anywhere, after all. Your head is still spinning and you can barely feel your legs. It feels as if you are stuck in a bad dream and you just can’t get out of it.

It doesn’t take long before Skye returns to your side, carrying with her two clean tall glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. It was the same bottle that you opened when you celebrated your promotion a couple of weeks ago after coming back from the trip.

Holy shit, you inwardly cry out. Your heartbeat rises as your hands find their way to your stomach.

“Okay, let’s try to calm down,” Skye says to you as she places both glasses on the table before you, although it seems to you more as if she is talking to herself instead of reassuring you while you are panicking inside.

A couple of weeks ago? Wouldn’t I have been already pregnant then?

These thoughts keep running through your head as you watch your roommate pouring wine into both glasses, just like the night she did the same when you first opened that same bottle.

Dear God, how much did I drink that night? You ask yourself with a grimace as you try to remember.

Wait, no. I didn’t drink anything, you remind yourself. Relief washes over you look back at the celebration night where you barely took a sip before Skye took the glass away from your hands.

Because you were already feeling sick that day.

You had been feeling nauseous for days, throwing up once in a while and mostly on the days when you were lacking sleep because of the workload you had to handle for the upcoming promotion. All you ever did was wet your lips with the wine after the celebratory toast. That was the only contact you made with the drink before Skye replaced it with a tall glass of alcohol-free smoothie that she made especially for your ‘upset stomach’.

Of course, how did I not see the signs? You wonder again as you remember the sickly feeling you had after vomiting each morning and feeling powerless for the rest of the day. It even got so bad that you had to skip work for a couple of days at the beginning of your ‘sickness’.

If only you knew then.

Your eyes are still on the wine glasses as Skye places them side by side and puts away the bottle.

“Uh—I believe we both just saw the two lines appearing on the test packs.”

She lets out a light scoff and waves her hand at you. “They're both for me. I’m going to need them while I process this,” she says, shaking her head as she sits down to join you on the sofa. “You get to keep that smoothie.”

You follow her gaze and look down at the glass of smoothie that you left on the table during the whole fiasco with the pregnancy test. While you pick up your drink, Skye takes a hefty drink from one of the glasses of wine and sits back.

“So—you’re pregnant,” she murmurs to herself. Her gaze flickers to your face for a brief moment and nods to herself before taking another drink.

Why does it seem like she is the one panicking?

She releases a sigh. Neither of you says anything for a moment. But you can tell when she grows more anxious by the minute. You don’t understand why, until she carefully asks you, “Are you going to tell Han?”

Confused, you look at her with your brows furrowed and ask, “Why would I tell Han that I’m pregnant?”

Skye looks genuinely confused, almost as much as you are, and you only realise the reason why when she asks you, “Isn’t Hansol the father? You guys have been dating for a long time and I can’t remember ever seeing you with anyone else while you’re on a break.”

You wince, realising too late that you have yet to tell her the truth.

“Actually—we’re not on a break,” you slowly admit with a low voice. Months have gone by, and even though it no longer hurts whenever you start thinking about your failed relationship or to mention your ex’s name, you cannot help but still feel bitter about how it ended and you hate talking about it.

That is the reason why you haven’t said anything about it to anyone. Maybe you were just too embarrassed. After all, it isn’t so easy to admit that you may have been the reason why the four-year relationship fell into pieces.

“I lied,” you say with a burst of deep sigh, “It was over, done, finished—”

“So you already broke up?” she cuts you off with a calm voice.

You bite your bottom lip as you slowly nod your head. “Yeah,” you whisper, suddenly feeling like your throat is tightening up. Not because you feel the sudden urge to cry. But only because this is all becoming too much to take at once.

“And the baby?” she carefully asks you. “It wasn’t Han—”

“The baby isn’t his,” you quickly answer before she even gets to question about it.

It’s hard enough to hear his name being mentioned after a while. It feels harder to think that you might be carrying his baby.

But the moment those words come out of your lips, reality finally sinks in. Grabbing the glass of your drink, you take a hefty drink out of it. You wish there was some alcohol in this thing. Maybe it would have helped you think more clearly.

That’s right. It couldn’t have been his.

Sighing to yourself, you begin to do the math. “We’ve been broken up for months, so if the baby is his, I’m sure I would be showing already by this time around,” you say this while gently rubbing your palm over your stomach.

Now that your suspicions have been confirmed, the gesture feels almost natural to you that your hand simply moves before you realise it, though it helps confirm that nothing much has changed with your body.

It feels odd to think that there is a life existing inside you, yet you cannot really see it with just one look. This convinces you further that the baby couldn’t have been conceived while you were still dating your ex. Looking back to it now, once you remember when exactly the sickness and craving started, it would only make sense that the baby was conceived on that specific night.

“So—if Hansol isn’t the Dad, then who was it?”

Biting your lip, you turn to look at Skye. Of course, if there is anyone in this world that you can talk to about this, it would only be her. Just like how she would come to you first whenever she is in a bind, whether it’s about her relationships, about work, or even the smallest things like having a bad day where you end up sharing a tub of ice cream to feel better.

After all, she isn’t just a roommate, but also someone you have known the longest compared to the other friends you’ve made since moving into this city. You have known each other since college, since back in freshman year when both of you were nothing more but young kids from small towns being thrust into the big city.

Being put together in the same dorm room led you to become fast friends. After years of enduring the same hardship in college, the two of you remained so close that you even moved to this city together and continued to live in the same place to keep each other company.

You have gone through everything with her, and you have always been honest with each other. It should have been easy to tell her everything. If only you could find the right words to begin sharing your story.

“I have no idea where to start.”

“Well,” Skye patiently says while twirling the glass of wine she’s holding. You squint your eyes at her when you find it almost empty. So unfair. “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

“Right. From the beginning,” you say this with a nod. “Do you remember when I went away last month?”

She nods. “Your secret getaway. Still jealous of that, by the way.”

You give her a small smile. “Yeah, well—there’s a reason why I insisted on going alone on that trip. I actually planned it as a surprise vacation for me and Hansol. The original idea was for us to have a romantic getaway for our fourth anniversary.”

Skye raises her eyebrows. “Well, damn,” she mutters. “Let me guess. You broke up before it happened?”

You grimace as you recall what happened. “Close enough,” you answer with a bitter smile. “It was because of the trip that we got a huge fight in the first place.”

Skye tilts her head. “I’m not following.”

Sighing, you drink your smoothie to cool down and swallow the bitter feeling you are suddenly getting. Recounting the break-up isn’t so much fun to do. Not even after this long.

“I planned the entire thing on my own. Booked the flight and the hotel, and rearranged our schedules to fit each other so we could go on that exact date. But I never shared anything with him, except to confirm that it was a place that he also dreamt of going so we could both enjoy it together.” You let out a defeated sigh. “I wanted it to be a surprise. He used to love those in the past, so I figured it could be fun to celebrate our anniversary this way and get away from all the stress both of us had been getting.”

You stop talking for a moment to remember those days. Both you and Hansol had been so busy back then that you could barely spend time with each other.

It was the exact routine every day. Having long hours in the office and since you weren’t living together, you could only keep in contact with each other through texts and calls. By the time the two of you were able to see each other, all the stress had been piling up that you were almost always arguing and fighting instead of making up for all the time you missed while being apart.

“We were talking about moving in together but all of a sudden, we stopped discussing it and I could feel us growing further apart. I thought going away from all the stress for a while would help us get along and make up for all the fighting. Maybe we could have had a chance to talk things out and figure out what to fix.”

You stop with a soft sigh. “We were getting bored. With work, with life, and maybe we did get bored with each other but neither of us could open up about it, much less admit it. Not even to ourselves.”

Skye lets out a groan. “This is why I don’t do relationships,” she mutters before finishing her drink. The first glass. With the second one waiting on the table.

You give her a scoff, but smile at her comment before continuing, “He found out about the trip by chance. I was still logged in on his laptop after I borrowed it to check on my work email while I was staying over on the weekend. He accidentally opened the booking details when he was checking his email, thinking it was his account. He suspected me of planning to go with someone else, but even after I told him that the trip was for both of us, he wasn’t having it.”

Skye leans forward when she hears this. “Wait, he’s pissed about a secret vacation?” she asks, looking unhappy and confused at the same time. You can’t really blame her. Because that is exactly how you feel about your ex’s reaction. “Why would he be? If it had been me, I would’ve been ecstatic about going.”

“I wish I knew,” you groan, feeling just as frustrated as you had been then. “But he wasn’t just refusing to go. He started blaming me. Saying something about me holding him back or something. He said he had no time for a trip when he needed to be there and work for his promotion.”

Thinking back to that day, remembering about the fight and the things you said to each other, you are reminded of the moment the fight left your body. Because you knew then that there was nothing left to fight over.

“He never even brought up the fact that it was the date of our anniversary. I don’t think he even knew or remembered it,” you say with a bitter chuckle. “He broke it off, saying that he wanted to focus on his career and I would be keeping him behind. And I agreed because I knew that we’d wound up hurting each other if we’d stayed.”

“I can understand that,” Skye gently says. The two of you share a sad smile when your eyes meet. “And you still went on that trip,” she guesses, sounding proud. She lifts her glass to you and says, “Good girl.”

You merely shrug. “When I went to cancel the tickets for the trip, I thought it would be such a waste to throw everything away. So I decided that going solo would be a good idea and kept mine. Besides, I needed a moment to heal myself and get away from the city for a short while.”

She laughs, agreeing with you. Then, just as she is about to say something, she suddenly stops. A knowing look comes across her gaze and she slowly gasps. “Don’t tell me—” she says, “You met someone while you were there.”

You nod your head slowly and press your lips together. “Once again, you’re close. But that’s not exactly what happened.” Blowing out a deep breath, you slowly ask her, “Remember when I told you that I got held up for a day in transit?”

“Yeah, I was so jealous of you that I still remember everything you told me about that trip,” she lets out a dreamy sigh, then her gaze snaps back at you. “But, it seems to me that you haven’t told me everything about the trip.”

“No, I didn’t.” You grimace. “Anyway, that’s when I met him—”

The memories return to you again as you share with your roommate about your encounter with the beautiful stranger. You remember vividly the way he spoke, the deep and gentle voice that he spoke to you with, and his captivating smile that made you swoon. Everything about him that made it hard for you to leave and say goodbye to him.

You recount the way you enjoyed each other’s company that even after your terrible mood gradually became much better, and after you finished yet another drink, you simply couldn’t walk away and end the night with him so soon. You stayed longer, losing count of the time you spent with him and the drinks you had.

“And then, one thing led to another, it just happened.”

Skye’s eyes have grown so wide at this point, and her jaw has dropped in her surprise that she looks almost comical. “You hooked up with a stranger during your transit?” she asks you. The moment you nod your head, she switches her empty glass with the other. “I would drink to that.”

You laugh just as she takes a hefty drink as if celebrating on your behalf. “Why do you sound so proud of me?”

“Well,” she slowly starts, “We’ve known each other for so long. You have always been so put together, always followed the rules, and you are always so good at what you do. From school, to work, even the little things you have been doing on the side. But not when it comes to your sex life.”

You know that she is right about everything. But it doesn’t stop you from picking up a cushion and hitting her with it.

“Hey, you know I’m right,” she says while laughing and protecting the precious glass of wine. “Come on, you’ve never had any casual relationships or random hookups, and every chance I could have gotten to hook you up with my guy friends was gone when Hansol came into the picture.”

Pouting, you pull the cushion back and hold it tightly in your arms. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you admit with a sigh. “How do you get to know me so well?”

“That’s because I love you enough to pay attention,” she smugly says while waving her glass around, sloshing the wine everywhere. “Why do you think I’ve been so protective of you over the years?”

You roll your eyes and hit her with the cushion one last time, making her laugh, even though she is right. For as long as you have been friends with her, she has always been like an older sister to you. Not only for coming hard like a shield against the guys you ever introduced her to but also for the trivial things that not many people would pay much attention to.

Like reminding you to eat properly when you are stressed out or too busy with work and school.

You feel bad for relying on her so much over the years. But you also feel grateful about it. Just like how you’re feeling right now once you notice that you’re no longer feeling as stressed as you had earlier once you’re done dumping everything to her.

Skye’s eyes turn back to you, landing on your covered belly as she curiously asks, “Are you positively sure that Hansol wasn’t the father?”

You slowly nod your head. As much as you wish that you were wrong, you couldn’t have been mistaken about this.

“What are the odds that it was a false positive?” you suddenly question her, while she shrugs.

“It’s possible,” she says. “But we can get some more test kits and redo the test. Just in case. Or you could make an appointment with the doctor straight away to make sure.”

“Right, the doctor—” You let out a soft sigh and close your eyes briefly. It has been a while since you’ve seen your physician. The last time was before—

Oh, shit.

Your eyes snap open right then. How long ago has it been since you’ve gone to see your physician? The last time was when you went to your regular appointment for your birth control. But that felt so long ago.

Long before the trip.

After that appointment, and once the break-up happened, you simply threw yourself into work so much you completely forgot about everything else. And since you were newly single, getting your birth control was the last thing you had in mind at the time.

Fuck me, you inwardly groan without saying a thing to your roommate who is busy chattering about the doctor, making appointments, and offering to take you there herself. You know that she would lecture you about safe sex like a mother hen if you ever share this with her.

But wait…he wore a condom, right? Yes, you are quite sure he did. The details are blurry when you try to remember, but you do remember protection being involved.

Groaning to yourself, you fall back on the sofa. Your head starts spinning again when you start worrying about other things. Once you start thinking of a problem that you may have to face, another one comes to mind.

“What am I supposed to do with this baby?”

Skye once again raises her eyebrows at you. “I think the right question should be what do you want to do?” she asks, while you can only shake your head.

“I don’t know,” you answer with a small voice. The only thing you can think of right now is how you are going to get through this holiday while being pregnant. You are supposed to be home for Christmas in two weeks, and knowing just how crazy your family truly is, you cannot imagine how they would react if they found out you are with a child.

You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “And my family still have no idea that I broke up with Han.”

“For once, I’m not jealous of your life,” Skye says as she sips her wine. But she is ready for it when you fling the cushion back at her and avoid it without spilling her drink. “Don’t worry. I think they’ll catch on about your failed relationship as soon as you walk into your family home without that hunk by your side.”

Huffing, you hug the cushion in your arms and lean back. “I guess if they’re going to find out either way, I might as well just tell them the moment I got home.”

Besides, it might be even harder to hide the fact that you are pregnant. You might not be showing yet, but there is no possible way you could avoid the questions that may come if you are still feeling so sick right in front of your family, or if your cravings suddenly get out of hand.

Especially if Honey is there. Despite the early signs of dementia showing on her lately, your grandmother has always been so perceptive. And there is no telling what random things she may blurt out once she has some rum in her system.

With so many different things to think about, you almost forget one important matter that you should be thinking about when it comes to the baby. And just like always, Skye is there to remind you of it.

“Do you remember his name?”

You turn to Skye with wide eyes, suddenly panicking inside. You can tell that she can see it on your face and is now sharing the same feeling when she suddenly knocks back the rest of her wine and groans, “Fuck, I’m gonna need more.”

You watch her pour more wine into her glass, hastily drinking it right after, before turning to you again. “You didn’t get his name? At least tell me that you got his number before you went separate ways.”

You bite your lips. “It’s Tae.”

“Tae—what?”

You shake your head. “That’s it,” you let out a frustrated sigh. “That was the only name he ever gave me.”

“Seriously?”

Skye is freaking out, you can tell. But you close your eyes and rest your head back, shutting everything down as she starts ranting about how she was supposed to teach you better about hooking up with strangers and keeping yourself safe.

With her voice turning into white noise at the back of your mind, your memories return to you, taking you back to the eventful night.

You can almost feel yourself being back there again—back in the cold hotel bar with the scent of old wood and liquor lingering in the air; the murmuring sounds of people chatting and laughing, accompanied by the sound of glasses clinking together resonating through the space around you; back to his presence that felt so strong and intense you could barely feel anything else other than him as long as you had your attention fully on him.

“What’s your name?” You remember him asking you with his voice that grew more gentle and deeper the more he drank.

You leaned into him and giggled in response as if he just said something funny to you. “Does it really matter?”

His soft chuckle rumbled around you. The voice was so soft, yet you could hear it clearly because of how close you were leaning into him. “I’m sure I remember being taught not to talk to strangers.”

“Are you telling me that you’ve been a good boy for listening to what your Mom taught you?” you teased him. It was obvious how tipsy you were at this point, which may have been the reason why you were growing more confident.

“Oh, I’ve always been a good boy,” he answered you while looking amused. He went silent right after. His gaze seemed far away just for a fleeting moment before he finally said, “My name is Tae.”

“Tae? That’s it?” you asked, “Is that a codename or something?” You feigned a surprise gasp before you leaned into him further to whisper, “Are you secretly a spy?”

You felt his chest rumbling when he softly laughed. “Something like that, yeah,” he said, as he played along with your joke.

But the moment you leaned away from him, you were surprised when you got to see something in him that you couldn’t see before. His guard was down, allowing you to see the vulnerability that was buried deep under his suave and smooth talking.

For a brief moment, he looked broken. Just like you did.

And from the way he was hiding himself, not only under the short nickname but also from the way he was masking his emotions, you could tell that he was looking for an escape from reality. The same way you did that night.

So you simply smiled at him, choosing not to pry further to see beyond the mask and play along. Because at the same time, you wanted to hide your broken heart and become someone else to be able to forget everything. Just for one night.

“Then you can call me Red. It’s my special codename for tonight.”

His grin widened. You could almost see the relief washing over him through his warm gaze when he looked at you.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you tonight,” he said, still with his gentle voice that almost felt like sin licking on your skin when he called you, “Red.”

Two weeks later…

“Here you go,” your mother’s voice snaps you from whatever stupor you have been stuck in. When you open your eyes, a glass of ginger tea has manifested right before you.

“Drink this,” your Mom says as she points at the drink. “It should be good for your stomach.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. Furrowing your brows, you keep your eyes on the drink instead of reaching for it. Thoughts of those past mornings when you and Skye spent searching through the internet to find a way to get rid of your morning sickness come through your mind.

Does she know? Did she figure it out already? Is it really that obvious?

You clench your hands and resist the urge to rub against your stomach. It has become a habit of yours to rub around your belly as if trying to feel the baby that is hiding inside whenever you feel agitated.

After getting the positive results through the home test kits, you had gone straight to the doctor only days before you left the city to have it checked, confirming that a baby is growing inside you. It still feels unbelievable to think about it, even after you saw it yourself with your own eyes.

“It’s still really early, and we might not be seeing much yet, but that’s your baby,” the doctor’s voice echoes through your mind as you tighten your clenched hands, thinking back to the day you went to have an ultrasound and saw for the first time the growing fetus that was said to be viable to grow fully as a baby.

Just like how the baby inside you has been nothing more than a blob of mass floating inside your stomach in your mind, your belly itself has yet to change shape. Even if your full awareness of the baby’s presence has only been causing you to find small changes in your body that nobody else might be able to see.

But Mom has been pregnant before, so wouldn’t she be able to see it? Will that be possible?

“Ginger tea is good for nausea and will give you some energy boost. Your grandma always made it for me whenever I had a stomach ache. I’m sure it’ll help get rid of your nausea and your upset stomach will turn better in no time.” Your Mom stops talking and sighs. “You should’ve told me that you were sick. I wouldn’t have let you drive all the way home if I had known.”

Ah.

You breathe a sigh of relief. You should be thankful that she believed you when you told her about having an upset stomach from the long drive home from the city. It was the only thing that you could think of as an excuse when your Mom wondered why you hadn’t been eating well since you got back home and why you were feeling sick.

It makes you wonder why you have been feeling unwell since you got home. Just when you had purposely waited until you were well enough and had stopped throwing up when you planned for the drive.

It’s almost as if the baby is deliberately making you sick to let everyone know about your secret.

“Thanks, Mom,” you say to your Mom as you reach for the tea, hiding your relieved sigh as you gingerly drink in small sips.

You have lost count of how many times Skye has made you this drink specifically to stop you from vomiting in the morning before going to work. It has been helping a lot to ease your ‘sickness’, and you are feeling it calming your stomach already as the drink warms your body.

You can feel your mother’s eyes on you, making you feel uneasy to be under her watchful gaze. “I think it might be better if you get some rest and take things easy. But are you sure you’re okay?” your Mom asks again, still worrying about you.

You continue drinking the ginger tea slowly while pressing down your guilt. You hate lying to your Mom the most, and now you are starting to regret driving home on your own. If the baby hadn’t been the one responsible for your current sickness, then perhaps driving the long distance has been the reason why your nausea is now coming back with a vengeance.

So much for trying to not draw any suspicions.

“I’m fine, Mom. Really,” you sigh as you place the glass down. “The tea is helping me already. I’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

Your Mom says nothing for a moment, but the crease you see forming on her forehead says differently. “I’m not just talking about you being sick. Maybe there’s another reason why you’re feeling faint?”

You look up at her just then. The moment you catch the pitiful look she is giving you, you finally understand what she is trying to say.

Just as Skye predicted, it didn’t take long for your family to take notice of your solo arrival. In the past, Hansol would have joined you to visit your family for a day or two during the holidays before he would return to his family on Christmas day. So his absence was quite obvious from the get-go.

And with the big lie that you have to hide from everyone at home, you had to at least give them one honest truth the moment they started asking.

“We ended things a few months ago,” you admitted to your family during the first dinner you had since you got home. By that time, you had already tried to avoid the questions for long enough. Nobody has brought up about it again since then.

Until now.

“If you’re talking about the breakup, there’s nothing to worry about. I’m okay, Mom. It’s been months since it happened. I’ve been trying to move one.”

In fact, you haven’t been thinking about your ex at all for a long time. Not until you brought it up to Skye and then again when your family started questioning. The only thing you have been worrying about lately is the baby growing inside you and finding a way to search for the father of the baby.

It was the one thing that you talked about with Skye before you left. While you are capable enough to raise the baby on your own, you decided it would be the best course of action to contact the father and let him know.

In Skye’s own words, “Just in case.”

Just in case the father would care enough to know that he has a son or a daughter coming into this world and wants to be in their life.

“But if we fail to find him or he wants nothing to do with the baby, then we’ll deal with it on our own. You just got your promotion, I got my good pay. We can raise the baby together. You and me, just like old times.”

Skye’s words put a smile on your face. She always knows how to lift your spirit up whenever you feel like giving up, and those exact words have helped boost your confidence and made you believe that you could get through this.

But first, you just need to get through spending this holiday with your family.

“I know you said that. But as your Mom, I can’t help but worry. I thought you were serious and we’ll be hearing some good news about you getting married this year.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Sorry, Mom,” you tease her with a bitter chuckle. You don’t bother to mention that the two of you had never once talked about marriage throughout your relationship.

Yet another sign that you overlooked. At least you never got to waste anymore time with him.

“Things just didn’t work out between us. It happens when a couple grow into two different people in the course of their relationship. Which was exactly what happened to us. Hansol wanted to focus on his career, in return, I also got the chance to focus on mine.”

Just as you said the words, you realise that this is true for your case.

Hansol has always been career-driven, and it has been growing stronger lately for him with the constant rise he was experiencing in his current company. And breaking up with your long-time boyfriend has allowed you to turn your focus on your job. The recent promotion you gained was a testament to your hard work to show you that there might be a silver lining to everything that has happened.

“I suppose you’re right,” your Mom says with a smile. You are beginning to feel a bit relieved that she seems to understand. You are hoping that she would start talking about something else when she adds, “I just feel sad that it didn’t work out for you. And we were all expecting to have Hansol joining us again this year. I guess it’s too late now to let your sister know about this since she’s supposed to arrive today.”

Stepsister.

You lift your glass and slowly drink your tea to stop yourself from correcting her. For some reason, you feel a bit bitter having your mother mention her all so suddenly.

It isn’t that you hate your stepsister. It’s hard to feel something so extreme when you barely had any relationship with her at all. Back when you were younger, your mother did try to get you two to get along and be friends.

To make her happy, you tried your best to act friendly, or at least to be cordial whenever she was around, even when the only thing she showed you over the years had been nothing but contempt.

But things changed after a drunken fit that she had last holiday season, when she got drunk and tried to make a move and openly flirted with your then-boyfriend. Even if nothing ever came out of it except for her own embarrassment, as Hansol openly rejected her and stayed away from her for the remaining time he was here, the incident still left a bad taste that made you feel bitter.

That was when you finally decided that you would stop trying to be nice.

You put down the glass and try to remain calm. What’s done is done. All you have to do is focus on getting through this holiday before going back to the city and start with your mission to search for the baby’s father.

“What does Alia have to do with my break up?” you ask your mother, hoping that she wouldn’t bring up the drama from last year.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious, really,” your Mom answers with a soft chuckle, “It’s just that Alia called home sometime last week, asking if she could bring someone over this Christmas. She said that she’s been seeing someone new and since she was bringing him to meet her mother, she wondered if it would be okay if she could bring him along to meet us too.”

Your Mom sighs, looking a bit guilty when she adds, “We figured since you might bring Hansol with you, it would be okay if she has her new boyfriend along. Maybe the guys could get along and spend time together while you and Alia catch up.”

You try to imagine you and Alia catching up like old friends or—just like what your Mom has been wishing you to be—as sisters, and you almost shake your head.

Yeah, that seems unlikely, you bitterly wonder to yourself, yet you don’t have the heart to tell your mother that there is not much hope for you and Alia to be good friends.

“I guess it’s a shame that Hansol isn’t here,” you simply say to your mother while you inwardly wonder just what your stepsister is really up to this year.

“Yeah, it’s unfortunate,” your mother says with a sigh. “But I’m glad that at least both of you girls can make it home this year.”

“Me too, Mom,” you force a smile, silently hoping that you can start talking about something else. Something that doesn’t concern your bitter stepsister coming home or bringing up any dark thoughts about your ex. “So, what are we having for dinner? Want my help in the kitchen?”

Your question immediately puts everything into motion, drifting her attention away from your sappy story and the false hope of sisterhood that may never happen between you and your stepsister. Your Mom tries to stop you from helping out in the kitchen at first but finally gives in when you keep insisting.

At least, this way, you can keep your mind busy enough to stop it from thinking about unnecessary thoughts the way it often does when you are alone.

Things seem to be going on well enough at first, until your sickness returns and you have to give up trying.

”See, I told you that you should be resting until you feel better,” your mother complains as she watches you bending over, keeping away from the stove and what is currently cooking on top of it which seems to be making you feel dizzy and sick.

After garlic, lemon-scented air freshener, and coconut milk, seems you are going to have to add raw chicken to the list of things that may trigger your nausea.

“But then I’ll be bored like hell,” you argue, “I’m fine, Mom. Just let me take a quick break for a minute.”

Your mother looks as if she wants to say something, but the sound of a car coming into the driveway interrupts her. Both of you turn to look out towards the living room, just in time to see your stepfather, Cliff, turning in the corner of the hall and rushing towards the front door.

“Honey, they’re here!” he calls out, and you urge your mother to join him.

“Go, Mom. I’ll finish things up and make sure nothing gets burned before I join you guys.”

Once your mother is out of the kitchen, you can no longer resist pressing your palm on your stomach.

“Seriously, baby,” you whisper to the non-existent bump under your sweater, “Please take it easy, will you? I’m really struggling here, and you’re not making things easy for me. Trust me, it would be too soon for everyone to find out about you. At least wait until we can find a clue about your Dad, okay?”

As if the baby inside you is listening, even if it is still barely full-grown at this point, your body grows calmer and the nausea slowly wanes.

“Thank you, baby,” you whisper to your stomach once again before finally focusing on the stove and the oven, deliberately taking your time with what you do just so you can have a reason not to join the dramatic reunion happening right this minute.

From this side of the kitchen, the front door isn’t completely visible. But you can hear everything as the door opens and your stepfather joyfully welcomes his daughter.

Hearing his voice makes you smile. You may have had a tumultuous relationship with your stepsister, but the same cannot be said with your stepfather. Cliff has always been a great role model, and your relationship with him has always been great from the start.

It makes you feel guilty when you think about the previous encounters where you and your stepsister simply gave each other cold shoulders or when you were met with altercations just because of how different the two of you are. But there is no helping it. Nothing has changed over the years no matter how hard you tried. Not even once you have become adults.

You can’t even remember how it first started. And frankly, you no longer care. Last year’s incident was already enough to let you know that the sisterhood that your parents have been forcing you into was beyond saving.

The voices coming from the front door continue for a moment longer. This time, you get to hear your mother’s voice joining in the conversation and Alia’s soft voice answering her questions. You make no effort to listen to what they are saying and tune out their voices, until your mother’s voice calls out to you.

“______, your sister is here. Come and say hi.”

Your mother’s words make you stop. Slowly, you turn down the heat on the stove and turn to make your way towards the front door to join the family reunion.

“It’s stepsister,” you mutter under your breath as you drag your feet, taking your sweet time while you try to compose yourself before having to face the unwanted guests.

As you turn around the corner, merely moments before the front door finally comes into view, you get to hear another voice speaking. The voice that you couldn’t clearly hear from the kitchen while you were tuning their conversation out.

“I’m sorry for intruding. But thank you for having me here.”

That voice.

You immediately come to a halt. An uneasy feeling runs through your body when you realise that you recognise this voice and have grown to know it quite well.

There is no mistaking it. You may not have gotten his full name on the night you met, and his face has somewhat become a faint mirage in your dreams at night whenever you are taken back to the night of your hookup.

But you cannot say the same about his voice.

That deep and gentle voice will always be engraved in your memory. Even now, the only thing you would need to do is close your eyes and listen, and allow the voice to take you back to that specific night once more, where he used this voice to say sinful words that you could feel caressing your fragile heart while he was bringing you to the peak of pleasure.

And now you are hearing that voice here, at your home, idly chatting with your mother by the front door.

“_______, are you coming?” your mother calls again, and you know that there is no avoiding it. You have to face reality, even if that means you must come face to face with the man who is responsible for placing you in this situation.

Tamping down the rush of nerves going through your body, you slowly march ahead. Bracing yourself as you turn around the corner and enter the living room where everyone is currently gathering in.

Your eyes fall on your stepsister first.

Alia has always looked so vibrant and beautiful, drawing all kinds of attention from everyone in the room whenever she is present. Yet when you look at her now, there seems to be a new kind of light emerging from her. Even her smile seems brighter as she chats along with your stepfather.

And you soon realise the reason why she is shining brightly today as you turn your gaze to look at the person standing beside her. To finally see him.

He looks just like how you remember him. Tall and lean, with his arms and chest filling up his sweater. He has his hair falling over a part of his face, just enough of a mess that seems as if he has been running his fingers through the wavy strands. As he converses with your mother, he shows his boxy grin that seems familiar to your eyes.

Too familiar.

Because it looks just the same as the wide grin that was teasing and flirting with you on one eventful night at the transit hotel weeks ago.

No. That can’t be.

The baby’s daddy is here. The man who you were planning to look for once you return to the city.

He is here, today, appearing at the front door of your parents’ home together with your stepsister. His long fingers that had once entangled between the strands of your hair are now entwined with your stepsister’s dainty fingers. And there is no mistaking the matching couple rings that are glowing under the sunlight coming from their entwined hands.

Before you get the chance to process what is happening, you hear him introducing himself to your stepfather, “It’s good to see you, Sir. My name is Taehyung.”

No.

You stifle a gasp. It feels like you have been sucker-punched right in the chest that you can barely breathe.

Taehyung, you wonder. Tae?

All of a sudden, you feel as if the ground beneath your feet is tilting over, slowly taking you down with it. And since you seem to have lost the ability to move your feet, the only thing you can do to stop yourself from falling is to clench your hands tightly by your side. Tight enough to feel pain as your nails are sinking into your palms, convincing you that this is not a dream.

Yet you are still in denial as you watch the interaction happening right before your eyes. Because there is no way this is happening. There is no possible way that it is truly him.

Please. Please don’t let it be him.

It must have been your mind playing tricks on you. Because there is no way that he is here. Not as your stepsister’s new boyfriend.

This must be a mistake. Yes, you are probably confused and all the thoughts of finding your baby daddy are messing up with your head, forcing you to believe that your stepsister’s new boyfriend is your mysterious baby daddy. The fact that they have the same name must have been pure coincidence.

For once in your life, you don’t want to be right. You have to be wrong.

Please tell me that it’s not him.

Just then, as if life was listening to your prayers, as if life has yet to have enough of its games to play around with your heart, the man turns his gaze away from your parents. And those pretty eyes land on you.

As if there is a switch turned, the brightness in his gaze fades. His beautiful eyes are filled with recognition. It is so subtle that you are quite sure that nobody else around you notices it, but it is enough to let you know that your memories have been right all along.

Because those are the same eyes that you saw looking back at you with pure lust and sin while he was bringing you wanton pleasure, when you made love as if both of you had been under a spell, right on the very night that may have changed your fate forever.

Fuck.

Me.

At one glance, this moment would seem like any other pre-holiday family dinner. It may seem picture perfect, even—if you had been a stranger looking in.

There are still a couple of days left until Christmas Day, yet the festive mood has already filled the room. From the living room, all the way to the dining room, Christmas decorations are already plastered across the walls and hung from the ceiling. On the dining table, the delectable meal that your mother worked hard to prepare—with your poor assistance—had been perfectly laid out.

With Alia’s arrival today, the immediate family is now complete. Ever the charming daughter, Alia takes up the attention of everyone around her as she shares her story—about how she has been travelling between different states and some neighbouring countries, changing jobs, finding new hobbies, and even planning to adopt a new pet.

Sitting at the head of the table, your stepfather is soaking it all in, enjoying the time he has with his daughter whom he rarely gets to see throughout the year. Your mother sits on his right, getting the front seat of their merry reunion. She would sometimes chime in, never failing to try to get you into joining their idle chat even when you are not feeling up to it.

Other times, you would have been able to easily play along. From making cordial comments and joining with all the light jokes shared by your family, or feigning interest in anything that Alia might be sharing at the table—even when she rarely would share the same courtesy when you did the same.

Tonight, however, it feels like a struggle for you to focus on the conversation shared at the table, let alone pretend to be interested. Not when you are busy trying your best to calm your nerves.

You can't even embrace the same warm atmosphere that everyone seems to be sharing.

For you, the air around feels stifling and tense. It has been this way ever since you sat down right next to your mother for dinner. Because due to the seating arrangement, the special guest of the night is now sitting right across from you at the table.

Taehyung.

The last person that you had ever expected to see. Not here. Certainly not at your home or sharing the same space with your parents.

It seems surreal to meet him here like this. Even more so when he was introduced to your family as Alia’s new boyfriend.

Judging from the way he reacted when he first saw you, you can tell that he never expected something like this could ever happen. You know that he has questions, perhaps just as much as you do, yet the situation that you found yourself in right now isn’t allowing you to even show any sign that the two of you know each other or to have met before today.

But there is something in the way he is looking at you that doesn’t sit right with you. Aside from the lingering shock you see each time your eyes accidentally meet each other, there is a look that shows a semblance of guilt, despair, and at the same time, filled with wonder.

Was it because he never expected to see you again after that night, much less to find out that you are somehow related to the woman that he is dating? Or was there something else going through his mind?

“This is Alia’s sister, ______,” was what your mother said when she first introduced you to him. At that point, you and Taehyung were stunned to silence, and for a brief moment, neither of you reacted.

Thinking about it now, you can’t even remember how you managed to join your family in the living room. The moment you saw Taehyung standing there, your legs nearly gave out. It was a wonder how you managed to stop yourself from falling or tripping as you walked over to them in a state of distraught.

“Hi, it’s good to see you,” was all that you managed to croak out of once you snapped out of it. You didn’t even give him a chance to respond when you suddenly turned your attention to your stepsister, forcing a smile on your face when you greeted her, “Hey, Alia. It’s good to see you. You seem well.”

You can’t even remember the expression that Alia gave you when she responded to you, “Uh yeah, thanks. You too.”

“Right. Well, I’ll let you guys settle in. I left the stove on, so—”

That was the last thing you said before you turned away and quickly left the room, practically running away from him to hide back in the kitchen. The last thing you heard as you walked away was your mother’s voice saying something about you being her assistant of the day in the kitchen while you were feeling unwell, as if excusing you for your unmannerly attitude.

By the time you got back in the kitchen, your hands were shaking, your heartbeat was racing so fast you could barely breathe. It took a long time for the shock to wane, and you had spent the rest of the day staying away from both of them, avoiding him entirely until you were finally called to join dinner.

And you are still avoiding him even now, keeping your head down as much as you can and resisting the urge to look his way. As if it isn’t hard enough for you to have him sitting right in front of you, you can feel the heat of his gaze constantly following you whenever you are not looking.

He doesn’t make it so obvious, and it doesn’t seem like anyone else has noticed it yet. Perhaps you are just too hyperaware of his presence that you caught on to it so easily.

You sneak a glance at your stepsister, wondering if Alia has taken notice of her boyfriend’s wandering gaze or where he has been directing his eyes. It takes you watching the conversation between her and your parents more closely to see it.

Because it turns out that she also has her own gaze wandering to questionable places at the same time that she isn’t paying much attention to her boyfriend.

Each time Alia turns to regard your mother or speak to her, her gaze flickers away briefly, ever so subtly landing on the seat to your right. At the seat that Hansol would usually occupy whenever he joined you during these holiday visits.

It is easy to catch it when you are seeing it from your angle. And it is easy to guess what is going through her head when she keeps doing it with a curious look written all over her face. An unspoken question seems to linger, while the incident from last year keeps flashing through your head when you picture Hansol being present beside you.

Even if nobody notices her intention, you doubt that anyone would question her about it, seeing that the seat that was supposed to be left empty has been taken by someone else.

While you are busy trying to make sense out of everything, your grandmother makes a disapproval noise with her tongue, grabbing your attention. “Are you still feeling under the weather? You’ve been drinking that boring thing the whole day,” she says, referring to the glass of iced tea that you have just put down after taking a drink from it to cool down.

You turn to look at your dear grandmother, Honey, and smile at her. She probably hasn’t realised what a saving grace she has been for taking the unoccupied seat to your right the minute she came in for dinner.

And she is now helping you again by drawing your attention away from the source of your dismay. Immediately, you feel better the moment you are met with Honey’s smile.

“I’m feeling much better, actually. I’m just being careful not to drink anything that might get me sick,” you answer carefully, hoping to sound reasonable enough without making anyone question your ‘sickness’ any further.

The more you lie to your family about it, the more guilty you feel. You don’t have much choice at the moment but to hide it just a bit longer.

At first, you couldn’t share the news with your parents simply because you were still clueless about how you were going to find the father of the baby with only limited information you had of him. But then things only got even more complicated for you to ever come clean when he walked through the front door of your parents’ home.

What are the odds that the man you hooked up with turns out to be the man your stepsister is currently dating? And here you are now, stuck in the same room with them while hiding a secret which may change the course of everyone’s entire life.

Yeah, miracles don’t exist. Not for me, at least.

Honey taps at your hand on the table as you grow silent, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head. “You know what you need?” she asks, whispering in a conspiring tone that she barely keeps down so that everyone at the table can still hear her voice.

And she does it while looking at you with her wide, expecting eyes, with the barely concealed mischief written all over her face. It makes you smile, knowing where this is going. So you simply play along.

"No, Honey. What would that be?”

Her mischievous smile widens as she leans closer. “A hint of rum. With a few drops into that boring tea of yours, you’ll feel better in no time,” she says, lifting her hand and showing you a pinching gesture with her thumb and forefinger nearly touching each other, “Just a pinch. Or better yet, just trade your whole glass—”

The sound of your Mom’s frustrated sigh cuts her off. “Mom, I already told you, giving her alcohol isn’t going to make her feel better. I’ve already given her some herbal tea, that should be enough until she can get a proper rest.”

“Oh, posh,” Honey says, waving her hand at your mother. “Ignore your Mom,” Honey says just as you are about to respond. “I’m telling you. Alcohol is best to cure your heartbreak,” she adds, and you certainly have no arguments against that. Alcohol might be able to help you forget.

But, alas…

But, wait a minute. You stop and look closely at Honey. What is she talking about?

“What do you mean?” you question her while tilting your head, wondering deep down if she had noticed something. Surely, she wouldn’t be able to tell the high tension rolling between you and Taehyung through dinner.

Nobody else could. But you also know that if there is anyone in your family who might be able to catch on with the tension rolling between the two of you, it would be Honey.

Once again, Honey reaches out and taps her dainty fingers on the back of your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re feeling down, peaches? I know you’re still thinking about that good for nothing—”

Honey stops herself and bites down her smile before you can figure out what she is about to say. But you have heard enough to understand who she is referring to.

Relief washes over you when you realise that she was talking about your ex, Hansol. She must have thought that you have been stressing over the breakup and you have been feeling unwell because of it.

Honey leans in, this time lowering her voice just enough only for you to hear. “You must’ve taken it from me. I also get a stomach bug when I’m stressed out. Just like last summer when I lost a go-stop game against the ladies from the block,” she says, before she continues blabbering about how she had made bets during the game and went all-in only to lose everything.

“You might think that they’re nothing but small pennies used for gambling coins, but I spent a whole week collecting them. How am I supposed to replace all of them before the next game?” she continues to complain, while you laugh at her.

Her story takes away the tension on your shoulders for a brief moment before she adds, “And then you had to come here and watch these two being all lovey-dovey with each other.”

As Honey mentions the pair sitting across the table, waving her hand at them to make a point, your eyes are drawn towards them once more. And your gaze lands right on Alia’s hand which is now resting on top of Taehyung’s.

Seeing this makes you feel tight in the chest. Bitterness fills your mouth which you can barely hide with a tight smile. Honey may not have been entirely correct with her assumptions, yet her comment still hits the mark somehow.

Not about Hansol, obviously, as he is the one to occupy your mind the least. Yet she wasn’t too far off when she talked about the new pair of lovers before you. Seeing them does make you uncomfortable, miserable even, but for entirely different reasons.

Looking away from their joined hands, your gaze meets Alia’s. She is wearing an unreadable expression on her face as she listens in to Honey’s words. And the strange look that she is giving you now is making you feel uneasy.

Just as you start wondering if Alia has noticed something, she instead asks you, “You guys broke up?”

She throws a quick glance at Honey’s seat with a frown. For others, she might seem concerned, yet there is a look in her eyes which tells you that there is something more. “I was wondering why I haven’t seen him around. He was with us last holiday.”

Her comment rubs you in the wrong way. You have no idea why she would care when your relationship has nothing to do with her. But you try to not let it bother you. “Yes, it’s been months now since we broke up. I only told Mom and Dad yesterday when I first got home.”

“I see,” she says. Her voice comes out so softly that it almost comes out as a murmur. She pulls her hand back and places it on her lap. “That’s too bad. I’m sorry,” she adds while offering a small smile. And for some reason, she also seems guilty.

Does she think it has something to do with what happened last year?

Her words remind you of something that she said to you last year, back on the morning you confronted her after her drunken blunder which happened the night before.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking. I didn’t mean anything, I swear. It’s just drunk talking.”

That incident shouldn’t be bothering you today. Yet it still makes you feel bitter when you think about it. The feeling only grows worse when you glance at Taehyung who is showing a sudden interest in this whole thing.

“It’s fine. Sometimes things just don’t work out,” you simply repeat the same thing you said to your mother earlier while biting back the real question that is hanging right at the tip of your tongue.

But what’s in it to you?

No matter how curious you are to know what kind of scheme that is going through her pretty little head, you know it’s not worth all the drama that it might cause. You cannot even possibly imagine the drama that would unfold once this whole baby thing comes out.

God, just thinking about it is already making your stomach churn. Your lower abdomen suddenly feels hard and heavy. As if you have a full-size lead inside instead of a small, growing blob that is about to form into an actual living baby within a few weeks from now.

Thinking about the baby, your eyes find the man who is behind all of this. He has grown oddly quiet while you were conversing with your stepsister and is now staring at his food with a frown on his face.

“So tell me,” you ask calmly while clenching your hands, doing your best to hide the trembles, “How did you two meet?”

This question immediately draws Taehyung’s attention. His eyes snap up, but the moment he looks at you, his face seems to grow pale and he becomes awfully nervous.

“We, uh—we used to work at the same company before Alia left to venture into other things,” he says, almost stuttering. He also keeps stealing glances at Alia, as if begging her to help him out.

Huh, strange.

What is it about answering your simple question which makes him so nervous?

Or perhaps…

Have they been seeing each other when the two of you hooked up?

Fuck.

The moment this thought crosses your mind, you suddenly feel sick. Your stomach grows heavier with anxiety. Meanwhile, Alia’s smile seems to beam brighter.

“We didn’t work in the same division back then, but we would frequently meet during breaks and company hours. Had it been, what, a year after we last met?” Alia turns to Taehyung, who stiffly nods his head. She grabs his hand once again and looks at him lovingly as she continues, “We met again last summer by chance while I was travelling and started talking since then.”

Last summer? But that was before—

Your head starts spinning. You grab your glass and take a couple of small sips of your tea to regain composure, yet the drink suddenly tastes bitter on your tongue.

Honey’s voice barely registers in your brain when she responds with a hum. “Travelling in the summer? That sounds like a charming way to meet a new lover,” she says, lifting her mug to her lips as she continues marvelling at your stepsister’s story. “You must have felt some sparks when you two met. I bet you’re still feeling it now, aren’t you?”

You have no idea what she has inside that ceramic mug, as she had been nursing the same drink since even before dinner started. You can bet money that she had more than a pinch of rum dropped inside that drink of hers, seeing how talkative she is becoming.

Oh, how you wish you could have a taste of it. Just a sip would have been good enough. Maybe it can also help to stop your hands from trembling.

“And the ring?” Honey asks again with a teasing tone as she points at their entwined hands. “I noticed that you two are wearing matching rings. You can’t possibly be engaged already, can you?”

Almost choking on your drink, you slowly set your glass back down and pull your hands onto your lap, hiding them from prying eyes just in time as they begin to shake.

“But it wasn’t that different back in the day,” Honey continues, “I remember that Russ—that’s my dear late husband,” she explains to Taehyung, “he bought me a cheap ring at the beginning of our relationship to show me and my parents that he was serious about courting me.”

On any other times that Honey would speak about your late grandfather, you would always enjoy listening to every word, admiring how she would always share her story with pure love in her voice and wonder glowing in her eyes.

But not this time.

Ever since she pointed out the ring and started talking about your grandfather’s old promises, you start having trouble breathing. The more she speaks, the worse it gets, and now there is a ringing sound echoing in your ear that seems to be coming from different directions.

“I still keep the ring with me, side by side with the wedding ring that doesn’t fit anymore on these wrinkly fingers of mine,” Honey keeps gushing. She raises her hands and starts wiggling her fingers to show them off, while your whole body grows tense.

Alia shares a nervous laugh with Taehyung and waves her hand at Honey. “Oh, no…it’s actually a part of a joke that we—”

You try to tune out the voices, the words that are being said, while clasping your hands tighter together on your lap, but the shaking doesn’t stop. Alia’s voice fades in and out beyond the loud ringing in your head as she continues to tell her story about how they started dating and the ring came to be. With everything that is going on, added with your awareness over Taehyung’s intense gaze that doesn’t seem to waver, it becomes too overwhelming that you feel as if you are slowly being swallowed into the ground beneath you.

With a sharp gasp, you slowly push yourself out of your seat. “Excuse me, I have to—” your voice cracks as you speak. As you stand, you notice that everyone has their eyes on you, all curious to know what is happening with you.

“_______?” you hear your mother calling you.

You can feel the blood draining from your face under all the unwanted attention, making you wish that you could just fade away right at that moment. But then your hand find its way to your stomach, and it almost feels like there is a touch of warmth forming under your palm. It helps you force a smile and gather yourself just enough to say, “I’m sorry, but I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to step out early. I hope that’s alright. You guys enjoy the rest of dinner.”

You don’t wait for anyone’s response as you turn away, finding your escape merely moments before you get into a full-blown meltdown right in front of everyone.

Your legs are wobbly as you walk down the hall, yet you still manage to slip into the guest bathroom downstairs. With trembling hands, you lock the door behind you, shutting yourself from the world outside.

And that is when you fall apart, turning into a heaving mess as everything that you have been bottling up inside comes flooding out of you.

“Breathe,” you command yourself while you fight back against your nausea. Holding onto the bathroom counter, you keep yourself and try your best to focus on controlling your breath.

Take a slow, deep breath. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

Little by little, all the tension, the trembling, and the tightness in your chest begin to wane. But once everything is gone, once you begin to find calmness, your emotions seize control of you.

The next thing you know, an unstoppable flow of tears comes running down your face and you start sobbing, crying in defeat.

“Shit. Fuck. What a mess,” you curse between each sob, feeling absolutely helpless and alone. You close your eyes, hoping that you can clear your head by doing so. Yet your mind keeps going to dark places. Constantly wondering and questioning about all of this.

About him.

“Did he ever mention anything that was related to his personal life that night?” you cannot help but wonder out loud.

Only silence answers. Because you hold little to no recollection of the details from the conversation you shared with him that night. Whenever you try to remember, it always feels like there was a part of your memory that had gone missing.

You haven’t had the slightest clue of the things you shared with him at the bar once the drinks started coming more frequently. Which is a wonder, because you are completely sure that neither of you had gotten drunk enough to experience a blackout, much less lose a memory.

At least for you, the alcohol was just enough to burn through your nerves and help build your confidence to take the lead and openly show the attraction you had for him. Even if he did end up taking back control the moment the two of you finally gave in to temptation.

Your head starts pounding, aching the more you try to remember the missing details. Meanwhile, all the questions won’t stop coming, making it harder for you to regain a peaceful mind.

Did he ever mention having a girlfriend, or at least give any hint that he was taken?

Was he wearing that ring on his finger when he was touching your skin under the dim light of his bedroom suite?

You shake your head and close your eyes again when you still remember nothing. The only thing that remains in your memory is the look you saw in his gaze that night. The pitiful look that seemed to mirror yours, making you believe that he was looking for the same thing you did that night.

An escape. A way to forget even if for a moment.

But what if that was all just another lie?

Your stomach churns. A sharp pain comes shooting through your body. It starts from your lower abdomen, causing you to almost double over.

Fuck. Now what?

Your hand instantly comes down to your stomach, pressing and rubbing gently against it until the uncomfortable ache ebbs under your touch.

Right, I’m supposed to avoid any form of stress, you remind yourself as you recall what your doctor told you the last time you went to see her. Something about getting your blood tension rising when you are stressed, and that it wouldn’t be good for both you and the baby in the long run. Closing your eyes, you try to think of happy thoughts, all while keeping your palm pressed on your stomach.

To your surprise, rubbing your palm against the barely-there baby bump on your belly isn’t just helping you to soothe the pain away, but also to calm yourself down.

With a sigh, you gently wipe your tears and look down. “I’m sorry for swearing so much, baby. I promise to stop doing it once you’ve grown big enough to start hearing things so you won’t learn any of it too soon. But fuck, this is too much.”

It feels odd to speak like this to the living being growing inside you that is barely more than a piece of flesh. Yet speaking to your growing baby seems to help ease your anxiety a little.

Better yet, it helps make you feel less alone.

“Let’s not think any bad thoughts. Let’s not assume that your Dad is an asshole, okay? Not until we get to hear the full story,” you whisper to the tiny human growing inside you. The more you speak to it, the more it seems to be helping you to find some ease of mind.

But even if it turns out that he was…

“Then I can deal with it later with my head held high,” you murmur to yourself in a soft, yet reassuring tone of voice. And you repeat it again, and again, almost as if you are chanting a spell which would be able to give you a boost of confidence.

It may not immediately change the way you look at things, yet you can feel it slowly rising within you. It feels like a ray of light, the first spark of hope that you get to feel amid all the uncertainty which surrounds you.

Soon enough, the strong urge to cry no longer overcomes you. Even your hands have stopped shaking. All that you have left is exhaustion. It rolls through your body with a vengeance, and there is nothing that you want more right now other than to curl up like a ball on your bed and sleep it off.

You raise your head to look at yourself in the mirror, and instantly a bitter laugh escapes you at what you are seeing.

Because you look like a complete mess. Your life is slowly turning into shambles, and it seems to be mocking you through your own reflection that is now staring back at you.

“Just exactly what I need,” you whisper with a sigh.

I need to be stronger, if only for the sake of this little one in me, you tell yourself as you splash cold water at your face to wash away all the mess—the drying tears, your swollen eyes, and the skin on your face which has yet to regain its normal colours.

It feels therapeutic to be washing everything off, leaving nothing more but your swollen eyes which you can explain as a part of your sickness. You may not be strong enough to take on the world, but at least now, you are prepared to face the reality that is waiting for you right outside of this door.

No matter how fucking messy it is.

Having this new revelation should be giving you a newfound credence that could push you forward. And yet there is none of that here. The only thing you are feeling now is the new bout of anxiety rolling up through your body, starting from your stomach as it churns painfully.

“Yeah, now I feel sick,” you groan as you rush to the toilet bowl, seconds away before you start dumping the small amount of food you had during dinner into waste.

It takes a bit longer than expected before you finally find the courage to step out of the bathroom.

Soft murmurs filter into the bathroom the moment you open the door. You can tell that the voices are coming from the living room, which means that the family has gathered there after dinner. It allows you to breathe a sigh of relief. At least this way you wouldn’t have to hide or make excuses if you have to bump into someone on your way to your bedroom.

Stepping out of the bathroom, you are relieved that nobody is around. Everyone should be in the living room, so you make haste, hoping to be able to escape before anyone notices.

But as you turn to the next hallway, someone is standing in your way. The light is dim, yet you can easily recognise him before you get any closer. Standing with his back leaning against the wall, he has his hands tucked into his pockets and his eyes looking absently into the distance.

As though he has been waiting for you.

Taehyung turns when he notices you coming. Before you can start to wonder what he is doing here, a smile grows on his face.

“Hey, is everything okay? Everyone was worried,” he asks you, sounding genuinely concerned.

The calm tone of his voice might be a bit deceiving if only you are not looking into his eyes. His gaze keeps wavering as he speaks, as if he is unable to look at you for too long. The same guilt you saw earlier is still present in his eyes. And you hate seeing it there.

It only tells you that he has a secret that he is keeping from you. You have no idea how to feel about it. But if it has to do with his relationship with Alia, then—

“I’m fine, it’s just—”

Your cheeks grow warm the moment you speak, feeling embarrassed at how dry your voice sounds. “It’s nothing. You heard my Mom, I’ll be better in no time.”

You have so many things to say to him. So many questions that you would like to give him. But you are too tired to do anything. Much less to talk. As much as you can convince yourself that you are ready to face anything, now is not the right time to do it.

So you keep your mouth shut and try to walk past him instead. Only that he isn’t letting you go that easily.

“You know, it really is nice to see you again, Red.”

His voice sounds so subdued that you almost miss it. You come to a halt. Your heartbeat starts picking up again. If you ever needed confirmation that the sinful night you shared with him truly happened, and that he remembered any part of it, then this is it.

His comment which instantly brings you back to that fateful night. The nickname that he used to call you then.

You close your eyes, refusing to remember the way he managed to draw out a myriad of sensations with his voice alone. You refuse to be brought back there again. Not now, when your mind isn’t clear enough to be dealing with this. Taking a deep breath, you compose yourself just enough to face him.

Only to be met with his amused smile as he looks at you.

“I was surprised to see you. I never would have thought that you could somehow be related to Alia.” He lets out a chuckle. It sounds empty and a bit bitter, mirroring exactly how you are feeling right now.

Your chest feels tight, hating the way he is saying her name. Nor do you enjoy seeing the way his gaze changes when he does it. Annoyance fills your chest that you can barely speak, while he remains in his blissful ignorance as he continues talking,

“Funny how life works, doesn’t it? I kept thinking about you after we met and wondered if we would ever see each other again. I regretted that I didn’t ask for your number before we parted ways. I didn’t even get to ask for your real name.”

The tightness in your chest grows tenfold.

You never admitted it before—not to yourself, and not even to Skye, when you first talked about him—yet there was some point between that night and the day you found out about the pregnancy that you spent your nights wondering if you would ever see him again.

If there had been one thing that you regretted about that night, it would be the decision you made to leave the next morning without asking for his real name or leaving any means of contact.

A night to escape from reality.

That was all it meant for you at the time. So when the morning came, it was time for you to return to reality. Your reality. Your real life. And you were too busy preparing yourself to face all the hurt, the bad memories, and the stressful life that had nothing to do with the desirable woman that he brought into his bed the night before to even consider exchanging contacts with him.

It didn’t matter if you were still riding the high of that night’s self-gratification and wanton pleasure through the rest of your trip. The moment everything ended, you simply moved on from it. Putting everything about that night to the back of your mind as you returned to your normal life and quickly fell back into your normal routine.

Until weeks later, when life decided to fuck you over and you ended up with a baby growing inside you, and you had no way to find or contact him to inform him about it.

“I guess it can’t be helped, given the circumstances.” Your conviction quickly melts into dread once you are reminded of the current circumstances. “It’s kinda too late now to talk about it and regret what didn’t happen, don’t you think? Seeing that you’re now dating my stepsister.”

Taehyung winces. For a brief moment, you almost believe you can see a glimpse of hurt flickering through his gaze. And for some reason, it only pisses you off.

So he doesn’t like being reminded of the fact that he is here for someone else?

“Look, about Alia. I was hoping that we could talk. Maybe when all of this is done, or maybe after the holidays we can—”

He continues talking, but you aren’t hearing anything. The questions that flooded your brain earlier come flashing back. The ringing that pained you returns. Everything lasts for a few more seconds before your mind clears out, and only one question remains.

“Were the two of you already dating when we slept together?”

He falls silent, taken aback.

“No!” he immediately says, almost shouting. But he quickly reins himself before his voice would reach where everyone is and draw their attention. “Fuck, no. Is that why you’ve been sulking all through dinner?” he asks you with a hiss. He seems offended and hurt at the same time. “I’m not that kind of guy. Trust me.”

“Sulking?” you let out an incredulous laugh. Is that how he saw it? When you were coming close to breaking apart right in front of everyone because of him?

“How am I supposed to trust you when I barely know you? How am I supposed to know that you’re telling the truth?” you snap back at him with a hiss. “Just because we fucked it doesn’t mean that I’d magically know everything about you.”

Again, he winces at your question. As if your words come to him like a slap on his face. He takes a deep breath and speaks more calmly in response, “Look, we should talk. Soon. I can explain everything. But not now, okay?”

As much as you hate to admit it, or to agree with him, you decide that he is right. There are a lot of things that you need to discuss with him, and now is not the right time to do it. Not when your emotions are all over the place and when he has his girlfriend keeping him in close sight most of the time.

“I agree. We do need to talk,” you finally agree, even though you know that both of you have different things in mind.

You have no idea what he intends to discuss with you. The only thing that matters to you is to talk about the baby that you conceived together. And hopefully, decide what will happen next.

“I should go,” you sigh, feeling exhausted and drained. “I need to lie down. This is too much for me to process.”

You try to walk around him so you can continue on your way. Your head is pounding, and you have the dire need to rest in your comfortable bed, where you would be able to feel safe and hide away from all of this.

“Wait,” Taehyung stops you before you can go too far.

“What?” you ask him, feeling exasperated—both from the stress and from the way your body still tingles each time you hear his voice. You really need to get away from him.

“Nothing, it’s just…” he starts, suddenly looking nervous with what he is about to say. The sound of laughter echoes from the living room, making him glance over his shoulder briefly before speaking to you with a lowered voice, “Can you do me a favour?”

You frown at him. “What is it?”

He looks wary, and it makes you feel uneasy in the stomach as you wait for him to speak.

But what he says next makes you feel even worse. “Please don’t tell Alia that we’ve met before, more importantly that we hooked up that night.”

You say nothing at first. Even if you are well aware of the situation and where Alia’s position in all of this, it still doesn’t stop the sharp pain you feel in your chest as he mentions her name, or to express his request.

Taehyung steps closer when you remain quiet. His voice comes as a desperate whisper when he pleads with you, “Please? Can you do this for me?”

You grit your teeth. “Fine, I won’t,” you finally say to him. But you refuse to give in that easily.

Taking a step closer to him, you point at him and demand him, “But you need to tell her.”

He clenches his jaw as he listens to your demands, but you ignore it and continue to talk. “She needs to know—” your voice nearly wavers, because you know what would happen once everything is revealed.

Telling your stepsister that you had slept with her boyfriend would not only be hard, but it would be ugly.

But it would be better than keeping it a secret for much longer. Because secrets don’t always remain hidden, no matter how hard you try to keep them in the shadows. And things would even get messier once the baby comes while she is still being kept in the dark.

It’s better to bite the bullet as soon as possible, rather than waiting and living your life in uncertainty until the day comes.

“If you don’t, and we keep this a secret much longer, things might get messier if she somehow finds out on her own. The last thing I’d ever want is to get into any drama. Not with her,” you try to convince Taehyung, despite him looking like he would rather bolt and have nothing to do with any of this.

After all the drama that happened last year, the last thing you need is to get involved in another.

“I’ll tell her myself if necessary.” There is a bite in your voice when you are telling him all of this. To his credit, Taehyung—despite looking shell-shocked and cornered—seems to respect and understand your request.

He lowers his head and nods. “Give me time. I’ll—”

You are surprised to see him looking defeated. It makes you wonder if there is something more about their relationship that you need to know before going further.

As Taehyung raises his head again, he seems more resolved. He looks straight into your eyes as he promises, “I’ll tell her myself once I get the chance to. I promise. But we’re going to have that talk first, and soon.”

“It’s a promise.” You bite back the ache that suddenly pierces through your heart, seeing how he is so adamant about protecting his relationship with your stepsister. Trying not to look too deep into it and get yourself hurt further, you avoid looking into his gaze and start walking away from him.

“Goodnight then—” you whisper to him as you turn away from him, biting back the sound of your defeat when you call his name, “Tae.”

The moment you are within the safety of your bedroom, your knees buckle. Thankfully, you still manage to close the door and lock it behind you, once again shutting yourself from everyone to give you some moment of peace.

Although it doesn’t stop him from entering your mind in the silence that follows.

As you lie down in your bed, curled up in a fetal position with your arms wrapped around yourself, your mind wanders back to the conversation you just had with Taehyung in the hallway.

You can’t help it. His words keep coming back to you, and you keep finding yourself dissecting everything he said. You close your eyes, and keep telling yourself to stop. The situation that you are dealing with right now already seems absurd enough for you to waste your energy trying to understand him.

You begin to wonder if things would have been better if you hadn’t come across each other again. Things would probably turn out differently. You may have to keep the baby’s existence a secret from him, and the truth about the father a secret from your family.

You may have to deal with everything yourself.

The possibility seems petrifying, but it still sounds a lot better than having to go against your stepsister. Better than causing your frail relationship to become even worse. This time, you know that this would be big enough to ruin any chance for you and your stepsister to have any kind of relationship at all.

He was right. It’s funny how life works. If only it doesn’t have to be this hard to laugh it off.

Stop it.

Keeping your eyes closed, you let out a deep sigh and force yourself to think about something else. Anything. As long as you are not thinking about him. His face, his voice, the scent of his cologne, everything that belongs to him.

Your head starts swimming. No, everything about him now belongs to someone else.

Once again, you force yourself to start thinking of less stressful things. Like Skye’s text message from this afternoon suggesting that you could run away with her to a secluded place somewhere in Europe so that the two of you could raise the baby together. Or the little stories that Honey shared about the cute new gardener now working at her apartment complex—the complex specifically built for elders like herself—that she wanted to introduce to you the next time you come by to visit.

You regret forgetting to pick up the smoothie that your mother made for you while you were throwing up in the bathroom, all due to Taehyung’s distraction. You wonder if having the smoothie would be able to help you feel better. Picturing the drink being left attended in the kitchen, you can picture your grandmother—the sweet little mischievous angel that she is—sneaking in a few drops of rum into the smoothie when your mother isn’t looking.

This thought makes you smile. It replaces every ugly thoughts that keep circling inside your mind and calms you down.

Your heartbeat is no longer beating like crazy. The more you fill your head with wonderful thoughts, the sooner the uneasy feeling in your stomach begins to wane.

And soon enough, you start drifting away to a restless sleep.

But just like how he invaded your home with his sudden appearance, Taehyung invades your sleep once your mind is left unguarded.

Speaking to him, albeit briefly, brings you back to that night. The moment you close your eyes, you start seeing everything from back then that you couldn’t remember in your waking hours. Even the smallest details that your conscious mind has forgotten. Everything comes crashing down on you as you toss and turn in your bed, unable to give in completely to a peaceful slumber as memories continue to flood your dreams.

Six weeks ago…

You opened your eyes and squinted.

The overhead lamp above your head was bright, and it was hurting your eyes. You could barely see a thing through your bleary eyes, until your gaze drifted further, looking into the dimly lit bedroom far across the foyer.

The room looked more spacious than yours, albeit a bit messy. The massive bed looked comfortable, and there were two lounge seats set up near the windows that looked more luxurious than the ones you had in your room.

“Your bedroom seems a lot more cozy than mine.”

The words came out of your lips with a moan. The sound seemed foreign. Barely recognisable through your hazy mind. But there was a familiar sensation slowly rising in your body that hadn’t at all come from the alcoholic drinks you were having tonight.

“Hmmm…You think so?”

A deep, sultry voice spoke as a pair of hot lips made their way down the side of your neck, tracing your skin with delicate kisses that made it even harder for you to think straight.

Shivers ran down your body. Heat rolled through your chest. And it almost seemed to you that your skin was becoming even more sensitive to the touch when even the most subtle caress of his fingers was able to light up your senses.

Right after the voice spoke to you, he suddenly switched and started kissing his way up. You blinked, and his face came into view just as he looked down at you. The beautiful face that captivated you when you first met him at the bar was presented right before your eyes.

So close. So tempting. And his eyes were so intense that you nearly lost your breath. He smiled and leaned down, capturing your lips with a kiss.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he murmured against your lips, drawing another moan out of you which snapped you from your daze.

You sighed as you gave in to the chaste kiss he was giving you. “It’s kind of hard to look around and see anything when you have me pinned to the door.”

He let out a soft chuckle and once again pressed his lips on yours. As if he was both pleased and amused that he got to put you in this position. When he pulled back, the look in his eyes softened.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It’s all your fault for teasing me all the way here while I couldn’t allow myself to touch you with so many eyes paying attention,” he said without any hint of regret in his voice.

“Well, forgive me because I wasn’t aware,” you taunted him back, knowing fully well what you had done to tease him until he was on the verge of breaking apart even before you reached his hotel suite.

As much as you wanted to hold back, you were quite sure that you hadn’t gotten things wrong. You couldn’t have possibly mistaken the chemistry that kept sparking between you. And the way he kept openly staring at your body was enough to make his intention clear, as his eyes seemed more honest than the words he gave you.

But back at the bar, you had let him be the first one to make the move.

With his sturdy hands, he was the one who pulled your seat closer. By placing his arm on your backrest, it may have seemed as if he was marking his territory for anyone else at the hotel bar to see. Normally, something like this would’ve put you off. But there was something in the way he did it that made you feel otherwise, allowing you to give in and lean more into his warmth instead of pushing him away.

That was when you reciprocated his actions with your own. The light and subtle touches of your fingers on his arm drew soft shudders through his body. The accidental brushes that happened when you moved against his body pushed him into wrapping his arm around you, keeping you close before he finally pulled you out of the bar.

When you leaned close enough to whisper softly against his ear, you could feel goosebumps rising on his skin, his heartbeat escalating under your palm, and he could barely hold himself back from devouring your lips right there at the hotel lobby. Right where everyone could see you falling into pieces under your sinful desire.

By the time you were alone with him in the elevator, the tension between you just kept escalating until he finally snapped.

He nearly dragged you across the hallway leading to his bedroom suite in his rush to get you alone. The moment he pulled you in through the door, every bit of his composure simply left him. He barely gave you a chance to catch a single glance of the suite, as he immediately pushed your body against the door and kept you there.

Until this moment.

His eyes grew dark after listening to your answer. His breath is still ragged after the hot kiss that he gave you once he got you pinned between his hard body and the locked door behind you.

With his broad chest locking you in place, his hips pressing against your lower body, he left you with nowhere else to go. But this didn’t seem to be enough for him. Looking into his eyes, you could tell that he needed to see you become even more vulnerable. Almost as if he wanted to punish you for putting him on the edge.

And he did exactly that as he slipped one hand around your neck and pulled your hair, tilting your head back so that he could continue exploring the column of your throat with his sinful lips. Instead of resisting it, you simply gave in. Arching your back to him further as he trailed kisses on your skin, your hands clutching on his jacket to hold on.

He used his other hand to explore the rest of your body. Starting from your waist, he continued to move further down to your hips. Tracing every curve, every dent along your body with his firm fingers pressing through your thin dress.

Just as he was about to reach the hem of your dress, he suddenly stopped and pulled back.

“Tell me again. Are you sure this is what you want?” His voice was quiet when he asked you this. It sounded as though he was caught between convincing himself that this was happening while giving you an out for one last time before getting too deep.

But you had gone deep.

And you knew then that the moment you let everything happen, there was no going back from it. Everything about this was new to you; hooking up with a complete stranger while you were in the middle of nowhere, and knowing that once the night was over, both of you were going to move on with your lives.

It felt thrilling to think about it, and the liquid courage should help you in letting go of your inhibitions. Yet you couldn’t deny the fact that you are feeling slightly nervous about jumping fully into this.

When you failed to answer him, Tae leaned down, pressing a chaste kiss right below your ear and whispered, “Well? Talk to me. Because there is no going back from this once we begin, and I won’t let you go until you tell me what you want.”

The way his breath tickled your ear and caressed your skin broke you out of the walls you put up. Every flicker of doubt you felt immediately melted. You brushed against him, allowing him to feel every bit of heat coursing through your body before you answered with a whisper, “Yes. I’ve never been so sure in my whole life.”

You could feel the way his breath was caught as you pressed your palm on his chest. Pressing against him, you raised yourself up and nipped his chin with your teeth.

“This is what I want.”

You weren’t completely sure if you ever got to finish your sentence when all of a sudden, his lips came crashing into yours, pressing firmly as he kissed you, barely concealing his desire for more.

The kiss unleashed your own desire. You opened your mouth for him in return, allowing him to devour you, to have a taste of your demands as he thoroughly kissed you until you were left breathless in his arms.

His hand began to move again just then. Tracing down your hips, he pressed the tips of his fingers harder into your flesh. He made it seem as if your dress had melted into your skin with the heat of his touch that you felt completely exposed to him. And he didn’t stop until he finally found the exposed skin of your thigh.

Your body quivered upon contact, and you could tell that he felt it too. He began stroking your skin, moving at a slow, agonising pace just to put you on the edge.

And he easily succeeded. Already, you could barely breathe, even when he was still far from touching any part of your body that needed him the most.

Overcame with need, your body started moving on instinct. As if his touches were controlling you as you lifted your thigh for him. His grip on your thigh tightened, helping you to keep your leg up and open yourself to him while his kiss became sloppy yet gentle as he released his hold on your hair.

He moved his other hand down, brushing against your covered breast with a brief contact and continued trailing down. You felt him pressing at your hips, before pulling the hem of your dress upward until your lower region was completely exposed. His hand continued its travel as it climbed up your inner thigh. So you opened your legs to give him better access. A move which he appreciated with a deep hum, before you felt his thumb brushing up just an inch away from your throbbing core.

“Should we move this someplace else? Somewhere that would be more comfortable for us?” he asked you with his lips hovering close to yours.

It took a moment for his words to sink in. Too lost in the sensation that you were made to feel, you felt as if you were drunk and high, not from the alcohol that was no longer running wildly through your veins, but from his entire presence alone.

All thoughts faded further as his thumb grazed across the front of your panties, finding your folds through the fabric before he pressed down, enough to give pressure on your covered clit. Sparks flew through your half-lidded eyes as pleasure came rushing through you in waves. You couldn’t stop the moan slipping out of your lips, nor the way your hips rocked into his touch to feel more.

“So responsive,” he murmured against your neck before he planted a light kiss on your skin. “I would have loved to watch and enjoy every reaction that you would give me, every sound you make, while I have you lie down on my bed and fuck you senseless.”

Your breath hitched and caught in your chest. Not only because of his words, but also from the way his thumb continued to rub against your covered clit. It felt sinful, yet so delectable the way he kept drawing more and more sparks and shuddering pleasure through your body.

After being deprived of such attention for quite some time, your body became more sensitive to every friction, every treatment he was giving you, and you simply wanted more.

“Then take me there. Take me to your bed.”

As if you had flicked a switch in his brain, his expression changed. His gaze darkened as he captured your lips with unrestrained need, yet he was careful when he picked you up, pressing you against his chest when he turned and moved to take you away from the door.

You wrapped your arms and legs around him for balance, while your lips remained locked in a deep kiss. You could feel his long stride as he began carrying you across the room. His kiss and his firm hold on your bottom cheeks were enough to draw your attention away from his clumsy footsteps, but not enough to deny you from sensing the changes happening around you.

The scent of his cologne grew thicker as he went deeper into the room, and you were getting more and more lost in him. Drowned in his heat, his kiss, and the traces that he had left behind all over his bedroom, you felt him everywhere all at once that you felt like you were being put under a spell.

All so suddenly, you were pulled out of it when he broke away from the kiss. He laid you gently over the cold white sheets of his partly-made bed. Instead of joining you right away, he chose to pull back. His eyes seemed to glint in the dimly lit room as he took this moment to take you in.

“Beautiful,” he murmured softly, drawing heat back to your face.

He kept his eyes on you as he shrugged off his jacket and began peeling his shirt from his chest. Desire pulsed through your body as you watched every move he was making without ever drawing his attention away from you.

The more you watched him, the stronger the pull that you felt towards him. Once the need to touch him took over, you reached up and tugged on his pants, hoping that you could quickly shred them off of his body.

You barely grazed against his covered hard-on when he stopped you by catching your wrists. Like a disappointed teacher, he made a disapproval sound with his tongue.

“Patience, Red,” he teasingly said to you as he grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it off of you with one swift move. You fell back to the bed with a gasp, shocked to see how easy it was for him to take over until you were left with nothing more but your lacy underthings.

The intensity you felt from his gaze made you want to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But being half inebriated was making you slow in thoughts and movement that you couldn’t do anything but lay still. At the same time, you enjoyed the way he was looking at you, loving how he was losing himself to you the same way you did to him.

But it was the words that he said next that further brought out your wanton needs.

“Be a good girl and stay still. I want you to stay just like this,” he said with a murmur while his eyes ran down your body, “I want you to lie on your back while you are screaming out my name.”

If only you hadn’t been so lost for words, perhaps you would have challenged him in return. Instead, by the time every piece of his clothing was gone, you felt like you had melted further into the sheets. The raw passion you saw in his gaze and the way he was tracing his fingertips on your skin had locked you completely in place, leaving you with no other option but to surrender as he took control.

He bent down, his lips came down to your neck. Planting his kisses on your skin, he kept your attention away from his hands as he snapped off your bra and went down to pull your panties down your hips. As he dragged your panties down your bare legs, he continued his kisses further down, not stopping until he reached your heaving chest.

You couldn’t even remember what happened to that flimsy piece of fabric that he took from you. Everything else faded as his tongue grazed across your chest, drawing a gasp out of your lips. His firm hands returned to your hips right then, holding you down while he captured your taut nipple between his teeth.

The feeling that coursed through you was heavenly. A shooting pain came with a flare as he bit down, yet it was quickly replaced with an overwhelming feeling of pleasure when he lapped the pain away with his sinful tongue.

“Tae—”

His body quivered against yours at the sound of your voice. He pulled away with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he watched you arching your chest as if you were chasing him.

He ran his gaze down your body. Perusing you while silently admiring what he was seeing while he licked his lips. As if he was picturing the way you would taste.

“Tell me how badly you want this, Red,” he taunted you with his hand reaching out to the nightstand. You vaguely saw him grabbing a condom while you were struggling to breathe. Your eyes fell on his exposed, throbbing cock, and words simply left you.

Seeing its impressive size and girth, your entire body erupted with a pulse. It started from deep inside your core, right where you wanted to feel him the most. Astonished, you failed to remember that he was still waiting for your answer with his eyes locked on your face.

And he made you struggle further to find words when he reached down, wrapping his long fingers around his cock and started giving himself slow, lazy strokes. You could see the bead of his pre-cum glistening under the dim lighting. It took everything in you to stop yourself from leaning forward and lapping him dry. To have a taste, before you let him devour every drop of your essence.

“Red? Talk to me,” he spoke to you again with a curious tone in his voice.

He knew that he wasn’t getting any attention, as your eyes were locked only at one place that was not his face, and he seemed to be curious to know what was making you so lost in thoughts.

Instead of answering him, you continued to watch, completely transfixed by his actions, as he slowly spread his pre-cum along the length of his cock. You licked your lips, almost as if you could taste him. A barely concealed whimper slipped out of your lips when you watched him slowly roll the condom to cover himself from the tip of his cock and down to the base.

Seeing him covered with protection seemed to snap you back to the present. Even if your pulsing need still refused to tame down.

Resting back against the pillows, you dragged your eyes away from his impressive cock to his beautiful face.

“I want you here. Inside me,” you finally responded to his question. Placing your palms on the underside of your thighs, you parted your legs open, making him see the mess that had been building up right between your legs while you were enjoying the show he was giving you.

Now it was your turn to give him a show.

Reaching between your legs, you moved your fingers to find your folds. You bit back a gasp once the tips of your fingers were met with your wet arousal. It felt slick as you moved your fingers around, parting your nether lips so he could see your swollen clit, before you moved your fingers in circles, pressing at yourself the exact same way you wished he would.

“Please, fuck me, Tae. Fuck me good.”

His pupils dilated at the sound of your voice, at the pleading words you were giving him. You loved the way he was reacting to you just as much as he did with you, yet you decided to push his buttons further by adding, “And then I want to hear you scream my name while you cum inside me.”

He raised his eyebrows. “What a little brat,” he said, chuckling. “So you like to play games, hmmm?”

You bit your bottom lip, holding back a moan that was threatening to come out when your touch inadvertently pushed against the source of your heat. “Oh, I do. Games are always fun.”

While he continued stroking his cock at a lazy pace, he used the other hand to grab your neck. His palm fit perfectly as he wrapped it around the column of your throat, putting pressure that was not enough to choke you, yet enough to show you who was in control.

“Then let’s play,” he groaned while he pressed you back down on the bed. “But this time, I make the rules.”

You felt the electrifying pleasure surging through your body as he brushed your hand away and lined himself against your entrance, shutting down the circuits inside your brain for a moment and stopping you from wiggling too much beneath him just to feel more friction.

A sharp moan was drawn from your lips as Tae slammed his full length deep inside you. The sensation that you felt from being filled by his width was so feral and explosive that you were sure you immediately experienced your orgasm right then and there.

Your body must have been shaking, which was a response that you failed to notice as you had your senses filled with the steady pulse of pleasure pressing across the girth of his cock. He must have noticed it when he came to a halt, giving you a chance to process everything and adjust to his presence inside you.

Nothing made sense to you beyond the pulsing pleasure that you felt from your hot pussy. Your senses were filled with the sound of your racing heartbeat, the soothing touch of his fingers on your skin, and the whispers of his voice calling you back to him.

He only managed to bring you back to the present by pressing gentle kisses on your lips, nose, and then on the rest of your face, stopping only after he kissed your lips again to draw your attention back to him.

Your legs were quivering when you opened your eyes to see him, yet you could already tell from the way the pulses that came right where you were joined started to settle, that your body had adjusted perfectly to his size.

But it didn’t mean that you would simply take it without sharing your thoughts.

“You’re—big,” you complained with a soft moan when you felt him growing harder inside you. It didn’t stop you from rocking your hips, trying to feel more friction, while he merely chuckled at your words.

“And it’s perfect for your tight pussy.”

His words drew a gasp from you. But he didn’t pay much attention to it, as he slowly began to move. He started with a slow pace, which was torturous and agonising, forcing you to feel the delectable way his girth was brushing against your pulsing walls.

Back and forth he went, going so deep you could almost feel him pressing up your stomach before pulling out until only the tip was buried inside you. He kept moving at the same pace, until you began to feel more desperate. Even your body was shaking with the need to feel more.

“More—!” you whispered with a strangled moan, “go faster.”

Hearing this, instead of doing what you were begging him to, Tae denied your plea by doing the opposite. With a wicked grin on his face, the fucker slowed down, bringing the pleasure that had been rising back down a notch.

You opened your mouth to protest against it, and he moved his hands down your hips, stopping at your thighs where he gave you a tight grip.

“You want more?” he asked you, his voice almost seemed to grow deeper, and you could feel a tinge of danger when he spoke. The same danger you saw coming through his gaze as he slowly brought your legs up.

You expected him to stop once he got your legs up his shoulders. But he just kept going. And going. Until you were nearly folded with your legs almost pressed to your chest.

“Tae—!”

It made you feel vulnerable, with nothing but your hands to use to hold on while he had full control of your body. He was still buried inside you, and this position allowed you to feel him more. As though you had grown tighter around him and he was growing bigger. His entire length and width made you feel full, as his cock was pressing tightly against your hot walls.

“You wanted more,” he murmured as he began moving, rocking his hips slowly back and forth, going in and out of you, drawing more and more of that shuddering pleasure out of your body as he continued fucking you gently. “I’m giving you more.”

He began increasing his pace. Going faster the more he heard you moaning in pleasure. “Lift your arms, Red. Bring them up and hold the pillows.”

It took a moment for his words to register in your head. Your hands had been clutching tightly on his forearms and it was a struggle to let go. And he waited, tormenting you by keeping his pace much too slow to your liking until you followed his command.

Your hands trembled as you unlatched them from his skin. You could barely feel your fingers as you dragged your hands up, as every part of your body grew more sensitive the more you opened your entire self to him. Keeping your eyes on him, you got lost in his intense gaze.

It was then when you finally came in contact with the soft pillows above your head, and your fingers easily sank into them, latching onto them as you did when you were holding onto his arms.

“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured gently, and you were pleasantly surprised to realise how much you loved hearing his praise. Warmth bloomed in your chest, and it easily made its way down right to your core. “Now hold on tightly and don’t let go.”

And you did just that. Holding on tightly the way he wanted you to.

Only once he gained complete control of your body, once you fully submitted to him, he finally fulfilled your wish. He held firmly on your thighs to keep them folded and open for him, and he began ramming his cock deep inside you.

He was doing it faster. Harder. Sending you high in pleasure while all you could do was take his constant pounding. The only leverage you had to hold on was the tight hold you had on the pillows and the weight of his body that was pressing you down each time he pushed deeply inside you.

The anomalous sounds coming out of both of your lips kept bouncing off the walls. Followed by the sound of flesh clashing against flesh, the slick sounds that came from right where you were joined, and the creaking sound of the bed beneath you.

He kept going, relentless in his rough thrusts and his need to push you over the edge, until you could feel the rise of your orgasm coming in waves. The wanton pleasure that was hot and intense came rising inside you, growing rapidly with his deep thrusts until you finally succumbed to it, coming into your climax with a scream.

“Tae, I’m coming,” you cried out to him as you fell over the edge, though you weren’t completely sure if the words coming out of your lips were as coherent as you thought they would have been.

The sound of your pounding heartbeat seemed to drown everything away. Except that you could still hear the sound of his breathless grunts as they grew clearer, and the strangled moan that came out of him when he shouted, “That’s it, Red. Fuck, I’m coming!”

With a sharp intake of breath, he came to his climax. You felt every pulse of his release as he came inside you, and the tremble in his chest that surged through him with his deep groan as he relished the pleasure. Even after his release, he kept moving, rocking slowly and steadily until the spasms of your orgasm slowly began to wane down.

He remained buried inside you when he gently released you from his hold. You could barely feel his lips pressing on your quivering thighs before he lowered them back on the mattress, yet his gentle fingers remained hot on your skin when he brushed up against you.

He reached up and gently pried your fingers away from the pillows before slipping his fingers between yours. The way your fingers were entwined together felt so intimate. So unlike anything that you had ever thought about what a one-night stand would entail.

Your body felt hot, and your muscles were lax, but there was a series of small spasms still going strong from deep inside you, coaxed by his incessant rocking. You should have been pushing him off of you, instead of embracing his weight as he lowered himself, covering your body with his own.

“Tae—” you whimpered against his lips as he kissed you. Holding your hands in his, he continued to rock his hips.

How he managed to remain so hard and stiff even after his climax was beyond you. He still felt thick as he moved. His cock brushed against your pulsing walls as he went in and out, awakening all sparks of pleasure that were supposed to have dwindled.

And with how sensitive your body was, it rose and peaked so quickly and you had no power to stop it.

“Too…much…” you cried between the strangled moans coming out of your lips, right before he swallowed them with another kiss.

“One more,” he groaned as he picked up his pace. “Just do it one more time for me, Red.”

You were so sensitive it was beginning to hurt, but the pleasure was also maddening that you didn’t want to stop. This time, he wasn’t holding you down so strongly, allowing you to move beneath him. So you rocked back against him, pushing up each time he was thrusting into you. It only took a couple of more strokes before the coil in your core snapped, and you were sent to another climax.

And he joined you in your release, falling into a smaller climax of his own as you clenched tightly around him.

He came with a deep groan. His whole body quaked against you before he finally fell on top of you. While you were trying to control your breath, his lips came brushing your neck, kissing you gently to help soothe down the shudders running through your body.

“Fuck…so perfect,” he sighed between his kisses, his voice came in and out through your senses, and the sparks you felt rushing through your body started waning as you were slowly drifting away into the night, with his words echoing in your dreams,

“You are perfect.”

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading so far. Any likes, kudos, comments, and feedbacks will be appreciated. The story continues in part 2.

#k-vanity #bangtanwhq #taehyung smut #bts smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts angst #bts x reader

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whowantshota · 2 months

Text

DADDY'S HOME —— kim mingyu

in which your husband comes home late on valentines. but it's okay, he has his ways of making it up to you.

warnings ☆ MATURE CONTENT AHEAD. smut, husband!mingyu, somno, gyu is pussy whipped, kim mingyu x afab!reader

i get off work late today :/

c u ltr, ok?

You frown at the texts, irritability rubbing your thumb against your temples.

This is not the first time your husband has texted you that he’d be late from work, oh of course not. You understand—-sometimes, his schedule is tight and that makes work the temporary number one priority. You obviously mean more to Mingyu than his paycheck.

Or so you thought. You groan, flopping back onto the couch miserably. Mingyu has come late at night at least twice a week for the past month now, so it should be a normal occurrence. At least, if tonight wasn’t Valentine's.

Yes, today was the commercial holiday that pisses about off half the world. And funnily enough, Mingyu had only sworn to you three major things in his life. One, good dick. Two loving you. And three, that he’d never miss Valentine's day.

While the last one was mostly a long inside joke from before you got married, you’re still glancing worriedly at the clock. 9:30 and you’re still holed up alone in your apartment, a box of chocolates with his name on it set on top of the kitchen table.

Mingyu hadn’t promised you a dinner date at a restaurant tonight —you both knew that wouldn't fit with his schedule. But he had promised to cook you something romantic, pour you a glass of wine, and then fuck you till you see stars.

And being very honest, you think you would’ve loved that much more than a night out. Loved it so much, by the way you’re sneaking your hand into your panties. Pushing one, two fingers in; but it's never good enough—it'll never be Mingyu.

So you quit early, stand up because you're tired of waiting around. He’ll be home tomorrow. You can wash up now, clean up and see him later. It’ll be fine. You can celebrate then, right?

★ . *- .

Mingyu didn’t think he’d be making up Valentines like this. When he thought about it on the way home, he had pictured at dinner out at your favorite restaurant, or flowers and an even bigger gift basket than the ones he had already bought for you.

But, you didn’t hear the crack of the door, or the creek of the apartment floors when he walked in. You didn’t even hear when the loud thunk! when his work bag hit the floor. Or when he sets down the heart shaped pendant Joshua had picked out on top of a pink gift basket he had planned to give you much earlier.

He realized then, that you would not be waking up for a while. You were tired, basically passed out. He does feel bad for making you wait so long, but shit, he swears his cock never throbbed as hard as it did when he caught the sight of your sleeping figure curled up in bed. Only in a small tee and new pair of panties he got you a couple of weeks ago. Fuck, you look perfect.

So he went, took a shower and got dressed before laying next to you in bed. You murmur something when his arm wraps around you, snuggling into him. But you don’t wake up.

“Pretty,” he mumbles, slowly running his thumb over the skin of your cheek. He pokes you a couple of times with a finger. You look so cute—eyes shut with your mouth partially open. You might’ve been drooling even.

His hand dips down to your torso, rests on your hip. He was nearly starting to fall asleep too, blinking in a poor attempt to keep himself up too. And right then, you just had to shuffle, pushing back against him. A small noise slips past his lips when the curve of your ass pressed against his clothed, semi-hard cock.

Poor Gyu, stuck in bed while you’re sound asleep. How’s he supposed to take care of that? He feels his cock twitch again, grip on your hip tightening just barely.

It wouldn’t be a problem if he just helped himself, right? Inhaling, his hand moves a bit further, hooking around the bottom of your panties. He prods against the warmth of your entrance pushing a finger in.

Fuck, you’re so wet. He can hear the sound of your slick when he presses another finger inside. It’s almost as if your cunt is begging for him to fuck you. And it’s only right that what his lovely wife and her pretty cunt wants, they get.

Mingyu pulls his fingers out, sucks on it. Moving slowly, he climbs until he’s hovering over your still figure. There’s a tight feeling in his core, dick hard as pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. He pulls the waistband of his sweats down, groaning when cold air hits his cock. He spreads your legs a little wider, teases himself against your pussy.

Mingyu sees Heaven when the tip slips past your entrance. Swears he could cum on the spot. You’re so warm, so soft. It’s not his fault, you’re the one who lured him into this trap.

He can do a little more than the tip. You haven’t moved yet, still partially twisted one way with your legs spread wide for him. You were just made to take his cock, weren’t you?

He should have been making up Valentines with a picnic date in the park. Should have been thinking about what he’ll cook you for breakfast tomorrow morning, if he’ll deliver it to you with a card and a rose.

Instead, he’s got you trapped under him on the mattress, seemingly so passive and docile as you sleep, not conscious of the fact that he’s got you stuffed with his fat cock. He wonders if you’re dreaming about it now. You’re not necessarily a deep sleeper, so he’s surprised you don’t wake up when he bottoms out.

He doesn’t know what to say, can’t even speak. You feel so good, too good. Cunt wrapped around him, clenching. He’d kiss you if you were awake right now, but you’re not so he’ll settle with what he has. He fucks a soft thrust into you, watching for your reaction. Your breath catches, but you don’t do more than that.

“Perfect. You’re just perfect, baby.” He groans, pulling out until the tip before he forces himself back in. You let out a moan, arching so slightly. Mingyu thumbs your nipple through your shirt, speeding up the pace of his strokes.

He dips his head to press a kiss to your sternum, lips skimming and peppering kisses along your collarbone next.

You twist just barely under his hold, eyes fluttering open. You’re still coming to, blurry eyes barely making out the sight of Mingyu’s body caging over you. Whining, you bite your down on your lip when you feel the stupidly fat cock slowly fucking into your cunt.

“Hey baby,” Mingyu murmurs, now kissing the side of your neck. Your whimpers get louder, and you move one arm and snake your it over his shoulder. He groans when you clench on him, sucking harder on your skin. “Don’t worry baby, daddy’s home.”

Tiredly, you rub your eyes with your free hand. There’s pleasure building in your stomach rapidly, and you start to force yourself to sink deeper onto his cock. “Gyu– daddy, please.” You cry, fucking back on him.

You hear him hum in response, but you can’t answer. Not when he’s picking up the pace of his strokes, pushing hard, deep thrusts into your tight cunt. “Yeah baby? Come on, tell daddy what you need.” He teases, pushing your legs back before moving to grope your ass cheeks with his big hands.

Now that you’re awake, Mingyu tightens his grip, fucking into you harder. “Need Daddy to help you cum, hm?” He says, voice playful. As if he wasn’t the one whimpering and fucking himself into your pussy moments ago.

“Couldn’t help it, you looked so good.” He murmurs. His hips are starting to buck into your sloppily, You mewl, nodding. Pretty sure you might even be drooling but you couldn’t give a fuck. Everything feels too good, and you’ve got no idea what’s going on. Mingyu says something you can’t hear, kisses along your jawline before he presses his lips to yours.

You can barely make out the “Happy Valentines.” he whispers, cumming too hard. Your cunt clenching around his dick, mouth falling open. He wants to spit in it, call you a slut, but he can’t when he feels you pulse around his cock.

Gyu’s eyes roll back, and he lets out a low hiss, warm cum filling up your cunt. His body flops over yours, sweaty chest pressing to the front of your shirt. You run a hand through his hair, kiss his nape softly. “Someones late,” you joke, voice breathy.

“I know. ‘M sorry.” he says, moving down so that his head lies on your chest. He loves the feeling of you tugging on his hair slightly, ruffling his hair.

He looks up suddenly, disheveled but handsome as ever. “I’ll make it up. Wine and spa?”

You laugh, seeing the way he pouts. He looks like a giant puppy, cuddled up into you. You love it, love it so much you’re not even remotely bothered by the mess on cum or the fact that he still hasn’t pulled out. Pushing his hair back with a hand, you kiss him on the forehead once more. “Sure. Happy Valentines.”

didn't realize that even tho it's still valentines in my country, it's late in other places :( happy valentines! not beta read

#LMAOOO THE DADDYS HOME LINE #kpop hard thoughts #kpop hard hours #seventeen x reader #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu smut #kpop smut

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tobifuyu · 10 months

Text

New hair, who dis?

Ran Haitani x f!reader

After years of friendship, Ran is growing and maturing right in front of your eyes but you cannot bring yourself to accept what change brings about.

cw: nsfw, mdni, basically porn with plot, friends to lovers, reader is oblivious, ran is a simp, rindou is so done, masturbation, mirror sex, use of sex toys, hair kink ig, lots of pet names.

wc: 9,7k

a/n: gosh this is way too long I’m so sorry I just have too many ideas and once I start writing I cannot stop myself. many more fics to come, I have a long list of fantasies to satisfy. also, we stan simp ran in this house.

One thing you were not expecting when opening the door of your apartment that evening was for Ran to walk in looking like a completely different person.

You wouldn’t even have recognized him if it weren’t for his purple eyes staring down at you with their ever-present mischievous glint.

Lately, his lanky body has been filling out the new suits he’s wearing in a delicious way, and the time he’s been putting in at the gym, even if reluctantly, is visibly paying off.

You notice he has removed the transparent plaster from the fresh tattoo on his neck, black ink a stark contrast against his pale skin.

There’s something else missing, and the sight is so unsettling that for a moment you think about closing the door on his face.

Who is this man staring back at you? If this is Ran, why are his infamous braids gone?

“Ran, what the fuck?”

“I can explain!” He puts his hands up, gesturing at you to let him come in, and you move out of his way automatically as you take him in from different angles.

The door gets closed behind your back and Ran wraps your wrist in one of his big hands to steer you to your couch in the center of the living room. You’re both silent as you sit down, your eyes fixed on the damage.

“I cut my hair.”

“I can fucking see that!” The smug grin that was stretching his pretty lips slowly fades at the agitation in your voice. The thing is that you don’t understand why you feel so distraught.

It shouldn’t matter, right? It’s not like he went and cut your own hair behind your back. Yeah, he could’ve let you know about such an important decision in his life as he does with pretty much everything else. He could’ve maybe even asked for your opinion. But he didn’t have to.

You and Ran have been friends for years, more than a decade, and you have seen him cut and style his hair multiple times in the past. Just because you are particularly infatuated with the way his two-toned braids swung around while fighting, or how he would twirl them with his baton and long fingers, and how it looked untied, forming a messily shaped halo behind his head while resting on the pillow during one of your many cuddling sessions… doesn’t mean he had to ask for your permission.

It’s not like he knows how much you love to brush his soft locks before twisting them back into the braids that come hunting you on your dream-filled nights. Because you’ve never told him. So it’s not his fault if all these things don’t matter to him.

“You don’t like ‘em?” He coughs to hide the embarrassment he feels after asking such a vulnerable question. Ran has never really cared about what other people think of him, except for maybe Rindou, sometimes. But you’re an exception.

He knows he’s far from ugly and he thought he looked real good with the new haircut. He was excited to match with his little brother once again, and he thought you would also, considering how well you reacted a couple of weeks ago when Rin showed you the light purple color he got done at the saloon.

Maybe, just maybe, you like Rin a bit better? No, he thinks, it can’t be possible. He would’ve noticed something like that.

Then why are you acting so… mad? Or is it hurt he sees painted across your pretty face?

You let out a sigh, “No, it looks good. I overreacted, I’m sorry. I just– I wasn’t expecting you to cut your hair, that’s all.”

He scoffs, as if he doesn’t believe your words, and pulls one of your hands up to his hair. He wants to convince you that not much has changed, and you’ll still get to play with it while watching movies, he thinks it’s soft enough with the treatment he has done, “See, it’s still pretty long, just pushed back. Maybe you can braid it sometimes.”

You laugh at that and Ran smiles at you. You meet his soft gaze before daring another glimpse at his new haircut. It’s styled in such a way that accentuates his sharp facial structure, jawline visible in all its glory.

“You look…” Hot. Fuck. You shake your head, trying to reign yourself in as you stroke the soft hair, “It looks good, more mature. It’s fluffier than I thought, Rannie.”

The more you look at him the more you realize that this new look of his is toying with your already decaying sanity.

Pull yourself together, for fuck’s sake.

Ran lets it go after that, props you to get settled on the couch, and removes his suit jacket before grabbing some drinks and snacks to watch a movie.

An hour in, he lays his head on your chest. It’s routine, he’s always been clingy with you, in private. And you’ve always enjoyed the closeness, no matter how confusing it might be, so you never question him.

Your hands subconsciously bury themselves between his lilac locks. You can hear him let out a deep sigh as you scratch his scalp, relaxing into your hold.

“Looks good, Ran. I like it a lot,” You whisper as if to reassure him, whilst you’re only stopping yourself from confessing that you would like him even if he were bald. Your gentle motions make him fall asleep with his lips curled in a smile.

My sleepy boy, you think.

That night you wake up in a cold sweat. The blond tresses that you constantly dream of softly stroking have been subsided by messy lilac locks. The short length is being gripped by your hands as its owner's head peaks from between your thighs. Unfortunately, it’s not very the first time you dream of Ran in such a compromising position. But the matching lavender gaze staring at you with purpose is now fresh in your memory, and makes his haircut seem even more attractive, the perfect length to shove him back against your heat.

Your cheeks redden as you try to shake the feeling away, you get rid of the covers and turn on your side ready for sleep to take over once again, but his new and improved look keeps hunting you at every toss and turn.

You reach into your bedside table for the only thing that can bring you peace of mind: your trusty vibrator. It’s a small bullet one, but it does its job just fine when you press it against your clit to release the pent-up stress of the day. You think nothing of it when the face that appears behind your closed eyelids as you come is that of your bestfriend.

The next couple of weeks, it doesn’t escape Ran the fact that you’re looking at him a little weird. At first, he thinks you might still be trying to get used to his new look. It was definitely a drastic change, and for you who have known him for such a long time, to be faced with it without him even giving you any heads up must’ve been weird. So he hopes that the gift he has planned to give you, will be enough to make it up to his bestfriend, to show how much he cares about your friendship and your opinions, even if he didn’t ask for it this time.

Then he starts panicking because you stop picking up his phone calls. You don’t make plans to hang out with him anymore, just shoot a text from time to time to let him know that you’re okay but busy. He’d like to believe you, but you’ve always made time for him before. You’re avoiding him.

He doesn’t know that you cannot bring yourself to face him anymore. You had managed to suppress the feelings you harbor for him for years, but seeing him in another light, with his childish braids replaced by a more mature and undoubtedly attractive look, has been the hardest challenge for you.

You feel ashamed by the number of times his face has been appearing in your mind at the most inconvenient times. You feel too dirty to look him in the eyes and pretend like you don’t dream of them at night.

Ran has reached a level of desperation where he has to involve his brother before he loses his cool over something that, he thinks rationally, shouldn’t even bother him that much. The two of you are just friends, you don’t owe him your time.

Luckily, you pick up Rindou’s call on his first try, you haven’t heard from him in a while, so it only makes sense that you do, might be something important. What if something has happened to Ran?

Rin doesn’t want anything to do with this mess, but he can’t bear to stress over the safety of his brother anymore as he comes to their meetings looking tired and miserable as hell. Bonten is just starting out, and they’re dealing with some heavy shit now, his brother needs to fucking focus.

So he invites you over for some drinks. Explains how it’s just a small get-together they’re throwing to celebrate a new deal, only some of the guys will attend. And when you ask about Ran, he rolls his eyes but replies that his brother is not gonna be there. Which is a lie, a big fat lie that is gonna turn into a headache for him soon enough. He knows that already.

You show up just because you’ve been holed up in your apartment for the past week. Work has been… well, work. And your friend group is pretty much the same as Ran’s, so you couldn’t risk him getting word of you being out and about after you’ve turned down all his invitations. You’re joining tonight because Ran hasn’t tried to contact you in a few days, and Rin has promised his brother is gonna be held back at work. Getting a few drinks with your old friends is the perfect way to destress.

You don’t make it that far, though, because the moment you walk in Ran is already there. Mingling about and walking like he owns the place, which he does. You turn to Rindou, who’s conveniently opened the door for you and is now planning to make a run for it, and you look at him as if you’re ready to tear his head off. He must’ve known what’s going on, there’s no other way for him to be so sneaky about this. He sends an apologetic look your way before scrambling away to Sanzu, who’s waiting for him in the dark of the corridor leading to the rooms.

Ran stutters over to you the moment his eyes lay on your fidgeting figure. He’s wearing a pair of dress pants and a shirt that look like they’ve been tailored to fit his lanky body in such a way that makes it hard for you to breathe. His short hair is parted and gelled back, a few pieces falling off the hairstyle and resting effortlessly on his forehead.

“Hey pretty, you’ve made it.”

“Looks like it,” you shrug your shoulders, looking around awkwardly as he ushers you into the middle of the living room. You should’ve known the brothers would’ve stuck together. Fuck you, Rindou.

“D’you want something to drink?” He sits beside you, and the scene reminds you so much of when he last came over to your apartment, except this time you’re surrounded by a handful of people. Gotta make sure you’re on your best behavior, so you turn down the drink.

“C’mon, work has been stealing you from me for weeks now, y’need to let go a little.” He can sense you’re tense, and maybe alcohol isn’t the best choice in this situation, but he doesn’t know how else to let you at least look at him. He feels a pang in his chest. Why won’t you even look at him?

“I’m okay, thanks.” You’re acting so cold and distant. He’s starting to wonder if all of this really has happened over him simply cutting his hair, or if there’s something deeper beneath it. Did you feel betrayed by him not telling you?

“I think I’m just gonna go home, I’m pretty beat actually,” you start to say, and Ran doesn’t want to force you, but he doesn’t want you to go either. “Please, just some more time to catch up. Rin wanted to see you as well,” as he says this he looks around the room and curses his brother for leaving with Sanzu.

Ran’s ass gets saved by Kakucho tapping on your shoulder before he wraps an arm around both of them as you turn to greet him. You’re smiling again, just how Ran likes to see you, but the pit of his stomach is burning with something akin to jealousy.

He’s relieved that Kakucho stopped you from upping and leaving, but he doesn’t like how you get up and join him at the counter to get him another round. Seems like you’re not drinking still, means you don’t plan on sticking around.

Ran is bummed out, he stops staring at you and Kakucho after some others join in on the conversation. He doesn’t want you to mingle with these people too much (most of them have something to do with Bonten, after all), but he’s the one who strategized all of this in the first place, so he lets you enjoy yourself. He’d rather stop pushing you before he makes it worse.

In the meantime, you’re watching a pouting Ran sit on the couch from the corner of your eye. Kakucho snickers as he notices, and you swat him away when he suggests you go sit back down with “your Ran”.

“He’s been a mess these past few weeks, I think he misses you. A lot,” Kakucho has never been anything but kind and truthful to you, that’s why you enjoy his presence so much. He’s a breath of fresh air around the much violence this friend group has experienced growing up. He’s one of those who has suffered the most but he always has a nice word to spare. Such a pure heart, his.

Your eyes wander back to where your heart is, but what you see makes your face turn into a grimace. A pretty girl you’ve known for a while, someone’s girlfriend you recall, has sat down in your spot and is now talking to Ran. They seem to be sharing a laugh as she reaches over to stroke Ran’s hair out of his face, before gesturing at it as if complimenting the new hairstyle.

The interaction is short-lived and friendly, you know her for being nothing but nice, but you feel like shit now.

You don’t like the feeling of jealousy, especially when it’s not even excused. You just don’t like when people touch Ran’s hair, and you do even less now that it has become such a touchy subject for you. He let her, that’s the problem.

“Yeah, I bet he missed me alright,” you mumble bitterly as you excuse yourself from Kakucho.

It doesn’t take you long to stand in front of Ran and stare down at him with cold eyes, “‘m leaving. Have a goodnight,” You direct the last bit to the girl, hoping she doesn’t think you’re remotely even mad at her. Then, you leave the apartment in such a rush that you don’t hear Ran calling for you. You feel like you’re underwater and the first real breath of air you take is back at your flat.

All you had time to do, before hearing the furious knocks banging on your door, is take off your makeup and wear your pajamas. Maybe, just maybe, if they had started shaking the wood just ten minutes later, you would’ve been sleeping already and not giving enough fucks to get up from your bed.

You open the door, no need to check from the peephole as you already know who it could be at this ludicrous hour.

“We need to talk.”

“No, we don’t, I have work early in the morning,” you try arguing as you go to close the door. He blocks it with his shoe, pushing it open with his right hand as he stares at you with a look he usually reserves for Rindou when he gets pissed off about something important. It’s completely different from the one he has while fighting, he’s not being snarky or overconfident, he looks serious and undeniably mad.

“You’ve been avoiding me. For weeks. ‘Cause I cut my fucking hair.” He slams the door as he steps inside the apartment and you jump from the sudden sound, walking towards you as you slowly back away and fidget with your raised hands. You’re not scared of him, you know he’d never do anything to hurt you. You’re just scared of the confrontation that is about to go down, the fact that you’re gonna have to tell the truth, for once and for all, cause you can’t possibly hold it from him anymore. And just like that, you’re gonna lose Ran.

Ran takes in your panicked state and slows down to approach you carefully, his face softens and he clasps your hands in his bigger ones. With the grip he has on them, he drags you closer to his body. The two of you are standing in the center of the room as silence overtakes it. You can feel his stare burning your skin but you keep your own cast down.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” His thumbs are stroking your skin in a calming pattern, “I don’t know what I’ve done, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m sorry.”

You don’t understand what he’s talking about. The one apologizing here should be you! “You did nothing wrong, Ra–“

“Please look at me,” you cast him a glance from under your lashes, but the way he’s staring back is so intimidating that you can’t help but feel your face heat up and you have to divert your eyes elsewhere, “You can’t even look at me.”

“Ran, I swear this has nothing to do with you cutting off your piss-colored hair.”

He knows you well enough not to get offended, your self-defensive mechanism has always been that of getting mean.

Two fingers find their way to your chin to grip it and raise it enough so that your eyes meet once again. You can’t escape him this time.

“Tell me how to fix it, how to fix us.”

His voice is almost a whisper, he sounds so distraught, blaming himself for your stupidity. You can’t take it anymore. You love Ran, the last thing you want is for him to be hurting.

“I’m not mad at you Ran, I’m mad at myself,” His purple eyes widen with surprise, but he remains silent as he lets you explain yourself, “This is gonna sound, real bad but… I couldn’t bring myself to face you these past few weeks. Cause I had a wet dream about you. After you cut your hair…” You’re not telling the whole truth as of yet – there have been multiple dreams – but you need to test the waters first.

“Oh,” Well fuck, you’ve said it now. “Oh, wow.” His hands drop his hold on one of yours and fall from your chin, for a moment you think he’s gonna step back and run away far from you, but then you feel his touch on your waist, moving you even closer than before.

His lips settle on your forehead, stamping a kiss on the skin while you feel his mouth vibrate against it as he shakes with laughter.

This is Ran we’re talking about, ‘course he’s not gonna run away, he’s gonna embarrass you to the ground. In a week's time, everyone in your friend group will probably know about this. Not only is your friendship officially ruined, but you’ll never get to step outside of your flat without feeling like a walking joke ever again, “Are you laughing at me?”

“You got embarrassed?” He places another smooch over the same spot, “So what if I made you wet in a dream? It was my haircut, wasn’t it?”

Ran giggles. The motherfucker thinks he’s funny.

“Is that why you reacted that way back at my place? You got mad someone else was gripping my hair?” His mocking voice makes you flush red, but you know better than to give in to his teasing.

“She barely touched you, please. Like I give a damn,” You roll your eyes, finally getting the courage to stare at his smirking face as you fall back into your comfortable routine of making fun of each other. “I can always grip it myself and show you the difference,” You bark back, watching how the side of his curved lips slightly twitches.

“Go at it, babygirl.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Gosh, you seem to be pretty mad still,” he’s pouting, and you swear you wanna bite his lips so badly right now.

Get a fucking grip, oh my goodness. You haven’t even told him the worst part yet. He doesn’t know you’ve masturbated to him. He doesn’t know you like him way more than a simple friend should.

“Should I find some way to make it up to you?” His words snap you back to reality, but he’s been observing you, lavender hues taking in your scrunched-up face as you think hard over something that is still concealed from him. He wants to kiss your cute cheeks, wants to hear you giggle. You’re his precious girl, he feels this visceral need to let you know just how much he cares.

Ran’s mouth presses against the apple of your cheeks once, twice, trice. He’s leaving kisses all over the bare skin, switching from one side to the other, kissing the top of your nose endearingly.

One of the hands he has gripping your waist slides to the center of your back, over the sleep shirt you’re wearing, trying to stop you from running away from his kiss attack – as if you would – and to keep you comfortably pressed against his embrace.

He can feel you melt against his body. Rosy lips parted to take in deep breaths. Your eyelids are now closed and he doesn’t waste time kissing over them as well. He can feel your skin heating up against his mouth, feverish-like, but he can’t stop himself from dragging his lips lower to peck at your jawline.

The kisses he’s giving you are all kinds of kisses, from short and sweet pecks to loud and cute smooches, to more sensual and wet ones, especially when he reaches the skin of your neck. At this point, you can’t help but raise your hands to his hair and grip the short length of it just like you promised to show him. He lets out what sounds like a moan in the croak of your neck, but you think you must’ve imagined it as you can’t really hear much over the sound of your beating heart, the blood furiously pumping in your ears.

You know you’re enjoying this way too much, and for a moment you start to feel dirty again. He’s showering you with love because you’re his best friend, and your head is turning something so pure into nasty thoughts.

It’s not the first time he has smothered your face in kisses, maybe not to this extent, but you guys haven’t seen each other in weeks, so it only makes sense why he’s reacting to your closeness in such a way.

That’s until he sucks on the soft spot behind your ear and takes the lobe between his teeth to pull the skin. The way his name comes out from your mouth, breathless and whiny, makes him weak in the knees.

He’s gonna turn all your wet dreams into reality. You just need to say the word and he’s gonna give you what you deserve and more.

His nose is now bumping against yours, mouth pressing between the space above your cupid’s bow, the corner of your mouth, the bottom of it. Your lips graze each other every time he moves along. At this point, he has kissed every inch of your face except for the mouth. You know that would be taking it a step too far. The already thin lines of friendship between the two of you would blur to a point of no return.

At least on your part; you know Ran doesn’t shy away from human touch as you do, so it might not carry the same weight for him, you’re nearly sure of it.

You can’t possibly know how wrong you are, because as you’re thinking that, Ran is holding himself back from closing the space between you.

He has been dying to kiss you for years, since the first time you offered to braid his hair for him.

“What did you dream of?” he whispers, gruff voice scratching a part of your brain that you didn’t think existed as his hot breath washes over you, only inches away.

“Uhm, I… I don’t really remember.”

“You’re not a good liar, princess,” his mouth moves closer to your ear, trailing on the soft skin on his way there, as one of his hands grasps the fat of your left thigh and hooks it over his hipbone. “What was I doing that made you wet? Did you touch yourself because of me? Tell me.”

You know that if you could see yourself from the outside right now you’d laugh at how red your face probably is, but there’s nothing to laugh about how firm Ran’s voice is when giving orders. It might’ve sounded like he was teasing you before, but he’s being completely serious now. And you’d never dare disobey Ran when he gets like this.

“I- You were eating me out,” you gulp, your throat lets you heave the words out with difficulty. “It was either that or… some other nights, you’d do more.”

So it’s multiple dreams, different nights. Ran’s grip on you tightens, “Did you touch yourself?” He repeats the question, eyes dark and attentive, as if he’s dying to know. As if he can’t picture it in his head without you guiding him through it. Fuck it, you think.

“I did, used my vibrator-“You can’t even finish your sentence because Ran is grasping your other leg and lifting you up in the air. You circle his neck with your arms and hold on tight in fear of him dropping you, but his strength makes it seem like he’s barely breaking a sweat.

“Fuck, can I kiss you? I’m dying to taste you.”

It takes you some time to elaborate on his desperate plea, but once you do, you consent enthusiastically, “Yeah? Yes!“

The moment your lips meet, it’s like nothing else matters in the world. Ran is kissing you, his lips are moving over yours with expertise. He starts slow and deepens it to the point you have to push him away slightly to regain your breath.

Sometime during the kisses that come after, Ran has you up against the wall. He runs the tip of his tongue over the seam of your mouth, but you don’t open it straight away to pay him back for all his usual teasing. That’s until he presses his hips against yours, and you feel his hardness rubbing on you.

“Oh my god, fuck, Ran.” He takes your surprise as an opportunity to tangle his tongue with yours. You moan in his mouth, and he groans back, parting just enough to let you know what he needs, “I want you so bad, pretty girl.”

You buck into him as if asking for more and bite his lip before letting it go, watching as it falls back into place.

Ran laughs at that, starting a trail of kisses from your puffy lips all the way to your exposed collarbones. He knows you’re not wearing a bra, you don’t sleep in them. The first thing he noticed when he stepped foot inside your apartment tonight is how your nipples were perked up against the cotton of the shirt. He also knows the only thing covering your bottom is a pair of panties. Keeping this in mind, he sends you a look while reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt, as if asking for permission.

You nod and he frees you of it, chunking it somewhere behind his frame. He’s holding you up with his hips alone, navel pressed tightly against yours. That’s so fucking hot.

His hands make a b-line to your breasts, squeezing them to get a feel, and the motion is as pleasurable to you as it is for him, making his cock jump in his pants. You can feel his length twitching and it’s driving you crazy.

“Please-“ Your voice breaks the moment Ran puts you back down, you struggle to keep yourself on your feet and watch as he bends to bite at one of your nipples.

“Oh my god, yes,” he’s twisting the other with his fingers, and regretfully leaves them behind as he moves in a downward path over your body. He’s so close to your heat that he can smell your arousal, and when he casts his eyes toward your mound, he sees the wet patch staining your panties.

“Is this because of me?” a slap on your covered cunt follows his question. He knows already, you’ve made it clear, but he wants to hear you say it.

“Yes, yeah, Ran, baby. It’s all because of you.”

He thinks you must be already pretty out of it, because you’re not usually this straightforward when it comes to sex, in front of him at least. He heard how dirty you can get when talking about it with other friends, so he’s happy he’s found the key to open you up to him, literally.

It’s after your nth confirmation that Ran decides to grasp the side of your cotton panties and slowly drag them down your quivering legs. Both of you still can’t believe this is happening. You’re about to satisfy his every craving, and he’ll make sure to do the same for you.

Ran is on his knees, staring up at your body as if it’s a piece of art that has moved something inside of him. His admiring gaze is pushing all of your shyness and insecurities to leave you. His making you feel comfortable while being so exposed and vulnerable is exactly why you fell in love with him in the first place.

The weight of a peck being stamped on the inner skin of your thigh is what you feel before your body starts being covered in kisses. He’s raising to his full height while doing so, and the last one he gives you is on your forehead, just like the first of the night.

“I need you, Ran.”

Everything is still around the two of you, in the silence of the night you can hear the deep breath he takes. You lean forward to kiss the tattoo peeking from the collar of his dress shirt.

The hanafuda is a bright reminder of the life he has selfishly involved you in, and for a second he rethinks his next move, but you quickly realize he’s getting into his head and raise on your tippy toes to kiss his pink lips.

“Take me to bed, Ran. Don’t make me beg.”

You’ve told him multiple times that you can take care of yourself, and you know that where you can’t on your own he’s gonna be there to save you. You believe him, and he has to do the same when you tell him that he’s not gonna get rid of you that easily.

“You’re gonna beg either way,” he promises with a sneaky smile as he grabs your ass in his hands, making you straddle his hips as he carries you to your bedroom.

More kisses are being shared between the two of you during the short way, and he can barely tear himself from you as he lays you on your mattress.

You think he’s reaching into your bedside table for condoms but what he finds is even better: your pink vibrator. He looks at it as if he’s discovered gold. When he orders you to take it and use it on yourself, you realize he wants to watch. He wants to recreate what you’ve so cutely told him you’ve been doing for the past few weeks while thinking about him. Ran wants to see for himself.

He stands at the foot of the bed while you tease your entrance with the bullet vibrator, collecting your wetness to make it glide more easily over your clit. You keep your legs spread to give him a show, watching as he pays you back by removing piece by piece of clothing.

His full-body tattoo reveals itself to your greedy eyes. You’ve seen it multiple times, but have never gotten to take it in all together.

You’re panting, reaching your slit with one of your fingers as your opening clenches around nothing under his lust-filled gaze. “Hold it,” his deep voice tells you, and you follow his instruction, regretfully so.

“Keep it spread fo’ me.” You spread yourself open with two fingers, bucking up to chase the sensation of your vibrator. “Fuck, such a good girl fo’ me. Doing anything I tell her.” He grasps his hardness over the cloth of the boxers, the grey fabric sticking to his skin and forming a wet patch where his precome is leaking.

He strokes himself a couple of times before removing the last piece of clothing on his body, finally letting you see the place where his tattoo connects, but most importantly his cock.

It’s so pretty, lengthy, and a girth that would scare you if it weren’t for how long you’ve been dreaming of this moment. It bobs between his legs as he crawls over the bed to you and the pink on its head is glistening, you wish you could clean it up with your tongue right now.

You think he must also have an oral fixation because the moment he reaches you and settles between your open legs he chunks the vibrator to the side of the bed to cover your wetness with his mouth.

Curious tongue running over the mess you made, the sounds he’s making giving away how much he’s enjoying getting a taste.

“Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this. You taste like heaven, princess.” He’s raising as he mutters the words. He takes one look at your withering figure from above, before letting a glob of spit fall on your cunt.

Ran bends and goes right back in, the muscles on his shoulders moving along as his hands come up to hold your thighs open before you can crush his head, you can already feel the bruises from the tight grip forming on the skin.

It’s like the wet dreams that have been plaguing your mind ever since he cut his hair have finally turned into reality. His shorts locks are peeking from between your thighs and you’re gripping them for dear life as he feasts on you, mouth sucking around your clit and lilac eyes peeking from below your mound with a stare so intense that you can feel your legs trembling from that alone.

When his fingers join in the fun you feel yourself getting closer, he’s moving them in a come hither motion and hitting your spot just right. He’s not building up momentum or taking his time in opening you up, that’s how desperate he is. Two of them are fucking into you quickly and with precision, while his dexterous tongue flicks your bundle of nerves.

“Ran, fuck, you look so good between my legs,” You can feel him smirking against you, the boost of ego you know he needs to get him right where you want him.

“I’m gonna cum, plea– please, don’t stop.” The problem is that Ran doesn’t exactly like being told what to do, and he’s being greedy now. He has waited too long to have you, he can’t possibly wait anymore.

He stops his movements, triggering a cry on your part. You nearly kick him with one of your feet but he’s fast enough to move to the edge of the bed, sitting in front of the full-length mirror that covers your wardrobe and conveniently faces the mattress.

You stare at him, spread legs and hard length resting on his lower abdomen as he settles reclined on the palm of his hands. “Come sit on my cock.”

You’re facing his back, laying down on the bed still, and from your position you get to admire the tattoo on his back, and how his muscles flex beneath the skin every time he moves. His body is as sinful as it can be, he drips sex and makes you want to mold yourself to him and never let go. It has always scared you, this pull he has on you, but now he’s the one inviting you over. It’s not the time to shy away.

He’s watching you from the reflection in the mirror as you get up. Your naked body is to him like a tall glass of water after weeks without drinking, he feels like he would die right here, right now, if you were to walk away without letting him have a sip.

Even his wet dreams – yes, you’re not the only one fantasizing about your best friend – don’t compare to the sight of you standing in front of his spread legs looking down at him.

“Uh nah, turn around pretty,” he prompts when he sees you’re about to straddle his lap. He enjoys the sight of you doing whatever he tells you to without even having to touch your body, and he stores that information inside a little drawer in his head for later.

You finally sit down, sliding against his hot skin until you’re resting only half of your weight on his thighs. His cock is now sandwiched between your bodies, and he groans when your asscheeks rub against it while you are wiggling onto him purposely.

“I said sit on my cock, I want you on top of it.”

You’re about to fuck your best friend, it doesn’t seem real. Should the two of you even be doing this? This will change everything forever, there would be no going back from it.

You know that once he’s gonna slide inside you you won’t be able to look at any other man ever again. You barely do now, anyway.

Your right hand goes under you to grasp his length, the angle is uncomfortable but you make it work enough to give him a few pumps. His girth feels hot in your hold, and you bring it to your opening to tease yourself with his wet tip.

“Fuck baby, don’t tease me.” The reflection in the mirror shows his tensed body in all his glory, and you get a glimpse of his hands buried in the sheets, he’s gripping the fabric so tight you think blood might’ve stopped flowing.

Ran is trying not to buck up into you, he’s giving you time to adjust to his size, and you realize how needed it is when you finally lower yourself on it.

You’re watching the scene unfold in the mirror, how his cock is slowly sinking inside of you. The stretch leaves you with a burning feeling and when you nearly reach his base you realize how full you are. All your bumps and ridges are being deliciously stroked by his skin.

Your lips fall open in a pant and Ran is groaning right by your ear as he straightens his posture and bends slightly over your body. “I’ve been dreaming of this for years,” he confesses while his hands grasp the fat of your thighs, spreading you to him as he loops your legs over his, keeping them open just like that with his knees.

He can’t believe his eyes when he gets to fully glimpse how far he’s stretching your cunt with his cock. All the patience in the world wouldn’t help him hold back anymore.

He bucks up into you, having you take his cock down to the base. You let out a shriek at how big he feels inside, and after that, he starts moving. Being on top made you, at first, feel like you could be in control, but it seems like the orders he was barking at you weren’t the only thing he was planning on doing on his part.

Ran starts pounding into you from below, strong thighs helping him in bucking up. You’re being split open on his cock and he’s enjoying the show. The sound of skin slapping against skin is so sinful, but your eyes are now closed in pleasure as you’re reduced to nothing but a moaning mess. His thrusts are so powerful that it takes you very little time to lose your mind.

He’s calling for you, you can hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your ear after you slumped against his bigger body, resting your leaned-back head on the crook of his neck. “Mhmh, open your eyes, pretty girl,” like the good girl you are, you do as said, even if you’re struggling to keep them open when his thrusts don’t let up, but instead seem to be getting deeper every time you do something he asks of you right.

He grabs your chin with his thumb and pointer, redirecting your line of sight towards the mirror, where you can see his heavy balls slap over your glistening skin from below. “Look at how much you’re dripping, that’s how I slid in so quickly.” You whimper at that, Ran always had a way with words that could get to you even when nothing of sorts was being said, always the teasing one, but now that he’s running his mouth with all these dirty thoughts you can’t help but be even more affected than usual.

“You take my cock like a pro, mh. You like it, don’t you, my pretty little slut? Oh, I just know you’re loving this. Bet your little vibrator couldn’t make you feel this good.”

He’s pressing down on your belly, making the pressure on your navel feel ten times more intense, and all you can focus on is how he’s spreading you open. “It’s so big Ran- Ah,” he thinks your words are gonna get to his head. He has to keep a solid grip on you not to melt at your praise, “Fuck Ran, please, please baby.”

“What is it that you want, use your words.”

“I wanna come, pleasee, I need it so bad,” He loves how polite you are, asking for it with a please. He’d give it to you no matter what, but he appreciates how much you’re trying for him. He knows you can get a little hot-headed, or maybe he just found that one field where you finally succumb and let others take care of you.

Ran reaches over to the forgotten toy and switches it back on before placing it over your neglected and pulsating clit. He never had anything against sex toys, he doesn’t see the harm in using them to bring more pleasure to his partners. He knows you could come from his cock alone, but he needs to feel you gushing around him right about now, before he loses it. He wants to see you dripping to the ground before he fills you up to the brim.

You grasp a handful of his hair and pull it without shame as he fucks you with abandon while rubbing your clit with the vibrating toy. He has to hold your thigh open with one of his big hands because you keep clenching your muscles, and he needs to watch as you come undone.

“Fuuck,” you’re cursing loudly, without a care for your poor neighbors who must be going crazy with the loud noises at such a late hour.

Ran is hitting all the right places, he’s prodding and searching all over your body like he needs to study it, to learn it, and knowing him and how attentive he is, you’re sure that the next time it will take him half of the time to get you there. Or maybe he’ll use his knowledge to drag it out like the teasing little shit he is.

But who said anything about a next time? You’re not even sure as to why the two of you have fallen into bed together, but what you know with certainty is that you’re perception of Ran has shifted the moment he cut his hair.

It might be crazy, ruining a years-long friendship over something so trivial, but it’s like your best friend Ran was the one with the braids, and the one you’re sitting on top of, who’s kissing your neck and whispering sweet praises in your ear, who’s bulkier and more charming and wears purple striped suits, is someone else entirely, but someone that you love all the same.

You’ll always cherish your braided Ran as your friend, but this older version of him will not be able to live inside your mind while battling your feelings as you’ve always done.

The man in the mirror looks at you with lust, but under all of that is the shade of his unchanging lavender hues, the ones who have been staring at you with unnamed affection for years. Maybe it’s time to let go of that uncertainty and fall into him once and for all.

“Ran, I’m gonna come.” He’s so good at reading your body already that he doesn’t stop, he just forgoes the vibrator opting to massage your clit with his thumb, spreading you open with two fingers, while his other hand reaches your boobs. He knows how sensitive they are, he remembers you telling him once, and that’s why he has avoided touching them until now.

His fingers alternate pinching and pulling at the erected nipples, and his hand grasps the entirety of your left beast to pull you down as you try to fight his thrusting and press you onto him.

He noses at your cheek, inviting you to meet him for a kiss. It’s a deep one, with tongues entangling and teeth bumping against each other, he has to rein you in as you’re panting and mumbling.

You don’t have the strength to speak anymore, but Ran knows the exact moment you dangle and trip over the edge because you squeeze him so tight he lets out a string of curses.

He feels you gushing around him, the squelch of wetness becoming even more loud making his cheeks tint red. He’s never been shy when it comes to sex, but the way he’s fucking you now it’s so nasty that he can’t believe how you’re letting him. His sweet girl.

Now that you’ve come on his cock, he slows down his hips to avoid overstimulating you, and he helps you regain your breathing as he kisses your cheek, “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Mh- Fuck,” Your cunt is squeezing him so hard, coherent thoughts are slowly leaving his mind in favor of you. Nothing else matters now but you.

Ran has to gather all of his remaining strength to slip from you and lay you down on your white sheets. Big eyes are looking up at him as he just hung the moon and the stars, and from his position, he gets to watch your face contort in pleasure as he slides right back inside your wet heat.

“Ran-“ “I know, baby.” Your nails are raking down his chest, red marks showing up on the untattooed side of his body. Your neck is straining as you press the back of your head into the pillow, and he eyes the still unblemished skin before placing his lips on your pulse point, sucking and biting as he goes.

His thrusts are slow but deep, you can feel the heat building up in the pit of your belly all over again. You buck up against him, watching as he lets out moan after moan, getting closer to his end. He sounds so fucking good.

He wants to drag this out, scared of what might come after the both of you come down from your highs, so he pins down the side of your hips with one hand, resting on his hunches as he grasps both of your wrists in the other and raises them over your head.

He’s circling his hips now, rubbing his navel against your clit and relishing in all the pretty noises you’re letting out.

“Pretty girl- can you come fo’ me one more time? You’ve been s’good to me, gimme another. Just one- one more,” Ran’s voice is strangled, he’s trying to hide how much the pulsing of your cunt is affecting him, with very little success. His balls are strained and heavy with cum, he wants you to come around him as paints your walls in white.

You’re moving to break free from his grip but his strength doesn’t let you, so you try begging for him, “Rannn, more! Please, need more, I’m so close- Wanna cum.” You’re whining, sweat running down your body, he looks at how your skin is glistening and wants to lick you up.

Ran has never been able to tell you no, so he moves the hand that was holding you down to your neck, thumb resting over your pulse as he squeezes enough to make you feel it. His hips resume his thrusting with a purpose.

“Cream on my cock, ‘m gonna fill you up, angel,” and you do just that, on command. Ran thinks you ruined every other woman for him, right there and there. It’s like you were fucking made for him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, babygirl.”

He’s right behind you, mouth parting as he groans and repeats your name like a fucking prayer. You’re arching your back, your chests are pressed together and Ran swears he can hear the sound of your heartbeat as he fills you up with cum.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and eyelids fighting to stay open, his purple eyes are taking you in. Your legs are locked behind his back and his hips keep pressing against yours as he slowly drags out your highs, cum dripping down his thighs as he tries to fuck it back into you.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you manage to let out in surprise after regaining your breath. Ran lets go of you the moment his mind is clearer, and when you feel him slip out from within you, for a moment you’re scared he’s gonna get dressed and leave you laying there.

But Ran just parts your legs before you can close them in shyness, and takes one good look at the mess you’ve both made before diving in. He’s happy he’s gotten to fuck you raw, so now he gets to taste how good you are together.

You’re still so sensitive that when his tongue makes contact with your folds, you tremble. He takes his time in eating it out of you, loud smacks and wet noises can be heard as he does, along with his hums of approval, “Mhh, taste so fucking good, baby. Wanna try?”

You furiously nod at that, dragging him away from your heat before he gets in his head that he needs to make you come again; you don’t think you’d be able to do that now, the overstimulation from those simple touches already taking you to the verge of crying for him.

Ran finally kisses you again, tongue slipping past your lips to make do with his promise, and you moan in appreciation at the taste of you combined. Everything he does is just so fucking hot.

He doesn’t stop once you do, and risks stripping you of your breath completely, but you’re not any better. The last thing you want now is for him to not kiss you anymore, so you grip his infamous hair once again, scratching his scalp with your nails as you’ve always liked doing to get a reaction out of him.

Ran shakes in your hold, he has to pull away or he’s gonna fuck you all over. He can feel himself getting hard against your thigh, so he decides to leave your embrace. He’s aware of the elephant in the room, and his maturity is screaming at him to talk things out before he can fall right back into it.

“Ran… please, don’t leave,” he glances back at you because of the way your voice breaks while muttering that sentence. His heart clenches when he sees your lash line glisten with unshed tears, so his hands find their way to your pretty face to hold it as he stands close to the edge of the bed, bending over you. He kisses the tip of your nose, then takes your mouth in a chaste kiss.

“‘M not going anywhere, my love. Just need to take care of my pretty girl. Give me one minute and I’ll be right back, okay?”

A simple “‘mkay,” leaves your lips in a mumble, and Ran helps remove the sheet from under your spent body to cover you with it before leaving the room.

It takes you a few seconds to elaborate on everything. Aside from what happened in the past hour, you’re now fixating on the names he just called you. My love. My pretty girl.

His? You definitely are, you just didn’t think he knew.

Once he steps back in the room, you notice he’s cleaned himself up and wore his discarded boxers. You take him in while he walks closer, silently appreciating his physique as you’re used to doing. But this time you get to recognize the bruises and red marks littering his body as something you’ve done yourself.

As promised, he’s carrying a wet towel and a bottle of water, and he carefully cleans you up with the former.

After making sure you’re hydrated, he settles by your side under the sheets and drapes his arms around your waist as both of you lay on your respective sides, facing one another.

“I was planning on giving you a gift, after the party was over, y’know? But you just had to run away,” he lets out a big sigh, as if thinking back to your fight makes him drained all over again.

“What is it?” You ask, as curious as always. He loves this side of you. He loves you, actually.

“I gave Rin one of my braids after I cut them off. I was thinking about giving you the other one,” your eyes widen, and the movement of your fingers running over his collarbone stops as you ponder over his words. “I know how much you like them, so did I. Want my two favorite people to keep them safe for me.”

Your heart has never beaten this fast, you think it might start overheating and set your whole body on fire. You bat your eyelashes, willing the tears away as you hook your hands under his face, gently stroking his jaw.

“Thank you,” is the last thing you whisper before closing the distance, repaying him with another short but sweet kiss.

When you separate, you lean your forehead against his and he softly calls your name. In the closeness of your embrace, you meet his lavender haze, “I love you.”

The only thing that follows his sentence is silence. You think you must’ve fallen asleep, this has to be another one of your dreams, one of those sweet ones you used to have when Ran still had his braids and the two of you were younger.

Ran could easily take your stillness as an answer. He could fall victim to his hidden insecurities and make you think he meant it in a platonic way to somewhat try and save what remains of your friendship. But he knows that no matter what your response to his confession might be, he wouldn’t take it back for the world. There’s simply no getting over you.

“Don’t misunderstand,” He knows how much you overthink, that’s why he should’ve said this before. “I’m in love with you, always have been.”

You think your heart must’ve stopped completely now.

“Ran…” “Sh, I know, it’s okay.” He feels the need to comfort you straight away, to let you know that not sharing his feelings is okay. He’s always gonna be there for you, no matter what. “God, Ran, I love you so much.”

The lips that suddenly find his, again and again, are not the only thing taking his breath away. Both of you cannot believe how stupid you are, how you’ve been in love this whole time while thinking the other could never see you that way. His hands are all over your heated skin, caressing down your back as you hold him closer.

“Want you to be mine, baby.”

“‘m yours Ran,” his kisses are spreading everywhere he can reach, he’s getting drunk on you once again. Bitten lips part to let out panting breaths, and you notice soon enough how the newfound confessions are affecting not only yours truly.

Heady eyes and tinted cheeks present themselves to you. You think the marron of his natural blush and the shade of purple staining his pale skin look a lot like the color of the hair that started this all. You love it already, just like you love him.

And Ran lets you happily grip onto it as he takes you again and again, that night. No more wet dreams that leave you running away from him, he’s gonna make sure to fill your nights with something that’ll make you want him even closer, every day, from now on.

Right before falling asleep, as dawn leaves space for daylight behind your closed curtains, you take one last look at your sleepy Ran.

You comb back his messy hair to uncover his pretty face, softly kissing his forehead before falling into a dreamless sleep. There’s no need for dreaming anymore, you have everything you want and need right here in your arms.

Might have to send his hairstylist a bottle of wine as thanks, though.

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fluffylino · 4 months

Text

hyunjin will do anything for your attention (psst maid dress ehe)

-contains mature themes

your eyes landed on your boyfriend who was all dolled up. wearing a flimsy little dress. his milky white thighs exposed even more when he crossed his legs.

ignoring him, you walked into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water. you couldn't help but steal a couple of glances.

he had pretty pink bows in his hair. a cute bell around his neck.

quickly pretending to rinse the glass. when you saw how he quietly walked upto you. sitting himself on the kitchen counter. a few inches away from the sink.

right next to your standing figure.

you simply gave him the cold shoulder, walking right past him to place the glass back on the stand.

he let out an almost inaudible whine and you mentally smiled to yourself.

two days ago. the both of you had an argument.

it was pretty petty. yet you were still giving him the silent treatment. hyunjin had been busy. no doubt. however it always felt like you were the only one putting effort to go on dates with him.

of course he too would also. but it had been 2 weeks since their comeback. and he had a lot of free time. and whatever. the point was, it was mainly you getting annoyed to the extent you didn't pay any attention to him. it was mean. and maybe a bit funny. but you genuinely were a little hurt.

you had stuck a tiny note on the fridge the night before. after he had fallen asleep.

it read :

"i'll only talk to you if you actually try to and make an effort for me to forgive you. i don't care if it embarasses you.

- :] "

he seemed to take it seriously.

in the first 24 hours he bought all your favourite dishes and cooked up some spicy ramyeon. adding an egg on top because thats how you liked it.

of course you ate it. eagerly. not leaving a thing behind. you were annoyed.

but your love for him was still stronger. you couldn't possibly hurt him by not appreciating the effort he took. however you hummed casually. not giving him any response. simply brushing him off like he was non existent.

washing your plate and his before walking away to shower. hyunjin sat at the table, head down.

almost like a attention deprived puppy.

today though was different.

you looking forward to his next attempt.

the tv playing on thr background while you sat on the sofa. not a single thought in your head.

except for the images of your beloved boyfriend in that skimpy dress. not to mention thr fact that he was still loitering around in the kitchen.

you stared at your chipped nail. trying your best to make it seem like you didn't see how he carefully trodded across the room. choosing to sit in the space between your spread legs on the ground.

he sat sideways, long legs awkwardly placed on the floor.

his dress riding up his thighs. just maybe a centimeter more and you'd see his panti-

was he wearing pink lace panties?!?!?

you bit your lip subtly, tilting your head to the side, to peek at what was under his dress.

you were right. he really was all dolled up. not to mention the perfume that radiated off his body.

making you want to pounce on him.

shit you were looking. you averted your gaze so fast you felt dizzy. luckily he was too busy pulling the straps of the outfit up his shoulders to notice.

you could feel his gaze on you. so strong. so captivating. you were sure his lips would be jutting out.

was he wearing your lip gloss??!!!?.

the extra shiny pink shade that you'd only wear on extremely special occassions. damn, you were screwed.

you wanted to take him right there and then.

in the corner of your eye, you could vaguely see him looking up at you.

and you finally spared him a glance when he placed his head on the inside of your thigh. rubbing his cheek affectionately.

Sighing, you rubbed your temples. heart shattering upon seeing the way his expression dropped. eyes growing sadder. and slowly he moved away.

like a kicked puppy who was mistreated and ignored.

"come here" you quickly let out before he could get up. he scrambled up to his knees. elbows digging into your thighs.

"where did you get this?" you asked, carefully tucking a strand of his hair behind.

"online" he mumbled. leaning into your touch.

"m'sorry"

you couldn't stay mad at him. honestly you were fine. just driven by curiousity. "i know" you let out, sitting up to kiss him on his forehead. his eyes still closed as you pulled away. lips parted.

god, he was so cute.

"c-can't i can't hhnggh-" hyunjin cried out. bent over the short table. your strap pushing into him. it was a bigger size. the one that he was begging you to use on him.

"you can." you stated. raising your hand to adjust the cute pink bow that was clipped into his hair. it had come undone.

the sight below you sending waves of pleasure through you. his hole sucking you in.

lube all over his thighs. staining his pretty lace thigh highs. the bows had come undone. hanging down.

his dress pushed up on his back. displaying all his parts to you. dick hanging between his legs. leaking all over the floor.

"you're my pretty maid, aren't you" he panted, shaking his ass onto you. as if agreeing to you.

"y-yes...always at your service"

you smirked, kneading his plush skin. loving the way his lace panties were still on. torn from where you entered him.

"anything for you m-master"

"anything? careful what you wish for baby"

"i can take anything and e-everything you give aahh mhm...m-me"

i wanna write some more...but maybe with j-jisung........?

#hyunjin is so cute #maid dress hyunjin #skz maid dress #stray kids smut #skz smut #hwang hyunjin imagines #hyunjin imagines #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #sub!hyunjin #sub!stray kids #sub!skz #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #skz drabbles #lee know smut #lee minho smut #bang chan smut #fluffylino works

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lalal-99 · 15 days

Text

Kitty’s New Best Friend {l.f.}

113 "Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room." 133 "You're being shy now? Really?" 141 "How many times have you jerked off to me?"

Felix x afab!reader | trope: friends to lovers, roommates | wordcount: 2.4k

Synopsis: When your roommate comes home unexpectedly, he finds you in a compromising position on the living room couch, moaning his name. Fortunetly, he's had a hunch about your feelings for a while, and he's willing to help you out.

Warnings: explicit content | dni if your under 18

Note: I wrote three different version of this over the past two years. This one was the best one, by a mile. Hope you enjoy. Please leave comments, if you want to encourage more content.

Again, thanks @jl-micasea-fics for letting me use your prompts. I know it's been two years, but still, credit where its due :)

Taglist: @skzho @bubblelixie @flakywig @itsallaboutkey @avyskai @mekuiikore @changbiddies0325 @knowleeknow @sensitiveandhungry @svintsandghosts @poutypoutybin @hyunjinswifeee @sunlitwilderness

Tumblr works on a reblog system. Please consider reblogging this post so that it can reach more people.

Please don't flag as mature or repost this story - Thank You!

He didn’t use to appear in your dirty dreams.

Only months ago, you didn’t need to put a face on the main character of your fantasies—the imagination itself enough to get you going.

That had certainly changed.

It could have been Felix sauntering your shared apartment without a shirt one too many times. It could have been the shoulder to cry on he had lent you after your ex. Hell, it could have even been as trivial as a kind smile for no apparent reason.

Your brain simply shut off and your kitty assumed control. Universally deciding that your roommate was a fitting image to get turned on to.

Now, his face made an appearance in every single one of your daydreams.

When Felix emerged from his room in nothing but a pair of loose hanging sweatpants, your mind went right back to it. It was ridiculous. You didn’t even listen to where he went off to, your fingers already running over his creamy skin in your mind. You felt like a teenager, arousal taking over you the second Felix left the apartment.

None of your other roommates were home which was fortunate. Sure, you could have gone to your bedroom to be safe. But how could you, when the heat reached you right there in the living room. Like it had happened in the shower a few days ago after Felix had sneaked in to get his lotion. You had told him you didn’t mind when in reality, you did. Just not in the way he might have thought.

That day and in your following fantasy, he hadn’t left, but instead joined you under the hot water.

Humming Felix’s name at the sound of your fingers running through your folds, you internally scolded yourself for thinking this way about him. A boy who was so innocently oblivious, he probably had no idea you even jerked off in the first place. Someone so sweet, he brought you candy when you were on your period, brewed you tea after a long day, or gave you massages when... Well, whenever you wanted one.

You were completely immersed in the scenario you had set up in your head, knot in your stomach tightening. So much so your brain took a second too long to recognise the familiar sound of his keys.

Things went very fast from there.

The door opened and Felix walked in to the sight of you. Rushing your hand out of your shorts, your neckline was red from the heat, your hair messier than when he had left. Mere minutes earlier.

“Felix? What the hell are you doing here?” you questioned, shock written on your features. “I thought you went out.”

“I—“ He scanned the situation and before you could stop him, he figured it out. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “I went to get some snacks for the movie.”

Oh yes! The memory of your short conversation suddenly came back to you.

Felix had come out of his room, shirtless, recognising the movie playing on the TV in front of you. He had asked you to pause it, so you could watch it together once he came back from the store. Getting you snacks and a bottle of your favourite white, like the perfect roomie he was.

“Were you…” A smirk appeared on Felix’s face as his view wandered down your body to your pants. “Either I’m insane, or you were just masturbating in our living room.” Noticing your eyes shifting and your cheeks reddening in the light of the TV, he yelped. “Oh my God, you were masturbating, weren’t you?”

You struggled finding another excuse that could explain your hands down your pants. Not that it mattered, anyway. Nothing you said, no explanation you could have given, would get your roommate to believe he hadn’t just walked in on you.

Felix placed the grocery bag on the kitchen counter and strode over to the couch, sliding on next to you. The shit-eating grin on his face only heightened your embarrassment. Not so innocent after all, now that he held something over your head.

“Stop being so smug. It’s not like you don’t do it.” You scratched an invisible itch on your neck.

“But I don’t do it out here where everyone can walk in. Do you have no shame?” Felix was teasing you now, the previously cutesy behaviour shifting. You couldn’t quite pinpoint his demeanour, but it almost seemed seductive. Like, he was definitely flirting, and not in his usual, sweet way. If his next words were anything to go by, it felt even more so. “Or did you want me to walk in on you?”

You almost choked on your saliva. “What? No! Of course not.”

The redness on your face darkened further.

Why would he ever suggest that you had masturbated out in the living room on purpose? Unless… Maybe, subconsciously, you had done just that. Perhaps you wanted to make use of the possibility, him walking in on you. So he could finally help you scratch the itch himself. Not his imaginary self, but the real one, in all his glory. Could your brain have betrayed you like that, without you noticing?

You didn’t quite know what to think.

“It’s fine. I won’t tell anyone about this.” Somehow, that relieved you. Not like you had expected Felix to go around, gloating about it. It still relaxed you to hear it from the man himself. “I only have one question, then we can stop talking about it. Forever.”

Your jaw dropped at his words. So he was blackmailing you now, too? Felix, out of all people. Nice Felix, who never hurt a fly. Cute Felix, whose love language were hugs and cuddles. Smug Felix, who somehow had the upper hand right now.

Your kitty purred at his intrigue, surprising even yourself.

“How many times have you jerked off to me?”

You must have had a mini heart attack at that very second. Unfortunately, you didn’t land in heaven. If anything, this was hell.

“What?”

“You heard me,” Felix replied, bottom lip wandering between his teeth. “And I heard you, moaning my name before. So, how often do you think about me?”

“I don’t— I didn’t— I mean— What?” You were sweating now, unable to form simple sentences. And that was before his hand landed on your naked thigh, squeezing. That’s when you lost the ability to breathe, stomach tensing.

“You’re being shy now? Really?” As his fingers drew figure eights onto your skin, they wandered further up your leg until he reached the hem of your shorts. He played with the band, keeping his irises on you, and your kitty hissed. His proximity was a dangerous game. “What if I told you, I’ve been thinking about it, too?”

What. The. Fuck?

He leaned in, lips close enough to feel his breath on you, and you got dizzy. You didn’t remember drinking any alcohol, but you damn well felt like it. As though you had gotten intoxicated, high, and now you were left to deal with the aftermath.

“Been thinking about you so much. Taking you in your room. In the shower. On this very couch. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His fingers entered your pants, playing with the hem of your underwear. Your breath hitched when his hand cupped you, smirk so close to your face you could hear it. Felix clicked his tongue when he felt your wetness. “I knew it. Not so shy now, are we?”

And you weren’t. Shy, that was. Overwhelmed, sure. Embarrassed, yes. But not shy. Not when you detected the tent in his own sweatpants. Felix wanted this, just like you. Felix was your roommate, best friend and now, potential lover. If anything, you felt most comfortable around him.

The feeling heightened when he gave you a gentle push, urging you to lay back. Felix’s face remained so close to yours, eyes glued to each other as he situated himself above you. His fingers started teasing as he leaned down, faintly pressing his lips to your pulse point. Your eyes stood wide open, searching the ceiling for possible answers to the one question you had.

How the fuck had this happened?

Felix kissed down your body, through the valley of your chest and over your tank top. Right down to your shorts. He must have been able to smell you, but you didn’t care. It was Felix, after all, the boy straight out of your dreams.

“Y/N,” his soft voice called you to catch your attention. When you met his gaze, the world stopped for a moment. The lust had momentarily vanished from his irises and what overtook was care and love. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

“Don’t.” Your answer couldn’t have come faster, and you meant it. Under no circumstances did you want him to stop. Ever.

With that, the primate inside him gained back control, ridding you of your pants and underwear. All the while, Felix’s stare remained on your face, smiling between kisses he planted on your naked stomach. As though he wanted to capture all your focus and wouldn’t let you divert your eyes for anything.

A last smile sent your way and he dove in.

Your mouth stood agape as you watched him, connect his mouth to your clit, lightly sucking. You spread your legs so he could slot between them, and slot, he did. Key fitting in a lock, he kept your knees apart with his body, the whole couch becoming your playground.

Felix nibbled on your clit like it was sweet candy, gazes locked as his tongue came into play. Prodding, exploring. He looked sinful, like a devilish angle as his blonde locks tickled your bare thighs. A fucking dream-come-true, in the most literal sense.

Licking down your folds, he tasted you, humming in delight. His own personal five course meal.

Early on, you had been taught to never eat with your hands. That it was rude and crude, and ill-mannered. When Felix did it, it was nothing if not delicious. To watch, to hear, his fingers spreading you and entering in soft, gentle strokes.

Soon enough, he was three fingers in, knuckles-deep, petting the sensitive spot so deep you never reached it yourself. And there he was, doing it with so much ease, over and over. Kitty’s new best friend.

For a moment, you lost control, throwing your head back with a loud moan. When Felix squeezed your thigh, gently but determined, you brought your head back.

“Eyes on me, Kitten.”

A whimper at the nickname made him smirk as he scissored you open. His tongue prodded against your opening in sync, delightful as your stomach tensed.

“Oh, fuck—” You brought your hand to his head, tangling your fingers in his hair. Guiding him, at least as much as he let you. “Please.”

Cocking his head, Felix teased you, playfully confused by your words.

“Please, I need you. Inside. Please.”

With one last calm suck on your nub, he snaked his way up your body. Fingers remained inside you for now, distracting you.

“But I already am. You have to be more specific, Kitten.”

You clenched at the words, and he visibly noticed.

“Your cock. I need you inside me. Please, Felix.” If those words hadn’t driven him crazy already, persuading him, your next ones sure did. “Kitten needs your cock.”

He groaned, fingers coming up to touch your lips. You opened them, licking over his moist rings and he lost himself in the sight. “Such crude words for such a cute Kitten.”

Smearing the last of your essence over your mouth, he began licking it off, taking his sweet time. And then finally, after he had already done much more intimate, he kissed you. Careful and collected turned to desperate and chaotic as tongues melted into one.

Kissing Felix was natural, like you had done it so many times before. And you would have continued doing it, if it hadn’t been for the more pressing issues.

When you bucked up into him, rubbing your naked crotch against his clothed one, he smirked into the kiss. “Eager Kitten.”

“Desperate,” you corrected, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him into you.

Felix drew away to rid himself of his shirt, kneeling on top of you. It must have been the hottest thing you had ever been lucky enough to witness. As he untied the knot in his sweats, your sight remained on his toned torso. Sculptured abs followed a set of muscular pecs and his prominent collar bones. You wanted to kiss every inch of his body, wanted to lick it and bite it, too. That was if he let you.

But not right now. Not when all you wanted was for him to devour you like his favourite desert.

Like the absolute menace he was, Felix tugged the hem of his sweats down, revealing the absence of underwear. And to think he walked around the apartment like that, unsucked. It was a real shame.

He stroked himself a couple of times, the other hand running through his messy locks. An undeniable God in human form.

You might have even been drooling, but before you could check, he hovered over you again. “Like what you see?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, curling upwards to connect your lips again.

With your legs still around his hips, it was easy for Felix to position himself. Your walls were clenching already, craving penetration. Some relief. Anything. It didn’t actually matter, as long as it was Felix doing it.

“You know,” he mumbled between kisses, tugging at your lip. It was in that moment, as he was so close, that you noticed the desire in his eyes. But it wasn’t just desire, but so much more. Adoration. Longing. Attraction. Love. “If you had told me about your secret from the start, we could have done this months ago.”

How he had come to know about your infatuation? You had no head to figure it out right that moment.

“However, we do have a lot to make up for. Better get to it, right?”

When Felix slid into you, your eyes rolled back into your head as your breath got caught in your lungs. Finally, after months of distanced yearning, he scratched the same itch that had plagued you for so long.

And your kitty was satisfied at last.

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todomochi-uwu · 6 months

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Who (1/?) -J.Y & S.M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

"Mingi, please. I think we should talk; I don't feel good and…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm tired."

You are always tired these days…

"Yunho, love do you want to go out and check out that new cafeteria? I heard they have…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm busy."

You are always busy these days...

Things haven't been the same in a while, always in a rush, always in a mood. You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you. It was a type of routine you had grown accustomed to, and even if it was killing you inside, the idea of being without them was way worse than the pain of their neglect. Cold, endless nights laying in a bed that was way too big for you; tasteless dinner plates that would end up in the trashcan or at the back of the fridge rotting. A home that was crumbling from its foundations, one that you had so desperately tried to patch up and fix by yourself. But in the end, you just had to face the cruel reality, that they don't care. You were not a priority; your relationship was at the bottom of their list.

That's how you ended up at Chan's apartment, in the middle of the night, with so much as your phone in your pocket and your heart in your hand. He had been your main support the last weeks, anything you wanted, anything you needed, no questions asked. Whenever you woke up crying, whenever you broke down in the middle of the day, Chan was always there to comfort you. And so, you laid there, in his chest, the aftermath of a movie night in which you had only cried twice, an important milestone.

The constant buzzing in the pocket of your pyjamas was making it quite hard for you to continue sleeping. You knew exactly who dared bother you so late at night, it had been the same callers every single night for the past month.

"Don't answer it." Chan's groggy voice filled your ears. He was right. You declined the call and turned off your phone.

But said-call had already done its job, you couldn't stop thinking about the phone, well the people behind it. Your phone was full of texts and missed calls, eight people behind them, because their friends were loyal like that.

They are so sorry.

Please talk to them.

Yunho is drowning himself in work.

Mingi doesn't even talk to us.

Funny it is. A few weeks ago, it seemed they could live perfectly fine without you; they could go on with their day without even glancing your way. You gave them every single piece of your being just to get crumbles in return. But at the same time, your heart is weak, it can’t help but break every time you read one of their texts, wondering if they miss you that much, if they are sorry, if maybe, just maybe, you should go back.

“Y/n… you are overthinking again.” Bang Chan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I know, I just feel bad, Chan. Maybe I overreacted, maybe if I tried a bit harder to talk to them…” There you were again, trying to justify their actions. Chan gave you the same stern look he had been giving you for weeks, every time you blamed yourself.

He got up, not mentioning the subject anymore. Tired of going on about the same subject, “Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something or we can order in.”

It would be a lie to say you were not enjoying Chan’s presence. Having someone to talk to, someone to have a meal with, even someone who sits next to you without being on their phone or computer, you miss not feeling alone. And even though you were heartbroken, you felt warm on the inside.

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

While you might be doing somewhat okay, the other parts of your relationship were not. The house was in complete silence, no matter the hour, no matter the day, no one would dare say a word, their mouths too busy sobbing every single time they remembered their sins, taking you for granted, neglecting you, breaking you.

Yunho would keep himself busy at the hospital, the idea of going back to a broken home simply made him nauseous, and even if the lack of food and the stress were killing him, he much rather endure that than face the harsh truth. Mingi wasn’t any better, endless nights spent in the office, acting as if he was reviewing cases, but the reality was that he just wanted a place to cry without anyone noticing him. Even the love between them was running cold. Fight after fight, they spat cruel words and thoughts trying to get all the hurt and anger out of their chests, blaming themselves, blaming each other. How did they not notice things were so wrong? How could they let things get so wrong?

“Oh, don’t act as if I'm the only one who wasn’t here, you slept at the office almost every day. I came home late, but you didn’t even come at all.” Yunho said, venom in his voice and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Mingi scratched his forehead in frustration, he could feel the bile going up his throat. “Forgive me for trying to pay the bills, someone has to pay for the house, the student loans, the fucking food that’s on the table.”

“Fuck off, don’t you dare say I’m not bringing any money. Besides, you know that this is temporary while I finish my residency…”

And there the cycle began once again, a screaming match of arguments that never went anywhere, masking the true cause of their pain. Tears ran down their faces, their voices broke down more and more with each word they let out, Yunho's body trembled so much it hurt, while Mingi’s chest felt as if it was about to explode.

“I’m not okay, Yunho.” It was the first time any of them said it out loud, his voice was much raspier and heavier than the usual one.

“I'm not either, Mingi.” He whispered, fearing he would break down even more if he admitted it much louder.

“She left three weeks ago.”

Yunho could only nod.

“She’s not coming back, is she?”

“I don’t know, Mingi.”

#yunho angst #yunho smut #yunho x reader #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi angst #jeong yunho #song mingi #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez

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goldengalore · 17 days

Text

Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles oneshot #anxious!reader #my writing

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smutzslxt · 4 months

Text

I WANT YOU TO TOUCH ME THERE| S.Gojo x fem!reader

ꨄSynopsis:Everyone thought that Satoru Gojo was a good looking man with a flawless personality ,but you knew that wasn’t true.That man hates you and you don’t even know why, but you are about to find out.

ꨄpairing: Bully!Satoru x popular-fem!reader

ꨄWC: 2001

ꨄrated: mature ,18+,mdni

ꨄCW: Heavy smut, dom!fem!reader x sub!gojo, dick riding, characters are 18+,p in v,semi public sex (in a changing room),pet names (Angel,good boy,Whore), getting caught.

ꨄA/N :we all love submissive satoru, right?

Whenever people tell you how great Satoru Gojo is , you just roll your eyes. Nothing was great about this idiot maybe he looked good, but he was an ignorant, eogoistic asshole.

You didn’t like him, but don’t worry, the feeling is mutual. Whenever your eyes meet each other, they shine full of hatred that you had for each other.

Whenever he had the opportunity, he embarrassed you, he ‘accidentally’ spills his drink over your white blouse, he bumps into you whenever he had a chance and the worst…he spreads rumors about you.

These rumors endangered your popularity rank. Every time you enter school there are new rumors about you.” Have you heard it, people say she got fingered by someone in class”

What nonsense, you thought when you walked through the hallway. Every time you walked past people, they started whispering.” People say she has given someone a blowjob in the toilet a week ago”

Your eyes found those of the students who were 1-2 younger than you.So how dare these nobodies to talk about you this way.

“Do you have anything to tell me?” You said when you put yourself in front of the anxious girl. She looked at her friend who seemed just as intimidated as she was. How pathetic.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and didn’t even dare to look at you. “Who do you think you are to spread rumours about me“Again and again you were in the same situation.

People talk about you ,behind your back, and then they don’t even dare to open their mouths in front you. Your hands clenched into fists as you felt all the looks of other students on you.

“Who told you this stupid rumor?” It was actually already clear who it was. You just wanted to hear it from her mouth. The other rumors were more harmless but to tell around that you were fingered in class or that you have given someone a blowjob in the school toilet simply crosses the line.

“A boy from the upper class he has white hair and blue eyes”Satoru Gojo this stupid jerk. Anger spread in your body and a layer of goose bumps formed on your skin when you imagined what you are going to do with this blue-eyed motherfucker now.

“If I find out again that you’re telling rumors about me again, it gets very unpleasant between us, do you understand?” The hasty nod of the intimidated girl was like a start signal for you.

You sprint along the hallway in search of the boy who called himself the strongest. The anticipation of hurting his big ego caused the corners of your mouth to rise.

A loud ringing sounded through the corridors and then you finally saw something - or rather someone who could help you find your prey.

“Suguru” you shouted loudly through the brightly lit room. Like on command, he turned in your direction, just like other students who looked at you questionably but that didn’t interest you at all right now.

With a quick step, you walked towards your bully’s best friend and stood right in front of him.You skillfully ignored personal space at the moment you stood on your toes to be on an equal footing with him.

“Is there anyone else inside?” You asked and pointed your thumb at the changing room.” Only Satoru, but I had no more nerves to sit in there while he looks at himself in the mirror”

An insidious grin formed on your face. The success of finally standing up to him was so close you could feel it.” I’m going for a smoke and waiting for the idiot, do you want to keep me company for so long?”

In contrast to Gojo, Suguru was always nice to you, sometimes you even spent time together but you were disturbed by Satoru every time.

You don’t really know what happened, but you also got along well, but at some point he just started to hate you and you just couldn’t find out the reason why he did.

“I still have to do something”Geto nodded and said goodbye to you.” See you tomorrow,” he said and waved one last time before he made his way to the exit.

Your eyes searched through the hallway and when you didn’t see anyone, you opened the door to the changing rooms and huried in.

“What the hell” you heard a very well-known voice whispering behind you when you quietly closed the door behind you. “What are you doing here?” The white-haired egoist asked you as your eyes stared at each other.

To think about standing up to Satoru and then really putting it into action is a very big difference ,you just realised.

“You’re treating me like shit,” you finally said and looked at him bitterly. “I was still okay with you spilling your drink on me or bump into me whenever you had the chance but you crossed the border by spreading these horrible rumors about me” Without really thinking about your words, they flooded out of your mouth in the second you met his pissed look.

“How do you know that was me?” He spoke in a deep voice and drove through his hair with his hand while he rolled his eyes like he was annoyed.” It’s obvious, besides, I was told that you are the one who spread these rumours”

Cristal blue eyes looked down at you as he took a few steps towards you.” Well you are right it was me, what do you want to about it?” He stood right in front of you when he asked you this question.

“Why are you doing this” you felt intimidated by him at the moment and the many feelings that fought in your body did not exactly make it easier for you in this situation.

“Because I hate you” he put his hands on the door behind you right next to your head, which made it impossible to escape now.

“The feeling is mutual” you don’t know what exactly had happened but in the second when the last word rolled over your lips you felt a soft lips pressing hard on yours. You needed time to realize that Satoru Gojo was kissing you.

You don’t return the kiss - no, on the contrary, you push him away from you and you could feel how his ego was hurt, but this only strengthened yours.

Confidently, you took a step towards him and stood on your toes.” You say you hate me and the next moment you kiss me, that confuses me a little” your nose tip touched his and you could feel his deep breath on your lips.

Your hands laid on his shoulders when you pushed him back so that he sat on the bench behind him. You don’t waste a second and immediately sit on his lap.

“How much do you hate me, Satoru?” You whisper against his lips when your hips began to roll against his. The hardness that formed in his pants does not go unnoticed, just like the wetness in your thong.

“Every time I see you I want to embarrass you in front of everyone, I want everyone to hate you so that you don’t have anyone-“ a soft moan escaped his mouth before he could finish talking.

“Except-“ you could feel how he pressed his cock more and more against your clit, which made you lean your head back and moan hardly audibly.

“Me” when you heard that, you stopped moving your hip, which made your clit throb. Your shocked expression made him talk again.

“I don’t want you to need anyone else but me” it could have sounded like a love confession, but for you it didn’t. To you it sounded like he wanted to own you as if you were just an object.

“You are an idiot” you put your hand on his belt and removed it from his pants,you dropped it on the floor next to you and the same happened to his pants until he was only in shorts and a shirt.

When you got up from his lap, he was about to pull you back on it, but you slapped his hands away.” can’t you wait a second,” you said annoyed.

He didn’t know what you were doing until he saw from the corner of his eye how the skirt you had on fell on the floor. When his eyes lingered on your red thong, you began to grin wide.

“I can’t believe it” you laughed out loud as you took off your thong.”I’m about to fuck with you” it felt like you were just given a trophy when you saw Satoru’s needy expression.

Without really thinking about it, Satoru took off his shorts and let them rest with the rest of your clothes. Your eyes were wide when you saw how long his cock was. At least 9 inches and thick, you wondered if your hand would fit completely around it.

“Actually, I thought guy’s with a big ego had a small cock but Satoru you surprised me once again ” you sit on his lap and rub your wet pussy against his hard dick.

When you positioned yourself over his cock, you felt his hands stop you. “I should-“ you knew what he wanted, but you wouldn’t let him.

Your hand laid on Gojo’s cheek when you said your next words.” You tell everyone that I am a slut, then let me show you what kind of slut I am”

His hands stayed on your hip as his tip ,with pre cum over it,entered your pussy. You were on the pill so a condom was not necessary.” If I already had as many cocks in me as you tell everyone, then you don’t have to prepare me.” You let yourself sink more and more until he was half inside you.

The unpleasant burning feeling made you bite your lip hard. It would have been a better idea if he had prepared you beforehand, but you didn’t want to give him this triumph.

Satoru’s fingers kneaded your ass as you took more of his cock into you. His breath became faster and he closed his eyes as he enjoyed the feeling of your tight pussy.

“What a whore you are, you look like you are fighting the urge not to cum right now” Your fingers stroked his cheek which made him open his eyes and look at you.

Like a queen on her throne, you sat on him and after you had finally took all 9 inches of his cock into you, you began to move your hip.

Satoru’s hands helped you ride him.He starts hissing when he felt you get tighter the moment your brought down your hand to rub your thumb against your clit.

You start to move your hips slowly, finding the perfect rhythm and pace. The way your warm walls contract around him and suck him in made him lean his head against the wall behind him and moan out.You weren’t better whenever he reached your g-spot you were screaming- not even caring about the people that could hear you.

“Be a good boy and cum inside me”you said and the second he felt that he was about to cum he connected your mouth with his.Thrusting inside you from below in a fast pace.He’s totally ignoring your rhythm and starts fucking you like you are his right hand.

“Fuck Angel”he whispered in between the kiss and groaned loud.The moment you felt his hot cum covering your walls, it made you cum as well.You two were moaning messes.While Satoru was still thrusting his dick inside you from below ,your pussy milked him dry.

“That’s a shock”the both of you looked towards the door and saw Suguru standing there with a big smile on his face.

“Why didn’t you both ask me to join?”

#satoru x reader #suguru x reader #satosugu smut #gojo smut #satoru smut #suguru smut #suguru geto #satoru gojo #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #bully satosugu #gojou satoru x reader

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noisynaia · 4 months

Text

𝑀𝑈𝐹𝐹𝐼𝑁𝑆 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐽𝐴𝑀

Written for the lovely @pedrostories Secret Santa event 2023

My dear giftee is @katiexpunk, hope you like it! 💕

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

summury: You moved into your new house six months ago, and you love your new home. It is spacious and has a lovely little garden, and it also just so happens to include the hottest single dad with the sweetest little girl you’ve ever met as your new neighbors. Over the months you have gotten to know them more and more. Little Sarah has fallen head over heels for your labradoodle Sofie and often comes over to play with her in your garden, and as you have gotten to know him more and more, you have fallen head over heels for her father, Joel.

note: Pre/no outbreak. Next door neighbors. Fluff. Baking. This is the first fic i've written in seven months, so sorry for being super duper rusty. English isn't my native language. This was supposed to be something completely different, but my laptop broke, (the 'screen part' literally just fell off?!) so I didn't have near as much time for this as I would have preferred, so sorry if this seemed rushed (it sadly was). But nonetheless, happy holidays ya'll! I'm so happy to be back, and aiming to write much more again in the new year ♥︎

Joel stands in the kitchen, staring hopelessly at the empty sugar canister while cursing under his breath, feeling the dull pressure behind his eyes and nasal cavity which usually indicates an incoming tension headache. He had been sure that it was full, but no, it’s as empty as his hope for successfully making these damn muffins. The curse words escape his lips like a symphony of frustration, echoing off the empty walls of the kitchen. Joel can feel the frustration sinking into his bones.

He had promised Sarah that he would bake muffins for her school function, despite not being a very good nor patient baker. But he would do anything to make his little girl happy. He had thought that they could bake them together, that it would be a fun father-daughter activity, but work and chores and Sarah’s soccer practice and honestly just life in general had gotten in the way of those plans.

So now he stands here, the night before Sarah needs the muffins, without one of the most essential ingredients. It’s late, way past Sarah’s bedtime, who is sleeping soundly in her room. Joel would have to wake her up and take her with him if he’s going out to buy more sugar. But he really doesn’t want to wake her, she needs her sleep, but there is also no way in hell he’s leaving her alone while he runs to the store even if she’s just sleeping.

As he stands here contemplating his options, you appear in his mind. You do that frighteningly often these days, and deep down he knows exactly why, but he has to suppress it. He is too busy, and too grown, to go around getting crushes on pretty women with cute dogs who move into houses next door to him, and who is always so sweet and funny, and who is so sweet and nice to his daughter, and…. No. He has to stop this. He shouldn’t think about you like this.

He is mature enough to admit to himself that he is attracted to you, very attracted to you, but admitting to the feelings he has caught is a whole other can of worms, which he is not going to even attempt to look into. He is a single dad to a six year old, focused on taking care of his daughter and providing for her needs.

But in this moment, as he stands in the kitchen with an empty sugar canister mocking him, he feels a tug in his heart, a desperate need for help. He reluctantly gives in to the idea that perhaps you might have some sugar to spare…

It would be nice to see you, but he also really doesn’t want to disturb you, and something about knocking at your door this late at night gives him a funny feeling in his stomach.

Joel shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he focuses on the task at hand. He glances at the clock on the wall, realizing that time is slipping away. With a sigh, he reluctantly decides that he has no choice but to go next door and ask you for some sugar.

As he walks across the lawn and up to your front door, Joel can feel his heart racing. Why does he feel so nervous about such a simple request? He hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether he should knock or just turn around and forget about the whole thing. But the thought of disappointing Sarah and ruining her school event pushes him forward. He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, attempting to calm his racing thoughts.

Shortly after, the door swings open, and there you are, standing with a warm smile on your face. Your eyes light up as you see Joel, and Sofie, your adorable dog happily greets him as well. Joel can’t help but feel his heartbeat quicken even more at the sight of you.

“Hi,“ you smile at him. “What brings you here at this hour?” you ask curiously.

Joel awkwardly shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his nerves getting the best of him. “I hate to bother you, but I’m in a bit of a jam. I promised Sarah I would bake muffins for a thing at her school tomorrow, but I ran out of sugar. Do you, by any chance, have some to spare?"

Your smile widens, and you tilt your head slightly. “Of course, I’d be happy to help you out. Come on in, I’ll grab it for you.”

Joel breathes a sigh of relief as you invite him inside. He steps into your warm and inviting home, noticing the pleasant aroma from what he guess must be a scented candle or something of the sort. It feels comforting and familiar, contrasting with the chaos and frustration that he left behind in his own kitchen.

He follows you into your kitchen, taking in the sight of the cozy space. The countertops are clutter-free, and a few potted herbs sit on the windowsill, basking in the moonlight. It’s a stark contrast to his own kitchen, which is always a whirlwind of activity and unfinished tasks.

As you retrieve the sugar from your well-stocked pantry, Joel can’t help but admire the ease with which you move around the kitchen. Your familiarity with the tools and ingredients is evident, invoking a sense of calm in him. He wonders how you manage to maintain such a serene environment amidst the chaos of daily life.

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Joel finally musters the courage to ask, “How do you do it? How do you manage to keep everything so neat?”

You pause for a moment, a kind smile on your face as you hand Joel the sugar. “Well, for starters, I don’t have a kid," you chuckle, “and I guess it’s just about priorities, and since I work from home, I find that having a clean and organized space helps me stay focused and reduces unnecessary stress.”

Joel nods at your answer. He can’t help but admire how put-together you seem, both in your home and in your life. It’s something he strives for but often falls short of, with the chaos that comes with being a single parent.

“You’re doing really well by the way,” you smile at him, interrupting his thoughts, as if you can sense his doubts. “Sarah is really lucky to have you.” Joel’s cheeks flush at your compliment, feeling a wave of gratitude wash over him. He never believed he was doing enough for Sarah, constantly doubting himself as a parent. But your words validate his efforts and provide a much-needed boost of confidence. “Thank you,” he says softly, a mixture of appreciation and relief lacing his voice. “I always worry that I’m not doing enough, that…” he pauses.

Your expression is filled with understanding. “I can’t talk from experience, but I know that parenting is never easy. But trust me, Joel, Sarah knows how much you love her and how much you’re doing for her. And I think you are doing a wonderful job,” Joel’s eyes meet yours, and he sees genuine sincerity reflected in them. It’s as if a weight has been lifted off his shoulders, the burden of his self-imposed expectations slowly dissipating. You speak with such warmth and wisdom, Joel’s heart swells with gratitude for your presence in his life. He never imagined that a simple request for sugar would lead to such a meaningful conversation.

“Thank you,” Joel says, his voice filled with genuine gratitude. “That means more to me than you’ll ever know.”

You smile warmly at him, reaching out to gently squeeze his arm. “Joel, you’re a great dad. Don’t ever doubt yourself.” As Joel thanks you once again, he can’t help but feel a warmth spreading throughout his heart. It’s a feeling he hasn’t experienced in a long time, and it fills him with a sense of hope and possibility. Before he leaves, Joel can’t help but ask, “Would you wanna come over for dinner sometime? I am a much better cook than baker and Sarah has begged me to have you and Sofie over and visit.”

You smile and nod, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “I would love that, Joel.”

Joel feels a surge of warmth, at your smile. Thanking you again he turns to leave, sugar in hand, he musters up the courage to say one last thing. “I’m happy that it was you who moved in next to us. It’s been nice getting to know you and having you around.”

You smile warmly, your eyes twinkling, and an almost bashful expression on your face which catches Joel a little off guard. “Likewise, Joel. I’m always here if you need anything, whether it’s sugar or just someone to talk to.” you add the last part with a teasing smile, but the sincerity in your words are clear.

“I really appreciate that,” Joel says, his voice filled with sincerity.

“And just so you know…” you give him a bashful smile.“That includes help with baking muffins.”

Joel feels how his stomach does a flip as he understands what you’re saying. “Would you like to help me bake some muffins?”

“I’d love to,” you say happily, your smile growing and Joel can’t help but feel a sense of excitement through his body. “I’ll be over at yours in ten, how’d that sound?” you ask.

Joel’s heart leaps at the thought of spending more time with you. “Sounds good to me.”

“Cool, see you in ten then.” You grin at him. Joel smiles back at you, feeling a sense of anticipation building within him.

As Joel heads back to his house, sugar in hand he can’t help but smile, he had been so tired and frustrated only a little while ago, but now he suddenly feels fully recharged.

____

Ten minutes… You have ten minutes to make yourself look somewhat decent, in a casual, ‘I’m just going over to my extremely attractive dilf neighbor whom I have a big fat stupid crush on’ way. No pressure at all.

As you race to your bathroom to check yourself over in the mirror, you take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. You touch up your makeup, adding a touch of lip gloss and swipe on a new coat of mascara, you brush your teeth, and spritz on a little perfume. After making sure you look presentable, you opt for a comfortable yet cute outfit, realizing that you don’t want to come off as too overdone.

Satisfied with your appearance, you grab a small container of homemade blueberry jam from your fridge. It may not be muffins, but it’s a sweet treat that you can bring to share. With jam in hand, you head out the door, your heart fluttering with anticipation.

As you approach Joel’s house, you can’t help but appreciate the calmness of the night. The moon shines brightly above, casting a soft glow on the neighborhood. You hear the faint sound of crickets chirping, and the warm breeze carries the scent of blooming flowers. Everything feels serene and magical, heightening your excitement.

You reach Joel’s doorstep and take a moment to collect yourself. You remind yourself to be casual and relaxed, even though your heart is pounding in your chest. With a steadying breath, you knock on the door.

Joel opens it with a warm smile, and you instantly feel at ease. His eyes light up as they land on you, and you can't help but blush under his gaze. “Hi,” he greets you softly. “I'm so glad you could make it.”

You return his smile, extending the container of blueberry jam towards him. “I brought some homemade jam. I thought it would be nice with the muffins and I remember Sarah telling me she loves blueberries.”

Joel's eyes widen in pleasant surprise, and his smile widens. “That is so thoughtful of you. Thank you, darlin’.”

‘Darlin’...’ Your heart flutters at the endearment as you step inside his house, the word falling so naturally from his lips. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, mingling with the scent of warmth and comfort. It’s a homey and cozy feeling that instantly puts you at ease.

As you enter the kitchen, you notice the ingredients for the muffins laid out, ready to be used. There’s a twinkle of anticipation in Joel’s eyes as he gestures towards them. “Do you want to get started?”

You nod eagerly, not wanting to waste any more time. “Definitely. Let’s make these muffins amazing.”

For the next few hours, you and Joel work side by side, measuring ingredients, mixing, and chatting as you go. The conversation flows effortlessly between you, ranging from lighthearted jokes to more personal stories, and the atmosphere somehow turns more and more flirty, making excited butterflies flutter in your stomach. With each moment, you can feel the connection between you deepening, like ingredients coming together to create a perfect blend.

As the muffins bake in the oven, filling the kitchen with their delicious scent, the two of you take a well-deserved break. Joel pours two cups of coffee, and you find yourselves sitting at his kitchen table, sipping the warm brew in comfortable silence.

The soft glow of the overhead light casts a warm and cozy ambiance over the room. Despite the tiredness in his eyes from a long day, a smile tugs at the corners of Joel’s lips as he watches you take a sip of your coffee. There’s a comfortable silence that envelops the two of you, a sense of ease and contentment that comes from being in each other’s company.

As you set your cup down, you turn to Joel, your eyes filled with a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “You know, Joel, I have to say. These muffins wouldn’t have turned out as amazing as they did without your expert baking skills.” A teasing smirk dances on your lips.

Joel chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I may have had a little help from a certain someone,” he says, a hint of affection lacing his voice.

You playfully nudge him with your shoulder. “Oh, so now I’m just your personal baking assistant, am I?” you retort, pretending to be slightly offended.

Joel’s smile widens, his eyes sparkling with humor. “No, no, not at all. You’re so much more than that,” he reassures you, his voice brimming with sincerity. “You’ve brought light into my life, darlin’. Ever since you moved in next door, things just feel...better.”

The warmth in Joel’s words seeps into your heart, igniting a deep stirring within you. A connection that goes beyond the simple act of baking muffins is forming between the two of you, growing stronger with each passing moment.

Before you know it, the timer for the muffins goes off, snapping both of you out of the gentle bubble you’ve created. You share a laugh, realizing that you may have gotten carried away in the moment.

Joel stands up and walks over to the oven, his movements fluid and confident. He takes a deep breath, a look of anticipation on his face. “Well, here goes nothing,” he mutters to himself as he opens the oven door and retrieves the tray of freshly baked muffins.

The delightful aroma wafts through the kitchen, filling the air with its tantalizing scent. Joel carefully sets the tray down on the counter, the muffins still warm to the touch. He reaches for a plate and begins arranging the muffins, creating a beautiful display.

You watch him with admiration, seeing the dedication and love he pours into everything he does. In that moment, you can’t help but feel an overwhelming surge of affection towards him.

As you join him by the counter, your hands instinctively reach out to brush against each other, sending a spark of electricity up your arms. Your eyes meet, and in that instant, everything else fades away. It's just the two of you, connected in a way that feels destined.

Joel's gaze is warm as he gazes at you, and his voice is filled with sincerity as he speaks. "I just want you to know how grateful I am for your help, for everything. You've brought so much happiness into our lives."

You smile softly at him, feeling your heart swell with affection. “The feeling is mutual, Joel.”

Joel takes a step closer, his gaze unwavering and filled with a mix of vulnerability and longing. You can’t help but notice how his gaze keeps darting from your eyes to your lips, and you feel your own heartbeat quickens in response, but a sudden surge of bravery fills you as well. You can’t just be imagining this. “You can if you want, you know.” you whisper.

You can almost see how Joel’s breath catches in his throat by your words, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. He searches your face, trying to comprehend your words. “If I want...what?” he asks, his tone laced with both curiosity and hope.

A soft smile graces your lips as you reach out to gently take his hand in yours. “You can kiss me,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “If you want.”

“I want to, more than anything.” He brings his free hand up to gently cup your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with tender affection.

With bated breath, the world seems to stand still as your faces draw closer together. The anticipation hangs in the air like an electric current, and as your lips finally meet, it feels like a rush of warmth cascading throughout your bodies.

The kiss is soft, tender, and filled with an underlying passion that has been building between you. It's a culmination of longing, uncertainty, and hope, all coming together in that single moment of connection.

As your lips move against each other, the outside world fades away, and all that matters is the tenderness you share. Time seems to stretch, allowing you to savor each second of this newfound intimacy.

When you finally break apart, breathing slightly heavier, Joel's eyes search yours, seeking reassurance and confirmation. "Was that okay?" he asks, his voice laced with vulnerability.

You smile warmly at him, a sparkle in your eyes. “More than okay,” you reply, your voice filled with sincerity. “It was everything I hoped it would be.”

A wave of relief washes over Joel as he pulls you into a gentle embrace, his arms enveloping you in a sense of security. Resting his chin on the top of your head, he whispers, “I'm glad, because I've been wanting to do that for a long time.”

And in that moment, as you stand in Joel's warm embrace, you realize that sometimes the sweetest moments in life come unexpectedly. As you snuggle into his embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your cheek, you can't help but be grateful for the empty sugar canister and the twist of fate that brought you together. Love has a funny way of sneaking up on people, and you can’t wait to see where this new chapter with Joel and Sarah takes you. With muffins in the oven and love blossoming in your hearts, this late-night adventure is just the beginning of a sweet, heartfelt journey together.

#pedrostoriesgift23 #pedrostories #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller one shot #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic

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urf1lterr · 1 year

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afterglow | pedro pascal [1/3]

"tell me that you're still mine, tell me that we'll be just fine, even when i lose my mind"

summary: being nominated for an oscar was a dream come true, until you had to spend the rest of the night near your deceitful ex who still loved you.

pairing: actor!pedro x actress!reader

genre: acting world!au, enemies/exes to lovers ?? au | angst, fluff, fighting, mature

word count: 6.8k

status: 1/3 complete

author's note: i actually started this weeks ago but never had the chance to finish. hope you guys like this short one shot even though its gonna be two parts lol. not edited.

"Quick! Spray her hair some more! We need to make sure there's no flyaways," your manager demanded to your assistant, handing over a large can of hairspray.

Objecting, you swat it away making her gasp. "Too much will make me look greasy."

Here you were, all dressed up in your tight corset red dress in the back of some SUV one of your assistant's ordered being a nervous wreck.

If it wasn't for the two shots you had taken before, you were sure you would have fainted right about now. It was your first time attending the notable award show nominated.

And alone.

You did attend the past two years; however, you always had your boyfriend near from a distance as you walked down the red carpet and participated in interviews.

Well, ex boyfriend. But that's irrelevant now.

Of course you knew your team would be three steps behind you majority of the time, but it wasn't going to be the same knowing you had to sit alone for most of the show, especially since you were nominated.

Not that you knew you would win, you were up against women who dominated the screen year after year while you recently got your first big lead after so many years. But it was indeed a huge honor to even come to this point as you knew this might never happen again.

Pulling up to the main entrance, you could hear how loud the fans and paparazzi were through the thick, tinted windows. Your driver quickly jumped out of the car before rounding his way to yours, swiftly opening it, the chilly air instantly making you shiver.

Gulping, you try to hide any signs of fear in your body by smiling widely and immediately directing waves and bows to the crowd as your manager was right behind your ear, constantly informing you on how quicker you needed to be.

You were finally able to get rid of her when another worker offered their hand to you, ushering you to the main carpet for your pictures.

Taking a deep breathe, you are instantly dragged to a spot to start your first poses, doing the same angles- hands on hip and shifting of head- which the paparazzi demanded you do, as you followed down the long path.

Already in the middle of the walkway, you move your arms behind your back as you send a warm smile before hearing another roar from fans. Glancing to your side, you fight the urge to scoff knowing damn well you'd wake up to news outlet making headlines over it.

You just found it incredibly annoying the massive attention being displayed over nothing.

It just so happened that your infuriating ex thought it would be a brilliant idea to make his mark on the carpet right after you. Mentally sighing, you tried finding other things to plant in your head to stop you from cursing him out.

You were not going to let him get to you, especially not on your special night.

Once you came down the end of the road, you were met with your team again before being thrown into a line for interviews.

"If it makes you feel any better," you heard your assistant move up to your ear, whispering as you were neatly fixing the large necklace draped around your neck. "He was totally checking you out."

Backing your head away from hers, you give you a gross look as she shrugged. "Don't make me barf before the show even starts."

One thing about you assistant, she's been with you since the very beginning. From your first agency, she had been assigned to you until she was forced to cease the partnership as you changed companies. So she did that, but with her original company and took the move with you.

She says it's because that's what friends do, you think it's because of the increase in pay.

Since following you around for years, she witnessed all the shy, awkward, romantic, and crying stages of majority of your relationships.

Most certainly remembering the last one real well.

Him being your first love didn't make it any better as it led to you breaking down over the silliest things for months when you should've been moving on.

But every time there was a chance it was understandable to mention his name, your assistant wasted no time trying to make him stuck in your head.

Let's just say she believed what you two had was...special.

Blocking out the rest of her remarks, knowing where she was headed, you get called into an interview. Mentally groaning, it was always the same old questions every year that bore you to death.

How are you? Who are you wearing? Are you in a relationship?

You would always reply truthfully until it came to the last part. Your ex didn't mind publicly announcing it, basically pleading for its unveil anytime you two went out.

You on the other hand disagreed. Being a prominent actor himself, you knew the media would slowly take a toll and make your relationship harder.

This theory often left the two of you fighting constantly for many months, committing cruel and nasty jabs to one another before calling your almost three year-old relationship quits.

That was 10 months ago, tonight being the first time you'd be in the same room since screaming unholy words to each other's faces, throwing fragile objects in all directions before he stormed out of your home, never coming back.

Well, you did change all the locks that same night.

But long story short, only family and friends knew about your relationship from start to finish. Fortunately with that, you didn't have to deal with fans freaking out over the two of you being near one another.

Save that for Austin Butler and Vanessa Hudgens.

Forming a proud smirk, you beam back to the interviewer as she pushed a mic up your mouth. "I'm actually seeing someone."

Gasping, the interviewer looked at the camera in shock, trying to keep her audience engaged, before stepping closer. "Who's the lucky man- or woman?! We don't discriminate." You could hear the fans in the back cheering as more celebrities were passing by. "And just how long have you been keeping your lover locked up?"

'Lover', really?

Faking a grin you knew she thought was believable, you wave your hand in front of her. "He's not ready to be discovered quite yet, he's a little shy-," you wink to the camera as she squeals. "-but 9 months next week."

Ending the conversation with her wishing your nomination and 'relationship' the best of luck, you walked off to find your assistant giving you a disappointed look. "What?"

"Why would you do that?"

Shrugging, you move a strand of hair over your shoulder. "It's not that serious, maybe it'll gain me more publicity."

You didn't care for the attention, you just wanted to find a way to prove that you were moving on in life- for your fans at least. Even if it was a lie and you were still the same person you were 10 months ago.

She just stood there, making her silence loud and clear that she was not by the very least happy. Deep down you knew it was a low move to pull, but it's not like you did it in front of your ex.

Maybe the news will spread tomorrow when you don't have to breathe in the same air as him. Better for you, nonetheless.

"I love your dress," you heard someone praise you as you were in search for your seat. Turning, you were met with your familiar red-head friend. "It really compliments your eye look."

Smiling, you bowed to the famous Jessica Chastain, another actress you met a handful of times.

As the two of you reached out to one another a couple of times, you were indeed introduced by your ex as his close friend was actually a lead in a series with her.

"I could say the same for you, that necklace is breathtaking," you gush as she waves off your warm acclaim.

"I see we're sitting next to each other," she grins ear to ear, gesturing towards the seats nearby. "Good, now I won't have to only talk to my husband during the commercial breaks."

That's how the remaining half an hour went by, catching up on one another's life before the lights slightly dimmed, signaling the start of the award show.

Opening with Jimmy Kimmel's monologue, you quietly giggled from all the jokes he presented, especially the one about Pauly Shore you were sure he would take personally.

Towards the end of his act, you notice the act of violence come up, obviously referring to last year's fallout with Chris Rock and Will Smith, before he started acknowledging popular film heroes across the room.

You slightly jump as his first victim was Michael B. Jordan, exposing you and Jessica in the back trying to jump out of from the camera view but poorly failing, making the people near you laugh.

It wasn't even 30 seconds later before you heard the mention of an all too familiar character being called out, your ex boyfriend in his thick black glasses appearing on the big screen while acting tough to the lens.

Oh, how you used to love those glasses.

But you did notice another person making a small presence in the corner, causing you to pause for a moment. You were sure you'd seen this individual walking pass you down the row to his located seat.

Turning your head to see where this stranger was, your eyes instantly locked with the one person you hoped you wouldn't be near. How had you not have known he was literally sitting behind you- well, three people diagonal from you but same thing.

He was still behind you.

What made things worse was the fact his sister was right by his side, sending you a warm smile as you quickly turned your head forward, not daring to move an inch the entire show it if meant you didn't have to face his gaze again.

Continuing your attention on the stage, you didn't notice the set of eyes burning your side. In fact, that spilt second you did notice him, you didn't take account of the way his expression softened in heartfelt- eventually breaking once the swift turn of your discomfort became apparent.

It seemed you truly were disgusted by him.

But once the act was over, you felt Jessica lean over to you. "Definitely rooting for you," she lightly squealed. "If the nerves get to you, hold my hand."

You send her a questionable look. "For what?"

"Your nomination, silly," she giggled as your eyes widened. That was happening now? The memo you were given weeks ago said opposite. "Best Supporting Actress is up next!"

"But I was told it wouldn't be announced till the second hour."

She sends you a uncertain shrug, not sure what to say. There must have been a last minute change to the line up- which was totally fine, but you were not prepared for your nerves to hit.

Exhaling a shaky breath, you rub your hands together as you see the production team walking near the stage for the upcoming selection. You couldn't at least get a commercial break?

As the lights started dimming and the crowed cheered, you could see the two presenters make their way to the middle of the stage before the clips of films played.

Cringing, you jump and quickly close your eyes as you saw yourself on the gigantic screen. It's very weird watching yourself act out a character, which is why you avoid it at all costs.

Especially the crying scenes- you always thought of Kim Kardashian's crying meme whenever your tears were on the screen.

Your ex would say otherwise, constantly praising you every chance he had when you would appear on a film, claiming you had such a passionate aura when you expressed yourself. Often following with his additional, "it's what made me fall in love with you."

Swaying your neck, you try to clear your mind. Fuck your thoughts for daring to think about him in such a crucial moment.

Wishing for time to fly by quicker, you completely zone out as the wait seemed longer than usual. It also didn't help that the camera was zoomed up to your face trying to capture your reaction to this nerve wracking milestone.

You let out a sigh of relief as another actress, Jamie Lee Curtis, was awarded- thrilled that you didn't have to go up and make a dreadful speech that surely wouldn't be planned.

"Why do you seem thankful?"

Turning to Jessica, you send her a chuckle. "I probably would've fallen down the stairs if I did win," you declare as she rolls her eyes. "Plus, the other nominees had more of a lively feel with their roles than me- they deserved it more."

The rest of the show did seem to fly by smoothly. There was the segment where your ex did have to present an award in which you were forced to pull a contented face in case any random camera caught you.

He seemed nervous, but he did do well considering the room was filled with remarkable individuals- it was very intimidating to say the least.

But you weren't ever going to tell him that.

Standing up and patting your dress down, you quickly excuse yourself in search for your assistant during the intermission. You really needed to touch up your makeup and she was the only who had your powder in her bag.

Walking near the side of the stage, you slip through a door and make it to the backstage area where most celebrities' teams were scattered around, trying to be useful and take hundreds of pictures.

"There you are," you smile as you catch a glimpse of her bright red hair from the corner of your eye near a wall. "I really nee- uhm"

You halt as you were met with the same presence of the man who battered your heart and left it to rot months ago. The one who caused the constant breakdowns in your car after every Starbucks run from the frequent trips you two used to share.

The one who left you stranded for his ex.

"Oh, hey!" your assistant beamed while you just gave her an agitated expression, trying your best to stay calm and collected before you became the opposite. "You're not supposed to be here- the show is still go-"

"I need my powder," you grit your teeth, causing her to suck in her lips by your noticeable anger.

Quickly reaching to her bag and unzipping it, you tried ignoring the amused expression your ex was portraying as he leaned up against the wall in hope you would spare him a glance.

You didn't.

Placing the product in your hand, she shakily reaches out to you. "Here, I can take it once you're done w-"

"I'll hold on to it," you dryly cut her off, swiftly turning your back to them before speed walking towards the door you came in from. All you wanted to do now was sit through the remainder of the awards and sleep on the car ride home.

But of course things never went your way.

Hearing loud footsteps of shoes, you feel a gush of wind hit you as a person barged their way in front of you, causing you to stop your movements. "You didn't have to be so harsh on her, you know?"

Holding back your laughter, you mock him. "Harsh? What's so harsh about doing your job?"

He releases a wary look, knowing you would never act like this unless something was bothering you.

Sadly, he knew he was that something- or somebody.

"I was the one who went up to her," he explains, trying to defend her from your future wrath. "She was only kind enough to stay-."

"I don't care what my workers do when I am not around," you cut him off, glaring at him. "Nor you."

With that, you make your exit before he could further justify himself. In reality, you were upset she was talking to him, but you knew he must've started the conversation and could understand why she stayed.

But what really hurt was the fact you knew deep down she believed you were in the wrong as to why you resented him. Maybe the sight of the two of them triggered your feelings, but for a person who's never sat down and heard both stories she was not one to have any say as to how you should feel.

Sitting down on your seat, Jessica sends you a worried look by how fast you strutted back as if you were running away from something- your past. Returning a reassuring one, you steer clear from the body walking through the aisle as they eyed you down, ultimately brushing your backside as they shuffled to their located seat.

Goosebumps arose all over from the split-second contact. For such short contact, it was sure as hell strong as his warmth hit you.

Straightening your posture, you exhale lowly, trying to compose yourself. You don't want anyone thinking you seemed triggered or anxious because you weren't. And you were going to prove it, making it your best interest to stop thinking about all the unnecessary issues in your life and let loose a bit.

And that's exactly what you did.

"I think I broke my toe," you whine, hopping on your right leg as one hand held onto your left ankle. "How am I going to dance now?"

"That's enough shots for you," you heard Florence exclaim, quickly taking the small cup away from your right hand as you huff, trying to fight back.

It was no use, once determined you knew there was no stopping her from doing her thing.

"Give her a bottle of water and she'll come back to life," you heard Shailene suggest as you tried your best to stay balanced.

After the award show you swear you were going to go straight home until a certain somebody caused you to flip your plans around and party.

That somebody being Andrew Garfield.

"Why end all the fun so early?" you hum, finally feeling your feet numb from the pain and standing better. "The party is just starting!"

Swaying your arms crazily as your hips were rocking in all directions, Shailene's laughter fills your ears as you miss Florence's disturbed stare.

Your dancing was not a pretty sight to see.

"It started almost three hours ago!" Shailene called out over the blaring music that was playing on the dance floor. You were sure it was some EDM song until you took a notice of the familiar lyrics.

Instantly freezing, your friends stop in worry as your body movements halt. Slowly pointing your finger up in the air, you gasp. "Is this Ciara?!"

Feeling a body collide with yours, an arm immediately wrapped around your shoulder. "Oh god! I couldn't find the bathroom, they have like 20 rooms here" Andrew complained, out of breath. "I almost pissed myself!"

Florence walked in front of you two, taking his cup away from him as well. "And no more drinking for you, too. Sir."

Weeping and pulling a despairing pout, his shoulders fall. "Aw c'mon, I wasn't even dri- holy shit, is this Ciara?"

Excitedly jumping up and down, you rapidly nod as he cheers along, both of you fan girling to the iconic song choice. Your other friends just stared, not quite sure what your next actions would be.

Pulling away from you and gently pushing people to the side, Andrew began forming a circle as you giggled in your hand by how energetic he was becoming.

The large opening caught the attention of the other attendees who began walking over to see what all the commotion was.

"You're causing so much-"

"Shush! I'm about to do my 1, 2 step!" Andrew placed a hand to Florence's face, ignoring her parenting skills before swinging his body smoothly to the middle of the circle.

'I shake it like Jello, make the boys say hello 'cause they know I'm rockin' the beat'

Cringing hard, your two sober friends began covering their faces as Andrew allowed the dance floor to acknowledge his presence.

Soon enough, the crowd got bigger as guests began vibing to the rhythm, eventually making the space and air around you hotter.

'I know you heard about a lot of great MC's but they aint got nothing one me'

Constantly tripping over your heels, which you knew would reveal fucked up feet tomorrow, you find Florence and leap to her side, watching as her once stern expression was slowly forming into a grin.

She could never stay annoyed for too long, her lively personality forbid it.

"Because I'm 5 foot 2, I wanna dance with you and I'm sophisticated fun!" you hear someone beside you scream as you followed along, wrapping your loose arms around hers as the two of you begin twirling through the crowd.

Behind your drunken state, you just knew your sober-self tomorrow was going to be praying no one records your embarrassing moves.

The song seems to end faster than what you had anticipated, going from the funky beat to a familiar pop one which made you happier.

Shrieking in joy, Andrew jumped back to Florence and you once realization filled his ears. "I'm about to fucking go insane right now! This son-" stopping, he turned his head to find someone swaying right beside him before leaning towards their ear. "This is your song!"

Bursting out in laughter, you see the devoted artist agree to the obvious note he had made.

"Sorry about him," you intervene, your words coming out in slurs. "He's a dedicated Swiftie...as well as me," you squeak and watch as she waves her hand in appreciation.

God, if only you could see how badly you were humiliating yourself in front of the legendary Taylor Swift.

Not being able to begin your upcoming requests on scoring some of her sold-out concert tickets, you were dragged back onto the dance floor by your very hyper dance partner.

'I knew you were trouble when you walked in, so shame on me now'

Walking closer to get a better look at you two, Shailene's eyes widened as the song continued. "He better not-"

"Now I'm lying on the cold hard ground!" Andrew sung, falling on his knees with his head back. Following after him, you sink to the ground in despair as others continued screaming the lyrics over and over again.

Everybody's a Swifite.

Getting back up by the help of Shailene, you begin to serenade her as Taylor's famous lyrics start catching up. Expressing a face of sorrow and grief, you dramatically chant.

'And the saddest fear...'

But with the crowd of people pushing their way through, your vision ends up falling upon another person- one you were sure you would've avoided if you weren't as plastered as you were now.

'Comes creeping in...'

A sudden harsh push has you involuntarily making your way to your target, you accidentally pushing their shoulders back as they halt their movements, surprised you were even giving them any bit of regard in public until they realized what had happened.

Oh god, how can you be in this situation with a sad Taylor song playing. How ironic.

Noticing the sufferable look of discomfort forming upon your features by his proximity, he tries taking a hold of your shoulders to keep you from the rough crowd but you rejected his hands.

'That you never loved me or her'

Giving him one tough push of his chest, which was incredibly hard by how weak the night has made you, his face filled with hurt at the sight of your developing teary eyes.

You couldn't help it, all the memories of your relationship began flooding your mind. The laughs, the love, the arguments- and in this moment you weren't stable enough to contain your true feelings towards him.

Trying to reach back out for you, your ex steps forward but someone else begins to distract you.

"Or anyone, or anything, YEAHH!" Andrew hollers, viscously shaking your shoulders with his eyes closed before opening them, his beaming grin falling instantly. "Did I make you cry?!"

Squeezing your eyes shut, you shake your head and look down as you feel tears slowly begin pouring out. "Hide me before Taylor sees me, I don't want to look ugly in front of her." you joke, trying to stop his flourishing worries but it didn't.

Instead, it made him even more concerned by how unfazed you were after releasing your waterworks out of nowhere.

Nodding, he holds your hand and begins to lead you away from the crowd but another grip was holding you back. Looking at your other hand, you move your gaze to discover your ex was the one who ceased your steps, sending you an alarmed stare in return.

Trying to free yourself, you shake your hand vigorously as he leaned into you. "You can't just breakdown in front of me and expect me to leave you alone!"

Scoffing, you move your face away from his crazed one. "I'm drunk, ignore me."

"A drunk mind speaks the hidden truth."

Pausing your movements, you stare him down as he doesn't back away but only frowns by your rude attitude. He wasn't going to let this nonstop quarrel continue anymore, especially when you obviously weren't fine if you just fell apart over a silly Taylor Swift song.

In his eyes, you clearly weren't fine with him. He wanted to fix that.

Inhaling sharply, you forcefully pull your hand away as he winces by the sudden release. Trying to find a clever comeback in order to take a win on this minor bickering, you allow your drunken-self to take the lead. "I prefer Spider-man, anyway."

What the fuck? You pull a disgusted face, slapping your forehead once your back was facing Pedro to hide your embarrassment. How was that fucking clever? Spider-man- really?

Turning to Andrew, you tug his hand and swiftly make your way through the bodies of the crowd as your two other friends followed behind, definitely witnessing your intense argument with your ex- which you were sure people finally uncovered.

Strolling through the back door, a cold breeze hits your body causing you to shiver and clutch your arms together tighter in hopes of forming some warmth.

"Your car should arrive in a few minutes, Ma'am," you hear the valet attendant claim, awkwardly standing still as your makeup was smudged near the corners of your eyes.

You thank him as your friends quietly gawk you, curious to figure out what was going on but not wanting to trigger you more.

"Will you three stop staring at me like that and ask already?" you groan as they jump in alarm. "I know you're all very confused."

Slowly taking a step forward, Florence placed a soft hand on your arm for comfort. "We don't want to intrude. It's your business."

"I believe I welcomed the party in my business ten minutes ago," you sarcastically smile. "So, it's fine."

Sighing, Shailene was the first to speak up as Andrew gave you a sympathetic face, trying to be respectful. "You and Pedro dated?"

Shrugging, you nipped on your bottom lip to prevent the fear of tears from flowing again. "I guess?" you lightly chuckle, trying to lighten your mood a bit. "3 years must have meant something, right?"

Pulling you in for a hug after capturing your weak voice crack, Andrew cradled you in his arms as Florence and Shailene tried rubbing your back.

Being emotional wasn't really your thing, so being consoled was very strange yet nice.

It made you feel wanted, sadly.

All thoughts through your mind disappeared once a deafening bang was heard from the building, the four of you pulling away from the hug instantly and averting your focus to where the sound directly came from- the back door.

With harsh steps, you make out Pedro's agitated body language as he rapidly shook his head and pointed at you while your friends froze in shock. "I'm sick of you always running away from me every time we talk. Is that fair? I can't have one normal fucking conversation with you because you scatter the second words leave my mouth."

Feeling your hands tighten up, you hug yourself tighter as he takes your silence as complete bullshit.

Now you wanna be quiet?

"Do you know how hard it was trying to find you? Hearing everyone ask if you were okay because you decided to come up to me and run out crying?" he sternly declared, his face now serious as he inched closer to you, your emotionless expression killing him. "As if that was my fault!"

You knew he wanted you to breakdown, to cry in his arms and beg for forgiveness by making you feel as if this was all your fault. It might be- but you weren't going to give him that satisfaction.

His greed to be right was popular during your arguments, but of course he never saw it that way.

Stepping in front of you, Andrew awkwardly tried blocking Pedro from your view to calm him down. Placing his hand on his shoulder, Andrew began speaking. "Look man, maybe now isn't the right time to be discussing this." Giving a slight nod to the street, he continued. "There's paparazzi nearby, we don't want this getting out."

Faking a laugh, Pedro tilted his head before glancing over Andrew's shoulder to meet your eyes. "I'm sure the paparazzi won't be at fault for that one, right y/n?"

God, you hated how petty he would become when provoked. It was one of the rare traits that made him so unattractive and you hated how you shared it.

Maybe you both are just too toxic for each other if you can't be near one another, after months, without fighting- even if you did start it. It was a clear sign after all.

Glaring, you were about to break and fight back until a familiar SUV pulled up. Internally cheering for the literal perfect moment, you slowly ignore his presence and make your way to the car door as he scoffs.

"So you're just going to leave again, like always," he flares, crossing his arms over his chest as you pull the door open. "You can't be serious."

Groaning loudly, you slam the door shut and march over, facing him head on as his strong expression never falters. Instead, he released his arms to his sides and angrily looked down at you. "Can you just leave me the fuck alone?!"

Gasping, Shailene and Florence look at each other in disbelief as Andrew scratched the back of his neck, trying to process where this may be leading to.

Nowhere good, that's for sure.

Before Pedro could speak, you harshly place your hand over his mouth to shut him up. Which he did, but he was certainly not happy by your actions. "Yeah! I'm the one who caused all of this-" you start as you feel your adrenaline going crazy. "-but it's done. Over. Nothing we can do now to change what happened and if you're so worried about it, I'll make a public apology if it means I won't ever have to deal with you again."

Frowning, he snatches your hand away from his face that causes Andrew to wince at the rough contact. "Worried? You think I care about what happened in there?"

You swear you could see sadness fill his eyes as they hid under the blaring anger that was presented. He didn't dare to look at any other direction but your own, scared if he did you would run away again.

But he knew deep down that was coming, soon.

"Why else are you this upset with me-"

"Because you act like we never happened!" he interjects, exclaiming loudly as your mouth shuts. "You-" he begins, running his hand over his hair in frustration, "-you pretend like I don't exist. That we weren't together for all those years and for what? Why do I deserve to be treated like shit in the end? Why am I the only one trying-"

"Trying?!" you shriek, laughing sarcastically as he sighed in response, not taking your tone well. "Really? I don't recall you trying to reach me after you left me-"

"Left you? You changed the locks to the damn house! I couldn't come back in-"

"You still left!" you yell, causing him to flinch by your increase in volume.

Feeling the warmth of someone's hand on your shoulder, you could already tell it was Shailene's by the rings on them. "Maybe we should go. It's getting late and soon people will be coming out..."

Slowly breaking eye-contact with Pedro, you nod and back away. You were done with this conversation and you surely didn't want to even attempt to talk things over when you already knew you both needed help in order to even let things go.

But letting things go didn't mean reconciling.

The sight of you walking away from him terrified him when he knew it may be the last time he was ever going to be face to face with you again for a while. He didn't want to give up, not now when he finally had your attention after months of trying to bump into you.

That's hard when you blocked him on everything and instructed your neighborhood security he was not welcomed to see you weeks after you changed your locks. Of course he could've just waited until you left the gate to trap you, but he wasn't a stalker.

Slamming the door shut after you opened it, Pedro leaned his back against it to halter your movements. Freezing at his quick actions, you try pushing him away but he doesn't budge.

"I know you don't have a boyfriend," he blurts out, breathing heavily as he blocked your hands from grasping the door handle. You immediately pause as he continues to let his thoughts flow freely out of his mouth.

Did he watch that interview? Impossible, he was walking the red carpet. He couldn't have had time to.

"I know you said that to seem happy or I don't know, make me jealous? Fuck, you could've said that to fake it for the cameras but I'm not going to stand here and act like you don't love me."

Choking from his last statement, you immediately try pushing him away from the door to get in, even sending a look over your shoulder, you glare at your friends who sheepishly stand there not helping, too invested to intervene.

Those little nosy bitches.

Finding your wrists, Pedro stops your forceful shoves and lowers your trembling arms. "You still love me."

Not being able to move, you were stuck in his trance. Maybe it was from all the chaos happening and your emotions spiraling out of control, but you felt the sudden urge to give up.

You were tired. Tired of fighting, crying, being mad whenever his name popped up.

You wanted all of this to stop.

Gripping the back of your neck, he leaned in and sent you a hopeless look before pulling your body closer as a way to find comfort and security. "And god, I still fucking love you and you know that."

With that, you were snapped back into reality.

Finding all the power you had left in you, you yanked your body out of his arms and jumped back before he could catch you. Angrily glaring at him, you make sure there's enough distance so he wouldn't latch himself back on you before speaking your mind.

"Don't say that," you spit out, redness filling your face as your fury kept growing. "Don't say 'you know that' when you didn't seem to when you were constantly out with your ex without telling me!"

The dropping jaws behind you went unnoticed as you stared Pedro down, catching the way his face ached with agony the longer you two continued your shared meltdown.

This was getting out of hand and you both knew it.

"Why would I tell you when I knew this is how you'd react?" he snapped back, his hurt now forming into irritation by how ignorant you were being. He knew he did nothing wrong, so why couldn't you believe him? "Nothing happened and you know that."

Pointing a finger at him, you release a snarky smirk as he tried to contain his calm this time. You were getting on his nerves bad. "Hiding secrets with someone you were intimate with for five fucking years is deceiving," you huff, gripping the bottom of your dress. "and you know that."

Before he could fight for his defense, you completely shun him. Speedily avoiding his following presence, you make it to the passenger door of the SUV before he could block in and jump inside.

However, your movements weren't fast enough as he gripped the door hard, not letting you close it. Anxiously sighing, he lowered his head to keep contact with you as you ignored his close proximity, focusing on finding a stern hold on the door so you can shut him out, again.

Leaning in closer, he shakes his head. "We need to talk about t-"

"You didn't want to talk about it last time because you it was your own business remember," you intervened as he closed his eyes in exasperation. "What did you say again? 'This isn't about you. Stay out of it.' I'm out now so you can go."

"I was angry and ups-"

"Andrew!" you call out, causing Pedro to stop talking and confusingly gaze you. "Can you please help? I really want to leave."

Pedro let out a loud scoff, returning his past hurt look as you simply waited for your friend to rescue you. Within seconds, Andrew came by your side and sent Pedro a look of sorrow, not really sure how to make him feel better by his wanted removal.

He didn't need to do much as Pedro backed away himself, shaking his head and sent you one last glance of betrayal. "I'm fucking done," he declared, walking backwards and you prayed your sudden feeling of panic wasn't on full display.

"I'm not going to waste my time anymore when its no use." With that, he made his way back to the building, muttering a swift "have a great life" before aggressively pulling the door open and disappearing inside.

Ignoring the presence of people around, you stared at the windshield in front of you as Andrew stayed by your car door, not wanting to close it just yet.

You didn't want to admit it, but you felt your chest tighten as you began to feel uneasy. Was this it? Did you finally get what you wanted?

Or what you thought you wanted?

Of course you wanted this, now you could move on.

You had even forgotten about Florence and Shailene until the sounds of the back door opening flooded through your ears as they hopped in and made a seat for themselves.

As an intense wave of guilt took over, you immediately turned your back to face them for your explanation until Florence waved her hands to make you stop. "You don't need to explain anything right now, all I want is for you to relax."

Sighing, you slowly nod and turn back towards the front to see Andrew give you a small, condoling smile before gently closing your door, trying not to smash your feet or dress in the process.

Awkwardly gazing to the driver who was cautiously scanning over you making sure you weren't going to puke or breakdown, you send him a sad grin. "I'm sorry...for causing a scene."

He chuckles, shaking his head as you felt your cheeks burn from how embarrassed you were. You must've looked so childish fighting with a grown man over your secret relationship. "Don't worry, as long as I get a big tip you can do whatever you want."

Frowning at his response, your eyes widen as he laughs louder, his body shaking from how funny he thought this miserable situation was. "I'm only joking, I would never let a woman tip after dealing with an unfaithful ex."

Sitting up straighter, you send him a surprised look. "So you think he was cheating, too? Right? I'm not cr-"

"Okay! Let's not continue this conversation anymore," Shailene cuts you off and nods to the driver. "Please drive us to her house."

Your driver sends you a promising wink before starting the engine and pulling out of the parking lot to hit the busy streets of the city. You wish you could remember the rest of the car ride, but sleep took over after the car passed the third traffic light.

But as you finally got to forget about the recent incident, little did you know it would haunt you the moment you woke up.

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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months

Text

Fem Reader x Miguel O'Hara who is your Uber Driver

Commissioned art by @ejpuki on Instagram, same as the one above, this is just a link to the original post. Please support the artist 🖤

Synopsis- in an AU where fem reader drinks too much and the bartender calls a random Uber for her which happens to be Miguel O'Hara himself. Her friends suck and ditch her. There's a lot of tension on the ride home...with a twist on the og Miguel O'Hara comic. Word Count 4.5k

Pt 2, Pt 3 1, Pt 3 2 , Pt 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8 , Part 9

T/W: 18+ only, minors DNI, alcohol, drunkeness, mature language, implied masturbation, some sexual content/fantasizing, some self-deprecating language (reader is insecure), age gap (reader 26, Miguel 34)

This is my first EVER fan fiction piece! If you have a crush on Miguel O'Hara from Across the Spider Verse, this is for you...

---

"Next song is for all the bad bitches in here tonight, let's make some noise." As soon as the song starts you recognize that it's Agora Hills and a switch goes off in your brain as you yank your friend, Hailey by the arm to the dance floor while she struggles to get the last sip of tequila sunrise down the hatch as the ice cubes attack her face.

It was a Saturday night, now very early Sunday morning in mid-November. You and your two friends are in a slightly seedy club in Brooklyn. Right now, all three of you are trying to escape the first-world problems of modern day society, and common issues that would plague late-twenty year old adults like stagnant jobs, anxiety-inducing texts from distant family members about plans for the holidays, and a casual fling that started to sour about 3 days ago.

Right now, all you want to do is dance to this song. And go home for some relief because the tequila is making you horny and your situationship hasn't texted you back for going on 16 hours now.

You and Hailey giggle as you both throw your heads back in bliss to the music, holding each other's pinkies as you try and awkwardly spin on the dance floor.

"Wait!" Hailey calls out and stutters as she lets go of you and tries to squeeze through a sea of musk, 5- Gum, and Bath and Body Works perfume back towards your other friend, Brin, who's still at the bar.

"Fuckkk. Whatever girl." You drunkenly roll your eyes and close them again, throwing your arms in the air, moving to the beat. The song is making you feel even more electrified than before. You toss your head back and move your hands from your shoulders, to your chest, down to your thighs. It's one of those moments where you feel dangerous.

God I love being a woman! You picture going home with a stranger. A tall man's lips crashing down on yours in your dark bedroom in drunken passion, falling backwards onto your bed. You picture yourself pulling your clothes off slowly while his hungry eyes scan your curves…

Your fantasy is interrupted when you feel a clammy hand touch your hip, just below where your see-through top ends. Your eyes shoot what you hope is an annoyed look at the offender. A brown haired guy in a white t-shirt with a flannel who looks like his name is Tanner, smirks at you as he moves past you, but not before letting his eyes dart to your cleavage line under your black bralette. You groan and move the other direction and realize Hailey and Brin are nowhere to be found. Your drunkeness wears off for one second as you slowly jerk around, trying to make your way towards the bar.

A tall brunette with a half sleeve tattoo, glasses, and her straight brown hair in a claw clip is counting her drawer.

"H-have you seen my friends?" you ask her stupidly. The tall brunette looks at you, her small sticker name tag on her baseball tee shirt reads "Reagan."

"I can't hear you, hunny." Reagan has seen this a million times. "Last call just ended. Do you have a ride home? I said, do you have a ride HOME?"

Reagan leans over the bar, holding onto your wrist. Her breath smells good at least.

"Okay look, can you hand me your phone please? Let me help you order an Uber." You blow air out of your lips like a horse and sloppily hand her your phone. "Enter your passcode, please."

You type in your passcode and watch the glint from your phone reflect on her glasses as she orders an Uber for you. Luckily, your address is already saved to the app. "Okay, sweetheart, wait here with me. Miguel is coming for you in 4 minutes." She hands you back your phone and credit card. "Sign here please."

Fuck, did I transfer that 200 from my savings before I got here? You think as you sign the receipt she hands you. The total is $58.75. You scrape the tiny excuse for a pocket inside your skirt and hand Reagan a crumpled up 20 as a tip. Reagan takes it, eyes widen a little bit at the sight of the 20.

Did she mean to give me this much?... Fuck it. She gives you a small, concerned grin.

"Thanks... let me get you some water."

You nod and slump your head forward on the sticky bar.

Suddenly Reagan is shaking your shoulder.

"Hey! Your ride's here!"

You realize you might have fallen asleep temporarily. The room is still moving like you're trying to balance on a waterbed. She places a styrofoam to-go cup in your hand filled with ice water as she grips your left arm.

"Here, just take off your shoes, hunny." She bends over and pulls off your clunky heels and holds them in her free hand. You feel like you're 4 years old. You feel tears well up at the sudden kindness.

"Okay hunny it's okay, come on now." She pulls you outside and to the curb where a black Audi is waiting. The cold air assaults your bare legs and your teeth start to chatter. The driver recognizes his passenger is quite inebriated and gets out, walking towards the struggling pair.

You feel your bedroom eyes creep up when you see him. Oh no, he's hotttt!

You curse in your head silently for not checking your reflection before he got there. You're sure you're a hot mess though.

He's tall, huge, even. Definitely way over six feet. Dark tousled hair with dreamy brown eyes underneath sculpted brows are locked on you as he gets closer. You instinctually run a hand through your hair, trying to make it look more voluminous. Probably a lost cause at this point.

He's wearing black joggers with some worn Nikes. His black hoodie is baggy but you have a very good imagination. It covers a set of broad, wide shoulders and what you're sure are bold chest muscles underneath that lead to a delicious pair of V lines and an endearing happy trail of hair running down his belly button that lead directly to his-

"Can I carry something for you?" His rich voice pulls you out of your indecent thoughts for one second then sends you right back there again.

"Um, yes can you get her shoes please?" You hear Reagan's voice go up an octave.

Girlll me too. You think to yourself.

Miguel takes your heels in a pair of strong, large hands. As he does, he tugs his sleeve and checks a black Apple watch, veins running up a thick forearm. Called it. This guy was jacked. Probably a gym bro. Definitely has a girlfriend. You feel yourself get sucked back into reality. You were probably a 7/10 at best. And right now, probably a strong 4 after your shenanigans tonight.

Miguel opens the back door, allowing Reagan to tuck you in.

"Get home safe hunny," she says.

"Thank youuuu," you slur back to her as you sit, disheveled with your sippy cup of ice water in the backseat opposite of the driver's in front. Miguel gets in the driver's seat, the scent of Old Spice seeps in.

He smells good too?! You feel yourself wanting to sin. He sits in the front seat for a few moments in silence, fiddling with his phone.

"2949 Ocean Parkway?" he asks in his mesmerizing voice.

"Yeah, that's right." You feel yourself perk up. You're starting to sober up slightly but you still have enough liquid courage left to start asking him a lot more questions than you normally would.

"Your name's Miguel?"

"Yes," he answers. "Did you have a good night tonight?"

"I did! It was supposed to be girl's night, I'm not sure what happened to them, though."

"Your friends left you?" His dark eyes glance in the rearview mirror at you.

Sighhh "Yeah, I guess they did."

"You need better friends." One of his hands comes up and grips the shoulder of the passenger seat as he sits up and looks over his shoulder, his eyes meet yours for just a moment, then focus on the back window as he pulls out of the parallel parking spot. You can't help but stare at his chiseled jawline and his neck, imagining yourself planting a line of kisses on it while he groans and grits his teeth...

"You know what sounds amazing right now?" You ask in a flirty tone, interrupting your own dirty thoughts.

He cracked a small smile. "What's that?"

"Taco bellllll." You rest your cheek on the shoulder passengers seat, looking at him.

He glances at you, then keeps looking ahead as he drives.

"Well, if you want to update the route I'd be happy to stop anywhere you want."

You laugh.

"I don't know how to do thattt." The car comes up to a red light.

"Here, want help?" Miguel looks over at you as you hand him your phone which has the app still opened, courtesy of Reagan helping you from before. Miguel quickly types, his eyes going from the traffic light to your phone as he tries to enter the new address for the closest Taco Bell.

"Got it," he hands you back your phone, another whiff of his cologne coming off the fabric of his hoodie as he moves his arm back to rest on the center console while he drives with his left hand.

You glance down at your phone and then back at him, still leaning forward with your cheek pressed against the back of the passenger seat.

Unbeknownst to you, Miguel was curious about his new passenger, probably the last ride he'll do tonight. He didn't get a good look at you when the bartender was putting you in his car. He glanced over at you again when he thought you weren't looking, but quickly moved his eyes back to the road when he saw you were staring at him already with your cheek pressed against the passenger seat.

"You tired?"

"Kind of," you fake a small yawn while still holding your position.

Miguel laughed. He thought that was kind of amusing, how you were clearly faking being tired and shamelessly staring at him while he drove. He knew he was a good looking guy. Once you got into his car, he felt like he needed to take care of you and make sure you got home safe since your shitty friends wouldn't.

Your eyes wander to the space between his chest and the steering wheel, trying to imagine yourself in it, his strong arms wrapped around you as your hot, frantic, breaths fogged the windows as your bodies pressed together...

"So, y/n , right?" He asks.

Fuuuuck he said my name...

"Yeah..how did you know?! Oh right, the app, the app..."

Miguel smiles.

"So, Miguel, how is it being an Uber driver?" you ask. Feeling brave, you touch his elbow resting on the center console. Miguel's fist clenches tighter around the steering wheel at your touch.

"It's...not bad. It's been pretty busy tonight, actually. I went to the gym earlier then just have been taking a few folks like yourself around town who were going out as well. "

"That's nice. You know, we're gonna be best friends by the end of this drive," you grin, taking another sip of ice water.

"Really?" Miguel smirks. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Your heart flutters at this question. Why is he asking me that?!

"Uhm, no.. I was talking to a guy but I think he ghosted me."

"Heh, I'm sorry to hear that." Miguel replied, not sorry at all.

"Do girls ghost you? Or-uh, I mean- do you, do you have a girlfriend?" you manage to spit out.

Miguel smiles at your stutters.

"Nah, I'm single. I do have a daughter though."

Your smile disappears for a moment. A daughter? "Awhhh, what's her name? How old is she?"

"Her name's Gabriella. She's 6."

"That's sweet...." Miguel's handsomeness mixed with the liquor is enough to cause all rational thinking to exit your brain. I could be a step-mom, easy! I love kids, what the hell?

"So, how old are you?" You ask.

Miguel chuckles. "Isn't it rude to ask a stranger's age?" He glances over at you and the corner of his mouth raises at your slightly mortified expression. "I'm just messing with you- I'm 34."

"Dang, I'm 26," you answer as you look out the window.

"You're still pretty young," Miguel remarks as he turns down a new street.

"I definitely don't feel that way," you answer as you slump in your seat. You decide to check your email. Once you open it, a message that you don't want to see is at the very top. It's a random Yahoo email address you don't recognize which means only one thing: your asshole, estranged dad. You click on it quickly to clear the bold lettering indicating it's unread, and catch a quick glimpse of its contents which is a novel with no spacing. You quickly delete it with a loud sigh.

"Everything okay?" Miguel asks.

"Just my dad. Somehow he made another email address and tried to contact me again. It's a long story though we don't have to get into it..." your voice cracks slightly.

The skin around Miguel's eyes softens when you mention your tense relationship with your father. He himself knew that pain as well. His father, George O'Hara, wasn't a model parent, either.

"I'm sorry you're going through that," Miguel says emphatically. "I don't have the best relationship with my dad, either."

Once you hear this, the last bit of liquid courage in your system inspires you to spill the tea.

"He and my mom are divorced, and, well he's just a narcissist, right? Growing up, I didn't see it, but his whole family is full of them. My grandma never wanted him to marry my mom and so ever since their wedding day, she treated her like shit and when I came along, it was no different. I used to wonder why at Christmases she got bigger presents for the other grandkids and ask why she didn't show up for my birthday parties. My dad never did anything about it and always took their side. I finally realized it when I was about 16 when they divorced, and that's when I said fuck it. If you're not gonna stick up for my mom or me, I don't really want anything to do with you or your family."

Miguel nodded, just listening to you speak, glancing at you in the rearview mirror so you knew he was paying attention.

"Wow, I must say, that sounds horrible. Good on you for sticking up for yourself and your mother. As a parent myself, I can't ever imagine treating my own child or their family that way..."

You sigh.

"Yeah, shit's fucked. But there's nothing I can do about it, you know? I just don't have the strength to talk to him right now. But he never fails to try to reach out about this time every year. Since it's the holidays."

The car arrives at another red light. This time, Miguel turns around to face you while you're stopped, his eyes directly looking into yours.

"Don't feel guilty for doing what's best for you. No matter how hard it is. I know that most people think that family is everything, but, truth is sometimes they can hurt you the most." Miguel then turns back to the wheel.

You feel a flutter in your stomach as though an invisible spark appeared. You were strongly physically attracted to your handsome Uber driver, no doubt about it, but after hearing him speak, you realize there's more behind his captivating features. You feel the very beginning of a connection starting to form and suddenly you wish you had all night to talk to him. Miguel felt the same way, too. In fact, he was going 5 miles under the speed limit and riding the slow lane to try and prolong the encounter. Luckily, you were still too tipsy to notice.

"Well, this should cheer you up..." Miguel pulls the car into the Taco Bell parking lot. You groan internally when you realize you're going to have to go inside. You step out of the car, the cold air assaulting your bare skin again. Miguel notices you shivering.

"Here." Without hesitation, he peels off his hoodie and hands it to you. You want to die as soon as you put it on, and once you see him standing there without it on. He's even more toned than you realize. He's wearing a grey athletic shirt that hugs his broad shoulders just right, his defined chest and ab muscles tapering off into a narrow waist. His hoodie is still warm and smells intoxicating. You feel your hormones going crazy when you bring the collar of the hoodie to your mouth and nose, shamelessly getting drunk on the scent he left behind...

You do a mini sprint to catch up to him as he's already making his way towards the restaurant.

Miguel looks at you from the corner of his eye and his heart skips a beat. He adores the way his oversized clothes drown you. The hoodie is big enough to be a dress on you. He imagines this would be how you two would look together getting a bite to eat, only after making you scream his name 30 minutes before....

You and Miguel enter the Taco Bell and he gives an awkward grin as he holds the door open for you.

"Why don't you sit down or use the restroom if you need, let me order for you," Miguel says.

Your heart melts, but you decide you better seem modest with your order.

"Umm just a gordita crunch, small Baja blast, and a 2 pack of Cinnabon delights please."

Miguel smiles. "You got it." Suddenly, he feels close to you. You trusting him to order food for you and take you home after a rough night out while letting you wear his clothes.

While you go into the bathroom, he approaches the counter.

"Hello, I need two gordita crunches, a large Baja Blast, and a 12 pack of Cinnabon delights, please" He takes out his card and pays for the food without a second thought.

Meanwhile, you come out of the bathroom after cleaning up a bit, still wrapped in his warm hug of a hoodie and wait near the door. Miguel strolls over with your food and grins at you.

"Are you ready to go?" You nod and grin back and you two make your way back to his car. Suddenly, you realize.

"Do you have Venmo? Let me know how much I owe you."

"Absolutely not." Miguel answers firmly. "Here, why don't you sit up front this time?" He opens the passenger door for you. You beam at him.

Is this real? Is this guy really doing all this for me and I just met him? You've never had a man treat you this well. Not even your last relationship could be bothered to hold a door open for you or pull out a chair. You get in and Miguel hands you your bag of food, the delicious aroma making your stomach growl. Your eyebrows scrunch in confusion when you realize there's a lot more food in the bag than you told him to order originally. Miguel gets in the car and starts to drive again.

"Did, did you order extra food for me?" You laugh as you turn to him. Miguel gives you a small half smile but says nothing. You take a bite of the gordita crunch and let out a loud, "Mmmmmmm!" Just what you've been craving all night.

"Thank you, thank you so much you have no idea..." Your sentence tapers off as you stuff one of the piping hot Cinnabons into your mouth.

"You're very welcome." Miguel answers as you arrive at another red light. You realize Miguel didn't get himself anything.

"Do you want a Cinnabon bite?" You hold the box and give it a little shake.

Miguel offers a polite smile. "No thanks, those are all for you."

"Whaat, you can't turn down one of these. Have you even had these before?" You say playfully.

He chuckles at your playful tone. "I haven't, actually. But I trust your judgement."

"Come onnn...it's the LEAST I can do after everything you've done for me tonight. You're seriously gonna make me feel SO bad if you don't take at LEAST one." You give the box a couple shakes as if it's going to entice him more.

Miguel sighs. "Alright, you got me. I'll try one."

You smile wide as he takes one of the Cinnabon bites from the box you're holding in an outstretched hand. Your smile almost breaks your face as you see his reaction to his first bite.

"Jesus.." he mutters as his brows furrow in disbelief. He looks down at the remaining bite in his fingers as though he can't comprehend its existence. "That's spectacular, actually."

"Have another one!" You beam.

"Don't mind if I do." Miguel pops another one in his mouth and he brakes again at another red light.

He glances over at you and notices a little bit of taco sauce on the corner of your lip. "You got something..."

Suddenly, your heart stops as he raises his hand to your face, cupping your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, while his middle finger cradles your chin. His lips part in concentration as he gently presses his thumb against the corner of your mouth, retrieving the smudge of taco sauce. Your mouth falls open a little bit too. He gives you a little smile as he brings his thumb to his own mouth, cleaning the sauce from his finger.

That might have been the hottest thing you've ever seen in your life. At this point, all you want to do is grab his face and make out with it. Traffic be damned, your runny mascara be damned, your deflated hair be damned, you don't care anymore about any of that. He could ask you to do anything and you'd give it to him without hesitation.

Miguel is thinking the same thing. He did that on purpose. If it wasn't anymore obvious he wanted you right now then he wasn't sure what was. His gaze falls back to your lips. He suddenly realizes you've begun to lean in closer to him. Your noses are inches away from each other. God, he wanted you. To lick passionately into your mouth with his tongue. Being able to hold you and grip your ass as though he was a starved man who couldn't get closer to you even if he tried. Watching your brow furrow with pleasure, hearing your voice and watching your breath fog his windows and the heat rising in his body knowing he was the cause...

Reality busts in like the Kool-Aid man.

She was drinking tonight. You just met her. She's your passenger. Technically, you're still working right now...No, it's not right...

Miguel pulls away suddenly, and, as if the universe has his back, the traffic light turns green and he presses the gas, driving once more. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart starts to pound again.

Doesn't he like me? What happened....? What did I do....? Did I misread the signs? I wanna hide in my room for the rest of my fucking life now.

You clear your throat and take a long sip of Baja Blast. The uncomfortable silence and tension becomes a thick fog. You recognize your apartment building coming into view and your heart sinks.

"Home sweet home..." Miguel pulls into the parking lot. "Is here a good place to drop you off?"

"Yeah..." You try to make your tone sound like it's back to business. Miguel nods and grips the steering wheel with both fists in the 12 o' clock position as he watches you gather your things.

Ask for her number, you fucking pussy... Truth is, when it came to matters of the heart, Miguel's heart was glass.

"Thank you for the ride and the food, and, and just everything..." you step out of his car, defeated. You really didn't want to be the one to make the first move. If he really wanted to he would...

Miguel looks back at you with a neutral expression.

"Of course. You have a safe night, now." He starts to pull away.

"Miguel!" You realize you're still wearing his hoodie and you go to take it off.

He looks at you through the rolled down window, still driving away and shoots you a gorgeous smile and shakes his head at you in refusal, giving you one last wink that nearly knocks you over.

You sigh with frustration and watch his car disappear into the night, trying to memorize his license plate but your brain is hazy and the numbers on it escape your mind as soon as they enter. Your heart leaps in your chest when you realize you might be able to contact him through the Uber app...

No no, you let him talk to you first. Did your last situationship teach you nothing, you dumb hoe?! Don't be that desperate girl...

You wrap the droopy arms of his hoodie around yourself as you walk up the stairs and take a deep sniff...burying yourself in his scent so you never ever forget it. Even if he didn't want to spend the night holding you, you could go to bed with a huge smile on your face knowing you walked away with a piece of his clothing, the essence of what he left behind wrapped around your body all night long. An intangible connection that bound you two together...

Miguel sighed as he drove away. He just didn't have the bravery tonight. He didn't want to come across as creepy. The reality is, you were a slightly intoxicated stranger, a vulnerable woman younger than him, and he didn't want to abuse his power over you in that way. He looked at the empty passenger seat next to him and laid one of his hands on it, feeling the warmth you left behind. Trying to remember the way your thighs pillowed on it...the way your soft lips opened in shock when he wiped the sauce from your mouth, the small line of saliva from you that he caught on his thumb and licked into his own mouth..

He inhaled deeply, his jaw tensing and speed on the road increasing as he felt his body getting hot... He tried to lock your perfume in his nose for as long as he could, imagining himself inhaling it directly from your soft neck... holding onto the remainder of your presence, just...just until he could get home and relieve himself of his dire wants...

You, the perfect stranger who found herself in the passenger seat of his car tonight, and unknowingly wound up in the back of his mind for good...

-----

Hope you liked it! Thank you SO much for reading. ❤️ Part 2 is coming soon!

Pt 2

#miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #tension #fem reader #Spotify

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

like real people do – cl16 (+18)

masterlist

Summary: The one where you are having sex with your boyfriend, Charles, for the first time but he wants everything to be perfect for you.

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: smut (i can’t believe this day has arrived), absolute filth towards the end i'm so sorry mom, charles being a romantic dork, insecurities, obsessively planning something for it to only go wrong, cursing, fluff towards the end, google translate French, minors dni!!

Request: “Hi!!! Maybe you could do a first time with Charles Leclerc? Where he is upset because he wants everything to be perfect. And he whispers to her how much he loves her and her body. And maybe a sweet aftercare at the end?Just a suggestion <3 Have a nice day!”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! thank you so much for the feedback and love you’ve left on my last fic! this one was fun to write but please beware that this is my first-time writing smut in my life. thank you anon for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

Dating Charles is easy, you think. Not in a bad way, no. But in a way that makes it very easy for you to lost yourself in him and your love for him, which doesn’t make you feel scared whether you guys are moving too fast or too slow. Charles always tells you that you should live your life on your own pace, without any comparison to other people’s – although he doesn’t seem to practice what he preaches, both figuratively and literally on the track.

You love the story of how you two met, and you know he does, too. He brings it up often when the two of you are on a date, sharing the last course of the night, dessert, even though the two of you are probably full and can’t possibly eat anymore. The two of you met almost a year ago, in France actually, after the disaster of a race. Charles was forced by his friends, mainly Pierre, to go out for the night to hopefully have some drinks and let off some steam. You, on the other hand, were on possibly the worst date you could ever remember being on in your entire life. Therefore, being the only two people who are having the worst time in the small bar, you two met on the back patio where you thought you’d be able to get some alone time. Although the two of you don’t hit it off immediately, the only thing you could think about by the end of the night is when you might see the Monegasque with the dimples again. You guys don’t start dating immediately either, no, because Charles insists that it is important for you two to get to know each other as friends first. You agree, mostly because he is right, and also because you are impressed by the fact that he is showing emotional maturity in a way you did not experience in your past relationships before. But it is easy with Charles, even if he has an inhumane work schedule most of the year and your guys’ schedules don’t match up most of the time, you make time for each other. He knows how much your career means to you and you know the same goes for him so the two of you are very careful not to cross any lines. That doesn’t mean that Charles doesn’t spend all of his free time with you, of course.

Another interesting thing about your relationship is the fact that you two haven’t had sex yet, although you’ve been together for a while. Some people are genuinely shocked to find this little fact out, for example when you told Lily she almost dropped the coffee mug she was carrying, or sometimes Charles’ friends like to make fun of the situation, mostly Pierre (in reality, only Pierre), though it’s all in good fun. You don’t feel weird about the fact that you two haven’t slept together yet, but you ask him whether there’s a certain reason why and Charles’ answer turns you into a sobbing mess in his arms. He explains that while he would love to fuck your brains out – in the most respectful way possible – but he want is to be perfect for your first time. In his mind, he is trying to show you how serious he is about your relationship by slowing down the pace and taking his time, and when he’s finally able to put it in words, they make you tear up in the best way possible. That’s not to say that the two of you didn’t partake in other forms of sexual intimacy per se. For example, there’s that one time where he came into his driver’s room after a particularly adrenaline filled race and dropped to his knees for you – you can still recall the devilish smile on his face and the fact that he never took his eyes off of you, not once. There was the time after the FIA Prize Giving Ceremony, of course, where the two of you managed to sneak out of the ceremony into one of the bathroom stalls and this time you were the one on your knees for him. In conclusion, neither of you feel you’re missing out on anything just because you haven’t had sex yet.

It’s a couple of months after the last time you brought up the topic of having sex when the two of you stumble onto the topic again. It’s by an accident, really – and not much of a discussion, only a couple of words exchanged between the two of you. The two of you are watching a new movie which finally made its way onto Netflix, and you’re very happy with your place on the couch – squeezed between the cushions with the side of Charles’ body, which is very warm and making you a little sleepy to be honest. However, your sleepy mood is quickly wiped away when you realise the soft moans coming from the TV. You let your eyes take in the scene before you, the actors on the screen not slowing down for a second when you realise Charles’ breathing has gone deeper. He involuntarily tightens his arm around your shoulders, pressing you more into his sides.

“Charles,” you mumble, bringing your gaze up to him and swallowing a deep breath once his green eyes meet yours.

“Yes, chérie?” Although the focus on his eyes are on you, you can tell that he is also very much aware of the developing scene on the TV. His eyes widen when he realises what your silent request is and he exhales sharply. “Chérie…”

You hide your face in his neck at the gentle rejection he offers, leaving soft kisses across the skin left open from the neckline of his hoodie. “Please, mon coeur.” You think your choice of words does it for a second. It usually does it, when you speak French because you don’t do it very often, but one look in his eyes tells you tonight won’t be the night. “But why?” you whine, almost childishly, burying your face deeper in his neck.

“Because you need perfection, mon amour.” He replies, but there is a strain in his voice due to the tightness in his sweatpants.

“I don’t need perfection.” You grumble, your sexual tension feeling overwhelming for the moment.

“Maybe not,” Charles replies, taking a deep breath. “But you deserve it.”

You inhale deeply at his words too, occupying your hands with the strings of his hoodie. “Soon?” you ask in a hopeful voice.

He leaves a soft kiss on your hairline with an affirmative hum. “Soon,” he promises.

It’s a couple of weeks later that incident when you find yourself back in his apartment in Monaco. Due to the flexibility your work provides now that you’re taking on more freelance roles. Charles was worried you took the step because of his own schedule, but you quickly assured him that you were feeling burnt-out because of the 9-to-5 hustle. So when you step in his apartment that evening, you take in the sight with a small smile on your face.

“Honey, I’m home!” You announce your arrival, presenting the flowers in your hand with a proud expression as you enter the kitchen.

“Chérie!” He welcomes you, walking towards you from behind the counter and engulfing you in one of his bear hugs – which are your favourite, of course. “Welcome home, I’ve missed you.”

“Well, then maybe you shouldn’t sent me out to get my nails, you silly goose.” You giggle, getting out of his arms and leaving a kiss on his cheek to go find a vase for the bouquet in your hands.

“I needed time, and you know why.” He crosses his arms in his chest and a small smirk finds a place on his face as he raises his eyebrows. “You bought me flowers?”

“Well, yes,” You shrug, “everyone deserves flowers, no?”

“Hm,” he lets out a small hum, and gets behind you while you’re filling up a vase with water. He places his chin on your shoulder as he speaks in a low voice. “I got you flowers as well; you know.”

“Oh, I know, I saw them on the dining room table.” You smile as you look at the flowers placing them on an empty place on the counter and turning your head back to look at Charles. “I love them, thank you, darling.”

He kisses your lips softly, “I’m glad you like them.” He perks up when the oven timer indicates that the dinner is ready. So he takes your hand and walks you towards the door, “You go wait in the dining room, I’ll be right over.”

He comes into the dining room a little while later carrying a pizza presented on a large plate with what you think to be artistically placed basil leaves. You smile widely at him while he puts the plate on the table and serves the two of you. “You cooked me pizza?” You ask, pressing your lips together to prevent you from smiling like a maniac.

“I know it’s your favourite.” He smiles wildly right back at you, motioning your plate. “You first, I wanna see your reaction.”

“Okay!” You answer him, picking up the slice and taking a bite out of it. As you start to chew the piece, you widen your eyes and let out a hum to disguise your reaction. Although it takes you a minute or two to swallow the piece in your mouth, his excited eyes never leave yours for a moment. “It’s great! Which recipe did you use, honey?”

“I’m glad you asked,” he answers you, picking up his own piece, “it’s a recipe I found online.” He bites a mouthful out of the pizza and as he begins to chew, his eyes widen and suddenly he is spitting the food into a napkin as politely as he can. “Jesus, what’s wrong with this thing?” His eyes move towards your face and widens even more. “Chérie, you can’t possibly like this.”

“What, no!” You say, dragging out the last letter. “It’s great, Charles, really.” You start to take another bite, but he stops you with an incredulous look on his face.

“Chérie, non! You’re going to give yourself food poisoning!” He shakes his head, and takes out his phone to check the recipe after you ask him once again which recipe he used. “It’s the one from ‘Food Network’. It’s supposed be edible, no?”

“Oh, Charles.” You sigh, softly, looking over the American measurements instead of the European ones.

His confused eyes find yours. “What?” he asks with a genuine concern.

“They are in the American form, not the European ones.” You answer, a hand stroking his forearm in attempts to bring him sympathy.

“Oh my god, I– I’m sorry, chérie.” He sighs, leaning his head back towards the back of the chair and letting out a frustrated groan. “I am stupid.”

“You are not stupid, Charles.” You assure him, you hand is still on his arm to hopefully convince him that he is not, in fact, stupid. “It’s a common mistake.”

“But non, it was supposed to be edible!” He points to the dough on your plate frustratedly and adds, “I even got you the wine you liked so we could share it.”

“You got me wine to share?” You ask him softly. “But you don’t even like wine.”

His answer is simple. “But you do.” He takes a moment to reflect and then brings his hands up to cover his face. “Oh my god, I forgot to take the wine out of the freezer.”

“Charles, please,” You try to move his hands from his face, but he stubbornly keeps them there, letting out a groan in the process. “Okay, nope, enough.” You announce, getting up from your chair and try to forcefully pull him out of his chair.

“No, mon amour, stop.” He argues, but you keep pulling him towards the bedroom with still chanting the words; no and nope.

When you finally get to the bedroom and open the door, you’re quite surprised to find another surprise there. You let your eyes wander through the rose petals and candles in the room – though, yes, it is a bit cheesy, you know the reason he went to this far is only to make you feel special and appreciated. “Charles,” you say his name with softness, and emotion, and (maybe) with tears but your hand in his tightens the moment you lay your eyes on him. “I love you, God, I love you.”

“I love–” He can’t finish the rest of his sentence because suddenly you pull his face against yours, and press your lips onto his. His hands are quick to find your waist, and pull you against him. His movements are slow as he leads you towards the bed, but he lets you have control over the kiss and tries to match your rhythm as you deepen the kiss. As you get closer to the bed, one of his hands find your ass and when he squeezes the flesh under his hands, he is also quick to swallow your moans in his kiss.

You let out a protesting hum when he tries to put you on top of the bed, so he slowly pulls away from the kiss and raises his eyebrows questioningly. “No.” You murmur, quickly switching your positions and gently pushing him to sit on the bed. “My turn.” You quickly place yourself to sit on his lap with a playful smile on your face. You let your hands wander across his shirt-clad chest, quickly starting to unbutton it while keeping your eyes on his. He assists you when you try to pull his shirt off of him and sigh dreamily at the sight, and softly pushing him on his shoulder to lie down on the bed. You proceed to drop your head and press kisses to anywhere and everywhere on his skin. You start with his lips, which he tries to deepen but quickly gives up because he understands what you’re trying to do, then his jaw and neck, his chest and eventually through the happy trail which leads your mouth to the destination you were hoping to achieve. Your start to unbutton his pants and try to undo his belt buckle, but he stops your shaky hands to bring you back up despite your protests.

“No, chérie, not tonight.” Although his tone is firm, you try to get back to your previous position in hopes that we will let you. However, he tightens his hands on your hips to keep you in place as he pulls you close and whispers, “I said no, mauvaise fille.” bad girl. A smirk threatens to etch itself on his face when he hears your soft whine at his attempt to chastise you. He brings one of his hands to rest on the juncture of where your jaw meets your neck and allows his thumb to caress your bottom lip. “You’re going to let me worship you, n'est-ce pas? wont you? Before I fuck you, I mean.”

Your breath nearly gets stuck in your throat, but you manage to let out a soft, “Charles.”

“Tell me, mon amour, or I won’t touch you tonight at all.” There is a mischievous look on his face which is laced with months of built-up sexual tension – rather a dangerous combination, you reckon.

“Y-yes.” You breath out. “I will let you.”

“You will let me do what, my love? Say it in French.” He moves his hand to cover your neck and applies the smallest bit of pressure he knows you like, enough to keep you on your toes but not enough to cut the air completely or leave any bruises. “You know I love it when you speak in French.”

“Je– Charles.” You quickly give up as you try to string the correct words together but his persistent gaze has you trying again and again to find the right ones. “Je te laisserai me toucher.” I will let you touch me.

The smirk on his face turns wicked as he clicks his tongue. “Ne touche pas, dis-moi le mot juste, chérie.” Not touch, tell me the correct word, darling. “I won’t touch you tonight if you don’t tell me,” he reminds you.

You let out a whine as you try to move your hips to gain some friction for relief, but his hand, which is still on your hip, stops you from doing so. Moving your hands to slowly hold his wrist, which belongs to the hand currently wrapped around your neck, you look him straight in the eyes with a panic. “Adorer! Je te laisserai m'adorer!” Worship, I will let you worship me!

“Bonne fille,” Good girl, he mumbles getting you out of your dress in no time. But he takes time with your underwear, allowing his fingers to explore as he teases you – no doubt. He slowly lays your body on top of the bed, and moves his body to sit between your parted legs. “Beautiful,” he whispers as he lets his eyes wander through the curves of your body, your chest, and eventually the wet spot between your legs. “Are you wet for me, my love?”

You nod timidly, partly due to the fact that you’re completely naked while he only has his shift off. It’s not that you two haven’t been naked together before, but it feels much more different this time compared to before. “Charles, please.” Your whine is much high in pitch this time, feeling needier as the minutes go by. “Please, do something.”

“I will, mon chérie, don’t worry.” He moves down on the bed and lowers himself on his knees and pulls your legs over his shoulders. “Just don’t forget to tell me if it gets to much, okay?”

“Okay– my God, Charles!” You throw your head back as Charles begins his mission – which must be, when looking back, eating you out like a mad man because the second he places his tongue on your slit, he begins to devour you as if he’s been starving for years. As he licks and nips and sucks at you skin, you have no control over the reactions your body supplies him with, which is mostly chanting his name over and over again. And you are pretty sure that he becomes more motivated to make cum every time your voice gets higher both in voice and pitch. You don’t know how long it has been and how many orgasms he’s given you just with his mouth and fingers. Three? Four? Five? You’re not sure – but the one thing you know is that when you’re just about to come again, you weave your hands through his hair and pull hard. In retrospect, it seemed like a good idea, but you come to regret that decision when Charles takes your clit between his lips and sucks just as hard, guiding through a mind-blowing orgasm which leaves you shaking and arching your back against the Monegasque. Just as you thought that would be it, he begins to restart his fingers’ movements, which has you pushing his head off of your pussy in an attempt to stop him. “Charles, I can’t anymore!”

That seems to do it, because with a feverish look on his face, Charles lifts his head up and holds on to your thighs which are still on the either side of his head. “What’s wrong, mon amour?”

“I can’t – I’m sorry,” you babble through the involuntary tears, mostly due to the force of your orgasm – which does leave him worried but he lets you finish your thoughts before he takes any action. “Please just fuck me.”

“Shh,” he soothes you, leaving small kisses to your upper thighs and moves himself to hover over your body. “You did so well, bonne fille.” He strokes your hair as he whispers sweet nothings to your ear, helping you to calm down and regulate your breathing before the two of you continue. “Breath, bonne fille, ma bonne fille.”

You listen to him as he gives you instructions, breathing deeper breaths and trying to keep your focus on his eyes while you do so. Your hands grip his biceps tightly when he makes a move to get up, the look in your eyes becoming panicky once again. “Where are you going?”

His hand continue its movements in your hair as he smiles at you softly. “I’m going to grab a condom, and be right back, okay?”

“Don’t.” You croak, your throat becoming dry as you keep talking and start blushing akin to a lobster. “I’m on birth control.”

“Chérie,” Charles starts, “Y/N, we can’t–”

“Please, I just wanna feel you.” The softness of your voice tugs at his heartstrings as you add, “Only if you want to.”

“Of course, I want to, you silly girl.” Charles assures you quickly and gets out of his trousers and boxers, and positions himself between your legs with the head of his cock pressed to your opening. He moves his eyes from you pussy to your face, locking his gaze with yours as he speaks again, “I’m going to go slow, okay?” He waits for your reaction before starting to move his hips, his cock moving inside you in a slow pace. As he continues the movement of his hips your lips part and a moan resembling his name come out. He stops at a certain point and gives you a moment to adjust, then moves his hips backwards enough that he gets out of you, but he is quick to slip back in and continue his movements up to the point he let you get adjusted to.

You let out a whine, which prompts him to raise his eyebrows in question, which you reply with a nod of your own. You wrap your legs around his hips, the skin-to-skin contact feeling nice, and push him deeper inside you which results in you actually screaming his name. If you thought feeling him before that moment was pleasurable, felling all of him inside you all at once feels as if you’ve achieved some sort of nirvana. “Deeper, please, plus profonde.”

“I’ve got you, darling.” He manages to get out, moving his hips faster and deeper at the same time and hitting the spot which causes your eyes to roll back to your head every time. “You have no idea how beautiful you look like this, right now. Mon chef-d'œuvre, tout à moi.” My masterpiece, all mine.

With your entire body shaking with the movement of Charles’ hips, you still manage to nod your head. “All yours, Charles.” Your hands squeezing his biceps for support, “I love you, je t'aime tellement.” I love you so much.

“God, I love you so much.” He lets out a groan, and drops his head to your neck to press kisses and suck your skin between his lips in an urgent need to leave his mark on your body. “Je promets que je t'aimerai pour toujours.” I promise I'll love you forever.

Your hands move to weave through his messy hair, pulling him closer in an attempt to keep him closer to your body – which proves a challenge because the two of you are already wrapped around each other. “I’m close, mon coeur.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He breathes on your neck, his warm breath making you shiver under the weight of his body. He puts his weight on one of his arms and moves the other one towards your body, this fingers quick to find your clit as he begins to circle it. “Come for me so I can fill you up, hm? You want that, don’t you?”

You nod your head and let him take you there for the last time that night, your orgasm coming in stronger than the previous ones due to the overstimulation Charles thankfully provided. “I do, I do, I really, really do.” Your legs tighten around his hips and your hands slip down his back as you claw at the skin there while your hips lift off the bed, causing you to arch your body to mold his.

He only lets himself come when he’s guided you through yours, his fingers slowing down without stopping when he’s emptying himself into you. The moan he gets out, muffled because his head is still buried in your neck, quickly becomes one of your favourite sounds in the world. He holds you close as he slips out of you, the small wince on your face not going unnoticed by him, and he pulls you towards him when he drops next to you on the bed. Charles listens to your breathing for a while, only to find you looking at him with sleep evident in your eyes and a pleased smile on your lips. “Comme c'est joli.” How pretty. He says, “And all mine.”

“All yours,” you sigh, but your voice coming off sleepy. “I’ve always been all yours.”

His fingers draw random shapes on the bare skin on your back as he raises an eyebrow. “Is that so?”

“Hm, tu sais que c'est vrai.” You know it’s true. You mumble, snuggling closer to the driver wrapped around you. “I love you, mon amour.”

“I love you too, chérie.” He kisses the side of your head. “The next time we do this, I’m making you edible pizza, though.”

“I don’t need pizza.” You laugh softly, “only you.”

“Still,” Charles shrugs, “now go to sleep so I can take you out to breakfast tomorrow.”

#monzabee #requests open #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 smut #formula 1 #fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #imagine #fluff #angst #smut #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fluff

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aseaofyoongi · 1 year

Text

behind pixels: sequel | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: sex worker au (jk)

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: after visiting a certain little app where a guy assisted you during a very stressful night, you realize the man is closer to you than you think.

warnings: not another continuation to a college au. . yes, yes it is; a bit of fluff, a but of smut; wetdreams-ish; masturbation; clitorial stimulation; fingering; in a public location… if you know what i mean; penetrative sex; unprotected sex; oc is a bit insecure; crush culture; i think that’s it honestly

word count: 12.7 thousand words

posted: may 13, 2023

notable songs: self control - frank ocean | love is only a feeling - joey bad$$ | day dream - destin conrad | fire in the sky - anderson paak

It’s been two weeks.

An entire fourteen days since you were blessed with JK’s instructions as assistance to a night of relief from a collection of frustrating days.

The night when his thunderous voice soothingly lead you towards the most delicious orgasm you’ve experienced. Days after that very event you found yourself dwelling in the fanasities he had communicated from the other side of the screen — dusting off the records stored deep in your brain. All you wanted, all you craved was his voice, his attention, and the one thing you had not been able to experience yet, his touch.

After locking your dorm room door, you removed you shirt and shorts before plopping down on your cotton bed sheets. Your eyes were shut tightly blocking out the brightness from the lamp on the nightstand, with the constant linger of JK in your head your hand began traveling lower until it finally pushed past the hem of your panties. The feeling of your fingertips against your clit sent bolts of electricity en route down your back. You began, working towards that same finish line you’d once crossed when talking to JK on Eargasm. But it wasn’t the same, it’s like you were on that same road you once were but your destination moved farther and farther into the horizon.

Still, with beads of sweat streaming down your temples and with your right hand going numb you continued to rub circles against the sensitive bud in-between your folds.

“Come on, come on,” you huffed as your already muggy dorm became hotter and hotter.

But it wasn’t working — It was useless. Your fingers were useless.

“Doll,” you heard his voice from across the room.

“JK?” your eyes flew open envisioning the man you’ve only spoken to from behind your computer screen. You weren’t sure why but it was so hard to draw the connection between the two of them. There was JK, the man who helped you just a few nights ago with his alluring utters. Then, there was him, still JK only he was the boy who sat behind the front desk in the student center with his nose constantly stuck behind a book. They were the same person but they couldn’t be any more different.

Standing at completely different ends of the road. One became the personification of all of your carnal desires, while the other hid behind a clear shell unbeknownst to the effects his beauty had on you, on all of those around him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, dazed by the fact that he was here. . in your dorm and you were semi naked in his presence yet again, “how did you find out where I live? How did you get in?”

“Don’t worry doll,” he still wore the black mask he wore when he was on camera with you but you could tell by the way his eyes crinkled up that he was smiling behind the dark cloth, “I’m here to help. And by the looks of it seems like you just might need my assistance once again.”

He nodded in the direction of your hand buried under the fabric of your panties.

“I don’t have a masturbation addiction, OK?” you sat up on the bed resting your back on the headboard.

“I never said that,” he chuckled, “if you haven’t noticed I’m a sex worker and if anything, I’m addicted to making people cum.”

“Right.” You cleared your throat, his bluntless shooting straight down to your core.

“By my records I made you cum very. . very quickly,” yes, you were still succumbing to the endorphins of your thoughts circling around him — too focused on the way the bed dipped right beside you, “do you remember that?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, doll,” his hand landed right beside your thigh and he began gently stroking the fabric of your sheets, “don’t tell me you forgot already.”

“I didn’t,” there was a tingle slithering on the surface of your skin, “I was just thinking—“

“You’re thinking of him again aren’t you?” he shook his head, “just remember I’m just a couple messages away and he isn’t even around.”

“Him?” if only he knew. He was him.

“Him. That boy you told me about,” the pads of his fingers brushed against your thigh leaving a trail of goosebumps behind, “the one you said you were thinking about when you were touching yourself.”

“I wasn’t thinking of him.”

“Don’t spare my feelings doll. Tell me the truth. I can take it,” in a way he was right you were thinking of him, the boy from the student center but that also meant you were thinking of JK — how would you even go about explaining this situation to the very man who was clueless to the fact that he was the only person occupying your thoughts?

“When you wanna forget about him for a bit you know where I’ll be doll,” he leaned in and whispered in your ear softly, “I’ll show you a good time.”

His cool breath met the shell of your ear almost in a slowed motion, it left you a shuddering mess. Overcome by the feeling of the electrical currents coursing through your veins. You were addicted to that very feeling but specially because you knew he was the only person who could make you feel what you felt.

“JK, I promise, I’m not—“ you opened your eyes only to be met by a vacant space beside you on the bed.

Fuck. Not again, not again, not again. Everytime you found yourself aiming lower in an attempt for self release he visited you. Storming your thoughts like a tropical storm and wreaking havoc in his path. Reminding you that your fingers no longer had a sense of direction in mapping out your fantasies.

Your fingers now entirely futile. All while your sexual frustrations rose and your cunt continued its rhythmic drumming mimicking a quickening heartbeat. It was increasingly painful and it reminded you of the ease you’d once experienced under JK’s ministrations.

“I’m going crazy. .” you whispered out into the void, “I’m going fucking crazy.”

Temptation drew you closer and closer to the laptop laid out on top of your desk. Although you tried to restrain yourself against it, leaning back on the feeling was much easier. And before you knew it you were sitting on the computer chair with the browser opened up staring right back at you.

In your mind, you typed out Eargasm over and over again — yet there was a hint of hesitation restraining your hands to the arm’s rest.

“He’s just a couple words and clicks away,” you typed out the letters but your hand remained hovering over the keys incapable of actually conducting the search. Surrounded by silence and the anxious streaks of hesitancy — there were an abundant number of questions clouding your mind. But the main one remained whether he would even want you there.

“Just do it, you little bitch,” realistically speaking the chance of JK being online was high, but wasn’t exactly the issue. You knew he extended an invitation for you to visit him at your leisure but in the back of your head you couldn’t help but wonder if you were pushing it demanding his attention this quickly?

The clacking of the keys echoed among the walls of your room. Immediately, your eyes were exposed to the bright turquoise full screen with the seven letters highlighted in a bright pink tone. The more you ogled the welcome screen the more you were consumed . . fervid with the excitement cooking up in your stomach as you came to terms with the fact that JK was so close. In a haste you clicked on the message icon wanting to pull up the very familiar username but to your demise there was a ruby colored ring surrounding his icon. He was with someone else. . Someone who wasn’t you.

This is his job. You repeated.

He does this every night. You repeated.

There was an aching sting springing in the center of your chest and while prior to that night your heart remained at a sinus rhythm, in this moment that changed and you could feel as the organ slowed pumping almost coming to a full stop.

It really shouldn’t sting but you couldn’t help that it did.

“Please tell me you’re planning to go back home at some point this summer,” your best friend approached the table you occupied on the second floor of the dinning hall.

“Not a chance,” you swayed your pointer finger left and right.

Though, campus was significantly bare during the following scorching months there was nothing to really go back home to. While, you didn’t necessarily have a bad relationship with your parents — they were just never there. The purpose for their living and breathing was reduced down to avoiding you so they became addicted to their jobs. A pair of workaholics looking to forget about their personal lives, which only resulted in becoming estranged to their only daughter in the process.

And at the end of the day you’d rather spend nearly all three-hundred and sixty five days of the year on school grounds as opposed to being cooped up in a ‘house’ with nothing but empty rooms and frigid hallways.

“I can’t believe you actually chose to stay here. If I were you I’d be springing right past those brick columns and archway,” she sighed resting her head on her palm.

“How about we actually get you to pass that pesky math elective so that we can get back to your family for the entirety of the summer.”

“What about you?” she asked.

“What about me?”

“What will it take to finally get you to go back home at least once next summer?”

“I don’t think anything is compelling enough for me to go back there and ruin my summer,” you shrugged while taking another bite of your sandwich.

“Come on,” she whined, “Nothing?”

You shook your head — there was nothing back home for you but stark loneliness. That was crystal clear to you.

“There’s not a special somebody waiting for you?” Once again, you shook your head.

Nada.

“So you’re telling me there's not a mystery man who’s the root of all your pent up sexual frustration?” She raised an eyebrow at you, clearly not believing a single word out of your mouth. You hushed her immediately, scanning your surroundings to make sure the people in the surrounding tables weren’t hearing in on your conversation. They weren’t.

“Can you shut the fuck up?”

“You act as if it’s a crime,” she rolled her eyes, “everyone masterbates and it’s actually healthy you know.”

“I would really appreciate it if we could hold this conversation until we are behind closed doors,” you uttered through gritted teeth, feeling like you had the label ‘recent masturbater’ plastered on your forehead.

“Fine,” she took yet another bite of your apple, “will you at least tell me if Eargasm helped you illustrate all of your wildest fantasies.”

“You make it sound like it’s some sort of elaborate form of art,” you guffawed.

Her bulging eyes stared at you as if you’d insulted one of her family members or a pet, “It is an art form. It definitely is. Just think how hard it must be to help someone get off by quickly reading their body language through a screen.”

“When you put it like that the guy I saw must be a magician,” God, you tried stripping all hints of excitement from your voice at the casual acknowledgment of his presence.

If anything JK himself was an art piece himself, illustrated onto the canvas with pristine brush strokes detailing all the perfect curvatures of his face and physique. He draped himself in dark hues and even within the square frame just hung on the wall he was a light source. One that demanded your attention, holding eye contact at all times and refused to let you dedicate even a bit of your attention to anything or anything who wasn’t him.

“What do you mean by that?” she squinted while crossing her arms at her chest.

“Well, for starters,” you shrugged, “I kind of never turned on my camera. . Not for the beginning of the session at least.”

“Not for the entire session?”

“Exactly.”

“Bitch, that was a question not a statement.”

You sighed; blanketed with bashfulness, “so after I requested a video session and he finally called I physically couldn’t hit the camera button.”

“And what did he say?”

“Nothing condescending,” you took a sip of your water, “he was actually really nice about it. That was pretty much the session.”

“But you insinuated you turned it on at some point?”

You stared out the glass windows adoring the wall beside the table — Now, you began to weigh your options. You could either deflate, avoid or confess. And at this point you were one hundred percent sure she has seen far too much. Much more than you ever intended to show anyone on this entire campus.

“I said that?” Avoid? Ok.

“You did. .” She pushed her chair closer to yours, perhaps her attempt at creating a concealed atmosphere.

“I have nothing to tell.”

You kissed her teeth simulating hints of annoyance at your discretion, “Bitch. . stop acting clueless. You’re a shit liar.” She eyed the way you anxiously played around with your hooped earrings.

“I’m not hiding anything” you let go of the silver jewelry and sat up on your chair, “And I’m not a shit liar.”

“Fine. Spare the juicy secrets.” She shrugged, “but at least tell me who you saw.”

After giving the tables around you a thorough scan to make sure he wasn’t near you finally whispered the only name you knew him by into her ear, “I almost chose Tae but then remembered you see him so I saw JK instead.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t cause Tae is mine,” she grinned like a fool. A love struck fool.

“Yours, as in yours and probably a hundred other girls. You know that, right?”

“That’s the crude reality isn’t it?” she sat the half eaten apple on the table huffing continuously like a mopey child, “how was JK though?”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and while there were a million praises you wanted to express, all of the words sat idle in the back of your throat, “he was good.”

“Just. . good?”

“Well, better than good actually,” you began, urging your mind to unscramble the words needed to amplify his saccharine aid, “He was gentle and patient. But even more than that he was also sweet and caring.”

“I’ve read this man’s description before so he has tattoos and an eyebrow piercing right?” you nodded in confirmation, “plus he’s a literal angel?”

“Pretty much.”

“Dear God, how are you even breathing right now?” she placed her arms at your shoulders and rocked you back and forth emphasizing your existence here on planet earth as you finally comprehended that you weren’t just living some sort of venereal dream.

“I-I honestly don’t even know,” the flashed lingers of that night resided in your mind in small clips — the more you tried to recall the amatory details the more your mind became cloudy, dazed in its own lustful elixir. A potion so potent you were still high days after just off that hour doze, “it was definitely a night.”

“You should visit him again,” she began poking your side, “I know you wanna see him again.”

“I don’t know,” you giggled, pushing yourself away from her finger, “I honestly think it was a one time thing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

General Ed classes were frankly the worst part of university. You couldn’t quite understand the need to take all of the same classes you took and passed in highschool just so that they could reaffirm that you could in fact do math or knew your basic knowledge of biology or chemistry.

It was bullshit — An evident cash grab scheme. All at the expense of dedicating one’s freshmen year attending classes we truly didn’t even really need applied to our major.

You could sincerely rant about this all day long but it was currently nine in the morning, you were running low, (very low actually), on coffee and you were already ten minutes late to your intro to biology class. Your pace was matched with long strides as you were practically running through the courtyard.

Finally pushing through the glass door you felt the way the blanket of sweat covered your forehead. Leaving your skin as bright as polished glass and your breath shortening as a result of the rapid trip between your dorm and the library.

“Fuck,” you were out of breath choosing to take a seat on the bench near the entrance for a seconds before reluctantly hoping back on your feet and trotting up the stairs to the computer room.

Looking through the door’s window you saw the professor lecturing away. You practiced about a dozen ways to go in before you finally convinced yourself to just barge in — which eventually you did but a wave of regret washed over you when the door behind you closed with a loud bang and suddenly all glares were on you.

“Sorry,” you muttered.

“No worries, it happened to almost everyone here. Seems like the door is louder than we perceived,” the professor replied.

Scanning around the mid-size room you saw foreign faces staring back at you until your bestfriends smiled beamed brightly from the table at the end of the room. She was sitting alone with two vacant chairs on either side “Yeah, seems like it.”

“Well, welcome to Intro to Conducting Research. I’m Mr. Kim.” he introduced himself with a tender smile, “I hope you found your way ok. I know this one’s kind of a hidden gem unlike the rest of the lecture halls.”

“It did take me just a bit of time,” you chuckled, suppressing your nerves as they quickly urged you to scramble away from the front of the class and just sink into a chair to prevent yourself from verbalizing anymore idiotic babbles and incoherencies, “is the seating assigned?”

“No, no go ahead and find a seat wherever you’d like. We were just getting started.”

Quickly, you found yourself plopping on the chair beside your bestfriend, puffing out the constrained breath that had taken your chest cavity hostage as a result of your embarrassing entrance. Mr. Kim continued his first day lecture which mainly consisted of a syllabus reading, his life’s story and the scrambled rules to an icebreaker on the white board.

“What do the icebreaker questions say?” your friend asked, squinting to get a better look at the board, “I left my glasses at my dorm.”

“Does it matter?” you slouched down aiming for complete comfort slinging your feet on the metal bar, “we literally know everything about each other already.”

“Bullshit, I have no idea what your name is. .” Her delivery was accompanied with low and raspy vibratos. If you didn’t know any better you would have thought she was mimicking Mr. Kim’s voice. She pulled her phone from one of the pockets of her book bags and began scrolling aimlessly.

Your chuckle was airy and quickly vanished when you heard the rusty hinges of the door wailing out. The loud noise from the door meeting the threshold startled you although your eyes were already glued to the front of the room.

“That door is going to drive me fucking crazy,” the exasperation in her words was evident and you were about to agree but suddenly, you had moved from your place right beside her — feeling like she was now miles away. While you were now in this narrow space similar to an alley or tunnel. In the distance you saw her still glued to her phone screen while sitting on the opposite end; succumbed to pitch blackness. Even as you stood and attempted to sprint in her direction you were condemned to the enclosed walls.

You couldn’t tell whether you were trapped within a dream or a nightmare but he was here.

JK was here.

That was the torment drumming itself amongst the walls of your skull as the beat etched the stills of that night deep into your brain. The night you swore you would forget yet here he was to remind you of every second of it. Yet, your gaze was focused on him and you just couldn’t peel your eyes away.

You’d concluded it was entirely his fault. He possessed the kind of beauty you’d only ever heard derived from the ancient Gods of Greece — and as if he was a descendant of Aphrodite he held distinct associations to his name. You would argue JK was synonymous to beauty (obviously), love, passion and most certainly lust.

You must have been deep in orbit because you couldn’t recall the first or the second or the hundredth time your friend called out for you, so much so that she began shaking you to get you to snap out of it.

“Cute boy is coming this way,” she nodded in his direction, and you quickly realized he was closer than you had perceived, “Look alive bitch. He definitely looks like your type.”

“I don’t have a type,” you whispered through gritted teeth — he was close now. Just a few feet away.

“Yes, you do,” she mumbled back, “he’s practically a carbon copy of your Eargasm boyfriend.”

“He’s not,“ you argued quietly.

With her giggles circling through the air and your bulging eyes of horror JK finally made it to the proximity of your table and his soft utters sent an algid shiver to take route on your skin freezing you right into place.

His name was Jungkook, you’d learned.

He was JK but he was also Jungkook.

Between unremitting stutters you introduced yourself briefly and he took the liberty of occupying the only vacant chair left in the classroom which also happened to be right next to your best friend.

Small talk was your kryptonite and while your friend excelled in keeping conversations alive, you sat opposite the two of them lulled into space. Making your best attempt to seem as least interested as possible. But the truth was whenever you heard his voice you thought a command would follow right behind it — just like the ones he communicated that night.

Your thoughts were scrambled into a mess and there was a dull ache in between your legs further accentuating the frustration you’ve felt for far too long.

“What about you?” he asked, his eyes were duly set on you.

“Huh?” his brown eyes were so much more invasive in person and you felt like he devoured you with them.

“Is this your second year too?” he repeated.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, “it is.”

“Don’t mind her,” your friend said, “she’s a little out of it.”

“It’s ok,” he smiled; and quickly you noticed the silver hoop sparkling on the corner of his lip. Was that always there? You hadn’t noticed before. “Being here for the summer has us all going a little crazy.”

“Is this your first summer here?”

He nodded, “I usually head back home for summer but I figured I would get my gen ed’s out the way.”

“We all had the same idea I suppose,” you contributed.

“It’s better than being here for a whole extra semester,” she played mindlessly with the zippers on her backpack.

“What about you guys?” he asked, “is this your first summer here.”

Your friend quickly began recounting her endless summer adventures from years prior. . far far away from campus. Jungkook nodded and they both reflected on the forsaken summer ahead. Deflated at the exceeding number of voyages they’ll be missing while condemned to remain on campus.

You couldn’t help but wonder about the things you had kept from yourself. . A lot perhaps.

With the company of the scorching heat of the summer months daylight savings time lurked right behind it—providing the longevity of the sun, as the Earth seems to lean a bit closer to the star and decrease its speed in rotation.

And here you were melting away by the very sun. Unbeknownst to the so-called wonders of the summertime. Barred from any of the memories everyone seemed to be defined by: the best months of the year, the best moments of your life they’d say.

While enthralled in your own thoughts you heard your friend’s voice though it was a bit muffled, still you were able to make out what she said, “Ellie is over there. I’m gonna go say hi. You two talk okay?”

Jungkook chuckled softly. Why would she say that? Ugh, she made it weird. She definitely made it weird.

“Is she always like this?” he asked, leaning a bit closer in your direction and although he still remained in his chair at a considerable distance, you could feel the waves of his body heat crashing against you.

“Always,” there was a hint of nervousness stained on your tongue but you swallowed it down. Or at least tried to, “life’s never boring when she’s around.”

“You guys been friends long?” he asked, gis voice still vibrated in your inner ear, sounding like the beat of drums. It truly did frazzle your nerves.

“Yeah, we’ve been friends for a bit.”

He nodded. Simply soaking in what you’ve said—there was nothing else to say but you urged to hear the strumming of his sweet words just once more.

“What about you,” you clasped your balmy hands on top of the table, “you got any friends around here?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded, “I have a couple. We all live near each other back home too so I’m never allowed a moment of peace.”

“Seems like we’re kind of living under the same pretenses.”

“Seems like it. Maybe, we could escape away together one day.”

Together? Did he just say together? As in the both of you, on the same route. . Intentionally, while in each other’s company?

The silence between the two of you was deafening, you became nearly incompetent; unable to communicate anything corrigible. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and your throat became dry. So fucking dry.

“Or-“ he began, seemingly taken back by your lack of verbal communication.

“Yes,” you finally said, “I’d like that very much.”

“You promise?”

“One day.”

The first week of research class was slow. . repetitive and you couldn’t help the way your thoughts wandered off to your conversation with Jungkook the first day of class. How you promised each other one day—Just one day but that was as far as it has gone so far.

Even though, in that moment, you couldn’t feel farther away from him.

You’d barely uttered a word to each other but the patented ‘hello’ and ‘bye’ but that was the extent of it. There had been nothing else. Plus he no longer sat near, he was three tables away with his friend, Namjoon who had switched in on day two of class.

You couldn’t ignore the ping in your heart when you walked in that day and you saw him that far away—You could no longer spark up nuisance conversations, or sneak glances when you pretended to write your notes or have the sweetness of his vanilla scent inundating your nostrils.

It has all gone to shit. With fervent frustration you trotted up the stairs to your dorm on the second floor. Looking forward to laying in the comfort of your bed until you have to physically peel yourself away from your sheets.

The first strike was pitched the moment you pulled out your key card from the back pocket of your jeans and it immediately hit the floor. Conducting a string of breathing exercises to ease your rising vexation you picked up the card once more and took a deep breath before sliding it into the reader. The world was pitted against you that day though, because as soon as you retrieved the card and reached for the knob the electronic lock dinged and flashed its red light.

You tried again and again and again—all your attempts leading to the same result. Until finally your irritation ran rampant through your veins and you continuously banged on your door with your balled fists as if that would have made a difference. There was no one on the other side who could possibly rescue you, your only solution lived in the student center. . Visiting the very booth occupied by a certain boy who lived in your heart and mind.

“Oh c’mon, not today,” you mumbled leaning against the cold wooden door, “fucking Monday’s are always shit.”

The way to the student center was not long at all but your calves were torched with the amount of walking you’d already done for the day. Luckily, as you pulled the door open the hallways were vacant which meant there were no lines and most importantly no waiting.

“Finally, this damned day might just be turning around,” you mumbled to yourself.

You walked down the corridor, entered the second to last room and there he was sitting behind the rectangle frame carved into the wall. Jungkook’s chin rested on his palm. His long strands were left in a disarray but it made it work. He truly did. The rest of his body was hidden behind the tall desk but even from your position near the door you could see the collar of his black t-shirt. Even as the bell on top of the door chimed his attention was consumed by the brightly lit screen laid out in front of him.

“Hi,” he greeted, not looking up in the direction of the door once, “welcome to card and ID services. How may I help you?”

“Is this how you greet all the students who pop in here?” you teased with what you recalled to be your most idiotic smile plastered on your face.

He chortled finally realizing who it was, “if I would’ve known it was you I would have given you my undivided attention from the moment you walked in.”

Realizing you stood without your friend as a shield for conversations, you swallowed your nervousness. “You say a lot but I bet you don’t mean half of what comes out of your mouth.”

“I live by codes of honesty, doll.”

There was a stumble in your step as soon as you heard the pet name he uttered through your laptop screen all those nights ago. The same one that had you lured under his spell, in a disarray of emotions, whimpering babbles of nothing at all and everything all at once.

“Whatever you say, Jungkook,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m actually here for a reason, not just for your charms and to see a pretty face.”

“Charms and a pretty face huh?” he smirked.

“Anyway,” you diverted the conversation away from your inane choice of words, “I’m actually here because I can’t open my dorm door with this thing anymore.”

“Is it working though?”

“No,” you slid the card over to him on the surface of the desk. You were hoping to get a peak of his tattoos as he reached out for it but he wore a hoodie. “it isn’t working like. . at all.”

“Actually, I was talking about my charismatic personality and dashing good looks.” His annoying and compelling magnetism had you in conflict between wanting to smack him upside the head or suck his dick behind the counter. “According to you of course.”

“Let’s table the cockiness for now and focus on the actual problem taking root,” you tapped your fingers in the plastic rectangular key.

Jungkook smiled and took the plastic key before sitting back on his office chair and typing away purposely into his keyboard. Even under the shitty lighting of this holed up office space his attractiveness was evident.

“How did you even manage to fuck up your card this bad?” he asked, not really demanding an answer but you shrugged anyway, “the computer won’t even read it.”

“I really have no idea.”

“This is gonna cost you, you know” his eyes still remained on the screen.

“I thought this shit was free?” you argued, “don’t we pay enough tuition to cover a little damaged keycard. I should’ve just broken my way in.”

Jungkook simply shook his head whilst dragging his chair back towards the printer to fetch your card.

“Consider that we’re very well acquainted classmates. Can you please deduct fifty-percent from what you were going to charge?”

“Well acquainted classmates?” His expression was hard to read but if you had to guess he seemed a bit hurt. . perhaps offended. But you could also just be misreading the situation. “And here I thought we were really good friends.”

“Aren’t they synonymous?”

“Not to me,” he held the new card towards you only to pull it back when you reached for it.

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes at him. “We’re friends. Great friend actually.”

“Hm, I don’t know. Sounds a bit disingenuous,” he sat back on his chair still holding your key hostage.

You scoffed. “And how would you possibly know that?”

“I can read people.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

He smirked, “I can always just show you how well I can read people.”

The intent behind his words was blurred behind thick lines and while you genuinely thought he wanted to plead his case, you couldn’t help but feel like there were hints of temptation behind his promise.

It actually took you a bit off guard—though, not really. Jungkook, like JK, (his alter ego?) was a concoction of sensuality and comfort. He is the personification of sweetness and while that was a fact he also had a player persona and he was driven by flirtatious mannerism.

The perfect combination of two.

“Is this how you spend most of your day? Harassing all of the girls who come by to get their keycards fixed.”

“Harrasing is such an ugly word,” he smiled. That stupid that was so compelling it actually drew you closer and closer to him. “Besides you’re the only one I like to fuck around with.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky you,” he repeated in a hushed tone, placing your card on the wooden surface while his hand remained on top of it, swallowing it whole under his palm. “If you really wanna test your luck I want to offer a proposition.”

“What would that proposal entail?” You removed his palm and finally grabbed the card, shoving it in your back pocket. You tried to hide it but the feeling of your fingers meeting his ignited sparks to crackle in the pit of your stomach and instantly you were blinded by bright lights, perhaps fireworks.

“One day, remember?” Jungkook’s eyes are mesmeric, stroked with intricate detail, dabbed with a tone of cafè noir, glossed over as a final coat offering a shiny layer.

“One day, yes,” you confirmed taking yourself back to your conversation on day one, “you offered to take me around and show the beauty of summer. Everything I’ve been missing apparently.”

Jungkook shook his head light-heartedly. “Right. I was just wondering if we could upgrade the singular term to plural.”

“What do you mean?”

“One day,” he repeated. “Can we change that to a couple of days instead?”

Days. . This implies that you’ll be spending days with Jungkook? This felt like a cultivation of your own personal heaven. Initially, when he proposed the idea to you back in class a seed had been planted in your head, slowly blooming a flower which swayed briskly the more you thought about Jungkook and being able to ever spend time alone with him.

“You know I didn’t actually think you meant any of it,” you lied, you believed him or at least you wanted to.

“Did I not just say I’m a man of honesty?”

“Apparently that’s your morale code, right?” you raised your eyebrow at his claims of integrity.

“Of course, it is.” He confirmed, “don’t sound so surprised please.”

“Not surprised. Just absorbing all of this newfound information.”

“Absorbing sounds a lot like mocking.”

“Mocking is such an ugly word,” you teased.

“Ha—ha, very funny,” he uttered jokingly accompanied by a rumbling fake laugh, “you know what’s not funny?”

“What?” you tilted your head slightly with a smug smile painted on your lips.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I do?” you hummed.

“You really strive to puncture my ego don’t you?” his gaze was set on you intently, his dark orbs read you slowly from head to toe. It made your palms balmy and you could feel a tremble taking route at your lower extremities.

Walking towards the door your shaky hand reached for the handle and opening it before turning back one last time. “The answer is yes.” You walked out although you heard a string of questions following right behind you, all of them left unanswered.

Yesterday was Friday, which meant today was Saturday. You knew that. You were competent enough to map out the days of the week accordingly. . Still, you weren’t quite sure why you heard an alarm blare through the walls of your dorm at six in the morning, startling you right out of the comfort of your slumber. Now, just thirty minutes past seven after rushing your morning routine thinking you’d ‘late for class’ you sat in bed showered with no real plans for the day ahead.

Your bowl of instant oatmeal was now empty and sitting on the nightstand beside your bed.

Navigating through the multitude of apps on your laptop was not as entertaining as you once perceived and although it did ease your boredom for a bit. Now you sat with the base panel sticking to your thighs staring at the home screen with nothing else to probe into.

“Come on,” Jungkook’s voice was barely above a whisper, once again he seems to have invaded your thoughts, “I know you wanna visit me.”

“I’m not sure what you mean. I don’t need to visit the student center today.”

“You know what I’m talking about, doll,” the words bounced in your head, “I know you remember.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, your attempt at trying to vanish him from your mind entirely. But even if you hated to admit it you couldn’t help but crave that feeling of him being here even if it was through the building blocks of your own imagination—It just felt so real. The heat of his presence felt so real and truly you just wanted to be consumed by it.

“Last time, I visited you. . You were a little busy.”

“That was last time,” he laid back sinking into the softness of your mattress and pillows, “I promise I’m all yours today.”

His commands were like the songs of sirens inching you closer to the very spot where he wanted you to be. Very easily you typed in the name of the website you’d grown very familiar with on the browser and quickly clicked on the last messages between the two of you — he was online and without indication of being in another session. That’s a good sign.

Yeah.

You can call.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard without indication on how to approach a conversation because for one you wanted to speak to him but it was also eight in the morning and Eargasm was a simple gateway to an orgasm. Not to mention, you’d be talking to JK not Jungkook and while the two were the same person they were also different.

BunnyBoy98 is typing…

Fancy seeing you

back here ;)

You quite literally could not move.

Have you missed

me?

Please. Don’t flatter

yourself.

It’s not flattery.

Last I recall, I

did make you cum.

My fingers did that.

Not you.

Who was the guiding

voice though?

Right.

Don’t you ever

forget it, doll.

Is there a reason

you messaged me?

I like that about

you, you know.

What?

Your bluntness.

It reminds me of

someone I know.

It’s hot.

There’s someone else? Someone who occupies his thoughts regularly it seems. Your heart felt heavier as the sharp blade pierced right through it leaving behind a vast hole and an incurable wound. You weren’t really sure why but it hurt so bad.

But you knew it should not. His job required sparking up conversations with dozens of girls on a daily basis and helping at least a dozen more find their culmination.

You cannot feel anything.

Thinking of other girls

in my presence? Shame

on you BunnyBoy.

Sorry, doll.

I promise right

now is all about you.

But we seem to have

started on the wrong

foot. How can we fix

that, BunnyBoy?

Use me as you

please.

As you read his request there was a shift in the atmosphere. Sort of like what you felt back in back that first day, where you were briefly dreaming inside of a dream or like what you imagined it would feel like if the Earth ever slammed down on its brakes coming to an abrupt halt. Actually, you were sitting in a massive slingshot just waiting to be catapulted into space — it was all too grand to minimize into coherent thoughts, too great to be reality.

But it was and you were pulled right out of your own illusion when the phone call icon began vibrating repeatedly signaling there was an incoming call.

While your head was still swimming among the cottony clouds your fingers somehow managed to hit the green button on the call from JK popping up on your screen.

“I was beginning to become hopeless,” his voice was so distinctive the minute he began talking your skin became covered in goosebumps.

“Why were you becoming hopeless?” To this day, you wondered how you were able to point him out even in a crowd just by his voice and he’s yet to identify yours. Perhaps, that is exactly the reason why you were so comfortable speaking to him here — and adopting the confident persona you lack in real life.

“When I call there’s usually an answer just by the first ring.”

“Things are different today, BunnyBoy,” you laid down and placed the laptop on the pillow right beside your head. “I make the requests today, remember?”

You were nervous and you weren’t quite sure just how much of this you could actually pull off but you were willing to try just to show him a good time.

“It’s your turn to tell me what you desire most,” you tried to maintain a whisper to your tone. Not only was that your go-to interpretation of seductiveness but it was also really fucking early in the morning and the last thing you needed was to be the dirty talk alarm for your dorm neighbors.

“I like to be the gateway to heaven.”

“Elaborate.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he snickered. Of course, he was referring to the art of making someone orgasm and he was right you were all too familiar with it. . Especially coming from him.

“What is it that you like so much about it?”

“It’s just an addicting feeling. I don’t really know how to put it into words,” you could tell he was talking through a wide grin, “it’s such a vulnerable moment for most people but I can’t help but drink the other person in entirely until I’m drunk off the antics and mannerism of their orgasm.”

“You get off by getting other people off?”

“I guess that’s an easier way to explain it.”

“So do I need to get off to help you get off right now?”

He huffed out a small breath, “Is that what you want, doll. To help me?”

You hummed, crumbling and failing to come up with any words at the mention of the nickname he’d attached to you.

“I can dig into my memories, you know. There’s so much about you I remember,” Again, you couldn’t see him but you could sense the smirk right through the microphone, “I know you kept your screen off but the sounds you made were enough to have me touching myself every second of everyday for days on end.”

The sensation of your walls clenching around nothing was taunting and the stream flowing right through the fabric of your panties just piled up on the mountain of frustration. You were miles away from the peak as you trotted up slowly but your thoughts remained on him.

“It’s like an audio file on loop. Your whimpers, and moans and the soft utters of my name. Fuck. The mixture became an ideal composition to the perfect ballad,” he confessed through a string of soft pants, “and then the way you pushed your fingers past your lips just to savor the taste of yourself. You really drove me to insanity.”

Your body felt as light as a feather and you could’ve sworn you were levitating right above your mattress you just couldn’t open your eyes to prove it. Instead, your tanktop was pushed below your breasts and your finger began its trail on your clit rubbing slow circles.

“JK, ima need you to shut the fuck up right now,” you were breathless with a hint of desperation. Ready to lose yourself in his voice, but you couldn’t, “shut up—“ you repeated, “this is not how it’s supposed to go today.”

“You say that,” he cooed, “but how come I can tell you’ve already begun to touch yourself?”

You pulled your hand from yourself, repelling away from the gravitational pull forcing you to reach back down between the warmth of your thighs. “You don’t know that and I was not touching myself.”

“You were and I’m 100-percent sure of it.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t worry, doll. You’ve done more than enough to get me where I need to be,” he hissed.

Realistically speaking this was the goal—Your goal for the day. But the reality of Jungkook’s whine sounding near the shell of your ear made you imagine things that weren’t even there for the third time in the past few weeks.

And there he was, beside you once again, with his cock springing out from above the hem of his shorts. It was longer; bigger than you’d imagined but he made use of his veiny hands moving up and down his length with a hastened pace. Quickly working his way right into an orgasm.

“Tell me how it feels, JK,” you rubbed your legs together in search of some ease — perhaps to ignore the pain or the desirous sting threading dangerously near to overwhelmingness but it wasn’t helping. You reach out for one of the decorative cushions sitting on your bed and quickly rid yourself of your panties hiking your skirt up past your belly button. You weren’t quite sure what came over you but looking over at ‘JK’ laying beside you began swaying your hips against the cotton cushion to match his exact pace.

“Fuck—“ you squealed.

“Oh, doll,” he let out a rasp groan, “t-that’s exactly what I needed. Keep going please. I’m so close.”

Minutes went by since the two of you began exchanging the alluring songs escaping each of your lips. It was an orchestra of pleasure and you kept at it until your whines combined with his grunts signaled the peak of your actions.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed out, “I’ve never done that before.”

“What?”

“This has never happened during one of my sessions.”

You smiled, “I’m glad I could be of assistance.”

“Visit me more often,” he said, “I mean it. Don’t wait another two weeks.”

“I’ll be back. Don’t worry Jung—JK,” you cleared your throat as an attempt to mask your almost massive fuck up. Hopefully he didn’t hear.

“I’ll be here.”

“Bye.”

The call was disconnected. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Not again.

Hours passed since your very interesting morning with Jungkook or should you say JK. It was closer to late night and you sat on a bench just outside the library with the luminous ray of the moon singling you out like a spotlight. You were tired and just like the moon sat without any stars surrounding it to keep it company you chose to be here, alone; secluded just for a little while. You needed it.

The night hadn’t begun this way. Not at all.

Your friend had texted you hours prior letting you know that a couple of people from research class had noticed a mini research project due for that Monday. And like any other group of panicked college students you all grabbed your shit and ran to the library to get the work done. Back then, you didn’t know that by ‘a few people from research class’ she also meant Jungkook.

While you could feel a kaleidoscope of butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach, there were also those pressing nerves. You know, the ones that make your hands tremble, your tongue feel heavy inside of your mouth and your palms balmy all together.

It was a variation of your own personal heaven and hell.

“May I know why you’re out here sitting all by yourself,” there weren’t winds strong enough to make you shiver the way his voice had just now.

Would he recognize your voice from this morning? Maybe he would. You pressed your hands against the wooden bench and took a deep breath.

It’s gonna be okay. You chanted. It’s going to be okay.

“Oh, I’m done with the project and I just needed a bit of fresh air,” you waved your hands around in an attempt to point at the library but you ended up pointing in the opposite direction, “it was just too hot in there.”

“Yeah. .” He slouched down and placed his head on the back rest, “I needed out too.”

“Did you get to finish?”

“I did,” he laughed, “I chose the effects of tattoos in the workplace.”

“Ha—“ you guffawed, shaking your head, “I’m sure you meant to make a statement.”

“Of course, doll.” There it was again. The effects it had on you were so grand meanwhile he just brushed right past it like absolutely nothing.

“How many tattoos do you have anyway?”

He rolled his sleeve up revealing his arm all the way up to his bicep, “I lost count after filing in the gaps for my sleeve but I’ll confidently say I’m well over thirty.”

“You must have all of the secrets to pain tolerance,” you stared at the art pieces adoring his honey skin.

“I would say I have it more under control now than I ever did before,” his head turned towards you and his dark eyes pierced your soul, “I almost cried during my first one though. Hurt so fucking bad I had to keep taking breaks.”

“Which one was it?”

He brought his arm up and showed you the flower sitting right on his right elbow.

“Can I?” That was your way of asking if it was okay for you to touch it without having to actually say it.

“Yeah.”

Your fingertips traced the small orange flower along with its surroundings which sprawled out into a larger floral design. Sparks of electric currents traveled from your fingers as they remained in contact with his skin. You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too but you were too afraid to ask.

“Did you get it shaded and colored in one go?”

“I couldn’t,” he shuddered, likely remembering that very day at the tattoo shop, “hurts just thinking about it.”

“But then you went and got a whole sleeve?”

“I guess I’m still fond of a bit of pain.”

“That’s psychotic.”

“Maybe,” he closed his eyes lightly, as a cheeky wide-toothed grin formed on his lips. That was the last of your interaction for a bit, the two of you just sat back in silence enjoying the serenity of the night. But of course, silence seemed to be a burden on Jungkook’s behalf because it didn’t really last too long. “Hey, you wanna go get ice cream? I hear the shop just off campus is open late.”

“Is this the kick start to your summer itinerary for me?”

“Could be. . if you want it to.”

“Sure. Let’s go.”

With a stunned expression your friend watched as Jungkook followed behind you, into the library to collect your belongings only to see you exit with him once more. Even though the windows you saw as her mouth remained agape as you disappeared into the night with the man that occupied so much of your heart and mind.

Seconds after you felt your phone vibrate continuously in your back pocket. Knowing it was probably just her with an abundance of prying questions you ignored it for now instead choosing to focus on the paved road ahead you. There are so many beautiful things to admire at this time of night — the way the bright green leaves sway with the cool breeze on the branches they’d call home for the duration of the summer, there was also the way the brightness of the street light illuminated the way to your destination. There were no lone frigid gusts whispering their way through the city, instead there was the buzzing chatter of on-goers bringing the streets back to life.

Jungkook and you occupied the sidewalk taking in every scene, every conversation, every person, every detail in your way and just as you neared the little ice cream shop you saw the way his doe eyes lit up at the vibrant shade of pink on the concrete walls.

“What should I get you?” You sat on one of the small tables lined up on the sidewalks just a few feet away from the shop.

“Chocolate please,” you pulled out your wallet just as he placed his hand on top of yours and shook his head.

“I invited you, didn't I?”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

Across from you at another small table you spotted a couple seemingly on their first day. You could tell because the girl as beautiful as she was, she wore the same gitters you did. The way her fingers trembled whenever the boy across from her inched his hand closer to hers.

She wore the exact same gitters you did but you were not here on a date. You were merely an acquaintance. Someone Jungkook knew in passing — likely to become someone he once knew once this charade of wanting to show you around for the summer was over.

“Are you always this deep in your own thoughts?” Jungkook sat across from you on the table and handed you the wafer cone with two chocolate scoops.

“Not always. .” you took a swift lick of your ice cream, “sometimes is probably a bit more accurate though.”

“May I ask why that is?”

“There are too many things dancing around in my head to figure out the steps to,” you began playing around with the edge of the napkins laid out on the table.

“Do any of those pressing thoughts have to do with your shit taste in ice cream flavors?” The dimples on his rosey cheeks were scaled to your meter of comfort and you couldn’t help but reciprocate his cheerful manner.

“Shit?” you sneered, “if we’re talking shit, strawberry is definitely first on the list.”

“Strawberry ice cream tastes like actual strawberries. Now please tell me what chocolate ice cream tastes ‘cause it is certainly not chocolate.”

“Bullshit. It does taste like chocolate.”

“Now, that's bullshit,” he continued, savoring his frozen dessert. “Will you ever tell me why you despise the summertime so much?”

“I do not despise it. I just—“ you sighed, “there are just experiences that simply do not wash away with the currents of the beach waves.”

“That’s awfully poetic.”

“I like to dramatize my life experiences.”

“I won’t make you elaborate. I will, however, smother you with my favorite activities until you have no choice but to fall in love with the season,” he strapped his backpack on and called over to you, “you ready?”

Whoever said spinning around on the roundabout after devouring an entire cone of ice cream was a good idea — was wrong. Of course, Jungkook’s ideas of the perfect summer night were made up of late night escapees, sweets and indigestion.

Jungkook, the culprit in this entire scheme plopped down on the multi-colored metal surface, clearly out of breath after having spun you so fast the heavens were now where the ground once used to be.

“You are the worst,” you laid down on the roundabout, eyes closed, swallowing down the nausea creeping up the back of your throat, “if I puke. . It is entirely on you.”

“Last I recall, you’re the one who wanted to be spun around on this thing.”

“Yes.” You continued taking deep breaths, “keyword spin not attempt to blast me off into the Milky Way.”

“You are such a drama queen.”

“There is nothing dramatic about the way my head is spinning right now,” you felt his shower brush against yours — he was now laying beside you. You opened your eyes slightly, turning your head in his direction, “are there now three of you?”

“Here,” he raised a hand to your face, “how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two?” you lied. He had all five fingers up.

“I know you see my whole hand is sitting right in front of your face right now,” he rolled his eyes.

“Actually, I don’t. That’s why I said two,” you stuck your tongue out at him before redirecting your attention back to the sky. “Do you think the moon ever gets lonely up there?”

Jungkook followed your line of vision to the sky above where the moon still sat all by itself, “I’ve never actually thought about it but I think everything and everyone can feel lonely once in a while.”

“I think I’m like the moon.”

His voice was soft, “in what way?”

“I guess—“ you battled with all the words crashing against each other in your brain, “in the sense that compared to Earth and most planets, the moon is so small right?”

“Yes.”

“I just feel like that. You know? Like a single grain of sand in a sandbox — feels like I’m an ant in a world of giants.”

“While it is true that the moon is fairly small in comparison to most of the planets in our solar system,” he began. “It is also a beacon of light. Without the moon our nights would be composed of utter darkness, the ocean tides would fall and the course of the life we know would be altered. Without the moon our lives would be shit.”

“Right.”

“Small yet consequential. You get that?”

“I do.”

You told no fib. His words were a warm blanket of solace wrapping itself tightly around your figure — serving as a shield, protecting you from anything that could perforate through your being; your soul.

Your parents had always been the main assailants in the attacks you had experienced throughout your life. After your brother walked away from home they pushed you aside, neglected you and left you to raise yourself. They were never there for birthdays or the holidays or summer vacations or even just regular days. You were a thirteen year old girl alone not being able to decipher why all of their grief from your brother’ abandonment came at the expense of the love they claimed to have had for you.

All your life you tried to work out if you’d done anything wrong but you finally see that it wasn’t you. Their neglect was based on their inability to be parents before anything else.

So yes, you were like the moon. Small yet consequential.

Jungkook’s pinky brushed up against yours slightly as he traced random shapes on your skin; sort of like asking permission before actually holding your hand. You looked at each other and before you knew it he wrapped his hand to yours. The warmth radiating from him was soothing and like nothing you’ve ever felt before. If you were sure of one thing — it’s you never wanted him to let go.

You just wanted to stay there with him in that moment forever.

“Jungkook, you better shake off all that sand out here or you are forbidden from entering my room,” you threatened, which only resulted in a mischievous grin from the man and the sand to go flying in your direction as he purposely tried to get it on you.

“Is that all better?”

You snorted, brushing off any of the remaining sand he did get in you, “you are so mean.”

A week of summer adventures had graced your life for the better — Jungkook had burdened himself with the mission to get you to enjoy the wonders of the scorching summer months and he was succeeding. You have enjoyed all of it thus far. Even having the ocean sand in places where the sun doesn’t shine.

The schedule doesn’t cease and while your platonic relationship with Jungkook blossomed though you couldn’t completely shut out the feelings that sent your heart into a frenzy whenever he was near. You like him so bad, but your friendship with him was like a gem, a rare gem and you wouldn’t trade that for anything on this entire planet.

“You know what’s weird?” Jungkook walked out from the bathroom just as you finished getting dressed. One towel hugged his waist, while the other he used to dry his hair.

“Jungkook?” you yelped, “clothes.”

“Oh, come on, you saw all of this at the beach,” he pointed at his sculpted physique. You did and you were almost sent into cardiac arrest then — what makes him think you’d be any better off within the congested walls of your room. He was feet away near the bathroom door but it felt like he was just beside you.

“Whatever. .” you turned around trying to keep yourself busy with something else, something that did not involve gawking at him. “This wall—“ he noticed you weren’t looking, “this wall right above your bed it looks so fucking familiar.”

“Jungkook, you’ve been in here about a dozen times in the past week,” your body stiffened as you felt a nauseating flutter in your stomach.

“You’re right . .” your back was still turned towards him but you could hear the floorboards creak as he inched closer, “but that right there only confirms it. There’s also your voice, that birthmark sitting right below your bottom lip and not to mention your nail polish you always keep the exact same shade.”

“Jungkook—“

“Not very clever I’d say,” his chin rested on the nook of your neck, “especially we ended on becoming this close.”

You wanted to say something — anything but you couldn’t actually speak.

“After our first time on Eargasm together,” he whispered into your ear, “do you know how much I thought of you? Your voice was the only thing that has played in my head since then. I wanted. . needed to meet you. The girl behind the black screen.”

“How long have you known?”

“Since the day you went to get your card fixed at the student center,” he continued, “your voice is soft, euphonic, harmonious, even when you’re cumming. It’s easy to distinguish.”

You shuddered as a result of his dulcet praise, “I’m so transparent but your tattoos ratted you out especially the snake sitting right below your wrist.”

“Problem is I wasn’t trying to hide, doll.”

“You didn’t care?��

“I didn’t care.”

Turning around the two of you remained face to face examining even the tiniest of details within one another. The pale red tint on the apple of his cheeks matched the tone of his lips almost perfectly.

His lips . . they were so inviting. You were sluggishly levitating towards him before his words slammed at your brakes.

“I think we should get going,” Jungkook said standing by the door holding his keys out to you. Was he kicking you out of your own dorm? “You wanna wait for me in the car? I’ll be right down.”

“Uh—“ you were a bit taken back with disappointment and just a bit of confusion. Was he really oblivious to it? “Yeah, that sounds fine. Don’t be long.”

A million thoughts scrambled your brain on the passenger seat of Jungkook’s car as your eyes drifted off toward the sun disappearing into the horizon. Love was never your forte but if you were sure of one thing it’s that what you felt although unspoken was evident; crystal clear more so. So you replayed what had happened in your room time and time again to decipher when it all had gone to shit. Perhaps, he was in fact still angry about you knowing it was him all along. . But you’d apologized when joined you in the car and he reassured you that it was fine and he wasn’t mad.

Looking back towards the driver seat, Jungkook remained with one hand on the wheel and his eyes glued to the road ahead. Not a word escaped his lips. Why is it so difficult to figure out what men are thinking?

Once you arrived at the drive-in movie theater, Jungkook parked and quickly dismissed himself to buy snacks while you tried to find the station provided to be able to hear the movie and finally you did.

“Okay,” Jungkook opened the car door, taking his previous seat back on the driver’s side, “I got popcorn, cherry slushies and a bunch of gummies. I just guessed on everything hoping it wasn’t a complete miss.”

“Of course I like these. Thank you, Jungkook.” You’d like anything he brought back for you simply because it came from him, “You know, I thought this style of movie watching ceased to exist after the 90s.”

“Yeah, I guess there was a decline in popularity after the 90s. Now, in some places it is once again sought out as a popular summer activity.”

“That is evident,” you looked around at the packed lot out in front of you. You guys scored the very last spot in the very last row, “Do you come here often?” Only you knew the real undertones of that question. ‘Do you bring other girls here often?’ This is what you actually meant.

“Not often,” he took a sip of his slushie

“Not often,” you repeated under your breath with a residue of bitterness left in your tastebuds. You weren’t sure if your drinking had grown pungent or if his words simply landed a punch in your gut triggering your acid reflux.

Patience, patience and endurance. You’d neared your limit for both while your heart continued its call for Jungkook but he simply could not hear. Was he really oblivious to it? You wondered once again. Was the wailing just white noise to him . . Non-existent? Could he not hear it as loudly as you could? Because to you it was all you could hear, the only thing you could pay mind to. To you the movie was long gone and all you wanted was for him to notice you. Not simply as friends, but to embrace what you knew he briefly felt for you back at the dorm. To actually see you.

“Are you okay?” his hand slowly moved to shove some more popcorn into his mouth. His words were slack, almost as if he’d been put to function in slow motion, “do you not like the movie?”

You couldn’t care less about the fucking movie. “The movie is fine.”

“Are you sure?” Was that concern in his voice? “I can get you something else from the snack bar,“ he reached for the handle, “let ne get you a water.“

“No,“ you held his wrist, “just stay please.”

“The snack bar is less than ten steps away. Are you sure you don’t want it?”

“I don’t want you to go.” You weren’t sure you were being clear so you tried your best to elaborate, “I know technically left my own room earlier but I didn’t want to and now I do not want you to go.”

You heaved feeling the pace of your quickening heart beating your chest. Then mumbled, “I left only because you asked me to but I wanted to stay with you.”

His eyebrows were furrowed as he tried to unscramble your inept confession. Soon his chocolate eyes dilated realizing the weight of your words.

“Like?” He asked, allowing his silence to fill in the gaps.

“Yes,” you confessed. “I wanted to stay in my room with you and spend the night together.”

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry. Truthfully, I wanted you to stay but I didn’t want to overstep after we talked about the Eargasm thing,” He turned his head away from his hands gripping the steering wheel towards you in the passenger seat.

“I like you. I’ve liked you before Eargasm Jungkook,” you could’ve sworn the sky began plummeting down on you while you just sat amongst the deafening silence, with your heart poured out before you — and still Jungkook said nothing, “Uh, you know what forget I ever. .” you paused taking another look in his direction but Jungkook simply hid behind wide eyes, “actually, no. Scratch that. I like you but I’ll be okay.”

“You are much braver than me, you know,” he spoke quietly, “a lot of my life I’ve lived hidden behind JK and though he is my other half he is not truly who I am. He is much more courageous than I’ll ever be but you were brave so I know I owe you a reciprocation of the same transparency. I’ve liked you from the moment I walked into class that very first day and I’ve only fallen for you harder with each passing day.”

“Jungkook.”

He hummed.

“Kiss me.”

In the matter of seconds the two of you climbed over to the back seat — the clashing of your body heat drew sweat beads to cascade down your temples. Your attention was far off that though, instead you were lulled by the softness of his silken lips pressed against yours. You could feel the thud of your combined heartbeat in the way your bodies were pressed so tightly against each other. His palm resided by your waist as he continued tugging at your top.

He pulled away, keeping his forehead pressed against yours, “are you sure you want to do this here?”

You looked around feeling locked in by the tint of Jungkook’s car windows, “I’m sure.”

Before your back could meet his leather seat, Jungkook began pulling your panties down and pushing your denim skirt up past your belly button. Jungkook was always gentle whether it was with his words or his touch, that was the truth, and today was no different.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Jungkook’s usual dove eyes were now burning with hunger — desire. His hands rested on your knees and he began spreading your legs farther and farther away from each other causing your underwear to become soaked. You hadn’t really noticed how spacious the back of his car was until now, until he kneeled in front of you. His fingers traced the outline of your thighs as he reached under your skirt quickly pulling your panties down to your ankles.

You closed your eyes, melting back into the seat. The feeling came in waves you quickly realized. First, there was the anticipation as your body urged him to touch your body but he only allowed his digits to cloud over your cunt. Then, there was the taunting of his teasing touch where he would drag the pads of his fingers along your folds — a touch so agonizing you found yourself driving your hips against him for some relief.

“Come on, doll,” Jungkook cooed as two of his fingers sat at your entrance with no intention of moving, “I thought you were more patient than this.”

“I’ll be good,” you heaved, “I promise.”

“Promise?” He pushed past the muscle of your entrance quickly invading your insides and in that moment you could’ve sworn you were no longer in his car — instead you lived amongst the celestial body of lumineers lighting the night sky. Words poured out of you in the form of profanities featured by the moans you couldn’t seem to suppress the quicker he pumped in and out of you.

That was it. That feeling. You held on as if your life depended on it. There was nothing, nothing else that could claim your attention the way Jungkook was at that very moment.

“Oh, right there,” your nails dug into his shoulder blades as he reached the very spot in your insides which blurred your vision and caused your legs to shake just a bit, “j-just keep going right there.”

His lips quickly landed on yours for a kiss so torrid you could taste the remnants of his cherry chapstick on your tongue. Enveloped by the overstimulation of the kiss and his fingers inside of you, the remaining piece of string which held you together snapped and behind your eyelids all you saw were spots of flashing white lights.

“Jungkook. .” You waited just a moment to catch your breath before patting the seat right beside you, “come sit with me. Unwind.”

“It’s hard to think of anything else when you’re sitting right beside me looking like that,” he hummed, “ all fucked out when I’ve only fingered you.”

“Just. . trust me,” As soon as he sat you placed your hand on his chest climbing onto his lap placing your legs on either side of his, “will you do that?”

“I trust you.”

Even the mess Jungkook had already created in between your thighs you felt that concupiscent armor burning deep inside of you — it was like a wildfire you couldn’t extinguish. Jungkook’s hands landed on your waist, his grip was sweaty against your skin, he began you forward and backward on his lap. And you began reciprocating that movement at a rhythm equivalent to his.

The temperature continued to rise within the enclosure of his car and a mixture of his rough grunts and your pleased hums began to fill the space. His clothed cock and your bare clit continued to meet in the filthiest of ways yet you couldn't resist but cry out for more. You craved more.

“I-I need you, Jungkook,” you whimpered.

If you thought you’d known pleasure before there was nothing compared to the way Jungkook’s massive cock felt inside your walls. It’s as if his dick was personally crafted to slip into you. God, he wasn’t moving a single muscle — you weren’t either and still you couldn’t help the countless moans dripping right off your lips.

“Are you okay?” he asked, “can I move?”

“Please,” you cried out.

In being the embodiment of sin, Jungkook embraced his mercilessness as a result of your yelp when his cock rammed into you with a drawn out yet deep thrust. As he slipped in and out if you saw the way he almost pulled out entirely only to guide you back down harshly on his length. Over and over and over. Your head lulled back and you were sure your rolled eyes could recite the contents of the inside of your skull.

“D-don’t stop,” you choked out, placing a hand on the hood for support as Jungkook continued to have you at his mercy, “I’m so close.”

You couldn’t really see in the midst of the pleasure coursing through you but you could feel the way his warm lips landed kisses around your breasts while his hands caressed your sides.

“P-please don’t stop,” the car began moving along with his pace and you were sure the others around you were now aware of the events unfolding right beside them. But you didn’t fucking care. Jungkook’s hand reached down in between your thighs near the exact point where his length disappeared inside of you, and he began stimulating your clit — drawing out small circles. You were shaking with pleasure spilling a string of curses. This continued until you finally reached your peak through screams of his name and your juices coating his cock while he poured into you.

“Fuck,” you cried out sweetly as he pulled out, “that was amazing.”

“It was better than amazing.”

You laid your back against him as he wrapped you up in his warm embrace. The two of you were warm and sweaty, “so what’s on the itinerary for tomorrow?” You asked.

“We’ll go anywhere you wanna go. Together.”

“Together,” you smiled.

a/n: this is mildly edited sooo . . . thread lightly for any mistakes lol. Also, the smut is pretty average but my brain wasn’t working so sorry about that in advance <3

🔖: @shaybtsfoever @bjoriis @sharkipoonis @hoseokteardrop @ravensidea @skzthinker @cherryluvhobi

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#bts #bts smut #bts reactions #bts imagines #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #brief mention of tae namjoon and mr. kim aka kim seokjin #bts jungkook smut

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