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gurugirl · 10 months ago

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Next Door Neighbors

Summary: You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.

A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn't get it out earlier but it's here now! Enjoy this little 🎈 Harry Styles Happy Birthday Treat 🎈xoxo

Word Count: 7.8k

Warning: 18+ only, smut

It was the perfect house with the perfect backyard in the perfect neighborhood. You’d hit the jackpot. Your first big girl purchase. A house with a lovely garden, two bedrooms, a lovely little kitchen with the perfect rays of light that shone in through the big windows all morning. And the neighborhood was nice and quiet where you could enjoy your weekends in peace reading to your heart’s content.

It was a huge upgrade from the apartment life you endured for years while you saved up for just this thing. And you’d finally found it. Things seemed to be coming together for you in life finally.

On Friday after you got off work, Zoya called, asking if you wanted to go out with the girls but you politely declined, “I’m just gonna stay in I think. I hope you don’t mind. Maybe next weekend, Zo.”

You had a bottle of wine tucked under your arm as you held your cell phone to your ear on your way to the checkout lane at the little neighborhood market a few blocks from your house. Your new house. The one with your name on the mortgage.

Your plan was to drink a little wine in your cute new backyard and read a book, just taking in the peace of your new place.

You turned on the twinkle lights over your back porch (your dad had helped you put them up into the trees) and sat down in your outdoor lounge chair with a glass of wine and the book you’d been looking forward to reading. The sun had just gone down and you could hear crickets. A perfect Friday night, in your opinion.

That is until you were twenty pages into your book and suddenly the loud racket of what sounded like obnoxiously loud live music playing from next door had you closing your book and standing up to investigate.

The closer you got the more you could hear the unmistakable sound of a live band playing, the pop of a snare drum, the trill of a guitar... You looked over the wood fence into the driveway of your neighbor’s home and couldn’t see much but you saw lights on inside of the garage and the loud ruckus of a homemade instrumental band.

You didn’t want to be one of those neighbors. One of those awful people who complained about everything their neighbors did. But this was ridiculous. It seemed they had no regard for any of the people that lived around them.

Walking back to what was supposed to be your little oasis you sat down and grumped to yourself about how rude some people could be. You’d give them one hour until you went over there and told them in person to lower the noise.

You’d only been living in your little house for a few days and this was your first Friday night. You had really been looking forward to a peaceful night at home. Not even your second glass of wine could calm you down.

You didn’t know why you were so mad about it. In your apartment, you were bombarded with noise from all the neighbors who shared a wall with you and the loud heard of elephants that lived above you.

But this? It was meant to be your sanctuary. Your place of solitude.

But you’d had it. When an hour had passed and you paced around your backyard getting up the nerve to walk over there you huffed and psyched yourself up as you made your way into the front yard of your neighbor’s house and could see three men inside the wide open garage. A drummer pounding away, and two men standing – one with a guitar and another with a bass.

You stepped into the driveway and clutched your cardigan closer to your chest as you appeared at the threshold of the garage and the music abruptly stopped when the tall one with dark curls laid his eyes on you.

“Hi. You’re the new neighbor,” he raised his hand from the neck of the guitar he had slung over his shoulder and smiled.

You instantly no longer were raging with anger when you heard his voice and realized this was the man you’d seen briefly the morning before as he got into his car. You imagined he was attractive but not this attractive. Tattoos along one arm, thick curls, plush pink lips, dimples…

“Uh… yeah. I just moved in next door a few days ago.” You looked behind yourself and back toward the men before continuing, “I was hoping you guys could–“

Your voice was cut off by the clash of a symbol then the hit of a snare before the drummer tapped his sticks together, “We’re in the middle of something here in case you didn’t see.”

“Hey… chill. Don’t be rude man,” the curly-headed man with the guitar shot a look at the drummer before looking back at you, “What were you saying? Sorry.”

You shifted on your feet, “I was wondering if you guys could keep it down. It’s so loud and it’s all I can hear while I’m trying to read.”

The guy with the bass guitar spoke, “Oh come on, lady. We hardly ever get to do this.”

Your neighbor began removing his guitar, lifting the strap over his head as he looked at the other two, “Let’s call it a night guys. That’s enough.”

The other two began to grumble as they packed away their things and your neighbor stepped out of the garage in front of you with his hand held out to you, “I’m Harry.”

You smiled and placed your palm against his, “Y/n.”

The drummer came up beside Harry, “Today’s his birthday you know. The only thing he wanted today was to jam out for a bit.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at Harry, “Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry… you–“

“Don’t worry about it. We had a good hour. I’m beat anyway. Long week at work.”

The bassist gave Harry a side hug, “I’m gonna head home. See you later, okay? Happy birthday, dude.”

“Oh. I should leave. I’m really sorry again,” you waved as you began to back away.

But Harry stepped in toward you, “Stick around for a minute okay?”

The drummer followed suit, bidding Harry a happy birthday and then getting into his car to drive away as you stood awkwardly at the edge of the garage until it was just you and Harry.

“I’m sorry. I feel really bad that they left. And it’s your birthday too? I’ll… do you want a bottle of wine or something? Let me grab you a bottle as a gift and an apology…”

Harry grinned at you and shook his head, “Mind if I come with you? I’d love to see the inside of the house. Never got the chance to see it before. That can be your birthday gift to me.”

You noted the smirk on his face, his confident posture, and then you realized he had crystalline green eyes. Something in the way he was looking at you gave you those ridiculous butterflies in your tummy.

“Yeah. Of course, Harry.” You turned and he followed behind you as you led him into your backyard, closing the gate behind yourself.

“This is the backyard. I’m gonna put in some flowers over there,” you pointed, “And maybe do something with the porch at some point.”

Harry looked around the backyard briefly before he put his gaze back on you as you opened up your door to let him inside. You were sure you were insane to be letting your neighbor, whom you did not know, into our house with you alone at night, but you only live once, isn’t that what they say?

“Kitchen,” you gestured your hand and then moved through into the living room where Harry trailed behind you and looked around.

“It’s nice. I like how big the windows are. Always was jealous of how big they are compared to mine.”

You looked up at him and smiled, “It’s one of the reasons I bought the place. The window in the kitchen overlooking the backyard kind of sealed the deal for me. Lots of great light comes in for most of the day.”

“I bet it does,” he kept his eyes on you and your tummy was still fluttering about.

“Over here is the bedroom,” you flipped on the switch, “It’s got its own full bathroom. Tiny but I like it.” You turned to move down the hall and flipped on the switch to the hallway bathroom, “Another bathroom, here,” and then moved to the final door, pushing it open to an empty room, “And at some point, I’ll furnish this. It’ll be like an office, guest room sort of thing.”

You turned off the light and looked back at Harry who was standing right behind you.

“Thank you, for showing me around.”

You felt your face warm up as you looked at him. You liked how he said your name. Liked how his lips moved around his words when he spoke.

“Of course. Um… do you want any wine? I was a glass and a half into a bottle if you want to finish it with me?”

That was an easy yes from Harry. You brought your glass in from outside and pulled out a clean one for your neighbor before pouring a bit of the burgundy liquid inside for him.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” you held your glass out to him and he tapped the edge of his glass to yours, “Sorry that I ruined it, though. I kind of feel awful.”

Harry shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Like I said, it was a long week at work and we had a good hour anyway. Plus this is nice. Getting to know my neighbor,” he took a sip of his wine.

“How old are you today?” You took a sip of your wine as you watched him.

“30,” he sighed, “Grown adult officially.” He smiled.

You laughed at his remark and nodded, “Yes, 30 marks the official entry into adulthood. That’s my belief as well.”

You really liked Harry. He was easy to talk to and you decided he made you feel very comfortable.

“So, you’re a musician?” You raised your brows.

He shook his head and chuckled, “Well, I like to sing and play instruments. I’m not really great or anything. Just a hobby. Used to be in a band in college but then I realized I had to get a real job and figure out how to pay my bills and get along in life.”

You leaned your bottom into your kitchen counter and smiled at him, “Oh yeah. I know all about that. Would be nice if we could make good money just doing our hobbies so we didn’t have to get real jobs,” you laughed, “What do you do for work?”

“I’m an electrical contractor. Have a small business with three employees. It’s hard work but it pays well. Most of the time.”

You smiled. He continued to get more attractive the more he talked and the more you learned. It didn’t hurt that you could tell he was in incredibly great shape as well. He was tall, his shoulders were broad and his shirt stretched tightly over the lats at his back and hung loosely where his waist was, indicating a nice healthy build and upper body strength. His arms were lean muscle and even his thighs filled out the tops of his jeans so you understood it wasn’t just his upper body that was well-muscled.

You heard Harry chuckle as you darted your eyes back up to his. You’d been caught checking him out. You hadn’t meant to let your eyes scrape down his frame but… well. Here you were.

“And what do you do, Y/n?”

Harry kept his sight on you as he sipped from his glass. His sultry gaze was doing things to your hormones and making your heart pump a little harder behind your ribcage.

“I’m the general manager at SpendCo,” you laughed and shrugged, “Not a fancy job but I like it. Good benefits. Was able to save up for this place,” you gestured your hand around the kitchen.

“My job’s not fancy either,” Harry laughed, “But yeah. It’s steady work. A good paycheck.”

You nodded. You could relate in some ways. You’d gone to school for business but wound up working your way up from the bottom at SpendCo. When you started you were making just over minimum wage as a cashier, but now you worked in the office, Monday through Friday (no more weekends for you) and had shift managers and employees working under you. It felt good to be the boss.

“Wanna sit in the living room? Couch is brand new. In fact, I’ve hardly even had the chance to sit in it myself.”

“Yeah. Let’s break that couch in, Y/n,” Harry grinned as he nudged you with his shoulder.

Oh?

You laughed at his comment but decided to not take it the way you imagined he meant. Of course, he obviously meant just sitting on it and breaking it in that way. Certainly, there were no innuendos behind his words.

You didn’t have a proper coffee table yet so you pulled an empty bin with a lid to the front of the couch, “We’ll use this to put our glasses on. Still not done decorating or buying things I need, as you can tell.”

Harry sat his glass down on the plastic lid of the bin and pointed at your stereo setup next to the TV, “Can I put on some music?”

“Yeah, sure,” you smiled as you took another sip of your wine and watched your handsome neighbor get up and turn on your stereo and speakers. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and searched for the Bluetooth to connect and a song began to play over your speakers.

“Like Chris Isaak?” Harry asked as he sat down on the couch, right next to you, his knee knocking into yours.

“Yeah… I think. I’ve heard this song before anyway,” you smiled as you looked down at your thighs.

Harry leaned his back into the cushion and you felt him shifting next to you, his arm propped up on the back of the seat behind you.

“So where did you live before you moved in here?”

You turned your head to look at him before placing your eyes safely on the plastic bin, “In an apartment over in Roger’s Park. Nice little neighborhood. But I hated living in an apartment. Lugging groceries up three flights of stairs every time I went shopping. I mean I got used to it but still…” you laughed.

“Oh yeah. I know what you mean. I used to live in an apartment too. Actually also in Roger’s Park… but that was like five years ago.”

You peeked at him with your brows raised, “Yeah? You lived in Roger’s Park too? What area?”

“Off Grand near the big bus terminal.”

“Wait. For real? At Sheraton Oaks?”

Harry furrowed his brows and squinted, “Yes. Shit. Is that where you lived?”

“It is. 3rd floor. Apartment 10.”

Harry turned his body toward you, his thigh flush against yours, “No fucking way, Y/n. I lived in apartment 10,” he pointed his thumb at himself with a wide surprised grin on his face.

You shook your head and looked at him in disbelief, “That’s wild. How funny that two people who used to live in the same apartment at different times became next-door neighbors. What are the chances?”

Harry laughed, “Seems quite unlikely in such a big city.”

You and Harry sat facing one another in amazement as a new song came on.

“You okay?” Harry’s pupils ran over your features and you saw him looking at your lips as he poked his tongue out to wet his own.

“Yeah. Why?”

Harry softly smiled as he lifted his hand to your face and you felt the pad of his thumb press into your cheek, “You’re biting the inside of your cheeks. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t nervous or something.”

You puffed out a laugh and shook your head, “No. I’m not nervous. Sometimes I chew on the inside of my cheeks. Bad habit.”

Harry nodded shallowly with his eyes on you but he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for his glass and took a sip of wine.

“So… um…” you glanced at him and shot your eyes to his hand that held the stem of the glass. His hands were nice and big and you noticed he had his nails painted, alternating blue and yellow.

“So, um… What? What were you gonna say?”

You gulped and forced yourself to look into his eyes. He was so handsome and you were beginning to get hot all over. He was too close (not that that was a bad thing), his thigh was solid against yours, and his eyes were drawing something out of you. He was alluring.

“I don’t…” you shook your head, “Forgot what I was gonna say.”

Harry pulled his lips into his mouth, a muted grin on his face as you watched dimples carve into his cheeks. Like he knew what you were thinking.

“I like this sweater,” he gestured toward your cardigan and you looked down at it. It was knitted with a cat playing with a ball of yarn on the left side.

“My aunt bought it for me for Christmas last year,” you smiled and as you brought your eyes up you noticed he was wearing a necklace but you couldn’t see the whole thing as it was tucked under his t-shirt.

He pulled at a button on your cardigan and cocked his head as he looked at you, “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? Do you want me to leave?”

Your eyes widened, “Oh no. This is nice. I… I’m okay. Honestly.”

“Okay. You just seem a little frazzled. Want to make sure I’m not doing anything that’s making you uncomfortable.”

You shook your head, “No. You’re great. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable.” You bit your bottom lip into your mouth and tried to give off an air of calm and confidence like Harry was but he was something else. He was so incredibly attractive and the eye contact was making you slowly melt. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss him.

He grinned, one side of his mouth pulling upward, “I see.”

You watched as he took a deep breath and placed his wine glass back down before looking back into your eyes, “So, um… can I ask you a personal question?”

You nodded, “Yeah. Sure.”

“Do you have a boyfriend or…?”

Your brows raised upward, “Oh. Uh, no. No boyfriend,” you put your hands into your lap and fiddled with your fingers, “And, uh… you? Significant other?”

A breathy laugh fell from his chest as he shook his head, “Nope.” He popped the p as he responded.

You nodded and looked down at the hand that he’d placed over his thigh. His pinky was pressed into your leg. You were sure he was giving you some kind of signal. All the signs were there. His body language, eye contact, asking you about a boyfriend, and the nearness of him… He was so close you could smell the soap he used.

“Mmm…” you racked your brain to think of anything to say, “How long have you lived here?”

He licked his lips again, “Five years. Moved out of Sheraton Oaks and then bought the house next door.”

You smiled, “So that means I moved in right after you moved out.”

Harry slowly moved his hand further toward your leg and you felt his pinky and ring finger press into your leggings before subtly bending his pinky finger out to rub the fabric under his digit, “Sounds like we have a lot in common.”

“Yeah. Guess so,” you gave him a weak smile and looked down at his hand.

“Am I overstepping?”

You shook your head and looked up at him.

“No? What about if I kissed you? Is that too much?”

Your breath caught in your lungs as you kept your eyes pinned to his and shook your head again.

“No, it’s not too much? Or no you don’t want me to kiss you?”

You swallowed and your heart bounced around in your chest so wildly you could almost hear it, “No, it’s not too much.”

The smile on Harry’s face was soft as he looked from your eyes to your mouth, “It’s okay then? You don’t mind the birthday boy stealing a kiss from his cute neighbor?”

That pulled a laugh from you just as he hoped it would, “I’d like that I think.”

Harry slid his free hand up to the side of your neck, his thumb at the base of your jaw close to your ear, “Last chance to say no.”

You laughed again and placed your palm over the top of his hand that had fully moved over your thigh, “Kiss me.”

The slow movement of his face toward yours, the nudge of his nose to your skin, hot puffs of breath spreading over your cheek, soft lips brushing against the edge of your mouth, before he finally pressed his smooth pink lips against yours was alchemic. Something about him, about the way he handled himself and spoke to you and devoured you with his eyes… But with his mouth against yours, his thumb softly rubbing at your jaw, and his hand moving to fit his fingers between yours as he kept it pressed over your thigh you felt electrified.

And he tasted like mint and smelled like soap and his lips were smooth and moist against yours. Your Friday night had already turned out far better than you imagined it would.

Yeah. Making out on your new couch in your new house with your new neighbor was way better.

You slid the palm of your free hand up his shoulder and to the nape of his neck as his own grip on the side of your neck and jaw tightened the slightest.

But your mind was on his mouth. The heat coming from his touch. The way his tongue slid through your lips to beckon them open…

Harry pulled at your hand and urged you toward his lap. Parting your legs you sat down over the spread of his thighs, settling yourself as close to him as possible.

He slid his hands up your thighs and you felt ravenous. It was as if sitting in his lap made it so much more real. He was moving things along and you were keeping pace.

You pressed your tongue against his and softly rocked your hips down. As your pelvis tilted against Harry, he moaned into your mouth and it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard.

“Fuck. You still good?” He parted from the kiss, keeping his nose bumped against yours.

You breathed out a yes as you nodded and when you lifted your face your lips brushed against his and it started all over again. Lips smothered over lips and tongues wetly dragging against tongues.

Harry’s hands inched up to your hips and you pressed your fingers into the back of his neck, feeling his pulse, steady and strong under your skin.

He lapped over your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and then dropped his cushiony lips down to your jaw, peppering damp kisses under the space of your chin and over your neck.

You loved having your neck kissed. Not just loved it… you craved it. The feel of a man’s breath and mouth and tongue and nose against your pulse point and the delicate skin that wrapped over blood pumping through your arteries had your skin tingling.

Another rock of your hips down and you felt the obvious swell of something growing under his jeans. He hissed and you backed away from his mouth, not knowing if his sharp inhale was from pain or if he liked the slide of the fabric over your crotch pressing against him.

When you looked at his eyes he was a different man. His pupils had widened and his plush pink lips were wet and parted, nostrils taking in air heavily as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.

“Did I hurt you?” You brought one of your hands toward his jaw feeling the light scruff along the bone under your knuckles.

He shook his head, “No. Not at all. But I do need to reposition.”

You looked down between your bodies and moved back on his thighs to give him space but before your brain could connect to your motions you were reaching down for his button to unpluck from the thick jean fabric. He gently lifted his hips as you unzipped his pants and then you looked at him as you pushed the bottom hem of his shirt upward over the band of his underwear.

“You wanna help?” He spoke breathily as you nodded and pulled the elastic away from his skin with one hand and used the other to reach under the fabric. It was sparse hair and skin and then and then denser hair and warmth until you felt him tucked awkwardly to the side against his pelvis.

The small coo that fell from your mouth was involuntary as you wrapped your hand around him. Hot and thick in your hand. He inhaled sharply again when he felt your palm on his cock as you helped guide him upright.

Your breath was unsteady and shallow as you kept your eyes on Harry’s, “God, Harry.”

“What?” His teasing smirk gave away that he knew what. He knew his cock was big and watching your reaction to that was pleasing.

You gulped and peeked down at it, your hand still holding the fabric away from his hips. A swollen, smooth ruddy colored tip that matched the pink of his lips. The length of which pushed out from the top of the band and sat perfectly in between two fern tattoos at his hips along the bare part of his skin.

“It’s…” you looked back up at him, “It’s nice.”

Harry breathed out a laugh, “Nice? Why thank you.” He grinned.

But then you felt his fingers slide under your t-shirt, pushing the fabric up slowly until his skin was pressed into your sides. It felt like he was urging you to remove your shirt so you did. Pulling your cardigan off first you let it fall to the floor at Harry’s feet before you peeled your t-shirt off.

Harry was surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra. It had been easy enough to hide under the knitted sweater you figured, so you never put a bra on when you went to confront him earlier. And of course, you weren’t wearing one. It was meant to be a quiet Friday night in. There had been no need.

He pushed his hands up your sides until his fingers were wrapped around your ribs with his thumbs pressing into the soft plump underside of your tits.

You watched him take you in. Your nipples were straining and goosebumps littered your flesh as he ghosted his thumbs along the sensitive tissue.

It felt like so much. You had never done anything remotely sexual with someone you didn’t know. But Harry was hot and you were turned on. So much so that you could feel the dampness in your panties.

You reached back to his chest, pulling at his shirt. You wanted to see more. Wanted to know what he looked like underneath it all. You knew he was fit. And you were positive there were more tattoos hidden away under the material of his shirt.

With his eyes on yours, he moved his hands away from your breasts and pulled his shirt off, taking the back and bringing it over his head at the front. You got a glimpse of the necklace he wore. A white gold cross that slapped against his chest when it caught on the fabric of his shirt as he removed it.

You had been right. His body was defined and strong. Bulky muscular pecs and toned abs. Inked skin from his clavicle to the butterfly under his pectorals and down to the ferns, where his cock poked out of the top of his underwear.

Pressing your palms over his pecs you smoothed your hands down over his nipples and to the butterfly tattoo underneath.

Harry put his hands on your hips again while you admired his torso and you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your dark-colored tights. Another signal. A question seeking approval for more.

Drawing your eyes up to his you put your hands over his fingers and pushed the material down with him.

Of course, sitting in his lap hindered too much movement but he understood your hint as he pushed you up by your hips and you found yourself being moved off of his lap to your back on the couch.

“Still good, Y/n?” He looked at you with those dark pupils, an air of respectful authority. He made your skin boil.

You nodded, “I’m good.”

Harry began to pull at the stretchy fabric, bringing it down your hips and over your thighs til your knees were free and then he lifted your legs so he could get the leggings off your feet.

When your pants were on the floor, he still had your legs held upward, one hand at the back of your ankles and you peered down at him indulging in the sight of your skin at the back of your thighs and down to your bottom covered in your panties.

You saw a grin on his face as he brought your legs down before he stood up and pulled his jeans off his legs.

His body was so strong and masculine. He could easily dominate you, the thought briefly crossed your mind as you watched the muscles in his arms flex, his abs clench, and the sinew on his powerful-looking thighs bulge as he steadied himself one leg at a time until his jeans were off and he was only clad in his underwear with dark inky designs on his skin and even on his thigh.

He kneed himself down onto the couch, hovering over you as you naturally spread your legs to allow him space between your thighs.

And the feel of his hard shaft pressing over your mound before his lips dropped down to yours once again had you dazed. It almost didn’t feel real.

“So fucking hot, Y/n…” he whispered against your lips, “Made me so hard.”

You gasped when he rocked himself down over you, fabric rubbing against fabric until your arousal had seeped through your panties and began wetting his underwear.

He moaned and parted from this kiss, “You’re all wet.” He slid himself upward and then back with a grin. “You like that?”

You nodded with a moan.

“Yeah? What else do you want, Y/n? Hm? Want to get rid of these panties?”

You moved your shaky hands down your hips and pushed at the fabric to bring them down. All you wanted was him. Your hormones were screaming at you and all you could think about was his big cock and how it would feel sliding inside of you.

Harry laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed and moved back to help you remove your panties, “Okay. We can get these off. Mind if I lose my underwear too?”

You sat up and reached for the band of his briefs as he began to push them down until he was completely bare before you.

His cock hung heavy outward, pointing toward you, like it was beckoning to be touched so you did, reaching for him and taking your palm from his tip to his base until your hand hit the dark thatch of hair and then pulled back up to his smooth head.

“I want it. Want to feel it, Harry.” You looked at him as you pumped him again.

He groaned as he watched your small hand move along his length.

“Do you have a condom?”

You swallowed and paused your motions. You definitely did not have a condom. Which was quite unfortunate because that could only mean sex was not going to happen unless he had one and was willing to go to his house to get it.

Shaking your head no you frowned.

Harry licked his lips and trailed his eyes over your tits and down your tummy, “S’okay. Plenty of other ways to have fun.”

You whined as you looked down at your hand. You had really wanted to feel that big thing wrecking your insides.

Harry took your chin and tilted your face to look up at him, “What’s wrong?”

You inhaled and let go of his pretty dick, “I wanted to feel you so bad.”

He pressed his mouth against yours, soft reassuring kisses had your heart strumming in your chest.

“Well I would hate to disappoint you,” he grinned, “Want to go to mine? I’ve got condoms. We’ll just have to put some clothes back on.”

You nodded and pushed yourself up, quickly pulling your cardigan on and slipping your leggings back up your legs.

Harry liked how desperate you seemed. That was quite the ego boost. He put his shirt back on and pulled his jeans up but left the zipper down as he clutched the fabric to keep it up.

“Guess that’s good enough for breaking your couch in, yeah?”

You laughed and nodded, “Was a good first use for it I think.”

Harry laughed as he took your hand and you two made your way out your front door to his, hurrying over grass under bare feet and small chuckles until you were in the safety and privacy of his living room. He kept your hand in his until he got to his bedroom where he pulled his shirt off and you followed suit, ridding yourself of the annoying clothing you’d had to put back on.

But you knew it was going to be worth it.

Harry dug into his bedside table for a condom and laid it on top of the wood before looking back at you, “You still want this?”

You nodded and climbed onto his bed. The tunnel vision you had was keeping your mind from wandering too far off course as you watched Harry stroke his cock, long pulls up and down to his base as he crawled after you onto his bed.

You easily opened up your legs for him to fit his hips between and felt his warm cock slipping through your folds, rubbing against your clit.

“So slippery, Y/n.” You knew you were as he drove himself over your labia, smoothing his cock against your arousal back and forth.

A shaky moan fell from your throat and Harry grinned as he smeared his lips against your mouth.

He worked himself up and down, wetting the outside of his cock and his tip as he inched through your pussylips smoothly.

You loved his mouth. Loved how he kissed you. It was raw and felt like he gave a damn. Felt like he was enjoying your mouth just as much as you enjoyed his.

Finally, he pushed himself back and reached for his condom looking at you, “Do want anything else first? Or do just want my cock?”

You looked down at his hard dick with your arousal spread all over him and it was all you wanted.

“I want your cock,” your words were breathy as you looked up into his eyes.

“Yeah? A greedy little thing aren’t you?” Harry began to pull the condom over his shaft, pinching the tip as he dragged the rubber down as far as it would reach before settling himself back against your hips, pushing your thighs back slightly, “So desperate for it,” he nudged his cock down against your pussy and then slid it up to your clit teasingly, “Couldn’t wait to have me inside you. Insisted on it even,” he grinned as he tormented you with his wide girth slipping back and forth against your cunt.

You tilted your hips up and groaned, trying to get him to push inside but he continued his taunting movements, “Now, now… so impatient. I’ll give you what you want soon enough sweetheart. But today’s my birthday so I get to control the pace. Don’t want you getting all bossy with me.”

You moaned and slid your hands over his shoulders as you rolled your hips upward again, kissing his slit with your entrance but this time he placed a hand over your thigh and held you in place, “Is it that bad, Y/n?”

You nodded, “Please, Harry.”

“Mmm… love a well-mannered lady. You gonna be good for me?”

You sighed and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so horny, so out of your mind desperate, “I’m gonna be good. Please.”

“Yeah? Cause once I slide inside of you there’s no turning back.”

You gripped his shoulders tight and groaned, “Please.”

The feel of his warm, heavy cock smeared against your clit was almost too much. In fact, you could probably come from that alone if given enough time.

“So sweet for me, Y/n,” Harry took the thigh he’d been holding down and brought your leg over his low back, smoothing his hand over your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance.

The moment you felt him pressing his bulbous head through your slick muscle you dropped your mouth open and moaned but then his mouth caught yours and the noises you were making became muffled as he moved his lips against your mouth.

You knew he was going to split you in half. The slow glide of his cock inside your warm walls was intense. Inch by inch he pushed in as his lips were wrapped around yours.

Holding onto his lats you lifted your hips against his as he slid back and then buried himself into the hilt. You gasped into his mouth at the ache of him nudging into your guts and then pulling back to his tip only to slide himself back in. Working you open slowly, he continued to drive into your cunt with gushy wet noises coming from your pussy as he stretched you open.

You appreciated him plunging in slowly and easing you into fitting around his cock properly. You liked the warmup but more than that, you needed him to destroy your pussy.

When he felt you bucking upward into him he parted his mouth from yours and sat back with his knees bent. You saw him watching the space where he was connected with your cunt as he continued rolling into you.

His abs were flexing as he steadied himself in and out. You gasped when he began to fuck into you a little faster, his cock sliding through your walls and bumping into all the slick bits on your insides.

A gurgled moan fell from your lips as he smacked his hips into yours. The patting of his balls against your ass came out in wet thuds. Your tits bounced with every long stroke into your tummy and he was panting as he let his eyes scan over your body and up to your pretty face.

“Taking me so well, Y/n. Making me leak into my condom already, pussy’s so good.”

You both moaned as he drove into you, his mattress under you giving way to the force of his thrusts.

“Feels so good, Harry…” you panted.

“Yeah?” He bucked inward and ground against you, swiveling his hips and you gasped at the deep press into your cervix.

His fingers were pinching into your thighs as he stuffed himself in and you gripped his forearms for leverage and lifted your neck to watch as his cock disappeared into your body over and over again.

His shaft was coated with your shiny arousal as he slid in and out, your pussy gripping around his skin perfectly.

Harry’s moans were growing louder as he continued fucking into you wetly, hips slamming against yours making his balls strike into your ass.

His thighs were flexing as he rocked against you while your body was shivering and feeling the bliss of getting an itch scratched that you’d been needing.

You felt his right hand release your thigh and then watched him press his thumb over your slippery clit.

You let out a pathetic cry of relief when he smoothed the pad of his digit in circles on your bud, “Yes! Oh god!”

Harry coughed out a moan as he watched your face twist up, “That feel good, Y/n?”

You focused your sight on his eyes and nodded, “Yes…”

The grin on his face could have been akin to something cocky but your brain was mush as you let him wreck you with deep strokes into your tummy, wet and sloppy, dripping arousal down your ass.

The springs in his mattress were bouncing in time with his thrusts and the wooden frame on his bed creaked when he jerked his hips forward into you.

“Just like that, huh? Pussy needed fucked, yeah?” Harry’s words were coming out tight and shaky. You could hear it in his voice how good it felt for him too.

He pressed down and moved his thumb deliciously over your puffy clit as his cock punched into your organs and tissue making you throw your head back and close your eyes arching your back upward.

Harry loved the sight; your sloppy wet pussy spreading apart for his cock as you arched your back like the sexy thing you were, soft tits swaying every time he buried himself in balls deep, lips parted, neck long and stretched out as you breathily moaned his name, “Hh… Harry…”

He could watch you like this all night. Stretches of skin covered in goosebumps as if you were cold, hard nipples at the center of your wobbly squeezable tits, soft tummy clenching, and wet pussy ruined and clenching around him.

The way he was smushing and circling his thumb over your clit had your head fuzzy and your heart racing. But then he leaned over you and pressed his other hand over your low tummy as he fucked into you, pushing against your insides and making the space he was invading with his cock feel tighter as he slid upward and nudged into your guts.

“Gahhh…” you let out a gasped moan when his hand pressed into your stomach.

“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Harry’s eyes were on yours as he drove himself into you.

You nodded and scrunched your brows upward when your insides began to twist with your pussy stretching around him indulgently.

Your legs began to quiver from the strain of your muscles as you felt your orgasm nearing. Everything he was doing to you set your body alight. You reached for his strong biceps and dug your fingers in tight gasping at the depth of him.

“Be good for me, honey… there you go,” he spoke through clenched teeth, holding back his release, “Right there, huh? Feels good like that?”

You whimpered with a nod as you pinned your eyes to his. The expression on his face was lusty and filled with need as he dipped into you, pasting his hips against yours now, only fucking inward, pressing solidly against your insides.

You cried out when you felt the small burst and snap of your orgasm and he quickly moved his hands from your tummy and clit, leaning his hips against yours before pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of your shoulders and angling his body so he could pound into you and fuck you through your orgasm. The way his pelvis smushed against your clit, hips grinding against you as he pulled back and then forced his way through your opening to bury himself deep inside sent you over the edge.

You clung to his shoulders as you spasmed around his fat cock, slipping deep inside of you with a wet squelch as he reared back to his tip before rutting into the hilt.

Your vision and hearing grew muted as you came so you couldn’t hear him clearly when he babbled off nonsense, “Shit! Squeezing the fuck out of me, honey! Oh my god, that feels good. So fucking hot. Gonna make me come so hard…”

Harry’s hips struck against you repeatedly until his balls constricted and tightened and then he was pumping into his condom, his muscles stiffening with his hips pressed into yours, mashing your body into the mattress underneath you.

He choked out a moan as his cock spurted his release, throbbing and twitching inside of you as you panted at how hard he’d come. The front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours, holding you down with his hips as he drained every drop of his come into his condom.

Then it was silent. The sound of sex and moaning was quieted and the bed was no longer creaking and thumping.

Harry pressed his chest against your tits and you felt his plushy lips on yours again and you sighed against his mouth. Slowly your ears stopped ringing and you smoothed your hands up his strong back.

He pushed his face into your neck and his warm breath dampened your skin, “Happy fucking birthday to me,” he laughed.

You grinned with a tiny giggle and opened your eyes before running your fingers into his thick curls.

When he’d pushed himself up to look down at you, you couldn’t get over how adorably handsome your neighbor was. He was sexy as hell and yet so cute at the same time.

“You all right?” His raspy voice was quiet as he searched your face and brought a hand up to your temple, his thumb drawing over your skin.

The grin on your face should have told him as much as you nodded, “Very much all right.” You puffed out a laugh.

He laughed with you and smiled widely, dimples appearing in his cheeks, “Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Y/n.”

Raising a hand up to his jaw you nodded, a cheeky grin still stretched over your mouth, “And happy birthday to you, Harry.”

Part 2

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hoshifighting · 5 months ago

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— Synopsis: Lonely!Seungkwan shows up at your fishing tent and goes fishing alone because his friends didn't show up. And you make sure he doesn't feel lonely by offering him company on your breaks. — WC: 3.2k — WARNINGS: Mentions of being left out, smut, fluff, penetrative sex, fingering, g'spot stimulation, squirting, oral (m. receiving), sk is mentioned ab being good with girls一he fucks u good because he likes you sm <3

[Issue Club Serie]

You arrive at the fishing center early, just as the first light of dawn breaks over the island bay. The salty tang of the sea air fills your lungs, a familiar comfort. Your dad's fishing center stands quiet and still, a stark contrast to the bustling weekends when groups of men flock here, escaping their everyday lives with beer and fishing rods. You brace yourself for another routine day of serving loud, boisterous customers.

But today is different. As you unlock the kiosk and roll up the gate, you notice a lone figure waiting by the entrance. He's much younger than your usual clientele, with dark brown hair that catches the early morning light. He’s standing there, hands in his pockets, looking slightly out of place.

"Hey," you call out as you finish opening up, "Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, I'd like to rent a fishing rod," he replies, his voice carrying a hint of shyness.

"Just one?" you ask, somewhat surprised. He nods.

You hand him a rod and watch as he sets up at one of the chairs by the water. He moves with a calm, practiced ease, casting his line into the bay and settling in. You expect his friends to arrive soon, but as the morning stretches into afternoon, no one joins him. He remains alone, reeling in a fish here and there with quiet patience.

The hours pass, and you lose yourself in the rhythm of your tasks. When the guy finally returns to the kiosk, you notice the slightly downcast expression on his face as he pays for the rental.

"Did you enjoy yourself?" you ask, trying to sound casual.

He chuckles softly, "Not many options," he says, and you frown, wiping down the counter.

"What do you mean?" you probe gently.

"I invited some friends to come fishing with me today, but no one showed up," he admits, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Your heart squeezes in your chest. There's something about his cool, easy-going demeanor that makes his confession all the more poignant. You feel a pang of sympathy for him. "I'm sorry to hear that," you say sincerely.

He shrugs, offering a pained smile. "It's okay. No need to be."

But you can tell it does bother him. The way he looks down at his hands, the slight slump in his shoulders—it's clear he had hoped for more from today.

As he leaves, you find yourself hoping that next time, he'll have someone to share his fishing trip with. Until then, you'll remember the lonely young man who came to the fishing center, looking for company and finding only the quiet expanse of the bay.

A few days pass, and the familiar sight of the boy on his bike comes into view again. Your kiosk is already open as he pedals up. You glance at him and smile. “Good morning...?”

“Seungkwan,” he says with a small nod.

“How can I help you today?” you ask, leaning your elbows on the counter.

“One fishing rod, please,” he replies.

“Again,” you think to yourself. You give him a small smile and hand him the rod. He sets up alone, just like last time. You sigh at the sight. It’s a sunny Thursday, the perfect morning to fish under the warm sun with good company. With no customers around, you decide to join him.

You grab your fishing rod, some bait, and two glasses of cold lemonade. As you approach, you place the cups on the table next to him and your things on the floor. Seungkwan watches you set up a chair beside him, glancing at the two glasses. You start fishing by his side, and it’s completely silent. Seungkwan seems so used to being alone that your presence feels foreign to him.

After a while, the silence begins to feel natural. You break it, asking, “Is there a reason why your friends didn’t come today?”

He looks at you before turning his gaze back to the water. “Well, Joshua works a lot, Seokmin studies non-stop, Woozi doesn’t leave his home, and Jeonghan is dating right now. So... I don’t blame them.”

You hum thoughtfully. “They must be very busy.”

He nods. “They are.”

You hand him the lemonade, and he thanks you. Then, he asks, “Why are you fishing with me?”

“Well, I’m not exactly fishing,” you say. You both glance at your rod, which is just laying in the water, not cast far out, just resting on the sand.

He laughs. “Yes, I’ve noticed.”

You shrug, laughing too. “I’m used to selling fishing stuff, not really going fishing.”

“Then why are you fishing now?” he asks.

You smile. “I wanted to talk with you.”

Seungkwan looks surprised. “You don’t need to keep me company out of pity.”

“No,” you brush his idea away, “I really wanted to get to know you.”

Someone genuinely excited to know about him? He feels so happy he almost explodes. Every time you ask him about his favorite song, what he likes to do, what he’s studying, or why he likes to fish, he feels more and more content.

As the morning sun climbs higher, your conversations flow easily, the gap between two strangers closing bit by bit.

Seungkwan fights the urge to visit your dad's fishing center every day. He doesn't want to seem desperate. Each time he comes, he brings something new—a sweet treat, a fresh loaf of bread. You two have developed a routine of walking along the beach at sunset, feeling the cool waves lap at your feet.

Sometimes, he even helps you with the work at the tent. Your dad is charmed by his kindness, and you can't help but love Seungkwan's company too.

He's become like a keychain, always by your side. The thoughts of him being alone have dissipated since he met you. Your friends adore him too, though you sometimes have to remind them that you were his friend first. His good looks don't go unnoticed, and it’s hard to deny that you noticed his charisma from the first time you saw him.

Now, as you close the kiosk after a successful Saturday, Seungkwan helps roll down the window gate. Your dad has gone to take some goods to the city center, leaving just the two of you. You rearrange the fishing rods on the holder on the wall, glancing at Seungkwan out of the corner of your eye. darkened interior closed kiosk, you can see the outline of his physique through his tight shirt.

"Thanks for your help today," you say, trying to sound casual.

"No problem. I like being here," he replies with a smile.

You finish with the rods and turn to face him fully. "You know, you don't have to bring something every time you come."

He shrugs, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I like seeing you smile."

The words make your heart skip a beat. You step closer, his body resting on the counter "I like seeing you too, Seungkwan."

He seems to consider this for a moment, then says, "I don't feel so alone anymore, thanks to you."

The tension between you installs, but it's a comforting kind of tension, one that promises something more. In that moment, you realize how much he means to you, how much his presence has become a part of your life. The darkness of the kiosk feels intimate, like a cocoon wrapping around the two of you.

"You know," you say, trying to lighten the mood a bit, "you're pretty good at this fishing center stuff. My dad might start paying you."

Seungkwan laughs, the sound filling the small space. "I'd do it for free, just to be around you."

Your heart swells at his words. "Careful, or I might just take you up on that."

He grins, and the warmth in his eyes makes you feel like the luckiest person in the world. "Deal,"

You two start to notice how close your bodies have become, a proximity you didn't even realize until now. The air is thick with the shared breath between you and Seungkwan, heavy and shallow. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, and you sense him moving even closer.

"Seungkwan," you say softly, breaking the tension. "You said you were alone because of your friends... but I never asked if you had a girlfriend."

He looks at you, his expression serious. "No, I don't."

Your heart races as you gently pull on the hem of his shirt. "So, if I kiss you right now, there won't be any problems, right?"

He breathes out slowly, his eyes locked onto yours. "No problems at all," he whispers.

You take advantage of the intimate darkness of the kiosk, leaning in to press your lips against his. His body responds instantly, molding against yours. One of his hands finds its way behind your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss, while the other slides down to your ribs, fingers teasing the edge of your bikini, thumb sliding on your underboob before slipping under it to touch your nipples.

The sound of your kisses fills the small space, wet and urgent. "Kwan," you gasp, pulling back slightly to catch your breath.

He hums, eyes dark with desire as he looks at you. You turn quickly to lock the door, a preventable act. Before you can turn back, Seungkwan's body is pressed against yours from behind. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as his hips grind on your ass. You can feel the hard bulge between his legs pressing against you.

Your head rolls back onto his shoulder as you linger in the sensation, his lips finding your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses. His hands roam over your body, one slipping inside your shorts, the other trailing up to your boob.

One thing Seokmin had told you when Seungkwan brought you to meet him was that Seungkwan was really good with girls when they studied together.

You had forgotten it.

But now, with his fingers moving in and out of your pussy, under your bikini, as you grind against him, the memory suddenly resurfaces. You didn't even notice when you started moaning, your head resting on his shoulder, mouth open as louder moans escape with each movement of his fingers.

You feel so wet, as if you'd been swimming in the ocean, but the truth is that you're melting under Seungkwan's touch. He curls his fingers against your g'spot, and you quiver, your hand bumping against the wall, knocking a few fishing rods to the ground.

"C-cumin'," you warn, your hips rolling against his hand.

He intensifies the curl of his fingers, making them go deep into your pussy, reaching the spongy spot harder, making your body flinch up with the strength of his grip. His other hand holds your ass firmly against his cock, guiding your movements.

"That's it," he whispers in your ear. "Let go."

Your back arches, pushing your ass harder against him. The sensation completely consumes you, every nerve in your body is glowing with delight. Your orgasm builds rapidly, the tension coiling tightly in your core until it snaps, making you cum, his hand drenched inside your bikini. You cry out, your body trembling as you ride the high of your orgasm, Seungkwan's fingers never stopping their fast pace.

As you come down from your peak, he holds you close, his breath hot against your neck. You can still feel the hardness of his cock pressing against you, a constant reminder of how much you both desire each other.

He removes his hand from inside your bikini and shorts, and you can feel the wetness as he slides his hand up your belly. Your mind snaps to attention when you hear him sucking his fingers clean, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. You turn around, your legs like jelly as you manage to kneel between him and the door.

Your hands are desperate to find the hard muscle of his cock. Seungkwan braces himself by laying a hand on the door frame, and the sight of his cock, slightly slapping your face as you pull his boxers down, makes his knees quiver. The bulbous head rests against your cheek, smearing precum on your skin.

You relax your jaw, preparing yourself. Holding the crown of his cock, you prop your hands on his balls and take his perfect length into your mouth. You've seen a lot of beautiful things in your life, but hearing Seungkwan's moans is quickly becoming your favorite. He moans, sensitive to the slightest licks, and the sound makes you keenly aware of how wet you are, your bikini and shorts sopping together.

"God, you feel so good," he groans, his voice strained with pleasure. His fingers tangle in your hair, gently guiding you.

You hum in response, the vibration making him twitch in your mouth. You take him deeper, savoring the salty taste and the way he fills your mouth. Each moan he releases, more you deepthroat him, your cum pooling between your legs.

Seungkwan's breathing becomes ragged, his hips bucking slightly as he tries to control himself, his grip tightening in your hair.

You pull back slightly, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock before taking him in again. The way he reacts to every touch, every flick of your tongue, makes you feel powerful, in control. You glance up at him, seeing the bliss etched on his face, lit bitten to contain his moans, and it only spurs you on.

The sounds of his pleasure, the taste of him, the feel of his body trembling—it's unforgettable. You lose yourself in the act, in the way you're linked, the darkness of the kiosk, the intimacy of the moment, everything else fades away.

He pulls you off him with a gentle but firm hand, panting heavily. "I don't want to finish like this," he says, voice hoarse. "I want to be inside you."

You nod, breathless and eager. He helps you to your feet, and you feel the slickness between your thighs, a signal of your arousal. Seungkwan kisses you deeply, hungrily, tasting himself on your tongue as he guides you to the counter. His hands roam over your body, shivers following whenever he moves them on you.

You lean back, feeling the cool surface against your skin as he pushes your shorts and bikini aside. Every nerve in your body alight with need., and Seungkwan seems very proud of the effect he was having on you.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice a low growl.

"Yes," you breathe, barely able to wait any longer.

With a final, searing kiss, he positions himself and pushes into you slowly, filling you completely, his cock so rigid, fighting to penetrate, as your pussy squelch around him. He starts to thrust in and out slowly, even gradually the feeling is intense, because you had already one orgasm, and Seungkwan was looking for his.

"Seungkwan," you moan, your hands gripping the edge of the counter for support.

He groans in response, his movements becoming more urgent. "I can't hold back," he admits, his voice strained.

"Don't," you say, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer. "Faster, please," you ask, your voice desperate against his lips.

The request makes him nearly collapse to his knees, overwhelmed by your need.

Seungkwan adjusts his grip, holding your leg up with one hand under your knee, spreading you wider as he thrusts deeper. Your head falls back, strangled moans escaping your mouth as your eyes roll back in ecstasy. The sensation is overwhelming, the heat of his embrace makes you feel dizzy and weightless.

At a certain point, you become aware of Seungkwan sobbing in pleasure in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. You glance down, seeing yourself dripping onto the ground, squirting uncontrollably. You couldn't hold back even if you tried; the orgasm doesn't just crash over you—it overturns you completely.

You stare in shock, gasping for air as the longest orgasm of your life pulses through you. Your body convulses with pleasure, and Seungkwan's reaction only heightens the intensity. His raspy moans fill the air, his balance faltering as he tries to maintain his rhythm.

He pulls out of you, unable to hold back any longer, and strokes his cock with his hand. His cum spills onto the floor, mixing with your own fluids. His body convulses against yours, and you can feel his weight as he leans on you for support.

You're left trembling, unsure whether to hold onto the counter behind you or to cling to him. Your legs are weak, and your breaths come in shallow gasps. Seungkwan's body is still pressed against yours, both of you trying to catch your breath in the aftermath of such an intense experience.

"Are you okay?" he asks, his voice still shaky.

You don't answer, your breath still coming in shaky gasps. Instead, you pull Seungkwan into a tight hug, feeling his warmth envelop you. He hugs you back just as tightly, his face buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent.

The two of you stand there for a while, wrapped up in each other, trying to regain your composure. Your heart is pounding, but there's a sense of calm in the embrace, a shared understanding that words can't quite capture.

His hands move gently over your back, a soothing motion that helps you steady your breathing. You can feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own.

Seungkwan finally breaks the silence, his voice soft and filled with emotion. "I don't want this to end," he whispers.

You nod against his shoulder, your fingers tangling in his hair. "Me neither."

He pulls back slightly to look at you, "I never thought I'd find someone like you here, I don't want to be alone again," he admits, his voice barely more than a murmur.

You smile, knowing that the day you decided to spend with this lovely boy, resulted in something like this. "I feel the same way."

His thumb brushes your cheek, wiping away a stray tear you hadn't realized was there. "Let's not let this be just a moment," he says, his gaze earnest. "I want to be with you, really be with you."

Your heart swells at his words, the sincerity in his voice making you feel lighter than air. "I'd like that," you say, your voice steady and sure.

He smiles, and it's like the sun breaking through the clouds. "Good," he replies, leaning in to kiss you softly.

The kiss is gentle, a promise of more to come. As you pull back, you both laugh softly, the tension melting away into something lighter, more hopeful.

"We should probably clean up," you say with a small chuckle, glancing at the mess on the floor.

Seungkwan nods, a playful grin on his face. "Yeah, we made quite the mess."

Together, you set about tidying up the kiosk, the comfortable silence between you filled with a new sense of unity. Every now and then, your hands brush against each other, sending those butterflies to your stomachs. The mundane task of cleaning up feels almost ceremonial now—a simple act that solidifies the bond between you.

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crxss01 · 1 year ago

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Okay, so if Miles (e!42) is a boob guy, and Miles (e!1610) is a ass guy, who likes thighs? 🤭

— My Boy

pairing ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ 42!miles morales x reader, 1610!miles morales x reader, hobie brown x reader

summary ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ they just love using your thighs as stress balls and as pillows too.

warnings ✧˖ ° cuddling, squeezing + kissing + smacking of thighs, mature themes, cursing, reader has she/her pronouns.

m. list, main m. list.

translations ✧࿓☾ princesa: princess, quítate de arriba de ella, ahora mismo: move off of her, right now, querida: dear, buenas noches: good night, mi angelito: my little angel, bonito: handsome/or pretty boy, bebé: baby.

a/n . . ◟੭ hey, love! this had me thinking a lot and i loved writing this for you. hope you enjoy!

now if you were asking between the two miles who is the thighs boy, the answer is both.

42!miles morales

miles was laying in bed his head on the pillow, one arm covering half of his face as he watched you walk around his room only wearing his shirt that reached barely pass your ass. his focus being on the movement of your thighs and wanting nothing more than to touch them at the moment, but you were doing your own thing.

“princesa, come back to bed.” he groaned.

“i can’t, miles. i don’t know why i do this to myself.” you complained. “always waiting last minute to finish shit.”

you had a school project due tomorrow and you had previously decided that you only wanted to spend time with your boyfriend all weekend so that’s what you did, but then your friend had texted you saying how much your final grade depended on that project so now here you were trying to get started on it.

“mami, i’ll let you use mine if you want.” he offered, and sat up. “i’m doing good in that class, way too good so that bald headed teacher can’t fail me for not doing his project.”

“you did it already?” you asked, turning around and looking at him surprised.

“yeah, on friday during free time.” he shrugged like it was nothing.

you slid your hand down your face. “why am i not as smart and organized as my boyfriend.”

“i’ll be smart enough for both of us.” he walked to you and picked you up, hands on your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him.

“thank you.” you kissed him and he gladly returned the kiss.

miles was squeezing you thighs, kneading the soft flesh like it was nothing more than dough and you hummed against his lips, loving the feeling. he ran his hand up and down then squeezed, repeating this process over and over again.

“i just love them.” he pulled away before connecting his lips to your neck, placing you on his bed, your head landing on his pillow and his hands never leaving your thighs.

“miles morales!”

he moved so fast, covering you with his blanket and looking at his mom as she stood at his bedroom door, hand on her hips.

“quítate de arriba de ella, ahora mismo!” tía morales yelled at her son, then calmed down when he did as she ordered, looking at your flustered expression with a smile. “i’m about to leave for my shift, querida. but don’t hesitate to call me if he tries something else. buenas noches!” she closed the door.

miles rolled his eyes and looked at you with a smirk.

“nope.” you shook your head. “you heard what she said.” you put on a serious face, trying hard not to laugh. “try something and i’ll call her.”

“whatever,” he took the off of you and opened your legs. “i’m going to sleep then, right in here.” he laid his head on your thigh and then put the other thigh on top his head.

“miles, this position is not comfortable.”

“for me it is,” he dismissed. “sleep well, mi angelito.”

“bonitoo, get off…” you groaned.

yeah, your thighs were going to be sore when you wake up tomorrow because there is no way to move him away from there.

1610!miles morales

“bonito!”

“bebé!” miles exclaimed when he caught you after you practically jumped on top of him.

“i missed you.” you told him, pulling up his spiderman mask just above his nose and leaving a peck on his lips.

“i was only gone for an hour.” he chuckled.

“i know.” you complained. “that’s too long.”

“i will take a shower and then make it up to you, is that okay?” he offered.

“only if you let me shower with you.” you gave him a cheeky grin.

you both laid down on his bed after taking a shower together that was full of water fights and gossip about criminal’s and people from your school, also a few kisses were shared here and there. miles even washed your legs for you, but you knew damn well he just wanted to touch your thighs.

now he was placing kisses on both of them as his head was on your lower abdomen.

“i wish i could just stay here forever.” he sighed, delivering another kiss to your right thigh.

“well you can’t.” you laughed. “i will get tired of keeping them up for you, bonito.”

“i can always have my webs hold them up for you.”

“what? no!” you laughed harder at that. “don’t say stuff like that, bonito.”

“i would do it though, bebé.” he smiled, placing a kiss to your left thigh. happy to make you laugh like that. “just say the word and i’ll do it.”

“it’s fine, bonito.” you shook your head with a smile. “i’ll keep them up for you.”

“thank you.” he gave a full teeth smile and pulled your thighs closer to his face until he was squeezed in between them.

you took a picture of him because he looked so adorable, adding it to your mi bonito <3 album.

now if you meant a character aside from this two then it is…

hobie brown

ever since hobie met you he had a tendency of just staring at your thighs and when you two became official he wouldn’t just stare at it, he would smack it as well.

you didn’t mind at all but at times like this, like right now that you two were in public and he had just gone for it and smacked your thigh from behind you couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

your head was buried in his arm after that, the fabric of his jacket rubbing your face as you two walked alongside each other. hobie had the audacity to do it again and chuckle when he had the reaction he wanted from you.

“sweetheart, it’s alright. they don’t give a fuck.” he nonchalantly said, pointing at everyone around you and showing how nobody was paying attention to you two.

“it doesn’t matter, stop.” you said, taking your face away from his arm. you weren’t serious even though you were embarrassed, you absolutely loved how much he liked your thighs. it made you feel a lot confident about them.

“should’ve thought about that before wearing that skirt.” he shrugged, then his arm moved away from your grip, coming down to your thigh and squeezing it.

“hobie!” you half-screamed, looking around to see if anybody was watching you.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he sounded so innocent.

this fucker.

“don’t do this in public.”

“okay. i’ll do much more in private, then.” he simply said.

your thigh was slapped then squeezed once again.

taglist: @hoseokslefteyebrow @anikaluv

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ reblogs are really appreciated!

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kiesbrainjuice · 4 months ago

Text

— ITS VOLLEYBALL OR ME ! tobio kageyama

➥ syn : too obsessed with volleyball make you nearly loose your wife!

➥ wc : 3.5k

➥ tw : angst to fluff, heated argument, reader cry a lot, comfort

As I sat alone in our quiet apartment, I couldn't help but reflect on the life I shared with my husband, Tobio Kageyama. We'd been married for three years now, and while I loved him deeply, his obsession with volleyball was starting to take its toll on our relationship.

Tobio had always been passionate about the sport, even back in high school when we first met. I found his dedication admirable then, and it was one of the things that drew me to him. But now, as a professional player, his commitment had reached new heights – often at the expense of our time together.

Our days followed a predictable pattern. Tobio would wake up at dawn, go for a run, then head to practice. He'd return home late in the evening, exhausted but still buzzing with energy as he analyzed his performance or watched recordings of matches. Even during meals, his mind was on the court, discussing strategies or areas he wanted to improve.

At first, I tried to involve myself in his world. I attended his matches, learned the intricacies of the game, and even attempted to play a bit myself. But as time went on, I found myself feeling more and more like a spectator in my own marriage.

The loneliness crept in slowly. Weekends that should have been ours were filled with extra training sessions or team-building exercises. Holidays were planned around his tournament schedule. Even on the rare occasions when we did have time together, Tobio's thoughts were often elsewhere, replaying moments from recent games or strategizing for upcoming ones.

I'd tried talking to him about it, of course. Tobio would always apologize, promise to do better, to make more time for us. And for a while, things would improve. But inevitably, the siren call of the volleyball court would draw him back, leaving me alone once again.

Tonight was supposed to be different. We had plans – actual plans – for a date night. Dinner at the new restaurant downtown, followed by a walk in the park. It wasn't much, but I had been looking forward to it all week. A chance to reconnect, to remember why we fell in love in the first place.

But as the hours ticked by and Tobio didn't show up, I felt the familiar ache of disappointment settling in my chest. I knew, without having to call or text, exactly where he was. The gym. Always the gym.

As I sat there, dressed up with nowhere to go, I couldn't help but wonder: was this what the rest of my life would look like? Always coming second to a sport? Always waiting for a man who was more committed to his team than to his wife?

The anger began to build, a slow simmer that gradually rose to a boil. I'd had enough. It was time to go home and have a serious conversation with my husband – whenever he decided to show up.

I stormed into our apartment, tears streaming down my face. The silence that greeted me only fueled my anger and hurt. I slammed the door behind me, not caring about the noise.

With shaking hands, I unzipped my dress - the one I'd carefully chosen for our date - and let it fall to the floor. I didn't bother hanging it up, instead leaving it in a crumpled heap as I made my way to the bathroom.

The hot water of the shower mingled with my tears. I stood there, letting it wash over me, trying to calm the storm of emotions raging inside. Disappointment, frustration, loneliness - they all swirled together, threatening to overwhelm me.

After what felt like hours, I finally stepped out, wrapping myself in a towel. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for another night alone.

But as I walked into the kitchen, I froze. There was Tobio, still in his practice clothes, sweat glistening on his forehead. He was rummaging through the fridge, completely oblivious to the turmoil he'd caused.

"Oh, you're home," he said, glancing up at me with a casual smile. "Practice ran late. Did you eat yet?"

I stared at him, my jaw clenched. The familiar rage bubbled up inside me, but this time, I pushed it down. Instead, I felt a cold detachment settling over me.

"No," I replied, my voice flat. "I haven't eaten."

Tobio raised an eyebrow at my tone but didn't seem to pick up on the tension. "Great, I'm starving. Want to order in?"

I shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "Whatever you want."

He paused, finally seeming to notice something was off. "Are you okay?"

I didn't answer, simply turning away to head to the bedroom. "I'm tired. Order what you like."

As I walked away, I could feel his confused gaze on my back. But for once, I didn't care about explaining or smoothing things over. Let him wonder. Let him figure it out for himself.

I closed the bedroom door behind me, leaving Tobio alone in the kitchen. The wall of silence between us felt impenetrable, and for the first time, I wasn't sure I wanted to break it down.

I slipped into my pajamas mechanically, my movements slow and deliberate. The soft fabric offered little comfort as I climbed into bed, pulling the sheets up to my chin and turning to face the wall. I could hear Tobio moving around in the kitchen, the familiar sounds of his evening routine doing nothing to soothe the ache in my chest.

Minutes later, I heard his footsteps approaching the bedroom. The door creaked open, and I felt the bed dip as he settled in beside me. His arm snaked around my waist, pulling me close. His breath was warm against my neck as he nuzzled into me.

"Hey," he murmured, his voice soft. "Is everything okay? You seem upset."

For a moment, I said nothing, my body rigid in his embrace. Then, something inside me snapped. I took a deep, shuddering breath and spoke, my voice eerily calm despite the storm raging within.

"No, Tobio. Everything is not okay." I didn't turn to face him, keeping my gaze fixed on the wall. "Do you know where I was tonight?"

I felt him tense behind me. "What do you mean?"

"I was at Ristorante Bella. Sitting at a table for two, all alone." My voice remained steady, but each word was laced with hurt. "I waited for you for two hours, Tobio. Two hours of watching other couples enjoy their meals, of pitying glances from the waitstaff, of making excuses for why my husband wasn't there."

I paused, letting the words sink in. "We had plans tonight. Plans we made a week ago. But once again, volleyball took priority."

Tobio's arm loosened around me. "I... I forgot. Practice ran late, and I-"

"You didn't even text," I interrupted, finally rolling over to face him. In the dim light, I could see the shock and guilt etched across his features. "You didn't call. You just... forgot about me. About us."

I watched as realization dawned on his face. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching out to touch my cheek. "I didn't mean to-"

I pulled away from his touch. "That's the problem, Tobio. You never mean to. But it keeps happening. Over and over again." I sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. "I can't keep doing this. I can't keep coming second to volleyball."

Tobio sat up, running a hand through his hair. "What are you saying?"

I met his gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm saying that something needs to change. Because right now, I feel like I'm losing you... and I'm not sure how much longer I can hold on."

The silence that fell between us was heavy with unspoken words and uncertain futures. As I turned away from him once more, I wondered if this would be the wake-up call we needed, or if it was the beginning of the end.

I couldn't stand lying there anymore, the tension thick in the air. I abruptly sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Tobio asked, his voice tinged with confusion and worry.

"I can't do this here," I said, walking out of the bedroom. I heard him scramble to follow me.

In the living room, I whirled to face him. "Do you have any idea how it feels, Tobio? To constantly be an afterthought in your own marriage?"

His face contorted with guilt. "You're not an afterthought. I just got caught up in practice-"

"It's always practice!" I interrupted, my voice rising. "Or a game, or watching tapes, or team bonding. When was the last time we had a real conversation that didn't revolve around volleyball?"

Tobio ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. "Volleyball is my career. You knew that when you married me."

"I married a man, not a sport!" I shot back. "I love that you're passionate about volleyball, Tobio. I really do. But sometimes it's just... it's too much."

My voice cracked on the last word, and suddenly the tears I'd been holding back spilled over. "Do you know how many nights I spend alone in this apartment? How many dinners I eat by myself? How many times I've had to make excuses to our friends about why you couldn't make it to their events?"

Tobio took a step towards me, his hand outstretched, but I backed away. "I'm trying to support your dreams, but I feel like I'm disappearing. Like I'm fading away, and you don't even notice."

My next words came out as a choked whisper, "Do you even still love me, Tobio? Or am I just... convenient? Someone to come home to when volleyball is done with you for the day?"

Tobio's eyes widened in shock. "Of course I love you! How can you even ask that?"

"Because I don't feel it!" I cried, the dam finally breaking. "I don't feel loved when you forget our plans. I don't feel loved when you'd rather stay late at practice than spend time with me. I don't feel loved when I'm always, always second to volleyball."

I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very small. "I'm tired, Tobio. I'm so tired of competing with a sport for my husband's attention. And I don't know how much longer I can do this."

The silence that followed was deafening. We stood there, meters apart but feeling like miles, as the weight of my words hung in the air between us.

Tobio's face contorted, a mix of hurt and anger flashing in his eyes. "You think I don't care about you? Everything I do, all the practice, all the games - it's for us! For our future!"

"Our future?" I scoffed, my voice rising. "What future, Tobio? The one where I'm always alone, always waiting for you to remember I exist?"

He took a step forward, his fists clenched at his sides. "That's not fair! You knew how important volleyball was to me when we got married. You can't just decide now that it's too much!"

"I'm not asking you to quit!" I shouted back, my frustration boiling over. "I'm asking you to remember that you have a wife, that you have a life outside of that gym!"

Tobio ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. "You don't understand. This is my dream, my passion-"

"And what about my dreams?" I interjected, my voice cracking. "What about my passion for having a real marriage, a real partnership?"

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "What do you want from me? To give up everything I've worked for?"

"I want you to care!" I screamed, tears streaming down my face. "I want you to show up when we have plans! I want you to text me when you're going to be late! Is that really too much to ask?"

Tobio's jaw clenched. "You're being selfish. You knew what you were getting into-"

"Selfish?" I repeated, incredulous. "Selfish is forgetting your wife exists the moment you step onto that court. Selfish is making me feel like I don't matter in my own marriage!"

We stood there, chests heaving, glaring at each other. The silence was deafening, filled with all the hurt and resentment that had been building for months.

"Maybe..." Tobio started, his voice low and dangerous. "Maybe you just don't understand what it takes to be the best. Maybe you never will."

His words hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled back, feeling as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. "Maybe I don't," I whispered, my anger suddenly deflating into a bone-deep weariness. "And maybe that's the problem."

I turned away, unable to look at him anymore. "I can't do this right now. I need... I need some space."

Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my keys and headed for the door, leaving Tobio standing alone in the middle of our living room.

Days had passed since our explosive argument. I'd retreated to our second apartment, a small place we kept for when either of us needed space. The solitude had given me time to think, to process my emotions, and to consider our future.

I was in the kitchen, absently stirring a pot of pasta, when the doorbell rang. Wiping my hands on a dish towel, I made my way to the door, wondering who it could be.

As I opened it, my breath caught in my throat. There stood Tobio, looking more disheveled than I'd ever seen him. His eyes were red and puffy, clear evidence that he'd been crying. In his hands, he clutched a bouquet of my favorite flowers.

Before I could ask why he wasn't at practice, Tobio spoke, his voice hoarse and barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."

Those two words, filled with such raw emotion, made my heart clench. I stepped back wordlessly, allowing him to enter.

Tobio shuffled in, his usual confident posture replaced by a slump of defeat. He placed the flowers on the nearby table and turned to face me, his eyes filled with guilt and remorse.

"I've been an idiot," he began, his voice shaky. "These past few days... they've been hell. I couldn't focus on practice, couldn't sleep. All I could think about was how much I've hurt you."

I leaned against the wall, crossing my arms protectively over my chest. "Tobio..."

He held up a hand, asking me to let him continue. "You were right. About everything. I've been so caught up in volleyball that I forgot what's truly important. You. Us."

Tobio took a step closer, his eyes never leaving mine. "I love you. More than volleyball, more than anything. And I'm sorry it took me so long to realize how much I've been neglecting you."

Tears welled up in my eyes as he continued. "I've talked to my coach. I'm cutting back on extra practices. I'm going to be home more, be present more. I want to be the husband you deserve."

He reached out, gently taking my hands in his. "I can't promise I'll be perfect. But I can promise that from now on, you'll always come first. No more forgotten dates, no more nights alone. I want to make this work. I need to make this work."

The sincerity in his voice, the pain in his eyes - it was all too much. I felt my resolve crumbling as tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Oh, Tobio," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion.

He pulled me into his arms, holding me tight against his chest. I could feel his heart racing, matching the rapid beat of my own.

"I love you," he murmured into my hair. "Please, give me another chance. Let me show you how much you mean to me."

I pulled back slightly, looking up into his face. The Tobio I saw there wasn't the volleyball-obsessed athlete, but the man I fell in love with - vulnerable, caring, and completely devoted.

"Okay," I said softly, a small smile tugging at my lips. "We'll try again. Together."

Tobio's face lit up with relief and joy. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine. "Together," he agreed.

As we stood there, wrapped in each other's arms, I felt hope blooming in my chest. We had a long way to go, but this was a start. A new beginning for us both.

Tobio held me close, his strong arms enveloping me in a comforting embrace. I could feel his chest rise and fall with each deep breath, as if he was trying to memorize this moment.

"I've missed you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. His hands gently stroked my back, soothing away the tension I'd been carrying for days.

I burrowed deeper into his chest, inhaling his familiar scent. "I missed you too," I whispered back, my fingers clutching at his shirt.

We stood like that for a long while, just holding each other, reconnecting without words. Eventually, the timer in the kitchen beeped, reminding me of the dinner I'd been preparing.

"I should check on the pasta," I said, reluctantly starting to pull away.

But Tobio's arms tightened around me. "Let me help," he said, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. "I want to do this together."

Hand in hand, we walked to the kitchen. As I stirred the pasta, Tobio stood behind me, his arms wrapped around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder. It was as if he couldn't bear to lose physical contact with me, even for a moment.

We moved around the small kitchen, working in tandem to finish preparing the meal. Tobio insisted on helping with every task, from chopping vegetables for the salad to setting the table. All the while, he kept finding excuses to touch me - a gentle hand on my lower back as he reached for plates, fingers brushing mine as he passed me utensils, a quick kiss on my cheek as I plated the food.

As we sat down to eat, Tobio pulled his chair closer to mine, our knees touching under the table. He reached out, taking my hand in his, his thumb gently caressing my knuckles.

"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity that took my breath away.

"For what?" I asked, squeezing his hand.

"For giving me another chance. For being patient with me. For loving me, even when I didn't deserve it." His voice was low, filled with sincerity.

I felt tears prick at my eyes again, but this time they were tears of happiness. "We're in this together, remember?" I reminded him with a small smile.

Tobio nodded, bringing my hand to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss to my palm. "Together," he agreed.

Throughout dinner, Tobio kept finding ways to maintain physical contact - his foot hooked around my ankle, his hand resting on my knee, our shoulders brushing as we ate. It was as if he was trying to make up for all the lost time, all the moments of disconnection.

After we finished eating, Tobio insisted on doing the dishes, pulling me along with him to the sink. We washed and dried in comfortable silence, stealing glances and soft smiles.

As we finished up, Tobio pulled me into another embrace, nuzzling his face into my neck. "Can we just stay like this for a while?" he murmured against my skin.

I nodded, wrapping my arms around him tightly. "As long as you want," I whispered back.

We stood there in the kitchen, holding each other close, the gentle ticking of the clock the only sound in the apartment.

tag : @haechansbbg

#haikyu fluff #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x you #hq fluff #hq x reader #hq kageyama #hq tobio #kageyama tobio x reader #haikyuu tobio #kageyama tobio #tobio kageyama x reader #kegayama tobio #kageyama x reader #kageyama #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama fluff

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papercorgiworld · 10 months ago

Text

Revenge of a simp

Pick your guy: Mattheo Riddle or Theodore Nott

You have been in love with him since forever, slowly you make your way into his life. When he breaks your heart you and Cedric Diggory team up to get him jealous.

So happy to have finally finished this. I really hope it’s good. Not too sure about the title though… Definitely let me know if there are any mistakes.

Warning: save to read until the smut warning, or if you want you can just skip ahead to the smut…

I. You fell first

You liked him and it was obvious. Then again that was kind of the point. After a year of crushing on the guy, it was time to slowly wiggle your way in his life and so far so good.

You talked regularly, mostly before or after class, having small discussions about the material or brainstorm on a project. During the weekends you heard and saw less of him, because he was usually with his small circle of friends. However, most recently you had started to win over Pansy which meant that you tagged along sometimes when they visited Hogsmeade, but even then he spent most of his time talking with his friends. But the most important thing was that you were getting closer to him, you were going to conquer your crush. And today was a magical day.

A small paper butterfly landed on your desk and you frowned, opening it very carefully, wary of any possible pranks. You read it and immediately felt your cheeks heat up. You tried to calm and cool yourself down with a deep breath, before turning around to him and nodding.

Meet me after quidditch training?

Maybe? Please?

M.R.

You nervously waited for Mattheo to finish showering and stared around the quidditch stadium, quietly daydreaming. Suddenly you feel a hand on the small of your back and quickly turn around. “Ready to go?” You smile, but look a bit puzzled. “Go where?” He gestures at the books in his hands. “The library, I really need your help with my history assignment.” You stare at the books and nod. This sure wasn’t the romantic date you were hoping for, but you still get to spend some time with him.

Spending time with Mattheo in the library wasn’t disappointing at all. He settled close to you and gave you all his attention. “I’m so happy to have you here with me. It makes so much more sense now that I understand the assignment properly. I must’ve been distracted when Binns explained it.” You laugh as he eagerly writes some stuff down. “Always happy to help. I could give you my notes. I write down a lot, probably too much, but I like some background information on the events, makes it easier to remember.” He stares at you and smiles. You return his smile awkwardly, tilting your head a bit to ask: why are you staring?. He shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle. “Sure, your notes will definitely be helpful.”

“Hey, Matt, you joining us up?” Pansy asks as she points her finger up, which refers to the astronomy tower. Mattheo nods and offers you a sweet smile. “Thank you so much for your help.” You try to hide your disappointment and force a smile. As he scrabbles his books and papers together Pansy looks at you. “Are you going to tomorrow's party?” You stay quiet for a moment, you hadn’t really thought about it. “You should. If you want, we can meet beforehand.” You look at her like you’ve fallen in love with her. “Yeah, that would be nice.” She nods.

“What was that about?” You hear Mattheo’s harsh whisper as they walk away. “I could ask you the same?” Pansy whispers back and you can’t help but stay put a moment to think it over.

Meet me after training?

Please?

You were eager and got there early, too early. He had only just landed when you arrived at the quidditch pitch. “You’re a bit early.” He chuckles as walks up to you all sweaty and panting. “I know, but I can just sit in the stands as you shower.” You feel yourself get flustered as he carefully watches you. “The weather is nice, so that’s why I’m early.” You try to sound as casual and convincing as possible, but his soft chuckle is proof of how nervous you sound. “I’ll be quick.” He just says and joins his friends in the direction of the baracs. You sigh, hating how much of a fool you can be when you’re around Theodore. Merlin have mercy, I’m so down for this guy.

Theo watches your hands fiddle as you stare at the clouds. “Hey dreamy, you ready to help me with my potions project?” You jump a little as his voice startles you. You nod. It wasn’t the first time you had studied together, but you were confused that he asked you for help since he was a star student despite his lack of effort. Even more absurd was that he apparently needed your help with potions. You get up and walk towards him. “Potions? Why would you need my help with potions?” You ask with your eyebrows knit together. “I mean you’re like a potions genius.” Theodore laughs at your dramatics, obviously not that good with compliments. “I want some extra credit with Sluggy so I’m writing an essay on Mandrake Restorative Draught. And then I remembered that you wrote an essay on Mandrakes so I thought you might be able to help.” Your eyes get all shiny, you’re happily surprised that he remembered.

While you search for the best books on Mandrakes Theo follows you around questioning you about all things Mandrake. When you try but fail to reach one of the books on the top shelf he is eager to help, but you are surprised by how close he comes, locking your figure between his body and the books. “This one?” He asks with his eyes on yours, referring to the book and you nod, hating the feeling of your face heating up. You feel saved when Pansy shows up. “Theo, you joining us up?” Pansy asks as she points her finger up, which refers to the astronomy tower. “Of course, be there in a minute.” Theodore answers, expecting Pansy to leave. However she stays and smirks. “(Y/n) wanna meet up before the party tomorrow? We can get changed together, it’ll be fun.” You frown for a moment. “I wasn’t planning on going, but I would love to.” Pansy smirks. “Good.” You don’t notice Theodore’s annoyed expression at Pansy and just watch him pass you. “See you later.” Is all he says and you hear Pansy snicker as Theodore growls something under his breath.

II. The kiss

Getting ready with Pansy was a blast. She made all your worries disappear and gave you a massive confidence boost. You stare yourself down in the mirror, checking your outfit and make up, when Pansy pops up next to you in the mirror and kisses you on the cheek. “You look fine, babe, stop stressing about. And lets! Get! Some! Guys!” You laugh wondering if she was really this hyped or she took a shot of something.

She holds your hand as she guides you through the dancing drunks to first get drinks, then dance with some of her friends and finally to the corner where the guys are drinking. When you arrive you notice they’re all focused around Theodore and George who are playing some sort of card game. “I know how to play cards Fred!” George complains as Fred keeps on muttering. You frown, but quickly notice a few galleons on the table. Oh now it makes sense. The next moment Fred and George are bickering and the Slytherins are celebrating. You laugh at their drunk enthusiasm, but suddenly all the laughter seems to go quiet as you lock eyes with him.

Mattheo

When your eyes meet a genuine smile spreads on his face, before he suppresses it and forces his lips into a line. The sparkle in his eyes remains and the corners of his mouth still tug at a smile as he takes a few steps towards you. You look up at him. “Hey, there. Lucky night?” You ask pointing to the table with scattered cards on. His arm snakes around you and he pulls you close. “You have no idea.” You can smell the alcohol, but aren’t bothered by it as you’re too busy enjoying being in his arms and pressed up against his chest. "Let's dance.” He doesn’t wait for an answer and moves you a little further from his friend group to somewhere where there’s enough space to spin you around. You laugh at how playful and drunk he is. Neither of you are bothered by the looks you’re getting.

It was like lightning hit you. He spins you around and immediately pulls you back into him, a little rougher than before. You stumble a bit, but he holds you tightly against him, safe, where you should be. You have no idea what goes through his mind as he looks at you with intense eyes, but it was all you in his head. With one arm around you, his free hand reaches for your face and holds you as he kisses you like no one was in the room. You hesitate for a moment before kissing back and you’re pretty sure you hear Theo and Enzo cheer.

When you break the kiss in need of air, Mattheo slings his arm around your neck and pulls you close to give you a kiss on the cheek. You’re convinced you’re blushing like crazy at this moment, but with Mattheo’s arm around you, you feel safe. All too soon Mattheo is pulled away by his friends to join in some ridiculous drinking game.

When it gets late, or rather early, you and Pansy say your goodbyes and you get one last sloppy kiss from Mattheo, but he’s quick to turn back to drinking. You can’t help but wonder if that kiss actually meant anything.

Theodore

Theo walks over to you grinning and you meet his glinstering eyes. “Remind me to never play games with you.” I say, referring to his ice cold victory and he just smugly raises his eyebrows. His arms reach around you pulling you close to him and his lips move to your ear. “Let's join the crowd and dance.” He pulls away a little to see your expression and you can smell a combination of cigarettes and firewhiskey, but the most intoxicating thing about him are his eyes, which seem to drown in yours. You give a small nod in agreement and he walks you to the center of the room. He never lets go of you and now that you’re surrounded by dancing people he pulls you even closer. You can barely wrap your mind around what’s happening, so you decide to let yourself be guided by Theo’s warmth.

You don’t hide your gaze and just adore Theodore as he sings along with the music in a playful way while his intense eyes never leave yours. You should’ve seen it coming, but you didn't, it came out of nowhere. One moment he was resting his head against yours and the next his lips were roughly moving over yours and biting at your soft lips. It was a drunk kiss, but it felt so passionate that all doubt left your body and you kissed back with the same intensity and desire. When the kiss finally breaks Theodore pulls you close, squeezing you a little too hard, but you weren’t going to complain.

When he lets go of you, the first thing you notice is how you had forgotten about all the people around you, but they had seen it all. Eyes of jealousy and eyes of shock were all around you. With his arm still around you, he guides you back to Pansy and his friends. With a butsqueeze he says his goodbye to you and joins his friends in another game. You’re left baffled at what just happened and join Pansy on the couch. When you announce you’re leaving all you get is a cheeky wink which has you questioning if the kiss meant anything at all.

III. The heartbreak

The next morning you quickly figured out how this was gonna go. All of Hogwarts was talking about your kiss, except for him. As much as it meant to you, you were forced to downplay it. Luna spent her entire day checking on you, worried you would break at the smallest inconvenience. “Drunk people kiss at parties.” You told Ginny. “It probably meant nothing and that’s cool.” You tried to sound as nonchalant as possible but failed miserably.

However, as bad as it sounded when you were forced to say it, it was worse to hear him say it. You spotted him a little further down the hallway.

“I was drunk and she was just there.” I was… convenient?

”She’s been simping since forever, it was just an easy play.” Simping? Easy play?

You turn around, heartbroken. You had a crush on the biggest ass ever.

However, you miss a vital part of the conversation.

Mattheo

Pansy rolls her eyes. “Sure, Matt. You’re definitely not falling for her at all.” She turns on her heels annoyed with his pathetic tough act. Mattheo frowns and turns to Theodore and Enzo. “I don’t have a thing for (y/n).” Lorenzo can’t hide his smile and Theo is grinning at his pack of cigarettes. When Theodore meets Mattheo’s annoyed eyes his face turns a bit more serious. “If you want us to believe that you’re gonna have to stop the staring.” Enzo nods and adds: “And you’ll have to stop asking her for help with assignments we know you’ve already finished.” Mattheo clenches his jaw and snatches Theo’s cigarettes, before pushing them aside and walking away. “Whatever.” He mutters and Theo and Enzo can’t help but grin at their friend in denial.

Theodore

“Yeah, she’s a simp, but you like it.” Mattheo sings the last bit with humor and Theodore rolls his eyes. “It’s pathetic.” Theo argues with annoyance in his voice, but Mattheo just grins. “Isn’t that how we like our girls?” This makes Theodore’s eyes go a little darker, whether the statement was true or not Theo didn’t like Mattheo’s outspokenness about it and reaches for his cigarettes. “Last night’s kiss clearly meant something.” Blaise’s serious voice makes Theo roll his eyes again. It was conversations like these that made him smoke as much as he did. “No. It didn’t.” Draco’s grinning gets even worse and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “Then explain why you need her to help you with potions? Were you out of legitimate excuses to spend time with her?” Mattheo snickers. “Yeah, and what’s up with the staring?” Theodore pulls away his hand holding his pack of cigarettes so Mattheo fails to snatch it. “I don’t stare.” Theo’s voice warns them to stop teasing. When he walks away Blaise raises his eyebrows and Theodore growls when he hears his friends fall into a fit of laughter.

IV. The masterplan

Clearly upset you make your way to your common room intending on hiding in your dorm for the rest of the day. You try to keep yourself from crying as you speed walk through the hallways. You keep your head down to avoid making eye contact, but suddenly you’re forced to look up as some stumbles into you. Cedric Diggory. Walking backwards out of a classroom fully engaged in a conversation and laughing he had walked into you. “Oh by Helga, I’m so sorry.” He immediately apologizes and reaches for your arms to keep you steady as you take a few steps back. When he realizes it’s you, a happy smile tugs on his lips. Even though he was older, Cedric and you had been good friends since first year. You were constantly lost, but leave it to the handsome and sweet hufflepuff to help out first years. You try to force a smile in return, but it turns into something awful and Cedric cheerfulness ebbs away as worry makes his brows knit together.

“Dudes, I’ll meet up with you later.” He tells his friends and swings his arm around your shoulder. “Talk to me, (little puff/ dearest raven/ sweet slytherin/ brave lion).” You try to push him away. “Uhm nothing, I’m just on my way to my dorm. A headache, you know.�� You make up the lie on the spot and point to your head, but Cedric isn’t having any of it and pulls you closer. “Sure, but who’s the cause of your headache? Snape? That annoying prefect we talked about last time?” You don’t know how, but he manages to make you laugh. You remember how you’ve always confided in him and not once had he broken your trust. So when you’re in an empty hallway you decide to fess up about your crush, the kiss and what you had heard him say.

Cedric stares at you and you can’t figure out what exactly he’s thinking until he finally speaks up. “I’m not one to throw punches, but excuse me for a moment.” He says and turns around, but you grab his arm and pull him back. “No. It won’t do any good. Plus you’ll get hurt, I don’t want that.” He huffs. “I could take him.” You try to hide your smile as he flexes his arms. “Okay, maybe not a fight, but he has to pay in some way. I mean does he not realize what an amazing person he’s missing out on.” Your eyes glinster as you watch him. Yeah, why couldn’t that idiot see me?! Suddenly something in you clicks and you look Cedric up and down, before pursing your lips with mischief in your eyes. The hufflepuff in front of you frowns as he sees trouble. “You want to help me make him realize he’s an idiot.” Cedric nods, slightly wary of what you’re planning. “Want to be my fake boyfriend?” A cheeky smile tugs on his lips. “I thought you would never ask.” He jokes, but he quickly turns serious. “He is so going to regret taking you for granted.”

V. He fell harder

The plan was simple: hold hands, snuggle, spend a ridiculous amount of time together and simply act like Cedric was the only guy at Hogwarts. Meanwhile Cedric was being a perfect fake boyfriend, he walked you to your classes and held your books. You spent every meal together, sitting uncomfortably close to each other. When no one was around you would spend your time laughing at your own behavior.

But as much fun as you were having pretending to be over your crush, he was far from having a good time. An intense feeling of jealousy settled in his stomach and made his heart ache in a way that turned his eyes lifeless.

Mattheo

Theodore gave Mattheo a soft elbow so he would stop staring at the Hufflepuff table, but he didn’t budge. Mattheo was too busy hurting himself by watching Cedric’s arm hang over your shoulder. When Theodore again shoves his elbow in Mattheo’s direction he looks at Theo with a troubled look. “That’s toxic behavior right. It’s like he owns her or something.” Pansy immediately snickers at Mattheo’s words, making him turn towards her with a scowl on his face. “If you were truly a good friend you would do something about it.” Pansy raises eyebrows at Mattheo's argument. “I love it when karma’s a bitch.” Pansy says looking away from Mattheo with a content smile, not getting involved with his jealous act.

Mattheo ignores Pansy, not ready to admit that maybe he was in the wrong by assuming you would wait for him forever. He looks back over to you and instantly regrets it as he now has to watch Cedric whisper something in your ear that makes you laugh so beautifully that Mattheo feels his heart being ripped from his chest. “Stop looking.” Blaise says when he sees Mattheo’s face fill with pain. “I don’t get girls. Two days ago she was still simping over me like a lost puppy and now it’s Cedric.” No one really wants to respond to Mattheo’s statement, since how Mattheo had treated you wasn’t fair but at the same time they knew he just needed a little more time to come to terms with his feelings. Enzo turns around to look at you and Cedric. “Honestly, it’s not that surprising, they’ve been hanging out since first year. Guess he just finally made a move.” Theodore stares at Enzo for being this blunt about the situation. Mattheo looks at Lorenzo with an unreadable expression, before looking at his plate. “Good for him.” He eventually mutters. After two more bites he gets up and leaves the great hall, you watch him from your cozy spot next to Cedric and you can’t help but miss Mattheo despite how much he had hurt you.

Theodore

He entered the great hall and immediately his eyes rolled at the sight of you next to Cedric. He joins his friends at the slytherin table without taking his eyes off of you. “That’s just inappropriate. She’s basically on top of him.” Enzo turns like the obvious person he is and looks back at Theo, grinning like an idiot while Theo is far from pleased. “They look cute together.” Mattheo’s wide eyes shoot up at Enzo, before he looks at his heartbroken friend. “Yeah. Sure.” Theodore mumbles and finally looks away. “There’s other girls, mate.” Mattheo says before patting Theo on the back. This for some reason hurts even more, Theodore hates the idea of moving on from you. “I don’t get it. Why is she suddenly into him? It makes no sense. She was into me. I mean it was obvious, right?” Enzo raises his eyebrows at Theo’s agitated voice, but before anyone can say anything he continues. “Like, why would she go for that?” His eyes move back to Cedric whispering something, apparently hilarious, into your ear making you giggle.

Theodore grits his teeth. You were so pretty with that slight blush on your face. He used to get to see that every time he talked to you and he loved it. He loved you and now that he had finally realized that you were in some other guy's arms. Pansy’s snickering pulls Theodore away from you, but he avoids her and looks straight back at his plate. “Did you seriously expect her to wait for you forever? Gods, you men are so simple.” Blaise turns to Pansy. “Can you be any more insensitive?” Pansy shrugs. “Like he was when he let her run after him for almost a year.” Suddenly there’s a loud clattering noise as Theodore throws his fork onto his plate and gets up. All the guys judge Pansy, but she couldn’t care less.

With Cedric’s arm around your shoulder, you watch Theodore speed walk out of the great hall. You can’t help but chew your lip wondering if you’re on his mind at all.

VI. You played the game too well

The week went by and you hadn’t talked to him once. Only one or two stolen glances. However, you expected everything to change at tonight’s party.

“Definitely jealous.” Cedric says as you meet his eyes in the mirror. “Really?” You ask, unable to hide your childlike joy. “Yeah, trust me. The staring is so obvious. It’s almost embarrassing.” You chew your lip at the idea that your crush is actually interested in you. “Which is kinda why I think you should talk to him.” Your eyebrows knit together at the Hufflepuff’s words. “Why? He accused me of simping. He should apologize to me.” You turn around to face your fake boyfriend who sat on your bed smiling. “Yeah and I think he should, but I fear you might be expecting too much of a slytherin with issues.” You look at him a little confused and he sighs. “Look (y/n), you’re clearly still into the guy which I don’t think is your best move, but I won’t judge….” You frown. “That’s judging.” Cedric tilts his head in an apologetic way and continues his argument. “The thing is I don’t know if he’s going to start begging…” Your eyes are focussed on Cedric since you clearly haven’t caught on and Cedric tries to explain it as simply as possible. “I fear he might just act out like a toddler that just has his candy taken away. We’re playing this game really well and as confident as he pretends to be I think he won’t reach out if he thinks you’ve forgotten about him.”

Cedric left to get changed for tonight’s party and you continue to get ready as well. You mind dwelled on Cedric’s words. Part of you wanted to reach out and talk, but you also didn’t want to prove how much of a simp you really were for him. He might not be jealous at all and then I would just make a fool of myself. He should come to me… and he will… tonight. With determination you stared yourself down in the mirror. Tonight he would simp for you.

You jump to the music with Cedric and Luna by your side. You’re having a great time, but still your eyes darted around the room. It was past midnight and you hadn’t seen your idiot of a crush yet.

However, his eyes had been on you all night.

Mattheo

Leaning against a wall with a drink in his hand he watches you be pretty and have fun. It was gut wrenching to see you with someone else. He cursed himself and down his drink. When he moves to place his empty cup on a table a very flirty and drunk girl approaches him. With one dance move she wraps his arm around her own body. For a moment Mattheo’s eyes scan over the girl’s body moving against his, but then his mind goes back to you and he searches for your beautiful figure in the crowd.

To his surprise you’re looking at him. His heart starts pounding now that your eyes are on him. But then he notices you’ve stopped moving. He’s not sure, but it looks as if all joy had been drained from your figure. The girl in Mattheo’s arms whispers something in his ear, but he doesn’t even proces her words as he watches you look away from him.

When he sees Cedric look over to him and say something to you he gently pushes the girl in his arms away. The next moment you push Cedric away and move towards the exit, Mattheo desperately tries to follow you. You were clearly upset about something and he just knew he needed to be with you. His heart started racing even more, he hadn’t talked to you in a week and he was unsure what he would say or do if he caught up to you.

He had pushed everyone aside and was only seconds behind you, but when he finally got to the hallway you were nowhere to be seen. His worried eyes darted around until he heard soft sobs and knew by the aching of his heart it was you.

You were standing just behind a corner, in a dark hallway, trying to keep yourself quiet so as to not draw any attention. Your mind was still in the moment where Mattheo was looking at the girl in his arms. The kiss you two had shared was just out of convenience, he wasn’t jealous, quite to the contrary he was over you… if he was ever interested at all. You want to let your body slide down the wall since your sadness is making your legs tremble, but suddenly Mattheo’s hand reaches for your side keeping you steady. Your eyes scan him up and down, not willing to believe it’s actually him. “What happened? Did Cedric do something?” You immediately shake your head, but it takes a while for you to answer as your throat still feels dry. “No.” Your voice is shaky and Mattheo’s thumb caresses your cheek wiping a few tears away.

It’s this gesture that pisses you off. “Go back to that slutty thing.” You snap and push away his hand. He’s shocked by your reaction, but after a second of confusion his eyebrows knit together. “Is that what this is about?” There’s a hint of frustration in his voice. You grit your teeth annoyed with your own jealousy. Frustration boils up, this was not how it was supposed to play out. He was supposed to be jealous. “You said I was an easy play. You don’t just kiss people for the fun of it, Mattheo. I wasn’t simping over you. You hurt me.” Your rant doesn’t make a lot of sense to Mattheo, but those last words trigger something.

“I hurt you? You left me out of nowhere and just… just forgot about me… suddenly you’re all over Cedric. Watching you in his arms, hurt me, every god damn day, (y/n)!” He is so close to your face, it’s intimidating, but you don’t back down. “Good. Now you know to never take me for granted.” Your words are stern and calm him down in a way, so he can now finally connect the dots. His breath is still unsteady, but his eyes have calmed down. “You and Cedric aren't actually dating?” Your heart is still racing, but your anger has subsided. “No.” You whisper. “I really thought you were.” There’s a sadness in his voice that makes you feel a little guilty, but he doesn’t allow you to think about it because the next moment his lips crash onto yours.

The kiss is harsh, almost punishing, but you still desperately embrace it. Your hands make their way up to his neck and hair while he pushes himself into you, earning a soft whimper from you. You had been longing for this for so long, this was the real thing, this was Mattheo’s raw love. “Don’t ever play games like this with me again.” He warns, voice husky and dark, before kissing you with even more lust than before.

Theodore

Seated with his drunk friends Theodore stared at you, like he had been doing for the entire night, only looking away to reach for his drink on the table in front of him. He had barely even gone out to smoke, it was confusing how he continued to torture himself by watching you be happy dancing with some other guy. Theo reached for his drink, when suddenly a very tipsy girl slipped her hand on his leg and settles next to him on the couch. “Theoooo.” She sang as her other hand snaked to the back of his head playing with a few strands of his hair. Theodore stares her down before rolling his eyes and returning his gaze back to you.

It felt like the air in the room was being sucked away as your eyes looked directly at him. He was happy to know you still knew he existed, but it only lasted for a moment. You look almost disgusted with him and immediately turn away from him, making Theodore frown. The next thing confuses Theo even more as he watches you shake your head at Cedric and head for the door. Something was wrong and he just needed to be with you, he felt drawn to you and quickly made his way through the crowd.

When you’re finally outside you can no longer hold back tears. Theodore wasn’t jealous and he wasn’t going to be begging for you tonight. Your plan failed and now you were even further away from him than ever. Sobbing you speed walk to get as far away as possible, but you don’t get very far. His large warm hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you into his tall body. “What happened?” A worried Theo meets your eyes and his free hand snakes up to your face, cupping your cheek.

”You!” You snap and take a step back. “You said I was a simp, I was easy.” Theodore is baffled at your angered voice and the tears that continue to stream down. “You should’ve never taken advantage of me and kissed me.” Theo frowns. “I-I didn’t mean to-” He can’t think of anything to say. He did say those things and maybe he did take advantage of you, but he never meant to because he truly cared about you. He loved you. His silence makes you sob even louder. “And then you just jump the first girl that approaches you. Do I mean nothing to you?” At your question Theodore grits his teeth. “You mean the world to me, but you were suddenly off with Cedric like I didn’t exist. What was I supposed to do?” His eyes are filled with anger and desperation, making you look down at your feet. It’s your sudden silence that makes Theo suspicious. “Don’t tell me you started dating him to get me jealous?” You wisely decide to keep staring at your feet, avoiding his piercing gaze.

He grabs your chin, demanding an answer. “We’re not actually dating. I just wanted you to see me.” Theodore looks away from you as a mix of emotions surges through him. No words can explain how angry and in love he is with you, so after a nasty curse in Italian he pushes you against the wall and slams his body against yours. His kiss is intense and leaves you without air. He rests his head against yours. “Let tonight be a reminder to never play games with me again.”

VII. Smut! bonus: exactly how I like you

Mattheo

You ignoring Mattheo for a week had gotten him more hot and bothered than you realized, but now that he finally had you alone in his room you were gonna find out. He knew you wanted him, so there was really no need for him to be polite about it. He shuts the door behind him and breaks the sloppy kiss to forcefully turn you around, pushing you against a wall. “I want you naked and underneath me.” He whispers in your ear as he unzips your dress. He kisses your shoulders as he lowers your dress until it slips down your perfect figure. His already hard dick pushes against your ass through the fabric of his pants, while he squeezes your breasts through your bra. A whiny moan escapes you as you feel your panties soak, earning you an animalistic growl from deep down his throat. “This is what you’ve wanted for so long, isn’t it? Me having my way with you?” You nod and a sloppy sound of agreement leaves your lips. You can feel Mattheo’s smirk against your skin, but he immediately goes back to focusing on your body, taking off your bra and turning you around so your perked nipples are faced towards him.

Slowly his hands caress your boobs, his mouth hangs open in admiration of your beauty. “You belong to me.” He squeezes your breast and presses his lips against yours. “I belong-” With one hand playing with your nipple he earns a moan from you and presses his smirking lips against your temple waiting for you to finish your sentence. “to you.” You breathe out so beautifully it makes his dick twitch in his pants. “Damn, you need to be fucked so desperately?” You nod and his hand slips to your drenched panties, making you whimper in embarrassment as a filthy smile appears on his face. “Fuck, princess, I love you so much, you’re so desperate for me.” You hear the hunger in his voice and softly buck your hips as he inserts a finger. You cling to his shoulders as the movement of his fingers makes your knees go weak. You cry his name as circles your clit, wanting more of your needy whiny moans.

“Please, Mattheo, fuck me.” You beg as your moans turn into whimpers. His smug smile stays in place as he watches you. “No. You’re going to cum for me.” He demands and curls his fingers in a way that has you instantly climax. While you’re still feeling all the sensations of your orgasm rush through your body, Mattheo picks you up and walks you to his bed. He slips off your panties and just watches your wet cunt as he uncaps his belt and reaches for his hard thobbing cock. You moan at the beautiful sight of Mattheo jerking between your legs. You’ve wanted this exact thing for so long and happily spread your legs a little wider, making him smirk. “I love a good girl.” He whispers darkly as he crawls onto the bed and lines himself up with your entrance. “You are going to take me so well.”

At a slow pace he works himself into your pussy, making sure to stretch you without hurting you. “You’re deep.” You whine at his size fully inside of you. He leans down and kisses you, before moving his lips to your ear. “Yeah, but I’m also fully inside, which means I’m yours.” His hoarse voice has you throw your head back, giving him the signal to start pounding into your desperate cunt. There isn’t much mercy in Mattheo as he grabs your thighs and slams his dick into you again and again and again… As you feel your second orgasm approach you arch your back and he selfishly chases his own high, knowing that you’ll come any moment. As he fills you up with his seed he can’t help but think about how much of a simp you are for him: exactly how I like you.

Theodore

“Let tonight be a reminder to never play games with me again.” Well, you surely were never going to forget tonight and you already knew that when Theo dragged you to a nearby classroom. In between sloppy kisses he had reached for your hand and guided it to his pants, where you eagerly started to pump his dick. When your hand was soaked with his precum he unzipped his pants. “You want me?” You nod, feeling your pussy get wet at the idea. Pleased with your answer, his mouth is back onto yours. “Then get on your knees.” He demands pulling out his hard member. With your mouth already hanging open you lower to your knees. Theodore smirks at the view of your desperate mouth. “I love how compliant you are.”

You struggle to take him whole, but you want to so badly and Theo grips your hair. “Slowly love, give yourself some time.” You take his advice and let him guide his dick in your mouth, fucking in slowly but steadily. “Merlin, you're beautiful on your knees for me.” He moans as you keep your eyes on him. Your eyes get teary as he gets slightly rougher, but his strokes your hair reassuring you. “If you continue to take me this well, I’ll eat that needy pussy of yours.” You almost roll your eyes at his words making a mess of your panties. Only moments later his seed fills your mouth, you struggle to swallow but do so non the less and that view alone almost gets him hard again.

Still panting himself he pulls you up and works down your panties. Your hands grip the desk behind you and for a moment you worry which classroom you’re actually in, making you yelp in pleasure as his mouth digs in on your soaking cunt. You cry his name over and over again as his tongue fucks your pussy, making your legs give in a little but luckily Theodore takes a firm hold of your thighs and keeps you in place. Feeling supported by his strong arms one hand lets go of the desk behind you and settles in Theo’s hair. “I want you, Theo. Please, it’s okay, just fuck me already.” You beg, but it only makes him force his face deeper in between your legs, making your stomach twist just before coming on his tongue. “Now I’ll fuck you.” You hear his husky voice from between your legs and your eyes roll back.

His cock was hard again and he was harsher than before as he turned you around and bent you over the desk you had just held onto. With one brute tugg he pulls your bra and dress down so your breasts are exposed to the cold air. With one hand playing with a boob his other is free to guide his dick inside of you. You cry out his name as he picks up the pace rather quickly. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asks and you can imagine the smug smile on his lips. When you don’t immediately answer he starts pounding into you even harder. “Yes. Yes this is what I wanted.” You whimper as your face gets teary. Finally having what you wanted from him felt better than you had ever imagined. Your desperation and Theo’s powerful thrusts had your clit thobbing in seconds and your walls clenched around his cock as you came for a second time that night. Tightly holding onto your breasts Theodore watched his dick slide in and out of you, overstimulating your pussy, until he came for a second time as well. Gods, this was exactly how he liked you: simping for him and filled up with his seed.

Picture source: https://pin.it/6AnYUtD1c

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #papercorgiworldwritings

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hispg · 1 year ago

Text

Just one more time

Pairings: Di! Leon x fem reader

Wc: 6.2k

Summary: Your ex husband want to have his family life again, he needs it.

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, mentions of alcoholism, exes to lovers(I guess).

Notes: this man have a choke hold on me, isn't even healthy anymore 😭😭

Today was another weekend like any other. Your youngest daughter was going to stay with her father, your ex-husband, Leon. He had already come to pick her up at your apartment and consequently took the little one to his house, as usual.

For now, you were getting ready cautiously, as you didn't have much free time, you decided that today you would go out with some friends, to relax and have fun, after all you needed it.

So you looked at yourself in the large bedroom mirror, admiring yourself in that tight red dress, which highlighted your curves in a gentle but incredibly sexy way. Your hair was tidy, loose, free in the wind, but with not a single strand out of place. Just as you took care of your make-up, you did it with all possible care, from eyeliner to lipstick, all the accessories you put on, which enhanced your beauty even more.

And there you were, admiring yourself in that mirror, turning around and around, it was just a hang out with your friends, of course, but it was the first time you'd given yourself a chance to go out since the end of your marriage to Leon, so it was an important night, to say the least.

Finally, you wore the cologne you always used, and the scent permeated the room and your clothes, sweet and warm, just like you.

One last look, and you were ready. Beautiful, stunning, as usual.

And then you heard a 'ding dong', at this point, you thought it was one of your friends, who had arrived earlier to pick you up? Maybe.

You leave your room and go to the door, but your expectation that it was one of your friends ends at the same moment that you hear a child's cry, which was all too familiar.

As soon as you open the door, you find Leon, staring at you a little blankly as he comforts the little girl, your daughter, who is crying inconsolably in his arms.

"Oh... I'm sorry... I know it was my weekend with her. But ever since I took her, she hasn't stopped crying. She wants to be with you." Leon says, his voice calm and low, as he rocks the little one gently, murmuring sweet words to calm her down.

"No problem, come in." You offer, and he accepts without a second thought.

You quickly closed the door and turned your attention to the little girl, who was sobbing in Leon's arms.

"Princess, do you want to come into Mommy's arms?" You ask the little girl gently while stroking her brown hair.

The little girl nodded eagerly, raising her little hands for you to take her from Leon's arms.

And so you did, cradling her in your arms, as if her life depended on it. Leon had a worried, even sad look on his face. He didn't need to say anything for you to understand that he felt bad that he hadn't managed to make things go back to the way they were before.

"I don't want to go with Daddy anymore." The little girl whispered, her sobs muffled by the fact that she was buried in your shoulders, crying harder than you expected.

The phrase made Leon's heart bleed, God, how bad it felt to hear it from his own daughter. The words came out slurred from the little girl's mouth, but deep down, that's how she really felt.

"My darling, you know that just as mommy loves you, Daddy loves you too, mh?" You tried to console the little girl by saying these beautiful words, which meant everything, because it was the purest truth.

Leon didn't need to say anything. You knew he was trying to hold back his tears at that moment. You didn't even need to look at him to know.

He hated to think that as well as losing you, he could lose his little girl. And he couldn't deal with that thought. It was too much for him.

He couldn't lose the two people he loved most in the world like that. No, it was too much for him to bear.

The little girl just replied with a simple 'mhm mhm', her sobs had subsided, and she seemed to be calmer now, even though she was still crying.

Leon sneaked up to her, gently stroking her little head, running his fingers through her hair, gently caressing her. He didn't dare speak. He just admired how calm the little girl was in her mother's arms, and he wondered if one day he could give her the same comfort. If he could be a safe haven for her, just as you were.

And he couldn't help but notice how much like you the little girl was, her face was exactly like yours, she had her father's blue eyes, she was beautiful like you, her dark hair was just like her father's. But still, Leon always saw that she was just like you. But even so, Leon always saw a little piece of you in her, and he thought that was one of the most beautiful things in his life.

He let himself hold her little hand and gently stroked it with his thumb. Although his gaze was fixed on the little one, from time to time, he looked at you.

"I want to sleep in your room, Mommy." The little girl whispered, her voice was shaky, but she seemed calmer.

"Of course, sweetheart." You said gently, smiling at her as you carried her in your arms.

Leon followed silently, following your every step all the way to your room, feeling a little more relieved that your daughter wasn't crying anymore, at least.

You reached your bedroom, where you gently laid the little one on the bed, wrapping her in the covers, making her very cozy.

You lay down next to her, propping yourself up with one of your elbows, your other hand stroking her hair. You signaled Leon to sit on the bed, which he did.

And there you were, comforting the little one until she fell asleep. And so it happened, ten or fifteen minutes later she fell asleep, and from the way she let out little snores from time to time, she wasn't going to wake up any time soon.

There was silence, nothing but the little one's breathing, along with the two of you.

A few minutes later, Leon clears his throat, plucking up the courage to speak.

"Can we talk?" He looks at you with those blue eyes that, behind their kindness, ooze genuine sadness.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" You ask softly, staring back at him.

He shook his head, running one hand through his hair, "No. Nothing's happened, I just want to talk to you. Can we?" You knew him too well, and you could tell for sure that although he wanted to appear confident, he was apprehensive.

"Sure, let's go to the kitchen. I can make us both some coffee." You give him a gentle smile, even though you already had some idea of where this conversation was going.

He nods, gets out of bed, and follows you into the kitchen. The walk was silent, nothing but your footsteps coming down the stairs, and consequently walking down the corridor to the kitchen.

Leon takes the liberty of sitting down at the table, smoothing his temple in an attempt to calm himself down a little.

"So, what do you want to talk about?" You ask nonchalantly, picking up the ingredients to make the coffee.

"Us. I want to talk about us." As expected of Leon, he didn't go round in circles. He said what he needed to, and that was that. And it would be no different now.

You look at him, not angrily, much less upset. But intrigued, did he still have feelings? Even after all these months?

You don't answer him. You just start preparing the coffee, and then he says it again, "I miss you. I still have feelings. I still love you." And he didn't expect you to answer him, let alone throw yourself into his embrace as if nothing had happened. He just wanted to open his heart to you.

He followed your figure with his gaze, admiring your silhouette in the kitchen, seeing how beautiful you were. How perfect you looked that night.

"That dress..." He murmured, looking you up and down once again.

You look at him with a little smile, looking at the dress too, "It was a present from you, you gave it to me for my birthday, remember?"

He nods with a slight smile, as if he has a pleasant memory about it.

"I remember you loved it when you saw it. You looked like a little child when you saw it in the vitrine." He says with amusement in his voice.

You can't help but giggle, "And when it was later that day, you arrived with the dress. I remember that night so well."

And he smiled, a genuine smile this time, "Me too, your joy is one of the most striking things in my memory."

You smiled back as you poured the coffee into the mugs, carefully carrying them to the table where he stood.

"Thanks." He murmurs, holding the mug in his hands.

You nodded, sitting down next to him and taking a sip of coffee.

And you stopped to notice him, his neat hair, the perfume he always wore. His shirt, along with his jacket and baggy pants. As always, he didn't stop being handsome for a single second.

Plus, you couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his eyes and the slightly tired expression he had.

Your eyes wander to a small cut on his face, and you ask, "Another mission?"

He nods silently, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Do you think... we could try again?" He asks gently, but without looking at you.

You sigh, running your hands through your hair, before saying, "I don't know Leon... Things are complicated between us. Your work, your problems with alcohol. And it's just... complicated..."

He looks at you, those blue eyes that take your breath away every time that you could spend all day looking into.

"I know... I know I screwed everything up..." He admits between sighs.

You put your hand over his in a gesture of affection.

His eyes lit up, and he smiled.

"You know... I've been trying to change... I'm slowly cutting down on alcohol. Really... besides, I've been taking a break from work." And he seemed sincere. You had no reason to doubt him.

"That's good. That's great for you." A real smile appeared on your face, even though you had heard this phrase a few times before.

"I feel lonely without you." He finally says, sensitive words coming out in a whisper.

And in fact, it wasn't a lie. It was a reality. He said it from the bottom of his soul, from the bottom of his heart. You were his rock, the person he could share all the secrets, all the missions, all the shit that happened in his life. A confidant, who he could tell everything, and he wouldn't be judged. On the contrary, you would welcome him into your embrace, caressing him and advising him. Doing your best to make him feel safe, secure, so that finally, if only for a brief moment, he could just be Leon.

Without having to be the cool, cold, strategizing agent, no, with you, he was just Leon, and he just loved that.

He could be himself. He felt like that young man before things happened in Raccoon City, a normal man, with the woman he loved and the fruit of their love, a beautiful little girl.

With you, he felt free, to cry, to smile, to complain. For everything, he didn't have to fear, because you were a joy to him, you were what kept him sane every time he came home from those damn missions, every time he woke up in the morning, he couldn't wait to see your face beside him. Just to see you, sleeping like an angel next to him.

And you knew all this. You knew how lonely he felt, how closed off he could become. But you always found a way, a way for him to open up to you and trust you even more.

"I know... I know..." Was the only thing you could say because you also felt bad about the situation. How could you not? You had been hurt just as much as he had in this relationship.

"I know I made a mistake, I know. And I blame myself every day for it, but I wanted a chance. We can try, we can be a family again." This time, he intertwined his fingers with yours, holding your hand tightly.

You find yourself staring at the now empty coffee mug. The gentle rain was falling outside, and from time to time, you could hear the drops falling on the window.

For some reason, this comfortable climate reminded you of when the two of you would lie on the sofa and watch a movie cuddling. As if nothing else mattered. And you missed it so much now.

You face him, plucking up the courage to say, "What if it's all the same? What if our relationship ends the same way?"

They were fair questions. After all, despite being a man of his word, Leon might not keep his word. At the end of the day, he was a human being like any other, and he could make mistakes just the same.

He was quick to squeeze your hand and gently planted a kiss on your palm, "I swear, I promise you it will be different. I've changed, I'm trying my best to be a good father to our daughter. Just as if you let me, I want to be a better husband."

And that was enough to make your heart skip beats. You wanted to throw yourself into his arms, hug him, kiss him madly, as if nothing else mattered.

But your mind said no, but your heart screamed and cried out for him. How could you ignore him? He was the man you loved, right there, willing to try again.

"Leon... I don't know... it's not that I don't trust you, I just... get apprehensive, you know?" And you were being honest, but you still didn't have the courage to face him. And once again, you find yourself staring at the empty mug, looking for any other distraction.

"I know, I'm not asking you to forgive me now. You can take as long as you like, but all I'm asking is that you think. I want another chance, just this once." His voice was clear, full of affection.

And again, your body betrays you. You surrender to his words, an almost indiscreet smile appears on your face, God, you wanted him so much. Just as he wanted you.

There's no explanation, you're made for each other, you're soul mates, there's no other reason.

Those blue eyes, scanning you, looking for any sign, any little sign.

And as a way of trying to lighten the mood, you took your mug and his and washed them.

And for a moment, his eyes grew sad. He didn't want to let go of your hand, let alone have you move away from him.

He sighed audibly, leaning back a little more in his chair. His eyes didn't stop following you for a single minute.

A few minutes after washing the mugs, you lean against the sink, cross your arms, and look at Leon with a discreet smile. You're trying to find the right words to say to him.

"You can..." You stop talking mid-sentence, your eyes roaming around the kitchen nervously.

And that was more than enough to catch his attention, who approached you, standing in front of you.

"What? Do you want to tell me something?" Leon asks, with a clear tone of curiosity in his voice.

You smiled a little shyly, feeling like a silly young girl at the moment, "Can you sleep here?"

And that seemed to take him by surprise, but not in a bad way. It didn't take long for a broad smile to appear on his face, as if you had just given him news that would brighten his night, and indeed it would.

"Sure, sure, whatever you say." He gently takes both your hands, caresses them, and plants a kiss on each.

You giggled, letting yourself be carried away by the moment. Meanwhile, the rain was getting worse outside, and the weather was getting a little worse outside, but that only made it more comfortable inside your house.

"So... shall I take you to your room? It's getting late." Leon tells you, but you both know it's just another excuse for you to cuddle and spend at least one night together.

"Yes... we can go there." You take his hand, gently guiding him to your room.

However, he stops you, soon carrying you in his arms. Carrying you in a bridal style.

"Leon... you don't have to..." You whispered, but it was clear that you loved being cuddled like this in his arms.

"I want to, please. I want to feel you in my arms." And he gave you a light kiss on the forehead, snuggling you even closer into his arms.

And you never ceased to be impressed by him, the way he carried you so easily, even when you were pregnant, he carried you as if you were just a feather.

And to be honest, he loved it, loved how lovely you felt in his arms, how safe he made you feel.

After a while, you both arrive in the bedroom, only to see your daughter sleeping peacefully in your bed. She looked like a little angel.

"I'm taking her to her room." Leon whispers to you as he gently sets you down.

And soon he too carried the little girl up to her room, not taking long to return. And as soon as he walked back into your room and saw your figure sitting on the bed, looking at him with that adorable smile, he couldn't help but let a sly grin escape.

In the blink of an eye, there he was, embracing you as he gently laid you down on the bed, holding you tightly in his arms.

"You have no idea how much I miss you..." A muffled voice comes from Leon's lips as he rests his head on your chest.

And you start playing with his hair, stroking it from time to time.

"I know... I miss you too, Lee..." And his heart fluttered when you called him that, the nickname you gave him yourself, and he loved it every time you called him that.

He squeezed you tighter, grabbing your waist and pulling you to him. Not in a rough way, but strong enough to hold you in place. And on that cold night, you felt that your bed was warm, and more than that, it was cozy, inviting. And that's just because Leon was there, that's all. He had that effect, that effect on you, if the two of you were together, even the worst of situations became tolerable.

"You don't know how self-controlled I am. All I want to do is kiss you, you're stunning tonight." And you could feel his fingers moving gently on your hips, making little circles.

You giggled again, "I think I can imagine."

He smiled along with you, starting to kiss and nibble your neck affectionately, without rushing, just doing it passionately.

You let out a heavy breath, clinging tighter to him. At this point, your heart was pounding. You felt like a teenager again, feeling silly and youthful.

And in an even gentle way, he began to caress your thighs, giving them light squeezes.

While he was still kissing and nibbling on your neck, which gradually became more intense.

"That's good, Lee..." You let out a slight gasp, which was basically music to his ears.

"I know, babe. I know." His teeth drag across your skin, a sensation that could easily give you goosebumps.

His hand went under your dress, giving him the opportunity to caress your bare skin, which made him even more aroused.

And you let a soft moan escape from your lips, as soon as you felt his warm hands touch your thighs. And you realized how much you missed him, how much you missed his touch and his love, and of course, so did he.

And slowly, he began to move upwards with his mouth, going all over your neck until he reached your jaw, leaving a trail of kisses. Soon, he was on your cheeks, and finally, pressing a hot, passionate kiss to your lips.

The way you two kissed, while romantic, could be considered thirsty because you wasted no time in sliding your tongues into each other's mouths, deepening the kiss quickly. As if the two of you couldn't wait another second.

"Fuck... I've missed you so much." He says in a husky voice, his thumb rubbing your lower lip affectionately.

And frankly, the way you looked at him, the way your lips were parted and you were gasping for breath, was enough to fill his body with lust.

And once again he captures your lips in a sensual kiss, now beginning to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass, pushing you even harder against him.

"Leon..." You moan into his lips, letting him squeeze and caress your body however he wants.

He gives you a little smile, biting your bottom lip in response.

"I'll make it worth your while, don't worry." He whispers, now he's playing with the flaps of your panties, gently caressing your soft skin.

And you took the liberty of sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling his strong, chiseled chest. Your fingers explored every corner, as if for the first time, and you could bet he was enjoying it, the way he let out sweet whispers against your lips.

And he broke away from you for a moment, only to remove his shirt and jacket, making you salivate at the privileged view of his chest.

"You know I love it when you look at me like that, don't you?" He teases, as he watches you bite your lower lip.

You sit on the bed, leaning on his waist as you kiss and lick his chest, just the way he loved it.

And you can see the lust shining in his eyes, a fervor that wouldn't cease any time soon. He put one hand in your hair, smoothing it while saying sweet words of encouragement, because more than anything he wanted you to continue.

And slowly you reached for his belt, and you could already see the bulge forming in his pants, and you used your fingers to caress the spot, eliciting a soft grunt from him.

And there you were again, giving him soft, gentle kisses over the bulge in his pants, just as a way of teasing him even more, and he seemed to be enjoying it, as his hips trembled from time to time.

And when you finally removed his belt and unbuttoned his pants, leaving him with just his boxers. He took a deep breath, in a way to contain himself, to regain his composure.

"No... no, darling." With a slight push, he lifts your face, making you look at him, you had a confused expression, then asked, "Don't you want to?"

He smiles and nods, "I want it more than anything, but tonight, tonight I'm going to pamper you. I'm going to pamper you from head to toe."

And with that he lays you back on the bed, standing over you and whispering sweet words, "Tonight I'm going to make my redemption. For making you feel alone in this marriage," he begins to kiss your cheeks, pressing your body against him.

"Tonight I'm going to show you how loved and adored you are by me, understand? I'm going to do what I should have done at our marriage."

And with that, he kissed your entire face, your cheeks, forehead, lips, nose, every corner of your face.

His hands danced all over your body, caressing and squeezing, massaging every tense spot on your body. He wanted you to be completely relaxed because he was going to take care of you tonight.

You just nodded, letting yourself be carried away by him, letting him take complete control of the situation because at the end of the day, you didn't give a damn. You needed it as much as he did.

He pulled your dress up to your waist, and you felt the cold air hit your bare skin, but it soon passed when you felt his big, warm hands on your thighs. Massaging each spot, kissing and nibbling lightly, and drawing moans from your lips.

"God... you're going to ruin me like this," You teased, looking at him with a playful smile.

But his naughty grin was the perfect response, "That's my intention, baby."

And a lovely sound falls from your mouth as his fingers barely touch your wet surface, and you can feel your soaked panties.

He kissed and nibbled your inner thighs, dragging his tongue there from time to time, keeping one hand on your hips, to steady you, and the other stroking your core over the cheap fabric of your panties.

Involuntarily, your hips began to move against his hand, desperately seeking more friction.

"My pretty girl, are you that wet? Just for a few touches, mh?" He teases, sliding your panties aside with one of his fingers, threatening to put it inside, the tip of his finger caressing your entrance.

"Mhmm..." You whimpered, looking at him with a sly face, almost begging him to continue.

And he giggled, sliding your panties down between your legs, taking them off and throwing them in a corner of the room.

And there was that vision of paradise in his eyes, your pussy wet, dripping, all because of him.

He just laughed again, shaking his head, "You know damn well I can't resist you." And without giving you a choice, he buried his head between your legs, holding you firmly by the hips, preventing you from squirming.

"Leon.. God." You moaned shyly, feeling him give you sloppy kisses all over your intimate area, sliding his tongue around the spot, making you even more excited.

"My baby is always so wet for me, always ready for me. You're a naughty girl, but I can't complain." He smiles, sliding his tongue into your center, almost starting to enter your entrance.

You gasp, your body arching at the delicious sensation of his hot muscle working on your needy cunt.

With his thumb he stroked your clit, making circular movements, calm and firm, he knew exactly where to touch you.

"Fuck... Leon..." You whined, putting one of your hands on his head, pushing him towards you.

He grunted, but didn't complain. On the contrary, he grabbed onto your legs and started fucking you with his tongue, without the slightest mercy.

"Holy shit, oh... oh..." You moaned audibly, thrusting your hips against his lips looking for more contact, as if that were possible.

You felt so close, head empty and heavy, body hot and bothered. You were close, but so close. And he didn't help either, he ate you like a caged animal that hadn't had a meal in months.

"Cum on my tongue, go on. Do it for me," and once again he planted lazy kisses on your intimate area, licking and kissing, not stopping to caress your clit for a second.

And to finish, he pinched lightly on your clit, dragging his tongue all over your pussy, which was enough for you to moan his name out loud, pushing him against you even more. Your thighs pressed against his head, and he loved it.

He loved it when you held him like this, giving him the opportunity to continue kissing you after orgasm.

"Oh...oh... God." You whispered, your lips parted as you breathed heavily, your body trembling and sweaty. The sensation was too good, impossible to regain consciousness that quickly.

"Good girl, you taste fucking good, you know that, don't you?" Leon says, licking his lips and wiping his fingers, licking slowly to feel the sweetness he loved so much.

You smile at him, still catching your breath from the intense orgasm. And before he did anything else, he finished taking off your dress, taking off your bra with it.

And now you were completely exposed to him, and you could see that gleam in his eye, an unusual hard-on, which he only felt for you. Only you.

Without wasting much time, he removes his boxers, and his member almost jumps out. Hard and ready, with a little of pre-cum running down the head of his dick.

"You're perfect, just perfect." He murmurs to you, looking your naked body up and down, masturbating at the sight.

"Be good to me and spread those beautiful legs, mh? Can you spread them for me, princess?" And as if it were an order you obeyed, spreading your legs and giving him the perfect angle.

"Yes, good girl." He pressed your knees together, directing them towards your chest, slowly fitting himself into you.

And it worked like magic. He positioned himself between your legs, stroking his member before putting it into you, little by little, centimeter by centimeter.

You both moaned as you felt him go all the way in, stretching your tight, velvety walls.

Soon, he was all the way in, leaning some of his weight on you, holding onto his elbows, while you wrapped your legs around his hips, preventing him from moving away.

"Fuck, I've already put a baby in you, and you're still this tight," He growled in your ear, starting to thrust harder.

And all you could do was mumble things here and there, most of which made no sense. You had no control over yourself at this point, you just wanted to surrender to him, and that's what you did.

Skin colliding with skin, you scratching his back as his name kept escaping your lips, and he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

And he'd leave you whimpering loudly as soon as he hit one of your sweet spots, the way he'd hit that spot, he knew all your weaknesses, when he could and couldn't touch, what it's like when to touch, he knew perfectly.

"What about these tits here?" He teases, while with one hand, he caresses and plays with your nipples. Stretching between his fingers, it was a little uncomfortable, but it was good in a way.

"Ohh..mhmm.." All you could say was as soon as he put his warm mouth on your right breast, and his hand caressed and massaged the left one.

His tongue curled around your nipple as he sucked on your breast like there was no tomorrow, and it was sure to leave a mark the next day.

All you could hear in that room was the moans of pleasure, the bodies crashing against each other.

And with a 'pop' noise, he removed his mouth from your breast. Smiling at you in a cheeky way, seeing how surrendered to him you were.

"You're close, aren't you? Why don't you act like a good girl and cum for me, Hm?" And God, those words could get you off the ground in a matter of seconds.

As a way of stimulating you further, he starts massaging your clit in circles, helping you reach your limit even more.

"Leon... ahhh. Leon." You moaned desperately, nails digging into his back, legs wrapped around him as a way of holding on even tighter. You can be sure that tomorrow those nail marks would be clearly visible on his back.

"Yeah, come on, fuck - if you keep squeezing me like that, I'm going to cum too." He grunted, grinding his hips into you.

He was losing himself more and more, your pussy squeezing him tighter and tighter, and you could feel his cock twitching in you, more and more.

"Mhm.. Leon, I'm gonna cum." You murmured, feeling your body go further with his touches.

As a quick response, he started thrusting even faster, his cock slamming into your deepest places, hitting your g-spot again and again.

And there you go, your head goes blank, your body writhes and you let out a loud moan, calling out his name. Your body arched sharply, crashing into Leon's chest. I don't even need to tell you what a mess you've made of his cock, your fluids making it even wetter.

All he did was give you a satisfied smile, crushing his lips against yours, giving you a hot, sloppy kiss.

And now he pressed your legs against your chest, putting you in a mating press. Smashing his cock into you, hard and deep, he was searching for his own limit. And it certainly wouldn't be long because of the way you held him, your warm, wet walls sucking him inside, like the most impure image in the world.

And with one final thrust he finished inside, letting moans and grunts of pleasure come from his lips. And there was the scene, he filled you with his cum, which was deep inside you. And it was a strangely good feeling, you felt full when it happened.

And as soon as he'd finished, he lay on top of you, crushing you with his weight, but he was still holding on so he wouldn't fall all over you.

And there you both were, covered in a thin layer of sweat, panting and bodies glued together, still connected in the most intimate way possible.

"I fucking love you. Do you hear me?" he whispers, looking at you with the gentlest, most adoring eyes.

You smile, a tired but satisfied smile, "I know, I love you too." Sincere and simple words that came out of you, but that left him in a state of ecstasy.

He was quick to bring your lips together in a passionate kiss, embracing you gently.

That's what he wanted to hear, he needed reassurance, reassurance that he could try again. That he could win you back again, and he wouldn't stop until that happened.

"I'm going to make you mine again, my sweet wife." He murmurs into your lips, full of affection and tenderness.

You giggle, running your hand through his dark hair. You knew how insistent he was, and that he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted.

And after a few more kisses, he lay down next to you, tired of holding his own weight. And then he took your left hand, where you wore your wedding ring, then grabbed your ring finger and played with it.

"I'm going to make you wear a wedding ring again, do you hear me? I'm going to make you marry me again, no matter what I have to do." He smiles gently, giving your palm a few kisses.

"I'll wait for that, Kennedy." You tease him in a playful way, pinching his cheeks.

And for a moment, he thought, and then began to speak, "You know, how about tomorrow we spend the day together? Me, you, and our daughter? We can watch some movies in the morning, and in the afternoon we can go for a walk in the park." He suggested excitedly, hoping that you would accept.

And you smiled so broadly that you couldn't hide it. You grabbed him in a tight hug.

"Of course, of course. It'll be great." You answered him just as excitedly.

And then he put your hair behind your ear, holding your face with both hands, then he began to talk in a more seductive way, "And in the night, we can go out for dinner. Just you and me, what do you think? I can call Claire, and she can stay with our daughter. And we'll both have the whole night to ourselves. Sounds good?" He knew you too well, and of course you wouldn't reject his proposal, not even if you wanted to.

You nodded eagerly, hugging him once more.

He smiled, returning the hug.

"Let's go to sleep. Tomorrow's going to be a great day." And he was going to make sure of it, you bet.

It wasn't long before the two of you were cuddling, getting lost in each other's caresses. The familiarity of being safe in your lover's arms made you fall asleep quickly, just as he fell asleep right after you. He couldn't ask for more. He was close to you, and he would try anything to make your relationship work this time, and he would make his promise count.

Because this time he was going to be the man you needed, the husband he should have been, he was going to do the right things this time. He was going to make you the happiest woman in the universe, just as you, just by being close to him, made him the happiest man in the world.

#leon kennedy #leon x reader #leon x you #leon smut #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon x y/n #leon scott kennedy #death island leon #di leon

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embrosegraves · 9 months ago

Text

𝕊𝕡𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕀𝕔𝕖 𝔸𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥

(request) Kimi Räikkönen x Fem!Reader Kimi only allowed one person to truly know him. You.

Warnings: a bit of cussing, poorly google translated Finnish, and extremely brief research of cities in Finland. Briefly edited.

Kimi famously never allowed his emotions to be on open display for the people around him. He never let people see behind his frosty facade. He never let people get close enough for them to figure him out. He always kept everyone at a distance so there was no possible way for anyone to truly know the type of man he was. Excluding his parents, there was only one exception to all of it.

You.

Kimi never intended to bump into anyone on his break between seasons. He had chosen Pori specifically because he knew that no one he worked with knew enough about Finland to know where Pori was. None of his colleagues knew that Pori was roughly a 3 hour drive north west of his home town. With a population of 83 thousand compared to Espoo’s 310 thousand, it wasn’t an extremely well known place.

Kimi supposed he shouldn’t’ve been so surprised when he bumped into you, causing your coffee to spill everywhere. But he couldn’t help it. He never would’ve expected to literally bump into someone he worked with.

“Katsu se!” You exclaimed. Too busy trying to wipe off the spilt coffee before it could stain your coat too badly. [Watch it!]

“L/n?”

Of course you knew who it was, how could you not? It wasn’t like you spent a majority of the year around him, battling it out every weekend for top spot on the podium.

“What Räikkönen? Didn’t expect to see me over break?” You finally looked up and made eye contact with the Finn.

“Why are you in Finland?”

“Am I not allowed to go home during winter break?” This had stunned Kimi more than bumping into you.

“Home?”

Your annoyance had disappeared a while ago, the whole situation was too amusing for you to be truly annoyed. “Räikkönen, just because I race under a different flag doesn’t mean I’m not associated with another country. I was born in Pori, spent 14 years here before moving overseas.”

After that the rest was history. You ended up spending more and more of your winter break around Kimi. So much time that the Finn found himself opening up more and more around you. At first he had been the same cold, closed off Kimi that you were used to, but soon enough his metaphorical ice walls began to melt around you. He learnt that your mother had been born in Finland and had met your father while on holiday. You told him that your father had moved to Finland to be with your mother and that you always spent winter break in Pori. You travelled so much for the rest of the year you found there was no point travelling between seasons.

Throughout your time together, Kimi found himself telling you things he had only ever told his parents. He told you how he had wanted to eventually settle down and start a family. He told you that he truly did believe that Formula 1 was a hobby, that it wasn’t just something he said for the cameras. He told you that sometimes, in the privacy of his own home, he often thought about his imaginary daughters running around and filling his house with giggles and bright smiles.

Eventually, the winter break would come to an end, and you would both have to go back to the rush of racing every weekend. About a week before preseason testing, you had been hanging out with Kimi in your living room. Talking about everything you had done so far in your careers. Kimi had smiled when you started to laugh at the story he had just finished telling.

Watching you laugh at something he said had him feeling almost giddy with nerves. He had never felt this way with a woman before. Not one to let an opportunity slip by, he spoke up softly.

“Y/n?”

“Yes Kimi?” You responded, trying your best to calm down from laughing.

“Let me take you on a date.”

“Kimi- what?”

“I want to take you on a date. These last months have let me understand that everything I want in life, I want them to be with you.” He said. Taking your hand in his, he spoke with a sincerity you had never seen or heard in a man before. “Let me take you on a date and show you.”

Your free hand had covered your mouth as he spoke. A month ago, when you realised what your own feelings for him were, you had become determined to never mention them. There was no way The Iceman of all people would feel the same about you. Yet here he was. Sitting on your couch and asking you to go on a date with him.

“Yes.”

Kimi gave you a smile that had become less and less rare the more you spent time with him.

“Thank you.”

It had been three years since then. In that time you had gone on dates in every country you had travelled to. You both celebrated every win and comforted every loss. Two years into dating, Kimi had asked you to move in and marry him and during the mid-year break, surrounded by both your immediate families, you had become Y/n Räikkönen. Kimi hadn’t cared about telling the other drivers or the media, and you had agreed saying that it would be far funnier if they found out on their own. So nothing had changed in your public routines. In your head you thought the funniest part of it all would be that no one on the grid knew you had even started dating each other.

Neither of you had gone out of your way to avoid the other, in fact the other drivers often saw you both hanging around each other. Nobody had any inkling that You and Kimi were together as more than friends. Many gossip sources chalked it up to the two “outcasts” of the grid hanging out and left it at that. So it was a surprise to everyone when some fans had pointed out on social media that your signature had changed from your race number and maiden name to Räikkönen.

Jensen and Fernando, being constantly online, had dragged Sebastian to immediately start searching for the Finn. What they had found was more surprising than your change of signature. Opening the door to Kimi’s drivers room, the three of them saw you sitting on the couch with Kimi lounging on your lap, asleep. You had one hand running through his hair as he slept while the other was scrolling on your phone. Looking up as the door opened, you smiled when you saw who it was.

“Hello boys. Anything I can help you with?” You asked. Fernando was too shocked to say anything and Jensen had just started stuttering out incoherent sounds, so it was up to Sebastian.

“There are fans saying that your signature has changed.”

You huffed a gentle laugh, trying not to disturb your husband from his rest. “That’s because it has.”

“But why?” Jensen had managed to get his English under control enough to start actually speaking.

“Why’d you think it would change Jense?” You were having too much fun with this.

“But you have never shown any interest in Kimi. And Kimi doesn’t show interest in anything, so when?” It was Fernando’s turn to get over his shock. “How long have you been married? Why did we not know?”

By now Kimi was definitely awake, though he made no show of it. You could feel Kimi’s hand that was resting between you and the couch back start to gently stroke your thigh. You knew he was also amused.

“I wasn’t aware I needed to tell you who I was interested in. If I’d known I would’ve told you three years ago.”

“Three years!?” The three of them cried.

Eyes still closed, Kimi mumbled to you. “Käske heitä naimaan. Nukun.” [Tell them to fuck off. I’m sleeping.]

“Luulen, että olet levännyt tarpeeksi, rakkaani.” You replied laughing. All Kimi did was groan. [I think you’ve rested enough, my love.]

“If you wake up properly, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Opening his eyes, Kimi briefly glanced at the three flabbergasted men still in his driver's room, before looking directly at you. “Teet kovaa kauppaa, vaimo.” [You drive a hard bargain, wife.]

He sat up nonetheless and moved so you could place your legs over his lap. He looked at the others and spoke. “What else did you want to blubber about?”

Kimi was aware that he had a resting bitch face, and most times he didn’t mean to glare at people, but the three men in front of you had clearly been terrified of what Kimi might do if they stayed, so they quickly made their way out of the room.

“I told you they would find out from the fans.” You laughed. A smile broke out on Kimi’s face.

“I really thought they were smart enough to figure it out themselves.”

“Sebastian I could understand, but we’re talking about Jensen and Fernando here, my love. They were never going to figure it out on their own.”

“That’s true.” Kimi shifted you closer to him, so that you were sitting on his lap facing him. “I believe I was promised a kiss, Wife.”

“How could I ever deny you, Husband?” You whispered, leaning in close and gently placing your lips to his. His hand moved to the back of your neck to pull you closer and deepen the kiss. Both of you aware of the three drivers that had yet to move from the other side of Kimi’s door.

It wasn’t your fault if they saw something they shouldn’t’ve.

Okay, time got away from me for a bit but here it is!

I hope you all enjoyed!

Likes, replies and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#formula 1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fluff #formula one #formula 1 #kimi raikkonen x you #kimi raikkonen fluff #kimi raikkonen x reader #kimi raikkonen imagine #kimi raikkonen fic #kr7 #kimi raikkonen

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pandora-writes-one-piece · 9 days ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Law's Story - 17

Source for pic

The Great Pretender 17

Word Count: 5955

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Law is a soft dom; you have bratty tendencies (not all the time); voice kink; praise kink; cursing; very suggestive behaviour and innuendo from the start; sexual tension; teasing; so much flirting; romance; slow-burn; fluff; slight angst; mature audiences (though explicit NSFW moments will be properly tagged on the chapter); possessive Law; protective Law; soft Law; teasing Law; manipulative Doflamingo; inappropriate Doflamingo; fake relationship trope; only one-bed trope; reader has some anxiety issues; reader is a control freak and perfectionist; modern day AU; Mention of ex mentally abusive relationship;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Law (your father's doctor) start to build a flirty friendship because of your father’s procedure. So much so that when he’s invited to Baby 5’s wedding (his cousin), he asks you to be his date. His uncle Doflamingo - who is filthy rich - is very adamant on finding a suitable wife for him. Seeing as he wants to avoid that, he asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for the weekend.

Notes: One more chapter to go... gosh, I'm already feeling nostalgic... please enjoy this one (though it's angst most of the way through...) PS: Thank you @hopelesslover06 for suggesting this song! It fits perfectly!

You feel like crying. The tightness in your throat is suffocating, and the lump in it refuses to go down. Your eyes burn and itch, and you can barely stop the trembling of your lips.

But you'll be damned if you shed another tear near Ichiji.

How could you be so dumb? So naïve? Such an idiot! You should've known better than to try to be the bigger person. How could you have felt bad for someone who manipulated you so easily? He needed closure? He didn't deserve any!

Idiot!

You're almost baffled by your judgement of the situation! You can only think that you let it happen because you were feeling blissed out and happy after the love confession you and Law shared. To be truthful, closure wasn't just meant for him, but mostly for you. You needed to know you were finally rid of Ichiji. How stupid you were.

And now, as you ride home on the longest drive of your life - with Ichiji by your side - all you can think about is how your naïveté ruined the only good thing to happen to you in years.

The most beautiful thing, actually.

Have you lost Law for good? It pains you to simply consider that possibility, but how can you not? Doflamingo made it very clear you're not to speak with Law, or Doffy will ruin the clinic. You cannot imagine him making empty threats, and even so, you'd much rather not risk his wrath.

Though you can find a loophole…

If Law is the one to speak with you, then you're not breaking your promise, right?

Frantically searching through your purse, you try to find your phone, barely acknowledging Ichiji's quizzical looks. You're doing your best to ignore his presence, though he has tried to make small talk since you both entered the limo.

“Come on, where is it?” You mutter under your breath, taking out all the contents of the purse and placing them on the seat of the car. You and Law left your phones in the room before the wedding because it was a specific request by Baby 5. She wanted all the guests to be focused on the wedding instead of their devices. Doflamingo brought all your belongings to this car. It has to be in your purse.

“You won't find it, Doll.”

“Shut up.” You automatically reply before biting your lip. Silent treatment and consequent ignoring of one's presence imply that you don’t speak with him. So you shouldn't speak with him. Then again… “What do you mean?” You ask without looking him in the eyes.

“Donquixote confiscated your phone. No doubt to keep you from speaking with Trafalgar. Though I wouldn't put it past him to snoop on everything you have there.” His tone is amused, and that alone makes you seethe. It takes one manipulator to know another one.

“He won't be able to unlock it.” You say, shaking the remaining contents of your purse into your lap and coming out one phone short. “Shit!”

“Won't he?” Ichiji's dry chuckle has you grinding your teeth in no time, your pain momentarily forgotten and replaced by pure, unbridled anger. “Wasn't your tablet password-locked, too?”

Fuck.

“How—...” You don't even finish your sentence. You know how. And, once again, shame on you and your naïveté. You never changed passcodes since you broke up with Ichiji, and he knows them all. “I hate you so much, Ichiji.”

You can barely contain the pained sob that crawls up your throat, threatening to spill over and give voice to the grief filling your chest.

“It's alright, Doll. I deserve that hate.” Ichiji smirks.

“What do you have to gain by this? I don't get it. Was it just the satisfaction of seeing me suffer?” There goes your resolution about not crying in front of him.

Ichiji remains silent for so long that you think he's ignoring you. Your stifled sobs and the soft music from the radio are the only sounds that surround you.

Until he speaks. “You were mine first.” That has to be the most childish, selfish exclamation ever. Your scoff does nothing to stop his words, though. “And I'm not used to losing.”

“You're despicable.”

Stuffing all of your things back into your purse, you vow not to speak to Ichiji again. Maybe this time you'll learn your lesson.

-*-

“Come on, Law, are you sure that's what you saw?” Cora pats Law's back with fondness, trying to subtly put the whiskey bottle away from his reach because he's clearly had enough. “From what you told me just now, and I'm assuming you only skimmed the details, her past relationship with Ichiji was toxic, to say the least. Would she really get back with him?”

Law can't help but think that Cora does have a point. Law's witnessed you lose control and spiral because of Ichiji more times than he can count just this weekend. Why would you go back to him?

The kiss…

Was there really a kiss? Maybe not, but there was definitely an intimate hug. And then you left.

With him…

And that is something he cannot stomach. Not even with the help of whiskey or Cora's words. Something’s not adding up, and he's not sure what it is.

“I know what I saw.” Ichiji's hand on your lower back, both of you leaving. Without saying goodbye.

“Have you tried calling her? Listen to what she has to say?”

Law downs another glass of whiskey and steals the bottle back from Cora. “I don't want to listen.” But he does. And he did try to call you.

Straight to voicemail.

He won't try again. It's pretty clear now, no matter how much of what happened doesn't add up, you left without a word and don't want to be contacted. You weren't forced to leave, he saw you. You left of your own volition. And, damn it, if that doesn't hurt. Because both of you had just exchanged love confessions. It all felt so real.

And it's over. Just like that.

“I'm sure she has a good explanation, Law. Please be rational. Use your brain a bit instead of just your heart.” Cora's words are soft, but Law doesn't care for any of them.

“I can't be rational, Cora, when I feel completely out of control! How can I think straight when all I feel is pain?” Law gulps down whiskey straight from the bottle and gets up from the table. The venue is empty by now, as empty as his heart. Then he gets up on slightly wobbly feet, ignoring Cora’s help and nursing the bottle against his chest. “I'm going to bed. I'm fine!” He adds before Cora has a chance to say anything else.

But he's not fine. He's far from it, actually. And he's being completely honest. There's no way he can let his rational self take over when his emotional self is spiralling and hurting. He’s regressed back to the state he was in after Monet.

And he's not quite sure if this time he'll be able to get out at all.

-*-

It's nearly six in the morning when you arrive home. The sun is already peeking through the clouds, casting its orange glow on the fields you know so well.

Ichiji dozed off beside you, but thankfully, he stopped trying to make small talk with you around halfway through the ride. When you heard him snoring, you finally let yourself cry. Sleep eluded you all the way home and, despite feeling completely exhausted, you're not sure you'll ever be able to sleep again.

When the limo stops near your porch and the driver starts to unload your bags, Ichiji stirs awake, but you pay him no mind. Yet, while you're still grabbing your purse and the shoes you took off, he gets out of the limo and goes around to open the door for you, something he never did when you were together.

“You're home safe, Doll.” He says with a smile, and you simply grunt, getting up and swatting his extended hand away. When you look up the porch, Shanks is already there. A heavy frown on his lips as he stares at Ichiji and your - assuredly - tear-strained, swollen face. “Hello, Mr. Shanks.”

Ichiji waves and tries to place a hand on your lower back to lead you up the stairs. You flinch and squirm, your warning snarl turning into a sob without meaning to. “Stop. Touching. Me. You've done enough.”

“Alright, Vinsmoke, I'm gonna give you five seconds to get your ass back into the limo and disappear from my property before things start to get ugly.” Shanks bellows from the porch before starting to descend the steps, at the same time you're walking towards him. “One…”

“Doll…”

“Two…”

“I'm a phone call away.” Ichiji's carefree smirk still manages to send a wicked shiver down your spine.

“Three…”

“Get lost, Ichiji.” You drawl out, too tired to come up with a witty retort.

“Four… I'm not bluffing.”

“Fine.” Ichiji laughs and enters the limo without another look your way, though before closing the door, he still manages to add, “I still won. You might not be mine, but you're definitely not his.”

And before the limo reaches the gate, you're hugging yourself, ragged sobs leaving your lips in broken pants as your father rushes down the last steps to hold you against him in a one-armed embrace.

“Hey, hey, Bug, what's going on? What happened? Where's Law?” You bite down a desperate wail when your father mentions Law, but your shoulders keep shaking with sobs. He quickly realises something went wrong, but he doesn't pry, at least not yet. “Come inside, honey. There's coffee and some cake Makino made for me. It's your favourite.”

He tries, thinking it might help cheer you up. He's not wrong. A slice of your favourite cake and a mug of coffee might not even begin to heal your wounds or mend your soul, but it might patch you up just enough to pull yourself together for a few hours. So you follow Shanks inside, his arm steadying your wobbly steps.

You realise you should take a bath. You’re still wearing the bridesmaid dress, and your feet are dirty, you’re sweaty and tired and you’re pretty sure some hot water would feel like a balm to your broken heart. Yet you barely find the strength to sit down at the kitchen table while Shanks prepares a cup of coffee and some cake, let alone to take a shower.

Your father sits down in front of you. He’s silent, but his eyes carry all the unspoken questions he means to ask you, his worry evident in the way he absorbs every hiccup, every sob, every tremble of your hands. It’s clear he wants to comfort you, but he doesn’t quite know how to do it without prying.

“Want to tell me what happened?” He asks after you finish eating, his voice soft.

You don’t. You really don’t want to talk about it. But you also don’t want to worry your father more than you already have, so perhaps you should give him something.

A heavy sigh parts your lips before you begin your tale. “Law and I… we… we connected and… things were going great, until they weren’t…” Shaking your head, you give up on telling all the details, all the hurt and manipulations you’ve both suffered. It’s too much, and you just can’t go through it again.

Shanks gets enough of it to realise your heart is broken, whatever the reason may be, so he nods and reaches for your hand. “It’s okay, Bug. You don’t have to tell it all right now. Want to get some rest? You look… well… you look a bit…”

“I know. I’ll go up to my room, thanks, dad.” You know you look like crap. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to sleep, though. But it’s worth a shot.

-*-

You didn’t try to call him back. You didn’t try to reach out. You just… ghosted him.

When Law left the party, tipsy and broken-hearted, after being led to his room by a worried Cora - despite Law’s insistence that he could do it on his own - he didn’t realise that all your stuff was gone. He just realised how cold and lonely the room felt without your presence. How big the bed seemed, and how empty he was.

When he woke up this morning, though… it was like another knife was shoved into his already bleeding chest. You had not only left him without a word, you had planned it, since there was no way you could have packed that fast.

Were you playing him all night? All weekend? Why?

Law can’t grasp what your motivations are for this move. Why did you go back to a toxic relationship? To someone who hurt you so much and so permanently that they still triggered panic attacks.

It doesn’t make any sense.

But no matter how hard he tries to find reasons for your sudden disappearance, his hurt always takes over any rational thought. It’s the feeling of being betrayed, abandoned, and left behind that prevents him from coming to any rational conclusion.

Why?

He doesn’t know… he just knows he’s broken once again. He placed his trust, he laid down his love, and was, once more, deceived.

-*-

Days pass slowly. You barely sleep, barely eat, there’s not much that can motivate you. All you can think about is Law. How hurt and broken he must be feeling. You didn’t even have a chance to explain, so, obviously, he’s thinking the worst.

Your phone arrived in the mail one day after you did. Law’s contact was blocked, and there was a letter accompanying the device reminding you of the consequences of pursuing any contact with him.

Like you needed the reminder.

Doflamingo’s words still ring clearly in your head. There’s no way you’ll provoke his wrath, not when Law’s work is in jeopardy. You can’t risk it.

You try to distract yourself with work around the farm, and when your father sends you back into the house, claiming he doesn’t need any help, you start to rearrange the kitchen cabinets, organising everything, getting rid of old stuff, filling your mind with small, menial tasks to keep yourself busy instead of losing yourself in sorrow and pain.

It barely works.

It takes about a week before you crack a smile at something Shanks says. Well… it’s barely a smile, but it’s something other than the constant sad look you’ve now grown used to.

You share a bit more of what transpired with your father because you know he’s worried, but you leave out all the parts with Doflamingo and Ichiji. Leaving what really happened unsaid, minimising so much of your pain that, when you retell it like that, it almost seems like you’re overreacting.

Shanks doesn’t question anything, though. He just supports you.

-*-

Cora calls Law almost daily, checking in on him, making sure he’s eating and asking how he’s feeling. His uncle tries to lighten up the matter, but Law knows he’s terrified. He’s afraid Law will return to the broken shell of a man he was when Monet betrayed his trust. That’s why he keeps reaching out.

Law knows he won’t do that to Cora again. He’ll never shut him out because he knows how much that hurt him. But Law doubts he’ll ever be able to trust anyone again.

He’s returned to the clinic, and if at first his friends greet him with bright smiles and teasing questions, as soon as they sense the mood he’s in and how closed off he appears, all questions cease. They realise something went wrong, and they know better than to pry.

Law buries himself in work. He takes double shifts at the hospital, prolongs clinic hours. When he’s not seeing patients, he’s studying patient files or writing up essays, anything to keep his mind distracted and useful.

Anything else is too painful.

It all reminds him of you.

-*-

You’re not sure if you’ll ever feel whole again. Or happy, for that matter. Everything seems bleak, devoid of colour, empty… You try to make an effort to smile more often, if only for your father’s benefit, but it all feels fake…

Though you’ve managed to limit your crying fits to bedtime only.

That is, until you receive a package in the mail. It’s a thin envelope addressed to you, and for a brief moment, you fear that it might come from Doflamingo. Another bunch of threats or something else to remind you to stay away from Law.

It’s not.

It’s the photos from your and Law’s photoshoot.

And it’s like a knife through your heart.

A sob shakes your shoulders as it claws through your throat, and you slump down on the kitchen floor. Tears spill and fall freely across your cheeks, and the pain is overwhelming.

As you flip through the pictures, over and over, you can’t keep grief at bay: You and Law smiling at each other; you rolling Law’s sleeves as he gazes at you with nothing short of adoration; you tousling his hair while he graces you with a smirk; your soft kiss, full of passion; your look of devotion as the both of you realise that what you share is not part of a fake relationship…

There’s so much love there.

It hurts so much.

The pictures scatter on the floor as you use both hands to clamp your mouth. Shanks is just outside, you don’t want to alert him to your crying, but you can’t help the sobs from shaking your chest and shoulders.

It’s too painful.

With trembling hands, you reach for your phone, finger hovering over Law’s name. You want to see him, you want to speak to him… you need him.

An eternity passes before your heart settles, and you set your phone down. You can’t call him.

You can’t…

Picking up the photos, you return to your room to store them somewhere far away from you. At least Shanks didn’t see you break down.

One less worry.

-*-

Shanks waits for you to leave to go to the store to pick up some of his favourite cookies he completely forgot to buy when he was there this morning.

Then he goes to your room. He doesn’t want to pry, actually, he really shouldn’t pry, but he can’t stand to see you so broken, so unlike yourself.

He doesn’t know the full story since you didn’t share everything, but he knows Law means far more to you than you let on. It wasn’t just a small fling that went wrong, as you tried to paint it, it was far deeper. He knows it.

And he needs to see what was inside that envelope that made you break down on the kitchen floor. He wants to help, that’s all.

It takes him little time to find it, though. Ever since you took all of your childhood things out of your room, it’s been quite empty, save for your clothes, some books, and a few items you just didn’t want to part with.

Shanks can’t help the small smile form on his lips as he looks at the pictures of you and Law. You both look so happy, so in love. He can see it in every single one of the photos, from the way you look at each other to the way you touch one another. After a few photos he almost feels like he’s intruding on something personal and private, so he sets the photos back into the envelope and stores it where it was.

He knows what to do to help you now.

Whatever happened between the two of you, it can’t have been destroyed in a weekend. Not when it seems so strong.

He’s done sitting on the sidelines of your life, so he’s going to act.

-*-

When Baby 5 sends him the photos from the photoshoot, Law has half a mind to just throw them in the trash without opening the envelope. He can’t justify why he doesn’t do just that.

Is he a masochist?

He must be.

There’s no other explanation for why he’s opening the envelope, heart already pounding madly against his chest, even before he scans its contents.

When he does, though…

He can’t say he’s more broken-hearted than before, really, because he can’t be more broken than that. But these pictures cut him in ways he can’t even begin to grasp, let alone comprehend. How can what you two had have been forsaken in a few moments?

How can a love so deep and so strong be torn asunder like that?

Nothing adds up, nothing makes sense, and Law doesn’t know what to do anymore. Should he still dare to hope and seek you out himself? Or should he just accept defeat and let you go?

-*-

“Dad, I’m home. I had to go to two different stores just to get you your cookies, so you better–... Shanks!” The sight of your father sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs makes your stomach climb all the way up to your throat. “Dad, dad! What happened?”

Shanks groans and grunts. He’s lying down, his back bent in a weird position and his face twisted with a pained grimace. “I tripped, Bug.”

“Down the stairs? Why can't you be more careful?” You fuss over him, not really knowing if you should move him or not, panic already making you sweat.

“My phone is in the living room. I couldn’t call you or anyone for help. But I’m not that hurt. It’s just my back…”

“What do you mean just your back? The back you just had surgery on? The same one?” Your voice rises with each sarcastic question, already fumbling through your purse, searching for your phone.

“Take me to the clinic, Bug, please.”

Oh, no, no. You can’t. The trembling in your hands makes your phone fall, and you take a deep shaky breath before picking it up and searching for the fire station number. “No. We’re going to the hospital. I’m calling Luffy.”

Shanks’ hand grips your wrist tightly as he whispers your name. “Take me to the clinic. If you take me to the hospital, I’ll be in the ER forever, and they’ll just call Law because he’s the one who operated on me. Cut me some slack and just take me to the one who can help me.”

Shanks is already sitting up with a pained grunt, and you start to panic. You can’t see Law, you just can’t. Even though it’s the one thing you want to do, you can’t.

“I… I…” Though you can stay in the car. You just need to drive your dad there, that’s it. That’s all you have to do, there’s no need to go inside. “Okay, let’s go.”

-*-

“Here we are, I’ll leave you with Penguin and Shachi and wait here in the car, okay?”

“No!” Shanks exclaims, one hand already clutching your wrist while the other presses into his lower back. “It hurts, Bug, I need you, please!” If you hadn’t witnessed his sprawled-out form at the bottom of the steps, you would say he’s faking it.

You have half a mind to refuse and just call one of the men over to help, but your heart constricts in your chest, and all the sleepless nights you spent by his side when he was operated on rush into your mind like a drama movie. He needs you, and you need to know he’ll be fine.

“Fine! Let’s go.” Ushering your father through the entrance of the clinic, you still have every intention of leaving him with the nurses, like you did the first time you brought him here, and leaving to wait for him in the car, begging Kaya to update you with news. He’ll be none the wiser, and you won’t have to face Law.

But just by being in the clinic, your heart seems ready to burst out of your chest with all the force it’s beating with. How would Law react if he saw you?

Hurt, definitely. Betrayed, for sure. Angry? Most likely.

While you would shatter immediately. You miss him so, so much.

“Kaya, can you help us, please?” Your words are barely a whisper. You’re not sure if Law can hear what happens outside of his office door, but you don’t want to chance it. Kaya looks at you in awe and, then, with one look at your father, her expression changes to a half-hidden smirk.

What?

You look at Shanks, but he’s still grimacing in pain, though you can almost wager he made some sort of signal to Kaya for her to react like that.

“Bring Mr. S. this way.” She leads you towards a familiar door, and you pause.

“Oh, no, no. Where’s Penguin? Or Shachi? Dad, you can go in… I’ll…”

“Nonsense! Let’s go!” Kaya practically shoves you until you’re in front of Law’s office door. Your stomach turns and twists, and you can’t stop the ragged gasps from leaving you.

You can’t do this. You can’t see Law. Doflamingo… the clinic… no, no, no…

“There’s an urgent patient, Dr. Trafalgar!” Kaya announces as she opens the door without knocking and shoves you inside.

Your breath catches in your throat when you and Law lock gazes. He’s slumped on his desk, elbows on the table while his fingers thread through his dark locks, a defeated look in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel all the pain of the past weeks crashing down in waves again.

He’s up in an instant, a surprised look in his eyes and a flicker of hope in them. He quickly masks it by holding his cold demeanour back in place, though. Everything happens in seconds, but it’s been so long since you’ve seen him that it seems like an eternity.

God, it hurts so much.

“Would you look at that, my back is healed! I feel fine! But maybe you two should talk.” Shanks exclaims before closing the door and leaving you inside, heart thumping and tears threatening to fall.

All you want to do is run to him, swing your arms around his neck and kiss him. Tell him how sorry you are and how it was all a mistake and how much you love him.

But you can’t.

Because everything he’s worked for is on the line and Doflamingo can destroy it all in mere seconds.

“I… I… I should go…” You whisper but don’t make a single move. You don’t want to go. You thought you were strong enough to endure separation because it was for Law’s sake. You could handle a broken heart, you’ve done it before, even if it didn’t hurt nearly as much as now. But the truth is that you’re weak, and now Law is right in front of you. The damage is already done, so you better use it to at least apologise.

Right?

“Maybe you should. That’s one thing you seem to be good at… leaving me.” Law’s voice sounds broken, unused, and very raw. His words hurt more than any separation ever could, but they ring true. He’s right, you left him.

Biting down your lip to hold in a sob, you wrap your arms around yourself as a shield and downcast your gaze.

“I’m sorry…” That’s all you can say. You can’t tell him what Doflamingo threatened, you can’t share any of that. But you want to make amends. At least that. “I never meant to hurt you.”

Law starts to pace his office, his hand raking through his hair in desperate motions, all of his control seemingly slipping away with ease now that he’s seen you.

“And yet you did. Why? I just–... God! Why?” You remain silent. You can’t tell him the truth, but you refuse to lie. “Why go back to a toxic relationship? I thought–... damnit, I thought you were healing! Why?”

You can hold back the words but you fail to hold back the tears. Your nails are already shaping indents against your arms with the strength you're gripping them and your lower lip must be near breaking open with the force of which you are biting it.

“I need to know what happened, I thought we–... I thought you loved me!” The way his voice breaks has you instantly sobbing. Why does it hurt so much? “Please… tell me… please.”

‘I don’t beg, sweetheart. Ever.’

He said that to you in your most intimate moment and yet… Now he’s begging you for the truth. But you can’t!

“Do you still love him?” Your head raises in shock and you see Law slumping his shoulders, his eyes downcasting like he’s expecting you to answer ‘yes’, and you can’t stay silent anymore.

“I don’t! I don’t love him, Law, I love–...” You stop the words just as you were about to spill them, but Law seems so focused on finding out what happened that he doesn’t even acknowledge what you were about to say.

“Did you kiss him?”

“No!” Law raises his eyes to you, a hint of disbelief darkening the amber in them and you falter. He doesn’t trust your words, you’ve hurt him too deeply. “I didn’t! And I shouldn’t have hugged him either, that was a terrible mistake!”

“Then why did you?”

“I thought–...” This you can share, at least this might help mitigate some of his pain. “He wanted closure, that’s what he said, so he could leave and move on and, frankly, so did I!” You sigh, and another sob accompanies it. “I was feeling the happiest I’ve ever felt because of you… and when he proposed closure, I thought… that’s exactly what I needed too!”

You have been wracking your brain as to why you so readily accepted his hug and came to this conclusion, even though it was an unconscious one, you know that’s what your heart meant.

“I needed to leave my hurtful past behind so I could start a future with you. I just never thought… If I could go back… I would’ve never let them–...” Another sob interrupts your speech, and you use it to shut up because if you don’t, you might speak too much, you might’ve already have…

Law is silent, and you steal a glance his way. He’s still pacing back and forth, a deep crease between his eyebrows to accompany his pursed lips, like he’s in deep thought. Maybe he didn’t acknowledge your slip-up again.

“You don’t love him, you didn’t kiss him…” He pauses right in front of you and you have to hold your breath because his scent is intoxicating. It brings back memories of kisses and touches, of sweet nothings and whispered forevers. It’s much more than you can bear at the moment. “So… why? Why did you leave with him? There has to be an explanation…”

He takes another step forward but quickly falls back, clenching his fists against his legs as if to stop himself from the impulse to touch you.

“I knew that what I saw must’ve had an explanation, so as soon as I cooled off, I came back. I was going to speak with you, hear what you had to say because, surely, I had jumped to conclusions. But then…” Law retreats another step, passing his hand through his face and groaning. “You were leaving with Vinsmoke! With him! Not at the same time as him by coincidence or chance, but with him.” Another fresh wave of tears hits you, and the slight tremble in Law’s voice shows you just how hard he’s struggling to keep it together. “Why? I can’t understand why…”

And you can’t tell him.

So, this is where you’re going to leave things. He wants to understand, and you can’t explain. You both love each other so much and you can’t be together. It’s heart-wrenching, devastating, and you just feel like screaming.

“Why?” He insists and you keep sobbing. Your name leaves his lips in another whispered plea. “Why?”

“I can’t…” You say, the pain of your words cutting deep into both your hearts.

Suddenly, he’s right in front of you, his presence overwhelming, as always, and the urge to hold him is so strong that it almost makes you dizzy. You take two steps back to try and escape him before you fold, and stop when your back hits the door.

“You can’t, what?” He insists, still coming closer, his voice more eager, like he’s realising there’s something you’re not telling him and that it must be the puzzle piece he’s been missing to grasp what happened.

You just shake your head, closing your eyes and biting back another sob. With another step, he’s right in front of you. It takes another heartbeat to feel his hand cupping your cheek, feeling your tears, maybe realising you’re hurting too much for someone who, supposedly, left him.

God, you’re not strong enough.

“Tell me what really happened. I refuse to believe you just left me like that.” Law presses his forehead against yours, and you let out a strangled whimper. You need his touch, his love, his lips… you need him. Suddenly, Law’s breath hitches, like he finally grasped something. “Them…? You said ‘them’! Do you mean… is Doffy involved? Is he threatening you?”

You know Law is a genius, but you weren’t expecting him to get it so fast. Still, you shake your head. You can’t risk Doflamingo shutting down Law’s clinic. You just can’t. You don’t know if Law would choose you over his job, and you don’t want to force him to have to make that choice.

“You can’t say, right? Fine.” He pulls back his face, but not his body or his hand. “Look at me.” You obey because he’s using the voice and, frankly, you just don’t have any strength left to fight anymore. “I’m going to ask you one question, and if the answer is ‘no’, you can leave and we don’t have to speak anymore. Okay?”

You nod softly, his closeness leaving you breathless.

“Do you love me?” Law’s thumb brushes your lower lip, his face too close to yours, and you try, you really try hard to hold back your emotions, but you can't. Whatever feeble defences you had left come down crumbling and crashing alongside a fresh bout of tears as you nod vigorously.

“I do. I love you, Law, I love you so much.” Your voice falters with the weight of everything because if there was a chance of just leaving Law behind and having him and his business be safe, it was now, and you just squandered it. “So, so much.”

Your eyes meet his, and he stops breathing for a moment. The cold gaze he’s been wearing and shielding his emotions with dissolves as his gaze softens. Relief, longing, and a resemblance of understanding flood his features as he cups your face with both hands.

“God, love, I’ve missed you so much.”

You barely have time to process anything before his lips crash into yours in a kiss full of longing and despair. You immediately melt into his touch, your fingers grasping his shirt, pulling him closer to you, afraid you’ll lose him again.

You know Doffy is going to make his threat come true; you know you’ve just jeopardised Law’s lifework; you know you should’ve just left when you had the chance; you know this is all wrong.

But how can wrong feel so right?

This is where you belong, this is where you want to be.

Forever.

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|Epilogue|

#reader insert #reader x #x reader #fem reader #trafalgar law x reader #reader x trafalgar law #trafalgar d water law #law x reader #reader x law #law x you #you x law #the meet cute

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moonlinos · 10 months ago

Text

Invisible string (pt. II)

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Synopsis: Minho is even more determined to make you see the good in love after falling for you, while you’re too preoccupied with thinking you’re not good enough for him.

♡ Genre: A ‘lite version’ of a soulmate AU, fluff, smut, friends to lovers, pining

♡ CW: Explicit sexual content (minors dni!), hand job, fingering, like two seconds of nipple play, slut shaming, swearing

♡ Word count: 13.2k

♡ A/N: I got such a great response on the first part 🥲 thank you to everyone who left feedback. It means a lot more than you realize. I researched what to do on a trip to Japan so extensively just to write this part that I got sad I’ve never traveled there 🫠

← part I ♡ part III →

The night after you and Minho watched the light show, you stayed awake until four in the morning with your roommates as Eunha cried about her ex-boyfriend. You’ve never been the type to hope for someone’s misery, but that guy is deserving of every terrible thing that could happen to him.

After she calmed down, you fell asleep together on the couch. You only managed to check your phone in the morning, finding it thrown on your bed along with your bag. Minho’s string of messages put a smile on your face. You could use the time away from everything, even if it was only for a weekend.

You agreed to his strange invitation without thinking twice. You did, however, insist on paying for your hotel room. Chan was already being far too generous in offering you his place on a trip he had paid for.

Soon enough, two weeks flew by and the Friday of your trip finally arrived.

You’re already waiting outside of your house when Minho’s car arrives. He greets you with a hug, taking your backpack from your hands and placing it on the backseat. He opens the passenger door for you, waits until you’re settled in your seat, and only then closes the door and walks around the car. It’s something he does every time you go out together and it always makes you smile, even though it’s such a minor detail.

“You know, you’re my first friend who can drive,” you comment as he enters the car. “You shot up a lot of spots on my favorite friends’ list just by saving me from taking the bus.”

Minho chuckles. “And here I foolishly thought you liked me for my personality,” he feigns offense, shaking his head. “I actually only know how to drive because of my mom. I was moving to the countryside, and she got really worried I was gonna be stranded there, so she gave me a car when I graduated.”

You raise your brows. “You lived in the countryside?”

“Yep, I moved to Gurye right after graduating high school,” he explains simply, starting the car.

You nod slowly. Truthfully, you wanted to ask more questions but didn’t want to seem intrusive. Minho had never told you a lot about his life before starting university — the only things you know are that he has three cats back home in Gimpo and started college late for some reason. You figure he’s a private person who will hopefully open up to you once he’s ready. You couldn’t blame him either; you also desperately pretended as if your life before university didn’t exist.

As you two sit in the car, moving slowly through the awful Friday night traffic, you feel the familiar thoughts of panic overflow your mind. This trip felt almost romantic; just you and Minho in Japan for an entire weekend. You should be running away from shit like this, should be shutting him out before anything more than friendship blossoms between the two of you.

Your fingers pick on the fabric of your sheer tights, pulling and pinching apprehensively as your mind races. Because, at the end of the day, Minho is still a guy. He’s still capable of breaking your heart in the same ways it was broken before, and maybe even in new ways. He could still cheat on you, fall in love with someone else, treat you like nothing more than an object or a nuisance in his life, wake up one day and simply decide he’s had enough of you.

But he’s also Minho.

Your heart quickly countered every single reason your brain came up with on why you should run away from the situation.

How could Minho, who believes that love doesn’t allow you to hurt the person you love because it feels like you’re hurting yourself, cheat on you?

How could Minho, who told you that love makes it so that you can only see the one you love, fall in love with someone else?

How could Minho, who does stupid romance movie shit like opening car doors and pulling out chairs for you, insisting that he should walk on the street side when you’re together, reading classic novels, learning how to cook so his mom doesn’t have to, all while having three fucking cats, possibly break your heart?

Part of you hates how you have to do mental gymnastics to even consider allowing yourself to feel something more for a guy, but a bigger part knows the hurt that inevitably comes with love isn’t worth it.

You hear a soft chuckle beside you, and you lift your gaze to find Minho smiling at you as you stop at a red light.

“Is that a style thing?” He asks, gesturing toward your thighs with a nod. You furrow your brows. The light turns green, and his attention is back on the road, a grin spread across his lips. “Ripping holes in your tights. Is that a style thing?”

You look down toward your legs and grimace as you realize you had mindlessly torn two holes in your tights while overthinking. You mentally curse yourself.

“I’m cold,” you lie with an awkward giggle. “Was trying to warm myself up.”

Minho hums, stepping on the brakes as you encounter another traffic jam. He unbuckles his seat belt, turns his body toward the back seat, and retrieves his jacket before draping it over your thighs. He shoots you a small smile and turns his attention back toward the road.

The side of your brain that was against Minho and anything romantic with him just a few moments ago is completely swallowed up, dissipating as you ultimately admit to yourself that you don’t hate the prospect of this being a romantic trip as long as it’s with him.

God, you really don’t hate it one bit.

You two finally arrive at the airport just in time to board your flight with no issues. You’re not big on flying, but the flight is just a little over two hours, and Minho is such a calming presence next to you. He quietly read you some harlequin romance he picked up at the airport bookstore, and you two laughed a bit too loudly at the over-the-top plot and theatrical writing. The two of you were taken aback as the book turned out to be erotica, but hearing Minho dramatically read to you in a whisper about the hunky love interest and his manhood made you laugh until tears formed in your eyes.

After that, you two somehow end up talking about your lives back home. Minho shares how he always cooks Christmas dinner for his family, and his favorite part of the night is always the praises his grandmother throws his way. He explains that although he started cooking simply to help his mother, he found that he genuinely enjoyed it. He said he missed doing it every day, having stopped because his roommates had begun treating him as nothing more than a personal cook. You listen to his every word with a smile on your face that you can’t hide. It feels like he’s slowly opening up more to you about his life outside of university, and even something as small as this detail about his home life makes you feel closer to him.

The flight is so pleasant that you only realize you’ve landed once you see Minho unbuckling his seat belt.

You two take an Uber to the hotel, arriving in thirty minutes — you insist on paying since you’re basically here for free. You stare out the car window in awe the entire ride, Minho fondly laughing at your amazement.

As you arrive, you struggle with your backpack, pulling it out of the backseat with such force you would have fallen backward had it not been for Minho’s hands holding your shoulders. He asks if you’re okay with a chuckle, and you groan about how heavy your backpack is. Packing light wasn’t your forte.

As you two walk toward the hotel entrance, the weight on your shoulders disappears suddenly. You furrow your brows and look behind you. Minho had nonchalantly picked your backpack up by the handle and lifted it off your shoulders, carrying all the weight in his arms. You bite back a smile, murmuring a thank you. He just nods, like he hasn’t just done yet another thing you thought only happened in books written by women.

You feel that damn pinwheel return to your chest, making you feel a kind of thrill that you haven’t felt in a while. A good kind.

The hotel is relatively small, clearly on the cheap side, although it’s still quite charming. Minho mutters an apology as he catches you looking around the place.

“It was the only place I could afford being a broke college student,” He explains with a sheepish chuckle, and you shake your head.

“It’s lovely. I’m so happy to be here, I think I wouldn’t mind sleeping on the floor.”

Minho is the one who checks you in, speaking in near-perfect Japanese to the front desk clerk. You focus on the wood chipping on the table and bite the inside of your cheek as you inwardly berate yourself for finding it so damn attractive. It was different from your classes or your small study sessions. You had never truly grasped just how good Minho was until right now. You didn’t understand a word he said. All you know is that he sounded too sexy for his own good while saying it.

Minho hands you the key and tells you the room number, and you finally make your way up the stairs. He walks beside you the whole way, and you wonder if his room is on the same floor as yours or if he’s just doing this so he can hold your backpack off your shoulders.

As you reach your room on the third floor, he stops you before you can insert the key into the door.

“Before you go inside…” He trails off, pursing his lips before letting out a sigh. “I — we could only afford to pay for one room, so this is actually our room.”

Your eyes widen for a second before you nod slowly. “Oh. It’s… okay,” you assure him, although there’s very little confidence in your voice. The prospect of sharing a bed with Minho makes you nervous, but not for the reasons you thought it would.

“There are two beds! Of course,” He assures you, and you mentally slap yourself on the forehead for feeling disappointed at this information.

It’s because you’ve exclusively been having sex with Hyunjin for so long, you reason with yourself. Your hormones must be making you stupid, making you want something more with someone else who isn’t him.

Yeah, that’s it.

Minho’s your friend, after all. It wouldn’t make sense for you to want anything more with him.

It’s just your stupid hormones.

You turn the key and open the door, stepping inside the tiny room with Minho. The two beds were so close together due to the room size that they might as well be just one. The only other piece of furniture is a bedside table, which basically connects the two beds.

It’s only once you slide your backpack straps off your shoulders that Minho lets go of the handle, and you toss it on the plain white sheets of the bed to your right by the bathroom door.

Feeling a chill run through your body, you let out a groan. The heater in your room is clearly not the best.

“Tights and a skirt weren’t the right choice for this weather. This shitty heater also isn’t helping,” you grumble.

Minho chuckles behind you, and you hear the sound of the bed springs as he all but throws himself onto the bed. “Poking holes in your tights probably didn’t help either,” he jokes, and you force out a chuckle.

It seems you chose today to act like a complete idiot.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom to change into your warm sleep clothes. The first thing you notice as you walk out into the room again is Minho’s bright orange sweater with a cat knitted on the front. He’s lying down, his back resting on the wall since the beds don’t have a headboard, and the color of his sweater might be a bit offensive to the eyes, but it’s quickly forgiven once you take in the kitten adorning the fabric.

You giggle, and he looks up from his phone, his eyes meeting yours.

“Your sweater is really cute,” you tell him as you sit down in your bed, crossing your legs in an attempt to warm yourself a bit more.

Minho grins. “I know,” He says smugly, “It reminds me of two of my cats because of the color.”

“You know,” you hummed, “You never showed me any pictures of your cats.”

You watch as his eyes light up at your words. He locks his phone before quickly turning it to face you, showing you his wallpaper. Your lips stretch into a fond smile as you analyze the picture: Minho holding an orange and white cat close to his face with a grin, a butterfly filter cutely adorning his nose.

“This is Soonie, he’s the first cat I got,” He explains, turning his head so he could look at the screen as well, “I was thirteen when I adopted him, and I remember begging my parents for almost three months until they agreed. In the end, they loved him so much they allowed me to adopt another one.”

Minho unlocks his phone and opens his gallery, flipping through his pictures like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You purse your lips. It feels like you’re intruding, even though he’s the one who hasn’t moved the screen an inch. You couldn’t think of one person you’d trust enough to so freely view every single picture you had on your phone like this. Minho really was something else.

Most of his gallery is composed of blurry food pictures mixed with pages and covers of books and computer screens filled with codes. Until he reaches a point — before he started university, you assume — where the only thing you can see is pictures of cats.

He stops scrolling and clicks a picture of the same orange cat, this time wearing glasses and a hat. You snort because, of course he dresses his cats in clothes.

“Soonie is adorable,” you beam. Minho furrows his brows and shakes his head, looking at you like he’s offended.

“This is Doongie,” he states like it’s obvious, “The second cat I adopted.”

Your brows furrow as well. “Minho, that’s the same cat.”

He clicks his tongue, closing the picture and scrolling before opening another one; two orange and white cats lay together on a cat tree. Your lips fall open.

“See? This one is Soonie, he has a white nose. And this one is Doongie, his nose is orange,” He explains, and you nod, knowing full well you’d be dead if your life depended on distinguishing these two cats. ��Doongie is the middle child, so he’s more temperamental.”

You stifle a giggle at him talking about his cats like they’re his children, much like you do.

He closes the picture once again and scrolls down further. His fingers hover over a picture for a couple of seconds, like he’s hesitating before he ultimately opens it. The screen fills with the image of a younger Minho smiling while holding a gray cat. His wire-frame glasses were round, unlike his current ones, and his black hair used to be shorter. The picture has clearly been cropped, only half of the cat’s body still visible.

“This is Dori. He’s the last cat I got, and he’s actually the only one I call my son.” He lets out a breathy chuckle. “I adopted him with my ex-girlfriend. She wanted a dog, but I fell in love with Dori as soon as I laid eyes on him on the website, so she had no choice but to accept him.”

You watch as he smiles at the picture and the memory. You absentmindedly fiddle with your fingers on your lap, an all too familiar ugly feeling bubbling inside you. Jealousy. Not because Minho mentioned a girlfriend — you wish it was as simple as that. Jealousy consumed you when you were forced to face the reality that people have healthy relationships, where one partner sacrifices their own desires just to please their loved one. Where you make plans to adopt a kitten together just so you can call it your son. You know damn well you were never even close to having something even remotely similar to that.

You shake the feeling off, forcing out a smile. “He’s really cute,” you tell Minho, “And he’s my favorite, ‘cause at least I can tell him apart from the other two.”

Minho chuckles, scrunching his nose as he locks his phone and rests it on his thigh.

You two settle into bed after Minho walked you through the day he and Chan had planned for tomorrow. He had organized everything neatly in a travel planning app — from where you would be going down to an estimate of how much you would be spending. You always preferred roughly planning things out mentally whenever you traveled, mostly enjoying going with the flow.

Among all your coincidentally similar little incidents, you finally found something in which you two are complete opposites.

That should, in theory, annoy you, but you can’t help but find his meticulousness endearing. You can just picture him searching tirelessly online, crunching numbers and jotting everything down. The image is too adorable for you to be mad.

“Guess we finally found somewhere we’re different,” you mention with a smile as you tuck yourself into your sheets. Minho remains sitting on his bed, putting his glasses on their case.

He hums. “Rather than different, maybe we just complement each other in this case? You hate organizing, and I fucking love to do it, as you just saw,” he chuckles, “We’d be a great team. I plan everything, and all you have to do is show up.”

You nod with a smile, going over the places he chose in your head. You were excited for all but one: the very first one on the list, Inokashira Park.

“You know,” you start with a sigh, Minho’s eyes finding yours in the dimly lit room. “I never talk about this, but I weirdly feel like I can tell you anything. Nobody from our friend group knows this but…” you trail off, gripping the scratchy fabric of the comforter. “One of my ex-boyfriends cheated on me during a family trip to Japan when I was seventeen. I found out ‘cause the girl he hooked up with tagged him in pictures on Instagram. They were together in Inokashira Park.”

Minho hums, his eyes studying your face. After a beat of silence, he shrugs.

“We can skip that if you want to. I just—” He purses his lips, shifting on the mattress. “I just don’t think you should deprive yourself of the experience just because of a bad memory. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

You nod, taking in his words. He was right. You were positive none of your exes ever deprived themselves of going back to places where they cheated on you, so why should you? They were the ones in the wrong, the ones who hurt and betrayed you, so why should you be the one to bear the trauma?

Minho rests his back against the wall, playing with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. “Is that why you don’t believe in love anymore? Don’t feel like you have to answer! I just… I wondered…” He faltered, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. “I wondered what could have happened to make you feel that way.”

“Well, that was just one of five times when love proved to kind of hate my guts,” you chuckle. You didn’t understand why, but the words you held back for so long were bubbling at your throat, ready to spill out. And you were willing to let them. Even if only to a certain extent, you were ready to talk about this pathetic side of your life. You would rationalize it all later. Right now, you simply wanted to talk.

“I’ve had five boyfriends in my life, and they were all terrible in some way. I know, it’s a lot of relationships considering my age.” You scrunch up your face, cringing when you voice out the number.

Minho chuckles, and you’re ready for him to agree.

“It’s really not. There’s no right or wrong number of people to date during your teenage years or your twenties.” You open your eyes to find him leaning on his side, looking at you dismissively. “Some people date more, some date less, some people don’t even date at all. Either way, it’s fine.”

Your lips open and close, then open again. You had always expected people’s reactions to be the same as the ones you heard during high school. From your classmates to your ex-boyfriends, even your friends at the time, they all seemed to be in unanimous agreement that you were at fault for having dated so much in such a brief period. You never thought that maybe people with different opinions existed. And that, maybe, those people would be the ones who you care the most about.

Thinking about it now, after hearing Minho’s words, you were certain neither Eunha nor Soojung — or any of your friends, for that matter — would ever think badly about you or shame you simply because you’ve had five boyfriends. It seemed silly even to think that way now.

It was sad how much your teenage traumas undeniably affected your perception of reality.

Minho is the one to break the silence, his soft voice pulling you away from your thoughts.

“I’m sorry that happened to you. I promise you, the memories we make on this trip will be good enough that they override this lousy one,” he vows with a small nod. “And, more than ever before, I truly hope I can change your view of love.”

You smile at his words. “I surprisingly feel my thoughts about many things changing. Love is one of them.”

“I’m glad,” he hums, finally slipping under his covers. “Y’know, love isn’t only romantic. You say you’re closed off to love, that’s really a lie,” he states matter-of-factly, a smug grin spreading across his lips. You bite back a smile and raise your eyebrows at him. He continues, “The love you feel for your family and your friends, platonic love, that’s also love. I’ve been around you long enough to know just how much you love your friends.”

To say you loved your friends almost didn’t seem sufficient. After graduating high school, you left behind all the judgmental and toxic friends you had. You are immensely grateful to have found such good people at university. Eunha and Soojung were the housemates of your dreams, the three of you so different that it truthfully shouldn’t work, but it simply did. Hyunjin becoming your best friend was also a surprise; he was younger than you, and you had never been friends with a guy before — in part thanks to your jealous boyfriends — but he carved out a space for himself in your life and refused to leave. And you were so thankful for that.

And then there was Minho, who had come out of the blue into your life and just as suddenly became such an important person to you. From the way you two first met to your little similarities and how well you got along in such a short time, it was as if fate pulled you toward him.

You smile.

“I do love them,” you tell him, fiddling with your fingers under the white comforter. “And I love you, too, Minho. You’re my friend, after all. In a way, you’re already succeeding in changing my view of love just by being you.”

Minho’s eyes blink rapidly as he looks at you, his parted lips making him look like a confused child before they close. He hums, nodding as a small smile spreads on his lips, which quickly grows bigger and bigger until he’s basically giggling. He hides his face behind his hand, clearing his throat. You feel warmth spread across your chest at the sight. You’re sure if the lights were brighter, you’d be able to see his ears turning red.

You shake your head with a chuckle. The mood has suddenly become a bit too emotional, and you still find yourself running away from these things. However, you were proud of your progress tonight. Talking about love and your past — especially regarding your ex-boyfriends — was already a huge step for you.

You hope Minho knows he’s part of the reason you’re able to take this step in the first place.

“Okay, your turn.” You sit up on the bed, the white comforter pooling on your lap. “I’m curious too, y’know. You’re such a love enthusiast,” you tease him with a grin, earning you a chuckle from Minho, who throws his head back. “Tell me about your romantic experiences.”

He mirrors you and sits up on his bed. “Experience. I’ve only had one girlfriend,” he corrects you, “We met on the first day of high school and began dating the year after that, when we were sixteen. We were together until I was just about to turn twenty-one, so…” he trails off with a deep sigh. “Yeah, it was quite the long first relationship.”

“My five relationships combined didn’t last as long as that.” You click your tongue, and Minho lets out a breathy laugh. “Why did you two break up after being together for so long?” You blurt out before you can process the words inside your head. Annoyed with your own self, you scrunch up your face. You really chose today to be an idiot. “If that’s okay for me to ask! Sorry for being nosy, I’m just— I guess I’m curious.”

Minho smiles at you, a fond smile he always shoots your way whenever you are word-vomiting. Much like your other friends, he had quickly adapted to your habit of spilling out words before thinking about them.

“It’s a bit of a long story. Basically, she wanted a quiet and simple life in the countryside, so I did that for her,” he explains, shrugging dismissively. So that was the reason he had moved to Gurye after finishing school. “I began saving up money at eighteen with my job at the convenience store while she gave piano lessons to the kids in our neighborhood, and we moved on her twentieth birthday. I figured I could just do programming jobs from home, anyway, so I completely gave up on my plans to attend university…” Minho trails off, his voice all but a whisper at the end of the sentence. He shakes his head, a bitter chuckle leaving his lips as he continues, “I kind of wanna kick myself in the face for that now. It fucking sucks to have started university so late, but it was my own decision. I guess you say stupid shit when you’re nervous, and I do stupid shit when I’m in love.”

You had never met someone who would abandon so much of themselves for the person they loved. It made Minho even more admirable to you. However, even though it was his own decision, he clearly came to regret it. People often say love is all about compromises, and you couldn’t help but feel like Minho had been the only one to give up anything in this scenario.

“Were your parents okay with you two making such a drastic move?” You question, your curiosity bubbling inside your chest.

Minho scoffs. “Of course they weren’t. Especially my dad. But we were nearing our twenties, so there wasn’t much they could do to stop us.”

He drums his fingers on his thighs, and you wonder if this subject brought back sour memories — or maybe even good ones he just didn’t like remembering because they had become part of the past. You want to tell him it’s okay if he doesn’t want to talk about it any longer, but he’s continuing his story before you can speak.

“We adopted Dori and left a week later. We were pretty much broke. All we could afford was a small cottage that hadn’t been renovated in over a decade, but we were happy,” Minho’s voice is soft as he speaks, a smile forming on his lips as he stares ahead, almost as if he’s reliving those moments in his head. “We talked about growing old together and raising our kids in that cottage. And we — god, looking back, this was so stupid it’s fucking funny,” He chuckled, shaking his head and raising his gaze to meet yours. “We were actually trying to get pregnant. We barely had money to feed Dori and ourselves, yet it still crushed us every time that test read negative.”

You feel your expression change, a blend of astonishment and admiration washing over you. They must’ve truly been in love. You felt a slight pang of hurt and envy run through your body; it truly was so easy for other people when it came to love.

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out,” you lament, although you’re not sure if you’re talking about the pregnancy or the entire relationship.

Minho shakes his head, scrunching his nose. “Don’t feel bad, it was a blessing in disguise. I can’t imagine how the fuck we would ever manage to raise a baby at that time.”

“It seems like you two had the perfect relationship.” You force out a smile, waging war against your bitter jealousy.

“It was perfect, until it wasn’t,” Minho shrugs dismissively, “We began to fight a lot after a while. Haneul would always get upset at me for not doing things the way she thought I should do them, down to replying in a way that didn’t fit with what she had hoped I would say. And I was the same, always getting frustrated when she disagreed with me, even if it was about something silly like what to have for dinner. We used to be able to talk it out and come to an agreement in the past — it wasn’t for nothing that we were together for so long — but being in that little cottage, just us two all the time, it became suffocating.”

“Is that why you two broke up?”

Minho nods. “We realized we were merely playing house. Neither of us was happy anymore,” he explains, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “It was like we each had a script inside our heads of what the other should say or how they should act. It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we mutually decided to end things before they got worse.”

Your fingers fiddle with a loose thread on the white cover. You had always been envious of this type of relationship, but you never thought to think about the fact that they can also come to an end. It always seemed to you that your relationships never worked because they weren’t perfect, like the relationships you saw in books or movies — like the one Minho had described with his ex-girlfriend.

You never once rationalized that even perfect things can ebb away. That nothing lasts forever, even if it seems utterly ideal.

“I know how terrible breakups are,” you tell him. “I can only imagine how much worse it must’ve been to you two after so many years together.”

Minho shakes his head with a smile. “I never really felt hurt by it. It was such a perfect breakup she even let me keep Dori without going through a custody battle,” he jokes, raising his eyebrows at you.

“How can it not have hurt you?” You let out an incredulous laugh. “You were in love, planning to start a family, and you tell me it didn’t hurt when it ended? That’s bullshit, Minho.”

He looks up at the ceiling, like he’s trying to find the words to explain to you. He hums. “Well, I loved Haneul. I loved her so very much, with every fiber of my being. She was my first love. My mom once said we were probably a couple in another life as well, and I fucking loved that,” He chuckles, “The idea that someone was destined for me and I was destined for them, that we were fated to find each other and be together across lifetimes.”

“Like soulmates?” You ask.

He nods. “Soulmates, yes. That’s what we were. And, after we broke up, I realized maybe people’s understanding of soulmates is wrong. At least to me,” He shrugs.

You let out a chuckle. He really turned a terrible situation into a chance to reevaluate his beliefs. It was the most Minho thing you had ever heard.

“How are people understanding it wrong, then?” You question him, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and looking at him. Minho mirrors your actions, a grin etched onto his lips.

“Well, for starters, you can have many soulmates in one lifetime.” You furrow your brows, opening your mouth to ask him more questions, but he quickly adds, “For example, Haneul was my soulmate and there’s no doubt about it in my mind. But it ended, because it was time for it to end. I learned everything I had to learn with her, and she did the same. We couldn’t grow together anymore, so there was no point in staying together.”

Biting your lip, you nod. “I never thought of it that way. You ask anyone and they’ll tell you that a soulmate is unique.”

“It may be so to some people, but I find that way of thinking a bit unfair,” he shrugs. “Haneul found someone new. Wouldn’t it be unfair for me to say her new relationship is inferior to ours simply because we were soulmates? We were soulmates, but our time to be together has passed and she’s with the soulmate she’s supposed to be right now.”

You hum, tapping your fingers against your cheek. “I guess it does make sense.”

He shrugs, feigning smugness. “I am quite the smart man.”

“What about you?” You question, smiling at him, “Have you ever found a new soulmate after that relationship?”

Minho clears his throat, his gaze shifting to look at where his sock-clad feet poked out from underneath the comforter. You could swear you see a tiny smile on his lips.

“I think I did,” He answers with a questioning lilt. “There were some signs, and a lot of things that aligned.” His gaze lifts once more to meet your eyes as he continues, “Makes me think maybe I’ve found her.”

As you take in his words, jealousy rears its ugly head, the feeling almost swallowing you whole. You gnaw on your bottom lip. The way Minho made you feel at times was questionable at best, but you chalk it all up to your jealous nature. You’d always gotten jealous when your friends found new friendships or when they started relationships.

However, that feeling was a bit different from the one currently making you want to bite your lip until it bled out of sheer and petty jealousy.

You let out a heavy sigh, pushing all those thoughts into a neat little box inside your head and locking them up.

“You’re really lucky,” you tell him, and Minho cocks an eyebrow. “That’s why you think love can only be good, because your only experience with it was long-lasting and good until the very end. I’d much rather have love fizzle out than have it end in a way that ended me as well. That’s how it’s always been with me, and I guess that’s why I came to hate love a little bit.”

Minho smiles at you, a genuine smile that reaches his brown eyes. “Well, sometimes love lasts forever,” he asserts, “So you shouldn’t think about how it’s going to end.”

You can feel the pinwheel inside your chest spinning, causing your heart to skip a beat and your cheeks to blush pink. Forcing out a chuckle, you lie on your bed and pull the covers up to your nose.

“You’re back to your hopeless romantic ways.”

“I never stopped,” He corrects you. He lies down as well, facing you, his hand reaching out to turn off the lamp that sat on the bedside table. “Even when I thought you had a boyfriend,” Minho continues, “I was still able to be a hopeless romantic.”

You feel your eyes widen at his words, thanking the darkness that covers you both as confusion and shock swim in your eyes. Did Minho subtly admit he liked you? Were you reading too much into things? Why did this not scare you? It should scare you, should make you terrified, as this is the very thing you’ve been running away from.

You were probably over-analyzing his words.

But why did you hope that wasn’t the case?

The two of you wake up early, hitting the streets of Tokyo immediately after getting dressed. Minho’s list definitely made things easier, with you two hopping from place to place before crossing them out one by one on his phone. Your favorite so far had been the cat café you two went to for breakfast, where you spent the entire hour watching Minho petting and playing with the kittens, the smile on your lips so fond that it probably made you look stupid.

But as you walk around Inokashira Park, that quickly drops to second place on your mental list. It was a beautiful place, especially in the late afternoon sun. As soon as you arrived, Minho took your hand in his without a word. It was unexpected, to say the least, but you were even more surprised to find yourself liking the gesture. You squeezed his hand, smiling at him, before lacing your fingers together.

Your heart was racing so fast you were certain that damn pinwheel brought along a friend today.

After walking around for a bit, Minho abruptly stopped, letting go of your hand and moving to stand behind you. You furrowed your brows as his hands came to cover your eyes. With his lips incredibly close to your ears, he whispered, “I have a surprise. It’s a place that wasn’t on the list. A museum I think you’ll like.”

You felt goosebumps rise all over your body at the sound of his low voice coupled with his breath tickling your skin. You silently thanked the cold weather — had you not been wearing long sleeves, Minho would have seen the effect he had on you, and you would’ve had no other choice but to throw yourself in front of a taxi on the way back to the hotel.

The two of you waddled awkwardly, Minho still standing behind you with his hands over your eyes. He giggled the whole way to your destination. You were too immersed in not focusing on how his body brushed up against yours with every step you took to even think about laughing.

His broad chest so warm against your back, his arms wrapped around you, his lips grazing your neck once as he bent down to whisper something about the museum being just around the corner, and his lower body continuously brushing and rubbing against your ass as you two walked. You had to fight the urge to push your body against his every time that happened, wondering if that would be enough to get him hard.

After Minho’s supposed confession last night, your mind had truly thrown every bit of worry and shame you felt about being attracted to him out the window.

It felt almost liberating, being able to say fuck it and simply feel.

So you were attracted to Minho; why should it be a big deal? You shouldn't deprive yourself of these silly experiences just because love scares you.

Maybe being scared was okay sometimes. Maybe it was worth it for the right people.

Just as your mind was running wild with thoughts of Minho’s body pressed up against yours, his voice whispered in your ear again. You had arrived, he announced, removing his hands from your eyes.

As your eyes adjusted to the light, you made out the words on a wooden sign before you. Minho had taken you to the Ghibli Museum. Before you could stop yourself, you were throwing your arms around his neck with a gasp.

You could just kiss him at that moment. That was how happy you were.

After walking around the museum with a smile engraved onto your lips, your cheeks hurt in the best way possible. Minho hurried you as you looked through the overly expensive gift shop, reminding you that the swan paddle boats would be closing soon. You whined but ultimately had no choice but to leave the shop as he grabbed your hand and pulled you toward the exit. Mourning the loss of a Soot Sprite plush perfect for your collection, you grumbled to Minho about how he had no heart as you two ran across the park.

You made it just in time, being the last ones in line on the pier. Minho insisted on paying for your tickets, and you agreed only after he explained it would be your compensation for the loss of your precious plushie.

And now you sit beside him on a swan paddle boat, failing miserably at containing your giggles as Minho adjusts his life jacket.

“You know,” He starts with a dramatic sigh, “You’re not gonna be laughing if we crash and you drown.”

You poke his arm, making him look at you just as a smile spreads across his lips. “I’m only laughing ‘cause you look real cute.”

You begin to paddle, and it is surprisingly easy — especially because Minho is the one guiding the boat with a steering wheel. The scenery is quite dull because of the cold season, with most trees already bare of leaves and the sky a blend of pale blue and white.

“I wish it was spring,” Minho speaks beside you as if he’s read your thoughts. “The cherry blossoms are fucking gorgeous.”

You look over at him, his eyes fixed ahead as he steers the boat around the pond. His glasses reflect the pale sky and obscure his eyes, but you’re sure he’s blinking rapidly like he usually does whenever he’s focused.

“Did you come here with your ex-girlfriend in spring?” You blurt out.

Minho’s lips stretch into a grin as he turns to face you.

“No,” he answers simply. “But I want to come with you.”

It’s only then you realize he had been doing most of the work paddling, as he easily controls the speed at which the boat glides across the water, slowing down until you two are stopped at the edge of the pond.

Your mind races, but not as hard as your heart does.

“With me?”

“With you.”

His eyes are fixed on yours, and his left hand grips the steering wheel tightly. You part your lips, but only silence is stuck in your throat. Drawing yourself out of the impromptu staring contest the two of you had gotten into, your eyes shift down to stare at your purse which lay across your lap.

You softly utter the only two words your mind can conjure up. “Why me?”

“Because I like you,” Minho’s voice is also quiet. You hear him shuffling beside you, turning his body so he fully faces you. “I know you’re scared, and you feel like you’re protecting yourself, but I’m—” He cuts himself off abruptly, and your eyes shoot up to find him biting his lip, his brows furrowed. He lets out a sigh. “I like you so much I think I might implode if I do nothing about it.”

Your breath hitched audibly. There is still a part of you that’s screaming out run away, this is terrifying, you’re on your way to another heart-wrenching breakup — but that part has become so minuscule, so insignificant now, it feels like nothing but muffled background noise inside your head. Because a much bigger part of you is begging for you to just say, “Then do something about it.”

And he does.

Minho’s hand leaves the wheel and gingerly touches your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin before he closes the distance between you. It isn’t the first time you kiss Minho, but it is certainly the first time your entire being is fully enveloped in only him; from the way his slightly chapped lips still felt so soft against your own to how his strong hand finds your waist and pulls you closer to him.

And his taste. Minho coaxes your mouth open with his tongue and licks into it, your senses being taken over by the taste of the watermelon candy he’d been eating all day until you’re positively drunk on him. Your heart racing and your hands shaking like a teenager having their first kiss.

You go to grab his shirt, desperate to pull him even closer to you, but your hands collide with the damn life jacket he’s wearing. You whine into the kiss, annoyed, and Minho only chuckles against your lips. He bites your lower lip, pulling softly before releasing it and pressing another kiss to your pout.

“I take back what I said, the life jacket isn’t cute,” you mumble against his lips. His smile grows, and his lips crash against yours again, his hands tangling in your hair.

He groans into the kiss, barely pulling away before whispering, “Don’t wanna stop kissing you.”

You hum. “Well, you can kiss me anytime now.”

Minho’s lips spread into a grin, and he closes the small distance between you for one last kiss before he pulls away, your noses brushing. His eyes are dark yet soft, as if longing and affection had melted together.

“I want to be with you,” He says, “But I want you to think about it before you say anything because I know how scared you are of love. And if by the end of our trip I haven’t given you enough reasons to give me a chance, I’ll let you go and move on with my life. If you want to stay friends, I’ll happily do that. And if you never want to see me again, I’ll also respect that.”

Your heart swells with his words because Minho is the complete antithesis of everything your ex-boyfriends taught you that men were.

And, for the first time in so long, you feel the kind of nervousness that’s nothing but good. The kind that leaves you with trembling hands, a racing heart, and a dizzy head. The kind that only love can provide.

Despite his request, you’re eager to answer him right then and there, but just as you’re about to speak, the sky roars and dark clouds gather above. You jump in your seat at the sound, and Minho’s hands instinctively wrap around your shoulders and squeeze. You smile, simply nodding your head and giving his lips a small kiss.

Minho struggles a bit, but he’s eventually able to turn the paddle boat around, and you two begin to paddle back toward the pier. The light rain quickly becomes heavy raindrops drumming on the roof of the boat, and you dread the walk back to the hotel as neither of you thought to bring an umbrella.

“Y'know,” Minho starts. “There’s a myth here in Japan that says if you ride this boat with a girlfriend, then you’ll break up soon. I kinda always believed that.”

You let out a chuckle. “Really?”

He hums, nodding his head. “So I’m choosing to also believe that if you ride it with someone you like, they will become your girlfriend soon.”

Minho turns to look at you with a smile as you stop at the pier, removing his life jacket and exiting the boat without another word. You bite the inside of your cheek in a failed attempt at holding back a smile. Minho helps you out of the boat, his hand taking yours and pulling you toward him gently.

You two run back to the hotel, Minho holding you close to him with his hand around your waist. The streets are mostly empty as people squeeze under bus stops and shop awnings to shelter from the rain, and it almost feels like you and Minho are the only people in Tokyo that night.

You two giggle the whole way to the hotel. Even when you are struck with the realization that the power has shut off on the entire street upon arriving, you simply turn to each other and laugh even more.

You clumsily manage to take a brief shower in the darkness, changing into your sleep clothes as quickly as you can. You realize with a grimace that if your room was cold before, with the shitty hotel heater on, it’s basically turned into an icebox now.

Wrapping yourself up in your comforter, you shiver with a groan just as Minho walks out of the bathroom.

“Bet you miss that shitty heater now, huh?” He jokes, and you faintly make out his silhouette in the dim light of the moon coming from the window.

You let out another groan. “I'm gonna freeze to death tonight. I've made peace with that. Thaw me with a hairdryer in the morning, please.”

Minho chuckles, sitting on his bed as he checks his phone. You make out his features in the moonlight coming from the window, and he’s wearing another sweater, black with more cats printed on it.

Such a cozy, warm-looking sweater. You curse yourself inwardly for only packing t-shirts to sleep.

As he locks his phone, an idea hits you, and your words are faster than your thoughts — as they always seem to be whenever you’re around Minho.

“Can I lay with you for a bit?” You ask, “Just for a bit, until I get warm? My bed is right under this damn window, and I don’t have any sweaters I can sleep in, and I know I joked about making peace with freezing but—”

Minho cuts you off by calling out your name with a chuckle. “It's okay. You don’t need to make up a thousand excuses. I'm cold, too,” He says simply, scooting to the side to make room for you in his bed. “Come here.”

You smile, ripping the covers from your body quickly like a band-aid and all but jumping from your mattress to his. Minho instructs you to lie on the left side of the bed, facing the wall. You furrow your brows.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “It’s like the sidewalk thing. So I can protect you if a serial killer comes into our room.”

“Oh, so a serial killer’s gonna come into our room?” You ask, a teasing lilt in your voice as you scoot on the bed and slip under the comforter.

“Well, I—” Minho stammers, pausing with a sigh. He removes his glasses and places them on the bedside table before he continues, “I don’t know, okay? I just… wanna take care of you in every way possible. Even in this weird scenario that my mind made up.”

His words slip out of his lips quickly, much like yours do when you’re nervous and can’t make yourself stop talking. You wonder if your habit is rubbing off on him, and you can’t help but smile.

As Minho settles into bed, you feel your body stiffen up. The two of you lay on your backs next to each other in the cramped bed, and you feel like you can’t move. Hyunjin was the first guy you ever slept next to, and even then, it was after you two had already had sex, so there was no room for feeling awkward. With Minho, everything feels so new. If kissing him had made your hands shake, laying next to him makes your whole body tremble.

You lay like that for a while, watching as the thunder lights up the ceiling until Minho turns to lie on his side.

“Wouldn’t we get warmer if we cuddled?” He trails off in a whisper, clearing his throat after his words leave his mouth.

You open your mouth to answer but know you’ll only end up word-vomiting again with how nervous you feel, so you simply nod, turning so you’re facing Minho as well.

His arms quickly find your waist, pulling you closer to him until your noses are touching, and you feel his breath on your lips as he lets out a sigh. Before you can make sense of what’s happening, Minho presses a slow, open-mouthed kiss to your lips, making your mind go hazy. You two stare at each other for a beat, your lips agape and eyes wandering through each other’s features until he breaks the silence.

“You make me nervous,” he whispers, taking your hand and guiding it towards his chest. You feel his heart beating quickly through the thick fabric of his sweater. “In the best way possible.”

You smile, whispering back, “You make me nervous, too.”

Clutching at the fabric of his sweater, you pull him closer to you, slotting your lips together once more. Minho’s hands hesitate, his left hand barely touching your back before he changes his mind and grazes your shoulder with his touch, only to settle for cupping your cheek. You smile into the kiss, taking his hand and placing it firmly on your waist. He grips the fabric of your shirt just as you did and brings your body flush against his.

The kiss is hurried, as if you two will be forced apart tomorrow and this is your only chance to feel each other. Minho licks the seam of your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you gasp. His firm grip on your waist, his body pressed against yours so tightly that you can feel his heartbeat thumping against your chest, and how with every stroke of his tongue, he devours you almost greedily — it’s downright impossible to keep the whine that forms in your throat from slipping out, Minho’s mouth swallowing the muffled sound.

And then he’s pulling away, and you’re left chasing his lips. He lets out a breathy chuckle at that.

“Let’s go to sleep, hm?” He suggests, his voice breathless. You can’t help but wonder if you practically moaning while simply kissing him had made him uncomfortable, and you inwardly berate yourself, mortification washing over you.

So you only nod, turning to face the wall so you can properly cuddle this time. Minho wraps an arm around your waist, and you wait for him to pull you closer, but he never does. You furrow your brows. Was it that bad? You can’t be faulted for reacting like you did, especially with how he kissed you. So you take it into your own hands to shift closer to his body. Your lips part as you feel his hard member pressing against your lower back.

Oh.

So that’s what’s going on.

You bite back a grin, feeling Minho tense up behind you.

“And here I thought you were like a romantic lead in a PG-13 anime,” you joke, smiling as he chuckles, clearly more at ease.

He uses the hand that had been resting against your stomach to pull you even closer to him, pressing his body against yours. “I am romantic,” He whispers, lips close to your ear. You only then realize he’s hovering over you. “But I’m still human.”

You fight back the urge to shudder at how his voice drops an octave, all low and soft, and, god, how his breath grazes your neck.

You search your brain for something to say but come up empty. Being nervous has rendered you speechless for the first time in your life.

“Let’s sleep now, okay?” Minho presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “I’ll lie far—”

“I can help you,” you blurt out, turning to face him. Going to sleep is the last thing you want right now. “If you want.”

His eyes wander across your face as he pulls on his bottom lip. “I don’t want to rush things.”

“There are ways to do this that aren’t… rushing.”

Minho hums, but his eyes are now fixed on your lips. You move to lie on your back, and he slowly climbs on top of you.

“As long as it’s okay with you, I don’t care what we do,” he whispers. You smile, pushing his black hair away from his face with your fingers.

“It’s more than okay with me,” You answer simply, using your hand on his hair to guide him down into yet another kiss.

You can feel him still hesitating, so you grab a fistful of that silly sweater of his and pull him closer to you until your bodies are flush against each other.

“Can I touch you?” You ask, breaking the kiss. Minho nods hastily.

“Yes, please,” he groans, “I’m gonna die if you don’t.”

With a breathy chuckle, you move your hand between your two bodies, cupping him through his sweatpants; he’s even harder now, and you subconsciously bite your lip. He closes his eyes, his left hand resting on your waist before squeezing lightly as he hides his face in the crook of your neck with a shaky sigh. It might simply be because it’s your first time being intimate together, but Minho’s timidness is genuinely endearing to you.

Your palm grinds against him gingerly, and his body trembles under your touch. His hand travels from your waist toward your lower stomach, and you let out a quiet gasp as his fingers toy with the hem of your shirt. He lifts his head off your neck, his face so close to yours you can feel his unsteady breathing on your lips.

“Can I touch you, too?” He whispers, and you nod a bit too eagerly.

“If you don’t, I think I’ll die too.”

Minho grins, his head dipping lower until his lips are pressed against yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. You’d be lying if you said finding Minho so hard after only kissing you hadn’t turned you on — kissing him alone also made you more aroused than you were willing to admit. But you were more than ready to go to sleep without doing anything about it after offering to help him, so the fact that he wants to do the same for you makes your head spin. This was not on your bingo card of things that could happen during this trip.

He pulls your shirt up slightly, only enough for him to slip his hand inside your sweatpants. He hesitates twice before cupping you through your underwear. His dark eyes meet yours, whispering against your lips, “You’re fucking soaking through your panties, and you weren’t gonna tell me?”

You gasp at his words, clenching around nothing. Wasn’t he shy just two minutes ago? Your mouth opens to answer him, but your brain is far too cloudy to form any coherent sentence, so you settle on a nod. He hums, pressing a kiss to your agape lips.

Once you feel his thumb tentatively brush against your clit through the thin fabric, you find the courage to slip your hand inside the waistband of his sweatpants, your fingers immediately brushing against his member. Minho shudders at the touch, his eyes still fixed on yours.

Your brows shoot up at the fact that he had foregone wearing boxers, and he chuckles lightly at your reaction.

“I never wear underwear to bed, so don’t think I was trying to seduce you,” he jokes.

“Too late,” you hum, “I was seduced the moment I saw your bright orange cat sweater.”

Minho grins, sucking your lower lip as he pushes your panties to the side painfully slowly, his middle finger gliding from your entrance toward your clit and spreading your arousal. With a sigh, you bring one leg to wrap around his waist, and he adjusts himself so he’s properly hovering over you. You take this opportunity to slide his sweatpants down his hips, his hard cock finally free from its confines. He groans low in his throat, his tongue suddenly licking into your open mouth as his right hand intertwines with your left, your fingers locking together. He presses your clasped hands onto the mattress beside your head.

Your hand now glides through his length, the palm of your hand beginning to rub at the head of his cock and Minho sucks in a breath, breaking the kiss, his eyes remaining closed. Pressing your thumb to the slit, you gather as much precum as you can and spread it through his member. You quickly find that it’s not enough, wanting it wetter and messier and—

Minho whines as you stop touching him, eyes shooting open. Bringing your hand to your lips, you lick a stripe on your palm and let a glob of spit fall on it before finding his cock again, wet both with your saliva and his precum as you begin to stroke him gingerly. With a quiet moan, Minho’s hips buck up at the touch and he kisses your lips again. You giggle into the kiss, inwardly thanking Hyunjin for teaching you that guys love sloppy shit like this and, in turn, making you realize you do too.

You avert your eyes from his intense gaze as his finger moves to find your entrance, pushing in slowly before moving at a steady pace.

He squeezes your hand. “Look at me,” his voice is all but a whisper, low and hurried. You turn to lock your eyes on his once more, immediately biting your lips to stop a moan from slipping out of your lips as his thumb begins to rub your clit in circular motions, and he slips another finger inside of your aching cunt. It was getting increasingly difficult to keep yourself from vocally begging him not to stop.

You focus on your own hand as you stroke his cock, your steady pace gradually quickening. Minho’s pace mirrors yours, and soon the small room fills with the noise of his finger swiftly pumping in and out of you mixed with the sound of your hand stroking him.

“What do you like?” Minho asks suddenly, his breath hitching as you tighten your fist around his cock. Your mind is far too clouded by desire and pleasure to fully comprehend, so you hum, your brows furrowing. He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours with a quiet moan and curling his fingers inside you, causing your eyes to shut tightly and a whimper to escape your closed lips. “Look at me, baby,” he repeats himself, his voice firm and his shy demeanor having completely shifted. You slowly open your eyes. “What do you like? I — fuck,” He curses as your hand twists on the head of his cock. “Wanna make you feel good, tell me.”

You’re definitely not used to being vocal about what you want or like during sex; your ex-boyfriends always too selfish, and Hyunjin too confident for you to even have had the opportunity to do so. Coupled with just how good you felt, you know you won’t possibly be able to speak a word without moaning the way you’re trying so hard to avoid. You settle for guiding his hand, which was tangled in yours, under your shirt. Minho immediately massages your breast, his thumb caressing your nipple as his eyes find yours once more.

You feel as if his gaze is setting you ablaze, his eyes boring into you. It felt as if all his desire was accumulated in his dark eyes, clearly visible in how he watches you like he’s drinking in every last drop of you through his stare. You’ve never had someone look at you like this before; it makes you feel so wanted, so desired, as if the only thing Minho could ever need in this moment is you. That alone makes your body tremble, your left hand holding onto his shoulder for purchase as you feel you might float away at any second.

If you were told a couple of hours ago that something as simple as having Minho’s fingers inside you would have you so euphoric, you most definitely would have laughed.

Minho groans into your open mouth, his breathing heavy and his brows drawn together tightly. You force your lips shut once more as his thumb rubs your bundle of nerves more hastily. Your hand leaves his shoulder to tangle in his black hair, futilely attempting to tug him even closer to you before you kiss his agape lips that spill out groans and sighs like a mantra.

It’s almost all-consuming. His fingers inside of you, the warmth of his hand on your breast, his cock pulsating beneath your touch, his hot breaths that fill your lungs as he sighs into your kiss, and his eyes — his damn eyes that look at you as if he wants to eat you whole.

You finally allow yourself to moan as you feel your orgasm building up, whimpering his name against his lips as your strokes on his cock turn messy and desperate among the copious amounts of precum. Minho growls, pulling your hand from his hair — his grip on your wrist so firm it stings a little — before he pins you down to the mattress, fingers messily intertwining with yours again.

This time, you’re unable to restrain your whimper at his actions; Minho had always been gentle and sweet, something as simple as him pinning you down to the bed has you clenching around his fingers. This duality of his you just discovered is something that stirs up curiosity inside of you.

“I’m gonna come,” He announces with a sigh, his hand squeezing yours. You can only nod as you melt around his fingers, your whole body trembling. Minho soon follows, his cum spilling into your hand and your shirt, a low guttural sound leaving his throat.

His eyes only leave yours as he leans down to connect your lips again, giving you small kisses before a stifled laugh escapes him. You furrow your brows, and Minho grins.

“Sorry for getting your shirt dirty,” He mumbles against your lips, the two of you unwilling to move for the time being.

You shake your head with a chuckle. Although you cringe slightly as you feel the fabric of your shirt stick to your stomach.

“It’s okay.”

Minho shifts on top of you, and you only then realize his fingers remain inside of you. Your body jolts faintly at the stimulation, his name falling from your lips in the form of a whine. He grins at you again, all lopsided and handsome, before bringing his hand to his lips. You watch with agape lips as his tongue flicks out to lap at his fingers before sucking on them with a hum, his eyes locked onto yours once more.

Once again with this newfound duality of his. He’s pure romance and gentlemanly behavior, but seemingly so alluring and shameless in bed. The way he looks at you alone makes you clench around nothing as if you didn’t come mere minutes ago. And it’s such a simple act — you can’t count on one hand the number of times you watched as Hyunjin licked his fingers clean after being inside of you — but the contrast of his calm and endearing everyday personality and him suddenly pinning you to the bed or licking your cum off his fingers while looking into your eyes makes this entirely different.

You would’ve never expected this from Minho, and it makes your brain stir up with thoughts of what he would be like while eating you out or while fucking you. Would he pin you to the bed again or pull your hair, or maybe—

The sound of him clearing his throat interrupts you from your thoughts, and you only now realize you had been staring at the ceiling while fantasizing about Minho fucking you. Great.

Once your eyes meet, he’s quick to avert his gaze. “I will, uh, pay to wash your shirt when we — when we get back,” Minho stumbles over his words, his eyes now fixed on your shoulder. “If you want. But, like, I got it dirty, so…” He trails off, and you purse your lips to muffle the giggle that bubbled up your throat as it seems all the confidence he had only minutes ago had dissipated into dust and left his body.

He was back to his usual self. You can’t help but smile as you realize you adore any version of Minho.

He pushes himself off of you, muttering that he’ll be back before disappearing into the small bathroom. You remove your soiled shirt, wiping your hand on it, only to blanche at the sight of the logo printed on the fabric. It’s one of Hyunjin’s shirts that you had stolen ages ago. You mumble a string of apologies to him as you pull the covers off your body. After discarding it on your bed, you change into the first t-shirt you fish out of your backpack, worried Minho might come into the room and see your naked chest — as ludicrous as that was, seeing as he was knuckles deep inside of you less than twenty minutes ago.

Minho returns to the bedroom just as you’re closing the zipper on your bag. He silently takes your hand in his and wipes it with a towel, his head lowered as his eyes focus on his actions. You let out a breathy chuckle.

“There’s really nothing there anymore,” you inform him. “I wiped most of your cum on my shirt.” You nod toward the crumpled-up fabric thrown across the bed. Minho’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. He lets out a small noise, nodding his head slowly before ultimately pressing his lips together. Under the faint moonlight that lights up the room, you almost miss how his cheeks dust a shade of pink. You smile, pressing a kiss to his nose. Minho hums, smiling back at you and dropping the towel on top of your shirt.

Soon, you find yourself back in bed with him, Minho pulling you into his chest, his hands now offering you pleasure by gingerly massaging your scalp. You are almost asleep — listening to his heartbeat through his sweater, smiling at the soft snores that escape his parted lips — when it dawned on you.

You notice just how different being with Minho had been. How kissing him alone made your hands shake, how even without being fully intimate, the way you felt with him tonight was incomparable.

Minho’s words from months ago about how sex with someone you love eclipses the feeling of sex with any other person linger in your memory. You hum, a smile on your lips as your eyes flutter closed again.

Before they shoot open.

Because holy shit.

If it felt that way with Minho, it can only mean you’ve fallen for him.

Awakening to the sound of the heater’s soft hum, you feel Minho’s arm tightly around your waist, keeping your body pressed against his. His gentle breathing brushes against the nape of your neck, and you cautiously turn your head, careful not to wake him, only to be greeted by his tender eyes already gazing at you with a soft smile. Cuddling with Minho is another thing that feels different. You feel safe, adored from how he holds you to the way his eyes look at you.

As he realizes you’re also awake, he suddenly turns to lie on his back, staring at the ceiling as his ears slowly turn a light shade of red. You frown, chuckling a bit at his actions, before settling yourself across his chest.

“The power came back a while after you fell asleep,” he explains.

You giggle as you assume maybe he’s shy because of what happened last night. But your smile fades as your mind begins to overthink, your subconscious screaming that maybe you should feel shy, embarrassed. Weren’t you too easy? Letting him touch you like that after just a few kisses. Does Minho think you came into bed with him for that reason?

You think back to the last boyfriend you had, who berated you for how ‘whorish’ it had been when you asked to have sex with him instead of waiting for him to initiate it. And how your first boyfriend would tell you — every chance he got — that you acted like a slut, touching him as if you knew it would make him have sex with you. How, at the end of your relationship, he told you maybe you acted that way because you knew that sex was all you were good for. How another ex had laughed as he told you that even though you went through so many guys, you still managed to be a terrible fuck, and that was the reason he had to cheat on you.

There were also the murmurs around your school whenever you started a new relationship. Another one? She’s boy hopping so much she’s gonna get through our entire class in less than a year. Some girls just can’t stand to be alone, it’s kind of sad.

At some point, you had detangled yourself from Minho, now lying on your side and looking out the window. You never understood why so many people thought that way. You had five boyfriends from fifteen to eighteen, and in each of these relationships, you were either cheated on or broken up with in a less-than-pleasant way. But you did have the awful habit of jumping into relationships with little thought, often because you felt incomplete without a romantic partner — as romantic as high school relationships can be, anyway. Being single and content for almost four years now, you were proud to have worked on that.

But you still can’t shake off the feeling that maybe you were a bit too… forward. You were single, sure, but you were quick to jump at the opportunity to have Hyunjin as a fuck buddy. Perhaps people were right about that.

“Is everything okay?” Minho’s voice pulls you away from your racing thoughts. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, nodding.

“Yeah, I just zoned out.”

Sitting upright on the bed, you stretch with a sigh. Minho takes your hand before you can realize it, placing it on his chest and gently playing with your fingers, his eyes still glued to the ceiling. You gnaw on your bottom lip, pulling at the skin until it stings.

“I’m sorry if I was too forward last night,” you blurt out. Minho’s gaze shifts to focus on you, confusion swimming in his brown eyes and his hands halting around yours. Oh god, why did you say that?

“Forward?” The question trails off his lips, his eyebrows coming together in a frown.

With a sigh, you grimace at your own words. “Yeah, forward, like I was throwing myself at you. I’m sorry if it came off that way. I swear I’m not…”

“You’re not…?”

“You know what I mean, Minho,” you mumble, but his eyes remain swarmed with confusion.

“I really don’t.”

You roll your eyes in exasperation, annoyed not at him but at yourself for having brought this up in the first place.

“You know, Minho,” you groan, “Forward, like, slutty. Like I asked to come to your bed just so you would fuck me.”

His expression softens, his eyes widening. He sits up as well, his hand still clutching yours.

“Why the fuck would I think that?” He asks matter-of-factly. “What happened last night was completely natural. We made out, we got horny, we took care of it together. You didn’t even ask me to touch you, I did it because I was dying to do it. You weren’t forward — you weren’t slutty.”

You feel the heavy veil of worry lift off your shoulders at his words. It was definitely going to take a while for you to work on that aspect of your trauma. This had never been an issue with Hyunjin since you were pursuing nothing more than a sexual relationship with him — things were different with Minho.

Minho was the complete opposite.

After countless moments of your heart racing and your hands trembling because of him, you finally confess to yourself that your affection for Minho extends well beyond platonic feelings.

With a small smile, you slowly nod your head. “Sorry for bringing this up, I just… didn’t want you to think badly of me.”

Minho smiles, placing a kiss on the back of your hand. “That wouldn’t have made me think badly of you. I’m not some Victorian man who thinks women should be burned at the stake for showing their ankles,” he chuckles, and you bite back a laugh. “Even if you had been slutty, so what? I’d like that just as much.”

You playfully hit his shin under the comforter as he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

Minho was unquestionably different.

“We gotta get to the airport soon,” he says with a sigh, stretching his arms over his head, carrying your hand along the way. “I had to book the earliest flight I could to save up some money.”

With a frown, you retrieve your phone from under your pillow and check for the time: seven-thirty a.m. You feel a pang of guilt as you recall how you are essentially on this trip for free.

“Why didn’t Chan help with the tickets?”

Minho bites the inside of his cheek before his lips stretch into a barely-there grin. “Chan was never coming to this trip,” he blurts out. You feel your lips fall agape.

“What?”

“I… planned this trip by myself. Only for you and me,” he explains. “I wanted to get far away from everything that distracted us so I could concentrate on showing you the good side of love like I’d been trying to do with all those fruitless attempts at taking you on dates.”

You take in his words and find yourself smiling at the gesture — the white lie Minho told pales in comparison to everything else he has done for you, both during this trip and since you met him. Truthfully, you didn’t even realize he had been taking you on dates. You mentally slap yourself in the head for that, believing he simply wanted to spend time with you as a friend.

“I’ll pay you back for my part of the trip as soon as—”

Minho’s voice interrupts you with a drawn-out ‘no.’ He smiles as you stare at him, puzzled.

“This entire trip must’ve been so expensive, Minho.”

But he’s unrelenting, shaking his head with a squeeze of your hand.

“I told you,” he says simply. “I do stupid shit when I’m in love.”

♡ taglist: @notevenheretbh1 @malunar28replies @jazziwritesthings @finchyyy @bloom-ings @linocz @minhochaos @lastgreatamericandynasty1

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