#How Did You Get Your Ex Boyfriend Back
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k6tzie · 3 months ago
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COD P☆RN LINKS | PT. 3
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ghost: always so quiet and reserved, seeing you like this is refreshing. so humane having ur guts rearranged after doubting your lieutenants skills! dove, you're so needy. but luckily for you, you have a patient, big bf came back from prices' baby shower now u and si want a baby of ur own, but u can't wait:( doughy ass bouncing on his long cock that no one's sucked in over a year, thankfully now ur here! sharing the captains daughter with soap<3 trusting is hard for him, so once he has you, he doesn't wanna let go warm winter fuck with ur gentle boy price: once you taught olderbf!price how to make hotter videos, he thinks he's so much cooler but that old man lives within him💔i mean look how he's holding the phone! you feel a big, throbbing thing in your tummy, hopefully he doesn't press down on it D: when u took him to meet ur parents, you just looked too good not to fuck afterwards :( as much as he loves his quiet girls, he can't say no to a bubbly one night stand now can he he didn't wanna have to do this but this IS what bad girls get... dadsfriend!price taking you upstairs during the bbq. there's so many people so no one will hopefully notice ur gone... soap: totally something soap would do, fucking you levitating 😭 first time having a crush this intense, taking sneaky photos of you, drawing you in his sketchbook, leaving you little gifts anonymously - now that you gave him a chance, he's too shocked to even do anything! honestly his dream is hot gf x loser guy he's a messy boy who likes his sex quick! so so much cum dripping out, it's like your boys' in heaven filthy gym partner can't keep his hands to himself only one person can eat you this well when you're sick, soap! gaz: your drunk sex was so good, you won't forget it even when you're sober <3 appreciating that pussy with the love and tongue it deserves so wet and tight like ur ex boyfriend did nothing at all smh, must've been tiny deeeeep in ur gfs womb! pretty boy barely ever gets angry, but when price has been on his back the whole week, and now you're giving him attitude - he can't take it anymore! hot belly bulge - who would've thought from the serene, goofy guy? graves: ah, so THAT'S how you passed recruitment i see, interesting... what a baby, never been with a real woman. actually a very soft, sensual man. don't mistake him as rough cuz of how he acts at work lucky shadow of the week gets to record the barracks bunny and graves kept trying to draw milk out of you but he didn't realise not everyone just...lactates :(he can't stop rewatching this video y'all took, how your greedy pussy just swallows his dick whole :o purposely just teasing you so he can see u angry konig: an efficient way to wake up his beautiful baby✹ his cold tongue and your warm socks make an interesting contrastđŸ€” he caught you masturbating all by yourself and you didn't seem to reach ur full potential :( loser!konig coded, once he finally gets his rough hands on you, it's hard letting a beauty like you go ruined ur cute little panties smh, greedy big boy mean colonel punishing his secret fuck buddy after he found out you've started talking to another person💱 bonus!!: surprise ;)
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@xtrrdnrypotato @livingdead-g1rl
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screampied · 6 months ago
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‘ HIT IT LIKE IT'S ALL MINEEE ?! ★
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𝜗℘ feat. toji, gojo, nanami, geto, sukuna. jjk men as ex boyfriends ‘n how they fuck.
cw. fem! reader, ex bf trope, unprotected, possessive themes, brat taming, p spanking, manhandling, size kink, brēeding, ƍral (f! receiving), impact play, degradation, praise, squĂ­rting, doggy, mÄ«ssionary, mating press, overstim, petnames.
wc. 4.8k
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GETO ☆ the sloppy ex.
“said ‘m sorry,” he’d hiss, watching as your legs voluntarily snake around his neck. geto’s got the most smug grin, pretty batted lashes fluttering as he’s being fed his favorite meal that he’s been craving for so so long..
but he’s not sorry. in fact after every argument, it would always end up like this. he’d always make it up to you by eating you out, savoring your taste and giving you the most toe-curling climax. it was the least he could do, right? scorching hot breaths of his fan against your drooling folds as you sat upright against the edge of the mattress. you’re whining, gripping at his unkempt, black strands tightly as your thighs jitter. “mhm, could never stay away from my girl for too long.”
you vigorously shudder, feeling his crooked, pink lips ghost against your soddened folds. with geto, he was a messy eater. you were the only person who could get him on his knees. “i’m very sorry, pretty,” he whispers against your cunt, lengthy tongue swirling and delving deeper inside. you whimper, your grasp against his hair growing tighter and firmer. his darkened roots rise up from the secure grip and you start to grind against his face. “ohhh, my. seems like you missed me too,” and with three wet kisses pressing onto your swollen entrance, he glances up at you. humming, he swipes his nose against your pussy before lolling his tongue out allll the way to show you how messy he was for you. “or you jus’ missed my tongue, huhhh.”
he was so smug, so fucking smug. even whilst being buried right between your thighs, slurping you up like he hasn’t eaten a proper good meal in ages. “s- sugu,” you moan, your sudden attitude disappearing the moment he whisks his tongue against your nub. his other favorite girl, your eyebrows that was once arched from arguing was now curling together from such calamitous pleasure. he’s so sloppy too, taking every few pausing seconds to spit right into your cunt, lapping it up with his tongue, only to spit right back on it again. “f- fuckin’ hate you.”
“yeah yeah,” he whistles against your cunt unfazed — warm breath tickling against your folds that seep with slick juices. so wet, he pries your legs open even further with two hands before making a sheeny trail of saliva with his long, lengthy tongue licking from top to bottom. he stares dead at you too, dark sable irises never leave yours while he’s enjoying his treat. a free hand creeps between your inner thighs and he starts to ease a single thick finger inside. “i take back my sorry then, baby.”
your back arches - feeling his thickset digit easily soak into your clingy walls. you’re already coating a majority of it with your slick, rutting your hips against his mouth and his finger now. the stretch had you feral.
you despised his sassy mouth, and yet he’s always despised yours. the perfect match. if it was anything you and geto could come to terms with, it was the simple fact that you both craved each other. crave was a strong word, but it was the right word.
“s- suguru, fuck— i feel something, ‘s gonna come,” you babble, feeling an unfamiliar sensation bubble up into the deep pits of your lower abdomen. it felt like an intense, spiraling pressure building up before gradually starting to press down onto you. your jaw drops, feeling like you were about to gush right out. his tongue returns to slurp against you, luxuriating your sweet, syrupy taste as you’re practically just fucking your cunt onto his face. he darkly chuckles, feverish breath going against your dripping folds before he literally makes out with it. “s- suguru did you hear me?”
“oh, i heard ya, baby,” he whispers, another finger vanishing into your tight walls. with black strands of messy hair running all down his face, he french kisses your cunt thrice, groaning at the feeling of you pulsing right on his lips. “i just don’t care,” and your legs shake out of nowhere. you felt like you were floating — cloud nine, all the clouds, you felt like you were flying.
your mouth remains open, stupefied and all. with a squealing gasp, you drag his face further against you before spotting a shimmery trail of your own slick running down his chin. again though, geto doesn’t care. in fact, he licks it clean with no shame, swiping a thumb across the crack of his lips before he starts to spank your pussy. “well?” he eyes you, his voice growing low. “you gonna make a mess or not?” pat. “i’m waiting,” pat. “oh c’monnn, don’t tell me you’re scared ‘ta make a mess. we’ve known each other for how long, princess?”
and before you could reply with a snarky comeback — it happens. you end up gushing right on his face, watching it trickle all down his chin and your eyes roll back in nirvana. everything feels so quick, you’re barely able to breathe regular breaths as your eyes grow droopy and your legs break into a fit of spasms. “suguru, suguuu,” you pant, losing your grip in his hair. and like the sloppy eater he was, he laps your cunt clean. savoring the taste, savoring you.
“did you just squirt on my face?” he rasps, pulling his fingers out to watch the mess dribble straight out. you’re so wet, just a puddle and you were laying right in it. you don’t respond and he rolls his eyes, giving your cunt an ‘encouraging’ swat with his palm before purring. “mhm, how ‘bout you do that again? for old times sake, messy girl.”
TOJI ☆ the nasty ex.
“y’know the drill, babygirl. bend over. uh huh, gimme that slutty arch like always, attaaa girl,” toji grits. intently, hooded green eyes are staring at your back. you moan, feeling just how quickly your body submits. toji could never get enough of you. the second your gummy walls swallow his girth, you suck your teeth in salacious rapture. it’s almost carnal. toji groans, gazing right before his eyes as your back slumps forward just for him ‘n only him. “mhm, good girl. sluttin’ y’rself out all fuckin’ on me.”
the crimson red sheets bristle against your skin as he drags your hips closer - raspy breaths pour from his lips as he’s gradually plummeting his thick cock inside of your grippy, welcoming cunt.
oh, you missed him. but more importantly — you missed his cock. if it was anything toji knew how to do, it was to fuck. you whimper, immediately bawling up the sheets into the smooth pads of your palms with your hands imitating a fist shape.
he’s just so fucking big, you feel the fat of his girth stretch you open so good that your mouth starts to salivate. “ngh, fuck toji,” you mewl out in desperate sobs, smelling his loud cheap cologne that never fails to waft right into your nostrils. within an instant, his rude sharp hips snap into you meanly. your jaw hangs open as he’s shoving such lengthy inches into you at once. “mmhhh, right there, ‘toj.”
“still the same cock drunk ‘lil slut i know ‘n love,” he huffs, watching how your body responds to his crazed rhythm. again, he’s so rude, just a single piston of his hips and you’re a slobbering, numb mess. toji always had the stamina of a horse, you feel the pulsing sensation pulsate on his angered cockhead and you shiver. “missed my favorite pussy,” he gruffs, dark thin brows curling together. “fuck back against me, good girl. make me fuckin’ proud, princess.”
you’re a whiny mess. with such ease, toji snatches out orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. nobody knew your body like he did. he left you in a stupid state, so stupid to where the only words you’re murmuring out is just blurbs ‘n blurbs of incoherent babbles.
“fuuuck,” you suck at the air, feeling how every few seconds he’d bring a mean swat toward your ass. oh, that was always his favorite part. the way your cute recoil always bounces back against him, always responding to his palm. and as he’s continuing to mercilessly plunge his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. it takes no time before you’re creaming down his cock. “t- tojiiiii.”
the moment you’ve successfully milked him dry however, he never fails to plug you full of his hot, sticky cum. you gasp, hearing the wet squelches overflow into your walls. your back still arches itself forward as he’s spewing such stringy ropes deep into the depths of your womb. such a mess,
“aht aht, bring that ass back here,” he lowly snickers, dragging your hips back into him once you try to crawl away. “saved so much cum ‘n i wanna give ya all of it, baby. mhm, let’s listen to it together, yeah.”
you whine, feeling his hovering weight press right up against your ass.
toji swipes a thumb against your entrance, sloshing sounds exiting right from your pussy. he makes you listen to how filthily soaked you were, purposely growing silent. his thumb was fat, it curls its way against your sweet ‘lil labia before he gathers a nice amount of dribbling cum near the print of his finger.
“fuck, ‘s pretty,” he grouses through gnawed teeth. you’re taken by surprise once he flips you over to where you flop right on your back. landing with a surprised oof, you’re met with the hungry eyes of your ex-boyfriend who’s not exactly done yet. “go on. spread ‘em,” he does a swift hand motion with one hand, flicking his tongue against his thumb with the other. you felt your cunt shamelessly twitch at the sight and you moan once he dives right in between your trembly legs. “good girl, now lemme see what ‘m workin’ with.”
the moment he pried your legs open—he wastes no time, smearing his face right against your sloppy cunt. “s- shiiiit, toji,” you sob out a sweet syllable of his name, feeling the edge of his scar tickle against your swollen puffed folds. his long tongue slithers its way down your full slit, relishing in your taste, your taste of his cum. he didn’t care, his tongue happily laps up the honeyed mixture of both sweets that dance on his tongue. you whine, grabbing a fistful of his hair, hearing him groan once you give his head a light tug. glancing down, he spits on your cunt, swirling his tongue around before slurping you right up, cleaning you. “toji y- you’re so nasty.”
with a teasing him, he pats your twitching cunt before the pat turns into a rough spank. “gotta be nasty ‘ta deal with a cunt this wet,” and he gives your folds a single kiss before flipping you over again. you moan, still feeling remnants of cum ooze out of your entrances before he smacks a broad palm against your left ass cheek. “mhm, now now. be a good girl ‘n bend over one more time. wanna clean ya up from the back. just like i always used to, babygirrrrl.”
GOJO ☆ the annoying ex.
he’s just as stubborn as you, maybe even worse. “yada yada less talkin’ more riding, sweet thing,” and you moan once you feel a stinging smack ghost against your ass. you’re riding him, swirling your hips around him back ‘n forth as you’re pressed up against his bare chest in classic cowgirl. one hand of his grips onto your waist, watching you throw your hips back in such obscene rhythm. the roll, you’re so pretty like this, especially whenever you were on top. your knees bury themselves into his thighs as you’re bouncing up and down his cock, taking in many inches of him effortlessly. “you’re so hot,” gojo smugly grins at you, continuously bouncing his left thigh just to see your lewd reaction. you loudly mewl out at the staticky friction, feeling him pump into you again ‘n again. “heyy, pretty girl.” he slyly says as you finally meet his stare. gojo brings a hand against your ass, gripping it tightly before spanking it again - his way of telling you to go faster.
with satoru gojo as an ex, you’d never hear the end of it. hear the end of him,
he craves you more than anything. even better if you let him fuck you just for the night. but that night turns into one, then two, then three.
he’s purely infatuated, your pussy never fails to make him drunk. your arousal was always his favorite dessert. whining against his ear, your tremulous hips create haste a bit quicker as you shift your weight onto your bent knees. “s- satoru, mhh. gonna cum again, fuckk.”
“aw, already baby?” he coos to you in a faux, caring tone. gojo grabs both of your hips, peering intently at the way your abdomen tenses in front of him. you’re gaping, recognizing the stretch like no other. you’re so pretty, your tongue rolls itself out as you’re preparing to make a mess on his cock. like you always do, your arms throw over his shoulders before the moment gets abruptly ruined by a ring. not just an ordinary ring but it’s your phone. gojo raises a white brow, you’re still rocking your hips against him in a circular rotation before he hums. “oh, and who’d be callin’ my baby at this hour?”
“s- satoruuu,” you make a weak attempt at grabbing your phone but he beats you to it — he squints at the screen, an unsaved number that only you recognized. it was one of your old flings and for some reason they still thought they had a chance.
a wave of ripples surge all throughout your core as he’s buried to the hilt. “yo,” he answers, a hand still attached to your rear. you’re completely stupid, forming into a state of sheer dimwit as you moan into his neck. his fattened tip steadily repeats its movements to kiss and kiss near your sweet spot, yanking out such pretty harmonic whimpers. to gojo, the guy was speaking a whole lot of nothing, and he yawns, fingers combing straight down your feverish waist. “uh huh, well anyways, she’s busy. she can’t ngh—come to the phone right now but she’d loooove to leave you a mes- uh, don’t cut me off. do you know who i am?”
you wanted to face palm. he could be so dramatic, but you were being too stuffed full to even think about that. it’s been far too long without his cock, and each hit he created against you had you drooling for more. gojo’s thrusts were so good that it’s got you whining ‘n whining like a broke record until your voice grows strained. you’re having a competitive race with your own breath, blushing throbbing crown continuing to bury its way into your sopping cunt. gojo leans back, grabbing onto the headboard and his pectorals flex. “fuckk, i mean we’re busy,” and he shoots you a teasing grin as you straddle him.“ain’t that right, angel? say hi.”
and you moan loudly, a force ripping out of your windpipe the moment your orgasm comes. gojo puts the phone on speaker, letting the caller on the other end hear all of you. your sweet, sweet climax. you’re going crazy - feral.
it sounded so pretty nonetheless, a five second syllable that’s neverending and it makes his dick twitch. you feel the twitch — you also feel the vein that runs down the curve of his heavy shaft. “s- satoru, fuck fuuuck,” and with your eyes squeezed shut, your jaw tightens. he hums, watching as you coat his cock down with your slippery slick, squelch after squelch wailing out from your cunt. “ohmygoddd.”
“that’s it, baby. make me just as messy as you, yeah,” and you’re met with wet lips crashing onto yours. weakly moving yourself against him at a much slower pace, he delves his tongue inside your hot, warm mouth. you shiver, still feeling the pleasurable after effects before he pulls away, ending the phone call before tossing it near the other side of the bed. “heh, she’s such a good girl,” and you gasp once you feel a hand of his slither between your thighs. maneuvering a few circles against your stuffed cunt, gojo nibbles on your chin. “mhm, who’s pussy is this?”
“y- yours,” you whine, feeling your thighs shake from just his touch alone.
“my name isn’t ‘yours’, pretty girl.”
“m- my pussy belongs to you, ‘toru. satoru.”
“yeah she fuckin’ does.”
NANAMI ☆ the unforgettable ex.
nanami’s the type of ex where you couldn’t forget him even if you tried. he’s got the looks, the charm, the romantically deep strokes.
prefers to have you right underneath him, right where you belonged. you’re so pretty, he can’t help but blink twice because if this was a dream, he didn’t want to ever wake up.
“sweetheaaart,” he lowly groans into your neck, his body gradually rocking into you. he didn’t wanna go too quick or too fast - nanami’s pace was always just right. “you dunno how much i missed you,” and you moan, feeling him hide his face into your chest. he playfully nips against your breasts before sighing gruffly. “missed my girls too.”
“k- ‘kennn,” you moan, going into a short split second daze once the leaky tip of his cock glissades past your clit. you’re so sensitive, clenching your teeth as he’s rolling his beefy body against you. with his weight on top of you, you’re in perfect sync, perfect harmony. he huffs and puffs, hot clouds of breath tickling against your skin before he licks a damp stripe from your chest to your neck. “mhm, i- i missed you more.”
“oh, my sweet, that’s impossible,” he whispers, stretching out your gloopy walls with all his might.
like always, you opened up for him - the stretch was always there. nanami hissed faintly, feeling your cunt cling onto him tightly. so tight as if you never wanted to let go — and you didn’t.
he looked so pretty like this though. dirty blond hair that’s mostly neat and parted was now all ruffled, strands everywhere - strands running past his eyes and forming into thin bangs. as translucent beads of sweat race down his forehead, they pour down each side of his face.
whilst his tense back muscles flex at every sharp thrust he’s giving you, nanami groans—his adam’s apple bobbing as he tossing his head back, biting his lip. as he does so, he feels the little charms of your anklet he bought you years ago with his initials of ‘n. k.’ engraved on it, run down his skin, hearing the dangles sing out a tune as he goes faster and faster. with his chiseled hips going faster, so does your breaths.
“you drive me crazy,” he almost pouts, cupping the curvature of your jawline. nanami holds your face as a single thumb strokes your cheek. “no one m- makes me feel as good as you do, my love.”
“kentoooo, ngh,” you moan out, fuzz deafening the insides of both of your ears. it’s so loud, the sounds of skin slapping and groaning groans fills the room — bouncing and reverberating against the thin walls. the neighbors would probably file another complaint, yet alas, you started to not care. maybe he was what you were missing. you’re throbbing not only from his touch but his voice. nanami could call you the prettiest girl in the word and you’d cream all down his cock, like you’d always do. “breed me, ‘ken. ‘s okay, you can finish inside.”
“s- sweetheart, careful now,” he sheepishly says, feeling the way you wrap your arms around his tense shoulders. your words made him hot, incredibly hot. his entire body feels shivers, just from a few simple words. “fuck,” he swears, delicately pounding you into the bed you two once both shared. with an abashed expression, he peppers your collarbone with soft kisses before whispering up against the sensitive shell of your ear. “ah, i shouldn’t s- say such foul language in front of you, forgive my filthy mouth,” and you cut him off with a tender kiss, rocking your body against him ever further. he moans in your lips, feeling the thumping of his heart accelerate. oh, you had him whipped. he never fell out of love with you - he couldn’t.
calloused fingertips graze against your neck as he holds you close. with thick inches of cock plummeting in and out of your walls, he’s seconds close to shooting into you raw. he sucks in a breathe, bucking his hips as your tongue battles with his. “mhh,” you whimper, feeling his sculpted abs grind against you. nanami still had on his blazer — yet, his tie remained on and his collar was roughly tugged out. in some cases, you forgot why the two of you even broke up in the first place. but with nanami, one or the other would always come crawling back. “kento, ‘s okay, baby,” you murmur between kisses in a shaky voice, feeling him circle a palm around your tummy. he’s envisioning you with a plump belly already and it does something to his brain.
“okay, okay,” he huskily grunts, your legs tightly wrapping around his waist. you heard the timbre in his voice, how it’d always get low whenever he was close. underneath him — your knees buckle, and your cunt was pulsating. each individual nerve prods and pulses, making you whimper out his name in such a sweet manner. the way you’d whine out his name, throwing your head back and rolling your eyes in debleating rapture - it was pure bliss. the moment he cums, he sees nothing but snowy white. nanami’s eyes grows murky, almost doe-like before he’s dumping such a satiny load of ropes into your pussy. “hngh, oh- ‘s so much, sweetheart. ‘m gonna fill you up so g- good.”
and he does — barred big hands grab onto yours as he’s overflowing your weeping pussy with his warm seed. it’s so much that it spills out, dribbling down the sides of your thighs. the smell was almost potent, a milky ring forms its way around his base before he collapses onto your chest. nanami’s eyes were closed and yet his lips latch onto your bare, swollen nipples. “i- mph, love youuu,” and judging from his slurred speech, he was already pussy drunk. he leans into your touch, feeling the way your fingertips massage his scalp. the same hand from before rubs a circle against your tummy, and his head moves its way down before planting a pecking kiss near your stomach.
“and i’ll love our future little one also.”
SUKUNA ☆ the possessive ex.
“tell me,” he purrs in a raspy voice, raking a few fingers over your shivering frame. you moan, watching as he’s preparing to pounce like an animal does right before its prey. you meet the demon’s gaze and he cups your chin, his damp tip brushing against your folds. “anyone touch her?”
coyly, you shrug both shoulders as your legs remain sprawled open. “huh,” you murmur out, sheepish grin curling against your lips. “touch who, ‘kuna?”
“woman, don’t try me,” he snarls, baring a single fang as he spoke - the same exact fangs that would always bury into your flesh, gifting you with a plethora of individual fang marks. your breath hitches once he’s sinking his dick inside, feeling how quick your walls were to tighten. your arms toss over him for support, sweeping the edges of your fingertips against the ancient markings that paint the blade of his broad shoulders. “ah,” he whispers against your ear, an almost growl. you whimper, feeling his forked tongue ghost against your earlobe before he nibbles on it. “talkin’ about her, my other stubborn girl who’s always soaked.”
and as he finishes that sentence, a hand squeezes against your cunt before giving it a rude spank. you gasp, a single thrust of his hips and he’s fully inside. it felt so good, it’s probably been months since he’s seen you, since he’s been inside.
sukuna was the kind of ex where he’d never let you forget him.
the sharp rims of his claws gently and delicately scrap against your skin and he leisurely moves his mouth toward your neck. now, he’s got you right where he wants — mating press.
“s- she’s missed you, ‘kuna,” you finally whine out, the gripping pressure of his cock rummaging through your insides so thoroughly, so fully just makes your brain short circuit. he’s just so big, as he’s expanding inside of your walls, already, your body underneath him starts to grow limp. sukuna stares at you, watching as your facial expressions twitch and contort in gratifying pleasure. “fuck, fuck. i missed you.”
“i know you did,” he groans, and it’s a bit of sincerity underneath his tone. you had the audacity of stealing his breath away and his heart.
having you sprawled out like this . . on his royal bed, screaming out his name like you always did, he’s missed it. he’s missed you, but last of all, he’s missed your sweet, sweet pussy. the bed creaks ‘n creaks until it can’t anymore, creating a sort of beat with each croaking grunt it wails out.
sukuna’s weight is right on top of you — crashing against your skin, barely hovering over your own frame as he’s driving his hips into you speedily, fucking you deeply into the kingly, regal sheets. you’re babbling out candied cacophonies of ‘ryooo’ — ‘kunaaa,’ and a majority of other colorful swears that sound so melodic coming from your tongue. “still got a filthy pussy but an even filthier mouth, i see.”
and as he’s pounding you into the mattress, he grips your chin. he’s so rough, snapping hips rut into you all at once to where you could barely get an audible word out. you’re stammering pure lewd gibberish, skin against skin and he’s sticking right against you like sweltering hot glue.
“f- fuuuuck, harder,” you egg him on, jerking back against the bed at each powerful hit. it doesn’t take him long to locate your g-spot either, you squeal out that same squeak he’s grown to love and that’s when he starts pummeling into it. again, and again, and again. his sloppy thrusts against your pussy gets so repetitive — he feels your legs snake around his waist and he growls into your neck.
“hah, you sound so stupid,” he jibes, pearly fangs nipping the inner part of your neck. your taste, he could never get enough of it. no one had your flavor, your taste — your sweet arousal that forevermore lingers on his demon tastebuds. you were sukuna ryomen’s favorite treat. as he’s grinding into you, you’re already a puddled mess. you whimper, moaning into his ear before he starts to bite near your neck. “all mine. mine to breed, mine to kiss, mine to love.”
as he’s grunting his ‘possessions’ into your ear, your sloppy cunt flutters. his reddened tip thrashes in ‘n out of your core before you start to spasm.
with his weight still pressing onto you, you felt his heat everywhere. his toned body, his muscles colliding against your soft, tepid skin. “i- i love you, ‘kuna,” you whimper out, and he has a smug cunning grin at your sudden blurt. so cute, the way it rolls of your tongue. as he’s continuing to ravage into your swollen, needy walls, he throws your leg over his shoulder. fingers of yours wisp near the nape of his neck whilst another hand cups his face. “never stopped.”
“oh, yeah?” a low voice rumbles out of him, and he starts to flick his tongue near the numerous of fang marks that were slowly forming near your collarbone. you were so sweet, he could just eat you up. “i have a strong liking to you too, i guess.”
“you guess?”
“i . . love you too, brat,” he says through gritted teeth, it was like saying those simple eight words were about to kill him. he felt a weird softness pool its way into his heart before you both reach inevitable climaxes at the same time. it’s abruptly euphoric. he groans, using your bare shoulder to suppress his moans. twitching, he remains like this the entire time. strong arms, all of them wrap around your body, pulling you close.
“all mine,” he repeats, and you watch with glossy eyes as he pulls up your ring finger. with a huffing blow, he has a cute pouty pout. the demon was fucked dumb just as much as you. he rests his face into your chest before grumbling. “does this mean you’re staying this time?”
“maybe.” you pant.
“tch. maybe she says.”
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tonycries · 7 months ago
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Green-eyed Monster
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Synopsis. He knows it’s not your fault they’re all over you - but that doesn’t stop him from fĂșcking you like it is.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, established relationship, jealous sĂ©x, spĂ­tting, exhĂ­bitionism, brĂ©eding, chokĂ­ng, degradatĂ­on, cĂșmplay, Nanami’s a bit mean, squĂ­rting, overstĂ­m, oral (female receiving), semi-public, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.4k
A/N. It’s my birthday month yippeeeee
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - “Talk to her?”
It takes you a second to even register those words - let alone the phone being pressed against the side of your face - Toji’s cock too big, the stretch too sinful, so utterly relentless as he fucks your sloppy pussy into the mattress. 
“Hellooooo? Anyone there?”
And it takes you even longer to hear that familiar tinny voice. Too familiar. 
“T-Toji- what ngh-” you let out an obscene gasp - one you were sure that Toji drew out of you on purpose. Dragging his thumb all over your throbbing clit, lips curling in a way that already told you who was on the other end of the line.
“C’mon, doll. The mans been blowing up your phone all day.” his words are hot against your lips. Giving your swollen lips a loud peck, once. Twice. “S’rude to keep someone waiting on call.”
He only huffs out a laugh at how cute you looked underneath him, all breathless and fucked dumb. Jaw slack, teary eyes rolling to the back of your head, words slurring and barely coherent.
“Hngh- what-” you squirm, words so heavy as Toji continues his movements. “Oh my god-”
Your boyfriend had you exactly where he wanted you - and since he couldn’t take a hint, Toji was about to let that annoying little ex of yours know too. Knowing that whatever comes out of your pretty lil’ mouth would definitely stop that loser thinking he still had a chance.
“Is she there? Baby, are you there?”
Oh, well, Toji didn’t like that. Not one bit, as he pushes your legs further apart to ram into you even deeper. Unstopping. Unforgiving - like he was taking his irritation out on your poor, ravaged cunt. 
“Yeah, speak up ‘baby’.” he pants into your open mouth, hot tongue licking up the stray tears rolling down your cheeks. “Use those words now.”
And because he was such a shameless bastard, Toji’s rolling your swollen clit between two large fingers. Lips twitching up into a smirk as he drinks in all those cute little whines that startle out of you. 
“Hn-hngh-” you cry, bowing your body deeper into Toji’s. Clawing at his arms - his shoulders - his back to desperately contain your obscene moans. What a shame, they were so pretty too - he wouldn’t mind the entire neighborhood overhearing. “Fuck, Toji
”
“Awww, what? Can’t even speak?” Pulling himself closer to catch your lips in a hot, open-mouthed kiss he hopes would ring through the speakers on the other end of the line. “My poor baby’s gettin’ nervous?”
God, that asshat better take a hint now.
And shit if he thought he was going insane because of that bastard interrupting his precious time with you, then he was definitely not ready for the way you get wetter - tighter - as he does. Putting on a sinful little show that had Toji’s hips stuttering, knuckles white on your phone as he fights not to drop it. 
“Oh-” Toji’s head drops into the crook of your neck, fingers bruising on your hips while he fucks you back harder into him. ”Ya like this? Like being so dirty in front of someone else?” Difficult with the way you were squeezing so tightly around his swollen cock. “Actin’ so innocent but you’re such a slut, huh?”
You give him such a delirious little nod of your head, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently and- shit, did you even know what you were doing? How fucking sexy you were being right now? Shit, he was fucked. He was so fucked.
“Is this you playing hard to get?”
Ah, right. Forgot about that bastard.
Droning out into the phone, “Seems m’girl is busy right now.” And as if to prove his point - maybe to that scrub on the other end of the phone, maybe to himself - he’s slamming into your heavenly cunt faster and faster. Making sure to angle the speaker just right to catch all those lewd little squelches as your sweet sweet juices soak Toji’s achingly hard cock. Voice as ragged as his hips as he grunts, “Very busy.”
“I can hear her - let me speak to her!”
Well, what your ex was hearing were probably those fucked-out whines spilling from your lips. Just as out of control as your hips bucking up for more more more- “Ah! Toji, wan’ more- hngh- fuck fuck fuck.” 
It made all the blood in Toji’s body - especially his brain - rush straight down to cock to watch you go from pretending you weren’t affected to being such a good little whore for him. And, hell, that was only for him to hear.
“Wait- that noise-”
So Toji’s snaking up his hand from its relentless abuse on your sensitive clit to shove two fingers into your mouth. Huffing out a dark little chuckle at the way you gag and choke so prettily around him, moaning like you couldn’t help yourself.
Though, that doesn’t mean he’s going to be any nicer to your cunt though. Toned pelvis slamming against yours - so hard he’s sure it would leave some nice little bruises to brag about - maybe even send that asshole ex a few pictures if he still keeps calling.
“What the fuck- is she
?”
“Told ya, she’s busy.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - “You deserve it.”
“Do I really have to do this to teach you a lesson each time?”
You gulp, eyes flitting between his yellow tie wrapped around your wrists pinned above, and the man in-between your legs. Eyes glassy, strands of blond sticking uncharacteristically to his forehead, such a cruel little smirk playing on his lips as he positions himself in-between your legs. 
Smack!
A breathless gasp leaves you as Nanami’s hand comes down on your ass. Hard. 
And he only huffs out a low chuckle at the way you keen, hips bucking wildly in- defiance? Need? You didn’t know, the only thing you were sure of was that you wanted him to do something - anything - right now. 
Because one look at that classmate who you were just a little too close with earlier today, and Nanami’s been so mean ever since then. All but ripping off your clothes as he tied you to the headrest, fucking you over and over until he could see you all bloated with his cum. And even then - Nanami wasn’t done.
“Y’should answer me when I ask something, my love.” he licks a long, languid stripe up your swollen folds. Pressing softly on your tummy to watch his seed gush down your legs, so fucking filthy as he pools it on his tongue, tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat. “Or is it that you just listen to what he says now?”
God, he was being so sinfully irrational right now. Teasing. Taunting. 
“No, tha’s not it-” you sob, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks at how you wanted to cum again so badly despite how sensitive your poor pussy was. “J-jus want-”
“Want what?” 
Oh how Nanami loved you like this - that pathetic little whimper leaving your mouth as he teases you with his mouth. Hot tongue going all the way up from your base, just underneath your swollen clit. Not even bothering to fuck into your sloppy hole yet. 
“To make me-” the words die in your throat as he grazes your clit. Ever-so-slightly. You just wished you could free yourself and give in so badly. “Cum! Wan’ you to make me cum.”
Your back arches off the bed, legs wrapping around Nanami’s head to pull him closer to where you needed him the most. Thighs quivering, his cum dribbling out of your sloppy pussy and into a lewd little pool below.
And it seems to work - perhaps temporarily. Because he’s echoing against your glistening lips, “To cum?” smirking against your cunt as he dips his tongue past that first ring of resistance. “You should ask-” Before pulling away completely. “-that friend of yours.”
“Noooo!” you’re letting out a strangled gasp, and if you were in any better state of mind maybe you’d have been embarrassed about how pathetic you were being right now. Tugging uselessly on the tie. “Please, Ken.”
God, how he would love to bully you some more - to have you crying and shaking on just the tip of his tongue until all you could remember was how he couldn’t have you like this. Ruin you like this. 
But, no, Nanami can’t deny that your adorable mewls of his name have him feeling lightheaded.
“You little minx.” he manages out, pulling away mere millimeters. Purposely letting a tense beat pass, one. Two. Before spitting on your fluttering cunt, adding to the absolute mess of cum and slick below. Missing on purpose - of course - to let it splatter all over your thighs. “Usin’ the dirtiest tricks, huh?”
“I didn’t oh-” Nanami doesn’t let you plead your case - he doesn’t want you to. Instead, shoving his face nose-deep in your overfilled pussy. Lapping at all your - and his - sweet sweet juices.
“Asking me to do this.” he hisses into your cunt, trying for the life of him to sound like he isn’t in heaven right now. Murmuring around your throbbing clit, “Shoulda asked that friend. Didn’t need me when he was around.” 
You hiccup, face burning at how mean he was being. “He’s just a c-classmate.”
Smack!
Maybe to shut you up, maybe to stop you from talking about that loser with those pretty lips of yours, Geto’s giving you a quick, sharp smack to your ass. Smoothing his palm over the sting like a little warning. 
“Oh yeah?” he questions, muffled around your dripping cunt. So deep that his nose was rubbing tiny, sinful little circles on your poor clit. “Didn’t seem that way with how he was flirting with my wife. N’ now you wanna cum on my tongue? How needy.”
“M’sorry!” you’re grinding your cunt deeper onto his face, a rapid, sloppy little rhythm to match his own. Geto’s tie now digging into your wrists with how hard you’re pulling. “Shoulda known- m’sorry- hngh, fuck fuck fuck.” 
Rewarded with a gentle smack! and his tongue - hot and deftly massaging all the right spots. So expert in the way he’s teasing and pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Dragging your pussy so sloppily all over his face, tonguefucking you with such reckless abandon. No rhythm or technique - just to show off. To show you.
Close - too close. 
Close enough that you could almost-
Let out a broken whine as Nanami pulls away, delicate strings of cum and spit snapping as he does. So pretty and filthy all over his kiss-bitten lips, ones that curve into a mocking smile at your state. 
“Who said you could cum, gorgeous?” A hand reaching down to fist his swollen fist, pumping up and down. Slowly. “I was jus’ cleaning that pretty pussy up for the real fun.”
♡ GETO SUGURU - See the mess
It was too much - everything was too much. From the way Geto had you shoved into your empty office room, strong arms spreading your legs so shamefully on the desk, to the way he’s stuffing his achingly hard cock in-between them.
Hips so well, and dangerously intent. Like he had something to prove, and didn’t mind whether he would break you in the process. 
And he did - to prove himself to those incessant coworkers of yours that hit on you in front of him. As if they had a chance? To prove that he’s the only one to that can make you cum over and over and- 
Dragging you on his cock, veins throbbing in a maddening thump! thump! thump! Against your walls. Edging you closer to - which number orgasm was this, again? You weren’t in the right state of mind to calculate. 
“Oh, this? Might the seventh.” he murmurs, fingers stuttering on your throbbing clit and- oh shit, had you said that out loud? “Mhm, you did.” Geto grins up at how pretty you were like this - tear-streaked face, lips wobbling, such cute moans leaving them each time he gave a long, languid strokes. “But s’alright, I love it.”
“B-but-” you whine, words slurring together in a way that has all the blood in Geto’s body rushing painfully to this dick. “Someone might-”
“Come?” he circles around your sloppy entrance with a fingertip, stretched so fucking obscenely around his cock. Shifting to flick at your sensitive nub. “Guess you jus’ better hurry up then, my love.”
Your head spins, both from the way Geto was dragging your pussy so sloppily all over his cock - bouncing you like such a slut - and from how mean he was being. Nothing at all like the caring, gentle boyfriend he usually was. Throwing your legs over his shoulders to fuck you even deeper.
“Fuck shit shit shit-” you buck your hips wildly as he bullies his heavy cock faster into your plushy walls. One hand on your hips, keeping you still while he massages every crevice and spot he knew would have you seeing stars. The other, drawing frenzied little circles on your ravaged clit. “S-Sugu, someone’s gonna hear- gonna walk in.”
“Good.”
Mouth dropping into a soft oh! you snap your head up to meet his darkened gaze. Man bun so messy already, brows furrowed, lips swollen and curling ever-so-slightly into a cruel, fucked-out little smile.
“Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, hips getting sloppier. Faster. “Almost like you want someone to come.”
Unconvincingly, “N-noo, hah- I don’t”
“Y’sure about that?” Your sweet sweet juices glossing his lips so prettily from where he tongue-fucked you to insanity right here not to long ago, and if you angled your head just right you could see the way it trickled down his jawline. An even bigger mess at his hips, cock soaked and glistening in the dim lighting. “Don’ want any of those friends to see you all filthy like this?”
Because Geto wasn’t afraid of getting messy - or showing it off. He loved it in fact. 
Loved your slick just smearing dangerously close to the strands of hair framing his face. Loved ruining you because he was the only one that got to - and anyone else can come in and watch if they wanna flirt with you so badly. 
“Fuck them.” you flinch at how uncharacteristically mean he was being. “Fuck them all. Only I can make you feel like this-” Hitting that one spot again and again. “-right?”
“Sugu- f-fuck s’too deep.” you arch off the desk, fingers carding through his locks to pull him even closer. Eyes watering as you feel that familiar knot in your stomach. “I’m hah- shit.”
“Who’s cock are ya gonna cum all over?” Geto questions, muffled around your dripping cunt. So deep that his nose was rubbing tiny, sinful little circles on your poor clit. “Who’s making you- hngh- f-feel this good?”
It’s all you can do to let out such whiny, cockdrunk replies. Ones that only make Geto rock his hips harder, sloppier with each word falling from your lips. “You- Sugu- Shit s’too much.”
 “Yeah? Gonna cum f’me again? All on my cock?” breathing ragged now. 
“I- I don’t- hngh. Know if I can!” You were barely lucid at this point, barely even registering the way you’re so sloppily jerking your hips all over. Using him in exactly the ways Geto wanted. 
“You will.” Pace only picking up, so rough that a little part of Geto almost feels bad - almost. Your entire body is twitching with each flick of his finger on your clit. Cock hitting all the right spots. Making such a mess of slick and precum below you that you can only pray your office isn’t used for a meeting today. “You can- hngh- do it. F’me.”
“For you?”
“Yeah.” he’s pulling you close enough that you can feel his breath hot against your lips. “You can do it, right? Can cum for me? Squirt all over my cock?” Licking at the seam of your mouth - forcing you to taste him and yourself and him- “F’me. Only me.”
It’s sudden - almost violent, and you don’t even realize when you’re cumming at first. Just that, with a strained scream of Geto’s name, nails raking down his sculpted shoulders, leaving pretty red marks for him to remember. 
Juices squirting all over his abs, staining his t-shirt. Glistening against his milky skin, snug cunt squeezing his rock-hard cock while he fucks you over and over and- 
“So messy f’me, my love. So fuckin’ messy.” His eyes darting to the now slightly-ajar door - as expected. “Hope no one else sees the mess too, hm?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - The needy
He knows it’s not your fault that they hover around you - those pathetic losers that think they have a chance - but that still won’t stop him from fucking you like it is. 
“Baby- ngh. Why the f-fuck did you have to look so hah- good, today?” he’s gasping against your lips, hips out of control, voice a pitch or so higher than it usually would be. “Had so many lookin’ at my girl like ngh- you’re theirs.”
And God - it was so hard to look at Choso too, flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink, stray strands of hair sticking to his forehead - so utterly wrecked already. Though, you weren’t any better. 
“S’for you, Cho.” you whine, jaw dropping at the sudden gush of cum that oozes down your legs as Choso pulls out completely - like a little punishment. Lips curling into a fucked-out little smirk at your adorable pout. “D-did it for you.”
Those simple words break him. You break him. 
And Choso doesn’t even dare to give himself the chance to compose himself before bullying his swollen cock all the way back inside you again. Heavy balls smacking your ass hard enough to leave marks - good, let them leave marks. Milking himself over and over. 
Groaning, “Shit- you don’t know what you do to me, baby.” 
And your eyes flicker down at the hands suddenly all over you - everywhere, anywhere that Choso could reach. So that maybe next time when you wear such a sinful little sundress, everyone else will know to keep their eyes to themselves. Cupping your stomach to press down on where he was right there-
“Hngh- oh my god. So deep, ah-”
“Look s’fuckin’ gorgeous.” he spits into your mouth. Fingers bruising on your hips, your ass, kneading and groping every inch of skin. “Unfair- shit shit- they don’t have the right-” Tweaking your nipples, branding your neck, he runs a thumb under your swollen lower lip. “Don’ have the hah- right to look at what’s mine, right?”
“Y-yes.” you whimper, rutting your hips up pathetically to meet his merciless cadence. Hard abs so painful - maybe even bruising against your skin. 
Choso’s tugging open your lips, and you let him. Way too drunk on his cock - his massive, unforgiving cock - to even think of stopping him. 
Before you know it, he spits in your mouth, once. Twice. And you don’t even realize that this is what you’ve been waiting for - perhaps ever since you put on that slutty little sundress to tease him this morning - because you’re moaning half-lucidly. Eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let his saliva slide down your throat.
And Choso just looks like he could pass out right then and there. 
He doesn’t know what’s more obscene - this or that little pool of cum spreading all over the sheets right now. Seeping into your skin, dribbling down your legs each time he moves in and out in and-
“Hated their s-stares. Their whispers.” Jaw falling slack, cock twitching wildly inside your tight walls. Words hurried and slurring together as he whispers, “Mine right?” Biting down your neck, licking hotly - almost as sloppy as his hips, “Only mine, yeah? Who does this pussy belong to?”
“You!” you manage to sob out, jolting at the fingers starting up quick, erratic little circles on your poor clit. “Ngh- only you.”
“Mhm? I make you f-feel this hah- way?” he leans closer, cock ramming in and out of you so animalistically. “Only I get to paint this pretty pussy white.” Nibbling on your ear, “To s-stuff you full, hm?”
Honestly, Choso doesn’t even know if he could cum again but he had to - needed to. Balls squeezing while he fights to cum again - once more, to prove to himself, and you that you were his inside and out. And he tells you - a little over twelve times as he babbles into your lips.
“Mine. Shit shit shit- all f’me. Fuck, m’so close” And he could tell by the way you were squeezing so sinfully around him that you were too, moans getting all breathy and incoherent the way it did just before you were about to cum. “Gonna cum? F’me? H-hah- All f’me?”
“Yes! Yes yes yes- m’gonna-”
You don’t get to finish the sentence - Choso doesn’t let you.
Instead, drinking up all your sinful moans while he angles his hips just right to hit that one spot, at the same time he presses down against your clit. Hard. 
You see stars as you cum, toes curling, legs pulling Choso by his toned hips so he could spill into you with an almost-pained grunt. Cock too sensitive, tears springing to his eyes as he cums and cums so hard he thinks he sees the gates of heaven. 
And you, of course, are an angel.
An angel he’s pressing impossibly closer to. Biting up your collarbone, hips so filthy with the way he’s fucking rope after rope of hot seed into you. 
Whispering hoarsely in your ear, “Ya finally know you’re mine or do I hafta ngh- teach you again?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Listen up!
“I could always get you off right here, y’know. Right now.”
And that’s exactly what he does - one look at his underlings sends them running. The door barely even slamming shut before Sukuna has your drenched panties in tatters on the floor, straddling his thick thigh, trying - desperately - to get yourself off with all that he would give.
“Y-you said you hngh- get me off.” you hiccup, bottom lip wobbling so pathetically as you drag your sloppy pussy all over Sukuna’s thigh. 
And oh you sound so betrayed - so needy - that it might just be opening up a whole new realm of possibilities for the man himself. Doing nothing more but watch the way you ride his thigh like such a slut. 
“So what if I said that?” he crosses his arms, intentionally blocking the mouth-watering view you had of his pecs. “Do it yourself. Think m’gonna be intimidated by a whore like you?”
You know he’s doing this to infuriate you, to get you to break and beg him for mercy. And all you can do is let out a soft gasp as Sukuna shifts his leg, the friction so good against your sensitive pussy. Having you see stars behind your eyes. 
“Heh, too fucked out to even deny it?” he coos, making you whine and stutter your hips right where that sinful little thigh tattoo was. Pressing down. Hard. “You really are a whore. Is that why you let my ministers get close with you like that?”
“I-I didn’t-” your hips are out of control now, sliding your throbbing clit on the dips and curves of his leg. Absolutely soaked in your juices. “They jus’ asked me how to get to the-”
“And they think they can talk to their queen that way?”
Irritation is bleeding into Sukuna’s words now, eyes dark and hooded in a way that makes you wonder whether he realizes the iron-hold grip on your hips now. Hard. Nails sharp against your soft skin, rocking you harder on his thigh. Faster.
With a soft whimper, you let him pull you into a desperate desperate kiss. Just a clash of teeth and saliva and pure need. Pure intensity. 
“Fuckin’ vermin.” You flinch as he spits out little profanities into your open mouth. “Should kill ‘em for even looking at you.” One hand digging into your hips, pushing and pulling them like you were too slow, the other shifting his robe. “Gonna kill them all.”
And maybe because you’re too stupid - or too cockdrunk - to think otherwise, because you gasp out little pleas of mercy. Letting Sukuna drink up your delirious little, “D-don’t kill them
”
“Ha?” Sukuna breaks the kiss, immediately stopping your lewd little movements on his leg. Leaning in close enough that his hot breath fans your face. “The fuck did you just say?”
Oh, shit. You were fucked. You were so so fucked.
“Nooo, Kuna I was so-”
“Close?” And oh, you should’ve known that would be a sign. Should’ve gotten an inkling by the way that Sukuna immediately lifts you from his thigh as if you weigh nothing, immediately hovering you right over his achingly hard dick - you won’t be making it out alive. “Who the fuck gave you permission to cum, brat?”
Nothing more is said before he’s making you sit so prettily on his dick - already soaked in precum and so so angry. Not even a hint of care or concern in the way he splits you apart on his swollen cock with barely any preparation. If you were gonna act like such a slut - might as well take it like one.
“I didn’t give ya permission to cum yet.” Sukuna grunt, lacing his fingers on top of your head to push you down, down, down his cock. “Did they?”
You can’t even form proper sentences at this point, the stretch too much. Too good. Letting out incoherent little babbles of what sounded like disagreement, or, that’s what Sukuna took it as anyway.
“Thought so.” Smirking at the feeble resistance, “Was defending you against that trash and you just had to fuck- go stand up f’them.” He fucks up into your tight pussy in quick, methodical grinds just to squeeze his thick cock inside. “S’like you wanted me to fuck you up right here. To have them hear how I fucking ruin this pretty pussy on my cock.”
You’re scrambling to grab at the chair, his bulging biceps, settling for clawing at his shoulders. Too desperate to even think of a better reply other than a teary little, “N-no- don’ wan-”
Which was useless, really, because any pathetic excuse Sukuna cuts off. Unable to help himself from giving one, harsh thrust that finally has your sweet cunt fully wrapped around his dick. Heavy balls smacking against your ass, squeezing him so tightly. 
“Oh? What a shame.” His whisper is hot against your ear, sending goosebumps racing down your spine. Two fingers squishing your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, forcing you to look at the closed door. “Because they’re right outside listening to ya.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - The show-off
The Kyoto exchange event isn’t always fun and games, Gojo thinks - ever since that new prick from Kyoto’s teaching staff started making eyes at you, that is. 
How unprofessional! Conduct between teachers should definitely be reprimanded - no matter that Gojo had you snuck into his room, shirt hitting the floor faster than the door closes. His hands everywhere, throwing his blindfold around your neck, pulling you to bed so you can ride whatever remaining sanity out of him. 
“T-Toru, what are you doing?” you squeal, as he starts bucking his hips wildly underneath you. Reeling his head back to watch the way his thick cock slides in and out of you. In and out in and out in and-
“Don’t you worry, sweetheart.” he fumbles with his phone, that familiar ping! ringing out over those lewd squelches below you. You and Gojo were no stranger to recording your little trysts - but why did he seem so eager about this one? “Jus’ do what you always do. Take it- fuck take it all f’me.”
And it’s all you can do - thighs shaking with effort as you desperately try to keep up with Gojo’s pace. 
“Yeah- fuck yeah yeah. Feel so good- God I never get used to this.” And it’s true, he thinks - knows, he could never grow used to the heady feeling of wrecking your tight little pussy. Of drawing those cute lil’ whines of his name out of you. “N’ I know no one else would either.”
Gojo’s no stranger to running his mouth when he’s pussydrunk - and the way your plushy walls were squeezing him so tight, body curving into his as you milk the soul out of him - how could he not be?
“C’mon, sweetheart. Make a mess f’me - and him.”
All it takes is for those simple words for you to realize what he’s doing. And Gojo’s long fingers are becoming erratic on your clit, rolling his thumb over the sensitive nub. Hips sloppy like he was trying to fuck any and every rationality out of you. 
It works, probably - because you know you should stop him recording. To tell him to put away that phone and just ruin you how he usually does. 
But no, instead you’re only getting wetter. Knees spread, sopping hole so messy as you rock your hips even harder down Gojo’s throbbing cock. “So th-that’s what this is about.” 
With a throaty groan, Gojo pulls you to him by his blindfold dangling around your neck - easy access, of course. Grip just a little tighter than it should be. 
Looking up at you through his long lashes, eyes hazy - almost glowing in the camera flashlight. You see the way his lips curl into a satisfied grin. 
“C-can you fuck- blame me?” he sounds so wrecked already. Hand growing tighter and tighter with each cute lil’ whine leaving your swollen lips. “Fuckin’ loser thinks he has the ngh- skills to pull you.” Toned pelvis now bruising against your own, words strained and you wonder whether he can remember to breathe - whether you can breathe. “N’ the skills t-to-” Hips jagged, filthy. “-fuck you.”
“Oh- shit shit shit. God, it feels too good-” 
You’re wondering just how useful the video will actually be, because Gojo’s drawing out such slutty, loud moans from you that you’re half-sure most of campus can hear.
“He can never get you this wet.” Bullying his cock into your heavenly cunt like he was fucking addicted on the feeling. Thumb trembling as he tries to get the camera to focus on all the best parts. “This messy.”
The way your glistening pussy is stretched so obscenely around his cock, sucking him up so well. Disappearing into your dripping wet heaven. Your tits bouncing so enticingly in front of his face - marks littering your soft skin like you’d been thrown to the wolves. But, no, it’s just Gojo.
Just him that can ruin you like this, split you apart on his cock, have his blindfold wrapped around your cute neck.
“Jus’ me.” he gasps, blindfold tightening, phone so shaky. “He can’t compare to me. Fuck- fuck he can never compare.” His heavy balls sting your ass, merciless. “Can never be me.” Hips stuttering and so so sloppy, like he was running on pure adrenaline and the need to prove to the camera that he could ruin you like he promised. “Never. You’re mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to ruin.” Tightening. “Mine to break.”
“Sh-shit- you’re too much, Toru.”
“You agree, right?” he suddenly sounds so serious. Knuckles whitening against the blindfold. “No one can hngh- do it like m-me?” Blood roaring in your ears, vision getting spotty, like he wouldn’t let up until he hears what he wants. “No one?”
“Hah- fuck, no one-” you wheeze through his grip, “Only you, Toru.”
Then you’re cumming. 
And Gojo’s not far behind as he buries himself deeper to stuff you so full of his seed, chasing peak after peak and the sinful feeling of your gummy walls being so dripping wet - with him. 
And what a view it was - his girl’s poor pussy so overfilled. You catch the way it drips down the side, cum pooling at Gojo’s twitching balls. Such an obscene white, that it makes Gojo him about painting it all over again. Yeah, his favorite view - and the camera’s too.
“Almost too good of a view.” he grins, looking up at you with twinkling eyes that definitely didn’t bode well for your poor, ravaged pussy - or your sanity. “N’ I just exchanged numbers with that new Kyoto teacher
”
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A/N. Also happy pride month hehe.
Plagiarism not authorized.
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yanderenightmare · 1 month ago
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♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues
♡ FEM reader
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Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 
Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 
The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.
Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.
He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 
Fuck, he’s hungry.
“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.
The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.
It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 
What the fuck’s going on with you?
He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.
He swallows thickly. No
 No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.
No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.
He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.
“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”
His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”
“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 
“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”
She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 
What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 
It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?
Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?
He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.
It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.
Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 
But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.
No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.
And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.
“Hey
”
It’s you. 
“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.
“What are you doing here?” you ask.
Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.
But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.
“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”
As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.
And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?
“That’s really nice. And
 I’m really happy you’re looking better. But
” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just
 enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 
No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?
“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”
It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?
“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”
You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”
“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”
You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”
Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.
“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”
“But—”
You shut the door. On him. In his face. 
His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week
 no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?
You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 
Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?
He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 
He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.
You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.
And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 
He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.
How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?
He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!
He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.
He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.
But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.
“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.
You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.
“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”
You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 
“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”
You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”
“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better
”
His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.
It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.
“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.
“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so
” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out
 soon.”
A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”
Your eyes widen.“Well
 it’s—”
“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”
You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.
“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”
His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.
“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 
A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.
“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”
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♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
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ghostsprincess · 2 months ago
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I can't stop thinking about Ghost being such a gentleman when your boyfriend is an ass....
warning: domestic abuse, adult language
💀
You were mortified that it happened at work this time...
Your boyfriend was a brute of a man, made worse over the months by drinking alone at night while you bartended to help pay down your student debts from several years ago. He got a little rough with you, but only when he was plastered. And you forgave him, because he was decent the rest of the time.
But suddenly you had to start coming to the pub to pull pints with a little extra makeup on your face. The random patrons out for a casual drink wouldn't have noticed, but your regular boys did. You only knew them by Ghost and Soap. They were military and mean looking, but they laughed together like teenage schoolmates. It was always a good night when they sat at the bar, but you could often feel their eyes on you.
"Y' alright, love?" Ghost asked the first night you wore extra eye makeup and a bright red lipstick.
"Yes," you told him, not meeting his eyes. Your face hurt. Your boyfriend had slapped you two days ago. Your skin was puffy and bruised, and you were embarrassed and afraid to move out, so you stayed. "You boys need another round?"
They left you a sizable tip. They always did.
The next time you saw them, your lip was split open, and you were desperate for a way out of the mess your life had turned into. Trying to hide your face while you mixed drinks was a chore, and as soon as Ghost and Soap arrived, you knew it was useless.
When Soap disappeared toward the washrooms, Ghost leaned across the bar, his hulking shoulders taking up more than their fair of space, making you smile slightly. His voice was deep and soft, but his words made you shiver and freeze with your hand on a pint glass. "Y' know, a pretty little thing like you belongs on a pedestal. A man should touch you with reverence."
You stared at him silently as his eyes tracked the mark on your lip. When Soap returned, you didn't charge them a cent for their drink, but they tipped you well anyway.
When a confrontation happened at the bar, tears stung your eyes, and you wanted to hide. Your boyfriend was drunk and angry, and tonight he beckoned you from behind the bar to a dark corner near the hallway where he could have some privacy while he berated you and roughed you up.
"Please," you begged, running your hands nervously on your shirt. "Just go home. I'll be off work in an hour."
"How many of them have you fucked?"
"What?" you gasped, thinking he'd finally lost it. "What are you talking about? I need to get back to work."
He pushed you up against the wall with his other hand on your jaw. "How many of the men here tonight have you fucked?" His thumb brushed the spot on your lip that was nearly healed, and you flinched. "You have the guiltiest expression. So, tell me how much of a slut you've been. As your boyfriend, I need to keep you in line."
Then he was being hauled away from you as your legs shook. With wide eyes, you watched Ghost's massive bicep wrap around his neck like it was nothing. "Y' alright, love?" he asked you softly, and you nodded without saying a word. Then his face darkened, and his voice was an angry snarl as he told your boyfriend, "Ya' been relieved of your duties."
"The fuck?" he responded from his headlock, gasping for air.
Ghost sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fuckin' prick don't even know military protocol." Then he raised his voice a little louder. "I said, ya' been relieved of your duties. I'll take over from here."
Somehow, you found your voice. "Take over?"
Ghost's face softened again when he looked at you there against the narrow hallway wall. "With the boyfriend duties," he told you while Soap dragged your ex-boyfriend toward the exit. "Sound good, love?"
He was holding out his big paw of a hand, palm facing up, and you knew he'd be incapable of using it to hurt you. The softness in his gaze right now and every time he looked at you was proof enough of that. You didn't respond, but you smiled as you slid your hand into his grasp.
"That'll do for now," he grunted.
That was the night you came to know him as Simon.
💀
Part two
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envy-of-the-apple · 3 months ago
Text
Third Wheel
Dark!SatoSugu x reader
(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)
Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back
Word Count: 7.3k
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When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV. 
It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep. 
It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates. 
And you were just extra baggage. 
You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted. 
But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you. 
It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did. 
"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space. 
Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you. 
"Yeah." You give. "Rough day." 
You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider. 
You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all. 
When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak. 
You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever. 
"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?" 
He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys. 
"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back." 
Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders. 
When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob. 
~
I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore
That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out. 
"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise." 
You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being. 
"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them. 
"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other." 
Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could." 
You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left. 
~
Satoru appears first. 
You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting. 
Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream. 
When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry. 
"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes. 
You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?" 
"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-" 
He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat. 
He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms. 
"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you." 
It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair. 
You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to. 
"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay." 
You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused. 
"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?" 
He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter." 
There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it. 
"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word." 
He freezes. You smile at Utahime. 
"Could you give us some time?" You ask. 
She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you. 
"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room. 
"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him. 
"For what?" 
He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories. 
"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry." 
You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-" 
"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up. 
"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker. 
"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves. 
"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did." 
He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you." 
Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again. 
But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick. 
"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru." 
I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter. 
Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying. 
A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay. 
"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him. 
He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone. 
"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer." 
His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed. 
"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't." 
How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.
You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship. 
"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand. 
"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better." 
You shake your head, slipping away from his grip. 
"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now." 
"You haven't even given us a chance to-" 
"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods. 
"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house." 
He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare. 
There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort. 
"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you. 
"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"
"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not." 
You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you. 
"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes. 
"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic." 
Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her. 
Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown. 
You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around. 
"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear. 
"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?" 
Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes. 
"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends." 
Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs. 
"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue. 
Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side. 
"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better." 
You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better. 
When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared. 
He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure. 
And so did Suguru. 
You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first. 
"How have you been?" He asks nicely. 
"Good." You respond. "You?" 
"Good." 
Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long. 
"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school." 
"I bet you two were scarier." You counter. 
He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not. 
"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh. 
It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable. 
"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same." 
"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine." 
"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were." 
That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to. 
But now, you don't have that desire anymore. 
And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest. 
"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly." 
Suguru frowns, troubled. 
"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-" 
"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable." 
"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place." 
He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift. 
"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that." 
You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru." 
You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately. 
"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?" 
It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole. 
You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you. 
You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours. 
"I love you." 
It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse. 
"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't. 
You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding. 
You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet. 
He's miserable. 
You did this. This was all you. 
"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him." 
They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!' and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru. 
Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.
But Shoko was right. You deserved better. 
 "It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal." 
Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this. 
Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset. 
"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought. 
"But what?" You press. 
Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face. 
"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out." 
You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation. 
"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?" 
You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach. 
~
It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.
You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her. 
"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long. 
"You'll see!" You chirp back. 
Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later. 
"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."
"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise." 
She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'. 
As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy. 
Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought. 
Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass. 
"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you." 
Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!" 
You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore." 
Shoko freezes mid-sip. 
"What?" She asks. 
"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-" 
You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears. 
"What's wrong?" You ask. 
"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?" 
That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?
"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again." 
They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces. 
"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal. 
Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand." 
At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-" 
And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time. 
"Oh." You breathe. 
"Oh." Utahime whispers. 
"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass. 
"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?" 
"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!" 
"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle." 
"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties." 
"I thought we were just doing friend things!" 
"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified. 
"I-I-" You give up. 
All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot. 
Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes. 
"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko. 
"Do you want us?" 
You take a deep breath. 
You nod. 
She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely. 
Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more. 
You break away, panting. 
"You good?" She asks. 
You nod. 
"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now." 
"What?" 
Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses. 
"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks." 
She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit. 
"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh. 
"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?" 
"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy. 
"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy." 
Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next. 
And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation. 
"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you." 
"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy. 
They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes. 
"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?" 
There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush. 
"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet." 
When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself. 
You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm. 
When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair. 
"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight. 
You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime. 
Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue. 
When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go." 
You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams. 
"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always." 
"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep. 
Shoko slaps your thigh. 
"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face." 
Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much. 
You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them. 
Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper. 
"Awake?" She asks. 
"Yeah." You softly say back. 
She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch. 
"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist. 
Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes. 
"I'm gonna get food." 
Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you. 
"What do you want?" She prompts. 
You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door. 
The interaction makes your heart warm. 
Still, it can't last. 
When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist. 
"And where are you going?" She prods. 
You fumble. "Back to my room?" 
"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now." 
"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?" 
"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?" 
"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine." 
"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly. 
"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder." 
You laugh. 
"That's not a joke." She warns. 
"I know." And you kiss her again. 
It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place. 
They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up. 
Everything was just perfect. 
And then, it just wasn't. 
You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled. 
"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone. 
Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold. 
You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay? 
You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it. 
The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about? 
The living room is horrific. 
They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels. 
Suguru doesn't even blink. 
"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal. 
"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?" 
Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth. 
"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition." 
You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos. 
"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands. 
"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that." 
You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting. 
But you know you aren't expecting...that. 
His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore. 
"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them." 
You step back. They step forward. 
Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far. 
"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-" 
"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already." 
He smiles again. 
"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores." 
"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."
They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete. 
The worst part is that everything was your fault. 
Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.
And you speak. 
"I'm sorry." 
Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions. 
"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two." 
Satoru halts. You caught him. 
"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."
Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder. 
"You missed us?" He wonders. 
The lie feels like sand. 
"More than anything." 
His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry. 
"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault." 
Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much. 
Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh. 
"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms. 
"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands. 
You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance. 
I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry. 
Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat. 
"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed." 
His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here. 
"I'm sorry," you say anyway. 
He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer. 
"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells. 
And then, he grins. 
"But you will be."
Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely. 
~
You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore. 
The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much. 
The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness. 
They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you. 
You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you. 
Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share. 
"You were out for a while." Suguru comments. 
"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs. 
You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.
"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."
"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.
"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."
You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.
"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.
"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."
Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.
"Satoru, please."
"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.
Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.
"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."
The door shuts, and everything goes dark.
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sweetiecutie · 1 year ago
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More ex bf!König headcanons bc I love my men pathetic
Ex boyfriend! König who is definitely over you. That’s what he tells himself and his friends, sipping on his beer and pressing his new girl closer to his side. No one says anything but they all share a knowing look - all of his new girls resemble you somehow: their general appearance or some exact features like shape of her lips or eyes, their behaviour or how they handle themselves. But needless to say that none of those ‘relationships’ lasted longer than a few months.
Ex boyfriend! König whom you meet at one of your shared friend’s party, his sharp eyes detecting you the moment you step into the room, his throat growing dry as he watched your every move intently. You seemed relaxed - too normal, not mourning the loss of your relationship as much as he did, seemed like you didn’t spend sleepless nights thinking about him.
Ex boyfriend! König who after a few drinks has you cornered in small bathroom, on his knees with his face pressed against your thigh, begging for you to take him back. “Please, I need you so much, my life doesn’t have any sense without you. I’ll be better, please baby, I love you so much”. Your heart clenched at the sight before you - always arrogant and complacent he’s now kneeling at your feet, fat tears running down his reddened cheeks as he scatters small kisses all over your knees.
Not so ex boyfriend! König who is too eager to take you to his place once you mumble out small “Okay, fine. But this one is the last chance you get” to prove to you just how good of a boyfriend he may be for you.
Boyfriend! König who eats you out like man starved, your slick smeared all over his chin and cheeks, tongue buried deep inside of your cunny as his ears strain to not miss a single little sound you make, familiar taste of you clouding up his mind and turning König into a perfect whore for you. He spends the rest of the night fucking you oh so good, rubbing and licking all your soft spots - ones he knows by heart, until you cry and beg for him to give you a little breather. But he just can’t - not when you’re finally back, laying all spread out on his bed, hands tangled in his bedsheets, your trembling legs wrapped around his waist.
Those months spent without you were the worst in his entire life and now that König has you back he’s not letting go of you never again.
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freedomfireflies · 5 months ago
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You Again*
Summary: The one where Harry is your sister's ex-boyfriend and you finally get to see him again after 5 years.
Word Count: 11.4k
Content Warning: 18+, smut, age gap (6 years), sir kink, choking, use of a toy, exhibitionism if you squint!
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"You've gotta be fucking kidding me."
Your eyes widen as you look up toward the man making his way into the diner. You'd recognize him anywhere. The dark curly hair. The tattoos that bleed through the fabric of his light shirt. The rings on his fingers.
Just like that, years' worth of memories come flooding back to you all at once.
"Harry," you shriek, sliding off the stool before practically flinging yourself into his arms. 
He smells exactly the same. Like teakwood and spearmint. A rather odd mix, yet subtle enough to remind you of home.
Of him.
His chest vibrates with a deep laugh as his arms wrap around your frame to keep you against him, prolonging the hug a minute or two longer than socially acceptable. 
And when you finally lean back to see him, your cheeks begin to warm.
It's been...four years? Five? Since you last saw him? Just days before he and your sister broke up, effectively removing him from your life for good.
It had been a hard time. You wanted to be there for your sister. To comfort her through the grief of losing such a long and meaningful relationship. 
But you wanted to be there for him, too. After all, he was one of your best friends, age difference or not. He had always been the comforting, influential figure in your life that you relied on. That you counted on to get through different hardships in your life.
He had picked you up after your first day at your new job. Had held you in his arms as you cried over your first break-up. He had even listened to you talk about the boy you had fallen in love with.
Losing him felt like losing a part of yourself.
And now, five years later...that part of you has come home.
"Hi, Dot," he beams, reaching out to take hold of your chin and squeeze. "Shit, look at you. When did this happen?"
His eyes rake over your figure and you feel your skin grown hot under his appreciative gaze. "Stop, it hasn't been that long."
"The last time I saw you, I was helping you move into your new apartment across town,” he recalls, arms crossing in thought. "And now...now what? You’re still at your job, I assume?"
"I am. I just got a promotion, actually. I’m an assistant editor now.”
His eyes seem to light up, that soft green sending chills up the back of your neck as you glance down at your feet. "Dot...that's amazing. I'm so proud of you."
You wave the compliment away. "Thanks."
"Really," he insists before following you back to the counter where you'd previously been sitting. "I know how badly you wanted to pursue a career in publishing, and this...this is really amazing. Do you like it?"
"I do," you tell him as you settle back onto your stool. "Yeah, it's really nice. The people are great, the work is fun. Plus, the promotion came with a raise."
"That's amazing," he sighs, head shaking like he can't believe it. "Really, that's so...I honestly can't believe it. I can't believe it’s been so long. You’re so
adult now.”
You snort to yourself as you twirl your straw around your milkshake. "Yeah, I know. Though I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or not.”
"You should." He smiles, and it's big and beautiful. "You’ve always been grown up. Even before, you were mature for your age.”
“Well
yeah. I was twenty-three. That does make me an adult.”
“And now you’re twenty-eight.” He shakes his head again. “I can’t fucking believe it.”
You glance down at the rim of your glass. He’s right, it almost doesn’t seem possible. It feels like only last week that you were following him and your sister around town, begging to be included. Traipsing after them to bars, the mini golf course, and to any and all dates. Even though you knew your sister couldn’t stand it.
But Harry was nice and always inclusive. After all, he was your friend before he was your sister’s boyfriend. And he was determined to make sure that didn’t change, no matter how many times Atta rolled her eyes.
"I don't know how you put up with me," you finally admit. "God, I was so annoying. Atta used to get so mad at me for never leaving you alone."
He shrugs one shoulder up. "You weren't annoying to me. I liked it. I mean, I liked that you still felt so...safe? Around me? I guess?"
"Yeah, I did.” You smile. “Honestly, I think you were my best friend.”
He laughs as he looks back over. "I better have been.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Cause you were mine.”
"Good."
He smirks. "Remember how you used to fall asleep on my shoulder every time we watched a movie?”
"That's right," you groan, burying your face into the palm of your hand. "See? Annoying."
"Not annoying. Cute."
"It was not cute, it was annoying. And you know she hated it.”
“I don’t care. She fell asleep on my shoulder, too. It was nice.”
You snort. “It was weird, let’s face it. But I swear I've outgrown such habits."
He seems to hesitate for only a moment, eyes flicking between yours. "Too bad."
A beat.
You feel your stomach flip as you look away, breaking you both free of the tension. "So...what, um...what brings you to town? I was a little surprised to hear from you."
He takes the cup of coffee the waitress had poured him and slides it closer. "Oh, yeah, I'm...I'm here on business. And I remembered you lived here, so...I thought I’d reach out.”
"I see."
"Yeah.” He hesitates again. "And...I missed you."
You can’t fight the flutter in your chest. "I missed you, too, Har."
The conversation lulls as the busy diner continues to bustle around you. And despite how glad you are to see him, something feels...off. Different.
You aren't sure what. Can't quite put your finger on it. It almost feels like it used to, but something has changed. He looks like your Harry. He sounds like your Harry. He feels like your Harry. And yet, he feels like a stranger.
Maybe it's because it's been so long since you've seen him. Maybe it's because you aren't twenty-three anymore. Or maybe it’s because now he’s no longer Harry, your sister’s boyfriend.
Now he’s just
Harry. Your old friend.
When you notice the way he’s staring, your eyes narrow. “What?”
"Nothing." He shrugs again before chuckling under his breath. "No, nothing. Sorry, I just...I don't know. It's just...so strange to see you again. Like this."
"Like...this?"
"Yeah. Just us. Alone. No Atta.”
“Ah.” You swallow. “Right.”
“It’s not
weird, is it? I mean, it is weird but it’s not
uncomfortable, right?”
“No,” you rush to assure him. “No, I wanted to meet you. What happened with you two has nothing to do with me.”
He glances down at his lap. “Right.”
There’s an edge to the memory that wasn’t there before, yet despite your curiosity, you bite your tongue.
“What about you?” you say instead. “What have you been up to in the last five years?”
He smirks. “Oh, not much.”
“Uh-huh. You think I’ve grown up, you’re basically an old man now.”
“Yeah, yeah, all right. I’m only 34.”
“That’s still six years older than me, which makes you old.”
“Thanks.”
“I’m serious. You're not that idiot on a motorcycle anymore. Now you say things like, 'I'm in town on business,” and you wear expensive suits, and ridiculous watches."
He glances down at the aforementioned object on his wrist. "In my defense, this was a gift.”
“Sure.” 
“It was,” he insists. His eyes flick over your face. “Look, I would have reached out sooner, but
after we broke up, I figured you wouldn’t want me to. I mean, you had just started your new job, and I knew it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to be a side, so
”
“There were no sides,” you argue softly. “You both just
grew apart. You wanted different things.”
“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I know it hurt her. It hurt me, too. And it was weird having to say goodbye to all of you. And leave all those memories behind. You were both such a huge part of my life."
"Yeah," you whisper. "You were a huge part of mine, too."
"Does Atta know you're meeting me?"
"No. Didn't really think it was any of her business. This is about us, not her."
His brow raises. "Would she be mad if she did?"
"I don't know,” you admit. “Probably not, but...would it really matter?"
"Of course it would. I'd never want to get in the way of your relationship."
"You aren't," you insist. "Look, she's dating somebody anyway. And I'm sure you are, too. You've both moved on. We're just...old friends catching up, and she'd have to understand that."
He seems to consider this before saying, "Yeah. I'm not, though."
"You're not...what?"
"Seeing anybody," he clarifies, tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip. "Haven't really dated anybody since she and I broke up."
"Oh, Harry," you murmur. "I'm...I'm sorry—"
"No. No, don't be," he insists. "It wasn't...I've just been busy. Working at the firm and renovating my house. I've gone on some dates but nothing serious. I just...haven't met the right person, I guess."
"The right person, huh?" you muse teasingly as you take a sip of your drink. "Okay, and what does Harry Styles' right person look like?"
He exhales an amused chuckle. "God, I don't know. I don't really think I'm that picky. Just...anybody I can get along with, I suppose."
"That's it? No, 'They need a fat ass and the ability to make me a sandwich?'"
He grins so big, the corners of his eyes crinkle. "For fuck's sake. No, nothing like that. Look, I don't know. Call me old fashioned, but...I think sometimes you meet somebody, and you can just...tell. You know? There's this energy, this shift. You look at them...and it all just makes sense.”
And as he looks you, waiting for you to consider this
the air shifts.
"Yeah," you agree quietly, allowing your attention to fall down his features and land on his lips. "Yeah, that's...you're right."
He seems to notice the way your focus has wandered because he quickly clears his throat and looks back down at his mug. "What, um...what about you? I'm assuming you're seeing somebody."
You look away as well, willing yourself to calm. "Oh? And why do you assume that?"
"Come on," he nearly snorts, eyebrow cocking. "Look at you. You're beautiful and you're smart and you have this effortless ability to make anyone around you feel good. Who wouldn't want to date you?"
"Well...pretty much every male in the city," you retort. "I don't know. I've tried dating but...there's always something missing. It never really feels quite right."
"Yeah. I know what you mean," he hums. "There's this...disconnect. Like you're forcing something that you know isn't right."
"Exactly! It's not that I don't want to find somebody, I just...haven't. It's not as easy as it is with you."
His head tilts. "With me?"
"Yeah, you know," you sigh, hands waving about the air as you try to explain your point. "I haven't seen you in five years but we still, just...picked right back up, you know? As if no time had passed. We're still just us. We can talk, and we can laugh, and we don't have to force anything."
He nods. "Right."
"I mean, honestly? Sometimes I think it would be easier to date somebody I already know. The problem is that all the guys I know are assholes. And too immature, I guess. They've got no sense of purpose, no drive. And it’s not like I need to be taken care of, but
it’d be nice to know they could. You know?”
"Yeah. You need someone with a good head on their shoulders."
"Exactly. I need someone who feels more like an equal than this thing I need to take care. I want to date a man, not a Tamagotchi."
He laughs again and the sound brings the butterflies back to your stomach. You feel proud to have amused him. And even more proud of the way he casually places a hand on your arm as he takes a deep breath. 
When he lets go, you look down at the spot on your skin as if you can still see outline of his fingers. 
"You'll find somebody," he tells you, and you do your best to ignore the sparks dancing up the back of your neck. "You will. And they'll be perfect for you. Old enough to know better and wise enough to do it right."
You place your palm over the spot he once touched, squeezing it gently. "Yeah. Hey, and you, too. Anybody would be lucky to have you."
His eyes linger on yours. "Yeah?"
You smile. "Yeah."
The next few minutes are devoted to sharing stories about your families. He asks how your parents are, you ask about his. He tells you about his job and you tell him about your roommate. You recall every detail of the past five years, and once you've finally caught up to today, he pays for your drinks, and offers to walk you home.
You make your way along the busy streets of the city as Harry tells you that he's thinking about getting a cat. You laugh and tell him that he'd make a wonderful cat dad, and he seems to flush.
You wonder why.
Fifteen minutes later, you're walking up the steps to your building, already apologizing for the messy state of your apartment before he's even stepped foot inside.
He snorts the implication away, assuring you that no matter what, it can't be worse than how Atta used to keep her place.
And the mention of your sister breeds an odd feeling in your chest. Unease, and this strange tinge of jealousy. Like you're almost peeved at him for bringing her up. For reminding you that he's seen the inside of her room before.
But you shake it away as you push the door open, refusing to linger on the thought.
"Well...this is it," you declare, stepping aside to let him enter. "Probably looks smaller than you remember, but
it does the trick.”
He takes a moment to glance over your knickknacks and decor before he grins. “I love it.” 
"Really?"
"Yeah." He shoves his hands into his expensive coat pockets and nods. "Yeah, really. It feels...fitting."
"What do you mean?"
"I don’t know. It just feels like you.”
Your teeth gnaw on the inside of your cheek as you walk to the kitchen. "Well...thanks. I think."
You offer him a glass of water, to which he declines, before you join him back by the door. You're not sure that you’re quite ready to say goodbye, but you know he can't stay forever.
You wonder if you actually want him to.
You wonder if it would be so bad if you did.
"This was
really nice," he says as he takes a half-step through the doorframe. "Really, Dot. I'm proud of you. And everything you’ve done. And I'm really glad that I can still call you my friend after everything."
Your heart starts to pound a little harder inside your chest. "Yeah, me too. I really missed you, Har. I hope we can catch up again soon."
The side of his mouth curls up as his eyes soften. "I'd like that."
With that, he moves into the hall, and you close the door behind him.
The feeling that follows is...strange. Overwhelming. Like something is wrong. Like something has just been ripped away from you. 
Like something is missing.
You feel on edge. Off-balance. Confused and unsure and you have no idea why. There’s a pain in your stomach that wasn’t there before and a hollowness in your heart that didn’t exist before you saw him.
Suddenly, there's a sharp knock on your door. "Dot?"
He's back.
Confused and slightly excited, you swing it back open to find him braced against your frame. He’s quiet as he studies you, brows woven together in what appears to be deep thought before he strides back inside your apartment and begins to pace your floor.
"Okay," he begins. Strained. "Okay, tell me...tell me this isn't just me. Tell me this isn't just in my head."
You shut the door.  "What do you mean?”
He looks at you before frantically gesturing between your two bodies. "This. This thing we’ve been doing all afternoon. Tell me it's not just me. Tell me you feel it.”
And you're almost certain you know what he means, but the implication of it scares the shit out of you.
So, you simply tilt your head. "Har...feel what? I don't know what you're talking about—"
"Us.” He stares at you. “Us, there's something...there's something different here. Something that wasn't here before."
"Like...?"
"Like...like the way you look at me," he says, eyes on yours as you feel your heart begin to race. "You never used to look at me that way."
Your lashes flutter, and suddenly, you feel acutely aware of the way you've begun to gawk at him. Have you been looking at him differently?
"And the way you speak to me," he continues. "Talking about needing someone to take care of you. Someone older. Someone...more mature."
You swallow.
He takes a step closer. "And all day, you've just...you’ve found a way to brush your hand against mine. Or your arm. And you laugh at everything I say, even when it isn't funny. And I know you. I know this can't be what I think it is, but...you gotta tell me I'm not going crazy. You have to tell me it's not just...me."
And you realize now that you have an easy way out. You could brush off the accusation and tell him that it is just in his head. That he's your sister's ex-boyfriend, and he's your friend, and that you would never make a pass at him.
But then you say, "
what if it wasn't just you?"
He goes still, lips parting as he leans back. Almost as if struggling to understand what you've just said.
Truth be told, you're struggling to understand it yourself. You hadn't realized just how differently you'd been acting toward him. Or that you’d begun to wonder what would happen if he was your Harry instead of hers.
Because he’s not hers anymore. He’s just a man. A very attractive man. With a job, and a house, and enough emotional maturity not to make a fart joke every three minutes.
And it's not your fault that you're starting to see him in a different light. It's been years. Five whole years since you've spoken to him and you're both adults now. Completely different people, and would it really be the worst thing if you wondered what could have been?
"Dot
" he begins slowly, clearly wrestling with what he wants to say, "
you don't
I don't think you really know what you're doing."
You take a step as well, challenging him. "What am I doing?"
"You're...you're—" His fingers find the bridge of his nose as he squeezes. Hard. "Fuck, Dot. Don't
don't do this—"
"Do what? Flirt with you?"
His palms fly to his ears with a wince. "Stop. No, you didn't...you didn't say that. You're not flirting with me. You're not flirting with me—"
"What if I am?" you retort, following after him with a surge of confidence you didn’t realize you had. "Why would that be so wrong?"
"Because,” he scoffs, shooting a stern look your way. "You’re Atta’s little sister. And we’re friends. And you’re basically a child—"
"I'm not a child," you remind him. "I'm twenty-eight. I've been making capable decisions for quite some time now—"
"But not this," he hisses, the muscles in his neck straining. "Not
shit. You can't do this. You can't—”
"Why not? You said it yourself, there's something different here—"
"But not this—"
"Why not?"
"Because
you're you," he huffs. "You're...you're my best friend, and my ex’s little sister, and I’m
I’m just this big, bad man come to ruin you.”
And somehow, the idea goes straight to your cunt.
"You're not ruining me, Harry," you say, even though you wish he would. "We’re adults. Old friends catching up and realizing that maybe things can be different now."
He takes in a breath. "But they can't be. They can't be different—"
"Why—"
"Because it's not right—"
"What's not right? What?" you argue. "Is it just the age difference? Is it Atta? Is it that you aren't attracted to me, because I know you were flirting with me, too—"
His entire face twists into a grimace as he inhales sharply and presses his hands back over his ears. "God. Don't say that—"
"You were," you insist. "Like it or not, I'm not the little girl you used to know. All right, and there's...there's nothing wrong with us testing the waters—"
He steels himself, arms dropping back to his sides. "We can't."
"Why?" you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. "Why can't we? Huh? We're not breaking any rules. We're not doing anything illegal. I don't see what's so wrong with just trying—"
"I'd ruin you," he says again, with so much conviction that it makes your stomach drop. "I would ruin any chance you had at a normal relationship—a normal life. All right, being with me...it would complicate everything. And I'd never do that to you—"
"I'm not asking you to marry me. I'm just asking you to try—"
"Try what?"
"Try seeing." You take another step, making sure you have his full attention. "Just
try seeing if what we think is here is actually here. If maybe we were meant to find each other again after all this time. If this is where it all finally makes sense."
He considers this for a moment. Considers you. And you aren't sure when you suddenly became so enamored by the thought of Harry, but you’re here now. And he’s here. And there’s a shift.
And it feels right.
Then, his head begins to shake. "No. No, I know better. I have to know better. I have to do better than this. I can't...God, I can't believe I'm even...no. No, you mean too much to me for me to ruin this."
You feel your chest deflate as your lips press into a thin line. And you stare at him. You stare and you see the indecision and anguish on his face. You see the way he wrestles with the idea you've given him. The way he wrestles with himself.
The way he wrestles with you.
You don't want to push him. Because you know this is something you can never take back. And maybe there's just too much adrenaline in your veins right now. Maybe you aren't thinking straight, and once he leaves and the moment passes, you’ll wonder what you were so worked up about anyway.
But right now, all you feel is disappointment.
"Fine," you whisper, and his eyes soften. "No, fine. You're right. You're right, this is...I never should have said anything. I was
confused. I was just happy to see you again and I thought it was something else, but
you're right. It's nothing. And I don't wanna be your mid-life crisis. I just want us to be friends again.”
Your tiny apartment falls silent as you both settle onto this conclusion. As you let your heartbreak dangle in the air.
Then, his fingers between to flex and his teeth begin to grit, and watch in real time as he starts to change his mind.
Then, he murmurs, “Oh, fuck it.”
Next thing you know, he's closing the gap between you, taking hold of your face and kissing you hard.
You don’t have time to process it. Don’t even care to process it. But you don’t care. Because everything makes sense now.
So, you feel him. Surrender to him. Indulge in the dominate pull of his hands on your jaw as he takes a taste of you on his tongue. As he presses his hips so hard into yours that you feel your knees go weak.
You make a noise in your throat as he goes deeper, and he growls. Like he's fighting himself. Fighting the urge to take as he begins roughly walking you back until you’re slammed against the wall.
He knows exactly what he's doing in a way that younger men never have. He makes you feel both taken care of and somehow, still completely helpless. You don't have to think about anything with him because he does everything. 
He presses his strong, tall frame into yours until he practically disappears into you. His large hand grips onto the back of your neck as you whimper, taking control of the moment—of you—until the only thought left in your head is just more.
And you don't doubt that he'd give you more if you asked, but before you can, he pulls back, and puts the moment on pause.
You feel breathless. Dejected. Wilting in his hold as he meets your eye and looks for your reaction.
But he won’t find it. And you bite back a whine as you wait for him to come back.
He sweeps his thumbs along your cheek before sighing to himself. "Dot..."
You feel your stomach turn at the nickname. At the way it comes out raspy and desperate. "Don’t say it."
But he does, anyway. "We shouldn't do this."
"I know," you murmur, fingers disappearing into his hair while he seems to nestle into your touch. "I know, but I want to. I want to, Har. So
please don’t make me lose you again.”
Another beat passes before he groans and presses his forehead to yours. “God,” he nearly growls, and the sound makes your thighs squeeze together. “Dot—”
"I won't tell," you promise while his jaw clenches. "I won't, I swear. I'll be your secret."
Just like that, the hand he placed on your thigh tightens. Squeezing until you're squirming beneath him. He’s losing his conviction and you’re losing your patience.
"This is wrong," he mumbles. "S'wrong, Dot. I can't do this to you. Can't do this with you...I can't...I know better. I have to do better.”
You tug on his hair as you straighten up, whining beneath a strained breath. "I don’t want you to do better. I want you to do me.”
He exhales deeply with this, nose running down the side of your face as his lips travel to your neck. He seems to take refuge there, subtly pressing kisses to your throat as he thinks. "I want to," he tells you softly. "You have no idea how badly I want to. How badly I want to do everything for you. Show you how a real man fucks. Until you see stars.”
"Har," you just about gasp, anxious to have him do just that. "Please...please—"
"Fuck." His thigh slots between the both of yours and you writhe against him, searching for anything you might find. "Be so easy to take you. Be so easy to show you what you're missing. To wreck you until you’re begging for more—"
"So do it," you plead, pulling on him until his mouth meets yours. "Do it, Har. Please. Just once. Just once, and I promise I'll be so good. Be so good for you. Won't ever ask you again—"
His hold on you grows more determined before he's ripping you away from the wall and slinging you toward your bed a few feet away.
He’s on you in seconds, hovering about where you lie as you greedily grab for him. "Promise me," he hisses as his palm slips beneath your shirt, and a needy whimper bleeds from your throat. "Promise me that this is what you want."
"I promise," you repeat quickly, arching into his touch. "Promise—"
"Promise me...that you'll be good," he says next, fingers brushing over the material of your bra. "That you'll behave. That you'll do exactly what I tell you."
"Yes," you breathe, eyes falling shut.
"Fucking promise me..." he continues as he scratches down your chest, "...that you won't tell. That you'll be my dirty little secret. That you'll be mine. That you'll let me ruin you and that you'll fucking thank me for doing it—"
The last domino falls. Crashes to the ground as you tug him down to you so you can kiss him. So, you can prove your loyalty. Prove that this is everything you’ve ever wanted.
You feel him smile.
"You little fucking minx,” he purrs.
Your skin warms as Harry's stunned but unceasingly enthralled gaze lingers on the red lace of your underwear. However, his fingers move instead for your hips. His hauntingly empty touch ghosting across the fabric of your underwear as you anxiously await contact.
But he doesn't give it to you. Not quite, not yet. He just wants to look at you. Wants to drink you in. Allow himself the privilege of seeing what he never has before.
"Did you wear these just for me, little one?" he asks in a gravely drawl, eyes flicking up to yours from where he lays between your thighs. 
You swallow as you look across your stomach at him. You're not sure why you picked out this particular set today. Perhaps it was a subconscious choice or perhaps destiny was simply on your side.
"Maybe," you murmur, nails curling into your palm as you work in shallow breaths. God, you need him to touch you. Need him to do something about the mess that's sitting two inches in front of his face.
The very same mess he's pretending he doesn't notice.
Your response encourages a smirk as he hums and glances back down at the little white bow placed delicately in the center. "S'cute, Dot," he says softly, pinching the ribbon between his thumb and forefinger. "Fucking precious, actually. Knowing you got yourself all dolled up. Just to see me."
He pulls his lip between his teeth and glances back over your face. He's amused by the weary and desperate expression you wear and you're two seconds away from groaning.
His touch moves down. Down, down, down until the pad of his finger brushes over your clit. 
You tense before releasing a shaky exhale. 
Satisfied with this reaction, he moves even lower. Until he finds that growing wet patch that's beginning to hurt.
"What's this?" he coos, looking down toward the darkened red fabric. "Oh, darling...s'this for me, too?"
You're not sure where your quippy attitude from before has gone because now you can do nothing but nod mutely as you shift beneath his hand.
"Yeah?" His eyebrow raises as he grins at you. "Is this what has you so anxious?"
You give him another nod.
He hums. "Think I need to see for myself, hm?" He smirks and pats his palms against your hips. "Take these off for me."
You quickly reach down to hook your fingers around the hem of your underwear and drag them down your thighs. Once they've been pulled from your body, you get ready to toss them onto the other side of the bed. But before they can be flicked from the tips of your fingers, Harry snatches them with his fist.
"Uh-uh," he tuts as he tucks them into his suit's breast pocket. "These are mine now."
You suck in a sharp, eager pant. "Har—"
"Shh." He settles back onto his stomach, hands curling around your thighs to guide them apart and allow him a better visual. "M'busy, little one."
But it’s nearly impossible to stay quiet as his warm breath fans across your pussy, making the mess that much more obvious to you both. In fact, you can practically see the glistening reflection in his eye as he studies your cunt in the most intimate of ways.
You're not sure what he wants. What he's doing or planning or thinking. And you don't know why, but the way he stares at you does more for the apprehensive coil in your gut than him actually touching you has.
Finally, he makes another satisfied noise deep within the back of his throat before he brings his fingers back to you.
Two are placed just above your clit before he teasingly drags them down. However, when your hips buck up, he merely shoves them back down with a tsk.
Once you’re still, he starts again. Easing himself through your folds as he spreads you with the utmost glee. Fascinated by the way your body feels, the way it reacts to him.
His tongue sits between his lips as he ventures down, and the moment he finds the pooling of arousal waiting for him...you see the muscles in his neck contract.
"Darling
" The nickname is whispered across your body as he scoots closer. "Bet this hurts, doesn't it?"
"Yes," you reply instantaneously, straining around the singular word as you resist the urge to whimper. 
He circles the tip of his finger around your aching hole, almost as if to test you. "Oh, precious girl...how long, hm? How long have you been in so much pain?"
Truthfully, since you hugged him at the diner.
"All day," you say aloud, hands gripping onto the duvet beneath you. "All day, Har. Been thinking about you all day."
And that is the honest answer. You'd been anxiously awaiting your meeting from the moment you woke up.
But he smiles as if he knows better, despite the way he seems to bask in your response. "All day, hm? And what were you gonna do if I never came back? Were you just gonna sit here and rub your pretty thighs together?"
Your heart skips while your hands gather atop of your stomach.
His brow raises. "No? Well then how were you gonna take care of it, hm?"
For a moment, you think this is simply rhetorical, but the longer the silence stretches, the more obvious it becomes that he expects an answer.
You swallow the odd lump in your throat. "How do you think?"
"Uh-uh," he chastises again. "I wanna hear you say it. Want you to tell me exactly how you were gonna fix this little problem of yours had I not been here."
Your head flops back against the pillows as you glare at the ceiling. He's always been rather infuriating but now he's a menace.
"Dot..." He's warning you. Calling you back. Urging you not to be so bratty.
With a tentative sigh, you look back at him. "My...vibrator."
He perks up. "Yeah?"
You nod faintly. 
"Tell me how," he instructs next, jutting his chin toward you. "Better yet...show me. Show me how you've been taking care of yourself all these years."
Feeling rather embarrassed under the spotlight of such an intimate request, you shyly look over toward your nightstand and outstretch a hand. After pulling the drawer open, you slip inside and find the purple wand that's just small enough to fit snugly inside your palm.
And Harry watches with a certain wonder in his eye as you bring the dainty toy closer. Yet, he says nothing while you slowly guide it toward your stomach and down to your thighs.
But he does, however, shift in order to make room, scooting back by a hair to allow you the space you need to place the head right above your aching clit.
For some reason, doing something so private in front of him feels...odd. Strange and almost unsettling. And perhaps that's just nerves, but you can't deny the heat that rushes to your face as he looks between you and the vibrator.
"S'this it, then?" he murmurs, a hint of teasing laced within the remark. "Don't even have to turn it on?"
Your thumb taps against the power button, a nervous tic, although you refrain from switching the toy on just yet. "No..."
His smirk is borderline haughty. "Then what do you do, little one? How do you use it?"
You say nothing. You hold his stare, and you hold a deep breath, and you hold the wand to your glistening cunt.
Then...you flip the switch.
The soft, dainty vibrations echo across the room, across your bodies, and across your clit as it's met with the instant stimulation of the pulsating wand.
You choke on a gasp as you return your eyes to the ceiling, allowing for the feeling to take control of each remaining sense.
And as you do, Harry's hands make themselves known to you as they begin to smooth up your legs, helping guide your thighs further apart once again.
There's an ever-so-slight stretch that follows as your muscles are pulled, and the distinctive burn makes your lashes flutter shut.
"There you go," he whispers. "So pretty, darling. God, could watch you do this all day."
Truthfully, you imagine you’re quite a sight. After all, you’ve watched yourself before. You know how it looks. Know exactly the kind of visual fantasy Harry is witness to right now.
So, you play it up, give him a show. After all...he's got a front row seat.
You rotate the head slowly, circling down and around your hole before retreating and dragging the object back up and through.
And you shiver every time it brushes against that particular sweet spot. Every time the pulses slow just to speed up once more. It's almost torturous the way your body is being bent to such salacious desires. And cruel the way you're forced to do this while he only watches.
A whimper slips free, and you arch off the bed, pressing the toy as tight against your body as you can stand.
You hear Harry chuckle. 
"Easy," he warns before you feel his fingers curl around your wrist, encouraging your grip to relax. "Take it slow, Dot. Not in a hurry, are you?"
"No," you breathe, head shaking zealously. "No, m'just...feels good."
"Does it?" He almost sounds surprised. "Hm. Interesting. Seeing as you're doing it wrong."
Your head lifts.
He glances toward the vibrator. "May I?"
You nod.
Pleased, he slips the toy free from between your fingers and clears his throat. Focused eyes landing on your body as he readies the bullet. 
Then...he begins.
It meets your clit—an innocent, familiar touch—before it's instantly being dragged down. He's slow with it. Giving you enough time to feel each particular flutter and twitch. 
Your soft gasps and grateful sighs carry him further, until the tiny head of the toy is swimming through your arousal. You fall still, attention locked on the man by your knees. 
But he’s still focused. Soft, green eyebrows weaving together as his pretty cherry lips stretch into a smile.
Something changes—everything changes—when he slips the head inside. Your entire body ripples from the vibrations as you stumble over his name and squirm across the mattress.
He only laughs before placing his arm overtop your stomach to keep you cemented to the bed. "None of that. Stay still for me."
"Har," you whisper, depleted of any strength. "Please..."
"What, little one? What do you want?"
"I need...please, I'm..."
"What? Does it feel good?"
"Yes. Yes...yes, feels so good. Please..."
"Please what? What do you want, sugar?"
More. Everything. Anything. "Fuck, I'm—don't stop. Please don't stop."
"Oh, darling," he breathes. "I'd never dream of it."
He takes the toy out and moves it back to your clit, circling gently a few times before pressing down hard. 
And you almost miss the full feeling it provided as it was eased into you, but before you can dwell for too long...Harry's extending his fingers and slipping them into your cunt.
Not one, but two of those beautiful digits push past your walls and begin to stretch you, ripping a gasp from your throat at the simultaneous stimulation. 
"Attagirl," he murmurs from below, and you can hear the smug undertone. "That's what you wanted, hm? Needed something to fill you."
Your chest heaves, the red lace of your bra lifting and falling as you roll your head back. "God, Har—"
"Tell me, darling," he continues, easing himself out just to push back in. "Were you gonna use your own fingers? If I wasn't here? Gonna ride your pretty little hand?"
You can't tell if he already knows the answer or if he just wants to picture your hand between your thighs.
Either way, you pant out, "Mhm."
"Yeah? How many, honey? How many were you gonna use?"
"...two."
He tsks, seemingly disappointed with this answer. "Just two? Hm. And would it have felt like this, darling? Would they be able to do it for you the way mine can?"
To accompany this ask, he curls upward, nearly yanking the pleasure out of you as you choke on a cry and writhe away from him. 
"Fuck—" Your teeth tug on your bottom lip. "Shit, Har—"
"Is that a no, then?" He thrusts his fingers out and back in again. "Would you have gotten yourself this wet...with just your own hand?"
The sound of him slipping through your arousal meets your ear as you groan and look down.
"No?" He adds a third finger while making sure to keep the wand of the vibrator exactly where it needs to be. "What about when you thought of me? Would that have done it for you, sugar? Thinking of me while you soaked your sheets? While you dripped down your knuckles as you fucked yourself?"
You've never heard a man talk to you this way. You already knew his experience superseded that of any man you'd been with before but this. None of those other boys ever knew how. But Harry...God. He knows just what to say. Knows exactly what you need to hear, and it overwhelms you.
"Har...Har—"
"Need an answer," he reminds you, but when you refuse to offer him one, he takes himself away. His fingers, the toy, his body. Leaning away completely as your pussy goes completely quiet.
"Harry," you just about moan, pushing up onto your elbows to leverage the playing field. "You...I'm...I was just—"
"Disobeying," he answers for you. "That's what you were doing. And I don't think that's fair, do you?"
You frown. You know this tone he's taking with you. Authoritative and condescending. It makes you huff. "Fine. I'll try again."
"Good girl," he murmurs, nodding at you as if to encourage confidence.
"I...wait, what was the question again?"
He smiles at this, releasing an amused chuckle beneath his breath before crawling back to you. His hands find the mattress beside your hips and he settles between your parted thighs, lips dangerously closer now.
And you can smell him. Smell his cologne, and his aftershave, and his shampoo. Can feel the heat radiating off his body, even through the expensive suit. Can see how much he wants to take care of you—ruin you. As promised.
"Do you get yourself this wet...when I'm not around?" he repeats, and the tip of his nose brushes against yours.
Your breath hitches. "No."
The answer was always obvious, but you know he needed to hear you say it. 
"Do you touch yourself...the way I touch you?" 
"No."
"Can you make yourself come the way I can?"
"God, no—" you gasp before taking hold of his face and smashing his mouth against yours.
His lips are perfect and his kiss is perfect and the two of you are perfect together. A connection so seamless, so effortless...it's as if you were always meant to be.
A ridiculous notion, you think to yourself, but right now...it's quite nice.
He pulls himself back just enough to meet your eye and offer a devious grin. "Then let’s find out, hm?"
Rough fingertips travel up the length of your inner thigh, forming goosebumps in the wake. You shiver, ready to receive his touch once again before he dances right past your cunt, and up your hip. 
He moves for the lace on your chest, tugging on the wire between your breasts with a disappointed tsk.
"I want this gone," he decides, plucking it from your skin. "Need to see all of you, Dot."
And before you can even reach back to undo the hook, he's looping an arm underneath your back, lifting you up, and flicking the clasp free. 
Once done, he yanks the bra down your arms and body before flinging it somewhere behind him.
Your eyes shut as your naked chest is revealed to him, heart hammering against your ribcage.
But then, you feel those lips again. He wraps his mouth around your left nipple before you can even whisper his name, sucking on you as though he's determined to make you see stars.
Which you do the moment his teeth pull on the sensitive skin. And you can't help but mewl as his tongue flicks cruel and merciless patterns against before moving for your collarbone.
He groans as he goes, situating his knee between your legs and pressing it directly against your cunt. His other hand gropes at your right breast, kneading at the tender flesh until his mouth reaches your neck. He nips at a vein just below your jaw and you arch up into him, chest knocking into his.
He sucks sweet bruises into the curve of your throat before licking apologies over the newly ruined skin. It's slow and painful and beautifully good.
Everything about him is beautiful and good.
His entire body seems to cater to yours as he cages you to the mattress and easily pulls whimpers from your throat. As he touches you, and pleases you, and knows you in a way nobody else ever has. 
You grind yourself against his leg before glancing down. And that’s when you notice the way your arousal has begun to soak through his nice pants. The way a dark little patch seeps into the fancy—and expensive—material. A sight both erotic and humiliating.
Your whimper forces his eyes to where yours reside, and he smirks when he sees your mess.
"What's the matter, little one?" he asks, taking his hand from your tit and using it to grab onto your jaw. "Are you embarrassed?"
You nod, despite his hold.
"Oh, my dirty little girl,” he hums. “I don't mind you soaking my trousers. But I'd rather you soak my cock."
You'd rather that, too, and you're more than grateful when he leans back to undo his belt. You don't know where this will lead you. If you’ll fuck him and then lose contact for another five years. 
Or if you’ll fuck him and change everything.
But right now, you don't mind. You'll happily exist in this moment with him. In these bad decisions until you're coming so hard, you forget your own name.
He leans back to begin ridding himself of his clothes and you scramble upward to help him along. Your greedy hands grab at his jacket and his shirt, wrestling them down his arms and off his broad chest. Wanting to see him the way he can see you.
You nearly moan when his inked skin is revealed to you. You knew he'd gotten a few tattoos in college, and even some a bit after. But seeing them now, painted across such a tan, toned canvas makes your head spin.
"Easy," he laughs, reaching out to swipe his thumb beside your mouth to collect the pooling drool. "Save some for me, hm?" 
But you can't. Instead, you take his finger between your lips and bury it beside your tongue.
Surprised, his lashes flutter. But once you realize he won’t be able to undo his pants without both hands, you regretfully pop his digit free. Allowing him to slip out of his briefs until his cock springs free.
He’s
perfect. Still. Somehow. Red and swollen and leaking just for you. And you clench from the mere thought of having something so beautiful inside you.
You crawl closer, eager for a taste, but Harry simply grabs hold of your chin.
"Yes, little one?" he murmurs, using his other hand to hold his cock. "Did you want  something?"
You nod and lean forward another inch.
"All right," he concedes, pumping himself before subtly tugging you down. "Just a taste, honey. Since you've been so good."
He leads your mouth to him and without a moment's hesitation, you outstretch your tongue, and drag it along the underside.
You revel in the way you feel him twitch. In the way he exhales a deep breath through parted lips while moving his fingers to your hair, guiding you closer but not too close. Just enough to get him on your tastebuds.
You hum when you reach the tip, eager to indulge in the pre-cum already beading in pearly drops. And the vibrations from your eager appreciation make the muscles in his stomach quiver as he curses your name.
However, you barely get the chance to wrap your mouth around him before he's yanking on your hair, and straightening you back up.
"What did I say?" he hisses. "Don't be greedy, Dot."
"I'm sorry," you whisper, swallowing the bit of him still lingering in your mouth. "M'sorry, won't do it again."
"No, you won't. Or I'll go back on my promise."
"No," you whine, needy fingers wrapping around his wrist to keep him close. "No, won't do it again. I promise."
You know he’s amused with your desperation, and even though you're slipping fast, he can't help but be entertained. "We'll see, little one."
With a fervent motion of your head, you scramble back to the pillows to lay down, legs spreading as if to invite him in.
He smirks as he strokes his cock a time or two more while settling himself between your thighs. You imagine he could have you in a number of ways, a plethora of positions. But he chooses this. He chooses to see your face this first time. To see every ounce of pleasure etched within your features.
And truth be told, you don't mind. You could stare at him forever.
"Do you have any condoms?" he asks next, dipping down to press his lips to yours for only a second. "Or would you prefer to go without?"
You consider this. You're on birth control and you do have a bit of a creampie kink, so you shake your head. 
"Without," you answer quickly before lifting an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like to?"
"No," he chuckles, placing a kiss to your nose this time. "Just wanted to make sure. Promised to take care of you, and that's what I plan to do."
Your heart flutters.
"Okay, gonna need you to be good, honey," he tells you now, large palm landing on your hip to steady you. "Gonna need you to take me and do as I say, all right? And I'll make it worth it."
"I will," you agree quickly, fingers traveling up the dips in his arms, ghosting over each muscle until you reach his shoulders. "Be so good, Har, promise."
"Uh-uh." His hand smacks against your inner thigh in warning before his thick eyebrow cocks up. "S'not my name, darling. Not right now."
Curious as to what he might mean, you study him for only a moment before you realize.
"I'm sorry, Sir."
Just like that, something in his demeanor switches. 
Truth be told, the name doesn't do much for you. But you revel in the way he feeds off it. Find absolute euphoria in the way he lights up at your obedience until you want nothing more than to please him again. To call him anything he wants as long as he keeps looking at you like that.
"Good girl," he growls beneath a deep breath before he's bringing his cock closer.
He starts by dragging it along your clit, making you jolt and buck before his hand splays across your stomach to force you back down.
"No," he says simply, eyes fixated on the torture he's currently implementing. 
He does it again, letting your swollen, puffy clit jump from the slight brush of his tip while he drags it through your arousal and shifts forward.
"Breathe," he orders next, stealing a quick glance at your puckered lips and wide eyes. “All right?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He slides in slowly, pushing past your tight walls, coaxing the muscles to stretch to his size.
At first, it's nothing more than a soft, easy sensation. Relaxing, in a sense as it aids the ache and fills the void his fingers left behind.
Then...he goes deeper. 
And this is what you'd been waiting for. The slight tension and subtle burn as your body is forced to accommodate him. You're thankful he goes slow. Not just because of the pain. But because you both want to watch.
You want to watch the way he pulls your body apart. Wanna watch him disappear into your tight hole that pulls him in. Wanna watch the way you flutter and clench and claim him the way he’s claiming you.
"Oh, that's my fucking girl," he groans to himself. "Fucking hell, Dot. Didn’t think you’d be so tight."
"Yeah, well
never had someone like you before," you tease, gauging your body's reaction by slowly rolling your hips up. 
"Yeah?" His hand lands on your throat, smoothing up the sides of your neck until he can squeeze a gasp from your lips. “Never, huh?”
You shake your head and with one quick thrust, he bottoms out, forcing a strangled cry as you arch into him.
“Never had someone stretch this pretty pussy the way it deserves, yeah?” He tsks again. “What a fucking shame.”
He rears back, and the pain and the pleasure that follow him out make your chest cave in.
However, he’s quickly driving himself back in before you can complain, pushing past the fluttering muscles once more as you keen and rake your nails down the blanket.
"Harry," you breathe, his name like a lifeline as you drown in his sin. 
But it earns you another firm smack to your outer thigh as he grunts his disapproval into your neck. "No," he warns before nipping just below your jaw. "You know better."
But really
you don’t. "Sir...please," you amend.
"Hm. S'a good girl," he praises. "Knew you'd behave for me, yeah? My perfect little toy—"
A rather debauched moan rips from between your gritted teeth as his hips ram into yours. You can feel him everywhere. In your stomach, in your head, in your heart. His legs against yours, his chest against yours, his entire body against yours until you're almost convinced he's gonna become one with your bloodstream.
Not that you'd mind.
His arm slips beneath you once more in order to lift you up and provide him with a new angle. Then, he thrusts himself into you again as your mouth hangs open in a silent gasp for air.
"There she is, that's what you needed. Yeah, little one?' He does it again, brushing against that one spot that makes your toes curl. "The other boys never did it, did they?"
You whine, knees bending besides his hips as you attempt to follow after him when he pulls back. 
But he's quick to tut and knock you back down onto your ass. "No. You don't rush me, darling. We do this my way. On my time. If I wanna stay here and fuck you nice and slow, then you’ll behave, and you’ll fucking take me.”
You’d like to agree, but he’s thrusting himself back in before you can.
"You will thank me for taking my time," he continues in a coarse cadence that seems to reverberate from his chest. "You will thank me...for being so goddamn good to you. And you will thank me
for doing it right."
"Harry, please—" you just about wail, hands finding his arms as you grasp on for dear life.
But the fingers around your throat tighten until the edges of your vision begin to blur.
"There you fucking go again," he growls, stilling his rhythmic attacks as he meets your eye. He seems to enjoy watching your focus go fuzzy. "Starting to think you like to be punished, hm? And here I thought you had a praise kink."
You clutch onto his wrist, nails scratching along the veins in his arm as he pounds into you at a harder pace.
But you don't mind. You enjoy watching him give into the voices inside his head. Enjoy the way his chocolate brown curls sweep across his forehead, the way his eyebrows weave together and the muscles in his jaw constrict.
For a 34-year-old man, he seems to possess quite a bit of stamina. He'd mentioned earlier his enjoyment for running and exercising, detailing his rather excessive and diligent routine.
And you'd smirked because you'd assumed he was showing off or because he was trying to stay ahead of the inevitable "dad-bod" in his future.
But now you understand why he's really so meticulous. He's a long way from looking his age. Apart from some subtle, but soft crinkles near his eyes and a few gray hairs that peek through the auburn waves, he looks rather youthful. 
And his body. You swallow another noise as you let your hungry gaze trail over every inch, every muscle, every quiver in his thighs as he braces himself above you.
Sir feels like a more appropriate title to you now. Because he is. He is your superior in this moment A man to be respected and revered. Someone who not only knows better,.but knows you. Knows your body and how to play it like an instrument. 
There's something exciting about submitting to him. Something tantalizing about being at his mercy. Most of the other men you've been with have felt more like your equals than anything else. Which you haven't minded in the least bit.
But the way Harry has managed to fit you into the submissive, subservient role so quickly suggests that perhaps...this is where you were always meant to be.
Beneath him.
"Oh, honey," he coos, a mix of condescension and amusement. "Can feel you squeezin' me. Need it so bad, don't you? Need to come, hm?"
"Yes. Yes," you whisper, nuzzling your face into his neck, lips eagerly pressing into the salty skin at your disposal. "Please, Ha—Sir. Please let me come. Can't...can't hold it—"
"You will,” he says before he’s grabbing hold of your wrist and hosting it above your head. Burying into the pillow and preventing you from reaching for your clit. “Forget it, Princess. Told you to take me. So you will. Exactly how I tell you.” 
"Sir—"
"I said no. I plan to keep you here for quite some time. Plan to feel you coming around my cock as many times as I see fit. And I expect you to behave for me the way you promised. Can you do that? Or do I need to stop?"
"No," you gasp, tears springing to your eyes at the very thought. "No, no, please—"
"Then what are you going to do?"
You swallow a moan and lift your chin proudly. "Take it."
A pleased smile crawls across his face as he hums and dips down to press his mouth to yours. "There she is," he murmurs, nipping at your bottom lip. "My good girl. Try to remember that, yeah? Or I'll keep you here all day."
However, that’s something else you wouldn't exactly mind, and you shiver as he pushes your knee into your chest.
"Fucking hell, Dot," he mumbles, eyes falling back down to where you're coating his cock. "Oh, my perfect toy. Look at the way you treat me, honey. Treat me so well, fucking soaking me, aren't you—"
"Yes, Yes, please
"
"I know. I know, little one. Feels so good to be filled, yeah? To be fucked the right way—"
"God, yes. More...please—"
"More, huh? Need more? Need me to make it better? Need me to fucking take—"
Suddenly, your phone rings.
The soft, melodic chime cuts through Harry’s vulgar response, bringing the moment to a close as his thrusts falter and he glances over.
God, you hate that stupid, evil, sadistic machine. Right now, you wish you'd never bought it. You wish you could throw it again the wall until it shatters into a thousand fucking pieces so as long as he just keeps going.
Instead, he searches your nightstand for the small device before he's releasing your leg in order to reach for it. 
"No, Har," you plead, attempting to grab onto his hand. "Just let it go to voicemail, it's fine—"
"But that wouldn't be very polite, now, would it?" he tuts, glancing over the screen. "And I think you need to take this, darling."
"Harry, please—"
"Shh," he says sharply. “You're gonna take this phone call and you're gonna use your word. And then, and you're gonna come for me."
His thumb hovers over the green button and he guides the phone to your ear. 
"And you're not gonna make a fucking sound," he adds, dropping his voice to a threatening hiss before pressing the receiver to your ear. "Or I fucking stop. Do you understand?"
You do your best to nod, and he smiles before tapping the screen.
Through a slight quiver, you say, "Hello?"
"Hey! Long time no talk, babe. How are you?"
Your eyes just about pop out of your head.
Atta.
Her cheerful tone and eager greeting make the blood drain from your face as you look up at the man hovering above you.
"Speak," he mouths with a wicked grin while nodding his chin at you. 
But you can't. You physically cannot get the words to come out of your mouth as Harry keeps the device glued to the side of your head.
"H...hi," you stammer, forcing a more confident cadence. "I'm...good. How...how are you?"
"Oh, I'm good. Good, yeah," your sister replies, and you hear a bit of shuffling. "Been working a lot. Got today off, which is nice. God, you'd never believe how much shit we have to go through since we changed our filing system—"
"Mhm," you reply right as Harry rams his hips into yours.
You gasp and quickly turn your head away from the phone in an attempt to keep the excitable noise from making it into the microphone. 
However, he uses his other hand to grasp onto your jaw and force you back. "No," he whispers, shooting you a stern look of warning. "You know better."
"—which is wild because we've been using the same program since '08," Atta is saying, although you can hardly hear her over the imminent pleasure rushing through your veins. "But...whatever. Once we're done, it'll make things so much easier. Which will be nice. I can cut back on my hours—"
"Yeah, mhm," you repeat, and it's outrageously strained as Harry pulls himself out, leaving you depraved and so goddamn empty.
You have to fight the urge to cry out for him, glancing down at the string of arousal that follows his cock. And it's almost too much for you to handle as you greedily reach for him once more.
However, he bats your hands away and brings his free fingers from your chin to your clit, rubbing into the sensitive nerves until you arch up.
"—so, yeah. What about you?"
Your eyes squeeze shut as that tightly wound ball of pleasure in your stomach expands. "I'm...I...good. I'm...good. You know, not...not a lot going on. At the moment."
Harry smirks to himself before sinking all the way back in and thrusting up.
Your lip fights its way between your teeth and you writhe beneath his chest while praying for the strength to stay quiet.
"Well...I guess no news is good news, yeah?" she chuckles. "Oh, hey, speaking of which...I heard that Harry's in town."
That's not the only thing he's in. 
"Oh?" you squeak, placing a palm on Harry's chest almost as if in retaliation. "He is?"
"Yeah. Saw it on Facebook," she answers, and you hear her move around. "Figured he might try to reach out. I know you guys are still on good terms, right?"
"Me and Harry?" you repeat pointedly, garnering a curious look from the aforementioned man. "Uh...we're...yeah. I guess. But we’re not
that close."
He grins.
"Well...I just thought I'd let you know in case he does," she says, and your lashes flutter shut as the guilt begins to find you.
"Would it be weird...if he did?" you ask before the patterns being traced against your clit make you whimper.
Terrified, you quickly cough in an attempt at burying the sound, but Atta doesn't seem to hear. 
"I mean...maybe? I don't know. He and I are fine, I think. And I know you two were friends. I guess you could at least...check on him. Make sure he's doing okay."
"Yeah," you breathe, sneaking a glance up. "I'm...I'm sure he's doing just fine."
Harry smiles once more before moving his palm to your thigh and pressing it into the bed to spread you at a different angle. 
"I hope," Atta sighs. "Anyway, I wanted to call and check in. Just to make sure everything is going okay for you—"
"Mhm, yeah. I'm...I'm glad you did," you blubber while attempting to send Harry a pointed look. You're close. So fucking close, and if he keeps going...
"Are you sure you're all right? You sound a bit flustered—"
"Yes. Yes, yes, I'm..." Your head shakes quickly, nails scratching down Harry's chest in warning. He needs to stop. He needs to stop or you won't make it. "I'm fine. I'm...a little under the weather, but I'm—" 
Suddenly, he sheathes himself inside your cunt, face burying in your neck with a groan as your entire body shivers.
"Are you sure? You kind of sound like you're in pain—"
"Listen, Atta, I...I gotta go—" you gasp, so close to your orgasm that you can practically taste it. “I’m sorry—”
"Oh, yeah. Hey, text me, okay? Just let me know that you're all right—"
"Mhm, yeah, I will—fuck—"
It happens before you can stop it. Ripping through every muscle and fiber in your body as you rake your fingers down Harry's back and choke on a moan.
Thankfully for you, Harry has already ended the call and thrown the phone to the other side of the room so he can loop his arm beneath your hips and tug you up into his body.
"Go," he breathes. "Give it to me. Come on, little one. Just like that. Good fucking girl, just like that. Let me feel you—"
Your room fills with the sound of his name, dancing effortlessly between the whimpers that follow.
It feels like you've touched heaven. A sensation so overwhelming and euphoric that you don't even realize his hand has returned to your throat. Don't realize he's squeezing your neck in his tight fist as he comes, filling your cunt with everything he has to give you.
You don't even realize you can't breathe, but you love it. Love the way he presses his teeth into your shoulder and presses his body into your chest. Until you're trapped against the mattress while you live through the high. 
Every joint in your body aches. Radiating pain and pleasure all at once as you hook your leg over his hip and snake your arms around his neck.
And you keep him inside of you for what feels like hours. Even after you've regained a bit of consciousness. And a bit of common sense.
Perhaps the moment he pulls out, you'll realize the mistake you've made. You’ll realize that this isn't a secret you can keep. Or a choice that you can ever choose again. And maybe he’ll realize it, too.
But until then

You’re happy to have your Harry back.
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~ Masterlist
Taglist: @littlenatilda @prettythingsworld @heartateasee @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @monicaalexandraaa
@cinnamonone @triski73 @lemoncrushh @vamprry @lady-lamb21
@lillefroe @kirstiea05 @ribbonknives @lunaharrygurl @harringtonhundreds
@swiftmendeshoran @sundresstyles @eldahae @becauseheartsgetbroken-hs
@hannahdressedasabanana @sykostyles @lukesaprince @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus
@lovrave @nuggetdean @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @babegoals @lc-fics
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ramonathinks · 6 months ago
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matters of the heart — Nanami K.
summary: finding out your ex-boyfriend wrote a novel detailing your relationship isn’t how you expected this week to go and to make matters worse everyone on the internet now thinks your “character” is a total bitch. you decide to pay your ex a visit, but can you do that without succumbing to your natural urges? well, no!
tags: 18+(MDNI/blank blogs) slight porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), brief nipple sucking, daddy kink, creampie, i guess nanami is a bit toxic in this lol, nanami might also be a bit ooc in here
to the moaners: has this been sitting in the draft for about 3-4 months? yes! but happy birthday month, kento 😚. artwork by @/_3aem (twt); @ryomens-vixen (this was the fic I mentioned a while back) word count: 5.6k (yuck), I don't really like this
I’m going to kill him, that was the only thing on your mind once you closed out of the novel. Normally, your weekends were spent relaxing with a fruity bubble-gum colored cocktail but today was different. Shoko called your phone at exactly 9:26 am claiming it was time she divulged some news to you. At exactly 9: 28am, she sent you an online copy of a book titled, “Matters of the Heart” and told you it was nothing but a two or three hour read and then to call once you finished. 
The book had a slow start and it seemed pretty average, just any old love story. Lately, anything was getting published and it seemed that was the case here — wait, you paused your reading and sat up straight. No. Just no. Something just clicked for you which led you to completely start over from page one. 
The moment you finished, at exactly 1:01 pm, you grabbed a salmon colored low cut shirt and light washed jeans, slipped on your white shoes and hurried to get into your car. You didn’t need to call her phone because you were going to talk to her face to face; this situation warranted a real conversation. It was nothing but a 17 minute drive to Shoko’s house, so when you arrived at exactly 1:18 pm, her door was already open. “They’re bashing me, Shoko. Fucking bashing! How could he do this to me?” Were the first words that flew out of your mouth, holding your phone close to her face so that she could see the reviews. 
“Well, it’s not like anyone would know it’s you.” She yawned, handing you a cup of water – probably because of how crazy you looked – before she ushered you to a seat on the couch. A golden brown blanket was lazily thrown on the seat, which she hurried to move. You sat down and faced her with a look of what Shoko could only describe as pure sadness. She had seen you like this many times before, all because of one person. 
“You did.” You sniffled with an eye roll, you couldn’t help but feel uncertain. Reading this book only brought back more uncomfortable feelings towards the breakup and him. You thought that you were over him and the memories that the book produced made you question everything. One question remained which is: Why?
She giggled drily. “Hey, I read all his works. Pseudonym or not. He can’t hide from me. Plus, I know you both and everything that went on. I was there too, remember?” She mumbled the last part. “Maybe this was his way of coping?”
“It’s been years
 and I heard he’s announced a sequel. Shoko, a SEQUEL! It’ll be released later this year.” You spoke in a shaking watery voice while she rubbed your back in an attempt of comfort. Your mind could only think of what the reactions would be to your character in the sequel
 insecurities that you never knew were there flooded your mind.
“There was enough material for a sequel? I thought he covered everything
” Shoko rubbed her chin and looked deep in thought. You just stared at her, she couldn’t be serious. “Sorry, ignore me.” She shook her head ignoring your stare.
“Do I even confront him over this? A-and how would that make me look, like I still check on him right? I’ll look crazy and bitter
 which apparently I am. Oh and I’m bitchy and a ‘total cunt’ as they’re putting online.” He didn’t know just how much you changed, he missed your growth. Rubbing your eyes, you ask:“Why did you tell me about this? What made you take so long
 I just don’t understand.”
“Well, at first
 I didn’t think you’d care.” Moving a strand of her nut-brown hair out of her face, she continued. “Then about a month ago, I decided it was right to tell you, just in case someone else pieced it together.”
“Gojo read it then, huh?” You mentally cringed at the thought. It was the only person you could think of who’d be so crude about it. He knew how damaging the breakup was for you but not as bad as Shoko knows. Now, you’re just grateful that she told you before he did.
“Yep, so I figured that I had to tell you before he did.” She clicked her tongue. “But let’s just calm down before you make any rash decisions on how to handle this.” 
“He wrote a fucking duality series about me, our relationship, our sex life and you want me to calm down? Are you listening to yourself? This is a serious matter. I am being called a bitch, a slut and more on Goodreads and multiple websites, reviews, etc. and he didn’t even have the audacity to give me a heads up. You had to call me.” You let out an unladylike snort.“Why couldn’t he stick to his mystery novels? Wasn’t he doing good at those?”
“Writer's block.” Shoko said in a singsong-like voice. “He hadn’t written a mystery book since you two broke up and then
 he alerted his supporters he wanted to switch things up and then
 that was that. Ladies loved it, a big hit. By the way, if you two were really fucking like that I need to se—”
“Shoko, now is not the time!” Your face felt hot all over, your mind racing. “I just can’t believe this.” You wrapped your arms around your body and squeezed, giving yourself one big squeeze. It was hard not to cry but you could feel it all in your throat. 
“I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think his intentions were to make you feel bad.” She hugged you to her chest, pressing a small kiss to the crown of your head. “I think he still loves you. I mean, isn’t this book proof? After all these years, he wrote about you.” 
“I’m sure he moved on by now.” You whispered, your eyes growing tired already and the day had barely started. “I just need to lay down. I need to rest.” Your mind seemed to finally grow calm and your breathing steady, a small hiccup now in your throat but with a gulp of water, you were better.
“Just stay here. I don’t trust you to be alone right now.” Shoko’s voice drowned out as sleep overtook you, you could only feel her warmth as she held you and honestly it was all you needed at this moment, Shoko always made you feel safe and you couldn’t thank her more than enough for that right now as you slept.
You were a light sleeper, it was always something that Nanami pointed out about you. He always said how he felt like he couldn’t leave the room while you slept even if it was to use the bathroom afraid to wake you. He knew how important sleep was to you and he’d risk having a bladder infection if you got all 8 hours that you required. Nanami was sweet and caring like that. 
You didn’t think you’d break up with him ever. He was the one for you and he always made that clear. He pampered you and even after the breakup – though you didn’t need it – he left you with a check for five thousand dollars, saying it was for his half of the lease for the next few months. 
The breakup was brutal for you. You almost quit working entirely. Shoko was the only person you’d confined into and the only friend you left to check in on you especially when you didn’t want to leave the house. She brought you groceries and helped you shower until you finally were able to get up again.
Though it was hard to believe, it was Nanami who broke up with you. You thought it was a joke, a cliche little joke. 
“Baby, I’m not joking.” His voice was quiet and husky, he spoke as if he was going to cry. “I just need some time to myself. I need to figure out if this is what I want. You don’t have to wait for me, you just keep on living your life and being happy. But
 I think it’s time we let this go.” 
You didn’t cry in front of him. You didn’t cry when he packed his things up. You certainly didn’t cry when he shut the door, leaving his key on the table because you knew he was joking. He had to be. But when you called him and his number was disconnected and you were blocked on any form of social media
 that was when you broke down and cried. 
It happened out of nowhere. You overanalyzed every aspect of your relationship for where you went wrong. You wrote down every conversation you could remember and dissected it word by word. You watched every video and picture you had of the two of you looking for a bit of regret or anything on his face. You read every text message, looking for malice. He said he needed time to figure out if he wanted this but he always made it clear that he did and even that he was looking forward to having kids together, you two had even gone ring shopping months ago. 
You didn’t sleep and when you did, it was only for 4 hours and sometimes barely that. Your heart had an ache in it and the tears wouldn’t stop. You could only think why wasn’t I enough?
When you opened your eyes Shoko was still holding you and a small smile grew on your lips. “Thank you Shoko.” You knew if you could count on anyone, it was always going to be her. She was the one who pieced you back together and made sure that life didn’t destroy you and you couldn’t help but to be grateful. 
“Of course. ‘M going to let you spend the night here, okay? Let’s get some takeout and watch your favorite movies, how’s that sound?” She knew the way to your aching heart like the back of her hand. 
“It sounds amazing!” You stretched your arms out wide, leaning off of her and sitting up. “Should we start with Uptown Girls or Legally Blonde?” 
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It took two days before you confronted him. Shoko was adamant about not giving you his address and you were tempted to get it from her phone. But luckily, you wore her down, she was probably tired of you bringing him or his book in every conversation. So now you stood there, nerves washing over you in waves.
The mahogany colored door stared at you – mocked you – and you returned the glare before you knocked on it, hard. This was just a door and you were angry at the person behind said door, not the door itself. 
It was almost like he was waiting on you because the door unlocked and opened. He even stepped aside to let you in, quiet. His straw-colored hair was parted differently and he even looked taller or broader – you couldn’t completely tell – but he looked different
 seemed different. The atmosphere around him made your stomach clench and it made you mad; why did it feel like only you suffered from the breakup? Here he was – strong and tall – and you were nothing or rather the same.
“You wrote a romance erotica novel about our relationship?” It was what you practiced saying before you got out of your car – making sure your voice didn’t tremble – this time, it didn’t. 
“Well, hello to you too. Even after three and a half years, you still like to get straight to the point.” He grinned, putting a hand on your back to guide you to a seat on his couch. “I must ask, what makes you think it’s about you?” He does a slight laugh and raises his brow.
“We have the same initials, almost the same name. Are you kidding me?” You retort, folding your arms across your chest. You tried to ignore the fuzzy feeling in your chest that occurred when you heard his voice after so long, hearing him and seeing that damned smile
 your nose scrunched up.
“Sorry, I just didn’t know you kept up with me
 with my books
” He muttered, glancing your way, a demure look in his amber eyes. “Should I be flattered?” Almost in an instant, he turned on a slight cockiness to himself, though his body language showed his nervousness – his thigh bouncing a bit and his fingers tapping on the couch handle. A light sense of relief filled your system knowing that you weren’t the only one being affected by this.
“I don’t.” You inhaled deeply. “Shoko told me about it and then, I checked it out.” Fiddling with your fingers and even picking at your nails, that was your tell all sign of nervousness and right now you were engaging in it more than ever before. 
“I wanted to tell you or rather, to ask you. I know you got the voicemails I sent last year
and then you kept dodging my calls.” He tells you, you could feel his eyes on you – or more so your fingers
 the nasty habit that he had finally got you to stop all those years ago rushing right back in an instant.
“Writing a book to trash me and our relationship
 to make you look like some sort of
 ugh, like you’re so amazing and I’m just shit. Yeah, that certainly got my attention.” If you were coming off bitchy or rude right there, you couldn’t care less especially when there were worse things that you could’ve said or even could’ve done at this moment. You really wanted to slap him. 
“Is that all you got out of it?” He asks with his head low, almost as if he was admitting defeat or as if he couldn’t believe you came up with something so trivial. 
“Was there anything else to get?” You counter, shifting your body towards him. Maybe it was best that you sat down and actually listened to the author and his interpretations of his work.
“How about that I love you regardless of any flaws
 how about I find your stubbornness and attitude sexy and how I knew this breakup would be good for you. I was holding you back. I mean, I heard you got promoted 3 times since we broke up
 I just felt like I was changing you, hindering your growth. I needed to reflect on myself and this book helped that.” He tapped his fingers against his thigh, yet another sign of his anxiousness. “Believe it or not, I still care about you. No matter what happened between us.”
“What happened? You mean when you decided to just leave? You could've told me everything you just told me and I would’ve understood better. We could’ve talked and came to a compromise. You don’t understand what you put me through after it.” You were close to tears but you straighten your posture and sniffled, it was best not to think about what happened before. “I just needed a bit of closure too, I guess that’s why I came. I just was caught off guard. You could’ve knocked on my door or something, forced me to answer
 forced me to talk.”
He met your eye for the first time since you came over. “You wouldn’t have listened,” He huffs. “Didn’t I mention how stubborn you are? Plus, I meant what I said. I needed time to myself and I think we both did.”
“I guess
But Nanami, this book was too much. A letter would’ve been fine if you needed closure, don’t you think?” You see his lips quirk up a bit before he licks them, trying not to laugh it seems.
“My publisher got a hold of some of the documents where I was just going over things, writing here and there. She loved the idea
 plus I’m in a contract for six books so I had to put something out soon, it had already been a year.” He told you, sitting his chin on top of his knuckles. “I honestly didn't mean to hurt you. I was writing for fun
 reminiscing about us and then later down the line, I realized I was writing because I wanted you to read it, I just didn’t exactly know how to get you to since you were very adamant on avoiding me, which is understandable. But regardless, I didn’t think it’d get on the bestseller list or for the reviews to get so harsh.” He admits, reaching for your hand before his hand froze in midair and he stopped himself, choosing instead to put it behind his head.
“Is there anyway you can stop the sequel from being published then
 since you got my attention after all this time?” You asked, putting your most dazzling smile on, hoping to sway him. 
“I can talk to my publisher. Everything’s in print and materials are already done
 but I’ll try to see if I can stop production.” His adam’s apple bobbles when he does a harsh swallow. “Are we
 okay? Do you forgive me?”
The question made you pause. He always made it hard for you to not forgive him; it took one look or a smile and a small explanation and it made it easy to fall in love with him all over again, no matter what he did
 it seems. But it made you ask yourself: Were you too easy? Did you really forgive him? It was thoughts like that swirling around the corners of your mind. You wanted to forgive him, he was just writing and telling a story
 but it was your story, not just his. Using this for your attention when he could’ve written about anything else, he didn’t have to. Were you just ready to forgive him because you still loved him? 
You hadn’t realized how deep in thought you were until you felt the couch dip and even then, your mind was still spirling.“You don’t have to
” His voice brings you out of your thoughts, his body so close to yours that it was getting hard to breathe. He still smelled the same; citrus and woodsy and it was easy to get yourself sucked back in. 
“So you can write another book about my stubbornness?” You give a quiet giggle, scooting a bit away from him, seeing him frown from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t want to fall back but he made it all so simple. It was easy and you were already falling back on him and you didn’t need that
 Did you?
“Baby
” Your body buzzed and hummed, turning to him with wide eyes. “I’ll do anything I can to make this right. Anything for you to forgive me
 If they can’t stop publication, what can I do to make us right?” He was doing more than a gaze, he was full on staring and from how close he was it was hard to avoid. 
“Nanami I–” You stopped yourself. You couldn’t really think of anything he could do but you could think of several unhealthy things you could do to ruin your progress on going over him. He had betrayed you and made you a laughing stock so why are you stuck thinking about forgiveness when you should be leaving.
“I never stopped loving you.” His fingers traced up and down your pants but his eyes stayed on yours. “I never thought about anyone but you
 I never slept with anyone
 it’s always been you. But, I understand what I put you through and I’ll apologize every second until you forgive me
” The blond man who you never saw shed a tear looked more than close to it. “But just please
 forgive me.”
“I’m sorry, honest.” He tries again after being met with absolute silence. “Just
 let me show you, okay?” His breath tickles your face for a second and when you look into his cocoa brown eyes, you feel everything you once felt again.
Memories of good times dulls out the odd feelings in the pit of your stomach – the confusion and pain – instead are replaced with joy. The trip to Malaysia where he rubbed sunscreen on your entire body and laid back to read a book and you watched as his eyes kept drifting to you while you played in the cerulean water; how you kept begging him to come in until he complied and how eventually in the early hours of the morning when you wanted another dip, he fucked you twice — once in the golden lush sand and another in the cool ocean water. 
His face is in your thighs and you couldn’t help but feel better, feeling his breath fanning so close to your pants covered pussy, your body felt scorching hot. He’s grumbling, “Will you let me make it up to you? Will you let me show you how sorry I am?” 
You must’ve nodded because he was already unbuttoning your pants and helping you lay back, pulling your shirt up just a bit to see your perky tits – he must’ve remembered how you never wore bras unless you felt it was necessary, which was mainly work or any important events. 
He blew a bit on your hardening nipples before he took one into his mouth – playing biting them with a smug look on his face before he began licking around your areolas and kissing around the swells of your breast. He doesn’t say anything but he looks deep in thought as he kisses down your body, his fingers scraping down your sides as he works your pants and your panties all the way down. Bringing his head up for a minute, he looks in your face. “I love you.” He says it simply, heavy emotions swirling in his brown eyes.
Removing your pants and underwear completely from your body, he spreads your thighs and looks over your body – a trimmed low pretty bush sits between your thighs and it makes him smile, he always loved seeing the curled hair on your delicate lower lips. He spreads your pussy, watching the skin stretch with a deep smile on his face. You could feel yourself 
 the wetness leaking down under your body and it made you cringe, but the way he was staring at you made the insecurities vanish. “All this for me?” He takes a tentative lick before he slurps, clutching your hips. “I know you like to run
 but I need you to stay put, got it?” It was hard for you to listen to him, your head already fuzzy and the thoughts swirling around were only about him, nothing more. 
Then your body bucks up, “Wait–!” A broken moan escapes your mouth when he presses a soft wet kiss to your clit. Nanami had always been gentle and very careful whenever he ate you out; making sure his tongue was wet enough and that he wasn’t too rough. His tongue was wide enough to make your back arch, your body leaving the couch when it finally hit your clit and he gave you no time to recover before he peeled back the hood, sitting the tip of his tongue there and rapidly flicked at the bud. 
Hearing the lewd squelching noises coming from the mixture of your cunt and his mouth made you close your eyes, squeezing them shut tightly. He spits before he licks it up and down your aching slit, nudging his tongue inside only slightly, much to your dismay. You’re gasping every second when more of his tongue slips in and out of your pussy; sliding a bit more each time and it makes your thighs shake. When he finally slips his entire tongue inside of you, curling it just enough that you can feel it everywhere, your legs attempt to close up around his head. “Please– ‘m so
 soo–oh
” His fingers join in on the fun and in small sloppy circles he rubs your clit, pressing down on the pearl while his tongue continues flicking inside of you. The split second that you open your eyes, his are already on yours and it was that moment, that made your body tense up and for you to cum. 
It happens fast, clear sticky wetness leaks out of you and Nanami still tries to get more of it on his tongue, catching anything that drips and sucking on your folds. “Always so fucking good
” He mutters, spreading you again and smearing more of your slick on his face by shaking his head between your thighs, so that he’s completely covered in you. 
When he moves his head, embarrassment comes over you, looking at his wet face
 even his forehead was wet and you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby but
 I’ll be right back, stay wet for me.”
Your heart hammers against your chest, lying there on this now wet couch. You didn’t come over here for this and yet here you are
 about to get fucked and really, it was no turning back now. You’d been on dates with men after Nanami but they never lasted past the second date and you certainly hadn’t had sex in a while, but he made you come apart like it was nothing.  
But then again, Nanami knew your body
 so of course this was a walk in the park for him. It honestly annoyed you right now, you couldn’t even make yourself cum half the time especially these last few years and now, barely an hour here and he has you right where he wanted you
 bare and practically back in love with him.
Nanami came back with a fresh face and unbuttoned pants that he was currently pulling down. You clenched around nothing, your mind thinking only of the perfect dick that was going to be coming out of those pants. You licked your lips, this would be the first dick you saw in years and it was his. 
His drooling cock slapped his stomach and you swallowed, your mouth felt unreasonably dry. The length of his cock always impressed you, standing tall at seven and a half inches, he shakes with laughter which snaps you out of your daze. “Now let me look at you.” His whispers and even though he already saw you, both years ago and right now, you can’t help but feel hot all over again. He’s staring – drawing his eyes down every inch of your body –  focusing on your breast before getting to the stare of the show yet again. He smirks, laying you back down, pressing his body against yours to kiss you. 
Your breath was caught in your throat, his tongue still tasted of you and his hands cups your jaw. He’s gentle, his tongue moving around your mouth messily before he stops, saliva breaking apart when he does so. His fingers make a ghostly featherlight touch on your clit that makes you jump, the head of his cock at your entrance. He holds out his hand, close to your mouth. “Spit.” Gathering up some, you spit in the palm of his hand and stroke it along his length, huffing at the sensation. 
He pushes in, taking his time to work himself inside of you, a strained expression on his face. Hips pulled back, he focuses more on just the tip of himself fucking you, watching your pussy stretch with just the tiniest bit of resistance. Inching himself inside, you watch his torso flex and he groans, obscene noises plop and plap around the apartment, his heavy cock pushing in and out of you, your toes curling. 
“Pussy still mines, right? Didn’t give it away, did you?” You’re struggling to talk - to fucking breathe - your eyes rolling back and your jaw slacked but you babble out a soft ‘no’ which makes him finally thrust in you harder, completely bottoming out. You feel him in your belly, feeling full and embarrassingly wide with him stretching you out, his balls sitting on the crest of your ass before he moves. 
He moves you a bit, your bodies flush to each other and he moves his hips in harsh circles, his pelvis so close to your clit. His hands on your calves, he pushes your legs so that they rest on his shoulders, your knees touching your ears makes you tighten up and he groans above you.
“Nanami I-” You call out, eyes closed with pleasure shaking through your core, wetness slapping between the both of you. 
“Nanami? No, call me what you used to call me.” His hips slowed down, a whine escaping your lips. His cock dragging inside of your walls, pulling out slowly, awaiting your response. 
“Please
don’t slow down, Ken—” before the word even left your lips, his hand slapped your cunt, leaving your legs shaking a bit and your eyes snapping open. Drops of tears run down your cheeks and you sniffle, reaching for him
 you couldn’t help but feel so small in his presence.
“Say it.” Then, you knew what he meant. A name that now feels foreign in your brain and even when it leaves your mouth, it comes out in a strange rattled whimper.
“Oh, oh
 daddy, ‘m sorry. Please, keep fucking me. It’s so goooood!” He’s grinning before the words leave your mouth.
“Still my good girl huh? Always so fucking good for daddy.” He licks up your neck and it makes you tremble, your tongue lolling out a bit and he moves to suckle on it. “Did you skip over all those sex scenes or did you rub this pussy out to them?” He asks, his fingers digging in the back of your thighs. 
You choked out, sobbing, “I did, daddy
 But I-I don’t want to remember everything.” 
“You don’t remember all the words I used to describe this cunt? This pretty pussy? That changed his life
 my life? That made him always crawl back? That made him so fucking hard? The pretty words I used to describe you? To describe how pretty she always looked when he fucked her? How his heart felt like it was going to explode when she looked at him too long because he loved her so damn much?” He’s groaning in your ear, thrusting into you, his depth reaching your g-spot, your pussy spasming and begging for his cum at every word he uttered. 
Pumping himself inside, you could see the white creaminess that was on his cock, most likely because of you, he was constantly fucking the cream inside of you, your nails digged into his arms and he moaned at the feeling. Your stomach tightens and you move to push him away, “I’m going to c–cum!” You felt him throbbing inside of you, signaling that he was close too. “Please, cum inside of me
 I can’t take it.” You couldn’t stand it any longer, it’s been years and you needed him to fill you up. He stopped for a moment, changing positions so that you’ll be sitting on his lap, grabbing your hips and forcibly bouncing you on his dick, dangerously slow. 
Wetness gushes on him as his tip hits you from a new angle, seeing the outline of him in your tummy, he’s stretching you again with each nasty thrust. Each drag of his cock making you go crazy and the aching between your legs continue, your body shaking and both of you moaning loudly and over each other. 
Finally, your orgasm rattled and shook your entire body, your pussy sucking him in, milking him for all he’s worth and it makes his body shake and he releases inside of you, trying to stay quiet as his body jerks up, unable to stop himself from fucking you through both of your orgasms.
It’s quiet for a while, just heavy breathing with you laying on his chest. “I love you too
” Your voice is scratchy and your face tear stained. He doesn’t say anything, his cock still pulsing inside of you.
“I know. I love you too, never stopped.” 
“Did you at least read the acknowledgements or did you just dive right in?”
“I never read the acknowledgements for books, thought you would’ve remembered that.” You watch him get up, walking around the living room, looking for something. You were both still naked and the entire room smelled of sex. 
“I did remember that and when you barged in my door, I already knew that you still hadn’t changed when it came to that. Here, read this part right here.” He brings you over a copy and you run your fingers around the softback cover with a small smile on your face; this silly thing had brought you both back together and right now you could give less than a fuck about those reviews. 
Feeling the spine of the book, you open it and can practically smell the scent of an unopened new book. Turning the first few pages, you go to the one page acknowledgment and read it aloud: “She might not read this book. But if she does, by chance. I hope she knows that I still love her.” You wiped your eyes and smiled. “You’re an asshole, you know?”
He lets out a hearty laugh, “I know baby.” Kissing the top of your head, he gets up and grabs his phone from the kitchen counter and you follow him. “I think I have enough material to write a third book now.” He grabs his phone and starts typing, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was deep in thought. Attempting to grab his phone he chuckles and uses his height to his advantage by standing taller.
Standing on the tips of your toes you snort, “Don’t even joke about that!” But a smile takes over your face and he can’t help but smile too. 
3K notes · View notes
strawberrymatchawhore · 7 months ago
Text
p power
rafe cameron
“take it from him and i leave him with nothing”
summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother
warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol
you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.
“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.
“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”
“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.
“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.
“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.
“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.
“i-”
“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.
AT THE PARTY
you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.
you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.
“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.
“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.
oh shit
“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.
“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.
this is what he deserves
sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.
oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.
“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.
“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.
“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.


..
“jeez rafe you really fucked him up
” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.
“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.
“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.
“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.
"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.
"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.
your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.
"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.
"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.
the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.
"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.
"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.
"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.
you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.
"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.
"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.
he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.
“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.
"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.
"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.
"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.
"oh fuck." rafe dragged out, slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you.
"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.
the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.
"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.
"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.
"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.
"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.
"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.
"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.
"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."
"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.
"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.
rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.
"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.
"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"
"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.
"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.
"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.
"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.
"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.
"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.
"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.
"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.
rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?
*attached video*
"shes busy rn bro"
5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.
why is he spam texting me?
"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.
“what the fuck is this rafe?!"
4K notes · View notes
hwaflms · 7 months ago
Text
HAPPY NOW? ★ [ j.jh ]
Tumblr media
your family has been pressuring you for months to bring your boyfriend, jaehyun, over for dinner, and you think it’s really sweet that they like him so much. the only problem is that your “boyfriend” jaehyun, hates you.
———————————————————————
[☆] PAIRING. ex!jaehyun x f!reader
[☆] GENRE. angst, smut, fluff | fake dating?, exes to ??? au
[☆] WC. 19.9k (i don’t even know)
[☆] WARNINGS. angst, reader has anxiety, mentions of anxiety attacks, fighting, reader be lying a lot, reader has a little sister, crying, reader is kind of a dumbass, explicit content (piv smut), unprotected sex (don’t do this gang!), fingering, sex in public kinda, pls lmk if i forgot anything!!
[☆] NOTES. i’m so fucking annoyed with tumblr it’s not letting me insert images properly UGH this took me over 2 hours to upload man đŸ—Łïž im pretty proud of this one ‌ idek how it got this long but it’s my longest fic yet and it’s been sitting in my drafts for ages until i finally got the inspo to write it :p i want jaehyun so bad it’s not even funny tbh but anyway PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACK/A REBLOG LITERALLY ANYTHING IS APPRECIATED <33
———————————————————————
six months.
you haven't seen this door in six months.
it's funny because, this was a door you used to push open and walk through every other day, yet now you stand on the opposite side of it, unsure as to whether you should even be thinking of knocking.
your hand is raised to the door, shaped like a fist but you make no move to actually knock. you were aware that you still had time to bail out of this, that you could turn on your heel and make your merry way back to your sad little house and go back to pretending you're happy with the choice you made six months ago.
or you could just do what you came all the way here to do.
the weather seems to be in your favour, at least. the sun shines radiantly, making the temperature warm, but not too warm, and a cool breeze travels through the air in short intervals. the summer had begun early, birds chirping in their habitual singsong way and wild bougainvillea already flowering in various shades of pink and lilac. usually when the day starts off with good weather, the rest of it follows suit, and thus your day is made better. hopefully, this is the case for you today.
pausing for a short, morale-boosting intake of air, you tighten your fist and knock, knock, knock on the mahogany door, immediately regretting your decision as you feel your stomach churn and plummet. a good ten seconds pass, and you hear no reply nor movement from the inside of the house, and part of you is relieved because that means he may not be home.
more than happy to do a 180° and skip along joyously back to the metro that would take you home, your feet begin to make for that trip but your mind decides against it. you know that you are being overly dramatic, but even with being aware of this, your heart rate does not slow down one bit. you also know that what you've come here to do is more than just selfish, its pathetic and rather embarrassing. it's also a hugely unsavoury request, and if your roles were reversed, you'd most definitely laugh in his face and shut the door.
finally somewhat making up your mind with a quiet groan, you raise your clenched fist and rap against his front door again in a set of three. you nervously shift your weight from your right to your left foot, then back to your right and then once again to your left, the anxiety and anticipation not allowing you to stand still and relax, thinking that if he doesn't answer this time, you really will just return home.
"hold on, i'm coming!", a hurried, muffled voice calls from inside the house and you don't think your heart has ever beaten this fast in your life. not even during the one time you ran a marathon to prove a point to your friend chenle, and while you did show him that you didn't only run to get away from spiders, your body took its own sweet time to recover from that.
now you hear footsteps approaching the door from the opposite side of it, and you don't think you can handle anymore of this tortuous, build up of a wait because you are quite literally one step away from calling it a day and just sprinting your way out of there, just like you did on the last few metres of the aforementioned marathon, and you know he's nearing the door because the footsteps are getting clearer and clearer, and soon he's going to open the door, take one look at you and just slam the door right in your face, but not before spewing verbal explosives at you, which would be totally deserved since he has every right to just spit on you and tell you how you're a terrible, downright horrible human being completely unworthy of forgiveness and-
"sorry for making you wait so long, i was-"
if your heart rate was at its maximum speed before, now it just stopped.
standing in front of you, in the flesh, was the man who's heart you broke six months ago.
jaehyun had just about opened his door in a way that his body was sticking halfway out of it, but he was now frozen in that position, neither in nor out, just stuck there looking like he was contemplating his next move. he adorned a loose, white shirt that clung to his defined shoulders and chest, paired with a pair of red plaid pants with a patch of some different material stitched just above where his knee was. you'd recognise those pants just about anywhere, having worn them a number of times and being the cause of that strange patch with mismatched material (you'd tried to balance a pot of steaming hot ramen on your knee in order to move something, resulting in it causing a burn in the pant).
his attire tells you that he was either just about to eat breakfast, in the process of eating breakfast, or about to finish breakfast; jaehyun was not an early riser and he liked to take his time getting ready for the day.
apart from his slightly changed hair, jaehyun looks the same as he did before, if not better. his once shorter, straight, brown hair, was now a darker kind of black and longer in a silky, mullet-y, layered sort of way, the mullet part stopping just above where his shirt met his neck and the front bits falling on to his face in thin, soft wisps.
everything about the man was captivating and entrancing, but if you had to pick a specific feature that really takes the cake, it would have to be his eyes. his eyes, deep-set and fierce, always gave the impression that he was cold or unapproachable, whereas in reality, he was the opposite. as striking as they may be, they always carried a certain warmth to them.
while they still held the same intensity to them, the warmth was missing as he looked straight at you now. after the brief moment of confusion when he first opened the door dissipated, the familiarity had sunk in, and his expression now was more or less unreadable, but you still tried to make out what he was thinking and feeling- was it shock? anger? maybe even disgust?
"okay, are you going to just stand there or are you going to say something?"
you think it was largely a combination of the last two. in all your fidgeting and gawking, you'd forgotten to actually speak to the man who's door you'd just knocked on, leaving him standing there wordless and confused, an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to open your mouth.
you try to do so, so many words wanting to tumble out your mouth but an invisible gate seems to block it, so now you're just stood still with your mouth opening and closing soundlessly, looking like an idiot.
c'mon y/n, fucking say something, anything-
"how have you been?", is what you decide to go with to break the silence in the end, an awkward smile plastered on to your face. you realise before the sentence is even fully out of your mouth that that would be a really weird thing to start off with, seeing as you and jaehyun have had absolutely zero contact for six months, and are obviously not on the most wonderful terms.
jaehyun's eyebrows furrow, a look of clear disbelief on his face as he clutches his door handle a little tighter. he looks away with a sarcastic smile, shaking his head before turning back to look you dead in the eye. oh, he's going to slam the door on you, you just know it-
"really? 'how have you been'?", he questions incredulously, licking his bottom lip while an exasperated smile plays at them. funnily enough, his response is somewhat relieving to your pitiful self, because you weren't even expecting to hear a reply to what you said, you figured he'd just walk away. you would've. "we haven't seen each for six months since we broke up and 'how have you been' is the best you've got?"
you wince apologetically and bite your lip, playing with your fingers nervously as he quite literally stares you down, irritation written all over his face.
he waits a couple more beats for you to break the tense silence and speak but you are inwardly (and outwardly) struggling to word your thoughts, so he simply scoffs and backs away to return inside.
"okay wait, i didn't tell my family that we broke up and they keep pressuring me to bring you home for the holidays, so i would really like if you'd pretend you don't hate me and come with me."
you don't even want to open your eyes to witness his reaction to your blurted little confession, so you merely stand, frozen in place with your eyes squeezed shut tightly. a couple seconds pass yet you don't hear a door slam, a good sign, so you take that as an affirmative to open your eyes.
he doesn't say anything, or do anything either really, he just leans against his doorframe with another indecipherable expression. this irks you even though you know you have no right to feel irked, but the fact that you once had the ability to know what he was thinking and now don't bothers you to the core. plus, it leaves you feeling unsure as to whether to continue. he might just start laughing at you manically or angrily tell you to get off his property like some bitter, 60-year-old man, and either of these scenarios would be completely fair of him to do.
the heavy realisation that your request sounded absolutely delusional and conceited dawns upon you, and something about his irksome expression makes you feel like you should keep talking. "you have literally every right to just tell me to fuck off, and i don't even expect an answer, i don't really know why i even came here, oh my god- this is so fucking stupid, i'm so fucking stupid and honestly i don't know why you're still standing here listening to me ramble-"
"i need to get ready then. give me ten minutes."
✧ ──────── ✧ ──────── ✧
the front door you're stood at now holds a very different ambience to the previous one. while jaehyun's was quiet and peaceful, the front door to your parents house reveals that the inside is just bustling with activity. the chorus of kate bush's 'running up that hill' plays faintly from behind the door, so you figured that your dad must have brought out his old record player from the dusty attic.
jaehyun stands beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his light grey hoodie that you feel he must be boiling in, because you're wearing a black tank top with some loose cargoes that you think you might have drenched with sweat.
the sweat would be from the burning heat, but also from the agitation you're really starting to feel. there are so many different ways this dinner could go. what if jaehyun suddenly tells them the truth? then everyone in the room would hate you, and rightly so. you don't want to have to explain to your parents why you broke up with him; it's a stupid fucking reason, if you can even call it that, and it made you completely miserable. how were you supposed explain to your little sister that you and jaehyun aren't together anymore? you suppose relationships are a totally foreign concept to her young mind, but you were sure that she knew you and jaehyun loved each other very much. and you knew she loved jaehyun very much.
he does not look at you, instead choosing to really focus on the christmas themed welcome mat that your parents put out during the winter of '09 and never bothered to change. how he even agreed to come here with you, you don't know, but to say you're grateful would be an understatement.
"you still have time to back out, you know.", you mumble softly, trying to give him one more chance to escape, but he doesn't even spare you a glance, shaking his head and squinting at the door.
"let's just get this over with."
with a small sigh, your raise your hand to press your parents doorbell, the embarrassingly loud 'ding dong' ringing out from behind the door. "oh, that must be her!", you hear the muffled voice of your father speak from the inside, making a slight smile form on your lips.
within a couple seconds, you hear the sound of the muted metal bolt as your dad struggles to open the door to let you in. a grunt of "this damn door..." makes both you and jaehyun release short giggles, and you peek over at jaehyun to see his lips curl upwards into a smile, a small one but it's still breathtakingly pretty . he clears his throat and it's gone in a flash, but the image doesn't leave your mind, and you're still seeing it when your dad finally manages to open the door. "i really need to start using the new lock", he mutters, shifting his eyes to you with a big grin, leaving against the doorframe with his arms folded. "hello, sweetheart."
you chuckle and throw your arms around him, squeezing him a little as he laughs and pats your back in return. releasing you, he turns to jaehyun with a smile, who promptly sticks his hand out politely. "hello, mr. l/n, long time no see."
your dad ignores his hand, throwing his head back with a gruff laugh. "what's with all the formalities, come here, son.", and with that he gives jaehyun a hug as well, a slightly shorter one albeit, but a hug nonetheless. the word 'son' repeats in your mind like an echo, sounding more and more distorted the longer you focus on it. you can't even begin to think of what was going through jaehyun's mind. this was not your brightest idea.
you notice your mom waiting by the door with her hands behind her back, eyes bright and shiny. "hi, mom.", you beam, and she laughs cheerily, opening her arms for you to run into, which you do. she presses numerous kisses to the crown of your head, making you groan lightheartedly and try to escape her hold, but it only tightens. "oh, how i've missed you."
"i missed you too, mom.", you say but she's already let you go and is making a bee line for jaehyun with her arms open, who falls into the hug so readily and comfortably. "i may have missed you, y/n, but i missed jaehyun ten times more.", she jokes, pinching jaehyun's cheeks affectionately.
jaehyun is turning bright red, but he has a toothy grin on his face, a real one, you can tell. his eyes travel the front room where all of you are stood with a nostalgic smile, having not seen it or your parents in over six months. you watch as they look from the various photo frames hung up on the wall alongside the staircase, to the curtains that they recently changed, finally landing on the record player thay was sitting on the table. "wow, mr. l/n, where did you get this?", jaehyun asks, and you wonder whether he's trying to make conversation or if he's genuinely curious. you think it may be the second one.
while him and your dad engage in small talk about his record player, you turn to your mom to ask of the whereabouts of your little sister, and as if on cue, you hear an excited squeal from the top of the stairs. all four heads turn to see your sister bounding down the stairs hurriedly, paying no mind to your mom's strained shout of "careful!".
"y/n!", she piped, finally reaching the bottom of the stairs and running straight to you, wrapping her arms around your legs. she barely reaches your hip so her hug is really just her face pressed into your thigh with her arms squeezing your legs together, while you pat the top of her head.
somehow managing to pry her off of your legs, you kneel and give her a proper hug in return, now happy that you made the decision to come home for a bit of your holiday. she lets go and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper and jutting her hand out to you, urging you to take it.
you smile and furrow your eyebrows with confusion but you take the paper anyway, opening it as carefully as you could so as to not tear it anywhere. smoothing it out flat on your knee, you're greeted with a drawing; two people stand holding hands under a deep blue sky, a large yellow sun shining in one corner along with some "birds" that are really just little 'v's scribbled in black. they're stood on a beach, at least you think they are because there are two shades of blue on the paper, one of them probably being the blue hue of the ocean.
you assume the two people are you and your sister, since one of them has shorter, shoulder length hair and is miniscule compared to the other person, who's hair length and height are similar to yours.
you hold the picture to your chest and pull your sister in for another heartfelt hug, kissing her temple. "is this us?", you ask her, pointing at the two people in the drawing. she gives you a proud nod in return, taking the picture from your hands and holding it in front of her face. "yup! the big girl is you and the small girl is me! we're gonna go swimming.", she informs you, flashing you the toothiest of smiles. "thank you, it's perfect.", you tell her, ruffling her hair a little as she hands you the drawing back.
she clearly doesn't appreciate that, because she whines and swats your hands away, but soon her eyes focus on something behind you and they enlarge, the second excited squeal of the day emerging from her lips. "jae!", she just about screams, completely abandoning you in favour of running off to jaehyun, who has a wide smile on his face and looks equally as happy as her. he scoops her up in his arms and lifts her in front of his face, doing a little spin as peals of laughter escape her.
he finally puts her down but she holds on to his hand, looking at the male with absolute adoration. "hi, cutie.", he boops her nose affectionately to which she giggles, turning to look at you. "you didn't tell me jaehyun was coming!"
"i wasn't sure if he could make it", you reply to her honestly, looking at jaehyun as you speak because only the two of you know what you really mean by that. he holds your eye contact for perhaps a millisecond longer than he did before, but again, it was gone in a flash. he clears his throat a little and straightens up, rocking back on his heels.
sensing a shift in the air but mistaking it for some form of awkwardness, your mother shoos the rest of your family away in the direction of the kitchen. "they probably want to freshen up together, let's let them do that."
once they're gone, it feels like you can finally release your breath, truly seeing this situation going wrong in so many ways. they don't suspect anything yet, but how much longer until they eventually connect the dots? or what if they don't even need to do that, because jaehyun only agreed so he could embarrass you by telling them the whole story? you don't acknowledge the tense silence until jaehyun speaks up. "can i use the guest bathroom? still the second door on the right, yeah?"
you don't respond immediately because you're processing the fact that he still remembers these minute details. you also realise he's only asking because he doesn't want to share your bathroom with you, and that clears your thoughts up a little. you nod in affirmation and he begins climbing up the stairs, and you wait until you hear he's reached the upstairs landing before you move.
it's so tense. the last time you were in this house with jaehyun, you had taken a short road trip to get there. you say road trip, but it was just a couple hours long, but the playlist you and jaehyun had curated said otherwise. you arrived at the house and everyone was all smiles, your parents just happy to have you home and happy to see him as well. you think that part's just as hard as thinking about the two of you together. the fact that your slightly judgemental parents adored him, your little sister looked at him with stars in her eyes– you had lucked out in every department, and you were always aware of it, the joint guilt you felt from breaking it off and lying to your parents really getting to you now.
you swore that after this was over, you would apologise to jaehyun and finally break the truth to your parents.
finishing off in the bathroom, you step out into the hall, only to bump straight into jaehyun. backing up awkwardly, you both try to get past each but keep going in the same direction, resulting in a bunch of 'sorry–'s and 'wait– just–'s being blurted out by the two of you. finally getting past you, he doesn't look back at you again, just walking down the stairs mumbling something about "they're waiting...".
wincing, you make your way down the stairs as well, arriving at the living room to see your mom standing beside your dad with an excited expression on her face. you approach with caution, noting that your dad has his hands behind his back. "so...", your mother starts, raising her shoulders a little out of anticipation. "since we haven't seen the two of you in a while...we got you some presents! nothing too grand but..."
"mom, it's not even christmas", you whine, ready to argue with them because you feel bad that whatever they got was still overpriced, but your mother shakes her head, urging your dad to reveal the presents. "just take a look first..."
in one hand he holds a small, white box, no bigger than his palm, and your mom picks it up, holding it out to you. the print on the box is small and typewriter-like, the material it's made out of just screaming fancy. you narrow your eyes at your parents but take the box in your hand anyway, pushing it open. inside, it reveals maybe the prettiest necklace you've seen; dainty and silver, the chain is simple but it's the pendant that's the real charm– it's an uncut stone of some kind, a pale, translucent white crystal that's pretty much shapeless but it's wrapped in this thin silver wire that forms little loops and hearts over the stone and it makes it so alluring.
"it's a seaglass necklace", your mom speaks, taking the necklace out of its box for you and inclining her head for you to turn around. you're now facing jaehyun, who looks curiously at the new piece of jewellery with the faintest of smiles on his face. pushing your hair to the side, your mother places the necklace around your neck and clasps it (though it takes her a while, squinting and looking at the necklace hook from every angle because she forgot to wear her reading glasses). she leads you to the mirror by the entrance of the hall so you could get a better look at the necklace hanging on top of your collarbones, reaching up to touch it. "you remember? from that lady who owned the fancy place by the beach last summer?"
you do remember. that was the first trip jaehyun had joined you and your family for, under the suggestion of your little sister. when you brought up the fact that jaehyun was going back home to see his parents a little later than he had anticipated, your sister immediately asked if he would want to come with all of you, who were heading to the beach in a day or two for a little family getaway. and much to your surprise, your parents were very warm to the idea of jaehyun accompanying the lot of you. he must have severely impressed them the first time he met them, bringing a bouquet of flowers for your mother and a hearty bottle of whiskey for your dad– it's like he had won their hearts before he had even stepped inside the house.
of course, he had met them a couple more times again after that, but your parents had never raised any issues about your then boyfriend. your dad had claimed that he wanted jaehyun to come along so he could "keep an eye on him" and "see how he treats you in front of us", but you knew all too well he just wanted someone to talk to about his interest in sound systems. the trip had gone so smoothly, so perfectly and you think that it had planted the seeds of doubt in your mind about your relationship.
the position of the window and sun allowed for the light to bleed on to half of your face, the necklace glinting under the rays as you stood in front of the mirror and surveyed it. the last couple drops of the golden hour sun slipped through the windowpane and painted your skin like it was a canvass and the necklace was the cherry on top. you were radiant, and the look in jaehyun's eyes told you that he knew it too. when your eyes meet in the mirror, it's like he tears his eyes away from you, forcing himself to look at his shoes.
snapping out of your soon-to-be miserable thoughts, you fix a smile on to your face so as to not seem ungrateful, turning to hug your mother. "i love it", and you really do, knowing that you wouldn't be wearing a single other piece of jewellery for the next couple months.
jaehyun stands in the doorway soundlessly, just taking in the scene. he had always told you that he wished his family was as close and tight-knit as yours, but due to his dad always being away on some business trip or another and his mother having her own job to attend to, it resulted in a lot of time spent by himself.
you think that might be way he slotted right in with the rest of you, from the very first meet, because his desire to belong worked very well with your family's lively, chaotic home, which welcomed him right away. this was the main reason why couldn’t bring yourself to tell your family that you had broken up him mercilessly. they wouldn’t blame you of course, but you know everyone would be immensely disappointed when they realised that he hadn’t even done anything wrong in the first place; he was so good to you, and they just wanted to see you happy.
while your mom cooed at how pretty the necklace looked on you, your dad faces jaehyun with a wide grin on his face. "you didn't think we'd forget about you, did you?"
he probably wasn't expecting anything for himself, because you weren't either, so you and jaehyun simultaneously furrow your eyebrows. "oh, mr. l/n, you didn't have to–", he starts but your father is quick to cut him off, waving his hands. "what nonsense. of course we had to get you something, it's no big deal", he tries to appear nonchalant but the smile that creeps on to his face is a telltale sign that it is, in fact, a big deal. "besides, if you're family to y/n, you're family to us."
it's as if someone just stuck a large knife into you, the pang you just felt in your stomach. you can't even begin to think about what must be going through jaehyun's head, because even he can't hide the way his eyes soften at your dad's words. watching your sister spring up from the couch, she runs behind your father and plucks whatever he was holding out of his hands, now revealed to be a medium-sized bag. "i wanna give it to jaehyun!", with that, she's running over to him with the toothiest smile plastered on her cheeks, holding the bag out to jaehyun with stretched arms.
he ruffles her hair just like you did, but she makes absolutely zero complaints as he does it– if anything she's revelling in it. this makes you want to scoff, but you smile instead without thinking about it, taking a couple steps away from the mirror and towards them. "are you gonna open it or should i take it back to the store?", your dad jokes and jaehyun chuckles quietly while you don't even bother forcing a laugh, and he takes the bag from your sister's hands, mumbling a soft 'thank you'.
from where you're standing, you can't see what's inside the bag, but you can see jaehyun's eyes widen when he looks inside and back up at everyone. "me and mrs. l/n, i can't take this."
"of course you can", your mother tuts in response, dismissing him with her hand. "if i recall correctly, you had said something about your airpods not working properly?"
realisation dawns on your face when jaehyun pulls the shiny headphones from the bag, turning them over in his hand. "i think i did mention it, yeah...", he nods, eyes scanning over the clear box he holds. you remember that only one of his airpods would function properly, the other deciding whenever it wanted to do its job. you didn't realise your parents remembered, as well. "but these are so expensive, i can't–"
"do you like them or not?", your dad asks, shrugging his shoulders. jaehyun's quick to nod, "yes, i love them but–"
"then end of story." your father's not hearing anyone out, even going so far as to cover his ears jokingly when jaehyun opens his mouth again. after your sister tugs on his pant leg and urges him to try them out, jaehyun slips them over his ears, whipping his phone to connect them to it. he thought it was too expensive to try fixing his airpods so he resorted to listening with just the one ear in, or using your headphones till you broke up.
by the look on his face, they work just fine, and he couldn't be happier. a wide smile is pressed on his face, a real one that doesn't even drop when he makes eye contact with you. you smile back at him slowly, but he doesn't look away immediately, slowly turning to look at your parents. "i don't know what to say. thank you."
you'd had a couple boyfriends before, not none as close to your family as jaehyun had been. none of your previous relationships had lasted very long and you could never pinpoint the exact reason why, you just knew at some point that you had to break it off. your mother always thought that this was a result of your first ever relationship, the first and last man that ever dumped you. it crushed you at the time, though you were able to power through, but since then, relationships were never your strong suit. change seemed promising when you met jaehyun through a mutual friend, however. he was kind, he was smart and he was genuine, three traits that you didn't typically see in guys you dated, but you didn't see any reason to dwell on your biggest fumble yet.
the rest of time until dinner continues in a steadfast manner with all of you sitting in the living room. the scene looked like something out of a corny movie montage, but the beautiful part of it was that it was reality, all the laughs, the eye-smiles, the stupid jokes and conversations, all of it. your parents had recently returned from a holiday together that they took to celebrate their wedding anniversary, which meant that you two deserved to look through all eight hundred and sixty two of the photos they took. super proud of the new projector he had ordered off amazon, your dad had connected his phone to it and was going through his gallery slideshow-style, with your mom making offhand comments about every other photo.
"that's from when we went on a date to this fancy restaurant, that's from the shoe store your dad wanted to go to...oh! that's when your dad just learnt how to take 0.5x pictures on his new phone!"
your mom speaks animatedly while each photo is being shown, pointing out various different things without any prompting. there were badly taken selfies of your parents that made both you and jaehyun laugh, pictures of the different kinds of food they ate, the said 0.5's of your mother taken from the top of her forehead– your dad was slapping his knee even though your mom wasn't too impressed.
after what seemed like years, they ran out of vacation pictures and moved on to pictures and videos taken during your little sister's talent show. this was especially endearing, because your normally high-energy sister was suddenly all shy and avoidant of eye contact in the presence of jaehyun, particularly displeased with a video of her singing on stage.
jaehyun wipes the pout right off her face however, poking her cheek with a smile. "you sound amazing, s/n", he pipes genuinely, and she's back to smiling again, even offering to sing the song for everyone towards the end. no one has the heart to turn down so innocent a request, so for the next couple minutes you are subjected to a very slightly off-key rendition of some song from the movie 'frozen'. everyone cheers when she is done, jaehyun even throwing in a little "whoo!" for good measure, and your sister performs a small curtsey before seating herself between you and jaehyun's legs.
you're situated on the same couch, but only so that things don't look weird. you invited him here to pose as your boyfriend, and he agreed, so you have to play the part too. that part wasn't as hard as you expected, the acting like a couple, no, it was the avoiding questions that was really getting to you. at some point in the conversation, your dad had congenially asked jaehyun when the next time he'd be coming home was. normally, he would congenially reply with something like "as soon as possible", but this time, he just froze. he appeared to attempt a reply, but was cut short at "uh–", the rest of the sentence never following through.
hoping to repair the awkward moment, you start to construct a fib. "jaehyun's been uh– you know, working at one of those um, nursing homes–", this is too out-of-the-box a reply even for jaehyun who turns to you, trying and failing to the hide incredulous look on his face.
"a nursing home? oh, i didn't know you were training to be a nurse!", your mother is surprised but definitely not disappointed, placing her hand on her chest with a sympathetic look on her face as she looks at jaehyun. he looks as if he's trying to speak to you using only his eyes, widening and squinting them at a rapid pace, tilting his head towards you so your parents don't see his expression. there are clear signs of confusion and you're aware he's questioning your decisions, but that's as far as you get with his eye signals and you let him know by shrugging and wincing, so he closes them while sighing inwardly and turns to face your parents, a fake smile stuck on his lips.
"yes! haha, funny story, this one...", he grits his teeth but furthers your stupid concoction of a story, snapping his fingers while trying to think. "i'm not really training to be a nurse, i just volunteer there sometimes. love being around old people, you know, makes me feel full of life–"
you cut him off before he can make this even worse for the both of you, taking in your mother's furrowed eyebrows and your dad's slightly opened mouth. "yes, well, it's hard for him to catch a break, you know, with all the...", you slap your hand over his knee and give it a little squeeze, turning to him with a grin while he smiles tightly back at you, eyes focusing on the hand on his thigh without changing his expression. "...hard work he does."
jaehyun's eyes don't leave your hand, seeing as this is the first act of skinship in six months, albeit casual. your hand feels so hot that you think you might be burning a hole through the material of jaehyun's jeans, finally ripping your hand off of him.
"of course...", your father trails off in confusion, and no one can seem to make head or tails of the situation. in a moment, your mother pauses before clapping her hands, seemingly already forgotten about the strange situation as she chimes "dinner in five!~". your sister scampers off with claims of helping your mother out in the kitchen (and probably to try and secure a spot close to you and jaehyun), and jaehyun stands up and heads to the cupboard containing all your placemats without out even being asked. you offer to help but he shakes his head, and you opt to go sit back down on one of the arm chairs facing the kitchen area, just observing.
this was one of jaehyun's qualities that made you fall in love with him, but also pissed you off to no end. first of all, didn't he ever get tired of just being so good all the time? second of all, why couldn't his own parents see what everyone else saw in him? and thirdly, why did you choose to ruin your life six months ago? as for the last one, you knew why, but the extent of your stupidity was real apparent to you now.
you look away when he meets your eyes and catches you, your heart beating fast when you see out of the corner of your eye that his gaze lingers for a moment or two. underneath all that hatred, was there still a small part of him that cared about you? after you broke up with him, over call that too, he attempted to call you back two or three times, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick up. out of fear or maybe even shame, you never answered his calls and since then, you'd had no contact.
it was impossible. with a break-up like that and six month's worth of time to sit and think about it, you imagine that one could hold a surprising amount of hatred for someone–especially after a relationship as real as yours. if you switched the roles, you think you wouldn't feel much different.
at your mom's signal, you heave yourself off the couch and to the dining table, seating yourself next to jaehyun (everyone expected you to sit with him, they left the chair empty on purpose). your sister has already claimed the spot opposite jaehyun and was patiently awaiting the vegetables that she knew your mother was going to pile on her plate, a little pout forming on her lips at the sight of broccoli. "you can't make that face every time, like i'm feeding you dog food", your mother scolds her with a smile, giving her a generous helping of veggies. the pout deepens and she folds her arms with a cross look on her face. "you guys don't have to eat the broccoli. why do i?"
she's got a point, you think, but before you can tell her to just eat them, jaehyun speaks. "that's exactly what my little cousin sungchan said...", jaehyun tells her, looking around the table with a dramatic sigh. "and we all know what happened to him..."
little cousin sungchan? as far as you know, there is no little cousin sungchan, and you know a lot about jaehyun's family, so you put your fork down in favour of listening to his story at the same time your sister curiously asks, "what happened?".
"well, like you, sungchan didn't like eating his veggies", starting off the story with a shrug under your mother's listening ears, he talks in a low voice. "he'd always argue with my aunt till one day, he refused to eat them.
your sister is knocking food around her plate while she listened to jaehyun, and she's not impressed with the story so far. "see! why can't i do that?", she asks indignantly, and your mother shoots jaehyun a look to which he winced and continues. "nothing happened for a while, so sungchan thought he had proved his point. but he hadn't heard of the veggie monster."
the story is heading in such a stupid direction that you almost laugh out loud, but you catch yourself when you notice your sister's expression, guarded and wary. "...the veggie monster? ...that's not real...", she speaks like she's not fully sure of her words herself, pausing her attack on her food.
"sungchan thought that too", jaehyun agrees, lowering his voice like one would when telling a scary story, looking around him like it could be listening before continuing, for the story's sake. "but he didn't know that without veggies, a child's body is weak. their bones don't grow strong, they stay small and their minds aren't sharp at all. that's how the veggie monster chooses his targets."
you hold back a snort at your sister's wide-eyed expression and how serious jaehyun looks, he's even got your dad attempting to look nonchalant as he followed the story. "the less veggies a kid eats, the weaker they get, and that's easy pickings for the veggie monster. he comes late at night, and there's no point in hiding because he knows. he can smell when a kid doesn't have enough vitamins and it makes him hungry."
with your sister, your parents and even you hanging on to every word, jaehyun lowers his voice to almost a whisper, and all of you lean in closer to listen. "legend has it that he looks so scary that you lose the ability to move or speak, so he just takes you. sungchan was never seen again. the police said he was missing but i knew what happened to him."
you have to admit, jaehyun can tell a story. the atmosphere felt more eerie as he concluded the story cryptically, but your sister looks positively gutted. "did he take him?", she questions, face white and voice small. he nods slowly, like he didn't want to be talking about this, and all you can think about is how this man deserved an award after the show he put on. "i had my suspicions. no one believed me, but i'm ninety-nine percent sure that at dinner, i saw a pair of dark, red eyes staring straight into the kitchen from the window."
as if nature was a paid fucking actor, a slight crash sounds from outside the window on cue, like if a cat knocked over a plastic bin, but you're pretty sure your sister shit her pants. you've never seen her shovel vegetables into her mouth at that kind of record speed before, even your parents are looking at her astounded. with her food in her mouth, she pleads with glazed eyes, "please– i'm sorry, i'll have my veggies, don't let him take me!"
it takes all of you a little while to convince your sister that she'd be completely fine if she ate all the veggies given to her and that the veggie monster wouldn't even think of her, but it's safe to say that she'd never leave a bit of stray carrot on her plate ever again. your mom comically mouths 'thank you' to jaehyun which makes you laugh, and you turn to smile at him, and he gives you a nod in return. small steps, you think, because a nod is a whole lot better than a glare.
the rest of the dinner continues as if nothing changed. sure, you and jaehyun knew things were different, but it didn't fully feel like it at the moment. your mom had prepared a lot of nice food for the occasion, and your dad even helped, particularly proud of the way his stir fry turned out. jaehyun made sure to compliment both your parents on their cooking, and they all but melted– he still knew exactly how to talk to them. conversation was easy; you talked about work, you talked about how university was going, you talked about the school play your sister was going to take part in, about jaehyun's parents, nothing was forced.
you'd fall into comfortable silences at times in favour of sitting back and observing, listening, just being a part of the moment. for someone who was so reluctant to be here, jaehyun seems comfortable, the familiarity of the situation helping ease the tension between the two of you. expecting some bumps along the way, you were rather pleased with how things were turning out, but you were also anticipating the end of the lovely evening– where you and jaehyun would eventually go your separate ways. you don't want to think about it just yet, not when everything was going so smoothly, and your opportunity to snap out of your thoughts is presented to you, just not in the way you would have liked.
your mother's question seems to have thrown jaehyun for a loop as well, because his eyebrows are furrowed and he looks blatantly confused. at some point during a lull in the conversation, your mother had politely asked jaehyun how his christmas in japan had gone; the only problem with this question was that he never had a christmas in japan, not to his knowledge anyway. this, was yet another lie you had told your parents, when they had asked why jaehyun hadn't accompanied you home to celebrate christmas, like he had originally planned to. unbeknownst to them, you had already broken up with him prior to the christmas holidays, so jaehyun wasn't exactly going to come along anyway. so, you told them that he had to spend christmas with an aunt in japan, for familial reasons.
you didn't exactly have time to prep jaehyun and give him a run down of every single lie he had to play along with, so he turns to you with a look of uncertainty and desperation in his eyes. "my, uh- christmas? in japan?", he puts emphasis on the two keywords, not blinking when he speaks directly to you in hopes that you would take the hint and help him out.
"yeah, your christmas. in japan. with your aunt", you reply to him with the same tone and expression as he does, trying your best to sound subtle so your parents don't catch on.
"yes, with your aunt! we were so sad to hear that you couldn't make it for christmas", your mother is unknowingly helping jaehyun catch up with the fake story, and he releases a short "ahh" during his moment of 'recollection'. "right, my real aunt who definitely lives in japan."
he grits his teeth when he talks, making you grimace and the fact that your parents look completely puzzled doesn't help. you need to save your dignity anyway, so you try to cut jaehyun off before he can make things worse. "haha, jaehyun of course she's your real aunt, silly", you awkwardly chuckle, feigning nonchalance when you bump his shoulder with your fist, wishing you could telepathically communicate with him right now, but you'd probably only be saying "please, please, please" on repeat.
he sighs but speaks up again, much to your relief. "it was slightly boring, my aunt doesn't do much", he laughs softly, fully back in character. "but you know, it's still nice to spend time with your family."
if your parents are suspicious, they don't say anything, seemingly satisfied with jaehyun's answer. dinner continues with few hitches until jaehyun insists that he washes the dishes. "it's the least i can do, after you both made such delicious food."
your mother at least tries to argue with him for a bit, but your dad is quite happy to not have to wash dishes, patting jaehyun on the back before standing up. what surprises you however, is jaehyun turning to you with the sweetest, most fake smile you've seen in a minute plastered on his face. "you mind helping, y/n?"
smiling tightly, you nod and begin clearing the table. this is done in silence, neither of you even looking at each other as you pick up dishes and carry them to the kitchen. your sister has run off to the living room to watch some t.v with your dad, and it feels like you're finally allowed to breathe when your mother exits the room as you’re picking up the last dirty dish. walking into the kitchen, jaehyun's back is facing you while he washes dishes, the environment and the little tune he's humming making everything seem so domestic in your eyes. this is how dinner used to always go when he came over, with you and him washing the dishes together in the end, taking breaks to splash each other with the soapy water or making out secretly by the counter.
but the air is foreign now, none of the former warmth or softness remaining. he turns to you with a frown when you place the final dish on the side of the sink, and he really doesn't look too happy. "visiting an aunt in japan? really?", he scoffs, looking incredulous while you look sheepish, avoiding his eye contact entirely.
you were expecting something like this but you hated being put on the spot. "i don't know, okay, what else was i supposed to say?", the exasperation in your voice is evident but it only fuels jaehyun, and rightfully so.
"i got an idea, how about 'oh, he can't come because i dumped his ass over call for no reason, sorry'?", he digs snidely, voice laden with scorn. there it is. "or is that too close to the truth for you?"
he doesn’t even let you open your mouth, chucking the cloth he was using to dry the dishes on the counter somewhere, folding his arms while he looks at you in a hostile way. “you wanna know how i really spent my christmas, y/n?”, he sneers sardonically, a sarcastic smile etched on to his lips. “alone in my house. miserable. i wish i had an aunt in fucking japan that i could’ve spent it with.”
you hate to admit it, but his words sting and you are well aware that you deserve it. just asking him to join you for this dinner was a huge reach, a request you really didn't expect him to accept. you don't fully understand why he did, though. he clearly despised you, so many be it was out of love for your family? you know jaehyun cared for them, but doing all this was uncharacteristic even for him. when you don't say anything but wear an agonised expression on your face, jaehyun further questions you.
"do you not have anything to say for yourself?", he tries again, his voice a little softer and more hopeful than before but you look like you're fighting some internal battle that doesn't involve him. he exhales deeply, clearly disappointed in your lack of an explanation and just walks past you and out of the kitchen.
you remain in the kitchen for a couple beats more, trying your level best to collect yourself. you can feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes and your breathing is quicker, but this is the absolute worst time to have a little panic attack in the kitchen. how you wished the two of you could just forget about everything for a minute so you could wrap your arms around his figure and fall into his embrace, feeling like that would solve all your problems. it's selfish and wrong, but you know that you're not getting over jaehyun anytime soon.
you'd come to that conclusion a couple months back. the first month after you broke things off with him was possibly the worst time of your life, struggling to eat, sleep or even get out of bed. your friends urged you to reach out to him like they knew you wanted to, but you remained stubborn, convinced at the time that you had made the right decision that would hurt the least for the both of you. you were wrong, you could see that now, but you knew it was much too late. you'd already gone through all the stages of grief, but seeing jaehyun again in this environment had really gone and thrown a spanner in the works for you, all because of your terrible decision-making skills.
any hopes you had of the two of you at least being on semi-friendly terms had just flown out the window as well, and you suddenly think that this might've been the reason why jaehyun even agreed to come. an explanation. a well-deserved one at that. you don't know why you find it so hard to give him one, but you suspect it's because you're not ready to face all that yourself.
upon hearing your mother faintly call out your name, you realise how long you've been standing in the kitchen, taking a couple more deep breaths before you join the rest of them. it's clear that everyone's winding down, your sister curled up on your dad's lap, trying to blink away her sleepiness, while everyone else mutedly watched the television. "didn't mean to keep you all up past your bedtime", you try to joke lightheartedly because your parents look like they're about to hit the hay themselves, but it's really so that no one suspects you were having a little breakdown in the kitchen; especially jaehyun.
"you're not wrong", your dad agrees gruffly, stretching a little before tapping on your sister's cheek to wake her, much to her displeasure. "it's technically your mama's turn to put you to bed, isn't it?", he attempts, but is quickly shot down by your mother, pinching his arm after claiming it was certainly not her turn. after their grand performance, both of them comically turn to look at you with a suspiciously bright look in their eyes. you don't even have time to argue, because the second the hint of a sigh leaves your mouth, they're saying "thank you" and "how nice of you to offer", urging your sister to wake up to let her know that you'll be tucking her in tonight.
she perks up a little at this, nodding with a little glint in her eyes. hopping off your dad's lap, she sleepily totters over to you. "can jae come too?", her voice is hopeful and small, and she yawns in the middle of her sentence but she just has this certain charm that makes everyone unable to say 'no' to her. this includes jaehyun, because one look from her with her arms raised and he's picking her up, pretending to complain about it. you can't help but smile at the whole interaction.
"oh quick! before i forget...", your mom gasps in remembrance, picking her phone up from the coffee table with a tired smile. "don't know when i'll get to see the two of you again so, pictures!"
this may be the only part you were slightly prepared for. your mother had a special affinity for taking photos; not that she was any good at it, she just enjoyed capturing these little moments and treating her gallery like a scrapbook. she had more or less documented the entirety of you and jaehyun's relationship, from the first few months where all the photos were cheesy smiles and awkward poses, to when you had grown more comfortable around each other. in fact, a photo she had taken of jaehyun was your wallpaper for quite some time (it took a lot of effort and explaining to help your mom airdrop you the picture)– it was a shot of jaehyun and your sister grinning from ear to ear, both adorning aprons that were covered in flour after a failed attempt at baking cookies.
the point being, you're pretty sure jaehyun was also expecting the pictures, so it didn't really surprise you when he plastered a smile on his face and came to stand beside you. his hand finds the small of your back soon enough and it makes your body stiffen while simultaneously sending a jolt through it, and jaehyun feels it. mistaking the action for uneasiness, he immediately lifts his warm hand off you so that it's now hovering awkwardly over your body, though no one can see that from the front. while you are disappointed, you lean into him anyway, clasping your hands together behind your back as you both give the camera wide smiles. you're so close you can smell his cologne and it's making you dizzy, not because the scent is overpowering but because it's just so familiar and you can't get enough of it.
the moment is gone in a flash because your mother takes three to four photos while cooing at the two of you before she decides to call it a night, and then jaehyun is ripping himself from you. you don't think anyone else recognises it, the way he seems to want to be as far from you as possible because he's so good at masking these things, but you can feel it. you can feel this heat radiating off of his body whenever he's near you and it's not the warm, fuzzy kind of heat. the spot on your back where his hand rested still burns a little.
your parents are exhausted and look more than happy to be able to jump straight into bed, but not before thanking you and jaehyun. you hug and kiss them goodnight, promising that your next visit will be sooner than this one before they exchange pleasantries with jaehyun, making him promise the same. you know this has to be hard on him, making a mental note to apologise profusely before you part ways. with a reminder that the door now locks from the inside, they bid you goodnight and goodbye, trudging off to their room while your sister scampers up the stairs to hers, suddenly full of life.
you understand why your parents were more than happy to hand over bedtime duties to you and your "boyfriend", because putting your little sister to bed turned out to be a piece of work. she started off by blatantly refusing to brush her teeth, but jaehyun had that one sorted when he reminded her that the veggie monster had a lot of friends, so that was done. she changed into her pyjamas all on her own which was a relief, but you were at a loss over how to actually get her into bed.
you both humoured her for a bit, understanding that she was just happy to have her big sister and her big sister's nice boyfriend home again, so a little excitement was expected. jaehyun played along with her, which was a sight to see, following along with the characters she assigned him in her imaginary games. but when bouncing on her bed turned into running around the room like a crazed bunny, it was a little harder to convince her that she needed to sleep now. "look at me, i'm wide awake", she insists, widening her eyes with her fingers to show you both just how awake she was. jaehyun tried a couple times to catch her, but you're both taken by surprise at her remarkable speed and agility. in the end, you had to resort to just sitting down and hoping that she'll tire herself out, which eventually does happen.
she climbs into bed of her own accord, rubbing at her eyes while you pull the duvet over her body, up to her shoulders. "when are you coming next?", she mumbles curiously while you sit on the edge of her bed, jaehyun standing close by. "soon", you reply honestly, knowing that you'll always have a safe place to come to whenever you need. "maybe i'll even stay for a whole weekend next time."
she likes the sound of this, smiling tiredly with her hands peeking over the edge of her cover, holding it closer to her. "will you come too?", this question is directed towards jaehyun, who looks defeated when he opens his mouth to answer. it's not fair, expecting him to lie to your family like this, but you know you've gotta come clean soon. you'd made up your mind at this point and come up with a plan; you'd explain yourself to jaehyun and apologise after which you'll go your separate ways, then you'll tell your family the truth after tonight, or at least make up a more recent break up, and that's that.
when jaehyun looks to you for help, you play with your hands a little, not fully knowing what to say. "if the old ladies at the nursing home let him go, maybe...", is what you decide is the safest option to go with, and your sister seems satisfied enough, giggling drowsily. you know she's close to falling asleep, and you're about to inwardly celebrate a job well done when she pops her next, unexpected question. "will you both be together forever?"
oh. there's a hint of teasing behind her voice, but everything else about the question is innocent and genuine, blinking her eyes open so she can look at the both of you when you answer. though you're not touching him, you can feel jaehyun stiffen next to you, his voice sounding more than a little awkward when he lets out an involuntary "uhh".
"what do you mean, cutie?"
you don't know why he asks that, because it's a pretty straightforward question; will the two of you be together forever? you want to laugh at the irony because you know that if she had asked the same question last time jaehyun came home, you both would have exchanged knowing smiles, giggling shyly while you tried to answer. the answer would've been 'yes', and you know deep down that it still should be.
she clicks her tongue like it's the most obvious and easy question in the world, shrugging her shoulders when she speaks. "you know, that's what people do when they're in love,", she answers with no hesitation, and you want to roll your eyes because who kidnapped your little sister and replaced her with dhar mann? "just like mommy and daddy!"
"daddy and mommy are married, sweetie, it's a little different–"
"i know that", she cuts off your little improvised answer in a deadpan voice that almost makes you feel stupid, but all her questions have your heart thudding against your rib cage, and you're praying to god that jaehyun can't hear it too. "but still, they love each other, and that's why they're together forever. don't you love each other?"
you're pretty sure the world stopped spinning and your heart stopped beating simultaneously, most definitely not expecting these kinds of questions from your sister. how do you even prepare an answer for this kind of situation? you know for a fact that your cheeks are coated in a dark sheen of red, and out of the corner of your eye (because you refuse to look at him), you’re pretty sure you can see the distinct pink colour paint the tips of jaehyun's ears, like they always do when he's shy or embarrassed. you can't not give her an answer, because that looks weird and she's clearly waiting for one, but answering meant that you either tell her the truth, that no, you will not be together forever because your dumbass went and ruined everything for the both of you six months ago, or you can lie and say that she's right, which would be admitting a lot of things that you didn't want to admit–
"nothing's for sure, but you're right, if two people really do love each other...", jaehyun's deep voice brings all your spiralling thoughts to a halt, and you look at him for the first time in a bit, only to find that he's already looking at you, gaze raw and piercing. you hold your breath when he speaks, because you don't trust yourself at the moment. "...they'll end up together forever."
you hear your sister make some kind of a reply, but the heartbeat in your ears is so loud that you don't quite catch it, the eye contact you're holding with jaehyun so intense that it feels wrong to look away. what could he have possibly meant by that? or was it just some half-assed answer to get your sister to go to sleep? you realise that staring at him while trying to use your sixth sense to nonverbally convey these questions to him isn't going to work, but you can feel the lump forming in your throat, needing to get out of this situation quickly.
it takes everything in you to break the eye contact in favour of pressing a quick peck to your sister's temple, and she looks about ten seconds away from just crashing. "night y/n, night jae...", and with that she's out like a light, and you two wait wordlessly until her breathing evens out before silently exiting the room.
once her bedroom door is shut, you make a beeline for the front door, way too scared and vulnerable right now to look at jaehyun. he doesn't say anything, so neither do you, making sure the door is actually locked before taking your phone out of your pocket. the time on your phone screen reads '11:43', and you know it's too late to try and catch the metro or a bus, but you're too stubborn and embarrassed to ask jaehyun to drop you.
the air is cold outside, much colder than it was inside your warm house. at the current moment, there is no breeze either, the trees are still and there are only a few lights on around the street, and it just makes everything seem so still and loud. you look out at the road, eyes zeroing in on this one lamp post where you shared one of your first few kisses with the man standing beside you. it's crazy how time can change things, you think, because never would you have believed in the moment that jaehyun called you "the most beautiful girl in the world" before leaning in to sweetly connect your lips that he could ever be something so close to a stranger within months.
ultimately opting to look at him, you're once again unable to read the expression on his face as you try your best to speak your mind to him. "um, i'm gonna book a cab, so you're officially free to go. thanks again for tonight, you really didn't have to come with me, so i owe you one. or i don't have to owe you one, because we're not going to see each other again- anything's good with me, just uh...thanks."
he waits patiently for you to finish, and aside from the slightest hint of amusement in his eyes, you're at a loss over what he's really thinking, but his face is so stupidly handsome that you're feeling angry and a little awkward, choosing to look around, and at the floor, playing with your fingers as you spoke.
"you're so dramatic y/n, i can drop you home, it's no big deal", he's already walking towards the road and biting his lip, and you can't tell whether it's out of habit or if he's trying to hide a smile, yet something tells you that it might be the latter.
"so you just let me say all that even though you were gonna offer to drop me? dude..."
the initial ten minutes of the drive are uncommunicative, both of you choosing to look at the dark road instead of acknowledging the awkward silence that was swallowing the car up whole. you don’t talk about your argument in the kitchen, you don’t make small talk about dinner, you don’t talk. you'd normally play some music in the background and you know that your phone is definitely still connected to his car's bluetooth, but somehow it just doesn't feel right– punishing yourself by sitting in this impenetrable silence should do you better.
the roads are more or less empty, save for the lone car or bike that speeds past you. jaehyun knows the way to your house from your parent's because of the amount of times you've driven back and forth, so you don't feel the need to tell him to turn right or to keep going down a certain road, making for even more silence.
part of you is still a little thankful that it isn't the most short drive, even though you aren't even speaking to each other. all it takes is picturing your empty house, devoid of the homely domestic feeling it used to carry when jaehyun was a frequent visitor. what would you even do when you got home? wallow in self-pity over your life choices? play 'sweet' by cigarettes after sex because it reminds you of him, then put on his hoodie that doesn't even smell like him anymore, just so you can curl up in bed and have a good cry while you reminisce? you're starting to think that maybe attempting to talk to him isn't the worst idea, at least it'll give you something to cry about later.
you're going crazy wracking your brain, trying to think of something to say that wouldn't make the atmosphere even more uneasy, but all you got was "hey, thanks again for coming" and "hey, sorry for breaking up with you, what's good though?". you can't even help the wince creeping on your face, finally choosing to go with the former before you have a heart attack and die in jaehyun's front seat.
"thanks again for agreeing to come", you start, absolutely hating the break in your voice from not talking for some time. "you really didn't have to do that. and for dropping me."
he offers you a quick nod in your general direction and fixes his eyes on the road ahead like he was zipping through a crowded highway, though you're sure there isn't a car in sight. "like i said, it's cool", is all you get in return, and you have to remind yourself that he has every right to be short with you.
but still, you try again. "and you don't have to worry about my parents", chewing on your bottom lip, you actually look at him this time, hoping it'll prompt him to do the same, but it doesn't. "i'm gonna tell them the truth."
he releases a short breath from his nose like he finds your statement funny, but continues to not really say anything, just nodding to indicate that he heard you. you subconsciously clench and unclench your jaw at that, because god, he's so fucking annoying, but you swear you don't mean to release the slightly irritated sigh that you do. if you hadn't seen his knuckles turning white from how hard he's gripping the steering wheel, you might not have known that your little sigh pissed him off, because you can't tell it from his face, save from the barely-there eyebrow twitch.
you don't know what it is about car rides with only one other person that make you feel so vulnerable, but you think paired with this kind of silence, you could potentially confess to murder in this setting. it's infuriating, how unresponsive he is, and part of you thinks you're jealous of the control he's exerting, because you're dead sure that if you were in his position, you'd have a fair amount to say. it must be satisfying for him in a way, watching you squirm like this out of guilt and discomfort, but you know in your heart that jaehyun simply isn't like that.
"look, jaehyun", your mouth is working faster than your brain, the silence proving to be too much for you to handle. "i know i fucked things up a bit. with how i ended it and everything..."
perhaps you should've taken a little more time to properly articulate your thoughts, because even jaehyun can't control the astounded scoff that slips out of his mouth. you yourself can't believe that you chose to deliver your words like that and it makes you sound so self-righteous, but they're out, and now you're bracing yourself to finally hear what jaehyun really has to say.
"fucked things up a bit? are you serious?", you can hear it in his voice that he's holding back, but he chooses to laugh in disbelief instead, which you think is actually worse than him straight up screaming at you. "y/n, you didn't even bother telling me in person. you dumped me over the fucking phone, saying it wasn't working."
you now kind of wish that you had just kept quiet and sat in his awkward car, and exchanged awkward niceties when you reach home, never to see him again. but this is your final chance at some form of redemption, and now that jaehyun was actually speaking his mind instead of giving you tight nods, you tried to explain yourself.
"jaehyun, i know, i just–"
"i called you a bunch of times. i tried to come see you and everything, but you went and changed your lock and all your friends were saying you didn't want to see me?"
there goes trying to explain yourself. so you sat and listened instead, and it was the least you could do. jaehyun's voice became more and more strained as he talked, the emotions he was feeling now a lot more evident. he was angry, but more importantly, he was confused, and sad.
"i just- i didn't know what went wrong, you know? we were completely fine as far as i knew", he continues on in a laboured way and he's not looking for you speak right now, so you don't. "fuck i- i thought we were in love."
the little laugh he lets out in between his words more or less breaks your heart, the whole scenario sounding all too familiar. those exact words were the last thing you'd heard from jaehyun before you fully and cruelly broke things off, letting him know the decision was final before cutting the call. you remember that day so clearly. you had meant to go see him and explain all this in person, that’s the whole reason you were in the car, but for some reason, you just couldn’t do it. you remember how much your hands were shaking as you waited for him to pick up the call, sitting in the car by yourself in the middle of your driveway. how long you sat and cried after you ended the call, tears falling until there weren't any left. how it began raining the very second you stepped out of your car to go back inside.
the weather was a funny thing, choosing to mirror your mood only when it saw fit. it was warm and sunny on the day you broke up with him, gentle breeze and wispy clouds all around. it was warm and sunny this morning, the weather ever so pleasant as you plucked up the courage to walk to his door. it was still unusually warm and sunny for the couple months following your break up, feeling sour as ever that the weather was so lovely and all you could do was sit in your room and feel sorry.
you took note of all these occasions because it always used to piss you off. though you shiver now in the car, you think it's kind of satisfying in a way, because the only two times your mood and the weather lined up was right after the break up, and the second you stepped outside your house with jaehyun; it feels like a premonition, or a revelation of sorts. the grey of the stormy sky matched the absolute devastation you felt after breaking up with him, rain pouring from the heavy clouds like they were crying for you. now, the cold, still air feels like baited breath, awaiting your next move.
"and nothing, i hear nothing from you for six fucking months until you're suddenly on my doorstep, asking me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a night. that's fucking insane!", he sounds a little wild now, very exasperated, but you figure it's probably better to just let him get it all out of his system, and you'd do good to listen to him as well. everything he's saying makes complete sense, all the emotions he dealt with akin to what you would've gone through had it been you in his place. "and you know what's more insane? i agreed. after all that, i agreed."
that’s the part you don’t understand. your heart is racing listening to him and you have so many thoughts swimming around in your head, it's difficult to filter them. you feel similar to how you felt back in the kitchen, although this time you can't take a minute by yourself to get over it. you absolutely refuse to cry in this moment, not wanting to seem like you're trying to victimise yourself when you are aware you're the problem. but you can feel your heart breaking all over again.
"why did you agree?", you physically can't raise your voice to louder than a whisper, the tension too thick to try and overpower it.
"why did you dump me?", he counters like a child, and while you were expecting the question, it still makes you freeze up a little. he huffs in annoyance when you don't say anything, inclining his head while he waits expectantly for you to answer. "you wanted to talk? let's talk, y/n. you don't get to just waltz back into my life like it's nothing. it's not fair,"  it's so cold, the way he says your name, but you try your best not to let it further shake you, mustering up the courage to finally speak. "it's so stupid, jaehyun."
he looks like he's about two seconds away from just combusting, the only sound piercing the cold air being the gentle hum of the engine. "don't you think i deserve to know?", he urges, voice edged with hurt and frustration. "i spent the whole day with you and your family, pretending like everything was happy and normal when it's not."
"i know, jaehyun-"
"then, tell me."
you shift uncomfortably in your seat, teeth toying with your bottom lip as you avoid looking at him. "i don't know," you murmur, your voice barely audible to yourself over the pounding of your heart.
"you don't know?", he repeats incredulously, his tone tinged with disbelief. "after everything, you don't know? don't lie to me, y/n."
your throat tightens as guilt washes over you, but you try to stand your ground. "i just... i couldn't do it anymore," you confess, voice trembling with emotion.
"couldn't do what?", he presses, his frustration mounting with each passing moment. you know he doesn't believe you, dead set on getting the answers he deserves. he's driving slowly now, allowing him to turn his head in your direction more often.
"this!", you exclaim but immediately recoil when you see the look of hurt flash in his eyes. "no! not this, i mean- me! it's my fault, you did nothing wrong." you're saying all the wrong things, but you're too overcome with emotion to attempt to form a coherent sentence. still, you know it's time that the truth came out, so you continue to explain with a heavy heart.
"i didn't mean to hurt you," you choke out, and your voice is so thick you have to swallow before you carry on. he looks indignant and rightfully so, but you go on before he can interrupt you again. "but i was so scared, jaehyun."
his expression softens at your state, replaced with a mixture of sadness and resignation. "scared of what?", he asks quietly, his words hanging heavy in the air. you feel the need to pause for a moment, hands balled into tight fists as you try to regulate your breathing. you really didn't take into account how debilitating the night would be on yourself. sure, you knew it was going to be tough seeing jaehyun again, especially if he agreed to pretend to be together, but you weren't really expecting to hash it out like this, the weight of your decision pressing down on your like a leaden blanket.
the car moves so slow it may as well be still but  when you turn to him, you can feel the burn of jaehyun's gaze, his eyes searching for some semblance of understanding. "i loved you", he whispers, voice cracking with the intensity of his words. "i would've done anything for you."
you're still, you're so so still. tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you struggle to find the right words to say, but he's completely thrown you off. the car has slowed to a stop, engine idling before he eventually turns it off in favour of turning to you.
"that's exactly why," you reply weakly, your voice a fraction of the volume it normally is. he surveys you intently, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt, eyes reflecting the very same sadness you feel.
"what do you mean?"
"i was scared of hurting you," your confession does nothing to ease his confusion, but you can see he looks more shocked than anything now. "scared of hurting me?," he echoes, his uncertainty and disbelief palpable. "this is so ironic, it's almost funny..."
you think hearing any more of what he has to say is actually going to kill you internally, so you know you have to rush to explain before he starts giving you a piece of his mind again. "i know, it's so fucking stupid, jaehyun", your voice is trembling from the sheer guilt you feel, bottom lip quivering so much you have to bite it to get it to stop. "everything was going so perfectly, you were so perfect, and it scared me so much."
he falls silent, much to your relief, his expression even softening minutely as he processes your words and this gives you the encouragement to continue. "remember that night on the beach? on the trip last year?", you speak tentatively, wanting him to understand your thought process and the tangled mess of emotions swirling inside you at the time, though it's not much of a defense. the memory floods into your mind so vividly, and you can see it all; the salt in the air, the gentle breeze, the feeling of the sand, your intertwined hands swinging. it was so serene and you'd give anything to be there in that moment again, though it's nothing but a distant dream now.
he nods slowly without speaking, and you release a wet sort of laugh, feeling like you'd choke on the lump in your throat. "we talked about everything that night, our families, our childhoods, our futures...and then you brought up what would happen after we graduated college."
you know he remembers because his eyes light up with recognition and he looks like he's replaying that exact moment in his head, and you hope he remembers it with the same soft, gushy feeling you do. "you said you wanted to move in together, and don't get me wrong, i was thrilled, but it made me realise how...serious everything was, you know?", your voice catches in your throat and you're talking to yourself as much as you're talking to him and he seems to understand that, because he makes no attempt to stop you.
it's silent again for a bit as you two reminisce, but you break it again. "i just knew i was going to fuck up, jaehyun. maybe not right away, but eventually, and the thought terrified me," you sniffle a little, not being able to bring yourself to look up from your hands to meet his gaze. "that feeling never really went away, and it was eating me up from the inside. it got so bad that i had convinced myself that you were going to leave me, so i had to do it first, before i fucked up."
your sorrowful confession hangs in the air like an echo and you finally give in to the urge to look at him, and you're shocked– he looks at you so carefully, his expression soft, much, much softer than before. you couldn't stop the tears from finally falling if you tried , the soft glow of the dashboard illuminating the contours of your now wet face. your shared eye contact makes you feel nervous, but not in the way you were expecting– it's too gentle, too raw and it makes you feel a certain way.
"i know it's not an excuse," you're blubbering so much that your cheeks feel hot, you're practically falling apart in the passenger seat of jaehyun's car while he watches and lets you pour all your miseries out onto him. "you don't know how much i regretted it...but i thought i did the right thing. for the both of us. even though i just ended up doing what i was trying to avoid by hurting you."
it's too much now, jaehyun's too silent, and too not-angry for your liking; why is he looking at you in a way that makes you feel like he doesn't think you're the worst person in the world? you can't hold back the sob that's building in your chest, doubling over in favour of pressing your hands against your face and bawling into them. you're not too loud a cryer, but the tremors of emotion you feel are making your shoulders shake, so you're crying silently into your hands while trembling. however guarded he tries to be, the gentleness of his voice overpowers it as he speaks. "i know, shh...," he murmurs and you can't believe your ears, that the man you thought hated you is actually attempting to comfort you after everything. "breathe, y/n."
like it's second nature to him, his hand travels to your back as the sobs wrack through your body, immediately drawing soothing circles on to your covered skin with his thumb. you don't know how but this almost makes you feel worse, the fact that he's still so caring towards you. you pluck up the strength to lift your face from your moist hands, and you're sure it's not a pretty sight that greets him. your nose feels unbelievably stuffy, and your face is on fire when you meet his sympathetic eyes, the warmth from his gaze and hand spreading throughout you, even though he's now removed it. "i'm sorry," you manage through sniffles, but you think you almost flatline when he reaches his hand towards your face, ever so gently caressing it. his thumb juts out and sweeps across the skin under your eye, wiping away at the wetness. "i know."
"shh, it's okay. you're okay", he coos gently and slowly takes his hand back in favour of imitating slow breaths for you, helping you relax a little as you copy him. "why would you think i'd leave you?", he asks carefully once you've calmed down a bit and wiped your tear-streaked face, simply surveying you now. all you can offer him is a defeated shrug, attempting to collect your thoughts. "remember i told you about my ex? the very first one?"
he nods.
"i moved on obviously, like ages ago, but since then i think i've always had this idea that getting dumped is inevitable", you try to explain, voice small as he listens patiently. "it was either leave them or get left, and i was so scared that it would happen with you, that i'd fuck up so bad that you would leave. i couldn't do it."
he frowns and calls out your name in a way that sounds like he's about to lecture you, but you know he can't tell you anything that you haven't already told yourself. "i know, jae, it was so stupid, i know. i don't regret anything more", you sigh, giving him a tight, small smile when you lock eyes. "i'm sorry."
you notice his eyes soften at the nickname, releasing a quiet huff before he runs a hand through his hair. his body language doesn't carry the same anger it did before when he was ranting, now looking subdued and reflective. "i understand why you did what you did. it was stupid, but i understand", he murmurs, his voice impossibly soft when meeting your gaze, the eye contact so intense that you have to physically remind yourself not to cry again by digging your fingernails into your palms. "i would've never left you."
you nod slowly at his admission, his words hanging in the air. "i should've just talked to you...", you concluded in a sullen way and he doesn't reply in full, just mumbling a soft "yeah" under his breath. you don't mind the silence that fills the car this time, the underlying tension more or less dissipated, but you do notice the time, realising that jaehyun still needs to go back home after dropping you.
"should we, uh...", you gesture towards the road and he jumps up in his seat, as though he forgot that he was driving you somewhere in the first place, muttering "sorry" before twisting the key to start the car. this makes you let out an involuntary giggle and jaehyun shoots you a quick glare which immediately shuts you up, a certain warmth blooming in your chest when you see a small smile creep on to his face out of the corner of your eye.
it's quiet for a bit, jaehyun focusing on the road while you gaze out the window. much to your dismay, both the road and the various buildings and shops start to look a lot more familiar, indicating that you are nearing your home. you shouldn't be dismayed really, because this wasn't the most congenial of car rides, but it means that your time with jaehyun is coming to an end. you don't know what the conversation that took place means for you and him however, because unless you're alarmingly stupid, you feel that he may not hate you as much as he once did. does this mean you might even be able to see him again sometime? in a setting where you're not sweating and shaking at just the thought of seeing him?
you think it might be a bit audacious of you to ask that, so you don't. instead, you turn to him with a light grin, playing with the necklace clasped around your neck. "hey, at least you got some new headphones out of all of this", you joke lightheartedly, eyeing the package sitting on the backseat. he lets out a heartwarming chuckle at your comment, glancing at the bag through his rear view mirror. "i can't believe your parents bought that for me. you think they'll make me return it when they find out we aren't together?", he remarks, and you do your best to ignore the little pang you feel at the reminder of your situation. his comment does make you snort though, and you nod along with him. "nah, you need it more than anyone. your airpods have seen better days."
he laughs again, and you wouldn't believe that you two were arguing back and forth like madmen some twenty minutes back. this feels familiar and comfortable, and you cross your fingers in case you jinx it. "do you remember that time when we planned a picnic..." jaehyun begins, a sense of nostalgia shining through his cheeks. "and you forgot to bring the speakers? and we tried blasting music through my one airpod?"
you can't stop the peals of laughter that escape from your mouth as you nod, covering your mouth when your snort makes him laugh as well. "remind me why we didn't just play the music straight from your phone?", you question, replaying the memory in your mind like it was recent. he pauses to think for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck while he hums. "yeah, what the fuck? why didn't we just do that?"
you're laughing in unison as you take this trip down memory lane together, the next few minutes of the car ride consisting of exclamations of "oh! remember when..." and "that time when...", both of you adding on to the memories with your own perspectives and insights. the fact that the conclusion of your little dispute remains ambiguous doesn't bother you too much at the moment, happy to just enjoy the warm atmosphere while you can.
jaehyun's animatedly recounting a story about your sister downloading a game on his phone when you face him, and the last thing you remember paying attention to was that she had somehow managed to spend a large amount of his actual money on it. your eyes are focused on him now, just studying him, and he seems to realise that you aren't listening to his story when he glances at you.
"what?", he questions, the corner of his eyes crinkling when he narrows them at you in an playful manner, taking one hand off the steering wheel to drum absentmindedly on his thigh. "nothing, i just...", you trail off, scanning his features. "you changed your hair. it's...nice. i wanted to tell you that earlier."
he clearly wasn't expecting the compliment, mouth opening and then closing as he tries to think of an admissible reply. "you like it?", he then asks, a shy smile tugging at his lips when he consciously cards his fingers through the longer bit at the back. at your reaffirming nod and heavy gaze, the expected pink sheen dusts his cheeks and though you can't see them, you know the tips of his ears are pink too. he mumbles something of a timid "thank you", both of you smiling like idiots while he trains his eyes on the road.
not too soon after, his car is pulling into your dark driveway. you can't help the sinking feeling in your chest, lips curved slightly downwards. none of the lights are on, save for the streetlight, illuminating the street in a ghostly, dim way. your house looks just like it had for the past many months, gloomy and lonely, and you're absolutely dreading the idea of moping around once again. if this day spent with jaehyun has showed you anything, it's that you're a 100% sure you've not moved on, and that you won't for a long, long time. simply put, you're still in love with him, and you'll have to carry the cross of your mistake for some time to come.
he switches the ignition off but neither of you move. you're sat in your dull driveway on an otherwise empty street, all the other lights of your neighbouring houses off. neither of you say anything, mostly because you're not sure what one is supposed to say in this situation, so everything is still.
"so–"
"well–"
you let out a nervous chuckle while he smiles a bit, both of you mumbling apologies for interrupting each other. "you go first", jaehyun compels you, but now you don't know what to say because you were just going to make it up as you speak. your mouth has a way of working faster than your brain sometimes, but neither seem to be too functional at the present moment. "no, you go", is all you got, and jaehyun has the nerve to roll his eyes, twisting in his seat a little so he's facing you.
"i was just going to say that we uh, reached your place", he claims in a deadpanned manner, but your car door is still locked and your seatbelt is still locked in. you think you must have lost your mind, hoping that he'd tell you to stay with him forever and never leave (which you would have agreed to in a heartbeat). "i guess we have...", you nod, looking out the window and observing your home. maybe it was the dread of going back to your old routine that gave you the sudden boost of confidence, but you realise he never answered your question from before.
"jaehyun...", you begin but falter when you think you might be overstepping, ultimately deciding to just ask anyway when he looks at you expectantly. "why did you agree to come today? we both know you didn't have to."
he looks like he was dreading the very question you asked for some time, shutting his eyes when he leans his head back against the headrest and sighs. "i don't know", is the answer he gives you, voice muffled through the palms of his hands that are rubbing his face tiredly. biting your lip, you have to hold back a similar sigh because you should've known he's not going to just tell you like that. you have no right to press, but yet you do, one more time. "jaehyun, please?"
maybe it's because you sound so meek, but he drops his hands in favour of looking at you, really looking at you, like he's searching your eyes. "why do you think?", he turns it back on you, but you know this is just his way of avoiding the question. "if i knew, i wouldn't be asking. i know you don't have to tell me, you don't owe me a single thing, i just–", you speak desperately with all of the confidence you can muster, worried that your bottom lip would start trembling again. "please, i need to know."
you're looking each other dead in the eye, and while your voice isn't strong, it's honest and raw, and jaehyun can sense that. you can see that there's a million thoughts running in his mind just by the pained look in his eye and your own heartbeat has picked up, the sound deafening in your ears.
"if you haven't figured it out by now, i don't know what to tell you."
thud. thud. thud. you wonder if he can hear your heartbeat over the sound of his, but the blood pumping through your veins is making your ears ring, because what did he mean by that? you hope it means what you want it to mean, but you can't just assume you know everything because you're delusional at this point. "jaehyun, what are you sayi–"
"i agreed because i'm still in love with you."
there it is. the silence after his confession is positively deafening, your mouth agape as your try to register what you just heard. your eyes flicker between his, searching for any signs that he's just messing you and that it's some cruel joke, though it would be completely in his right to fuck with you if he wanted. he's never looked more vulnerable, eyes trained on you in an almost frantic way, like he himself can't believe what he just said. the way he just blurted it out makes you think that he didn't fully mean to admit that, but it's out, nothing he could do to take it back.
"what?", your own voice sounds like an echo and you wish you had something else to say because you heard him loud and clear, but there's a burning ache in your chest that claws all the way up to your throat. the shock is evident in your voice, not knowing what to do with yourself as you visibly process his words. "tell me you're joking", you plead in a pained way, words barely above a whisper. he doesn't say anything, looking lost in his own thoughts as his eyes scan your face. "you don't hate me?"
"hate you?", he scoffs disconsolately, shaking his head slowly. "i couldn't hate you if i tried. and believe me, i tried."
you can hardly believe your ears. you know your heart shouldn't be pounding the way it is, it feels wrong almost for you to be feeling as relieved as you are. "after everything?", you insist dumbfoundedly, but the longing in your voice is palpable, even if you're trying to give him a way out. "i was so horrible to you, jaehyun." you hate the way your voice cracks, but jaehyun just sighs and offers you a sad smile.
"there's nothing you could do to make me hate you."
it's heartbreaking, how defeated he sounds, but he's also looking at you like you could do no wrong in his eyes. "i never moved on", you whisper, hesitance clear as you tell him the truth. "i couldn't delete any of our pictures, i still have all your clothes, sometimes i accidentally set the table for two when it's just me..."
he's blinking quickly, and if you didn't know any better, you'd say he was trying to hold back tears. your break-up did nothing but cause immense amounts of pain for the both of you, and you'd give anything in the world to make up the time lost. his wide-eyed and nearly motionless expression urges you to continue, ready to pour out your heart to the man you loved.
"i still have your number memorised", your face mirrors his, voice growing stronger by the minute. "all the gifts and letters you've ever given me, they're all still there in that shoebox in my cupboard."
"i thought about you everyday", his whisper is raspy, speaking right after you do. "every party i went to, i looked for you even though i knew you wouldn't be there. you know johnny tried setting me up with people?"
you try to suppress the little sting, but you feel it deep inside you. "he did?", you have to clear your throat, and you almost don't want to ask but you do anyway. he releases a sad little chuckle and nods, toying with his fingers. "yeah. i knew i was doomed when the whole date, i wished she was you."
the smile finds its way on to your face against your will, feeling that familiar lump make its way to your throat. "she could've made you happy, jae", you argue anyway because at the end of the day, you want the best for him, and you know you're far from the best.
"no one could make me feel the way you do, y/n", he replied honestly, and there's a sense of finality to his words, like he'd had this same argument with himself time and time again, only to come to this conclusion. “the thought of anyone else touching you made me sick”, he croaked, not missing the way his eyes ghost over your frame.
his words bring about a noticeable shift in the air, followed by silence. he watches you, and you watch him, breathing slow as your eyes dart across his face.”i don’t want anyone but you”, you confess slowly, and a few beats pass before you find it in you to speak again. "i love you, jaehyun."
silence.
you expected disapproval, maybe even a malicious scoff, but you certainly weren't expecting to feel a soft pair of lips against yours as he suddenly lurches forward.
you're stunned, so stunned that you don't even reciprocate the kiss, lips unmoving against his. it's only when he takes this as a sign of discomfort and breaks the kiss that you find yourself reacting, hands immediately making their way to caress his cheeks, leaning forward to chase his lips and close the distance between you. he lets out a sound of surprise against your lips but kisses you back right away, a hand wrapping around your neck from the back, tangling itself in your hair. the kiss is heated and so long overdue, tangible through the way his lips meld furiously together with yours, teeth clashing every now and then.
your hands make their way to his broad shoulders, one wrapping around them while the other comes to rest on his chest, gripping the material of his hoodie. you have the urge to be impossibly close to him, trying to lean forward to kiss him more fully but you're restricted by your seatbelt. it's almost as if he can read your mind, because the hand placed against your face now moves to press on the buckle to release you without breaking the kiss. "fucking seatbelt...", he mumbles disgruntedly against your lips, fiddling with the button until you hear it click, finally separating yourself from him to slip it over you. "there we go."
you don't stay separated for long because jaehyun uses the hand behind your head to pull you towards him again, capturing your lips in a way that makes all the air leave your lungs. "come here", he grunts, using his long arms to pull you clumsily over the gearshift and straight on to his lap. you settle yourself in to the somewhat awkward position in the enclosed space, but that's the last thing on your mind when all your thoughts consist of jaehyun, jaehyun, jaehyun. his lips are back on yours in a instance, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip messily and you gladly allow it to explore your mouth.
the air is impossibly thick, heavily contrasting to the cold weather outside the car, even his lips and hands feel warm against your hot body. you feel his hands grip your waist easily in this position, lips leaving your own to drag across the expanse of your jaw. you whine quietly at the feeling of his mouth sucking a particular spot on your neck, tilting your head back as you wrap your arms around his neck. "missed this", he muses, tongue peeking out to kitten lick at your neck, breath hot against your sensitive skin. "missed you."
the feeling in your chest when his hands find their way under your shirt and on to your bare skin is inexplicable, unable to stop the soft moan from tumbling from your lips when his big hands glide over your stomach, back and finally your breasts. everything about the way he's touching you and kissing you is greedy and urgent, like he's afraid you'll disappear from his arms if he loosens his grip even by a little bit. you'd be a fool to not match this energy, pressing into him while you squeeze your hands over his. "need you so bad, jae."
you're subconsciously grinding down against him needily, hips stuttering against his lap like you've never been touched before. "fuck", your eyes widen at the groan that leaves his throat, sounding absolutely guttural as he grips the skin of your hip harshly.
he's barely done anything and you're coming undone right in front of his watchful eyes, your panties dampening at the look on his face. "jae..", you whine when his fingers dip past the waistband of your pants, gently cupping your clothed core as you rut against it. "shit, baby", he marvels at the stickiness of your panties, feeling your wetness on his fingers just through the material. "you really missed me, huh?"
you don't even have the time to respond to his cocky remark before his fingers are slipping beneath the band of your panties to circle your clit, spreading the wetness around your folds. a breathy sigh escapes your lips, throwing your head back as he experimentally prods at your entrance and eventually slips a finger inside. "still so tight for me", he all but groans, pumping his finger in and out of you languidly, drinking in the sounds of your pleasure. he feels so blissfully familiar, and though you haven't been touched by him, or anyone for that matter for months, the stretch of his second finger feels the same kind of intimate as it did before, if not more.
you lean forward and press your lips against his once again, kissing him like you might never get the chance to again, all while you're grinding back down on his hand that's fingering you steadily with a thumb circling your clit at the same time. his free hand moves to bunch your top up above your breasts, peppering kisses over the tops of them. he wastes no time in pulling your breasts free from from their cups, attaching his lips to one nipple and swirling his tongue around it in a way that makes you cry out. "my pretty girl", he mumbles almost to himself while cupping your other breast, making a show out of it as his tongue flicks over your hardened bud over and over until your arching your back and pressing it further into his face. “thought about this all the time.”
keeping in mind that you're still technically in a public place, you bite your lip to contain the sounds of your pleasure, though jaehyun doesn't make it easy when he notices this and increases the pace of his fingers. the hand fondling your breast leaves it unattended for a moment to release your bottom lip from your teeth, smoothing his thumb over the swollen skin. "i've waited months to hear these sounds. let me hear you, baby", he all but purrs and that's all it takes for a moan to tumble out of your mouth, pressing your forehead against the side of his face while you screw your eyes shut out of pleasure.
with his attack on your sensitive buds and his fingers pistoning inside of you, you know you aren't going to last long. "already?", jaehyun chides with a small smirk, and it's embarrassing how well he knows your body, grazing his teeth against your nipple in a way that feels painful and heavenly at the same time. you can feel his rock hard bulge against you, and with the untimely grinding of your hips against him, you're sure this is torturous for him. "don't wanna come like this", you whine against his cheek, your entire body feeling sticky from the heat inside the closed vehicle. your puckered lips leave wet kisses all over the expanse of his cheek, and the boyish giggle that leaves his mouth makes your heart flutter. "wanna feel you, jae."
his head is thrown back against the headrest and his eyes are shut tightly, jaw clenched as he slowly slips his fingers out of you. though you whine at the loss of contact and you're almost grinding against the air, you want nothing more than to make him feel good as well. "want you to fill me up", you coo at him, softly linking your hands behind his neck as you test the waters with your words. it's clear they have an effect on him, both hands placed on your hips as he helps you lazily grind against his erection. "don't– have a condom", he grits out, hips bucking up to meet yours. "don't need one", you murmured immediately, knowing he wants this as bad as you do.
his eyes flicker open at that, one hand leaving your hip to brush some stray hairs away from your face, gently tucking some behind your ear. you could melt at the way he's looking at you, so tender and loving, a warmth spreading all over you until you feel like you have to look away. he doesn't let you however, hand quickly coming you to cup your cheek before leaning in place a small peck against your lips. "are you sure?", he sounds breathless, but still firm as his eyes glance between yours like he's reading them.
if he can read them, he'll know that you can't nod fast enough, dragging your hips across his needily to show him. "i'm sure. i want you, jae.", you're so needy that you don't even bother to take your pants or panties off fully, fingers fumbling with the waistband as you shimmy them down a little, leaving your underwear on. you swear your mouth waters when he unbuttons his pants and lets his cock spring out against his stomach, lustful eyes taking in the way he keeps his shirt up with his teeth. if this weren't such an awkward position, you'd have taken him in your mouth in an instant, knowing exactly what to do to hear the man in front of you whimper.
nudging your panties to the side, he focuses on collecting your wetness all over the tip of his dick, hissing at the contact. "please", you whine, not wanting to waste another moment, finally sighing in relief when he begins to press his cock inside you. he swears under his breath at the feeling, and you're feeling so stretched out just from him slipping it in even though you're still so wet that you just go lax in his arms until he bottoms out. "that's it", he grunts like he's holding back. "taking me so well, angel."
you preen at his praise, finally beginning to move your hips a little at his coaxing. sighing against the shell of his ear, he picks up the pace for you, not warning you before thrusting upwards to meet your movements with a groan. you can feel your mind going blank at the sensation, your moans sounding more like cries whenever he snaps his hips into yours, the obscene sounds filling the car. you're just so full, his hands gliding up and down your sides as he fucks deep inside you, making up for all the lost time. "you feel so good, baby", he barely gets his words out, but it gives you the encouragement to bounce up and down on his thick cock a little faster than before, his eyes widening at the feeling. "just like that."
he's kissing and sucking all over your neck again, lips ghosting over whatever skin he can reach and it's all so much, feeling a single tear stream down your face. he almost slows down for a second when he feels the tear drop on to his own face, eyebrows raised in surprise because he thinks he's hurting you, but he's even more shocked when you let out the high-pitched whine. "what's wrong, angel?", he mumbles into your neck, peering up at you carefully. you shake your head profusely, continuing to grind down on his cock. "i just- just love you so much, jae", you blabber incoherently, so wet that you're practically gushing around his dick.
"aw, baby", he shushes you sweetly, pressing his forehead against yours as his thrusts become more and more erratic. "i'm here. not going anywhere." the coil in your stomach is tightening and you can feel every inch of him inside you, more tears threatening to spill from your eyes before he's kissing them away. "i'm here."
he's hitting all the right spots inside you in this position, and he's basically doing all the work because you're like putty in his strong arms, all you can do is moan and cry out against him weakly. "i'm close", you warn him, but you know he already knows that, and you know he is too, slipping your hand down to where his rests on your hip and interlacing your fingers. "me too, pretty", he sputters through his teeth, giving your hand a tight squeeze as you start to come undone. “want you to cum. can you do that for me?”
"oh my god", you're crying out as you cum around his cock, body and mind going numb and ears ringing as the coil finally snaps. "cum inside me, jae, please", his eyes go wide at the way you're begging him, and he doesn't look like he can hold back much longer. "fuck angel, you- you sure–"
"yes, please, need you to fill me up", you cut him off, too sensitive from the way he's helping you ride out your high to move anymore. with a few more sloppy thrusts, his cock is twitching inside you before you lets out a guttural groan, his warm cum filling you up. you go limp against him, face nuzzled into the crook of his neck as the both of you try to regulate your heartbeats.
the sounds of your heavy breathing fills up the car along with jaehyun's soft murmurs of "so perfect" and "did so well for me". any doubts you had in your mind of this being a mistake in jaehyun's eyes are wiped away when he begins petting your head, gently smoothing your messy hair as he presses firm kisses to your head. his cock softens inside of you but he makes no move to pull out, wrapping his arms around your waist while you do the same around his neck, simply sitting in each other's presence silently.
you struggle but finally pick yourself up, gazing at his moonlit face from your place on his lap. “you okay? was that okay?”, he murmurs softly, his voice thick and eyes hazy as he traces little shapes on your back. “more than okay”, you reply tiredly, pressing your lips against his once again because you feel you’re in a dream-like state right now. you're sure he's the most beautiful man you're ever had the privilege of looking at, feeling incredibly vulnerable when you speak again even though he's looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes. "now what?", you question, suddenly feeling like you've jumped the gun when he opens his mouth to say something but stays silent. "never mind, don't answer that, we'll talk about it later", you shake your head, laughing a little breathlessly when he grins at you, pecking his forehead sweetly.
you look away from him and at your lifeless house, mouth working faster than your brain once again. "would you...want to come in?", you wince, feeling kind of stupid for asking but meaning it anyway. you're both comforted and thrilled when a large grin is plastered on to his face, feeling like maybe your home won't be as lifeless anymore.
"i think i'd love to come in."
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anantaru · 8 months ago
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GENSHIN + BREAK UP, MAKE UP
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— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — you fuck your ex boyfriend and shocker, you love it ᰔ
— ꒰ including ꒱ — alhaitham, ayato, heizou, wriothesley x fem! reader
— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — ex boyfriend trope, slightly toxic & mean boys, bratty! reader ??? dirty talk, oral (male! receiving), fingering, cowgirl position, cumming inside, lots of cum lol, dom characters
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— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱
"hey, don't insult me now," alhaitham looks at you with a prized confusion in his eyes— while also taking care of your bodies needs and desires, his cock pressing deeply in you. "what's with the attitude i hear?" his voice was clearly hinting at a hazed tone as he pants against your wet cheek, your tits flushed against his solid chest.
you gasp at him, curving your fingers into his hair to pull it, "w-what attitude?" your hips involuntarily buck into his cock so he would hopefully get the hint and continue to move, more so stop being so annoying for once in his life.
"you're hiding it from me," he whispers cruelly, "don't act stupid now, aren't you so smart?" as his hips begin to grind through your tight hole, a warm press slowly distending in your cunt and swelling in your belly.
"you hide your moans from me, fuck, you brat, you know what that does to me," under the cover of a shaken exhale, he shoves you into the mattress even further— no mercy, no signs of previous affection, only a raw and pleasuring handle.
archons, how much you loathed the way he always had you figured out this quickly.
how, just how.
but well, it's not like you were a couple anymore, correct? so why would you give him the pleasure of hearing you? knowing full on well he finds it to be the best part whenever he fucked you.
just so he could pride himself again? scrap that, he doesn't deserve it, nor to indulge into every drop of desire you give him.
"hah, you're so weak alhaitham," you bite back a whimper, "still so weak for me," as your hole clenches, throbs and milks against his awfully hard cock before you look at him through a wet expression, his hair soused and messy sticking all over his forehead, pressed into the light sheen of sweat across his face, "or maybe you aren't doing a good job,"
it's dangerous— playing that game with your ex. but it's also worth the gamble.
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— ꒰ AYATO ꒱
like a puppy, you preciously kneel between ayato's legs, slightly leaning against one of his muscular thighs— one hand proudly holding his cock in your grasp to stroke him, your wet tongue circulating over the leaking slit just how he liked it.
but that familiar infatuation from months ago, when you were still considering yourself a team, that disgustingly known taste of your tongue on his cock made the yashiro commissioner twitch in your hand— is it desperation in his movements? or longing?
it reminds him all too much on how things used to be.
when you were in a relationship, of course, "in love", and where fucking you wasn't just fucking to neither of you, it was making love.
a longing that filled the whole breast with its mad virus.
it was much, much. he could never argue against the fact that you were the only one who could make him fall to his knees.
you flick the tip of your tongue back and forth over the inflamed head, teasing the slit and making him shudder, finding it more and more satisfying to have someone within such position under your grasp, the constant press of need and attention on your cunt only coming second.
"y-your mouth feels so fucking good," he heaves and embarrassingly coughs out right after— well, it's not that deep? because hey, a commissioner doesn't curse now, does he? but he did it for you, always.
how were you able to always coax that out of him?
your hand tightens around his erection, adding shallow yet precise pumps over his shaft as you cup his balls roughly, massaging them in your palm and wetting them with your saliva.
he's already wet of both his pre and your spit, yet you do not waste any chance to spit on his tip again, again and again until your cheeks and chin where littered with filth, finding it rather enchanting whenever ayato moans disgustingly hot.
chest rising, falling again, groans hitching at the feeling of your saliva sliding down his tip.
"i want to touch you too, come on now, don't you want me to touch you?" he begins to whimper, stroking over your head affectionately as you look up at him, flexing your throat, grabbing at his shaft more firmly.
he continues, although it gets harder to breathe, "don't you want my fucking hands on you, come on, admit it," fuck, ayato was so pent up— from work? from going through a messy break up? from being alone?
archons who was he fooling besides himself? it's due to how much he has missed you, missed this, missed your scent all around him.
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— ꒰ HEIZOU ꒱
"oh your so wet, well look at this, look at this all over my hand,"
"some things never change, hm?" heizou moans softly and parades his glistening fingers to your blinking eyes as you whined out, trying to shift from his body hovering on top.
it's futile— not because you actually want him to stop, but because you really wanted this, despite him being so embarrassing and blunt about it.
what little movement you managed to coax from your hips merely aroused you further as heizou stuck his fingers back into your cunt— two slippery digits scissoring you hard, reaching deeper and floating inside you like inside water before rubbing his thumb back and forth your clit.
your thoughts were sluggish, and you found yourself overwhelmed due to the fact that your body enjoyed it, and so did your mind.
you knew this was wrong, this shouldn't happen, this wouldn't make it easier for either of you in the long run. but you couldn't think beyond that when all you thought about was his next touch and buck of his hands thrusting into your cunt.
your skin tingles, ever hot as he presses and rubs and strokes until every inch of your being was shivering in need and regretting ever breaking up with him.
no matter how often you try to act like he isn't setting a fire along the slopes of your skin, the detective will never stop seeking you out for this, conquering your sinful spots until you're fucked out of your mind, only then he will get close to your ear and ask you to say that you regret ever letting him go.
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— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱
"do you still fucking hate me?" there was a rumble emitting from wriothesley's chest, and for one long moment, he was consumed by nothing more other than your tight cunt riding him fiercely, "do you still refuse to admit that you secretly like this?"
if only he could shut up for just a damn second, just one.
"do you?" your eyes flew open to him in anger, your gaze aggravated in its entire embrace, how dare he mock this— but an expanding shock of his hips bucking into you forced a new bodily reaction from your shuddering frame, enough to override the otherwise enticing anger you were about to spit like venom into his proud face.
your back arches as you shoot him a dangerous glare— one that could easily get confused with a please please do fuck me harder, instead of hold your tongue you asshole.
because you see, don't act out on anger, instead luxuriate in the crushing weight of his cock between your legs, hard and heavy throbbing as you ride him, pleasure and fuck him hard— still pondering about how difficult it always had been to fit his entire length inside of you.
you let your legs shift apart more as your tits bounce in combination with your movements, your back arching as your pussy began to milk him fiercely, squelch and squelch as the deep, bloating throbs of his shaft scrub over the bends of your walls, until reaching your swelling belly.
you turn sensitive, he knows it, the duke can feel it.
"oh, come on now baby," pride gushes from his mouth as he tilts his head, tightly holding your waist before thrusting up. you wouldn't let him bath inside his confidence any longer as you lightly punch his chest upon hearing him use a damn petname.
"oh? you don't want me to call you that?"
"obviously not," you shake your head, wetting your lips, despite that, he could hear the arousal in your voice, "why are you clenching when i say it then? baby~" as he maintains his ardour, refusing to allow you to control your little get together as he mercilessly thrusts up into you, thick and heavy cock slipping in and out, your arousal running down his balls.
your moans are a little more breathless now, shaken as the pumping motions of his erection slapping against your pussy only grew needier.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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rafesslxt · 7 months ago
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✧.* 𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 | 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃
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àȘœâ€âžŽ your best friends get a hint of how sexually frustrated you are and offer their help
: ̗̀➛ nsfw, smut, teasing, making out, nicknames, cheating with Tom, fingering, oral on female, p in v unprotected, nipple sucking
「 ✩ Mattheo, Tom, Theodore, Enzo, Draco, Pansy ✩ 」
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Mattheo:
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❄ It didn‘t took him long to notice something‘s wrong. You two sit together in potions, currently making a new potion. Normally you two would laugh and banter all the time, teasing each other but you were so quiet today and didn‘t even look at him
❄ "Y/n, is everything alright?" he asks and puts his hand on your shoulder, drawing a little whine from you. His eyebrows knitted and he took a step back, scanning you whole. He just then noticed your flushed cheeks, flustered expression, your thighs pressed together and your bottom lip between your teeth. You were turned on.
❄ He wanted to test his theory a little and started to prepare the ingredients for the potion in front of you two. He flexed his arms a little, knowing you liked his hands because you once told him when you two were drunk. He saw your hungry gaze at his hands, making him smile to himself.
❄ "Here, chop up the root. Can you do that for me, doll?" He softly breathed against your face, coming dangerous close to you. The nickname gave you visible shiver‘s, just feeding right into his ego. He had a crush on you since forever but never actually had the balls to tell you.
❄ After class was over and you guys were free he pulled you with him to his dorm. "M-mattheo what are you doing?" you wondered but followed him. He closed the door behind you and grabbed you by your hips, pushing you against the door. A gasp left your lips and you looked at him like a deer in the lights.
❄ "Care to tell me why you‘re so .. on edge?" Thats when you finally let everything out. You broke up with your boyfriend and the reason was simple: He couldn't fuck. Mattheo had to hold back a laugh at your outburst of emotions. "It's not funny! It's so frustrating you can't even imagine!"
❄ "Want me to help you? You know.. like a best friend would." he offers you with a smug smirk on his face. You thought he was joking until he had you trembling and shaking under him. He hit every corner and touched every part of your skin that was untouched by your ex-boyfriend. "What are friends for huh?" he moaned when you clenched around him, your nails digging into his back when your orgasm came nearer. Let's just say, you never ever had to fear bad sex again.
Tom Riddle:
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❄ You and your best friend Tom sat together in the library when no one was there anymore, thank‘s to Tom‘s charm and good reputation. It all started with your leg bouncing the whole time until Tom send you an annoyed glare which made you stop immediately.
❄ But it continued with your sighing. It got so distracting that at one point Tom slapped his book down onto the table so hard that you flinched. "Please tell me why you‘re sighing like a hurt puppy the whole damn time."
❄ You really considered telling him but you were kind of shy when talking about things like that. On top if that Tom already hated your boyfriend and you didn‘t want to give him another reason to add to the list. "Nothing, just.. tired."
❄ Tired my ass was what Tom thought. He knew you were lying so he had to try a different way. It didn‘t took him long to get inside your head with his new found skill ' Legilimency'
❄ "He told you what?!" Tom suddenly shouts at you. "What?" you asked him confused. "He told you that when you asked him for some foreplay?" He didn‘t even tried to hide the fact that he read your mind. "Tom! Stop going through my head all the damn time!" "Did he seriously tell you it‘s not worth the time?"
❄ He scoffs when you tell him the whole thing that happened with your boyfriend. "No wonder you‘re that sexually frustrated." "Excuse me?" "Come on. All the sighing and leg bouncing the whole time? Your body needs release." He said in a monotone voice like he talked about the weather. "Well – it‘s not that easy Tom." "It is. Let me help you."
❄ Since he could read your mind it made no sense to even try and deny the excitement that went through your body at his offer. He had you laying all spread out for him on the library desk in front of him. Books and notes all over the place and even floor. Your skirt got pushed up to your stomach and his fingers skillfully played with your throbbing clit.
❄ "Look at that. How could this not be worth anyone‘s time hm?" Tom muttered while sucking on your nipples, switching every minute between them while pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit until you came around his digits. And that waw just the beginning of a whole night of foreplay.
Theodore Nott:
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❄ That‘s exactly how your best friend looks at you when he overhears you talking to Pansy, telling her, you haven‘t slept with someone in so long that you would do abything for dick now. Obviously it was a joke. But obviously Theo wouldn’t be Theo If he didn‘t already formed a plan in his head.
❄ Teasing was the keyword. And patience. Theo‘s plan was to tease you little by little over days to get a reaction out of you.
❄ First day he brushed past you every here and there with his hips pushing slightly against you and his hands on your hips. It made your whole head spin and you tried to calm down, seeing him smiling at you innocently.
❄ The second day was just as simple. The whole day he whispered into your ear, laughing, joking, asking things about the class you two were having right now. And with every whisper he brushed his lips against your ear lobe or shell, his warm breath hitting your skin and leaving goosebumps behind.
❄ On the third day he got a bit bolder. When you started bouncing your leg or fidgeting with your fingers, he would put his hand on your thigh. High. He said "It‘s to calm you down a little bit cara mia." His big hands squeezing your flesh and his fingers stroking your desperate skin.
❄ Day four you and all your friends sat in the common room on the couch by the fireplace. You sat next to Theo of course, sharing a blanket since it‘s cold due the late night. At some point he had you leaning against his chest with his arms around you. While you lazily listened to Draco telling ya‘ll a story, Theo‘s finger started to dance over your slighty exposed skin on your stomach. Your shirt mist have rosen up a little under the blanket. You sucked in a breath, trying not to melt right there in front of everyone.
❄ Day five and six were the hardest because he completely neglected you. He talked to you but never stood beside you or sat next to you in class or lunch. It drove you literally crazy. Why would he do this to you? He didn‘t even hug you. But you also couldn‘t ask him because how would that sound? 'Hey Theo why don‘t you touch me anymore?' No thanks.
❄ Day seven was when you actually broke. "Theo, we need to talk, please." You practically dragged him away from the rest of your friends to your‘s and Pansy‘s room. "How can I help you principessa?" he asked with a smug smile on his face. "Touch me." was all you blurted out. He raised his eyebrows and looked surprised at you. "What?" "Touch me Theo, please. I - I can‘t concentrate anymore when you‘re not near me."
❄ Well – what was supposed to be innocent touching and stroking, ended with you on your belly on your bed with Theo behind you, pounding his cock into your pussy. "Everytime from now on that you feel like this, you come to me, capito?"
Lorenzo Berkshire:
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❄ You and Enzo were best friends since you could remember. You two have gone through everything together. Break-up‘s, first heartbreak, fighting with parents, puberty, seeing each other naked by accident, literally everything.
❄ You two were so close that nobody even questioned it when you were cuddling under a blanket in the common room late at night while your friends talked about how unfair the quidditch game today was.
❄ "Did you use that peach-shampoo again?" he whispered into your ear when you layed down on his chest and your hair was right under his nose. You looked up at him and nodded with a smile, knowing it was his favorite. He sighs when he inhales it and wraps his arms around you, his fingers playing with the hem of your little crop top.
❄ Enzo was so concentrated at sonething Theodore told the group, that he didn‘t notice how he started to play with the top of her skirt, his fingers gliding under it so innocently. When you noticed you stopped breathing for a second, glanzing up at your best friend who didn‘t seem to notice what he was doing.
❄ At first it was okay but after ten more minutes, you felt yourself getting restless in his arms and shifted every now and then in his lap. You felt yourself get slowly turned on from his little touch. With his second hand he started to stroke your thigh mindlessly, not realizing how your cheeks started to get red and your pussy wet. You pressed your lips together.
❄ Then it happened. Your hips grinded against his lap out of the pleasure and desperation you felt. He froze immediately and stopped moving his hands and fingers. He gulped and looked down at you, your heavy eyes already looking up at him when you grinded against him again boldly.
❄ He swallowed down a moan when your ass grinded against his crotch. "What are you doing baby?" The nickname send shivers down your spine together with his raspy voice against your ear. "I think – I think I need out friendship to go to the next level." You breathed out. You saw him biting his lips when his hands startet moving again. One hand continueing massaging your thigh while the other slipped down into your underwear and went straight to your slick folds.
❄ "Shit you‘re soaked." he breathed when he dipped his finger into your wet pussy, teasing your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked up and you tried to be as quiete as possible so your friends around you wouldn‘t notice. Right when you were about to come around his fingers, he pulled them away, your eyes going wide.
❄ You glared up at him with a desperate look in your eyes and rosy cheeks. He licked his fingers clean when no one watched and smirked down at you. "Don‘t worry baby, you‘re gonna come around something way bigger."
Draco Malfoy:
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❄ "Draco?" "Yes, y/n?" You currently were in his room at the malfoy manor due holiday‘s and since his parents really liked you – good reputation and behavior, pure blood family and a lot of money – they never had a problem with you over. The complete opposite was the case. They often hoped you two would be more than best friends some day.
❄ "Can you remember when you told me you would do anything for me?" You asked him with your voice cute and hopeful. "No.. but go on." You roll your eyes at his answer but go on like he said.
❄ "Well, there is something that you could do for me that I think you would enjoy too." you said carefully. His eyebrows rose up and he looked at you curious now. "Oh yeah and what would that be, doll?" That‘s the nickname he used on you everytime you asked him for a favor.
❄ Now or never, right? "I - I want you.. tofuckme." His eyes go wide and his jaw fell to the floor. "What did you just say?" he asks slowly, not sure If he understood right. "I said Iwantyoutofuckme." He stood up and walked over to you, grabbing you by your chin. "Y/n.. tell me slowly what you said or I swear – " "I want you to fuck me, Draco."
❄ His lips crashed into yours just a second later, pushing you down on his bed. You kissed him vack, more confused than he was. "Are you- aren‘t you gonna ask why I want this so suddenly?" you gasp when he starts sucking on your neck and his fingers already opening your jeans.ïżŒ
❄ "Fuck no, you can tell me afterwards. I don‘t care." he breathes befïżŒore he throws all of your clothes all over his room and fucks you into his mattress for the whole night.
❄ After you two were done he pulïżŒled you against his chest, still breathing heavily. "And? What was the reason?" he asked out of breath. "Well uh – I broke up with Colin. He just couldn‘t make me happy in and outside the bedroom so .. I wanted to ask you to help me since ai felt so.. worked up." He chuckled deeply and pulled you even closer. "Told you he‘s a loser.." you roll your eyes at his comment. "You‘re mine bow, hope you know that."
Pansy Parkinson:
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❄ "Pansy, can I ask you something?" you asked your best friend. You two shared a dorm together and sat currently in front of the tv you had bought for the two if you. Her new favorite show "baby" was playing. It was a italian show and she loved learning new languages. "Of course, what‘s wrong?" "Why has something to be wrong?" "Y/n.. you never ask to ask something.. only when something is wrong."
❄ You had to smile a little at her answer and rolled your eyes playfully. "Since you‘re sleeping with boys and girls.. I wanted to ask you.. do you enjoy going down on girls?" Pansy looks at you surprised. "Why are you asking me that? This isn‘t coming from no where."
❄ I sigh and look at my hands. "Uhm – Brody said he doesn‘t like it and it .. freaks him out." I tell her what my boyfriend told me. Her eyes go wide and she almost shouts at me, "He said what?!" "Can you please just answer me Pansy?"
❄ She sighs and looks at my fidgety hands. "Of course I enjoy it and what kind of man is he that he says something like that to you?" "Is it possible that maybe it‘s.. me? That something is wrong with me and not him? Maybe it looks weird or-" "Y/n stop. I promise you nothing is wrong with you love."
❄ "But you can‘t know that Pans.." "Do you want to try?" Now you are the one who looks at her in shock. "You would ?" "Yeah but only If you‘re comfortable with it of course. I know that you only have been with boys." Your cheeks heated up a little at the thought of doing something so intimate with your best friend. You two have talked about that one time and Pansy knew how open you were to trying it someday with a woman too.
❄ Let‘s just say from there on you never questioned yourself again. "Pansy I - that‘s do good." You let out a whinper, your habds going through her hair. "Hmm such a pretty girl. You‘re doing so good love." She praised you, smiling to herself. She would have a lot of fun with you in the future.
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let me know If you liked it đŸ«¶đŸ» and sorry if pansy‘s part is so short but i ran out of time, ideas and i never wrote for her before đŸ€
taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @cardi-bre91 @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @auxcordlawd @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis
My masterlist and taglist đŸ€
xoxo sarah <3
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fushiguho · 18 days ago
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*àłƒàŒ„ Santa's Coming, Literally!
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⋆.àłƒàż”*: Synop. Ho! Ho! Ho! Santa Claus is coming to a local shopping mall near you! Buttt, there’s one thing
 is it okay that he’s just your shitty ex-boyfriend in a cheap red suit? He said he’s sorry! :(
Warnings fem!reader, unprotected, semi-public sex, toji fushiguro in a santa costume, ex-lovers, toji has a filthy mouth (duh), breeding, makeup sex, toji’s redemption arc
WC 2k
A/N i had a thought so i opened my notes app. now here we are and i’m scared of what i've written..
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“Hi, Santa.” You’re grinning ear to ear as you ecstatically approach the podium upon which the large man sits, his characteristically strapping thighs deliciously sprawled and awaiting in the middle of a large, barren shopping center.
The impersonator hums, quirking a thick, omniscient brow. “Aren’t you a little too old to be sittin’ on Santa’s lap, little girl?” Grumbles the burly stranger that is somehow meant to be Santa Claus. You observe the short tufts of sable hair that peek from below his soft crimson hat, black stubble peppering the skin beneath his detachable beard. They must be on a tight budget, you think.
Your eyes narrow. “Aren’t you supposed to be
 I don’t know, jolly?” It’s hardly a joke as you observe the man closer. “Like isn’t that your entire shtick?” You’re seated oh so prettily atop his lap, yet the smile you once wore fades into a pout of utter disbelief, an all too wonted feeling crashing down. Your nose wriggles at the familiar redolence of a cheap, aromatic cologne. Only one man would wear such a maddeningly nauseating scent. “Wha— Toji? God, is that you?”
The faux-bearded man sucks his teeth, eyes rolling in tandem. An inquisitive hand is sneaking up to snatch his limp, crimson hat, and lo and behold, there sits your penniless ex-boyfriend, a crooked, unabashed grin marring those lips you’ve missed so dearly. He expels an exasperated sigh, annoyed that you found him out. “Yeah.” He admits almost defeatedly.
“
 why?”
He shrugs. “Dunno, easy money.” His timbre voice cuts, large hips mindlessly adjusting beneath you. “Well? Whadaya want for Christmas then, damnit?”
A hand of disbelief is creeping up to cover your gaped mouth, pretty eyes wide and critical as you swallow the urge to laugh right in his irritatingly perfect face. You can hardly help the small giggle that tumbles past your fingers. “For you to get a real job, god. How did you even come about this? You hate kids.”
A deep, familiar sigh drags from his beautifully scarred lips. “If you’re just gonna sit on my lap to berate me, I’d appreciate a hefty tip at least.” You follow his descending gaze to observe the sad tip jar bedside him. Inside lies a singular, crumpled dollar bill alongside three, pathetic pennies.
“I mean, that hardly bothered you much before and I didn’t even have to pay you then.” You quip, head cocking to the right as you arch a challenging brow.
“Well, that was before you dumped me.”
“Well,” you mock, shoving an accusatory finger into his chest, “you were a shit boyfriend. You deserved it.”
He nods quietly, sucking his teeth. “Said I was sorry, doll.”
“And I said apology not accepted. Do not call me that either.”
“Why, doll? Hardly bothered you much before, heh.” He derides, that same, shit-eating grin lazily spreading across his lips, his intent to piss you off working seamlessly. 
“We’re done here.” You grouse, reaching back to push yourself off of his lap, yet two greedy hands are grabbing hold of your hips, impertinently pulling you back. “Toji.” It’s merely a growl, a warning.
“Oh, c’monnn don’t be like that.” He whines, situating you comfortably onto his lap, his bulging arms wrapping possessively around your waist. “I’m just fucking with you, okay? Dunno why you’re actin’ like you don’t miss me though.” You hear the grin that parts his lips. “I just know you do.”
You’re staring off, back turned as your arms cross over your chest. “I promise you I don’t.”
“Liar.” It’s barely a whisper against the shell of your ear, his breath warm, inciting.
And just like that, you’re falling back into his trap once again, yet this time, he’s dressed as Santa Claus. It’s precisely how you ended up here — achy, trembling thighs spread wide as Toji repeatedly drops you onto his fat, leaking cock. With his back flush against the soft, creaky couch of the employee break room, two burly hands are heavy on the fat of your ass, brazenly spreading you apart as he mindlessly fucks himself inside of your drooling cunt.
God and it’s rather obscene — the repetitive batter of his swollen balls against the gleaming slit of your ass, your poor, leaking pussy effortlessly swallowing the entirety of his cock as if no time has passed at all. Premature arousal spills against your bruised cervix with every kiss of his swollen cockhead. Over and over and over again, he bullies himself deeper and deeper, fucking to the very back of your pretty cunt like a madman on the brink of utter insanity.
Thrust after thrust is forcing the white, fluffy trim of his hat to droop over his eyes, partially occluding his vision. The spineless tip of the red coned cap flops to the left, the white pom-pom at the very end bouncing with each bruising buck of his hips. He groans, burly chest whorishly exposed. The buttons to his plush, velvet coat undone while the white shirt he wears beneath is shoved above his pectorals.
“Goddd,” he gapes, “how could you deprive me of this? Of her? Been missin’ this perfect pussy
 think about her all the f— fucking time.” Deliriously, his head is dropping to the side, maw falling slack as his darkened eyes catch yours. “You miss me, baby huh? Miss the way I take care of this sloppy little pussy? And don’t you lie to me, it hurts my heart you know.” He pouts.
Stubbornly, you shake your head in refutation, a contradicting whimper dragging from your parted lips. Your sweater is haphazardly hiked above your chest, perfect tits spilling out the confines of your bra. A glistening sheen of syrupy saliva coats your chest — you’re drooling. It’s utterly embarrassing the way your body is so plainly working against you; your head shaking no, yet the way your arousal slobbers down the length of his cock, his sweet name on the tip of your tongue says otherwise.
He scoffs. “You sure?” Several curious fingers are dragging across your chest, collecting the adorning saliva. “Sweetheart, you’re drooooling.” He coos teasingly, those same fingers dipping into that slutty mouth of his, tasting you.
That voice you’ve missed so dearly has your pussy sucking him in deeper, harder. Warm arousal spilling down the entire length of his cock, pooling near the fat of his balls. “Oh my god, you’re s
 so nasty, Toji.”
“Meee?” He gapes incredulously, humor dripping from his tone. “Is it not you that’s fucking Santa Claus in the break room of a shopping mall, sweetheart?”
“Stop, s— stop, don’t call me that!” Both of your hands reach to cover his mouth, fruitlessly attempting to shut him up.
He frowns, pouting against the palm of your hand. “Really?” He muffles, a big hand separates your fingers so that he can speak properly. “I can’t even call you sweetheart now? Not even as fuck you on my cock like this, huh?”
Toji fucks breath after helpless breath out of you; your mouth stupidly gaped as synchronous huffs of air drag from both of your slacked jaws. Every buck of his hips jerking you closer and closer, your parted lips a hair’s breadth away. You can taste his warm, erratic breaths on your tongue, your pants bleeding into one, harmonious rhythm.
“Will you let me kiss you at least?” He all but pleads, chasing your fleeting lips. “Please?”
You can’t help the sigh the drags from your lips, eyes rolling dramatically, yet still, you’re dropping your head to catch his lips in a desperate and haphazard kiss. He tastes the same, like a bitter honey you could never forget. He even kisses the same, still rough and breathless and intentional and sloppy. As if you’re his last, fleeting breath and merely pulling away is a wish of death.
Toji swallows all of your pretty wails of pleasure, tonguing his own, pretty boy moans into your mouth in tandem. He pants breathlessly against your lips between his sloppy kisses. Low, wanton grunts pour from his raptured tongue, willfully spilling against yours. You possess half the brain to notice the heavy digit that’s thumbing your aching clit. You’re reaching a desperate hand between your legs in a fruitless attempt to bat him away.
With a disapproving shake of his head, he’s pushing your hand away. “If you cum like I know you’re about to — fuuuuck, you owe me.” He mutters, a steady hand jerking you further onto his cock. “You hear me? You owe me an apology for lying and a proper I miss you.”
Frantically, you shake your head. “Mmm’not gon
 gonna cum for y-you.” You lie, stomach caving in your crescendoing arousal.
“Don’t lie, I know you want to, sweet girl. I can feel it.” His thumb glides over your clit again and again and again, a helpless slew of drunken whimpers tumbling past your gaped mouth. “C’monnnn pretty, cum all over my cock like you used to
 make a mess on it, c’mon.”
His lips curl into a gut wrenching snarl as your brows knit, your pretty eyes threatening to roll toward the back of your head. That poor, swollen clit twitches beneath the pad of his finger, wordlessly warning him of your impending orgasm. Your sloppy cunt tightens around the fat cock that impales you, but it’s the thumb that’s parting your lips, sinking inside of your warm, obedient mouth that has you pathetically tumbling over the edge.
“God, I’m s
 sorry,” you gasp desperately, sucking down on his thumb as your hips buck to meet his heavy thrusts, “I’m so sorry, baby. I missed youuu
 missed your cock
 missed the way you make me feel, m’sorryyy.” But it’s completely incoherent, your pretty, quivering speech drunken and slurred.
He laughs. It’s a dark, breathy chuckle and it’s parting his lips in an inebriated smile, teeth bared. “Yeaaah? You sorry, baby?” The subtle lilt of enthusiasm that adorns his tone makes your head spin.
Dumbly you nod, humming sweetly, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. Warm arousal seeps from your cunt, pooling in a rich, creamy layer at the base of his cock. The fat of his balls achingly swollen and gleaming, begging for release. Sticky gossamers of ungodly arousal tether you as one, stretching and snapping between the heat of your sexes.
“If you really miss me,” he pants, his wet lips creeping along your throat, “you’ll let me cum in that pretty pussy like old times, hm?”
“Toji.” You warn.
“Please? Be a good girl for Santa, come on,” his lips are on yours again, two large hands reaching for the sides of your face, dragging you closer, “please?” It’s muttered into your mouth and you swallow his prayer. “Pleasepleaseplease?” Another sloppy kiss to the shell of your ear. “For Santa?”
What’s left of your dwindling resolve is dripping from your sweet tongue in a beautiful, helpless whine. Again, you’re caving with barely any give. Your frantic nod of approval makes his cock twitch. It jerks against the walls of your tensing cunt, warning you. His sounds are whorish and guttural, groan after willful groan spilling past his lips, heavy hips steady and unrelenting beneath you while he tugs you down, down, down.
He’s a sight for the sorest of eyes. It’s the slow, delirious loll of his head as it cranes backward, dangling beyond the rear of the couch, red hat falling to the floor. That strong jaw fully pried, dark brows screwed together. Even the stutter of his hips beneath you, jerking haphazardly as he unapologetically stuffs you full. Thick, creamy rivulets of cum spill inside of you, the cadence of his thrusts forcing the amalgamation of arousal all over his velvety crimson pants, staining them.
“God, I’ve missed you.” He all but moans, desperately yanking you closer, slotting his lips against yours in a deep, drunken kiss. “Can I take you out?” It’s a breath between woozy kisses, curious hands trailing up the expanse of your exposed back. “I know you hate me, but I’ve changed, I am changing
 for you”
You sigh. “I don't hate you, but you do have a lot of shit to work on.”
“Help me then.” It’s quiet, genuine. His dark eyes softening.
“Take me out tonight. We’ll talk about it.”
He smiles, heart swelling. “Okay.”
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@fushiguho
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heedeungism · 8 days ago
Text
𝐛𝐼𝐬đČ 𝐰𝐹𝐩𝐚𝐧.
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‱°. *àż PAIRING ― riki nishimura x fem!reader ‱°. *àż SYNOPSIS ― in which riki is smitten with you and your sharp tongue. ‱°. *àż GENRE ― one-shot, friends-to-???, fake dating, angst, fluff, crack, rich kid au, highschool lacrosse au ‱°. *àż WORD COUNT ― 20.9k (yeah, i went kinda crazy) ‱°. *àż CONTENT WARNING(S) ― violence(fighting), cursing, high school, mc has a shitty ex-bf, cheating(not riki obviously), almond grandma(mentioned), a singular cigarette is smoked, mc is shorter than riki, riki can also pick mc up, suggestive jokes, kys jokes, mc has hair (texture and length unspecified, but can be put up), objectification of girls(not riki tho), mc objectifies boys back, dreamy riki, not suggestive or smutty but mc is absolutely a horndog, mc is her own worst enemy, mc using riki to get back at her ex but he likes it, i did not edit this lmao ‱°. *àż EXTRA NOTES ― inspired by euphoria and my hs experience, riki is a loser and a lover, implied that mc is 18, eunseok(riize) is an absolute asshole in this sorry guys i needed a villain, enha are all in the same grade, mc wears makeup and has a manicure of an unspecified length, mc has sick lore, also shoutout to my hg @1ntaks for digitally holding my hand thru this <3 ‱°. *àż SOUNDTRACK ― busy woman by sabrina carpenter, hiss by megan thee stallion, low by sza, i did something bad by taylor swift, without you by lana del rey, agora hills by doja cat, girls like me don’t cry by thuy, only girl (in the world) by rihanna, safety net by ariana grande, snooze by sza
part two ; coming soon
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AT THE BEGINNING OF 2024, you lost for the first time in your life.
Finding your boyfriend of two years making out with a girl you know too well as Lee Nayeon, your best friend, on the Carrara marble countertop of your family home that you had trusted her to take care of for eight days while you were in New York was not on your New Year’s resolution. You had planned to stay to see the Times Square Ball Drop with your mom and stepdad, but you realized you’d prefer to spend it with your boyfriend.
He didn’t seem to share the same sentiment, considering he has his tongue down the traitorous bitch’s throat. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
She screams, both of them startled by your appearance and scrambling off of each other. You feel an urge to slam her face into the precious marble they were defiling, but you stay where you are. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“It isn’t what you think, babe—“
The speed at which Nayeon’s eyes filled with guilty and horrified tears fuels your rage, and behind you, Bahiyyih appears.
“Look who’s back—oh?” She stops beside you, arm hovering to wrap around you until she sees what you’re seeing. “Eunseok? Since when were you back from Stanford?”
“Since he’s been fucking Nayeon, apparently.” 
The barbie-haired girl’s eyes widen, and as she looks between the two she notices the same things you’re painfully aware of. Nayeon’s smeared lip gloss, her tears, Eunseok’s undone jeans, and the sparkly residue on his mouth. “Oh
”
Nayeon’s whimper as she slides off the counter snaps you out of your daze, “You’re crying?” The angry tears forming in your eyes go unshed as you walk closer to her, “You fuck my boyfriend, and you’re fucking crying?”
Anger turns to fury when the boy in question gets between you and her, pleading to let him explain, his hand grabbing your elbow to pull you away, only for you to jerk away, “Okay, I won’t touch you, just let me explain—“
“How long?”
“What? Babe, this isn’t-“
“How long have you been fucking him?” Your question is directed at who you thought was your friend, who avoids looking at you as she silently weeps. Scoffing, you realize you won't get a straight answer and choose to reel in your urge to beat her face in with one of your stepdad's bowling trophies that’s on display a few steps away. “Get out.”
“Babe, let me—“
The attempts at holding in your temper are lost on you, quickly forgotten as you walk over to the fireplace, grabbing the fire poker hanging up and holding it up. Nayeon lets out a scared, oh my God, while Eunseok tries to calm you down, demanding you put down the weapon. Instead of that, you walk past them, out the front door, ignoring Bahiyyih’s, “No, no, no—”
Eunseok’s red Mustang sits prettily in the driveway, and you can hear him realizing what you intend to do, but it’s too late for him. You slam the poker down onto the hood of his car, “Get. Out!”
“You crazy bitch, what is wrong with you?!” He screams, and you find yourself screaming back.
“Take your side piece and get. Out!” You slam the poker down again, and in minutes he’s got Nayeon in the passenger seat and is peeling out of your driveway like it’s on fire.
If rage had a physical human form, you would be it. Clenched jaw, a deadly weapon in your hands, and a white-hot fury in your eyes that promised to make those two regret crossing you.
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The amount of junk food you have consumed in the last week would’ve sent your almond grandmother into an early grave. Your other friends had been visiting as often as possible to keep you from being alone in your thoughts for too long, offering to take you out or go shopping, yet the thought of possibly seeing either of those backstabbing fuckers in public made you sick to your stomach.
Pride didn’t allow you to cry, so instead of sadness and heartbreak, which you definitely felt but would never admit to, you felt pure seething fury.
“So I’ve been thinking,” You take a drag from the cherried slim between your fingers, exhaling towards the sky as you lean against the side of the pool.
From her spot on the lawn chair sunbathing, Belle says. “You can’t kill them.”
“I can, you’re just a party pooper.”
“The party should not include going to prison for murder.” Her statement makes you roll your eyes, “You aren’t built for prison, babe.”
“Well, that I can agree with,” You sigh, the water shifting around you as you turn to face her, arms resting on the edge, “but that wasn’t what I was thinking about.”
Pausing, you take one last drag from your cigarette before smothering it into the stone, “One of the things about him that pissed me off to no end was his temper, right?”
Remembering the many conversations and rants had and heard, Belle nods, “Mhm.”
“So what if I date someone I know will piss him off?”
“If that’s what you think will help you heal, then
” She trails off, and you groan.
“Why can’t you just say it’s an amazing idea?” 
“Girl
” Sighing, she asks, “I just don’t think a third party should be involved.”
“He already got one involved, so why can’t I?” 
Making a face that screams, well you’ve got a point, Belle then adds, “I think you should find someone who pisses him off but they should be aware of your plans. Don’t lead someone on.”
A cunning smile grows on your glossy lips, “I’m not.”
“Oh, so you already have someone in mind?” She gathers with a growing smile of disbelief, “Please tell me it isn’t one of his frat brothers.”
You grimace at the thought, “Ew, no. The only one of them remotely dateable is Wonbin and that’s meeting the bare minimum standards.”
Shrugging, Belle offers, “At least they're hot?”
“Hot does not equal dateable, plus I hardly believe any of them would date their friend’s ex anyway.” Shaking your head, you push yourself out of the pool and sit on the ledge to let yourself drip dry, “What about one of the lacrosse guys?”
“You say no to a frat boy but not a lacrosse player?” 
“I know, I know, but at least I have eyes on them instead of hoping they're being loyal in another city.” You put a hand above your eyes to block out the sun, “Me knowing the coach kind of helps, no?”
“If loyalty is your goal then good luck, bitch.” Belle snorts, sipping from the pink bendy straw sticking out of her Dr Pepper bottle, “Lacrosse players are mansluts.”
“I know that, but
” You push yourself to stand, grabbing the towel Belle holds out when she hears the sound of your feet leaving the water, her eyes still closed and covered by a pair of Prada sunglasses, “I have a few options.”
“The only, as you put it, ‘remotely dateable’-“ she emphasizes those two words with quotations using her perfectly manicured fingers, “-lacrosse players are Jay and Sunoo. Jay is taken and Sunoo friendzones every apretty girl he meets.”
“I don’t know, Jungwon’s cute.” You think aloud, placing a hand on your hip, “He’s just a tight ass.”
“And therefore undateable.” She finishes for you. “What about the baseball team?”
“Eunseok plays, I’m trying to not be reminded of him.”
Belle hums in acknowledgment, “Let me look at the Lacrosse team's insta.”
You pull the claw clip out of your hair as you wait, patting your body dry until she holds out her phone for you to look at. Taking it with your dry hand, you examine the team photo.
You recognize the majority of them, rolling your eyes at a few familiar ones before your eyes land on one particular member of the team you don’t recognize. “Who’s number 10?”
Handing it back, you walk over to the oversized Hall & Oates shirt you’d stolen from your brother’s room(he left a lot of his clothes when he moved out, something about ‘finding his style). You hear the tap of her nails on the screen a few times before she answers, “Some guy named Niki? Or Riki? He doesn’t have any posts on his profile but in the photos he’s tagged in he’s called either of those names.” She gasps, a cackle escaping her lips, “Some of these are his mom tagging him in baby photos, please come look!”
Leaning over, you peek at her screen, “Oh my god, I would die.” You can’t help but giggle as she scrolls, this woman’s Instagram is a gold mine of childhood photos of this guy. “Okay, I feel weird looking at his baby photos, show me the other ones he’s tagged in.”
“On it.” Belle affirms, “Let’s go inside, too.”
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“Okay, so-“ Belle stands before a whiteboard, one that your stepdad used to use before upgrading his office to have a massive one mounted on the wall, a pink dry-erase marker uncapped in her hands as she looks down at her phone for reference. After a quick text to the group chat, a brief summary of your plan was explained when everyone got to your house, and it seemed that everyone was invested. “-are we all in attendance.”
Jongseob is eating cereal in the white tufted chair in the corner of your room, Eunchae is in the bean bag, and Bahiyyih is on the floor between them, lined up like a good audience. 
“We’re making a pros and cons list for Riki Nishimura,” Belle announces, writing his name on the whiteboard as ‘Niki’ between the two names, “feel free to interject when you have a pro or con to list.”
“Con,” Jongseob raises a finger with his mouth half full, swallowing before saying, “His nickname is stupid.”
“Opinions don’t count, stupid.” Eunchae rolls her eyes, earning the finger from the boy in the chair.
“But like, why is his nickname Niki?” Hiyyih asks, and Jongseon lets out a nearly intelligible ‘thank you!’.
“I assume it’s because there's another Riki on the team,” Belle guesses, and the three nod. You sip the Baja freeze you’d had them pick you up on the way to your house and hum.
“Make an ‘unsure’ column,” you instruct, and she does so, writing ‘nickname kinda dumb’ under it.
“Pro, he’s on the Lacrosse team so he’s fit,” Belle starts, writing it on the board under its labeled column.
“Con, he’s on the lacrosse team.”
A chorus of agreement accompanies it to its column.
“Pro, from the photos he’s tagged in and the team photo, he’s at least 6’.” Eunchae adds, Belle nods and writes ‘tall’.
“How can you tell?” Jongseob asks, and she rolls her eyes like his question is the most idiotic thing she’s ever heard.
“Because I pass Heeseung in the halls from 5th to 6th period and in these photos, this guy looks a little taller than him.” She explains, and you hold a hand up when Jongseob opens his mouth to insult her.
“Con, no instagram posts.”
“Pro, I just found a pic from Jake’s insta and I can see him in the back. He’s got abs.” (Thank you, Bahiyyih.)
By the time the sun has set, the whiteboard is packed, the pros heavily outweighing the cons. You had even searched the large group chat you were added into on Snap in freshman year full of girls you barely know who dated around and kept each other informed, and found his name zero times. 
“I think he’s the one.” You sigh.
Jongseob snorts, pulling the cherry soda vape from his lips and asking, “Why do you think Eunseok will hate him?”
“He hates Lacrosse guys ‘cause he didn’t make the team, I figured it would hit a soft spot.” You smile and shrug.
“Hold on, the plot thickens,” Bahiiyih announces, eyes on her phone screen. “Do you guys remember that guy Nayeon had a crush on in freshman year?”
A chorus of confirmation causes her to grin, “I’m pretty sure it was this guy.”
You push yourself off your bed to peek over her shoulder at record speed, “No fucking way. How do you know?”
“I backread in the group chat, and she sent a picture of him, look!” She turns her phone for everyone to see, and from the slightly blurry and oddly angled photo that she obviously tried to take secretly, you can certainly see a resemblance, “Am I hallucinating, or is that him?”
“No that definitely looks like him,” Belle agrees, turning her head to face you with her jaw slack and a look, “He’s the one.”
“How are we gonna convince him to fake date you, though?” Jongseob asks, and you roll your eyes.
“Leave the planning to those qualified, Seob.”
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You, all things considered, would call yourself a professional at annoying men. From years of experience before your brother moved out, you learned every which way to annoy him, and more importantly, boys in general. You are also smart enough to understand that his best friend, Jungkook, is your ticket to getting closer to the lacrosse team, aka Riki, even if you have to deal with Jake’s flirting and Heeseung’s annoyingly beautiful smile, you will get through it purely out of spite. 
When you get to school extra early the day before the semester is set to start, parking your car and turning your sights to where you knew he took the team to practice in the mornings, and where you knew he would be even if he and your parents got back from New York just last night. “A hoe never gets cold.” You mumble the chant to yourself over and over as you turn off your car’s engine and the warm air stops blowing. 
You curse rather loudly when you open your door and are met with a frigid breeze that makes your body clench to preserve its warmth. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
With your school bag on your shoulder and a thick white puffy jacket lined with fleece that keeps your torso warm, you speed walk toward the field, which the student parking lot happens to be in relative close proximity to. 
The sight of you approaching is enough to stop a good half of the players in their laps around the field, a typical start to Jungkook’s diabolical training regimen. The distraction you pose catches the man of the hour’s attention, and when he turns to face the source, he seems shockingly displeased. With a barked order to keep running thrown at the stopped players, he turns to you again and asks, “What are you doing here?”
Your lips part in dramatic offense, “You seem unhappy to see me and I don’t appreciate it.”
Rolling his eyes and pulling two hotpacks from his bag on the ground and handing them to you, he repeats, “What are you doing at school so early?”
Shrugging, you shove your hands into your jacket pockets and glance at the team, catching the eye of Sunoo and winking as he passes by. “I’m bored and single. What better way to spend my time than watching lacrosse players train in frozen hell?”
Jungkook’s face tells you he’s far less than impressed, and he seems at a loss for words. You decide to let him in on your plan, not seeing any harm in doing so.
“Okay, I’m trying to ruin Eunseok's day, every day, by reminding him I have a hotter, taller, and more athletically skilled boyfriend than he ever was or could be,” You start, “And I’m calling in a favor.”
“What favor? You don’t do shit—“
“Okay then, tell me more about him or I’ll tell my brother about what really happened to his Audi last Christmas.” The Audi in question had a large scuff on the back bumper that Jungkook had paid you three hundred dollars to take the blame for, which while your brother was upset, you knew he’d be far angrier if he knew the truth. Jungkook knew that too.
If the cold wasn’t already doing the job, you would say he lost all color in his face. A sweet smile forms on your lips, and you take the moment of his speechless horror to take another glance at the team. 
When you meet the eyes of the familiar boy in a dark red hoodie with the number 10 on it you feel your face warm up involuntarily. Instinctively, you swallow the nervous lump in your throat, something that’s never happened to you, and quickly turn back to the coach (not before catching sight of the slight tug at the corner of #10’s plump lips). “So?”
Jungkook sighs, “Which one?”
“Number 10.”
Immediately, the man shakes his head, “Nuh-uh.” At the raise of one of your eyebrows, he quickly explains, “He’s one of my best players, I don’t need him being distracted by my best friend’s kid sister.”
You roll your eyes, “If you have a better option for me, then please, do share.”
“What about Jungwon?” 
“Tight ass,” You say barely a breath later, eyes watching said player jog past, lingering on his backside as he moves away, “In more ways than one.”
“Okay, stop.” Jungkook says, disgust on his face, “What about Taehyun.”
“He’s Dr. Evil and Jungwon is his mini-me, they’re both so strict they’d never agree.”
He makes a face, point heard, before suggesting one last player in a last-ditch effort, “Jak—”
“If the name Jake Sim leaves your mouth I’m setting your Mercedes on fire.” 
His mouth shuts automatically, and he sighs. 
“So, tell me about him.”
“Why don’t you go ask?”
You give him a look that read, don’t be fucking stupid.
“Ugh, fine. What do you wanna know?” Jungkook caves, blowing the whistle around his neck, signaling the team to start the next warmup, pushups. 
“What’s his favorite color?” You ask, obviously pulling his leg considering the grin on your face.
“Nishimura!” He immediately calls, and number 10 looks up from his position on the ground. You don’t look longer than a moment, your spine straightening up automatically when his eyes meet yours once again, “What’s your favorite color?”
You don’t look, but you can bet money that he probably looks confused considering your brother’s best friend tells him to ‘just answer the damn question’, and then you hear his voice. 
“Black.”
Fuck, this is bad. The little shit in you wants to say that black isn’t technically a color, that it’s the absence of such, but the thought of looking at him and saying something like that makes your palms go clammy and your heart beat out of your chest. His voice is deep, and with the exertion in it from the warmup, you think you might just have to throw yourself into an active volcano.
“Mine is green, coach!” 
“I didn’t ask, Huening.” Your lips flatten, your hand flying to cover your mouth as you try not to giggle. Instinctively, you look at Kai, whose ears have gone red in embarrassment, and you take pity.
“I like green too, Kai.” You say loudly for him to hear, and his head perks up to look at you.
“I like blue!” Jake pipes in, all too eager to include himself.
“Nobody asked, Jake.” Jay grunts, on his hundredth push-up and losing patience.
Jungkook blows the whistle again, “Burpees.”
“You’re a monster.” You muse, watching the team lose all faith in a heavenly being as they do what he says. Every jump grants you the sight of rock-hard abs, so you're not really complaining. 
“Stop ogling the team, it’s gross.” Jungkook hisses, “What else do you want to know?”
“Girlfriend?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Type?”
He makes a face, “I don’t know. He’s a teenager, probably anything that breathes in his direction.” 
“Age?”
“Turned 18 in December, the team threw him a pizza party.”
“Beginning or end of December?” You ask quizzically.
Rolling his eyes, Jungkook huffs, “Why does it matter?”
“I need to know if I’m dealing with a Sagittarius or a Capricorn. Please, please, tell me he isn’t a Capricorn.”
“Jesus Christ
” Thinking about it, Jungkook answers, “I think it was in the first week?”
A sigh of relief leaves you, “Thank god. I cannot stand an earth sign.”
“I’m an earth sign.” 
“And it took me ages to forgive you for that.”
“Okay, go away.” Jungkook shakes his head, obviously annoyed and desperate to get rid of you.
“But I’m not—“
“Nishimura.” Dread fills you, and before you can stop him from opening his mouth again, number 10 stands up.
“Yeah, Coach?”
“Walk this one to her car.”
Confusion is etched on his pretty face, but he nods, jogging over as you curse at Jungkook quietly enough for him and the lord to hear but not the approaching lacrosse player.
When he stands just a few feet away, waiting for you to start walking with him, you turn to face him and feel a jolt in your stomach. He’s tall. 
You already knew this but seeing it with your eyes is a different experience than seeing photos of it. Get a grip, bitch.
Offering him a condescending smile, a defense mechanism to keep yourself from humiliating yourself by showing how affected you are, you shoot your brother’s friend the finger and begin to make your way off the field.
You pass Riki, not even sparing him a look as you do so, but listening to make sure he’s following. With his much longer legs, it isn’t long before he’s walking just slightly behind you, not at your side but close enough for you to sense his presence. When you make it to your car in what felt like awkward silence to you but was probably nothing to him, you heave a sigh of relief when she unlocks and you open the door. 
Not sitting yourself inside yet, despite the cold and the fact your body hurts from it, you turn to face him.
“This yours?” He asks. God, that voice again.
You hum in confirmation, “Her name is Manon.” 
“Nice name.” He compliments, and you tilt your head, looking between his eyes and glancing down to his mouth every so often. He swallows almost unnoticeably, “What’s yours?”
Resisting the urge to ask if he truly didn’t know, you conclude that would sound far too conceited, and tell him your name. 
He tries it out, and you can see the tip of his tongue flick across his teeth before he says, “I’m Riki.”
“I know.” You say shamelessly, “You can go back to practice, now.”
If you didn’t know any better, you would think the slight smirk that tugs at his lips is of annoyance, but with the way his eyes look down your face every other second, you know exactly what you’re doing. He blinks, turning his body slightly to walk away, “Yeah.”
You wait until his back is to you to slide into your driver’s seat, quickly pulling your phone out to text the group chat.
bitchqueen: guys this is bad
bitchqueen: he’s HOT
bitchqueen: i can’t do this 
Glancing back up to see if Riki left, you sigh in relief when he’s nowhere to be found. You look back down when your phone dings. bellenotdelphine: eunseok bought nayeon a van cleef bracelet
bitchqueen: okay bitches im back
myrootcame2005: ur resolve inspires generations
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Going back to school wasn’t so bad, or at least it isn’t as bad you thought it would be. You were the only licensed driver in your friend group, and as such you expected to have a full car every morning, picking up Belle first as she lived down the street, and then Jongseob and Eunchae, who grew up neighbors in a neighborhood you pass on the way to school. Bahiyyih usually gets a ride with her brother, though she does complain his truck still smells like the musky car freshener he spilled back when he got it.
After parking and putting on your shoes that you’d taken off because you hate driving with them on, you had Belle hand you your backpack from at her feet and the four of you exited the car into the frigid weather. “Jesus fuck, why is it so cold?”
Belle huddled by you as you sped walked to the school doors, where you finally took notice of the stares directed your way. Ignoring the staring was the easy part, having a freshman walk up to you and ask, “Hey, is it true you destroyed your boyfriend’s car with a crowbar?” was hard to avoid.
Belle seems ready to tell them to fuck off but you smile sweetly, “It was a fire poker, actually, and destroyed is a strong word. Also, who the fuck are you?”
You got in enough trouble with your parents when they found out, these people could at least get the facts right. When the 14 year old boy opens his mouth to answer, you make a face, “I don’t actually care.”
Ignoring that encounter, you would say it was a relatively normal day. AP classes already gave you packets and mounds of homework, but with the semester classes you took last year you only had 5 periods of the day before being allowed to go home, perks of being a senior, you guess. The fact almost every class you had was an AP class was a definite downside, though.
The only AP class you didn’t have happened to be Medical Microbiology, which you had dreaded to take but it was the same teacher you had last semester for A&P who loved you enough to exempt you from the final without you having to submit the form like everyone else, and luck was on your side it seemed because while you were seething to find that Nayeon was in your 5th period class, the sight of the seating chart and the name labeled next to yours made you decide to postpone ingesting whatever deadly chemical Mrs. Wilson had in her locked cabinet.
Nishimura, Riki
The short curly-haired woman seemed overjoyed to see you, of course, and like clockwork you handed her a small pink box containing her favored cookie from the shop down the road, earning yourself a nice sidehug. 
You know a way to a teacher's heart, which had made your high school experience better than most could imagine, though Mrs. Brooks from Pre-AP English freshman year was a cunt and you gave up on making her like you within the first month. Sitting down at your seat, which happened to be somewhat close to her desk, you were looking down at the packet she’d left stacked on the table by the door for students to take from as they came in when you felt a tap on your shoulder.
Growing up with a brother gave you a good understanding of how boys worked, and when you saw no one in your periphery, you looked to the opposite side, seeing the familiar lacrosse player. You dread small talk, though when the late bell rings as he sits down, you thank the heavens you don’t have to. 
Moving your hair off your shoulder, you took a pink mechanical pencil from your matching pencil case as Mrs. Wilson started speaking.
“Hey.” He leans ever so closer, whispering to get your attention, “Can I borrow a pencil?”
The raised eyebrow you send his way makes his raise his own, and you roll your eyes, grabbing one of the orange ones you never used and handing it to him, when you notice his look between the two pencils, you say, “Can’t risk you taking one of my good ones.”
He rolls his eyes this time, but starts writing his name with it anyway. At first, he uses his right hand, but ten minutes into the lecture about the staining process, he switches hands.
It isn’t annoying until he starts intentionally brushing your elbow with his own, and you know it’s intentional because when the word you’re writing comes out jagged and you look at him, he has a smug look on his face while avoiding meeting your eyes, snickering softly when you erase the word you deemed too ugly to continue writing. You turn in your seat, facing away from him and rotating your paper with you as you cross one leg over the other, it was easier writing this way anyway.
With your new angle, you can see Nayeon glancing over every now and then in the corner of your eye. 
Now, to say your reputation wasn’t ruined but in fact reinforced by everyone finding out about what you did to Eunseok’s car, was a factual statement. You didn’t like the term ‘anger management issues’ which is what the therapist your mother made you see last year used to describe your behavior. 
In your humble opinion, Jaclyn Delvacchio deserved the bruise you left on her brow bone and is honestly lucky you didn’t get a good enough hit in before the history teacher pulled you off of her, maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut about Eunchae’s braces.
Then, there was Kaley Graham in your freshman year, a sophomore who told you to stay away from your then-situationship, Eunseok, to which you responded to her threats by grabbing her head and slamming her face into the window of an active classroom. You thought the photos of her face smashed against it were funny, the school and your suddenly-present father did not.
So really, you’re already labeled a crazy bitch, violent, ‘untameable’(as you'd heard uttered by boys you wouldn't touch with a twenty foot pole). You might as well act like it.
When the bell rings 45 minutes later, you breathe a sigh of relief, finally time to go home.
You don’t notice he’s waiting for you until you’ve gathered your things and taken your keys out. He leans against his desk, waiting for you with observant eyes that land on the key-fob in your hand before moving up to your eyes. “Free period?”
You nod, “as are the next two.”
He whistles low as the both of you walk out, “I didn’t get any free periods, you’re lucky.”
“Lacrosse?” You ask, and he nods with a small grimace.
“And I failed Chem last year, so I’ve got to take it again.” He sighs, “I’m not great with all the math.”
“AP?” You ask innocently, and he snorts.
“God no. Regular.” He states, raising a brow as he adds, “Did you take AP?”
You hum, nodding, “Yeah.”
“So, if I come to you with a radiation equation, would you help me?” He asks in a way that almost feels teasing.
“It’s called a nuclear equation, and I suppose I could be persuaded.” You stop in front of the double doors at the front of the school, and from how others are rushing through the halls you assume the bell is going to ring soon.
“Could I try to persuade you after lacrosse practice? I’m gonna be late for Chem.” He says, though his tone is anything but worried, just like the smirk on his face.
“There’s a cafe next to the nail salon down the road, I might be there when lacrosse practice is over.” You hint, before turning to leave without another word.
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After texting the group chat about the plan to meet up with Riki after his practice ends, you felt good. Flirting came easy, especially when you wanted something, which obviously was the case with him, but you weren’t oblivious to the fact he was flirting back. 
hueningbarbie: damn u act fast
bitchqueen: i'm just a girl who knows what she wants and gets it ;)
hongchae: do you think he’ll agree?
bitchqueen: if he doesnt i think jake is my only other option
bitchqueen: killing myself means i let them win
bellenotdelphine: jake is NEVER the only option
bellenotdelphine: hang in there queen
You sit in a worn out booth facing the big wall of windows lining the front of the hole-in-the-wall cafe. Part of you regrets choosing it considering Gloria, the old lady who always takes your order and brings you your food, seemed all too excited when you said you were waiting for a boy that wasn’t Eunseok. 
You try not to look up every time you see a car pull into the strip center of cafes and food joints, only glancing when you see a black Jeep pull into the parking spot next to your car, quickly acting like you weren’t looking when the familiar lacrosse player hopped out of it with wet hair and the same sweatshirt with his jersey number and name on it.
It isn’t until he slides into the booth across from yours that you look up from the menu you weren’t even reading, “How was practice?”
He sighs, leaning back into the booth and you feel his shoe brush yours, “Coach had me on offense,” he says, rubbing his side with a wince.
“Want some tiger balm?” You ask nonchalantly, reaching into your purse to pull out the small container of it you keep to help with the pain you get from looking down and taking notes, not to mention scrolling through social media, too.
He takes it with a whispered please, and you try not to watch as he moves his hand under his shirt to rub it in. Bahiyyih was right.
“Any drinks, mija?” Gloria appears beside your booth with a knowing look on her face as she looks between you two, “and you?”
“Dr Pepper, please.” You order with a smile, and she affectionately rubs your arm with a nod before looking at Riki, who repeats you.
When Gloria walks away to get the drinks, Riki seems curious, “I come here a lot.”
Nodding, he says, “I figured. What’s good, here?”
“Oh, everything is good. Do you recognize anything on the menu?” When he shakes his head, you try not to act offended, and say, “The enchiladas are really good, but if you’re picky I would get the tacos.”
“Mm, I’ll get an enchi-“ he struggles to mimic your pronunciation of the word, and you laugh quietly.
“Enchiladas?” You ask with a cheeky smile, and he scrunches his face up in shame, “It’s okay, it’s hard to say.”
“You’re good at it.” He states, not an opinion, a fact.
“I am.” You agree, and the smile on his face is enough to send your heart into your throat. Get. A. Grip. “Like I said, I come here a lot.”
“So, what do I have to do to persuade you to help me pass Chem?” He asks after Gloria sets down your drinks and takes your orders(sending you a hidden wink as she turns to walk into the kitchen), and you realize now's the time to bring up your plan.
“So, I actually have a proposition for you.” You admit, and he leans forward a little, curious to hear it. When you say it, albeit a slow and awkward version of what you intended to say as the nerves got the better of you because of that damn look in his eyes, you swear you almost see his face drop a little. 
“So you want to
fake date? To make your ex jealous.” He sounds unsure, and you quickly shake your head.
“Not jealous, I kinda just want to ruin his day...everyday.” You state, “I’m the crazy bitch, you’re the hot athlete. Match made in heaven, right?”
He seems to take the ‘hot’ comment well, crossing his arms and tilting his head, “So, what are the rules? If we’re dating, do we have to go all out or just spread the word?”
“Spreading the word only works for so long,” you say, pleased by his question, “Kissing is a bit much, especially since it’s only been a few weeks since I dumped him. If we move too fast everyone will think you’re my rebound. We should take it slow.”
“So
” he thinks for a second, “Holding hands?”
You hum in agreement, “Get me flowers, too.”
“What’s your favorite kind?” The question shouldn’t throw you off, but it hits you rather suddenly that you’d never been asked that by a guy, especially not Eunseok. 
“Lilies.” You say, “And baby’s breath.”
He nods, taking a mental note of that just as Gloria comes out with your food. The enchiladas were a win, he devoured them like he hadn’t eaten for years, though there was a pause in the process when he insisted on trying the salsa you had poured generously over your own food, which was far too spicy for him, to your delight.
You exchanged numbers outside of the restaurant after paying(he had picked up the bill before you could grab it), and as you were putting a name to his number, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
Laughing at the look on your face, he subtly motions behind you, and when you glance back you find about five girls no older than 16 piled into a Corolla and staring, but snapping their eyes away and hiding when you meet their gazes.
Turning back to him, you swallow the sudden lump in your throat when you see he’s already looking at you.
“Good catch.” You cough, ignoring the smug smirk growing in his face, “I’ll text you.”
“Okay.” He says, waiting for you to move away before he does, and you find yourself sucking in a deep breath and turning to get into your car.
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“So he agreed?” Belle asks from the passenger seat of your car, “I told you, teenage boys are easy.”
You pull into your parking spot in the school lot, pulling down the ugly parking pass they make you hang from the rearview mirror that you always tuck back up when you leave because it's an eyesore, “We tried to work out the technicalities last night but I fell asleep on the phone.” 
Eunchae gasps as if scandalized, “You fell asleep on the phone with him? That’s so cute.”
You groan, “I know, it’s embarrassing!” Getting out of your car, you try to withhold a groan when you immediately spot Jake practically skipping over, a cheeky grin on his face. Shit.
You don’t hide your displeasure when he calls your name, shooting a giggling Belle the finger before turning to give him attention you know you’d regret, “You and Niki?”
ïżœïżœIs that any of your business?” 
He starts giggling, the grin on his face widening as he starts hopping around like an excited puppy, “No way! You gotta tell me how he fi—“
“Jake!” A girl from the cheer squad calls his name from across the courtyard, and he whirls around to wave with a flirty smile.
By the time he turns back to you, you’re already walking away with the girls. “We’re talking about it in 2nd!”
“No we’re not!” You call back, waving your hand dismissively. Eunchae snorts, hooking her arm with yours as the three of you walk through the entrance. Jongseob had come in early with his other friend group for club prep, so his presence is sorely missed. 
“Do you think he’ll get you flowers?” The junior on your arm asks, and you shrug.
“I mean, maybe.” Your answer makes Belle roll her eyes.
“Manifest it, or
” She stops in front of your 1st class of the day, ready to drop you off, and a grin overtakes her face, “Bitch.”
You step closer to see when she sees, and at your assigned seat is a bouquet of the same flowers you told Riki you liked, pink and white lilies with baby's breath sprinkled in. Habitually, you bite your lip to withhold the smile, sliding your arm out from Eunchae’s and walking in.
The girl who sits next to you, Hikaru, has an almost fox-like grin on her face as she sees you finally arrive. She says a few things that you hum in response to as you pluck the tiny folded card from between the blossoms, opening it and allowing Belle and Eunchae to peek over your shoulder to read it with you. “Shut up!” Belle practically squeals.
For: Pretty
“God.” You sigh, closing the note and grabbing the bouquet from Eunchae who had picked it up to smell them, “I wonder where he got these.”
“I don’t know but they look expensive.” Belle muses with a grin and you hum in agreement with a smile.
A text tone dings from your phone, a familiar one that makes you groan. When you look at your screen your jaw clenches and shifts.
spermdonor: lunch? we need to catch up.
You suspect your mom told him about how you get off early now, cursing the woman mentally as you send back a simple thumbs up to her ex-husband. 
Between 1st and 2nd period, you had put the bouquet in your car to avoid walking around with it, and you’re so very thankful you did with the annoying grin on Jake’s face as you sat across from him in College Algebra.
“You and Niki.” He repeats with a cheeky raise of his brows, his grin unaffected by the look of utter distaste on your face at his presence.
“What about Riki and me?” You ask monotonously, clearly unimpressed with the prompt.  
“You guys datin’?” He asks cheekily, clearly already aware that you went on a ‘date’, but wanting to hear it from you.
“If I say we went on a singular date will you leave me alone?” You ask with a sigh, using your knuckle to massage your temple.
Jake shakes his head with a shit-eating grin, “Not a chance.”
You groan softly as the bell rings, and the sigh of relief is quickly smothered with your hopes of escaping this period without having to answer a question as a familiar substitute walks in, Mr. Morrell, a nice old man who usually just lets everyone do their own thing. He’s your mortal enemy now, you’ve decided.
The moment he announces those wretched words, ‘free day’, your fate is sealed.
Jake is snickering like a freak, leaning over his desk as if you aren’t just a few feet away from him, “You and Riki.” He giggles, and you look at him as if he’s possessed and it disgusts you.
“Please, leave me alone.” You say with a bit more emotion than your last few words.
Jake is too busy giggling like a little girl to listen or even hear what you said, nearly cutting you off as he asks, “Where was your first date?” 
“The Mexican place next to the nail salon down the street.” You answer monotonously, just wanting to get it over with at this point.
“Did he pay? He paid.” Jake asks then nods to himself as he says the last statement.
“Yes, he paid.” 
“Ooo, did he kiss you? Nah, Niki’s way too pussy to do that—“
You cut him off with an invisible twitch of your brow, “He gave me a solid kiss on the cheek.”
It’s as if you’ve broken the already clearly leaking dam of pure giddy delight. He’s practically squealing with a breathy and high-pitched ‘naur way~’, whipping out his phone you assume to text their group chat. He’s bouncing in his seat, and you make a face as you pull your desk an inch away from his desk to stop feeling the movements.
You open your coloring book you bring with you to classes when you have no other work, you have other work but you’d rather not do that while Jake giggles and grills you.
The rest of the period is filled with him asking questions you either answer shortly or choose to not answer at all. (“Do you think he’s the one?”)
You of course could not see was that across the campus Riki was hiding his phone in his lap wanting to sink into a hole and die as Jake spams the team group chat like a live tweet of his, though strongly condemned by him, weirdly thorough interview like your barely started kind-of-relationship is his favorite sitcom.
“Thank you, lord.” you sigh as the bell rings, freeing you of your torment as you grab your gathered and organized bag to pull over your shoulder and hasten out of the classroom before Jake can get you. (Yes, like a boogeyman.)
It seems you can’t catch a break as you find out Park Sunghoon is in your 4th period. Park Sunghoon, jersey number 23, goalkeeper of the Decelis Demons. Also, you’ve decided, another mortal enemy. 
You don’t even know how you hadn’t noticed him all semester or the semester prior, given how awkwardly talkative he is. Sitting beside you with a cute but unsettling smile, holding out his hand like he was meeting a celebrity, which you weren’t exactly complaining about but the smile was weird. He was almost just as bad as Jake, if not worse simply because he freaked you out a bit. Seriously, why is someone so beautiful so fucking weird. His moles look like constellations but something about his vibes unsettle you.
It isn’t like you don’t have weird friends, you’ve watched Jongseob stuff fifty chile-coated gushers into his mouth purely because Eunchae told him he couldn’t. Weird usually isn’t the issue, except it is in this scenario. 
Escaping him and getting to go to your teacher’s aid period was like a shining of heaven’s pure light on you. You find yourself grading papers in the back of the classroom while your freshman-year Latin teacher plays Hercules in New York on the projector, a purple glitter pen in your hand as you go through the stack of exams.
“Hey,” one of the freshmen a cluster of desks away calls to you in a semi-hushed voice, halting the movement of your glitter pen and directing your attention to them, “your boyfriend’s waiting at the door.”
‘I don’t have a boyfriend’, parts your lips before you suddenly remember that Riki exists and halt before it can leave them. Looking to the closed door of the classroom, you find the boy in question peering through the small window in the door, and raise an inquisitive brow.
He only waves at you, a clear signal he wants you to come out and talk to him, part of you wonders why he knew where you were but memories of the phone call the night you both agreed on the whole ‘fake dating’ thing, exchanging school schedules and discussing preferences, come back to you and you nod lightly.
Mrs. B looks up from her laptop as you cap the glitter pen, “Don’t be gone too long.” 
Shooting her a smile and a small ‘yes ma’am, thank you’, you get up from the desk and shoot the snickering freshmen a weak glare as you walk to the door, opening it just enough to side step out of the room and shut it behind you.
“Hey.” is the first thing he says, his voice is deep despite its softness, mindful of the other classes going on in the language hall as well as the other teens clearly trying to get a good look at him as the door closes behind you.
You say it back just as softly, “Hey.”
He smiles just a bit, a boyish quirk of his lips that has your heart picking up, get a fucking grip, bitch. “I’m sorry about Jake and Sunghoon.”
The mention of them has you pressing your lips together with a nearly-sympathetic smile, “It’s okay.”
“No, they’re
a lot.” He chuckles softly, though his words are still genuine, “I don’t want you to get scared away.”
Something in your heart flutters, “Don’t worry about it.” You say with a soft laugh that has his eyes darting to your smile. “Sunghoon was
weird, but I already knew that Jake’s a pest, so
”
He laughs at your words, head shaking slightly, “Still, I’m sorry about them.”
“It’s fine, really.” You say with a shake of your head. A student exits the Spanish class down the hall, pausing at the sight of you and Riki before walking in the direction of the bathrooms. 
Riki spares them little more than a brief glance over at the sound of the door shutting behind them before his gaze is back on you. God, why is he looking at me like that, you think just before he speaks again, “Do you bowl?”
The question catches you off guard, and you tilt your head and ask, “Like do I know how or do I do it often?”
“Both.”
“Kinda and no.” You answer, “Why?”
He brings a hand up to rub the back of his head, your eyes darting to the way the sleeves of his t-shirt stretch to accommodate the movements of his arm and a few veins are visible up his arm, “Some of the guys and I were going this weekend, I
figured I’d ask.” 
His words are finished with a bit of hesitance that you have little time to linger on as you question with a slight laugh, “Did they ask you to bring me?” 
You see a slight pink tinge to the tips of his ears as his elbow drops yet his hand lingers on his trapezius, creating yet another visual that has you wanting to repeatedly slam your forehead into the wall beside you. He shakes his head slightly, “No, I, uh, wanted to bring you.”
The words are said with a soft laugh like he’s a bit embarrassed with himself, and you find your teeth catching your bottom lip to hold in the despicable grin that you know should not be growing on your face right now. You just broke up with your long-term boyfriend, wake up.
If Riki’s eyes dart to your lips, you don’t see it as you glance to the door of your class. “Then
yeah. I’ll come.” 
Your answer has his lips forming a pretty grin that he quickly covers up with a bite of his bottom lip and a nod, taking a step back as he prepares to leave, “Cool. I can pick you up, yeah?”
Yeah, you can. You nod, “Just text me.”
“Yeah, I’ll text you.” He finishes with another nod, and you giggle softly at his repetition. His eyes soften at the sound, another thing you don’t notice as you see the student returning from the bathrooms, glancing your way every so often as they approach the closed Spanish class door. 
Riki sees them too, and as they look over again, he leans down to press his lips to your cheek in a quick but sweet kiss, “See you next period.”
He shoots you a swift wink as he backs up again, and you put it together that he kissed you because of the third party in the hall. You exhale a soft response as he turns to jog off, clearly not meant to be gone from class as long as he has been, “Yeah.”
As soon as he turns the corner and you’re alone in the hall, you close your eyes for a long blink to bring yourself back to Earth. A soft curse leaves your lips as you turn back to the door to re-enter the Latin class, heart racing and hands slightly clammy. 
Clammy. 
The fact that a boy is making you feel so damn juvenile with the way you can’t help but react to his words and face and voice and eyes—
The walk to 5th period fills you with a sense of dread before you remember who else is in that class. Mrs. Wilson greets you happily as she sets up the activity for the day on the projector, which alerts you to the fact someone is standing by your seat who doesn’t belong there.
Riki has a look of confusion on his face as he looks up at Nayeon, clearly a bit confused by whatever is leaving her lips. The teacher’s greeting alerts the both of them to your presence in the doorway, where you paused at the sight of her. The corners of Riki’s lips quirk up at the sight of you, but Nayeon looks like she’s about to puke.
You don’t even speak. Something about the sight of pure panic in her eyes gives you a boost of serotonin but the fact that she’s standing in front of your ‘boyfriend's desk, speaking to him. Oh, you’re pissed. 
Yes, you are aware he isn’t actually your boyfriend and the two of you hadn’t even discussed publicly referring to each other as such, but the principle still stands. You want to punch her face.
Unfortunately, Mrs Wilson would be quite upset if you slammed Nayeon’s head into the whiteboard, and you like your teacher too much to debate starting a fight in her class. 
Your eyes follow Nayeon’s every move as she hastily removes her hands from where they were on his desk, avoiding your burning stare as she moves to her own seat. 
Walking to your desk, you smile at Riki as if what just happened has zero effect on you despite the burning fury in your gut, and sit down beside him. “Hey.”
Your soft greeting has him saying it in kind, shifting in his seat to lean back and see you better, “You know her?”
His question has you tilting your head in a faux innocence, “Mhm. Why?”
Riki has a slight knowing look on his face as he watches your reactions, “She had a lot to say about you.”
“What did she say?” You ask as if it’s a simple question, like you aren’t dying to know and anxiety isn’t clawing at your chest making it harder and harder to make your hands not shake. 
He shrugs with a purse of his lips, a slightly cheeky smile forms on his face as he asks, “You jealous?”
A scoff leaves your lips and your eyes roll before you can even think to hold the sass back, “Jealousy implies she’s better than me in some way.” You say with a defiant cross of your arms, “and she is not.”
“Then why’d you glare so hard?” He asks, clearly amused by both your words and body language.
You think, why did I not tell him about Nayeon?
The answer? Eunseok and Nayeon’s little affair had more of an effect on you than you would like to admit. Anxiety claws at you everytime you even imagine Nayeon interacting with Riki, and the fact that you just walked in on her saying something to him that your pride won’t allow you to ask him about just makes it all so much worse for you. 
The truth is that the irrational part of your brain, the one that often wins the battles against its more logical other half, made the thought of Riki knowing you were betrayed by your best friend all the more sickening to imagine. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating. 
“I wasn’t glaring.” You argue, and Riki raises his brows as if to say ‘really?’ before he huffs softly in amusement and the bell rings.
“Yeah, you were.” He says with a lingering curiosity in his gaze before he looks to the board as Mrs Wilson starts class. Your first instinct is to argue, to be stubborn like you always are, but the lingering anxiety in your chest makes you want to never speak again just to find some kind of peace.
The entire time you take notes you aren’t truly absorbing any information, your brain is stuck on every possible thing that Nayeon could have said to him and how you’re gonna find out without directly asking either of them if possible.
You feel sick and he’s not even your real boyfriend.
Oh, fuck.
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Between realizing you want Riki and remembering that you have to go to lunch with your father, you simply didn’t have enough time to achieve as much mental preparation as you’d like before lunch. The Italian restaurant you find yourself sitting inside with a menu in your manicured hands is a relatively ‘fancy’ establishment, at least if the $35 fettuccini alfredo was anything to go by.
Your dad is the one paying, so you aren’t all that mad about the prices considering the look in his eyes is enough to ruin your enjoyment of the basket of breadsticks between the two of you. If you thought it would make a dent in his bank account you’d order another plate of mozzarella sticks just to spend his money, but the satisfaction just wouldn’t be there. 
Punching his face might feel better.
“Am I gonna have to put you in anger management again?” His anger is hushed and composed, but the shift in his jaw and the patronizing look of disappointment on his face belied his composure. Always being hyper-aware of how people view him is one of the things you hate about your dad. His attitude takes a higher spot on the ‘Why You Hate Your Dad’ pyramid, though. 
“You can’t ‘put me’ anywhere.” You bite back as you dip the breadstick in your hand into the small bowl of marinara, “Eunseok deserved it.”
“You don’t get to decide what people deserve.” He argues, still so patronizing.
The feeling of being talked down to is one you're all too familiar with when it comes to your father. The man can’t accept his own faults, one of which being how shit of a father he was and is. You roll your eyes as you take a bite of your breadstick, half-drowning his words out with your own and the other half remembering every single thing coming from his lips to throw back in his face next time he cries about how you never reach out to him. 
“Eunseok is a smart and successful, young man. And you throw it all away for—“
Ah, you almost forgot how much more your father likes your ex than you. Offering him internships, a place at his firm when he graduates, none of which he’d ever even mentioned to you. You wouldn’t ever work for or with your father, but the fact he had never spoken a word about any chances to help you gain experience like he did your ex was as infuriating as it was unsurprising.
“I didn’t throw shit away.” You snap, “He cheated on me, you keep skimming over that detail, father.”
“I’m not skimming over it, it’s irrelavent.” He exhales, trying to calm his slightly raised voice, “And you know I hate it when you call me that..”
“Irrelevant? Oh, I’m sorry, should I have stayed with a boyfriend that sleeps with my best friend?” You scoff, sipping your Dr Pepper, “And if you wanted me to call you dad, you should've acted like one.”
“Hey.” He warns, yet you only roll your eyes. “Reaching out goes both ways—“
“I know you did not just say that to me.” 
“—and I am your father, so you speak to me with respect.” He finishes, voice raising slightly in frustration before he settles it back to a more composed volume.
“No.” You shake your head, “That’s not how shit works.”
“Yes,” He bites back sternly, “If you want me to keep funding your life you’ll—“
Normally, you let your father say whatever it is he wants to say, tell him you really don’t care what he thinks and then for about a month he doesn’t text you. Then it’s ‘I want to improve our relationship’ and ‘I feel like you’re drifting away’. Today was not a normal day, however.
“Then cut me off.” You say with a shrug, “You can’t hold that shit over my head like I ask for the money you send, which you only send because you know you’re a shit father and you feel guilty.”
He doesn't respond, his jaw shifting, so you continue. 
“And considering the fact that you are a cheater yourself, why the fuck would I listen to a word you say when it comes to my own love life?” You ask, not really caring that you aren’t exactly speaking quietly, “Eunseok deserved a fire poker to the face, and I used it on his car instead. Which is what Mom should have done when she found you with the nanny.”
“Quiet down, you’re making a scene.” He hisses, and you tilt your head and look around as if you give a single fuck. “I already took care of Eunseok’s car, which will be taken out of your allowance—“
Your eyes narrow at his words, “You paid to repair his car?”
Your father doesn’t skip a beat as he continues, “—Yes, I did. And you don’t get to throw the biggest mistake I’ve ever made back in my face—“
“Yes, I do.”
“—No, you don’t.” 
“Yes, I do.” You argue back stubbornly, continuing before he can speak over you again, “And you paid for Eunseok’s car, the same boy who fucked one of my best friends for months while actively dating me and you don’t see a single problem with that?”
“His parents were discussing pressing charges—“
“That’s when you tell them to go fuck themselves.” 
He sighs at your words, clearly sick of your temper (which you inherited from him), “You need to start handling your emotions better, you’re graduating this year.”
“I have literally witnessed you throw a chair in anger, get someone else to say that to me.” 
He seems ready to respond, when the waiter comes with the food, and you speak before he can, politely asking if you can get a to-go box for it instead. Your father doesn’t seem to have the guts to speak as the waiter glances between you both unsurely before nodding, “Of course.”
He takes the dish back and the moment he is out of ear-shot, your father says, “We aren’t done talking.”
“I am.” You shrug, clearly not willing or planning on sitting here any longer than you have to.
The waiter is back out with your to-go container wrapped in a bag that has mint-chocolates inside as well as a complimentary box of breadsticks that you’ll probably eat while crying your eyes out later. You ignore the stern orders from your father to sit back down, thanking the waiter with a polite smile and promptly walk out of the restaurant. 
The tears of frustration start falling the moment you’re in the safety of your car, a soft curse leaving your lips as you put the bag of food in the passenger seat and pull out of the parking lot, turning ‘this is me trying’ by Taylor Swift all the up as you drive the highway back home. You ignore the texts from your father, as well as the calls.
You’re at the red light before turning into your neighborhood when Riki’s caller ID shows up on the screen of your console, and you debate even answering, but wipe your eyes and clear your throat as you press the green answer button, “Hello?” 
Your voice is more stable than you expected it to be, and Riki responds in kind, “Hey, I just got out of practice—you okay?”
“M’fine, what’s up?” You say with an attempt at a sneaky sniffle, the thought of him knowing you’re crying is too humiliating. Part of you is disappointed he somehow could tell that something was up. The other part of you, the vulnerable and hurt teenage girl with daddy issues and a yearning to be listened to and understood, begs to just break down. 
He doesn’t seem to buy it, you hear the sound of keys jingling and then a car door opening and shutting, then he’s speaking again, “You sure?”
The light turns green, and you finally turn into your neighborhood, “I’m fine.” It’s almost a snap, one you instantly regret as you quickly say, “Sorry, just—“
“It’s okay,” He assures, and you feel even more guilty, more tears threatening to fall as your bottom lip trembles again. You’re pulling into your driveway as he continues, “Wanna talk about it over lunch?”
“I just got lunch with my dad, actually,” You say with a soft, bitter laugh, voice wavering and a soft curse leaving your lips the moment it does, “Fuck, sorry, this is just weird.”
He seems a bit panicked by the way your voice only turns more tearfilled as you apologize, “Hey, don’t worry about it, seriously—“ There’s a sound like a knock on the other end, and you hear him whisper something like ‘go away’ before he’s continuing, “—sorry I teased you earlier today, I, uh, thought I made you mad so I was calling to make up for it.”
A soft sob leaves you as you laugh with it, “I’m not mad about that, but I did wanna talk about it,” You sniffle, “About Nayeon, I mean.”
“You don’t have to, I was just messing with you.” You can imagine him shaking his head slightly as he speaks, “She didn’t really say much, just asked if we were dating.”
“What’d you say?” You find yourself asking.
He hesitates before answering, “Yeah.”
It sends a weird hot jolt to your stomach and your worried lips turn into a girlish smile that you quickly wipe off your face, “That’s okay, y’know. I’m pretty sure my friends have been telling everyone you’re my boyfriend, so the whole ‘taking it slow’ shit is out the window.”
He chuckles on the other end and it flips your stomach like a fucking pancake, “Great, I’m not that type anyway.”
(There’s a feral voice in the back of your conscience that screeches like it’s a beast gnawing at the walls of its enclosure.)
Your teeth catch your bottom lip and your eyes shut like you’re trying to come back to Earth and not hang up out of pure flustered reflex. You force out a response, “Just means we have to make it more believably genuine.”
“What’s your plan, pretty girl?” 
Oh, you want to bang your head into the steering wheel. “Do you mind coming over? I wanna discuss it in person but I just got home.”
You jaw slackens in shock at your own words, looking into the rear view and mouthing at yourself; Bitch, what the fuck—
“Yeah, sure. What’s the address?” His response is so natural and unperturbed the catastrophizing your brain has done in the last second slips away and you silently scream.
A second later you respond like normal, “I’ll text it to you.”
“Okay, I’m on my way, then.”
When the two of you hang up after a few more words, you realize what you have done and quickly turn off your car, grabbing the food and your purse and hastening into the open garage, struggling with the doorknob and pressing the garage door button before entering. 
Your room isn’t messy, per say, but your duvet is covered in cat fur, and you don’t even know if Riki’s allergic to them or not. “Gus, can you move, please?” You ask your cat as you begin to pull the duvet off your bed but he remains unmoving on the end of your bed.
He blinks at you slowly, and you sigh. 
After taking too much time carefully moving the duvet from under your cat and hurriedly tossing it into the laundry room while grabbing your spare to put on the bed instead, the doorbell rings.
With one(at least three) last look in the mirror to check your appearance, still in the outfit you changed into for lunch with your dad, you open the large iron front door.
“Hi.” You greet softly with a slight smile, and Riki has one himself that almost looks shy.
He bites his bottom lip and says back, “Hi.”
As you let him in, you look down at the door handle, waiting for him to step inside before shutting it behind him.
As his eyes move to assess his surroundings with slow steps, you catch up to him, grabbing his sleeve and pulling his hand from his pocket as you tug him along toward your room with unhurried steps. He lets you, though you hear the chuckle under his breath.
“That’s Gus. I hope you’re not allergic to cats.” is the first thing that leaves your mouth as you pull him into your cleaned room(though you’ll have to un-ass your closet later), and he gasped softly.
The voice that comes out next is higher in pitch and softer as he hesitantly approaches your loafing cat, who sniffs his fingers for a second or two before headbutting them. You witness Riki practically melt as he coos at the feline that happily receives his pets.
“Wanna guess his full name?” You jest, and he hums, looking over at you curiously but not halting his petting of Gus. “Gazpacho.”
Riki looks elated by the information, grinning so prettily you want to use the vintage lotus lamp on your nightstand to beat your head against, and he softly goes back to cooing, “Hi, Gazpacho.”
A giggle laugh leaves your lips that you quickly cover with your mouth and a quick avert of your gaze, eyes landing on the whiteboard against your wall. The fucking whiteboard.
“Oh, fuck.” leaves your lips before you can stop yourself but you’re already moving to grab the object of your doom, “Don’t look, close your eyes.”
Your demands are met with pure boyish defiance, and his eyes follow your movement to your closet door, opening it just enough to toss the whiteboard inside and quickly shutting it. “You saw nothing.”
He slowly pulls away from Gus with a growing suspicious smirk, “I’m scared to ask.”
“It’s just a whiteboard, nothing of consequence written on it, or anything.” You say with a purse of your lips.
“A whiteboard?” He questions with a tilt of his head.
You nod, moving away from your shut closet door and taking the opportunity to change the subject, “My stepdad’s a physicist.”
“Ooh, that’s cool.” He says with a thumbs up, taking the moment to move his eyes around the room as he had been distracted by the cat, “This is a nice house.”
“Thank you,” You respond softly out of instinct, “My mom’s a big lawyer too, so
.”
“Ah, right, I think Jake mentioned that once.” He nods, sitting in the bean bag(you’ll have to break the news to Eunchae later).
You hum, sitting on the edge of your bed beside Gus and petting him, “What do your parents do?”
He has a slightly shy grin on his face as he says, “They own a pretty big dance studio.”
“That’s super cool.” You compliment with a tilt of your head, “Do you dance?”
If you could audibly coo at the redness blooming on the tips of his ears as he nods slightly you would, but you settle with a giggle that has him squeezing his eyes shut in embarrassment, “I do, yeah.”
“I did ballroom for like, ten years.” 
It’s as if you’ve revealed a hidden treasure, and he asks, “Do you still know how?”
You immediately hold up a defiant hand, “I am not showing you, and it’s been years.”
He whines, hands moving to clasp pleadingly, “Aww, c’mon, I’ll take you to my family’s studio and show you mine.”
This piques your interest and you ask before you can think about it, tone playfully flirty, “Taking me to meet your parent’s so soon?”
He chuckles softly, voice still so low, “Like I said, I don’t like slow.”
It takes a few more minutes of pointless chatter(and many more flirty remarks that make you want to scream into your pillow) before you get to the core of your problems today; Nayeon.
“Okay, wait, so—she and your ex
were together?” He reiterates to better understand, and you nod, and he then asks, “In your house?”
“Why do you think I took the fire-poker to his car?” You shrug, and he has a half-grin on his face.
“I thought that rumor was exaggerated.” He admits, giving you an appreciative once over like he’s impressed, “You’ve got a temper, huh?”
“I’ve never overreacted in my life.” You say with a slight raise of your hands.
He nods with a slight smirk as if he absolutely believes you, “‘Course not.”
“Anyway, she had a major crush on you in freshman year, literally fantasized about your wedding and everything,” You blissfully expose, “And I already had my eyes on you so it all worked out.”
He nods with a hum and slight smirk, “I see, so I’m sweet revenge.”
“The sweetest.” You playfully flirt, and his eyes turn into shy crescents.
“So, who were your other options?” He asks after a few seconds to let the pink on his cheeks fade, and you grin.
“Jealous?” You mimic his tone from earlier in the day and he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah, I am.” The admission falls naturally from his lips and your gut flips, “Curious, too.”
“Jungkook didn’t want me to choose you.” You respond with a tight smile.
His eyes widen, “Coach knows?”
“He’s got an idea.” You respond with a slight shrug.
“Did he suggest anyone else?”
“Jungwon,” You answer easily, snickering softly when he groans and throws his head back, “but he’s a tight-ass, he’d never agree.”
Riki snorts, and with a shrug says, “You’re pretty, I think he’d come around.” Your raised brow has him quickly changing the subject with a curious tilt of his head, “You already had your eyes on me, though?”
His question is cheeky and paired with a matching grin that makes you roll your eyes and fight nervous giggles as you say, “I never said that.”
“Really? ’Cause I heard you say it.” He seems much too determined to not let you move on from the subject but your mother loves to compare you to a mule in regards to obstinance.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shrug innocently.
He leans forward slightly in the beanbag, his elbows resting on his knees, and that grin of his only widens. “You’re a terrible liar.”
“And you’re annoyingly persistent,” you counter, but there’s no real bite behind your words. You stand up, moving toward your desk under the guise of rearranging things that don’t need rearranging, mostly to avoid his knowing gaze.
Riki tilts his head, watching you with amusement. “You know, if you’re trying to throw me off, it’s not working.”
You glance over your shoulder, trying not to crack under the weight of his attention. “Throw you off from what? I’m just tidying.”
“Right. And I’m just here for the cat.”
“Good. Gus loves the attention,” you quip, folding your arms over your chest as you turn back to him.
“But I’m not done yet,” he says with mock seriousness, shifting in the beanbag like he’s settling in for the long haul. “What’s so bad about admitting you’ve been into me? I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself in a way that’s more playful than cocky, but you still roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle they don’t get stuck.
“Wow, humble too,” you shoot back, but the warmth in your cheeks betrays you.
“Hey, just stating facts. Can’t help it if you have great taste.” He pauses, letting the silence stretch just enough to make you squirm. “Besides,” he adds, his voice dipping lower, “you’re kind of making it obvious now.”
Your hands find your hips in defiance. “How, exactly?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he muses, standing up slowly, his movements deliberate as he closes the distance between you. “The way you got all flustered when I asked if you still know how to dance. Or how you won’t look me in the eye right now.”
You refuse to back down, lifting your chin as you meet his gaze. “I’m not flustered. And I’m looking at you right now, aren’t I?”
He smirks, leaning just a little closer, his tone teasing. “Sure you are. But you’re still not answering my question.”
You blink innocently up at him through your lashes and you swear you see his eyes dart below your nose. “What question?”
Riki lets out a soft laugh, a mix of exasperation and amusement, as he shakes his head. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“I’ve been told.” You shrug, trying to look nonchalant, but the proximity is starting to get to you.
He watches you for a moment, his smirk turning into something softer, though no less mischievous. “Alright, fine. I’ll let it go. For now.”
“Oh, how gracious of you.” Your sarcasm earns you a grin as he steps back and flops dramatically into the beanbag again, sprawling like he owns the place.
“Gotta keep you on your toes, don’t I?”
“More like get on my nerves,” you mutter, though the twitch of your lips gives you away.
“Same thing.” He winks, and you hate how charming he looks doing it.
The smirk he gives you as he leans back has your stomach doing somersaults, but you refuse to let him see you sweat. Instead, you turn your attention to Gus, pretending to be more interested in your cat than in the boy currently making himself at home in your life—and your head.
As Riki lounges back in the beanbag, his eyes drift lazily around the room again, lingering on the neatly arranged desk and the wall beyond. “You’ve got a pretty organized vibe for someone who just tossed a whiteboard into a closet like it was a bomb.”
You freeze mid-pet, your hand hovering above Gus’s head. “You’re still on about that?”
“I mean, it’s a whiteboard. What kind of secrets could it possibly hold?” His tone is teasing, but the glint in his eyes says he’s not letting it drop.
You debate lying, but the little smirk playing on his lips tells you he won’t believe you anyway. “Nothing important. Just
 research.”
“Research.” He repeats with an arched brow, “Like, ‘solving world hunger’ research or me research?“
You groan, dragging your hands down your face. “I hate you.”
“Now I really have to see it.” He starts to rise, and you spring to your feet, blocking his path to the closet.
“Riki, no.”
“Riki, yes.” He steps closer, towering over you slightly, his grin widening as you try to stand your ground.
“Don’t make me sic Gus on you,” you warn, pointing toward the loafing cat.
“Gus and I are best friends now. He’d never betray me.” Riki gestures toward the cat, who yawns dramatically like he’s staying out of it.
“Traitor,” you mutter at Gus, which earns you a laugh from Riki.
“C’mon,” he cajoles, his voice dropping into that infuriatingly soft tone that makes your heart do weird flips. “What’s the worst that could happen if I see it?”
Your resolve wavers, but the idea of him actually reading the whiteboard is too mortifying, “I’ll have to kill you.”
His grin only widens at your threat, his dark eyes glinting with amusement. “Wow, straight to murder, huh? Didn’t realize you were so passionate about
whatever’s on that board.”
“You have no idea,” you mutter, crossing your arms in an attempt to look intimidating. It doesn’t work. Riki’s grin turns smug, like he knows he has the upper hand.
“Now I really need to know.” He leans closer, and the proximity sends your heart into overdrive. You can practically feel the heat radiating from him as he tilts his head, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl. “What if it’s, like, a shrine to me or something?”
The gasp you let out is equal parts offense and panic. “You think way too highly of yourself.”
“I don’t know,” he teases, tapping his chin as though deep in thought. “I’ve heard people do wild things when they’ve got a crush.”
“Bold of you to assume—”
“You’re avoiding the question again.” He cuts you off, smirking as he steps back just enough to lean casually against the end of your bedframe, his arms crossed. “What’s on the whiteboard, really?”
You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. There’s no way you’re admitting to the utterly ridiculous pros and cons list your friends talked you into. Not yet, anyway.
“It’s
 study stuff,” you finally say, your tone lacking conviction. “School projects, maybe some physics equations. Boring things you wouldn’t care about.”
“Physics equations?” he repeats, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, because I look like the kind of guy who’d buy that excuse.”
“Hey, I’m trying here,” you snap, which only makes him chuckle again.
“I can tell. You’re terrible at it.” His grin softens slightly, the teasing replaced with something that feels a little too close to genuine. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. You don’t have to tell me.”
You blink at him, surprised by his sudden shift in tone but immediately suspicious of it. “Really?”
“Sure.” He shrugs, though there’s still a playful glint in his eyes. “But now I have leverage. You’ll owe me later.”
“Owe you for what?” you demand, but the smug look on his face says you won’t get an answer you like.
“For letting you off the hook, obviously.” He straightens and gives you a wink before heading back to the beanbag like he didn’t just upend your entire equilibrium. “Don’t worry—I’ll think of something good.”
You stare at him, your jaw slightly agape, as he makes himself comfortable again. Gus hops onto his lap, clearly picking sides, and Riki’s attention shifts back to your cat like nothing happened.
“You’re infuriating,” you mutter, though you can’t quite keep the fondness out of your voice.
He glances up, his smirk softening into a smile that’s entirely too charming. “And you love it.”
You hate that you do.
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The week passes by with a dreadful speed, and after four whole days of anxiety-induced stomach aches, migraines, and a few breakdowns in the dark privacy of your room at midnight, it is the weekend. 
It is the weekend, and Belle, Hiyyih, and Eunchae bear witness to a minor crash-out.
“I’m gonna puke.” You mumble, sitting on the ottoman at the center of your walk-in closet with your face in your hands as the older two walk around you, going through your options for an outfit.
“Keep that shit in bitch,” Belle says without looking away from the clothes hanging in your closet, pointing a finger blindly at you in warning, “You puke, I puke.”
Eunchae moves towards your hunched form from her spot on your bean bag(which she moved into your closet to sit on), snickering softly as she sits beside you and brings her hand to rub circles on your back. “There, there.”
A part of you wants to snap at her that she isn’t funny, but the act is weirdly comforting so you let her continue. Bahiyyih speaks from where she is in front of your shoe shelf, “Why do you have so many shoes?”
“My mom gets sent them monthly by some guy she was a lawyer for a while ago,” You exhale as you drop your hands into your lap, eyes still closed as you contemplate opening them ever again, “She hates wearing pumps now so she gives them to me or regifts them.”
“What if you wear these?” Hiyyih holds up a pair of Louboutins, and you open your eyes to see before looking at her like she’s crazy.
“Not only is it bowling and I’m gonna have to change shoes anyway, but I’m not wearing a So Kate for something that isn’t even a date, Hiyyih.”
She pouts her bottom lip as she puts them down, and Belle pulls a top from the collection of them hanging in your closet and holds it up in question towards you. After a few seconds of staring at the article of clothing, debating if you remember looking cute in it or not, you nod and she tosses it into the ‘maybe’ pile. 
Two seconds later, you’re hunching over and blindly grabbing a pillow near you to scream into.
Eunchae pats your back again, her snickering turning into full-blown laughter. “Feel better now, drama queen?”
You lift your head just enough to glare at her over the pillow. “No.”
“Good,” Belle says, tossing another shirt into the ‘definitely not’ pile without even showing it to you. “Because if you puke or scream again, I’m calling your mom and telling her you’re being insufferable. She might take those Louboutins back.”
“That’s not funny,” you mumble into the pillow.
“It’s a little funny,” Hiyyih chimes in, holding up a sequined crop top like it’s the Holy Grail. “Okay, but seriously, what about this? It says ‘I’m fun,’ but not, like, too fun.”
Eunchae tilts her head at it. “It also says ‘I moonlight as a disco ball.’”
You groan, sitting up straight and snatching the crop top out of Hiyyih’s hands. “Why is this so hard? It’s bowling! I should just wear sweatpants and call it a day.”
Belle spins around with the precision of a K-drama villain. “Don’t you dare. Do you want to show up looking like his cousin who just rolled out of bed, or like the mysterious, unattainable enigma that you are?”
“Unattainable?” you ask with a hesitant furrow of you brows.
“Yeah, unattainable, as in: unattainable by anyone else but him,” Belle clarifies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re playing the long game, babe.”
“You say that like this is some kind of psychological warfare,” you deadpan.
Belle shrugs. “It kind of is.”
Eunchae raises a hand like she’s in class. “But what if he’s bad at bowling? Like, gutter ball after gutter ball bad? Do you let him win or destroy him?”
You pause, genuinely considering it. “Destroy him, obviously.”
“Bold choice.” Hiyyih nods approvingly, tossing a pleated skirt into the maybe pile. “What if you’re bad, though?”
You gasp. “That’s not even an option.”
Belle smirks. “So confident for someone who hasn’t touched a bowling ball since middle school.”
“You’re supposed to be helping me, not roasting me!” You grab the nearest pillow and launch it at her. She dodges with ease, laughing as it smacks into the closet door behind her.
“Roasting you is my way of helping you,” Belle retorts, unfazed. “It’s called multitasking.”
Eunchae picks up the discarded pillow and hands it back to you, patting your head like you’re a distressed pet. “There, there. At least you’ll look cute while you embarrass yourself.”
“Why are all of you like this?” You drop your head back into your hands, half tempted to cancel the whole thing.
“Because we love you,” Belle sing-songs, pulling out a denim jacket that you forgot you even owned. “Now shut up and try this on. We’re on a schedule, ho.”
You sigh, begrudgingly taking the jacket as the three of them continue their chaotic brainstorming session around you. It’s not helpful in the slightest, but somehow, it makes you feel a little less like throwing up again.
By some miracle—or maybe just the collective force of Belle’s bullying, Eunchae’s comfort, and Hiyyih’s endless suggestions—you finally land on an outfit. The moment you pull the halter top over your head, the three of them fall silent, which is either a very good sign or a very bad one.
“Okay, that’s cute,” Belle finally declares, hands on her hips like she personally designed the top. “It’s giving effortless, but still hot enough to make him sweat.”
“It’s super cute on you,” Hiyyih chimes in, tilting her head as she appraises the outfit.
“It is,” Eunchae adds, grinning as she slides off the bean bag to circle you.
The cropped halter top clings just right, the rich color complementing your skin tone and making you feel
hot. Paired with the baggy jeans that sit low on your hips, the whole look is casual, but not too casual. You glance at the mirror, adjusting the jeans slightly and eyeing the way they pool at the hems over your socked feet.
“Am I pulling this off?” you ask hesitantly, smoothing the fabric of the top.
Belle snorts. “If he’s not staring, I’ll be personally offended on your behalf.”
Eunchae pretends to swoon dramatically, throwing herself back onto the bean bag. “The mysterious unattainable enigma strikes again.”
“Okay, but shoes,” Hiyyih cuts in, crouching by the pile of options at your feet. “You’re wearing sneakers, obviously, but which ones? The Nikes or the New Balances?”
You glance down, debating for a moment before pointing to the Nikes. “They’re cleaner.ïżœïżœ
Belle raises an eyebrow. “Barely. When was the last time you cleaned your shoes?”
You glare at her, picking up a sneaker and threatening to launch it her way. She holds up her hands in mock surrender, moving to pull a jacket from the rack as she says, “Make sure you bring a jacket, though. It’s cold as shit.”
“Or she can not bring one and Riki can lend her his.” Eunchae suggests with a cheeky grin.
Belle promptly tosses the jacket into the back of your closet.
You roll your eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. The nerves are still there, bubbling under the surface, but with your friends around—and an outfit that actually makes you feel cute—you start to think that maybe, just maybe, tonight won’t be a complete disaster.
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riki 🙈: im here
“We’re seeing you off,” Belle declares, handing you the Prada bag she just stuffed your lip combo into. Hiyyih trails behind her, spritzing your neck and wrists with your favorite perfume.
The dread must be plastered all over your face because Eunchae immediately starts snickering from where she’s leaning against the doorframe. “We just wanna see his reaction.”
“To me or to you guys making kissy faces at him from the porch?” you deadpan.
The chorus of giggles that erupts from your three friends is all the answer you need.
“Oh, come on,” Belle says, looping her arm through yours as she drags you toward the front door. “We’ll behave.”
“You behaving is a scientific impossibility,” you mutter, trying to resist, but she’s got the strength of someone fully committed to the bit.
“Hold on,” Eunchae pulls something out of her hoodie pocket she must’ve forgotten was there until just now, uncapping the small bottle and holding it in front of your lips, “Open.”
You obey with a slight furrow of your brows, and she sprays it into your mouth, giggling when you flinch slightly in surprise and grimace at the strong mint taste. Eunchae grins, unzipping the bag on your shoulder just enough to slip it in before closing it, “To prevent food breath.”
The moment Belle opens the front door, your breath catches at the sight of Riki leaning casually against the passenger side of his Wrangler, hands tucked into his pockets. The golden light of the setting sun highlights the faint smirk on his face, his jewelry glinting as he shifts.
"Lord have mercy," you mutter under your breath.
You didn't expect him to show up in sweatpants and a hoodie, but you weren't prepared for this either. The necklaces layering his collarbones and the glint of piercings--does he have an eyebrow piercing?—are almost too much. You quickly shove down the spiral threatening to start and glance back at the three traitorous girls behind you.
Their kissy faces drop immediately, though Eunchae barely suppresses her laughter. 
With a playful shove to Hiyyih—who stumbles into the porch pillar but resumes her antics without missing a beat—you flip them all a perfectly manicured middle finger and step off the porch.
As you walk toward him, you swear the faintest blush tinges his ears. He waves briefly at your friends before straightening and meeting your gaze.
"You look good," he says, voice low and easy.
"I know." Your response is swift and confident, though the smile on your face is warmer than intended.
The moment is interrupted when the backseat window of his car rolls down, and Jake's grinning face is revealed. Your smile drops.
"Why is Jake in your car?" you deadpan, your smile dropping.
Riki groans, dragging a hand over his face. "Dude, I told you not to be weird."
Jake looks offended. "I didn't even say anything!"
"Seeing your face is enough," you reply flatly. Jake pouts dramatically while you shoot Riki an accusatory glare. "You could've warned me."
"If I did, you would've come out frowning," Riki whines playfully. "You have such a pretty smile."
From the backseat, Jake's obnoxious "ooooh" echoes, accompanied by giggles that make Riki's blush spread down his neck. Still, he keeps his composure enough to open the passenger door for you.
"What a gentleman~," Belle teases loudly from the porch.
Eunchae waves at you, practically bouncing with glee. You shoot Belle a glare, mouthing "kill yourself" as you accept Riki's hand and climb into his lifted car.
"Bye, Manchae," you call, snapping your attention away from him as he closes the door. You're too aware of his cologne and the lingering warmth of his hand. He looks way too good.
Riki salutes your friends playfully before circling to his door. Through Jake's open window, you hear Hiyyih shout, "She likes Dr Pepper!”
"And winning!" Eunchae adds.
"And tongue," Belle finishes just before the window rolls up.
You cringe. Riki's amused laugh is confirmation he definitely heard that. "I hate her so much," you mutter, pulling the sun visor down to touch up your lip gloss to dostract yourself.
You're halfway through the motion when you notice Riki hasn't started driving yet. Turning, you catch him just as he’s looking back at the road, his hand on the gear shift. (There’s something attractive about the fact he drives stick.)
Jake's giggle breaks the silence. "Oh, shut up, Jake," you snap, not necessarily to defend Riki—though it only makes Jake laugh harder. “Why couldn't your other friends bring him?" you grumble, swiping the gloss over your bottom lip.
"He's my neighbor," Jake says cheekily.
"I would've made him walk," you reply, clicking the gloss shut and shoving it back into your bag. "Or Uber."
"That's just cruel," Jake protests, but you shrug.
"Sucks."
Riki snickers and nods. "Okay, he'll Uber next time."
Jake looks appalled. "Bro."
"You're annoying me too," Riki replies, barely glancing back as he rests his hand lazily on the gear shift.
You pointedly ignore the way his rolled-up sleeves expose a line of muscle up his forearm, a vein standing out as he moves to grab his phone charger. "Play your music," he says, holding the cord out to you.
Jake gapes. "Bro, you never let us play our music."
"That's because you guys have shit taste," Riki says without hesitation.
Your lips twitch, a sliver of pride blooming in your chest.
You connect your phone, Sabrina Carpenter's Taste filtering through the speakers. Jake perks up. "Oh, I actually like this song."
"You better," you reply, humming along as the music plays.
Riki bobs his head lightly to the beat, his usual laid-back energy soothing you as the drive continues.
"Who else is bowling with us?" you ask, turning the music down slightly.
"Jay, his girlfriend, and Heeseung," Riki answers casually.
You hum in understanding and turn the volume back up, inhaling the soft musk of his cologne mingling with your perfume. The scent is annoyingly pleasant, calming in its own way.
By the time he pulls into the parking lot and finds a good spot, the sky has dimmed to a deep navy. Riki is out of his seat in a flash, jogging around to open your door before Jake even unbuckles himself. His hand lingers on yours as he helps you down, his fingers interlocking with yours naturally.
Jake trails behind you two as Riki leads you toward the neon-lit entrance, the muffled sounds of bowling balls and laughter drifting through the glass doors. 
Jay, a pretty girl you are pretty sure was in your art class in freshman year, and Heeseung are standing near the entrance, and you wish you could hide behind Riki from their gazes that immediately find your intertwined hands.
You send a smile to the only other girl reflexively, and she sends the prettiest one back. She grins excitedly as the three of them meet your trio halfway once you enter the door that Riki holds open for you to enter first. 
(You wonder if these are manners his sisters and mother taught him or a previous girlfriend—wait, no you don’t.)
“I told you it was her!” She smacks Jay’s arm, and he winces with a soft laugh, clearly used to his girlfriend’s antics. Her approach is welcomed as she explains, “He was saying Riki was lying.” 
“About?” You question curiously, an easy smile on your glossy lips.
She giggles as she answers, “You being his girlfriend.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Riki says lowly, clearly embarrassed by the subject as you snicker at his misfortune.
“I’m Gaeul, by the way.” The girl states with a giggle as she pulls you from Riki with her elbow hooked with yours, and you barely glance back at your ‘boyfriend’, who’s being patted on the shoulder by Jay. “They’ll handle paying for everything, let’s get some snacks.”
“Oh, okay.” You say softly before smiling with her, delighted that she brought up food before you had to ask Riki about it. You aren’t ashamed of eating, or shy about doing so in front of him, but having another girl who also seems to prioritize food was immensely comforting to the anxiety in your gut. 
She grins as the two of you step into line at the concession counter, “I’m also glad I got you away from the boys for a second, they’re so
”
“Boyish?” You finish, and she laughs softly.
“Yeah.”
“Girl to girl,” You start, moving up in line with her, “I don’t think I’m gonna be good at bowling.” 
She gasps joyfully, “I suck!”
You laugh at her clear excitement that she’s finally not alone in that aspect, “But that means the boys are better than us.”
She rolls her eyes at the mention of them, “Riki and Heeseung are the really good bowlers,” There’s one more person between you two and the counter now, “I love my boyfriend, but he and Jake suck compared to those two.”
“I don’t want to lose to Jake.” You sigh, “It just doesn't seem ethical.”
“Riki’ll handle him.” She snickers softly, “You should've seen him at practice when Jake and Hoon messed with you.”
Your interest is piqued, but the person in front of you finishes paying for their food and you are forced to put your questions aside as she begins ordering and you realize you don’t even know what you want. 
You’re skimming over the menu above when your phone dings in your purse.
riki 🙈: what size shoe do u wear?
Quickly typing an answer, you glance between your phone and the menu, and Gaeul turns to you, waiting for you to add to the already sizable order with how much the four athletes can eat. “Oh, I can pay for myself—“
“Riki already venmoed me enough to spot you,” She interjects with a soft giggle, and you feel your cheeks burn.
“Oh,” You let out before shaking your head and looking at the waiting cashier, “A large drink and a basket of cheese fries, please.ïżœïżœ
Gaeul hands you the stack of cups she’s handed, and you startle slightly when a hand and arm appear in your vision, plucking the cups from your hand. When you look over your shoulder you find a smirking Riki, “I got this. Go sit.” 
You huff softly, fighting your smile that threatens to grow even wider, “I can fill up my own drink.”
“I know, but I wanna do it.” He states with a nod like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and you can’t do much more than glare weakly. He only chuckles softly as Gaeul finishes paying and realizes he’s with you, “Go. Dr Pepper, right?.”
You look away from his cheeky smirk with a shift of your jaw, and you lose the fight against the grin now on your face, “I hate you.”
He only huffs softly in amusement as you walk away with your arms crossed, making your way to where you spot Heeseung’s orange hair. There’s a pair of green bowling shoes beside another bigger pair that are red placed on the bench seating, and Jake has a grin on his face the moment you sit down to put them on.
“I am not above hitting you in the head with a bowling ball, Jake.” You say as you pull the white sneakers off your feet to put on the bowling shoes, not even soaring the Australian boy a glance as his mouth shuts, clearly rethinking speaking.
Heeseung snorts, “Shit, you are violent.”
You look up from your bowling shoes at the Lacrosse captain, who’s grin drops and he quickly looks away, acting like he wasn’t just laughing. Jay shakes his head with a laugh, “Thank you, for shutting them up.”
You give him a smile with a scrunch of your nose, “My pleasure.”
The moment Riki and Gaeul return, you’ve barely gotten your shoes tied. You’re still shooting looks at Jake, who’s pretending to look anywhere but at you while Jay wheezes softly into his hand. Riki raises a brow, setting a tray of drinks and snacks on the table. “What happened now?”
“She threatened Jake’s life with a bowling ball,” Heeseung informs him with amusement still clear on his face.
Riki pauses mid-sip of his drink, glancing at you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. “Already? We haven’t even started the game yet.”
You shrug innocently, tugging the laces on your bowling shoes tighter. “He looked like he deserved it.”
“I didn’t even say anything!” Jake argues with a whine, and you roll your eyes.
“You had that stupid look on your face.”
“Not defending him, but that’s just what Jake looks like.” Jay interjects with a finger raised to make a point, and Gaeul smacks his hand lightly with a disapproving shake of her head despite her snickering.
Riki sits beside you, handing you a large cup full of what you assume is Dr Pepper that you immediately taste to prove your theory, humming happily and smiling as you thank him. His smile mirrors yours as he begins to put on his own bowling shoes, and you grab your purse, which you had initially placed to your left, from between the two of you to place it elsewhere.
“Here,” He says softly, grabbing your purse from you to put on his other side with his jacket, which he had shed at some point between entering the building and sitting down, and you mutter a soft ‘oh, thank you’ that has his soft smirk widening just a bit before he focuses back on tying his shoes.
You’re somewhat thankful that they seemed to have agreed on teams instead of each of you having your own scoreboard, though seeing every ‘x’ between your ‘5’ points was embarrassing enough. 
Gaeul seems wholly entertained by the gutter ball she just achieved as you cheer for her from your seat between Riki and Heeseung, too distracted by the fun of the game to see the goosebumps on your arms. You’re leaning forward to pluck a fry from the basket of them on the table when you feel a warm something draped over your shoulders. 
Riki is standing for his turn before you can even react, but across the table Gaeul turns to hide her face in Jay’s shoulder to poorly muffle the high pitched squeal she lets out. You ignore the heat rising up your neck, catching the fry between your teeth to slip your arms into the jacket sleeves.
Jay and Gaeul seem to be the only team playing purely for fun, because Jake and Heeseung are neck and neck with you and Riki on the scoreboard and your ‘boyfriend’ looks less than pleased about it. 
It’s near the last round when Jake scores a miraculous nine points that you mentally prepare to accept defeat, looking up at Riki who had just gotten back with your refilled cup, “Horrible news.”
He raises his brows, looking at the scoreboard and cursing under his breath. It’s your final turn, and while you hadn’t completely embarrassed yourself with your subpar bowling skills you probably weren’t good enough or lucky enough to score anything higher than six points. At the moment, HeeJake is in first place.
Gaeul is cheering you on with her back against Jay’s chest, and Riki leans down, resting a hand on the edge of the table beside you, his face just close enough to make your heart race. “No pressure,” he says softly, smirking. “But if you lose, we’re never hearing the end of it.”
You roll your eyes, trying to act unimpressed. “Great pep talk. Truly inspiring.”
He snickers softly, straightening back up as you stand with dread clear on your pretty face. Heeseung pipes up, “Give her a good luck kiss, Romeo.” The glare you shoot the Lacrosse captain only makes him snicker with his hands held up in mock-surrender, “Was just a suggestion.”
The feigned smile you give him has your fake boyfriend plucking your drink from your hands (how did he knew you had an urge to throw it at Heeseung’s face, you’ll never know), and his hands move to your shoulders to walk with you to edge of the lane to grab a pink 7lb bowling ball.
Riki’s grip on your shoulders lingers, and he leans down slightly to murmur near your ear, “Just—aim in the middle.”
You glance at him over your shoulder with a withering look, choosing to ignore his proximity, “Like that isn’t what I’ve been doing.”
“Could've fooled me—ow! Okay, okay,” He’s still laughing despite rubbing his chest where your punch landed, much too cheeky for your liking but his smile is too
something for you to want to wipe it off his face, “You’re better than Jake.”
You shoot him a skeptical look, but it’s hard to ignore the encouragement in his eyes. Taking a deep breath, you grip the heavy pink ball tightly, positioning it at your waist. Riki steps back, hands on his hips, his smirk still in place.
“Alright, show us what you’ve got, baby.”
“Oh, shut up.” You grumble softly, shooing him away to get his heart-fluttering grin out of your face, and as you pull his oversized sleeves up your arm to keep it from getting in the way you give yourself a mental pep talk.
Don’t lose, bitch.
It doesn’t help that your nails make putting your fingers in the three designated holes a struggle, and the moment the ball is released into the lane, veering left toward the gutter before God herself takes control and it curves back toward the center and slams into the center pin, you cover your face.
Strike!
Gaeul practically shrieks in excitement as the pins scatter, “Yes, girl!”
You blink, lashes fluttering as you process the cheering as well as groans from Jake, and you gasp, “Holy shit!”
Riki’s joyous laughter is infectious and warm, and you let out a soft shriek that fades into giggles as his arms wrap around your waist and he lifts you off your feet in a hug, “Hell yeah, baby!” 
The moment your feet are back on the ground, Gaeul is before you with her hands up for high fives, practically bouncing in excitement for you. It’s practically second nature to you as you match her energy, too high on your miraculous win to notice Riki’s hands lingering on your waist.
Another thing you fail to notice in your moment of joy is a familiar couple just a few lanes over, one party too distracted by the ruckus to pay any attention to the game her boyfriend and his friends dragged her to join.
She watches you smile and laugh as Riki helps you out of your bowling shoes, and her eyes follow you as you walk toward the restrooms with the light blue Prada bag she had always wished you would give her. It isn‘t fair.
You sigh softly as you place your bag on the sink in front of you, unzipping it to grab your lip combo to touch up in the mirror before going back out. As you uncap your lipliner with a muffled click, you hear the bathroom door open but don’t think much of it at the moment.
It isn’t until you look into the mirror, leaning forward slightly to see your lips better, that you see who it is.
“Can I help you?” You ask her reflection with a tilt of your head, tone less confrontational than it should be, but you’re trying to keep your good mood and Nayeon’s face is threatening to ruin it.
She scoffs softly, yet keeps a safe distance, “Do you even like him?”
You look away from the mirror to really look at her, ignoring the satisfaction that her slight flinch brings you, “Excuse me?”
“You moved on fast.” Nayeon states, and you scoff with a smile of both fury and amusement at her audacity, “Is it even real, or did you use daddy’s money to get him to date you?”
The tilt of your head should have been a sign for her to shut her mouth, but she continues when you don’t respond like usual, “But I guess moving from one guy to another is just like you.”
She’s just trying to rile you up, it’s obvious. 
You shake your head with a soft and bitter laugh, looking back at the mirror to continue what you had intended to do, the lip pencil gliding over the edges of your lips and the pad of your ring finger blending the harsh edges. 
Her jaw shifts in the reflection as you cap your lip-liner and exchange it for your lip gloss, and you send her a condescending smile, “You done?”
“You bitch—“ Her words are cut off by another person entering the bathroom, and as you swipe the gloss over your lips, you pause when you see it’s Gaeul.
She glances at Nayeon, but her main focus is on you as she says, “Ready to go?”
You hide your confusion at her question with a pretty smile, closing your gloss and stuffing it back into your bag before you walk to her, shoulder checking the audacious bitch on your way out, “Yep.” 
Gaeul’s arm hooks at your elbow as you both exit the bathroom, and you sigh in relief at being out of that situation before you remember your prior confusion and she explains without you needing to ask, “Your ex is at our table antagonizing Riki, I figured if he’s here she would be too.” 
Your brows furrow and you quickly pick up the pace of your stride with fury souring your mood once again. When you turn the corner, your gaze zeroes in on Riki, who’s leaning back in his seat seemingly unbothered by whatever it is that Eunseok is saying to him, and Nayeon hastens past you to join her boyfriend’s side.
Eunseok’s eyes land on you the moment his girlfriend puts herself on his arm, and they follow you as you approach Riki without even a glance his way until he speaks, “You move on fast.” He snorts, soft and bitter, “Didn’t expect you to open your legs so fast considering how long it took you to put out.”
You ignore him, though the anger in your gut is boiling hot as your gaze moves to Riki, who you find is already standing now, his jaw shifting yet no other sign in his body language that he’s as pissed as his narrowed eyes say he is. Jay, Heeseung, and Jake all watch, though from their body language you can tell they’re not exactly about to stand by if your ‘boyfriend’ decides to throw a well-deserved punch.
His gaze moves to yours the moment your hand finds his, softening as your fingers intertwine with his and you mutter, “Let’s go.”
He nods wordlessly, his willingness only pissing Eunseok off more as he laughs mockingly, and you feel Riki’s hand tighten around yours, “Already got him trained, huh? He like how mean you are?” 
“I do, yeah.” Riki responds for you with a smug smirk, “She’s got a hell of a bite.”
The second meaning to his words isn’t lost on you, and you find the way Eunseok bristles at the comment amusing enough to not get mad at Riki for it later considering the two of you obviously hadn't done more than hold hands. (You hear Jake choke on his drink, too.)
“Bro, it’s your turn!” Calls a familiar male across the bowling alley, Sohee. 
You take the moment of brief distraction to shoot a pointed look at Jake, who gets up from his seat to play peacemaker with Heeseung.
Jay seems to motion for Riki to leave while they’re distracted by the two, and you shoot Gaeul an apologetic glance that she receives with a shake of her head and a look that reads ‘don’t be sorry’ as Riki leads you out of the building.
The moment the frigid air hits you, you tug the sleeves of his jacket down your arms again and shiver slightly. “He’s such a dick.” You sigh softly, “I’m sorry.”
Riki shakes his head as the two of you stop just a few paces outside the entrance, “Don’t apologize.” His hands move to rub at your arms to help you warm up, and the sight of both of your breaths visible in the cold has you moving to take his jacket off to give to him, but his hands cover yours the moment they start pulling at the open zipper. “I’m okay.”
“Riki, it’s cold as shit.”
“All the more reason for you to keep the jacket.” He argues back with a soft smirk, “Really, I practice in the cold every day.” 
“You’re active, then. Not standing around,” You fuss, and he tilts his head slightly in acknowledgement before a cheeky smirk grows on his face.
“‘You worried about me, pretty girl?”
“Oh, stop it.” You groan with a poorly concealed warm laugh, and he catches your hands as you weakly swat at his chest, pulling you closer. “Riki.”
Your soft mutter of his name has his eyes shutting and his head falling back with a soft groan escaping his lips, “You’re so mean, baby.”
“It isn’t fair to you.” He doesn’t seem pleased by your statement, shaking his head and leaning forward to press his forehead to yours.
“Just a kiss.” He pleas softly, his nose brushing yours and you inhale sharply, “Just one.”
His words flip your stomach inside out, and as you sigh his name again he leans in.
“Oh shit!” The sudden exclamation has you and Riki both startling away from each other, Jake grinning like a maniac at the doors with Heeseung, Jay, and Gaeul behind him. “Fuck, did I just ruin a moment?”
You groan, turning away from them to begin walking to Riki’s Jeep, arms crossed to protect yourself from the cold and your mind in utter shambles because—
What the fuck?
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Jake gets a ride from Heeseung home according to Riki, who had unlocked his car for you to get in while he said goodbye to the others. A part of you regrets not saying goodbye to Gaeul, but the thought of spending another second under their gaze at that moment felt suffocating.
The silence in the car is loud. Not awkward loud, but loud enough that every glance out the window and every shift in your seat feels amplified. Riki’s hands stay firmly on the wheel, his fingers drumming against the edge of the leather cover as he fiddles with the turn signal.
“So,” he starts, his voice casual but slightly strained, “you’ve got a mean bowling game for someone who swore they’d lose.”
You glance at him, catching the way the passing streetlights make his jawline look sharper. “That’s because I hustle. Low expectations are a great strategy.”
He huffs a small laugh, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Guess I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
You lean back against the seat, trying to ignore the fact that your heart still hasn’t settled since that moment at the alley—the one where his face was too close, his breath too warm, and you almost forgot this whole thing was fake.
“So
 next time?” you tease, arching a brow. “How much more mortifying teasing can you handle?”
“Depends,” he says, keeping his eyes on the road. “How long does it take to make your ex think he lost the best thing that ever happened to him?”
Your laugh comes out before you can stop it. “It’ll probably never happen, I just like to see him squirm.” The weight of his words sits in the air between you, heavier than it should be. You turn to look out the window, feigning interest in the row of darkened houses you pass by. 
“You know,” he says after a beat, his voice quieter now, “I don’t think they’re worth this much effort. Your ex and
 her.”
You blink, surprised at his shift in tone. “Well, thanks for that motivational speech, Riki. Really helps my self-esteem.”
He shakes his head, glancing at you briefly. “That’s not what I meant. I just mean
 if they couldn’t see how good they had it with you, that’s on them. You don’t need to prove anything.”
The sincerity in his voice catches you off guard. You open your mouth to reply, but the words don’t come. Instead, you study him in the dim light, wondering—not for the first time—why he agreed to this in the first place.
“Why are you doing this, Riki?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
He hesitates, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. “I told you, I need you to help me pass Chem.”
You narrow your eyes, not convinced but also not ready to push. “You haven’t even asked for help past me giving you my old notes.”
He smirks again, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “They’re just that helpful. Don’t overthink it.”
And maybe you don’t, because overthinking means dissecting the way he’s looking at you now in the faint glow of the dashboard, like he knows something you don’t.
The car slows to a stop in front of your house and you fiddle with the hem of your halter top, trying to figure out how to say what’s been sitting heavy in your chest since the bowling alley. “Riki,” you start, your voice softer than usual.
He hums in acknowledgment, already looking at you.
You take a steadying breath. “I don’t think
 I’m ready for a real relationship.”
That gets his attention. His hands shift in his lap, his expression unreadable. “Okay,” he says after a beat, his tone cautious. “Where’s this coming from?”
You shift in your seat, suddenly finding the dashboard very interesting. “It’s just
 you’ve been really good to me this past week, and I feel like it’s not fair to you. I mean, you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel, and I don’t want to lead you on or—”
“Hey.” His voice is calm, steady, and it makes you pause. “You’re not leading me on. I knew what I was getting into.”
“Yeah, but
” You trail off, frustration bubbling up because the words in your head won’t come out the way you want them to. “It’s not just about you. It’s about me, too. I don’t think I’m ready to deal with
 all of this. Not after everything with him. It’s too much.”
He doesn’t say anything right away, which somehow makes it worse. The silence stretches, and you’re about to apologize—again—when he finally speaks.
“So, what do you want to do?”
“I think we should stop,” you say, hating how small your voice sounds. “The fake dating, I mean.”
He nods, almost imperceptibly. “If that’s what you want.”
“It’s not—” You stop yourself, biting your lip as your eyes burn. “I just
 I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve someone who’s all in, and I can’t be that right now.”
His lips twitch into a faint, almost sad smile. “You’re thinking too much about me again.”
You frown, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugs lightly, his eyes moving away from you briefly before they settle back on yours. “It means you’re allowed to put yourself first, you know. I’m a big boy; I’ll survive.”
“But—”
“No buts.” He cuts you off gently, an easy smile still on his face. “If this is what you need, we’ll stop. No hard feelings.”
The simplicity of his response hits harder than you expected. It’s so Riki—quietly selfless, always willing to go along with what makes you happy.
You hate how much you suddenly want to reach across the console and kiss the life out of him. But you don’t. Instead, you swallow the lump in your throat and force a smile.
“Thanks, Riki.”
His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Anytime.”
You watch him exit his car, circle around the front, and open your door for you while holding a chivalrous hand out just like before. A part of your heart aches with the knowledge he’s still doing this despite not technically having to, and you smile softly as you accept his help. His hand doesn’t linger in yours as it did before, though.
The walk to your front door is silent, and he halts just before the step onto your porch, his hands in his pockets, you pause before approaching your door, turning to him. With the few inches that the porch gives you, meeting his gaze is easier. “Tonight was really fun, ignoring the end of it,”
He chuckles softly, “Glad you had fun, pretty girl.” 
If he didn’t mean to let the name slip he doesn’t show any signs of panic or regret, only meeting your nearly-level gaze with warmth.
There’s a moment before you turn your body only slightly towards the front door, “Goodnight.”
His hand catches your elbow gently as you begin to turn away from him, pulling you back yet giving you time to pull away if you so desire, and you don’t.
His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s softer than you imagined it’d be. His hand moves to your cheek yet pauses just before his skin touches yours, lips sweet and slow against yours. 
It’s over before you can kiss back like you want to, his lips parting from yours with a soft smack that makes your stomach flip. 
“Goodnight.” He bids in a low mumble, barely an inch from your lips when the words leave his and he takes a step back with a soft smile that makes your heart twist painfully, “See you Monday.”
You can only nod, forcing a slight smile and turning to punch in the door code with shaky hands and a heavy, aching heart.
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part two. COMING SOON!
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©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.
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motorsportbarbie13 · 26 days ago
Text
Christmas Showdown
In which you and Lando run into an ex-boyfriend while you're home for the holidays.
Warnings: talk of abusive relationship (no details though). Established relationship. Protective Lando. This could probably be better and it's pretty short buttttttt I needed to get this out of my head, so enjoy! Pairing: Lando Norris x Girlfriend!Reader Word Count: 1.8k words
Master List
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It had been several years since you spent the holidays in your small Midwestern hometown. Usually, your family flew out to London or Monaco to spend the holiday’s with you there, much preferring to leave Michigan’s several feet of snow that was typically on the ground during Christmas. This year was different thought. Your grandmother had been too ill to make the long flight so instead, you came to them. Which was fine with you, you had missed seeing friends that were home for the holidays and missed the nostalgic nights spent around the Christmas tree with your family. The one person who was not fine with it, however, was your boyfriend. 
Lando Norris simply hated the cold. He hated being cold. Hated thinking about the cold. Hated the snow. Anytime the temperature dipped below 50 degrees Fahrenheit ( which also a fight you two had often was how he refused to learn the difference between Fahrenheit and Celsius while also simultaneously refusing to do the same for him.) So you knew he must really be down bad for you when he had agreed (albeit a bit sluggishly) to spend the Christmas holiday with you in your (freezing) hometown. 
There was minimal complaining for the first few days you were at home, mostly because it the weather was fair enough to not be something comparable to the North Pole, but trouble arose the day of your Aunt and Uncle’s infamous Christmas party. The first sign of trouble was your brother’s insistence on a family outing to the sledding hill that was a few miles from your house. Of course Lando had packed several parkas but when he had seen the Canada Goose store in the mall the day before, he had bought the thickest, best cold rated puffer jacket he could find. Despite that and several layers of long johns and sweaters, by the time you reached the sledding hill your poor boyfriend was shivering like your grandma’s ancient chihuahua. 
To his credit though, there was not one single utterance of a complaint or plea to go back to your parents house for a cup of hot chocolate then entire time. Lando happily chased your nieces and nephews around the sledding hill and even went down the hill a few times with you. 
“Okay, folks!” Your dad calls out as the afternoon sun hangs low in the sky. “I think it’s time we all head home and get ready for Judy and Steve’s party tonight. I expect everyone to be at their house by 7pm sharp!” The ‘this reminder is for your benefit’ look that your dad sends you has your already wind chapped face turning even more red. 
“I don’t know why you’re glaring at me! I’m always on time!” You shout, grabbing for Lando’s hand. “We’ll see you guys tonight!” 
Once you get in the Range Rover that Lando had rented for the two week visit, he immediately turns the heated seats on full power and cranks up the heat. 
“Do you want to swing by Starbucks and get something warm before going home?” You ask as Lando pulls out of the park and onto the snowy street. “I feel like I might need to just get you an IV of hot chocolate at this point.” 
Lando gives you a sidelong glare. “I think I have icicles in my nose hairs.” 
Laughter tumbles out of you, quick and light, sending a thrill of pleasure down Lando’s spine. You two had been dating for a few years now and there were still times he’d look over at you and think ‘how the fuck did I convince this girl to be my girlfriend?’. You had come into his life at a particularly challenging time and had been his rock since day one. 
“Starbucks it is, my poor little snowman. There’s one up here in this strip mall. Turn left at this light and then it’s on the right.” 
The parking lot, which is a shared lot with several other big box stores, is an absolute zoo and you can see the line snaking around the inside of the Starbucks before you even go in. To save some time, Lando drops you off at the front door while he goes and finds a spot for the large SUV. 
The line is long when you get inside but you’re thankful to at least be out of the bitter cold. While you wait in line, you mindlessly scroll on your Instagram, which is locked down tighter than Fort Knox. Going private on all socials and not being featured heavily on Lando’s had been one of the things you two had agreed upon when things started getting serious nearly two years ago now. People who were huge Lando fans knew who you were but the casual F1 fan probably wouldn’t have been able to pick you out of a lineup. 
Your casually scrolling, minding your own business, when a deep voice calling your name jolts you out of your little social media bubble. 
“Jeff?” You sputter, surprised to see your college boyfriend standing in front of you in line, huge smile on his face. 
Jeff had been one of the guys you and your best friends had drooled over in high school, having been nearly two years ahead of you when you were teens. You didn’t start dating him until your freshman year of college, when he was already a junior. To say the man was toxic was an understatement. In fact, now that you had a few years distance between the now and the end of the relationship, you could confidently say Jeff had been pretty abusive. 
“Hey, stranger!” He says, leaning in for a hug. You go completely still, totally unprepared to be faced with the man who had caused you so much trauma in the two years you had dated. “I have’t seen you in ages, visiting your family for the holidays?” 
You toss a look over your shoulder, desperately wishing for Lando to come walking in the door. “Uh, yeah. First time in a few years. I usually fly them over to London or Monaco for the holidays.” 
A dark shadow passes over Jeff’s face at the mention of where you live now. “Monaco, huh? You always thought you were too good for us here, didn’t you?” 
Your stomach twists painfully at the look in his eyes and you briefly consider just turning around and walking right out of the Starbucks without your drinks.
Before you can stutter out a response, a strong pair of large hands wraps around your waist as Lando drops his head onto your shoulder. “Darling. Baby. Sweetheart. Love of my life." Lando croons in your ear, not yet picking up on your body language. "I adore you but why the fuck did you have to be born in a place where the air hurts your face?” 
You laugh stiffly despite yourself. “Talk to my parents about that one, love.” 
Lando drops a kiss on your cheek before looking over at the other man. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were talking to someone.” 
Across from you, Jeff had been watching this exchange between Lando and you with an increasing amount of annoyance. Who the fuck was this and why was he calling you the love of his life? 
“Lando, this is Jeff.” You turn slightly, giving Lando a knowing look which he catches onto immediately. “Jeff, this is my boyfriend, Lando.” 
“That’s an interesting name. Only heard that name twice before, once in Star Wars and
” Jeff’s voice drops off as he finally makes the connection. “Wait. Lando
as in Lando Norris?” 
The smug grin that stretches across Lando’s face nearly has you giggling. “That’s me. And you’re Jeff, huh? I’ve heard a lot about you. None of it good.” 
Lando remembered the first time you had ever opened up to him a few months into dating about how you had been in an abusive relationship in college and how much work it had taken to recover from it. He had been your first serious relationship after leaving Jeff, having left the country just to get away from him. Internally, Lando raged at the man standing in front of you two, the protective instinct in him screaming to just lay the guy out right here.
Jeff’s already ruddy face turns red with incandescent rage. You had totally forgotten he was a big Formula One fan and when you remember the fact that not only is he an F1 fan, but a huge McLaren fan, the urge to giggle hits you again. Oh, this was just too good. 
“How’d you
” Jeff stutters. “How’d you manage to bag yourself a Formula 1 driver?” 
The question is a pathetic attempt to rile you up and insult you but both you and Lando see that question for exactly what it is. 
Lando plants another kiss on your cheek and you know he’s doing it to be an asshole. “I was actually the one who pursued her. She turned me down left and right for nearly a year, didn’t you baby?” 
You nod, remembering the way Lando had come into your office at the McLaren Tech Center day after day just to make small talk at first but finally had worked up the nerve to ask you out. You were one of the newer people on the comms team back then and you hand’t wanted to jeopardize the career you had worked so hard for so you had turned him down for nearly a year, insisting that you wanted nothing more than a friendship with the driver. 
“But eventually, he wore me down. He flew me to Monaco and took me out on his yacht for our first date, it was all very romantic.” It had actually been Max’s yacht, but Jeff didn’t need to know that bit. 
You can see Jeff practically seething at this point, knowing that you’re doing so well and he’s still apparently stuck in your hometown. 
“And how are you doing, Jeff? Still working at your dad’s law firm? How is Vance doing? And Laura?” You know it’s killing him, asking about his parents by their first name. 
Jeff just blinks at you for a few moments, realizing you weren’t the little girl he used to push around and take advantage of in college anymore. “Made partner last year, actually.” 
“That must be easy to do when your dad owns the practice, huh?” Lando says, voice nothing but light innocence. 
Jeff’s eyes bounce between you and Lando for several moments before he suddenly reaches into his pocket. “If you’d excuse me, it looks like the office is calling me.” 
“A call from the office the day before Christmas! Gosh, you must be very important, Jeffery.” Lando’s low blow to Jeff’s big ego hits true and without another word, the man scampers out of the Starbucks without a second glance in your direction. 
Once he’s gone, both you and Lando dissolve into giggles, your head finding it’s favorite spot on Lando’s shoulder. “I’m surprised he didn’t try to deck you there are the end.” 
“And mess up his pretty lawyer hands? Honey, I doubt he even knows how to throw a punch.” 
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