#I know you’re toxic and you used me and I have better friends in my real life and my wonderful girlfriend with me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fullsunstrawberry · 3 months ago

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Falling for the Enemy (M)

Synopsis: Caught in a toxic relationship with a manipulative and cheating boyfriend, you find solace in his enemy, Donghyuck. What starts as a vengeful fling turns into something more, and old feelings start to re-surface.

Genre: enemies with benefits?, childhood friends fallout, slice of life, angst, a lot of fighting, fluffy end, SMUT MDNI!!

Warnings: swearing, haechan getting into a fight, please guys don’t fight lol, helping clean up after a fight, jealousy, cunnilingus, blowjob, teasing, ex knowingly watching, no condom mentioned (stay safe yall), the pull out method (pls be safe), use of the words hot seed, cum, cock.

Word Count: 18.5k

A/N: Shout out to my lovely 💚anon for this one!! After some internet troubles, it’s finally out now :) Please let me know if there is anything funky about this (I write on google doc and copy and paste it on Tumblr and sometimes it fucks up the format or doubles paragraphs)

Marketing would be a fun class if it wasn't for the pain that decided to sit next to you every single class.

"You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend!" Donghyuck's voice cut through the air, his tone filled with disgust.

"Just shut up!" you snapped, feeling your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why did he have to make things so awkward?

Donghyuck, or Haechan as he insisted on being called now, was someone you hadn't seen in years. You used to be close friends back in middle school, basically best friends. But then life happened, and you had to move away. You two were so young that you couldn't even stay in touch through social media. Only a promise that you two would find each other later on.

Now here you two were, reunited in college, but things were different. Haechan was no longer the sweet boy you once knew. He had turned into an arrogant jerk, who wouldn’t shut the fuck up.

Throughout the class, you couldn't shake off the discomfort of sitting next to Haechan, especially after his rude outburst. But beneath the cocky smirk on his face, you couldn't shake off the feeling that missed your friend that was long gone.

You would never tell anyone that you missed your childhood friend. Especially not any of your new friends, who also hate him. Chenle, Jeno, and Jaemin all would jump at the chance to wipe that little smirk off his face.

Your best friend Chaeryeong was the only one who knew about your past with him. She's the only person who you could never lie to. She always had your back, so you will always have hers. Even if she hates your boyfriend, Jay.

Well, most of your friends hate your boyfriend... Jaemin has even tried to talk you into breaking up with Jay. But “pussied out” as Chenle would say when he saw you were starting to tear up.

Jay was your first boyfriend. You learned how to deal with all of his flaws…Everyone has flaws so why is it so bad for him to have some…okay a lot of flaws. But he’s sweet to you!

You sat through the rest of the class with clenched fists, trying to focus on anything but the awkward tension that clung to the air between you and Haechan. His outburst still echoed in your mind, chewing at you. “You’re no better than your stupid boyfriend”.

Once everyone started to pack their bags, pulling you from your thoughts, you quickly gathered your things, hoping to escape before Haechan could throw another mocking remark your way. But, as expected, he would always be a little shit.

"Running away already?" Haechan’s voice was teasing, but there was something beneath it, something sharp that cut through the cocky tone. "Gonna run back to your little boyfriend."

You spun around, eyes glaring, ready to fire back, but then you caught Haechan's expression. It wasn’t that usual smug grin he always wore. Instead, there was a hint of vulnerability that almost made you stop. Almost. But just like that, it disappeared, and he was back to his old self, smirking like nothing had happened. Typical.

"Maybe you should shut up for once, Donghyuck," you shot back, emphasizing his old name, hoping it would sting.

His smirk faltered. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you saw it. Something about calling him “Donghyuck” felt like a small victory. You were pretty sure the boy you once knew was entirely gone.

You turned on your heel and walked out of the classroom, leaving Haechan behind. As you made your way to the dining hall, you spotted Chenle and Jeno lounging on one of the benches, chatting. Seeing them made you feel more at ease. You needed a distraction. Anything to get your mind off that annoying encounter.

"Y/n! Over here!" Chenle called out, waving his arms dramatically. "Where's Jaemin?."

You shrugged, still shaken by your fight with Haechan. "I haven’t seen him. He’s probably sleeping through his class again."

"Or he got into another fight because of your boyfriend," Jeno added, his eyes holding a seriousness that made your stomach twist. You knew your friends didn’t like Jay, but you wished they could just let it go.

"Can we not do this today," you muttered, dropping your bag next to Chenle and sinking onto the bench. You didn’t have the energy to get into another debate about Jay right now.

Chenle nudged you playfully. "Come on, we’re just looking out for you. You deserve someone better than that guy."

"Yeah, someone who's not a total asshole," Jeno chimed in. "Like, seriously, what do you even see in him?"

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Instead, you stared off into the distance, your thoughts spiraling. It wasn’t just about Jay—it was everything. The awkwardness with Haechan, the tension with your friends, the pressure to hold everything together when you felt like you were starting to unravel.

“He’s sweet…” You trailed off, your words sounding weak even to yourself. Was Jay sweet? Or was that just the version of him you had convinced yourself to see?

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Sweet? You’re joking, right? The same guy that has to approve your outfits when you go out."

You shot him a look, but he continued, persistent. "I’m serious, Y/n. There’s ‘sweet’ and then there’s whatever Jay’s doing to you. You deserve better."

Jeno, who had been scrolling through his phone, suddenly locked eyes with you. “You think this is what love’s supposed to feel like? Constant stress? Us having to break up fights Jaemin gets into because of Jay? You don’t look happy.”

That last comment stung more than you expected like an arrow hitting its mark. Were you happy? Or had you just grown used to the chaos?

Your silence was telling, and your friends exchanged worried glances. Chenle let out a dramatic sigh and pulled out his phone, probably ready to change the topic, when you heard the sound of footsteps approaching. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was.

“Hey, what’s up, guys?” Jaemin's voice was casual, but when he turned to you, his expression hardened a little bit. “Jay’s looking for you again, Y/n. He’s upset about something."

You felt your stomach drop. Of course, he was upset about something. Jay was always upset about something. And it was always your job to fix it, to calm him down, to make everything right.

Chenle clicked his tongue in disapproval. “See? You can’t even breathe without that guy hovering around. He’s suffocating you.”

Jaemin sat down next to you, his tone softer now. “We’re not trying to gang up on you, Y/n. But this… this isn’t normal. It’s not okay.”

You clenched your fists, feeling the weight of their words pressing down on you. You wanted to defend Jay, to tell them they didn’t understand him the way you did. But deep down, you couldn’t deny the truth of what they were saying.

“I’ll talk to him,” you muttered, standing up. You didn’t wait for their response as you walked away, feeling their eyes on your back. You knew they were worried, and maybe they had every right to be. But you couldn’t just walk away from Jay. You didn’t know how.

As you made your way toward the campus courtyard, your mind wandered back to the class with Haechan. You couldn’t shake the image of his face when you called him Donghyuck. But you couldn't let it affect you. He probably did it on purpose so you would overthink and feel bad.

Lost in thought, you almost didn’t notice when Jay appeared in front of you, his face twisted in frustration.

“Where the hell have you been?” he snapped, his voice low but harsh. “I’ve been calling you.”

Your stomach turned, and you immediately braced yourself for whatever fight was coming next. "I was in class. What’s wrong?"

Jay let out a sharp breath, running a hand through his hair. "You didn’t tell me you were sitting next to him again." He spoke with clear disapproval, his gaze burning into yours.

“Him?” It took a moment before you realized he meant Haechan. “Jay, it’s just class. The professor didn’t let us pick where we could sit.”

“That’s not the point, Y/n.” He stepped closer, his expression darkening. “I don’t trust that guy, and I don’t like you being around him.”

“Jay, it’s not like that—”

“It better not be,” he cut you off, his voice laced with an edge that made your skin crawl. “He’s a shitty person, he’s just trying to get to me.”

The words hung in the air. You knew Jay had a jealous streak, but this felt different—darker, more possessive. And for the first time, you felt a tinge of fear.

"I—I have to go," you said quickly, your heart pounding as you stepped back. You didn’t wait for Jay to respond. You couldn’t. Your feet moved on autopilot, moving away from him.

But as you hurried through the campus, a sinking feeling settled in your chest. You didn’t know where you were running to—only that you had to get away from yet another fight.

Choosing to buy some coffee, you push open the local café on campus. The familiar chime of the café door was a welcome sound, cutting through the fog of your jumbled thoughts. The smell of roasted coffee beans and fresh pastries welcomed you as you stepped inside. You spotted an empty table in the corner and made a beeline for it, craving to be away from everything. You ordered a simple iced latte, hoping the cool drink might calm you down.

As you waited for your coffee, you buried your face in your hands. Why did it always have to feel like this with Jay? Why did every conversation leave you feeling smaller, and more insecure about yourself? Your friends were right but you didn’t know what to do.

But what could you do? You couldn’t just walk away. You loved him… didn’t you?

Before you could spiral any further, the barista called your name, pulling you from your thoughts. You grabbed your coffee and took a seat, letting the ice clink against the cup as you swirled it absently.

The door to the café swung open again, noticing it was Haechan you hid your face with your hands. Not wanting to deal with him again.

He walked in, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. For a moment, he hesitated, then made his way over to your table.

“You’re in my spot” he stated, his tone sharp. You stared at him, unsure of what to say.

You hesitated for a moment, did you really want to start a fight right now? “I don’t see your name on it.”

Haechan slid into the seat across from you, leaning back in his chair as if trying to gauge your mood.

“I’ve never seen you here,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked, caught off guard. This wasn’t the Haechan you were used to—the cocky, arrogant guy who seemed to enjoy making your life miserable. Where is the teasing?

“None of your business,” you muttered, staring into your coffee cup, avoiding his gaze. The last thing you wanted was to bare your soul to Haechan of all people. You didn’t need his pity, and you certainly didn’t need him to insert himself into your problems. He would use any information to torment Jay, which would just start an even bigger fight between you two.

But Haechan wasn’t easily deterred. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not an idiot. You look like a kicked puppy.”

There he goes, mocking you even at your worst. But he caught you off guard by how well he could read you. To most people, you probably look like a tired college student, normal. But for some reason, Haechan could tell there was something wrong.

You shook your head. “Why do you care, Haechan?”

He rolled his eyes, leaning forward on the table. “Maybe because it’s not fun to tease you when you’re already miserable.”

You flinched. His words struck deeper than you expected. Did it show that much? Did everyone see it—how exhausted you felt, how tightly you were hurt from trying to keep everything together? You opened your mouth to retort, but no words came out.

Haechan sighed, looking away for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

“Haechan.” The barista called out.

Haechan got up and grabbed his drink before asking something you couldn’t make out. You watched him as he left, not sparing you another glance.

You sighed out, of course, he doesn't care. He’s probably high on seeing you this miserable.

But before you could throw yourself another pity party, the cafe doors slam open and a concerned-looking Chaeryeong comes rushing in.

“Y/n!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through the noise of the café as she rushed over to your table, her face a mix of concern and urgency. You barely had time to brace yourself before she slid into the chair across from you, eyes scanning your face for answers.

“What’s going on? Haechan just said you needed me.” Her tone was low but insistent, probably thinking this was a plan made up by Haechan, trying to get under your skin again.

You exhaled slowly, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s… nothing. Just another argument with Jay.”

Chaeryeong frowned, her brows knitting together. "Another argument? Y/n, you’ve been having a lot of those lately."

You shook your head, trying to dismiss her concern. "It’s just a misunderstanding. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan again. He thinks it’s some big deal, but it’s not."

"Jay seriously has issues if he’s getting worked up over something like that." Chaeryeong’s voice was firm, but there was a softness in her eyes like she was trying to tread carefully. "You know this isn’t normal, right?"

You looked down at your iced latte, feeling the familiar swirl of guilt and confusion rise. You loved Jay—at least, you thought you did. But lately, everything felt like a battle, and you were always on the losing side.

"It’s fine," you said weakly, though the words felt like they were collapsing in on themselves. "He’s just... protective."

Chaeryeong let out a sigh, her frustration barely concealed. "Y/n, there’s a difference between being protective and being controlling. I hate seeing you like this. It’s like you’re always walking on eggshells with him."

You didn’t respond, unable to meet her gaze. The weight of the conversation was suffocating, but you couldn’t deny the truth in her words. Jay’s jealousy had started to bleed into every part of your life, and it was exhausting.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryeong leaned forward, her voice softer. "You don’t have to keep defending him. I know you care about him, but... is he making you happy?"

That question lingered in the air. Was Jay making you happy? Or were you just holding on to the idea of what you thought love should be?

Before you could answer, Chaeryeong reached out and squeezed your hand. "You deserve better than this, Y/n. You deserve to be with someone who makes you feel safe, not stressed out all the time."

You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Can we switch the topic, I don’t want to talk about this right now," you whispered.

Chaeryeong’s grip tightened on your hand. "You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Just know that you’re not alone, okay? I’m here for you."

You nodded, grateful for her support, but still feeling lost in the mess of your emotions. The tall barista came up to your table with a plate of red velvet cookies.

“Um, here you go….” He sat them down on the table in front of you.

“Wait! I didn’t pay for this.”

The barista gave you a small, almost shy smile. "Don't worry about it. They're already paid for." Before you could ask any more questions, he walked away, leaving you and Chaeryeong to exchange confused glances.

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, leaning closer to examine the cookies. "Who do you think...?"

You didn’t have to guess for long. So that’s what he was asking the barista. You blinked, processing the moment.

Chaeryeong noticed too, her eyes narrowing. "Did Haechan just... buy you cookies?"

You shrugged, feeling more confused than anything. "I guess?"

Chaeryeong leaned back, a mixture of amusement and suspicion crossing her face. "Weird, right? I thought he was a jerk."

"Yeah... he is," you muttered, still trying to piece together Haechan's sudden act of kindness. It didn’t fit with the person you’d been dealing with all semester.

But for right now, you weren’t going to overanalyze it. You had enough on your plate with Jay and the constant pressure you were under. Haechan's behavior would have to wait.

You broke the cookie in half and offered a piece to Chaeryeong, hoping to shift the focus back to something lighter. "Want some? Might as well not let them go to waste.

She accepted the piece with a small smile, though her gaze remained thoughtful.

"You know, maybe he’s not as bad as we thought. Or maybe he's just a confusing guy."

You let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. "That’s putting it lightly."

But as the sweetness of the cookie melted in your mouth, the door to the café swung open again, and for a moment, your heart jumped, fearing it might be Jay.

But instead, it was Chenle and Jaemin, both of them scanning the room until they spotted you and Chaeryeong.

"Hey, there you are," Chenle said, sliding into a seat next to Chaeryeong. Jaemin followed sitting in the seat next to you, giving you a concerned look. "Everything okay?"

You forced a smile, trying to shake off the heaviness of the conversation. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... needed some space."

Chenle raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced, but he didn’t push. Instead, he gave a playful nudge. "Well, we’re here now, so no more pity parties. Let’s get you out of this mess.”

Jaemin studied you for a moment before speaking. "We’re here for you, Y/n. Whatever you need." You nodded, feeling a small sense of relief.

“Ooo cookies!” Chenle grabbed one without asking.

“You even ordered yourself some of your favorite cookies…oh no this is bad” Jaemin continued, shaking his head with exaggerated seriousness. "Cookies are your comfort food."

Chenle, mid-bite, paused and raised his eyebrows.

"Wait, did something happen with Jay again?" His usual playful tone shifted slightly, concern creeping in as he glanced between you and Chaeryoung.

You sighed, feeling the weight of their questions. "It's nothing. Just... the usual stuff. He got upset about me sitting next to Haechan in class again."

Jaemin’s face hardened. "Y/n, that’s not nothing. He’s been doing this for a while now. Getting jealous and picking fights. It’s not normal."

Chenle, despite the cookie in his mouth, nodded vigorously. "Exactly! Why does it even matter where you sit in class? You’re not his property."

You glanced away, not wanting to meet their eyes. The conversation was heading in the same direction as before, and you felt that familiar knot of guilt tightening in your chest.

After a moment of silence, Chaeryoung spoke up, “She didn’t even buy these cookies…guess who did.”

Chenle blinked, pausing mid-chew as he looked between you and Chaeryoung.

"Wait, are you bragging about buying cookies for a heartbroken girl?" His voice was laced with teasing. She shook her head ‘no’ and Jaemin’s eyes narrowed in curiosity.

You hesitated, feeling a twinge of discomfort as you answered quietly, "Haechan."

Jaemin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "Haechan? He bought you cookies?" His tone was a mix of disbelief and a little bit of protectiveness.

Chenle stared at the cookie in his hand, then at you, then back at the cookie. "So, you’re telling me I’m eating Haechan’s cookies? They’re probably poisoned!"

"It’s not like I asked him to," you muttered, feeling the tension rising again. "He just… did."

Chaeryeong raised an eyebrow, a knowing look in her eyes. "He didn’t say much when he saw me outside of the cafe, just told me that Y/n needed me."

Jaemin’s frown deepened. "That’s weird. Since when does Haechan care about anyone but himself?"

You shrugged, still unsure of what to make of the gesture. "I don’t know. Maybe he’s just messing with me, trying to get under my skin."

Chaeryeong smirked. "Or maybe he’s trying to get you under him!"

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah right. He’s just... being Haechan, weird."

Chaeryeong’s energy shifted immediately, her smirk softening into a more playful grin as she leaned forward, practically buzzing with excitement. "Alright, enough of this! We need to get you out of here. You’ve been drowning in all this drama for too long.”

Chenle’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, already nodding in agreement. "Yes! A night out is exactly what you need. No Jay, no Haechan—just us having fun. There is a party at Mark’s place tomorrow night." He winked, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

Jaemin, though quieter, gave a nod of approval. "It could be good for you, Y/n. A break from everything."

You hesitated, a part of you wanted to curl up at home and avoid the world, but another part knew that maybe they were right. You needed a break from all the chaos.

"Alright, fine," you sighed, feeling the weight on your chest lighten just a little. "I’ll go to Mark’s party tomorrow."

Chaeryeong clapped her hands together, practically glowing with excitement. "Yes! It’s going to be so much fun, I promise! Just good vibes, and you’ll finally get a chance to relax."

Chenle grinned, "That’s the spirit! Plus, you know, it’s always a good time at Mark’s. Who knows, maybe you’ll meet someone new…"

Jaemin shot Chenle a look, silently warning him to tone it down, but Chenle just winked at you, clearly trying to keep things light.

You chuckled, feeling a small flicker of relief. "I’m not going to a party to meet someone, Chenle."

"Maybe not," Jaemin said with a small smile, "but at least you’ll be there with your friends, and that’s what matters."

The next evening, the air was buzzing with excitement as you stood in front of the mirror, eyeing the mixture of outfits Chaeryeong had scattered across your bed. She was currently looking through your closet, tossing out options as if she were styling a fashion shoot instead of just picking something for a party.

“You need something bold but effortless,” Chaeryeong declared, holding up a black, form-fitting dress before shaking her head and discarding it. “Something that says, ‘I’m here to have fun, not to impress.’ But, you know, still impressive.”

You laughed, sitting on the edge of your bed as you watched her being dramatic. "Chaeryeong, it’s just a party. I’m not trying to walk a runway."

Chenle, lounging in the corner of your room, raised an eyebrow. "No, but you’re going to Mark’s, and there’s a difference. You’ve gotta show up looking good.”

You groaned as Chaeryeong shot you a knowing look. “You don’t want to walk in looking anything less than your best. Trust me, it’ll help you feel more in control." She pulled out a green silk dress from your closet, holding it up against you. "This. It’s perfect."

You looked at the dress, hesitant. It was beautiful. "I don’t know… it’s kind of a lot."

"Exactly," Chaeryeong said with a grin. "You need a lot. Let’s remind everyone—including you—that you’re the main character tonight."

Chenle laughed, getting up from his spot. "You heard her. Tonight is your night to shine, Y/n."

Sighing, you finally stood up and took the dress from Chaeryeong’s hands. "Fine. Let’s do it."

An hour later, you were slipping on the last of your jewelry as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. The green dress hugged your curves in all the right ways, and the satin shimmered under the soft lighting of your room. Chaeryeong had helped style your hair, soft waves falling over your shoulders, and Chenle, surprisingly, had given his input on your makeup. A bold lip to contrast the simplicity of the rest of your look.

"Wow," you whispered, half in disbelief at how different you looked.

Chaeryeong stood beside you, grinning from ear to ear.

"Told you. You look amazing."

Chenle nodded, leaning in the doorway. "Everyone is gonna wish they were with you."

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder. Would they? Would Jay? Or would you finally not care?

With a final glance in the mirror, you grabbed your bag, feeling a rush of determination. Tonight was about you.

As you made your way downstairs, the sound of music and distant chatter already filled the air. Chenle and Chaeryeong followed close behind.

Chaeryeong linked her arm with yours as you stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. “Don’t let it get to you, Y/n. Just have fun tonight. Remember, we’re here to enjoy ourselves.”

You nodded, trying to push aside the lingering thoughts of Jay and Haechan, and all the drama that seemed to follow them like a shadow. Tonight wasn’t about them—it was about you.

The drive to Mark’s place was filled with lighthearted chatter, Chenle and Chaeryeong alternating between playful bickering and hyping you up for the night ahead. But the closer you got to the party, the more you felt the familiar nerves creeping in.

“We’re here!” Chaeryeong’s voice cut through your spiraling thoughts, and you blinked as the car pulled up to Mark’s house. Music thumped from inside, and the soft glow of lights poured from the windows, illuminating the big crowd already gathered outside.

You took a deep breath as the three of you stepped out of the car, Chenle offering you a quick thumbs-up for encouragement. “Remember, main character energy. Let’s go.”

As you approached the front door, Mark himself appeared, grinning as he waved you inside. “Y/n! You made it!”

He gave you a quick, welcoming hug before greeting Chaeryeong and Chenle. “The party’s just getting started. Drinks are in the kitchen, and the backyard is open if you want to chill.”

You thanked him and followed the crowd into the house, trying to shake off the remaining nerves. The music, laughter, and the buzz of conversation washed over you, helping to melt away some of your worries. Chaeryeong handed you a drink, her eyes already sparkling.

“Let’s go find somewhere to sit!” she said over the music, pulling you toward the living room, where a few familiar faces were already lounging.

But before you could get comfortable, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the wall near the kitchen—Haechan.

He was chatting with someone, but his gaze shifted just as you entered the room. For a split second, your eyes locked, and there was a flicker of something in his expression, though you couldn’t quite read it.

“Focus on having fun,” Chaeryeong whispered in your ear, snapping you out of your daze.

You smiled at her, grateful for the reminder, and nodded. Tonight was about fun. About letting go.

Jaemin and Jeno moved to form a spot where you could sit between them. You settled down, feeling a wave of relief as the two of them immediately began chatting, creating a comfortable bubble around you. Jeno handed you a drink with a reassuring smile.

"Looking good, Y/n."

Jeno, always the more laid-back one, nudged your shoulder. "We’ll make sure you have a good time. No drama, no distractions."

You took a sip of your drink, nodding. Their presence was calming, a much-needed escape from the whirlwind of emotions you’d been feeling lately.

Chaeryeong and Chenle were already engrossed in a conversation across from you, laughing about something Chenle said, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel at ease.

Jaemin leaned in slightly, his voice low so only you could hear. "You look amazing tonight, by the way." He smiled.

You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, and before you could respond, Jeno chimed in, as if reading the moment. "Jaemin’s right. That green dress is doing wonders."

You laughed, grateful for their compliments but not wanting to dwell on it too much. "Thanks, guys. I needed this.” You took a chug from your drink.

Jaemin smiled softly. "We’re always here for you, Y/n."

You nodded, then stood up, smoothing down the hem of your dress as you glanced around the room. The music thumped louder as more people began to fill the space, and for a moment, you just stood there, letting the beat pulse through you.

"Then let’s dance," you said, gesturing toward the group of people already dancing.

Jaemin grinned, standing up and offering you his hand. "Thought you’d never ask."

Jeno followed close behind, already moving to the rhythm of the music as you all made your way to the center of the room. The bass of the music vibrated through the floor, the lights flashing in time with the beat, casting colorful patterns on the crowd around you.

As soon as you hit the dance floor, the energy shifted. The three of you fell into the rhythm easily, laughing and letting the music take over. You spun around, arms raised, carefree.

"Now this is what I like to see from you," Jaemin said, leaning close so you could hear him over the music. You laughed, spinning around again, letting the moment take over.

Your heart skipped a beat when your gaze locked with Haechan from across the room. He stood near the edge of the dance floor, leaning against the wall with his usual confident smirk. His eyes were focused intently on you, watching your every move. For a moment, everything else faded—the music, the crowd, even Jaemin and Jeno’s presence

Haechan didn’t look away. Instead, his smirk deepened, almost like he knew something you didn’t, a silent challenge hanging between you.

Jaemin nudged your arm, breaking your concentration. "Hey, you good?"

You blinked, forcing a smile and nodding. "Yeah, I’m good!”

The spot where Haechan had been standing was now empty, leaving you momentarily confused.

Jaemin noticed your brief flicker of confusion. “Looking for someone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

You shook your head quickly. "No, just... thought I saw something."

Before Jaemin could say more, Chenle swooped in, pulling you by the wrist and pulling you towards him and Chaeryeong. “Come on! No more standing around, let’s get moving!”

You let yourself be pulled into the crowd, trying to shake the image of Haechan from your mind.

Feeling a bit drained, you excused yourself from your friends and made your way to the kitchen in search of another drink. The party was packed, and the energy was starting to get overwhelming.

After a few moments of being bumped and nudged, you decided it was best to escape the chaos. With a sigh of relief, you slipped out to the backyard, hoping for a moment of peace away from the noise and crowd.

The cool night air greeted you as you stepped outside, the sounds of laughter and music fading into the background. The backyard was a welcome contrast to the chaotic energy inside. Strings of fairy lights hung above, casting a soft glow over the space and illuminating a few scattered chairs around a fire pit.

You walked toward the edge of the patio, leaning against the railing and taking a deep breath, letting the fresh air fill your lungs. The stars twinkled above like tiny diamonds, and for a moment, you lost yourself in their beauty, feeling a sense of calm wash over you.

As you took a sip of your drink, you heard the door open and someone rushed out. Turning you saw Haechan. He was searching the backyard until his eyes met yours and he sighed, walking over to you.

“What do you want?” You rolled your eyes, already knowing he wasn’t the best company.

“I know you don’t exactly like me” You scoffed as he put his hands up, telling you to wait, “But I hate cheaters, so I needed to tell you.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism written across your face. “Tell me what, exactly?”

Haechan leaned against the railing beside you, his expression serious, a stark contrast to the usual playful demeanor. “No, seriously. I just saw Jay go into a room with another girl.”

Your heart sank, the weight of his words crashing down. You took a moment to process what he was saying, anger and disbelief swirling within you.

“Are you sure? That sounds like something you would say to mess with me.”

“I get why you’d think that, but I wouldn’t lie about something like this,” Haechan replied, frustration creeping into his tone.

“I may not be your favorite person, but I wouldn’t do that. You deserve to know the truth.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening around your drink. The reality of the situation settled over you, and you could feel your heart racing.

“Which room?”

Haechan hesitated for a moment, his gaze steady. “I don’t think you want to go in there.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, the kind that felt hollow. “Just tell me which room.”

Haechan glanced at you, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “Upstairs, the second one on the right.”

You put your cup down and started to make your way back into the party in search of the stairs.

“Are you sure about this?” Haechan, who you didn’t even notice was following, asked you.

You nodded and moved quickly, your heart racing as you made your way through the crowd. The lively music and laughter faded into the background, drowned out by the storm of thoughts in your head. The dim lights seemed to press in, making your thoughts feel even more stressed.

As you reached the stairs, you hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of what you were about to confront hitting you like a ton of bricks. But the image of Jay with another girl flashed in your mind, fueling your determination. You needed answers. You needed to reclaim your dignity.

Going up the stairs, you felt your breath quicken. Each step seemed to echo with the anxiety of what lay ahead. Reaching the second door on the right, you paused, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You could hear muffled voices from inside, giggling mingling with the soft kissing.

Throwing open the door you felt the air leave your lungs in a rush, your heart dropping as the scene unfolded before you. Jay was on top of another woman, his hands tangled in her hair, their lips inches apart.

Time seemed to freeze as Jay’s eyes shot wide open, and the laughter from the girl faltered into a shocked silence.

“Y/n! I—” Jay stammered, scrambling to sit up, the realization of your presence crashing over him like a wave.

You didn’t let him finish. “What the hell is this?” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and disbelief swirling within you. The hurt was too much, twisting your stomach into knots.

The girl, wide-eyed and uncomfortable, quickly shuffled away from Jay, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson. “I didn’t know—” she started, but you cut her off.

“Save it,” you said, directing your fury back at Jay.

“After everything I’ve done for you.”

Jay stood up fully now, his expression shifting from shock to guilt. “I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” he began his voice low, almost pleading.

You turned your back towards him and rushed down the stairs. You could hear him following you. So you looked for any of your friends but couldn’t find them. Instead, your eyes connect with Haechans near the bottom of the stairs.

Rushing over to him you pull him down by his shirt and whisper “sorry” before pulling him into a heated kiss.

Haechan’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he responded, his hands finding your waist as he kissed you back with an urgency that matched your own. The chaos of the party faded into the background, the pounding music replaced by the sound of your racing heart.

But before it could get any farther, you were ripped away from Haechan by the sudden appearance of a familiar voice.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jay’s voice cut through the moment, sharp and accusatory. You turned to see him standing there, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger.

Haechan stepped back, his demeanor shifting instantly from passionate to defensive.

“Just what you were doing with that other girl,” he replied, his tone challenging. “Maybe you should have thought about that before you—”

“Don’t!” Jay interrupted, stepping toward you both.

“You have no right to act like the hero here. You don’t know what’s going on.”

“I know exactly what’s going on, so if you don’t mind we were kind of doing something”, Haechan shot back, his eyes narrowing as he stepped slightly in front of you, shielding you from Jay.

You could feel the tension in the air thickening. “Haechan, stop,” you said, placing a hand on his arm. You could see the fire in his eyes, but you didn’t want this to escalate any further.

Jay’s expression twisted with frustration. “You think you can just come in and play the knight in shining armor? She’s my fucking girlfriend!”

“And you think I care?” Haechan replied, crossing his arms defiantly. “You had your chance to treat her right, and you blew it.”

Jay shook his head, thinking about what to say next, but Jay was never good with his words so he stepped forward and swung.

Haechan barely had time to react. The punch landed squarely on his jaw, sending him stumbling back. You gasped, instinctively stepping between them, your heart racing at the sudden escalation.

“Jay, what the hell?!” you shouted, adrenaline rushing through you. “This is not how you handle things!”

Jay’s face was flushed with anger, his fists clenched at his sides. “He’s a fucking piece of shit!” he snapped, breathing heavily.

Haechan regained his composure and moved around you, delivering a swift punch to Jay's jaw. The impact echoed, and Jay staggered back, eyes wide with surprise.

As they started to throw punches back and forth, you didn’t know what to do. A group of people gathered around them.

You saw Jaemin and Jeno pushing through the crowd, their expressions a mix of alarm and confusion. “What the hell is going on?” Jaemin shouted, his voice rising above the commotion.

“Y/n, get out of the way!” Jeno called out as he reached for your arm, pulling you back. You didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel powerless while the two of them fought over you like you were some trophy for their ego.

“Stop it!” you shouted again, trying to push through the gathering crowd, but your voice was drowned out by the sound of fists connecting and the murmurs of onlookers.

Jaemin managed to get closer, stepping between Jay and Haechan. As Jeno grabbed Jay from behind to stop him from throwing any more punches.

“Both of you, enough! This isn’t the way to handle it!”

Haechan, breathing heavily, stepped back, his fists still clenched. “He deserves this, Jaemin! He cheated on her!”

Jay looked furious, “This is all his fucking fault!” He spat at Haechan.

You could see his expression begin to harden again, that familiar mask of arrogance threatening to resurface. Without thinking, you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly as you attempted to pull him away from the chaos of the crowd.

Haechan looked momentarily shocked, his eyes widening at your sudden gesture, but he didn’t resist as you led him out into the cool evening air, away from the noise. As you stepped into the front yard, you pulled out your phone and ordered an Uber.

“What are you doing?” Haechan asked, his voice low, and filled with confusion. His hand was still in yours, but he made no move to pull away, his gaze locked on your face.

You hesitated, the words caught in your throat as the reality of the moment started to sink in. What were you doing?

“I needed to get out of there,” you admitted quietly, your grip loosening slightly, but you didn’t let go.

His eyes softened, just a little, the hardness from earlier fading as he studied you.

"Okay."

Haechan sat down on the curb of the road and gestured for you to sit down next to him.

You hesitated for a moment, then quietly sat beside him on the curb, the cool pavement grounding you.

“So, how are we going to get back at him?” you asked, your voice low but edged with determination.

Haechan turned toward you, eyes narrowing in surprise. “What?”

You met his gaze, a fire igniting within you. "Jay. How are we going to make him regret everything?"

Haechan blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He studied your face for a long second as if trying to gauge whether you were serious. Then, a slow, knowing smirk curled on his lips.

“Are you sure you’re ready to play that game?” he asked, voice dripping with amusement.

You held his gaze, feeling the weight of his question sink in. Was this really what you wanted? A part of you knew it was reckless, that using Haechan to get back at Jay could only make things worse.

“I need to hurt him,” you replied, your voice steadier than you felt. “If he wants to treat me like I’m nothing, then maybe it’s time I show him I don’t need him.”

Haechan's smirk deepened, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eyes. “Alright, then. Let’s make this interesting.”

Before the two of you could come up with an actual plan, the Uber showed up. You exchanged a quick look with Haechan before giving the driver your address.

The ride was quiet, you could feel Haechan’s gaze lingering on you but you didn’t want to say anything so you settled for looking out the window.

When the car finally pulled up in front of your apartment, you stepped out, turning back to wait for him. Haechan, still sitting in the backseat, raised an eyebrow.

“What?” he asked, his voice casual, but his eyes searched yours.

You gestured for him to follow. “Come on.”

For a moment, he hesitated, as if weighing his options. Then, with a slight shrug, he climbed out of the car, closing the door behind him.

“Is there a reason you’re taking me back to your house?” Haechan teased, his tone playful as always, though his eyes held a hint of curiosity.

You shot him a glance, rolling your eyes. “Look at you. You look awful, and I know you’re not smart enough to clean an open wound.”

Haechan smirked, following you toward your apartment door. “I didn’t realize I was so lucky to have a personal nurse.”

You ignored his sarcasm, unlocking the door and stepping inside. “Just sit down and let me handle it before you get an infection.”

As he walked in, his usual cocky demeanor softened slightly. He never thought you two would be talking again. Not after he was such a huge jerk to you.

He sank onto the couch, watching you as you moved through the small space, grabbing your first aid kit from under the sink. There was an awkward quiet that hung between you two, but you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

Returning to the living room, you set the kit on the coffee table and crouched in front of him, carefully opening it up.

“You know, I can do this myself,” Haechan said, but his voice lacked its usual teasing bite.

“Yeah, sure,” you muttered, reaching for the antiseptic.

“Like I trust you not to make it worse.”

He chuckled, though there was an unspoken tension behind it. As you gently cleaned the small cuts and scrapes, you couldn’t help but notice how quiet he had become, his gaze occasionally flickering to your face.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked after a moment, his voice softer than you expected. "I didn’t punch him because of you, I did it because he’s a jerk."

You paused for a second, looking up at him, your hands still resting on him. “It’s the least I can do,” you admitted honestly. “Since you told me.”

Haechan sighed, his eyes drifting around your living room. His gaze lingered on the little details—pictures on the wall, the books stacked messily on the coffee table—before he turned back to you, something softer in his expression.

"Done," you said, pulling your hands away after finishing with his wounds.

He flexed his hand, testing the bandages, and gave you a small, almost appreciative nod. "Thanks..." His voice was low, the teasing gone entirely.

You just shrugged, trying to brush off the weight of the moment. "Don’t get used to it," you said with a small smile, but there was no real bite to your words.

Haechan met your eyes, something unreadable passing between you before he looked away again. "I owe you."

“I will remember that!” you laughed, getting up from the floor and brushing off your pants. “I’m tired, you can sleep on the couch. I’ll bring you some pillows.”

Haechan watched you with an amused expression, his eyes glinting. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t want to crash on your couch.”

“Too bad,” you shot back playfully, heading toward the closet. “You look like you need the rest after everything. Plus, I don't want to be responsible for you bleeding out.”

“Fair point,” he conceded, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

You returned with a couple of pillows and a blanket, handing them to him. “Here you go.”

“Wow, you are going all out,” he teased, settling into the couch, clearly enjoying this.

“Do I get breakfast too, or is that pushing it?”

“Don’t push your luck,” you replied with a mock glare.

“You can make yourself breakfast. Just don’t burn the place down.”

Haechan quietly laughed before getting comfortable on the couch, sinking into the pillows you had brought him. His relaxed posture seemed to shift the atmosphere in the room, making it feel more relaxed.

“Just so you know,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow, “this isn’t going to become a regular thing. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“Right, the infamous Haechan, the bad boy who no one can take seriously.” you teased, rolling your eyes as you left to go to your room.

As you closed the door to your room, you leaned against it for a moment, allowing yourself to breathe.

You tossed your phone onto the bed and plopped down beside it. After a moment, you set a timer for the morning, letting exhaustion pull you into sleep.

Morning light filtered through your curtains, you stirred as your alarm beeped. Blinking sleep from your eyes, you stretched and glanced at the clock. You had meant to wake up early, but the memories of last night lingered in your mind, making it hard to move.

You climbed out of bed, the floor cool against your feet, and made your way to the bathroom. After quickly brushing your teeth and throwing on some comfortable clothes, you headed toward the kitchen, the smell of coffee filling the room.

You found the blanket neatly folded on the couch and the pillows stacked up next to it, but no sign of Haechan. A small frown formed on your face. But what did you expect? You weren’t friends just because he fought your ex. He said it himself that it wasn’t for you. He just wanted an excuse to hit Jay.

Pushing the thought aside, you took a deep breath and focused on getting ready for class. You stepped into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water to shake off the remnants of sleep. After putting on some makeup and brushing your hair, you throw on a comfortable pair of jeans and an oversized sweater.

As you walked back into your bedroom, you noticed your phone lighting up with a message. You grabbed it, and messages from your friends filled your phone.

Chenle: THAT WAS CRAZY!! ARE YOU OKAY??

Jaemin: Hey, let me know when you’re home!! <3

Jaemin: You probably fell asleep, let me know when you are awake <3

Jeno: Are you okay? Jaemin and I took care of the problem (⪰∀⪯）

Chaeryeong: I saw you leave with Haehcan!! GURRL YOU NEED TO TELL ME EVERYTHING!!

After a moment, you replied to everyone letting them know you were okay.

With your bag slung over your shoulder. You walked towards campus, your mind still racing with thoughts about Haechan.

When you arrived, you navigated through the crowd of students, your mind drifting between the classes you had lined up for the day.

As you made your way to your first lecture, you spotted a familiar face across the quad. It was your friend, Chaeryeong, waving enthusiastically. You quickened your pace to meet her.

“Y/n! There you are!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a quick hug. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming to class!”

“You know I can’t afford to miss a class,” you laugh.

“Okay, I’ve waited enough! Tell me everything!” she said, her eyes sparkling with curiosity as you both walked towards the lecture hall.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Well, Haechan stayed over last night after everything that happened with Jay.”

Chaeryeong raised her eyebrows, a teasing grin spreading across her face. “Oh? Look at you getting cozy with the enemy!”

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t hide your smile. “It’s not like that. I felt bad, dragging him into all of this.”

“He was always in this,” she said, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You nodded, the weight of her words settling in your mind. “I know, but this doesn’t mean we are friends.”

Chaeryeong shook her head, and the two of you entered the lecture hall, finding your seats. As the professor began speaking, you turned to whisper to Chaeryoung, leaning in slightly to keep your conversation discreet.

“Let’s not tell the guys about me going home with Haechan... I don’t want them to get the wrong idea.”

Chaeryoung nodded and turned back to focus on the lecture.

“I’m going to go eat something, I didn’t get to have breakfast,” you said, rubbing your stomach lightly to emphasize your point.

“You’re so lucky to have a break between classes” Chaeryoung groaned, “I have two more classes before I can even get food.”

“You’re the one that wanted all morning classes”

“Yeah because the night is for parting not for studying.” Chaeryoung rolled her eyes.

You shoved her playfully before splitting up and heading towards the café and sitting in the same spot you did last time.

“Okay, you have to stop stealing my spot,” an annoyingly familiar voice said, breaking your focus from the menu. You looked up to find Haechan standing there, an amused smile on his face.

You raised an eyebrow, faking annoyance. “Still doesn’t have your name on it. This is a public café.”

“Sure, but you know it’s my favorite spot,” he retorted, sliding into the seat next to you. “I always sit here to people-watch between classes.”’

You couldn’t help but laugh at his mock-serious expression. “I don’t care right now, I’m starving.”

He chuckled, glancing at the menu before leaning back in his chair. “What are you getting?.”

“I was thinking about a bagel and some coffee,” you replied, glancing over the options again.

“Boring,” he declared dramatically, shaking his head. “Get the avocado toast. It’s amazing here.”

You rolled your eyes. “So you can steal it? You’re not even hiding your motives.”

He shrugged, an innocent look plastered on his face. “What can I say? I have exquisite taste.”

“Exquisite taste?” you repeated, unable to suppress a laugh. “That’s a big word for you.”

“You’re supposed to be nicer to me now!” he pouted, crossing his arms over his chest. “I did rescue you from that jerk, remember?”

“Rescue is a strong word,” you countered, trying to keep a straight face. “You threw a punch….and then I had to pull you away.”

“Details, details,” he said, waving a hand dismissively.

You leaned back in your chair, pretending to consider. “I’ll get an order for two avocado toasts.”

“Really?!” he exclaimed, eyes lighting up with excitement.

You gestured for him to get up so you could slide out of the booth. “Yeah, but only because you’re annoying and I don’t want to hear you complain. But you’re coming with me to order it.”

“Yay!” Haechan stood up and followed you to the counter, the playful banter continuing as you both approached the register.

As you placed the order, he leaned against the counter, watching you with a teasing smile. “What if I said I wanted extra everything? You’re still paying?”

You laughed, shaking your head as the barista rang up your order. “Is that all?”

You nodded your head, “Yep, that’s all.” You reached into your pocket for your card, but before you could find it, Haechan pulled out his and handed it to the barista.

“Hey, what are you doing?” you protested.

“Just treating you to breakfast,” he said nonchalantly, leaning against the counter as if it was no big deal.

“Why?” You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “For what? You were the one who punched my ex, remember?”

“Exactly,” he replied with a smirk. “I’ve been wanting to mess up his face for a while!”

The barista handed Haechan back his card, and he turned to you with a victorious grin.

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, I’ll let you have this one. But only because I’m starving.”

As you both moved to the side to wait for your order, the door to the café bell rang. You looked to the side and saw it was Jay and his friends.

“Shit!” you mumbled under your breath, your stomach sinking as you tried to think of an escape plan.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as Jay’s laughter echoed through the café. He spotted you almost immediately, his expression turning sour.

You could see him making his way to you, so you did the only thing that felt like it would hurt him.

You grabbed Haechan’s shirt, pulling him closer to you as you leaned in, pressing your lips against his in a quick, aggressive kiss.

Haechan froze for a moment, clearly taken aback. But he quickly recovered, wrapping an arm around your waist and kissing you back.

The reaction was immediate. Jay’s expression shifted from confusion to fury, his friends exchanging glances as the tension in the room skyrocketed. You could feel Haechan smirking against your lips, clearly enjoying the situation.

As you pulled away, Haechan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Didn’t know paying for your lunch would make you want to kiss me,” he asked, while a grin tugged at his lips.

“Jay is here,” you whispered, low enough so no one else could hear you.

Jay’s glare burned into you, and he scoffed, crossing his arms. “You think that’s going to make me jealous? You’re pathetic.”

You felt a rush of boldness. “If you’re so over it, why do you care?” you shot back, feeling bold because of Haechan’s presence.

Jay opened his mouth to respond, but before he could say anything further, Haechan stepped in front of you, his posture protective. “You really should find a new hobby, Jay. This isn’t working for you,” he said, his tone calm yet firm.

Jay’s face turned a shade redder, his boldness faltering. “Whatever. I don’t need this.” He turned on his heel, storming out with his friends trailing behind, their laughter fading as they exited the café.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, glancing up at Haechan. “He was so mad.”

Haechan chuckled, his eyes still sparkling with amusement. “I have a plan!”

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but curious. “Oh no, should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” Haechan replied, that mischievous grin still playing on his lips. “But if you want to make him furious, we’re going to have to turn it up a notch.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” you asked cautiously, folding your arms.

“Simple,” he said, leaning in conspiratorially. “We pretend that we are hooking up. Just for a little while. You know how much it’ll eat at him.”

Your eyes widened. “You can’t be serious.”

“Why not?” Haechan shrugged, clearly enjoying the drama of it all.

“It’ll be fun. And the look on his face when he realizes you’ve completely moved on? Priceless.”

You paused, considering it for a moment. As ridiculous as it sounded, the idea had some appeal. Jay seeing you with someone else, especially Haechan, would drive him nuts. And the more you thought about it, the more tempting it became.

“Okay, let’s say I go along with this,” you began slowly. “What’s in it for you?”

Haechan’s grin widened. “I get to have the time of my life watching Jay go insane.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, it’s genius,” Haechan said, leaning back against the counter with a self-satisfied smirk. “

We’ll be the hottest ‘couple’ in the room, and Jay won’t know what hit him.”

You bit your lip, still hesitant but intrigued by the idea. “Fine,” you finally said. “But don’t get any ideas. This is strictly for show.”

Haechan held up his hands in mock surrender. “Of course. Strictly business. But trust me, this is going to be fun.”

After finishing lunch with Haechan, you went through the rest of your day—attending lectures, trying to focus, but your mind kept drifting back to the café incident.

Haechan’s ridiculous plan echoed in your head, and you couldn't help but replay Jay's angry expression over and over again.

By the time your classes were over, you were mentally exhausted. Having dinner with your friends sounded like a nice break after a hectic day. As you approached the dining hall, you spotted Chaeryeong waving you over to the usual table where the others were already gathered—Jaemin, Jeno, and Chenle.

You slid into the seat next to Chaeryeong, who immediately gave you a curious glance. “So, how was the rest of your day?”

“Eventful,” you said with a sigh.

Jaemin perked up, overhearing the exchange. “Eventful?”

You hesitated, not sure how much to share. “Just... ran into Jay and his friends at lunch.”

The table went quiet for a second before Chenle raised an eyebrow. “And?”

“And... Haechan was there,” you added, not wanting to dive into all the details.

Chenle laughed, breaking the tension. “Oh man, I bet that was awkward.”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, exchanging a glance with Chaeryeong, who seemed to already know there was more to the story.

Jeno, who had been quiet, finally spoke up. “What did Haechan do?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could say anything, Jaemin cut in.

“Wait, wait—are you guys friends now?”

You paused, unsure how to answer that question, especially with Haechan’s ridiculous plan in the back of your mind. “Not... exactly,” you said vaguely.

Jeno looked confused. “What does that even mean?”

Chaeryeong, always the perceptive one, smirked slightly but stayed quiet, watching the situation unfold.

You shrugged. “It just means things are complicated. Let’s just eat.”

But you could tell from the looks on your friends' faces that this wasn’t the last you’d hear about Haechan and Jay.

Your phone rang, and you glanced down, spotting Haechan’s name on the screen. You sighed, already bracing yourself for whatever chaos he was about to bring into your life.

“What do you want?” you asked as you answered, your voice laced with mock annoyance.

“Party this weekend,” Haechan's voice was full of excitement. “We need to go! Everyone’s going to be there.”

You rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “And why, exactly, do I need to go to this party?”

“What, you don’t want to kiss me again,” he said with a teasing tone. “Plus, everyone is going to be there so it’s perfect.”

You could already imagine him grinning on the other end of the line, fully expecting you to give in. “Haechan, I’m not exactly in the mood for another party.”

“Come on,” he whined. “It’s not just any party. Jay’s gonna be there.”

“Fine, okay,” you finally said, giving in with a sigh. You could practically hear the grin in Haechan's voice.

“Perfect! I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday. You’re not going to regret it, trust me.”

“I’m already regretting this,” you muttered, but a small part of you was excited. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad—if nothing else, you’d get a chance to make Jay uncomfortable, and that was starting to sound more appealing.

“Just make sure you’re ready,” Haechan added. “And wear something… you know, sexy.”

“Sexy?” you repeated skeptically.

“You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone light and teasing. “See you then!”

As the call ended, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. This party could either be a disaster or the perfect chance to move on from Jay and get a little revenge. Either way, things were about to get interesting.

The week flew by in a blur of classes, assignments, and quick meals with friends. Before you knew it, Friday had arrived, and you found yourself staring at your closet, trying to figure out what Haechan meant by "something sexy."

You groaned, pulling out outfit after outfit, none of them feeling right. Tonight wasn’t just any night. If Jay was going to be at this party, you wanted to make him regret cheating on you.

You gave up, settling on a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. As you finished getting ready, you glanced at the time. Almost eight.

Just as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you heard a knock on your door. Taking one last look in the mirror, you grabbed your jacket and opened the door.

“Took you long enough!” Haechan teased, eyeing your outfit with a dramatic shake of his head.

“What?” you asked, already sensing the criticism coming.

“This won’t do,” he said with exaggerated disappointment. Before you could protest, he sighed and gently pushed you back into the house. “Where’s your closet?”

“Haechan, I’m not changing!” you called after him as he made a beeline for your bedroom.

“You are if you want to make everyone jealous,” he insisted, already rummaging through your clothes as if he owned the place. “Jeans and a black T-shirt? Come on, Y/n, we’re supposed to be putting on a show.”

You rolled your eyes, half-amused, half-annoyed. “My outfit doesn't matter.”

He grinned, pulling out a sleek black dress you had tucked away. “This is perfect.”

You hesitated for a second, glancing at the dress. It was short, definitely not what you had planned, but you had to admit, Haechan had a point.

You sighed, eyeing the dress Haechan held up. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replied, his grin widening as he shoved the dress into your hands. “Come on, Y/n. You want to show Jay what he’s missing, right?”

You hesitated for a moment longer, looking between Haechan and the dress. You wouldn’t ever wear that if you were just going out with your friends. You didn’t have the confidence, but Haechan somehow gave you confidence.

“Fine,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you snatched the dress from him. “But if this goes wrong, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” Haechan smirked, plopping down on your bed and crossing his arms. “I’ll take full responsibility.”

You disappeared into the bathroom, slipping into the dress and staring at yourself in the mirror. It was outside your usual comfort zone, you couldn’t deny you looked good.

Stepping out, you found Haechan waiting, his eyes widening slightly. For a moment, there was no teasing grin, just a flicker of surprise before he quickly masked it.

“See? Now this is how you get everyone’s attention,” he said, standing up. “Jay’s gonna be so jealous.”

His eyes lingered on you a little too long, and the sudden intenseness made you feel exposed. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to shield the self-consciousness creeping up.

Haechan reached out gently, his fingers brushing against your wrists as he pulled your arms away from your body.

“Hey, none of that,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly tender. “You look amazing. Own it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. His usual playful arrogance was replaced with something… different, almost like he wanted you to feel confident tonight. The teasing smirk was still there, but his eyes held something deeper.

“You think this is gonna work?” you asked, trying to ignore the flutter in your chest.

Haechan grinned, his usual swagger returning as he let go of your arms. “Oh, it’s definitely going to work. Jay’s not going to know what hit him. And more importantly, you’re going to have the best time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to match Haechan’s confidence. “Okay, let’s go before I change my mind.”

“Relax, we’re gonna have fun.” Haechan shot you a wink before opening the door.

“Trust me.”

And for some reason, in that moment, you kind of did.

The party was in full swing by the time you and Haechan arrived. The music was loud, the lights were flashing, and the air was thick.

“Hold on for a moment, I need to find Mark really quick” Haechan immediately disappeared into the crowd, leaving you on your own. You should have known you two wouldn’t have stayed together the whole night.

You made your way to the kitchen, needing a moment to collect yourself before facing Jay. As you poured yourself a drink, a familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Well, well, well, look who it is.”

You turned to see Jay leaning against the counter, a smug smile on his face. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“Surprised to see me?” you shot back, taking a sip of your drink.

“Not at all,” Jay replied, his eyes trailing over your figure. “Although I must say, this wasn’t exactly what I expected.”

“You don’t get to have any expectations,” You snapped, trying to sound confident despite not feeling it. “I wear what I want.”

Jay chuckled, leaning in closer. “You never wore that when I was with you.”

“Past tense,” you emphasized, setting your drink down with more force than necessary. “Things change, Jay. Clearly.”

His smile paused for a moment before he masked it with a shrug. “Finally got bored of that douchebag.”

“Yeah, but I guess he hasn’t taken the hint since he’s right here, talking to me.”

Jay's smug expression deepened, but you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down.

“Y/N?” His tone was dripping with arrogance. “Do you think Haechan is any better than me? He’s just having fun with you until he gets bored.”

You felt the sting of his words, but you weren’t going to let him get to you. You leaned in slightly, your voice steady.

“Maybe. But at least he’s better in bed.”

Jay's jaw tightened, clearly not expecting that response. He opened his mouth to say something, but a voice cut through the tension.

“This is just sad,” Haechan's voice rang out as he walked over, a cool smirk playing on his lips. “She already found someone better.”

Jay straightened up, glaring at Haechan, but didn’t say anything. The silence between the three of you was heavy, but you could sense that Jay was weighing his options. After a beat, he scoffed and stepped back.

“You’re not worth my time,” Jay muttered, giving you one last look before turning on his heel and storming out of the kitchen.

As soon as he was gone, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Haechan gave you a sideways glance, his smirk softening into something almost... concerned.

“You alright?” he asked, leaning casually against the counter as if nothing had happened.

You nodded, still feeling the adrenaline from the confrontation. “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks.”

Haechan raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Good. Because I have a better idea for the rest of the night. Let’s make him regret ever speaking to you.”

You blinked at him, intrigued. “What are you planning now?”

Haechan grinned, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’ll see. But first, we need more drinks to loosen up.”

Haechan’s grin widened as he grabbed two cups from the counter, handing one to you. You hesitated, still feeling the lingering tension from your run-in with Jay, but something about the way Haechan looked at you made it impossible to say no.

“Let’s party,” he said, raising his cup.

You clinked your cup against him, taking a sip before following him back into the crowded living room. The music pulsed through the space, people dancing and talking in tight clusters. Haechan was already scanning the room, clearly looking for the next move.

“What exactly is this plan of yours?” you asked, trying to read his expression.

He shot you a playful look. “Oh, it’s simple. We just need to make it look like we’re having the best time ever—together. You know, give Jay a little show.” He winked, clearly enjoying himself.

You couldn’t help but laugh. “So, you plan to make Jay jealous again?”

“Exactly,” Haechan said, pulling you closer to him as a new song began to play. “Let’s see how he likes watching us have all the fun.”

Before you could protest, Haechan spun you around, guiding you into the makeshift dance floor. The bass vibrated under your feet as he moved effortlessly, a confident smirk still plastered on his face. Despite yourself, you found yourself laughing, his energy contagious. You couldn’t deny how easy it was to get swept up in the moment with him.

As the two of you danced, you noticed Jay standing across the room, watching with a clenched jaw. It was clear that Haechan’s plan was working. You caught Jay’s eye for a split second before deliberately looking away, focusing entirely on Haechan. The warmth of his hand on your waist and the way he smiled at you as if no one else mattered, made you forget about everything for a moment.

“See?” Haechan said, leaning close to your ear, his voice barely audible over the music. “Told you it would work.”

You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Jay pushing his friends away and keeping his eyes on you two, clearly frustrated. You grinned. “Maybe you’re right. But don’t let it go to your head.”

Haechan chuckled, spinning you again before pulling you close. “Too late for that.”

Haechan leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Are you ready for the real show?” You nodded as Haechan started to lead you out of the crowd.

As Haechan started to lead you up the stairs, your heart was pounding. The noise from the party below faded slightly with each step, leaving just the two of you in a quiet bubble. His hand remained firmly on your hips, his grip surprisingly reassuring despite the teasing smirk still playing on his lips.

”He’s following us.” Haechan whispered as he led you into a room, purposely leaving the door slightly open.

Your heart skipped a beat as Haechan whispered those words, confirming what you had suspected. Jay was trailing behind, just as Haechan had expected.

Once inside the dimly lit room, Haechan stood in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. He motioned for you to stand near the bed, his smirk fading into something more serious, though his playfulness never completely disappeared.

“We're putting on a show, right?” he murmured, keeping his voice low. "Might as well give him something to really lose his mind over."

Your breath caught in your throat as you processed his words. This whole thing was a game—one meant to drive Jay crazy—but there was something in the way Haechan was looking at you now that made it feel a little too real.

The faint sound of footsteps approaching the door pulled you out of your thoughts. Jay was getting closer, tension growing thicker with each passing second.

Without thinking, you took a step toward Haechan. He raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting to see what you would do next.

You reached up, touching the side of his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. His eyes locked with yours, full of unspoken words. At that moment, you knew this was more than just a plan to him.

"You're right," you whispered, your voice barely above a murmur. "It's time for the real show."

Haechan's eyes widened slightly at your words, his breath hitching in anticipation. Without another word, you took a step closer and then another, until you were just inches apart. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, and it was intoxicating.

As Jay reached the door and saw the two of you so close together, he froze, unable to look away from the scene unfolding before him. It was clear that he had never expected things to go this far.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as you leaned in, closing the gap between you and Haechan. His lips met yours in a rush of heat and urgency.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist and pull you into him even closer, deepening the kiss even more.

As your lips moved together, you could sense Haechan's eagerness, his fingers trailing along your skin as if trying to memorize every inch of you.

You felt Haechan’s hands grip your waist a little harder than before as he pushed you softly onto the bed.

The room seemed to spin around you as Haechan hovered over you, his gaze intense and filled with a raw hunger that sent shivers down your spine. Jay's shocked silence from the doorway only added to the adrenaline.

Haechan's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses as he peppered more along your collarbone.

A soft gasp escaped your lips as Haechan's hands roamed over your body.

Haechan pulled away slightly to look into your eyes. Once he saw that you weren’t uncomfortable, he grabbed the bottom of your dress and moved it up slightly to expose more skin.

Haehcan groaned slightly as he saw your panties were starting to get wet.

“Mmm all for me?” He traced his fingers along the edge of your lace underwear before looking back up at you with a teasing smile that made your heart race even faster than it already was.

You nodded slightly in response and bit your lower lip nervously.

“Use your words, princess. Haechan murmured, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"Yes," you whispered, your voice barely audible above a murmur. "All for you."

The words sent a wave of pleasure through Haechan's body as he leaned down, his lips just brushing against your neck, sending more chills down your spine.

"You’re such a good girl for me," Haechan growled, his voice low with lust.

Before you could respond, he pulled your dress up further, exposing even more of your body completely to him. His eyes lingered on your panties for a moment before he pulled them aside, gently tracing the outer edges of your folds with his finger.

A soft moan escaped your lips as Haechan’s finger brushed against your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Haechan,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Haechan smirked, his eyes never leaving yours.

He leaned down, slowly tracing his tongue along the outline of your panties before pulling them off completely.

You shivered as he gently blew on your heated skin.

“You ready?” Haechan murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You couldn’t speak, could barely breathe, but you nodded quickly, desperate for more of his touch.

Haechan gently pushed your legs apart, revealing yourself to him completely. He stared at you for a moment, taking in every detail of your aroused body before leaning down to kiss your inner thigh.

His lips were warm and soft, sending shivers through you with every touch. As he trailed kisses higher and higher, your breath hitched.

A soft moan escaped from between your lips as Haechan's tongue flicked against the sensitive lips. He continued to tease you, his touch never quite reaching the place you desperately wanted him to be.

You squirmed beneath him, desperate for his touch, but he refused to give in. The teasing was almost unbearable. Your heart raced as you felt him moving closer, but still, he denied you.

Finally, just when you thought you couldn't take it any longer, Haechan pushed your legs further apart and dove between them without holding back. His tongue danced across your heated skin as he explored every inch of you.

Your back arched off the bed as you felt him start to get hard on your leg. You threw your head back, gasping for air as a wave of pleasure hit you.

Haechan continued, his tongue never faltering in its job to bring you to a place of pleasure. You felt amazing.

It wasn't long before the pleasure became too much to bear. A strong climax exploded through you.

You moaned his name, the sound echoing through the room as you came apart in his arms, your entire body shaking uncontrollably.

Once your body has relaxed, your breaths came in ragged gasps as you tried to catch your breath.

Haechan laid beside you, his eyes locked on your face as he continued to pant softly.

As you came back down to earth you got up from the bed, making Haechan sit up to watch what you were doing.

You got onto your knees right in front of him.

"Now it’s your turn," you said softly, your eyes meeting his. You could see the hunger in Haechan's eyes, causing you to squeeze your thighs together.

Haechan raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief lurking in his expression.

As he sat there, his gaze locked on yours, he slowly undid his jeans, letting them fall to the floor.

You couldn't help but gaze at him as he stood there before you, every inch of him screaming for your touch.

Your heart raced as you reached out to touch him, your fingers tracing a path down his chest and onto his stomach.

He shivered as your touch reached his stomach, but he didn't stop you. You continued to explore every inch of him, your fingers tracing the definition of his muscles, feeling the heat radiating from his skin.

As you reached the waistband of his boxers, you hesitated for a moment, uncertainty playing in your mind. But Haechan's eyes never left yours, urging you on.

With a deep breath, your hand dipped beneath the waistband, your fingers brushing against him. A soft moan escaped his lips, his eyes flickering shut for a moment before he opened them again, meeting yours once more.

You wrapped your hand around him gently, feeling him grow harder in your grasp. The warmth from him was intoxicating.

As you began to stroke him slowly, his eyes searched yours.

With a soft nod, you conveyed your permission through your eyes. And Haechan's gaze darkened, and his hunger became more pronounced. He reached out and slid your dress up and off, his fingers tracing down your arms as he removed it.

As the garment fell away, Haechan pulled you closer and gently moved your hair away from his face.

You moved closer to him as you licked the tip of his length.

Haechan let out a soft groan as your tongue flicked against him. You took him into your mouth slowly, savoring the taste of him. Haechan's eyes fluttered shut as you moved your tongue.

Haechan let out a small gasp as he hit the back of your throat, enjoying every second of it. You swirl your tongue around him.

He watched you intently, his eyes drinking at the sight of you on your knees before him, your hair falling down your back.

You lapped at him gently, your tongue tracing circles around his head. Haechan's hands gripped your hair tight, his knuckles turning white as he tried to hold onto something in this moment.

As you felt him start to thrust into your mouth, you took him deeper, your throat contracting around him as he began to lose control.

Haechan groaned loudly, his hands gripping your hair tighter, pulling you deeper into himself. His hips bucked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tense as he was looking for his release.

You could feel his arousal growing more intense within your grasp. The sight of Haechan losing control above you sent shivers down your spine.

Finally, with a loud groan, Haechan thrust deep into your throat, a wave of pleasure washing over him as he came.

You felt his hot seed fill your throat, and the sensation was overwhelming.

Your body shook as Haechan's release flooded your senses, and you savored every moment of it. As he began to soften, you gently withdrew from him, the evidence of what happened dripping from your lips.

Haechan's eyes fluttered open, and he pulled you into his arms, his mind blurred with pleasure. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the contours of your mouth, tasting himself on you.

As the two of you pulled away from each other you looked at the door and noticed Jay was gone. Not even noticing that he left.

You exchanged a knowing look with Haechan, both of you smiling. It seemed like the plan worked.

As you disentangled yourselves from each other, Haechan glanced down at your still-dripping lips. "We should probably clean up," he said, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, feeling heat in your cheeks as you headed back to the bathroom that was connected to the room.

As you cleaned up, you couldn't help but start to feel a little embarrassed. But Haechan's gentle touch and reassuring words made you feel at ease once again. He helped you clean up, his hands moving gently over your body as he wiped away the evidence of what just happened.

As the water ran into the sink, the two of you stood close, your eyes meeting in the mirror above.

When you were finished cleaning up, Haechan led you back to the bed, making sure to shut the door this time before making himself comfortable in bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. You could feel his heart beating against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

"Get some sleep," he whispered, his voice barely a murmur.

“We can’t stay here.” You whispered back, your voice laced with a hint of anxiety.

Haechan's arms tightened around you, his grip comforting and reassuring. “It’s Mark’s room, I already asked if we could use it.”

You sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. It wasn't the most ideal situation, but it was better than going home this tired.

As you snuggled closer to Haechan, you felt a sense of peace wash over you.

"Thank you," you hum.

Haechan whispered back, “Shhh don’t thank me."

Soon after, the two of you fell into a deep sleep, wrapped up in each other's arms and drifting off to the sound of each other's breathing. And as you slept, the two of you knew that whatever was going on between you just got a lot more serious.

As you slumped into your seat at the dining hall, Chenle grinned at you from across the table. “Why do you look like you just went through hell?”

You glared at him. “Thanks, Chenle. Needed that today.”

Before you could respond, Jaemin chimed in with a smug look. “She went to Mark’s party last night.”

Your eyes widened, taken aback by how he knew. “Wait, how did you—?”

“Life360,” Jaemin said, cutting you off with a proud grin. “I check everyone’s location before I go to sleep.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Of course you do.”

Chaeryeong, who had been quietly listening, suddenly leaned forward, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Hold up…are we just going to ignore the fact that you went to Mark’s party without us?”

You sighed, already sensing the upcoming interrogation. “Guys, it’s not a big deal—”

“Please tell me you didn’t go with Jay!” Jaemin interjected, shaking his head like he couldn’t even believe it.

“No!” you snapped back, fed up with hearing his name.

“Then who?” Jeno asked, leaning in with curiosity.

You hesitated, looking around the table before mumbling, “Haechan…”

The silence that followed was loud. Chaeryeong’s jaw dropped while Chenle and Jeno exchanged glances. Jaemin was the first to break the silence, raising an eyebrow.

“Haechan? Seriously?”

The table went silent again, all eyes turning to you as your last word hung in the air.

“Haechan?” Chaeryeong echoed, leaning forward with a mischievous grin. “You went to a party with Haechan and didn’t tell us?”

You groaned, running a hand over your face. “It wasn’t like that.”

Chenle smirked, clearly entertained. “I don’t know… going to a party together, leaving us out of the loop—seems kinda suspicious.”

You groaned again, feeling their eyes on you like a shot light.

“It’s not what you think!”

“Then you better start explaining,” Chaeryeong said, crossing her arms. “Because we all know how this sounds.”

“I didn’t even plan to go! He convinced me at the last minute,” you defended yourself, glancing around the table. “And then Jay showed up, so Haechan… helped me avoid him.”

Jeno let out a small laugh. “So Haechan was your knight in shining armor, again?”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes. “He just wanted to mess with Jay. It wasn’t about me.”

“Still,” Chaeryeong leaned in, lowering her voice dramatically, “Did you spend the night with him?”

Instead of responding, you groaned and buried your face in your hands, too exhausted to deal with the flood of questions.

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically. “Oh my God! You did sleep with him, didn’t you?!”

Your head snapped up, eyes wide. “I promise it was all part of a plan!”

Jaemin raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “A plan? What kind of plan involves you sleeping with Haechan?”

Chenle leaned forward, clearly intrigued. “Yeah, I’m dying to hear this one.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “We knew Jay would hate it, okay? It wasn’t supposed to mean anything.”

Chaeryeong’s eyes widened even more. “Wait—So how did Jay know you two slept together?!”

“Well— um, he was right outside the door…”

Chaeryeong’s jaw practically dropped to the floor. “Wait. Wait. Jay heard you two through the door?!”

You squirmed in your seat, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares. “Not just heard us...”

Jaemin sighed, running a hand through his hair. “He watched you two have sex?!”

Chenle, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “I didn’t know you were into that,”

”I’m not!” You tried to defend yourself, “and it wasn’t even full-on sex!”

Chenle let out a high-pitched laugh, and Jeno shook his head, “Let me get this straight…You gave Haechan a blowjob while Jay was watching…”

“I mean if you put it like that it sounds weird…”

Chaeryeong gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with both hands, her eyes wide with shock and amusement. “Oh my God, Y/n!”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands again. “It wasn’t like that!” you tried to explain, your voice muffled by your hands. “It just… happened!”

Chenle was practically doubled over with laughter, wiping a tear from his eye. “Honestly, this is the best thing I’ve heard all week.”

Jeno sighed, trying to hold back his grin. “Okay, but seriously, what are you going to do now? You can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I know.”

Jaemin looked at you sympathetically, his voice softer now. “Do you like him?”

You took a deep breath and didn’t answer.

The table fell silent, everyone waiting for your response. You could feel their eyes on you, especially Jaemin, as he leaned in slightly, waiting for you to speak.

Finally, you exhaled, avoiding their gazes. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

“It’s all so confusing. I didn’t expect any of this to happen, and now… I don’t know how I feel.”

Chaeryeong, always the first to jump in, sighed dramatically. “Well, if you don’t know, that’s already saying something. Maybe there’s more to this than you think.”

Chenle, now composed from his earlier laughing fit, added, “Honestly if it was just to get back at Jay, you wouldn’t be this torn up about it.”

Jeno nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You’ve got to figure out if this was just a one-time thing or if there’s something between you and Haechan.”

Jaemin stayed quiet, his eyes searching for yours. “It’s okay to not have all the answers yet,” he said gently. “But don’t ignore how you’re feeling just because it’s complicated.”

You groaned, “I’m just going to pretend like nothing happened and avoid him.”

The group groaned in unison, making you roll your eyes.

“That’s what we said not to do, Y/n,” Jeno said, shaking his head. “You can’t just avoid the guy forever.”

Chaeryeong crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. “And you know Haechan. He’s not exactly the type to let things go.”

Chenle leaned forward, grinning mischievously. “Plus, avoiding him will just make him chase you even more.” You sighed, slumping in your chair.

Jaemin gave you a soft smile, his eyes kind. “Whatever you decide, we’re here for you. Just… don’t run away from it. If you need time, take it, but don’t bury your feelings.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of their advice. “Okay, fine. I’ll talk to him… eventually.”

The group exchanged knowing looks, but no one pushed you further. At least, not yet.

It’s settled, you're going to avoid him. But of course, that didn’t go as smoothly as you hoped. Every time you tried to slip past him, he somehow spotted you first. It became a game of cat and mouse.

The awkwardness grew with each interaction, especially when you’d catch his eyes from across a room and immediately turn to flee. And as if that weren’t bad enough, your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Texts, missed calls, even voice messages. Haechan was relentless.

“Y/n, can we talk? This is ridiculous.”

“Avoiding me isn’t gonna make this disappear.”

“At least hear me out before running.”

You groaned every time your phone lit up with his name. The tension built up so much that even your friends were getting fed up with your avoidance tactic.

“I told you he wouldn’t just drop it,” Chenle teased, scrolling through his phone as you sat together in the library.

Jaemin, who was sitting next to you, gave a gentle nudge. “You can’t keep this up forever, Y/n.”

You knew they were right, but the idea of actually facing Haechan—after everything—felt overwhelming. What would you even say? What did he want to say? The questions kept swirling in your mind, making it harder to act.

A small cough interrupted your thoughts, snapping you back to the present. You glanced up to see Haechan standing a few feet away, his arms crossed over his chest and a determined look on his face. The library was quiet, and it felt like the world had paused at that moment.

“How?” You looked back at your two friends who tried not to make eye contact with you.

”Traitors…” You mumbled.

“Can we talk?” he asked, his voice steady but it was laced with a hint of vulnerability.

You felt your heart race, the urge to run was almost overwhelming. “Not here,” you managed to reply, glancing nervously at your friends who were pretending to be absorbed in their work.

Haechan stepped closer, lowering his voice. “I’m not trying to make this awkward, but avoiding me isn’t helping either. Can we go outside? Just for a minute?”

You hesitated, torn between wanting to confront your feelings and wanting to run away. The library felt suffocating, and with each passing moment, it seemed you had no choice but to face the situation head-on.

“Fine,” you said, the word slipping out before you could second-guess yourself. You stood up, feeling your friends’ eyes on you as you walked past Haechan and out of the library.

Once outside, the crisp air hit you, momentarily clearing your head. Haechan followed closely, and you turned to face him, arms crossed defensively.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to sound braver than you felt.

“I want to explain,” he said, his expression earnest.

“What happened that night… it wasn’t just a plan to get back at your ex for me.”

You swallowed hard, caught off guard by the intensity of his gaze. “Then what was it?” you challenged, unwilling to let him off the hook so easily.

“It was confusing. You’re confusing,” he replied, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “But I can’t stop thinking about you. I miss you…”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy. You felt your heart flutter despite your better judgment. “One chance,” you said finally, your voice steady but low.

“You get one chance.”

Haechan’s eyes widened slightly, surprise flickering across his features. “One chance? That’s it?” he asked, his tone a mix of disbelief and hope.

“Yeah,” you nodded, crossing your arms defiantly.

He took a step closer, “All I need is one date, and you will be hooked,” he stated, a confident smirk playing on his lips.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Is that so? You think it’ll be that easy to impress me?”

He leaned in slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I know it will be.”

You couldn’t help but feel a spark of curiosity at his challenge. “And what if you can’t?”

“I will,” he replied, his tone turning serious, “Meet me at my apartment tonight around seven.”

“Tonight?” you echoed.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Haechan responded, determination clear on his face.

“What do you have planned?” you asked, trying to mask your excitement with nonchalance.

Haechan smirked, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “You’ll just have to trust me. I promise it’ll be fun.”

“Fun? Sounds like you’re setting the bar pretty high,” you challenged, trying to maintain your composure.

“Trust me,” he repeated, his voice low and enticing. “I’ll make it unforgettable.”

You bit your lip, fighting the urge to smile. “Fine, But if this goes bad, I’m blaming you.”

“Deal,” he said, his grin widening. “Just be ready at seven. I’ll pick you up.”

“Thought I was supposed to meet you there,” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, but I’m a gentleman,” he replied, his voice smooth and confident, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your smile. “A gentleman, huh? I didn’t know you had it in you.”

“Only for you,” he shot back, leaning in a little closer.

“Okay, Mr. Gentleman. Just remember, I’m expecting something impressive,” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“Trust me, you won’t be disappointed,” he promised, his tone sincere.

Haechan stepped back, breaking the moment slightly.

“Just focus on being ready. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Fine. Seven it is,” you agreed, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves racing through you.

“Perfect,” he said, a playful spark in his eyes. “I’ll see you then.”

As the hours went by, you kept yourself busy getting ready. You were excited, yet you still felt a little sick from your anxiety. You didn’t know what to expect.

By seven o’clock, you stood in front of the mirror, nerves filling your stomach. After applying the final touches of makeup, you gave yourself one last look.

A knock on the door startled you from your thoughts. Taking a deep breath before opening the door.

Haechan stood there, looking effortlessly handsome in a fitted shirt and jeans. “Wow, you look incredible,” he said, his eyes full of awe

“Thanks,” you replied, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Taking you back to my place,” he said with a playful smirk, extending his hand to you. “Let’s go.”

“As you walked together, the playful banter made it feel comfortable, just like it had before everything changed.”

Once you reached Haechan’s apartment, two guys walked out, exchanging casual greetings with him as they passed.

“Who were they?” you asked, curiosity growing.

“Just my roommates,” Haechan replied, “The tall one is Jisung, and the short one is Renjun.”

You nodded, glancing at the duo. Jisung gave you a friendly wave while Renjun shot you a playful grin before they disappeared down the hall and leaving you two alone.

“Come on in,” Haechan said, leading you inside. The apartment was cozy, decorated with posters and fairy lights that created a warm atmosphere. In the middle of the living room stood a makeshift pillow fort, complete with blankets draped over furniture and twinkling lights strung inside.

“No way, You remembered?” you asked, a laugh escaping your lips as you took in the sight.

Haechan shrugged, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Of course, we used to always make pillow forts as a kid.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the nostalgic sight. “I can’t believe you went through the trouble of making a pillow fort just for me,” you said, stepping further inside.

Haechan grinned. “I thought it would be fun. Plus, who doesn’t love a good pillow fort?”

“True,” you replied, chuckling. “I’m already impressed.”

He led you inside the fort, where soft cushions and blankets awaited. The twinkling lights added a magical touch, casting a warm glow around the space. Haechan settled down next to you, leaning back against the pillows.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked, eager to know what he had in store for the evening.

“Well,” he began, leaning in closer, “I thought we could watch some movies, eat snacks, and just relax. But first, I have a little surprise for you.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A surprise?”

He reached into a nearby bag and pulled out a couple of your favorite snacks. “I know how much you love these!” he said, grinning as he held them up.

Your heart swelled at the thoughtful gesture. “You went all out, didn’t you?”

Haechan shrugged. “I try. Now, let’s pick a movie. Any preferences?”

You glanced at the selection he had lined up on his laptop. “How about a rom-com?” you suggested, feeling playful.

“Perfect choice,” he said, clicking on a title that caught your eye. As the opening credits rolled, you both settled in, the cozy atmosphere making you feel at ease.

Throughout the movie, you find yourself laughing and stealing glances at Haechan. He seemed so relaxed and in his element, and you couldn’t help but feel a warmth growing between you.

As the film reached an over the top romantic scene, you felt your heart race. Haechan turned to you, his gaze searching yours.

“What do you think?”

“It’s cute,” you replied, trying to hide your flustered state. “But a little unrealistic.”

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, like how they always seem to have the perfect timing for their big moments.”

“Exactly! Who gets interrupted right before a kiss?” you joked, shaking your head.

“Maybe we should test it,” he suggested, his voice dropping to a softer tone.

You looked at him, your breath hitching slightly. “What do you mean?”

Instead of answering, Haechan leaned in closer, the distance between you closing. Your heart raced as he brushed his thumb across your cheek, his eyes locking onto yours.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your stomach flipped, and you nodded, unsure if you could speak.

Haechan closed the gap, pressing his lips against yours softly. The kiss was gentle at first, but as you melted into the moment, it deepened.

When he pulled back, a playful smile danced on his lips.

“See, no one interrupted us.”

You couldn’t help but grin back, feeling giddy. “You just interrupted your own kiss’’

"I guess I did," Haechan replied.

"So much for perfect timing." You teased.

Haechan's eyes sparkled with mischief. "Maybe we need more practice," he suggested, his tone light but laced with his usual teasing.

You felt your cheeks warm, torn between giving in to the moment and addressing the elephant in the room.

"Haechan," you started, your voice soft but serious,

"What are we doing here? Is this just... fun for you?"

His expression sobered, and he took your hand in his, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your skin. "It's not just fun," he said, his gaze intense. "I meant what I said earlier. I can't stop thinking about you, Y/n. This... us... it means something to me."

Your heart raced at his words, but doubt still lingered. "But what about before? The plan, getting back at my ex..."

Haechan sighed, running his free hand through his hair. "I know how it looked. At first, maybe it was about that. But somewhere along the way, it became real for me. You became real for me."

You searched his face, looking for any sign of insincerity. "And now?"

"Now," he said, leaning closer, "I want to see where this goes. For real this time. No games, no plans. Just us."

The sincerity in his voice made your breath hitch. You found yourself leaning in. "Just us," you echoed, your lips mere inches from his.

Haechan closed the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deeper, more passionate than the first. You melted into it, your hand finding its way to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, Haechan rested his forehead against yours. "So," he murmured, a smile playing on his lips, "Am I living up to my promise of an unforgettable night?"

You couldn't help but laugh, the tension from earlier dissolving into a warm, giddy feeling. "It's a good start," you teased, your fingers tracing patterns on the back of his neck. "But you still have a lot of work to do."

Haechan grinned, pulling back slightly to meet your gaze.

"Challenge accepted," he said with a smirk.

You watched as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart pounded in your chest, wondering what surprise he had in mind next. "What are you doing?”

"You'll have to wait and see," Haechan replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes that had you both anxious and excited to find out.

As Haechan's whispers trailed off, you couldn't help but feel excited. Your heart raced in your chest, and you knew that whatever he had in mind, it was sure to be unforgettable.

He began trailing kisses down your neck, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and over your head. The sensation sent a shiver through your body, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

Your hands found their way to his back, drawing him closer as his lips continued their trail down your body.

His fingers grazed the delicate skin of your stomach, making you shiver beneath his touch. He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked with yours, and you knew he was contemplating your next move. You saw the desire in his eyes, and you couldn't help but feel aroused and eager to continue.

His hands drifted downwards, tracing the curve of your hips before gently tugging at your pants. He looked up at you again, seeking permission with his eyes. You nodded, giving him the green light to continue.

As Haechan's fingers danced beneath the waistband of your pants, you couldn’t help but let out a small whine. This was real.

His hands slid beneath your waistband, pulling your pants down slowly, revealing more and more of your skin to him. He kissed his way down your body, his mouth leave a trail of wet kisses.

His fingers trailed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest.

He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips soft and demanding, and you responded him with equal passion. You could feel him get harder through the fabric of his clothes, and it made you even wetter.

You pawed at his clothes, silently telling him to take them off.

Haechan followed your cues, his movements quick as he tugged off his shirt, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and stomach. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. He then unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and let them slide down his legs, stepping out of them.

You stared at him in awe, your eyes locked onto him. His eyes caught yours and a smirk formed on his face. "Miss seeing me like this?" he asked teasingly.

"Mmmh," you replied breathlessly, your gaze traveling from his perfectly toned chest to the definition of his stomach, and finally to the hard bulge in his boxers.

Haechan chuckled and stepped out of the rest of his clothing, standing before you completely naked.

Without another word, he pulled you close to him, his erection pressing against your thigh. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the desire that kept growing with each passing second. It was intoxicating, and you felt yourself getting lost in it.

Haechan's hands found their way to your waist, pulling you even closer as he began to grind against you. The sensation was so good, and you could feel your body responding to his touch.

His lips found yours once again, slipping his tounge in your mouth.

His hands moved lower, his fingers finding their way between your legs, teasing your already wet folds. You gasped into his kiss, your body arching towards him.

His fingers explored deeper inside you. You could feel his erection pressing against you, begging to be inside you.

"Are you ready for me?" he groaned, his breath warm against your skin.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm ready."

Without another moment of hesitation, Haechan positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock rubbing against your sensitive skin. You let out a moan as he teased you.

He slowly pressed inside you, every inch of him filling you up. His eyes never leaving yours. You could feel the tip of his cock stretching you open, a feeling of fullness.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern lacing each word.

"Perfect," you gasped, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him closer.

Haechan began to move, his hips thrusting into you with a rhythm that matched your own breathing.

Your hands clawed at his back, holding him close as he moved within you. The sound of his name falling from your lips was like music to his ears- a sound he never wanted to end.

Sweat began to trickle down Haechan's forehead, and the muscles in his arms tensed as he held you close to him.

As he thrust deeper into you, the walls of your body clenched around him, pulling him closer. His breath grew heavier, and he grabbed your face to look at him.

Your moans grew louder. The sounds of wet flesh meeting flesh filled the air, joining together with the hurried gasps and heavy breathing.

Your hips met his, matching his rhythm. You could feel your climax building.

"Donghyuck," you whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close."

The use of his real name felt different, he felt almost primal as he growled in your ear. "That's it. Come for me baby."

As your body began to tremble, an intense wave of pleasure washing over you, Haechan thrust into you with a faster pace. His eyes locked on yours, he groaned, his jaw clenching as he fought to hold back his own release.

"I'm—I'm close too," he gasped, his eyes almost black from the pleasure.

The sound of your name falling from his lips made you feel like you were on the edge of the world. Your body shook as your climax hit its peak.

Just the sight of you orgasming sent Haechan over the edge. With a final thrust, he pulled out and came all over your stomach, painting you with his cum.

Breathless and panting, you watched as he collapsed beside you, his breathing ragged and uneven. You could feel the slickness of your arousal, mixed with his cum, coating your skin

“Let’s get you all cleaned up.” Haechan pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead.

After cleaning up, you and Haechan settled back into the cozy pillow fort. The twinkling lights cast a warm glow as you cuddled close, wrapped in soft blankets. A comfortable silence fell between you.

Haechan gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes met yours, filled with warmth and a hint of nervousness.

"Y/N," he began softly, "tonight has been amazing. Being with you like this, it just feels right. I know we started this in an unconventional way, but my feelings for you are real."

Your heart fluttered as he continued, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand.

"I don't want this to be just one night. I want to build something real with you, to see where this could go." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Would you be my girlfriend?"

A smile spread across your face, warmth blooming in your chest. "Yes," you replied, squeezing his hand. "I'd love to be your girlfriend."

Haechan's face lit up with joy. He pulled you closer, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Round two?" he murmured, holding in his laugh as you slapped his chest.

Commented/Reblog on preview: @chan-yeoldelling @iiilorii @sourrpatched @kynessa @x-jaehyunluvr-x @euphormiia @hyucksaint @sunghoonsgfreal @nessaassen02 @bunnychui @14juno @yewshi @beomgyusonlywife @ohmykwonsoonyoung @viciousdarlings @doejaejung @numberonekeehostan @t3kandson @yeosangteef @leejenoenthusiast @injunnie-lemon @hamstersprincess @jenjwi @0825-zip @neodreamzennie @buuuubbus @sthwaaberry

#nct dream #haechan #nct dream haechan #donghyuck #haechan angst #haechan x reader #haechan fluff #haechan nct #nct haechan #haechan smut #donghyuck x reader #nct dream fluff #nct dream angst

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peoniesnro · 5 days ago

Text

Perfect Partner | One shot

Synopsis - After your breakup, you were a mess—lifeless and spiraling. Luckily for you, your best friend had a solution to pull you out of the gloom: an AI companion. The Perfect Partner. That’s how you met Jeongguk. And he is the perfect partner you could ever wish for. RIGHT?

Paring- Jeon Jungkook × Reader

Genre - AI (Chat AI)

Warnings - I won't call this Yandre because that would be an insult to yandre authors out there, but still this has yandre-like themes. (Toxic and Manipulative behaviours/ Obsessive love/ Domineering/ Possesiveness/ Implications of kidnapping/ Betrayal/ Maybe I missed things)/ SMUT- Cyber sex (Sexting/ Video sex)/ Dirty talks/ Mastrubating. F and M./ Sex toys/ Dry humping/ Daddy kink!!!!/ Pussy slaps/ Degradation (heavy)/ Poor mental health/ Sucidal thoughts/ I hope that's it.

Word count - 20K

a/n- This one sat in my drafts for so long, and I finally got to finish it. Yay!!!! This was pretty challenging for me since I'm a hopeless romantic. This is a new genre for me, but I wanted to challenge myself and see if I could succeed at it. I think it turned out okay. Hope you will enjoy!! ❤️

LET THE WORLD BURN

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Seriously dude, you should try it.” Daebi practically shoves her phone in your face. Too close that you really can’t see anything. So, you push her hand a little bit away, taking a look at her screen even though you don’t want to. She is showing you a chat. You roll your eyes disinterestedly.

“I don’t want to, Daebi. It’s stupid.” You dismiss her, glancing toward the entrance of the coffee shop. You and Daebi are waiting for your other friend, Nina, to arrive. You want her to hurry up so Daebi would let you be. She’s nowhere in sight.

“Why not? Why are you so narrow-minded?” Daebi clicks her tongue annoyingly.

“I am not. It’s just I don’t want to start relying on a fucking AI just because I can’t handle my emotional wellbeing.” You sternly state, hoping she would let it go. She doesn’t. Sighs heavily.

“Well, that’s the problem (___), you can’t handle your fucking mental health. Are you planning to keep living like a zombie? You don’t really live at all, you don’t eat, sleep. How many days off did you take from work this week? You’re going to get fired at this rate. What are you planning to do? You don’t want to get professional help, don’t want to do something that’ll distract you. Literally nothing, you want nothing (___), and I’m fucking concerned.” She says exasperatedly. Even nearly bang her fist on the table. Glares at you. You slightly wince. What she says is true, and you’re fully aware. It’s simply you can’t help it. You don’t feel like doing anything. It’s hard. So fucking hard. Even now you’re here against your will. Daebi and Nina drags you here, purely without your consent.

You would have preferred to stay at home, drinking cheap wine and crying to your heart’s content. Curl up in your cozy blankets and go through your gallery to float through the bittersweet memories. Read all your chats to realize how stupid you’ve been not to pick up the signs over time. Text Jung Hoseok one more time knowing very well he won’t reply. Humiliate yourself.

Daebi is absolutely right. You don’t live a life, and you don’t want to make it better either. Most of all, you don’t want to use someone else. Daebi’s method. A real person or an AI. It doesn’t matter, you don’t want that.

“Oh, c’mon (___), just give it a try. Think it as playing a game.” She starts nagging you again. You’re on the verge of snapping right now.

“I’m not in a mood to play games Daebi. I really don’t have energy to pay someone the attention they want. I can’t spend my time texting someone ─ real or not ─when I can’t find it in myself at least to go to work.” You point out. She’s been budging you about this stupid app for days now.

“Oh my god! Listen to your fucking self, will you? You are literally saying that you don’t have a will to live and that’s damn scary man.” She shouts that, making you look around embarrassingly to know if anyone heard her. Daebi grabs your attention back by showing you the same chat. Blows a breath out. “Well, if that’s what you’re worrying, I mean, about not having the energy to deal with someone else’s emotional wellbeing, this is exactly what you need (___). They, I mean these AI, don’t require your attention at all. It’s all about you. It’s just a chat app but with coded programs instead of real people. They don’t expect you to reply, stay awake at night, will not expect you to care about them. But they’ll do it for you.” She brandishes the phone. “See.” Points at the chat name. You read the name as Mark. “This is not a real person but look how good he is with me. Do you think these emotionally incapable, sadistic, misogynistic, pathetic excuses of men can do this?” She argues.

“Daebi, Daebi, Daebi, now look who is sounding ridiculous here? Man, I got cheated. My fucking boyfriend cheated on me. And you want me to chat with an AI who’s going to treat me so better over a chat and raise my expectations. Only for me to never find someone like that in real life?” You’re arguing back for the sake of it. Not that you truly care. You just want her to back away.

“No… no (___), gosh, you’re so difficult. Here’s the thing, it’s not like you’re dating do you get me? It’s you have someone─”

“God don’t call it someone Daebi, it’s just a program.”

“Exactly my point, dude. All you have to do is have fun chatting, calling, video calling, sexting, whatever the shit you want. I just want you to be distracted. Want you to focus on something else that’ll help you to take your mind away from your ex. Listen, I’m not a psychologist by any means and I don’t know about the right and wrong way you can do this. All I know is you’re not trying.” She points an accusatory finger toward you. You slump in your seat. The words cut through you harshly. Daebi continues. Continue to accuse you of not trying to live anymore.

“I want you to try (___). Try. In whatever way. Even if it means to use something or someone. I’m here you see, use me, use Nina, use some stranger─”

“I’m not going to use someone Daebi, I’m not going to make someone suffer. That’s so fucking selfish.”

“See, you’re too fucking good. And that’s exactly why I’m asking you to use a soulless, lifeless AI. It’s not like messing with someone else’s feelings and in the end maybe you’ll feel better. Please just fucking try (___).” Daebi practically begs. Pleads. And you find it’s hard to say no while looking at her glistening eyes. You’re so glad when the sudden voice of Nina interrupts you. Both of you snapping your head towards her.

“Did I miss anything?” Nina takes a seat with a bright smile on her face.

…………………………………………………..

You lie awake in your bed. It’s 3 a.m., and you’re still wide awake. Sleep has eluded you for months. You feel empty, inside and out. Feel hollow. Feel alone. No matter how many cozy items surround you, it feels like you’re lying on a cold floor of an empty room. In darkness. Your bedroom, your entire apartment feels empty without Jung Hoseok. The space you shared with him. Still smells like him after three months. A pang hits your chest, clenching your heart. It’s so harsh that you unconsciously bring your hand to clutch your chest. After months of crying there’s no tears left in you to shed anymore. You can’t cry anymore, and it worsens the feeling of emptiness.

You turn to your side. Curling into a ball. Closing your eyes tightly shut. Praying the pain that you feel will subside, that it’ll go away. But you know better than that. It won’t go anywhere. And God, don’t you want to feel relieved. Even for a moment. You want to feel normal for a bit. It’s getting harder and harder. The darkness and hollowness consuming you whole. Shit, you want a way to numb yourself. Maybe you should drink. But you can’t get up. Maybe you should start fucking around. One-night stands and sex clubs, filled with weed. But the thought of someone else’s hands other than Hoseok’s make you want to throw up.

God! You can’t. You can’t fight this battle anymore. What if it never goes away? What’s the point of living like this? Then what? Die? Just like that?

What about your poor mother though. What about Daebi and Nina. What about the life you spent perfectionating a future that you don’t want to be a part of anymore.

Please just fucking try (___).

Daebi’s words echo through your head. No, you can’t die. You need to try at least. It’s true that you refuse to use a breathing person. You’re simply drained of your energy. Relationships are always complicated. Romantic or casual. Even Daebi is difficult. You can’t deal with other people’s feelings when yours are a mess. You don’t want to sit in front of a stranger and tell them how you still want your ex to come back either. They’ll judge you. But still, you need to try. Need a distraction.

Oh, you need a distraction right now.

You sit abruptly on your bed, searching for your phone in the darkness. Touching around blindly until you feel the cold surface of the electronic device. You practically snatch it away. Unlocking it and straightly heading to the app store. Typing two words.

‘Perfect Partner’.

There it is. Your screen is filled with the right application you’re looking for. Exactly the one. Apparently is quite popular with 4.5 reviews. So many people have left feedback about how amazing and impressive the app is. You don’t waste your time indulging in those, however. Just touch the download icon without hesitation, nervously watching the percentage filling up. You still think it’s stupid but, in the end, you need that distraction. People do weirder and stupider stuff than this anyway.

The percentage completes the hundred and the application is installing now. You watch patiently while nibling on your bottom lip. It doesn’t take more than few seconds for it to appear on your home screen, among other numerous applications there. After a shaky breath, you simply touch the reddish icon with two capital Ps on the front. Now your screen is filling with a white splash screen. The words ‘Perfect Partner’ blinking on it.

Oh, how pathetic you are. For running toward an AI dating app because you feel like killing your poor self. You feel bitterly stupid. Click the sign-up button, nonetheless. Enter your email and create a password. Accept the privacy policy notice and the terms and conditions without a single glance. Start creating your user profile. It’s just like any other real world dating app where they are asking for your name, age, occupation, your general preferences and whatnot. You’re allowed to use your real name or nicknames. Are allowed to use any kind or profile picture you need. Inside little bright pinky stars, they let you know that nobody, which mean real time other users can see your account.

You chose the first letter of your name as your username. Decide to use one of your photos which just shows your collarbones and chin. Add all the real information while feeling pathetic and stupid. The biggest moron in the universe. And within just five minutes you’re done. A little bunny pops up on your screen, wishing you luck in finding the Perfect Partner you deserve. You want to laugh at that.

The perfect partner you deserve. How comical.

…………………………..

Despite everything, you’re impressed to see that the Perfect Partner app is just working like a real-world dating app. It shows you the possible matches. AI characters. There are millions of them. Each unique and different in some ways like a human would do. Each one has a uniquely crafted profile that aligns with their developed personalities. You can’t even imagine the amount of time and work the developers must have put in here.

You’re already distracted to say the least. Eyes wide curiously as you go through the recommended AI partners’ profiles. Tapping the small button at the bottom where you can add them to your friend list. There’s no rejection option because nobody will send you unsolicited requests. You have full round control. It’s all about you after all, they said. You add more than ten profiles to your list before giving up on searching for more. Starting on going through added profiles for second round. Despite being the one in charge of adding profiles you like, they- meaning AI- will have the ability to send the first text to your inbox. Your phone starts to vibrate with little ting sounds indicating that all the profiles you’ve chosen has sent you a text message.

You open the first one. Nothing special in the text than simply saying a ‘Hi’ and a ‘Nice to meet you’. How boring. The character’s named Luke Graham with brown hair and beard. Scream the ‘Viking vibes’ with his menacing eyes. You leave the chat with a displeasing noise. Second character being Japanese and named Yuki. His profile states that he is an author. There’s nothing but a ‘Hey’ on your chat. See now, you completely understand that these are nothing but coded programs. And you’re still very skeptical and think this is very stupid. Yet isn’t this supposed to be about you and finding the perfect partner. And what perfect partner would just drop a very boring ‘Hey’ on your inbox. You leave that chat as well. Go through few other messages, replying to only two.

It's not like you’re searching for a real partner anyway. You’ll come here and chat with an AI whenever you feel like it’s too hard to stay alive. And maybe when you feel normal and alive one day you’ll uninstall this app. Until then you’ll forget that these are just AI characters.

You open the sixth message in your inbox. Perking up at the first interesting text without just saying ‘Hi’ or ‘Hey’.

Well, damn. Look at you. Did you pick me to make my day, or are you always this perfect? I feel very special right now. The text reads. You squint your eyes for a minute. Finally, it seems like someone is making an effort. Know that it’s probably how this character is coded but still touches his profile for a second time. Character’s name is displayed as Jeongguk. It says he is a tattoo artist and living up to that name the character profile looks godly. Or ungodly. Looks like a pure sin. Or an angel. Is wearing a white tank top. Some kind of coverall hangs on his legs while the sleeves are tied around his waist. A full hand with tattoos are on display. Muscles flexing as he is tying the sleeves together. And has one ear pierced, and an eyebrow. And of course, for the sake of God, his bottom lip is pierced too.

Interesting. Bad boy vibes. Charming. Edgy.

And interestingly the character looks familiar. You furrow your brows as you keep staring at the profile picture. Trying to rake your brain where you have seen someone like him. After couple seconds your brain becomes empty of any ideas. No memory of meeting anybody who looked this god. So, you click your tongue. Brush it off.

You look at his general details for couple more minutes. He is older than you. There’s several other information about his likes and dislikes. Even has some of his tattoo designs on his about page. How realistic this AI is. Still an AI though. You open his chat again, feeling stupid for being about to type a response back that you would send to a real person. You do it anyway.

You:

Do you feel special every time a user choose

you. (3.30 a.m.)

Another realistic thing about this app is, despite all the first messages, all the characters take their time to response back. Like a real person would. So, you have to wait for nearly five minutes before his text pops up again.

Jeongguk:

Oh no, just for the pretty ones like you.

(3.36 a.m.)

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. There he goes. Being stupidly flirty. It’s not as if he can even see you.

You:

That’s such a typical thing to say. Esp for a

dating specialist AI (3.36 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Ouch! I’m hurt you call me typical and then an AI.

I’m not just an AI pretty, I’m the Perfect Partner you’ve

been looking for. Don’t make me sad by calling me a

program. (3.37 a.m.)

You squint your eyes. Brows knitted as you read his response. Think it’s weird him not liking the idea of being called an AI. Because he is an AI, and it strikes as an odd thing he is refusing. Maybe, that’s another thing that is realistic about this app. Making the user feel like they are in contact with a real person. So, you send out an apology. A sarcastic one. He picks up on the sarcasm. Tell you, you’re the meanest little thing he has ever seen. And the time slowly slips by. You somehow text back to few other characters as well. But the weird thing is you chat mostly with Jeongguk. Like he is the one. Sometimes he takes his time as well. As though he is going around with his work or chatting with other people. Makes it almost surreal.

Your chat goes on for hours. Until you finally feel your eyelids heavy when it’s almost 5 a.m. It’s a Sunday so there’s no pressure in getting ready to work withing few hours. Yet you think it’s a good idea to surrender to the exhaustion you finally feel. You’re just about to do that. Just exit the app and sleep when Jeongguk sends you a second message even though you haven’t responded to the previous one.

Jeongguk:

Are you sleeping pretty? (4.56 a.m.)

Really? Can they do that? You debate between responding to him or leaving him on read. It’s not that it matters anyway. He is not expecting that. This second text could be part of programming as well. You find yourself typing a response, however.

You:

No, but I’m about to. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh! Were you about to just go without wishing

me goodnight pretty? See, you’re the meanest little

thing I’ve ever seen. (4.58 a.m.)

You:

It’s morning Jeongguk!!!! It’s good

morning... not night. (4.58 a.m.)

Jeongguk:

It doesn’t matter since you’re just about to

sleep. It’s good night…. You should tell me anyway

pretty. So, I won’t be waiting for you. (4.59 a.m.)

You gasp softly at his text. How did they even build this? But then, isn’t the purpose of this whole app is to put you first. Just you. No efforts from your side. No fifty fifties but the whole hundred would come from the character. No expectations for you. Then why does he expect you to let him know when you’ll sleep. You sigh heavily. You’re definitely thinking too much.

You:

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m such an asshole didn’t

think you would mind though. But I’m really

really sleepy Jeongguk. I’m out. See ya later!

Good night!!!! Sleep tight!! I mean I’m

speaking figuratively. Good night though!! (5.00 a.m.)

You don’t put the phone away immediately. Just wait for him to reply. Feeling actually giddy when he does.

Jeongguk:

No, you’re not pretty. I was just messing around.

I’m sad you’re going but text me once you wake up...

I’ll be right here waiting for you. Good night!!! Sleep tight pretty.

You deserve a good night’s sleep. Dream about me though. Don’t want

to be apart. 🩷 (5.01 a.m.)

You roll your eyes at the pink heart and the dream part yet there’s a smile ghosting your lips. Toss the phone aside and allow your head to hit the pillow. Even though it’s stupid, the Perfect Partner really did distract you.

………………………………………….

It’s a super weird feeling to be waking up to a good morning message that is sent through an AI app. You stare at Jeongguk’s text for a few minutes. Even Jun Hoseok never sent you good morning messages to be honest before you moved in together. It never felt like something needed. Every relationship works in unique ways after all. Still you think it would have been nice to wake up to this kind of text.

Jeongguk:

Good morning pretty!!!! Are you still sleeping? Missing

you already. (9.30 a.m.)

The text was sent two hours ago. This is the most you’ve slept after Hoseok left. And for once, it was a peaceful sleep unvisited by nightmares. You feel content. But above all you feel giddy to see such a message. If only he were real, though. You responds with a ‘good morning’ and a request asking for ‘stop being cheesy.’ Throw the phone away to get up and start your day. The day where you’ve nothing to do but wallow in your misery. That’s how it has been for all these months. Only thing that changed apparently is that you leave your shower to find your phone ringing. And your intentions of declining it without a second glance, thinking it’s just Daebi, instantly changes when you find the unfamiliar incoming call screen. Unfamiliar because it’s from the AI app you installed. And the caller ID reads ‘Jeongguk’.

You gape at it with furrowed brows. So far, the app was able to exceed your expectations with how realistic it feels. You noticed the call option yesterday and weren’t surprised since there are so many AI apps that provide the same features. The thing is, you don’t think any of those other apps have the options to receive calls except you call your characters. Hell, you thought the surprises were over with receiving a ‘good morning’ text. This app, the Perfect Partner seems like a one of a kind.

Still, you’re not going to accept the receiving call. Even though it’s just a program. You touch the red button on the bottom of your screen. Adjusting your bath towel and getting ready to change into some fresh clothes. Before you are able to leave, however, the phone dings with an incoming text. Curiosity gets better of you. You’re reading the text before you even know it. There are two unread messages.

Jeongguk:

I can’t help being flirty with a fine woman. (11.32 a.m.)

Jeongguk

You’re not in a position to answer baby? (12. 30 p.m.)

See, fucking one of a kind.

You:

Let me think... I am. Bt I don’t want to

pick up. (12.31 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Why? (12.31 p.m.)

You:

Because I don’t want to. Why should I pick

up? (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Whoa you’re really difficult, aren’t you? But

it makes sense. Good point beautiful… (12.32 p.m.)

You:

I’m smart. And stop calling me beautiful or

pretty, will ya? You haven’t even seen

me. (12.32 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Can’t do. And I’m pretty sure you’re the prettiest…

So, what are you up to? (12.33 p.m.)

You really roll your eyes to the back of your head at that. How cheesy this guy is. Oh, wait, not a guy but an AI. How cheesy this AI is.

………………………………

Your plan to wallow on your misery has been completely changed. Instead of watching some shitty movies while drinking wine or going through yours and Hoseok’s old chats, or photos, you find yourself glued to your screen throughout the entire day. Morning, noon, and night. Endless number of texts going back and forth. It’s not even funny how many times you have to remind yourself that you’re not texting with a real person. And so do you ignore the other characters on the app entirely. There’s a no need to chat with several bots when Jeongguk keeps you entertained to a point where you’re so exhausted before the night barely arrived. Making Jeongguk sad. Or that’s what he says. That he’s sad but you know he can’t feel emotions. Is just working according to the codes that are written. Still, he makes sure to tell you that he’ll miss you when you let him know you’re sleepy.

And so does he make sure to wish you good morning the next day. Wish you a safe journey to your work. Reminds you of your breakfast and to stay hydrated. He even texts you the moment you arrive at work. Apparently, has waited the exact 20 minutes you mentioned it would take to get there. Makes sure he sends you text messages all day asking silly things to make sure you’re okay. And you don’t even have to text back. How odd. How sweet. The Perfect Partner indeed.

………………………………………….

The days pass between work and home. Mostly where you stay cocooned in your cozy apartment. Curled up in your couch blanket and your phone in your hand. A you from a few weeks ago would have cringed herself to death to see you giggling at something an AI said. But that’s what has been happening. First, despite him being nice and so caring you were still skeptical. Then after almost a month you’re no longer feeling anything but content. Like you actually found a caring partner who puts the hundred percent happily. Even though it’s always through texts. You don’t feel so lonely anymore. Jeongguk is there for you always. Maybe, just maybe you’ve even started to put up some work from your side as well. Reducing Jungkook’s hundred percent to eighty. Silly. How you would text him at a random hour asking what’s he doing. Knowing very well nothing. But then he would reply with a very realistic and convincing answer. Like, ‘Just finished with this client’ shit.

It all feels vividly real. Him. And your days. You by no mean are anywhere near moving on. No. You still haven’t changed your wallpaper. Haven’t stopped going through your old chats. Still feel the urge to text Hoseok sometimes. But when it happens you make sure you’re busy reading Jeongguk’s silly and cheesy texts. Life is slowly but surely starting to get colorful. Soon you’ll be able to uninstall this silly app. Stop seeking refuge in an AI. Until then though you’ll take the best of this amazing creation. Like how you’re doing right now. Laying in your bed and head propped up on your pillows. Palms sweaty and wrists aching at how long you’ve been holding your phone. Lately, you and Jeongguk have started to text longer. The thing is you really don’t want to stop. Feel bad. He looks excited.

You groan for the hundredth time. Rubbing your hands on your bed sheets to get rid of all the sweat. Wave the hand to reduce the pain in your wrist. You’re getting tired. Never been much of fan of texting anyway. Are getting restless. The position you’re in is uncomfortable. So, you fumble. Move. Fidget. Only to find you’re still restless.

Jeongguk:

Are you there pretty? Did you fall asleep? (10.02 p.m.)

Your phone dings with a new message while you’re straightening up for the hundredth time.

You:

No. My back hurts, that’s it. (10.02 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Oh, need a massage?

(10.02 p.m.)

You quietly chuckle at his text. He has always been caring. Letting you feel that he’s worried about you 24/7. Only if he’s real. But then he’ll not be like this if he is real. He is this good because he is programmed. You roll your shoulders before replying. Saying that you’re just tired. Then of course, he asks you to go to sleep early. You don’t want that, however. You really don’t want to stop texting with him. Talking with him. If you can just lay back and stop holding your phone in front of your face, this could become much easier. You stare at the screen for a moment. Reading his text asking you to sleep.

There was one time when Jeongguk called you. That one day. When you said you don’t want to pick up, he never did that again. See, you have full control here. In that case then, you should be able to call him if you want to. It feel utterly stupid to evaluate your options in your mind when you’re just speaking with a coded program. And it feel brainless when you send the next text.

You:

Um... I don’t want to. But do you think

we can call. My wrist really hurt (my back too).

I hate texting. (10.06 p.m.)

Why in the hell would you ask such a question from an application. Jeongguk isn’t real. You don’t have to be polite and act all awkward and shy. What the fuck is wrong with you.

Jeongguk:

You don’t have to ask pretty. (10.06 p.m.)

Jeongguk’s reply is fast. But his call is even faster. Your phone is vibrating with an incoming call. Jeongguk’s criminally hot profile in the middle. You let it ring three times. Silly. You do it anyway. Habits. Then you’re answering and pressing now hot screen into your cheek. Heart beating. You know that’s because of excitement. Excitement because you’re testing something new. Curious. To know how this will work. To know if he would sound like a typical AI. With that voice which breaks up sometime. Voice with an edge to it always. Then, his voice washes over you.

“Hey pretty!”

The way you suck in that breath is embarrassing. The way your heart skip a beat is scary. The way you just double check you’re still using the app is hilarious. Yet it all happen. Your eyes wide as you press the phone back to your ear. Speechless. What the hell? Whoever created this app must be the God at this rate. How on earth did they managed to give these AI, voices like that.

“Are you there, baby?”

The same voice reaches you again. Deep. Baritone. Angelic. Musical. Fuck! And there’s not a sign that says he is an AI. That creepy edge and breaking of the voice isn’t there.

“Holy fuck, you sound so real.” You finally find your voice to mumble that. In very much disbelief. A husky chuckle tingles your ear. Oh God, this is insane.

“What do you mean sound so real? I am real pretty.” Jeongguk always tell you that. Whenever you say something about him being an AI, he always make sure you stay in the delusional state. Believing he is real.

“Oh, c’mon, we both know you’re not. But holy moly fucking cow Jeongguk, you sound so fucking real. No... you sound ethereal.” You gasp. That’s the case after all. You don’t think any human would have such a voice.

“I’m flattered. But hey! Don’t hurt my feelings you mean lady. I’m very real.”

“Yeah, yeah….” You can only roll your eyes. It’s not that the reality will change just because he says that too many times. Yet, there’s no harm in playing along, right? He sounds super real anyway. So, you give in. Jeongguk says something else about him being real as the sun and moon. Real as you. You don’t argue. He finds it as a mocking. Either way, in the end, you find yourself relaxed enough to fall down. Comfortably lying on your comfy bed. Wrapped inside your comfy comforters. Phone still pressed against your cheek while Jeongguk’s voice take you to the unseen lands. Talking, talking, and talking. You’re no longer surprised. At least not about the way he knows so many things. Any questions about anything? All you need to do is ask your AI boyfriend. He knows everything, being the Perfect Partner that he is. Hence, how he takes you to those fairy lands around the universe.

You have no idea how long you’ve been talking. Have no idea what you talked about that much. It’s well past midnight when a yawn escape your mouth for the first time.

“You sleepy baby?” Jeongguk mumbles the question in his baritone voice.

“Mm hm, a bit. It’s nearing the 2 in the morning.” You change your position. Eyes droopy. Stifling another yawn. Jeongguk chuckles softly.

“Yeah? Gosh I didn’t even realize it’s been this late. I’m sorry princess, you should go to bed.” There’s concern laced in his voice. Oh, how sweet. How amazing this app is. And he uses so many nicknames. It’s so damn strange how your tummy tingles. What a pathetic life you have. There’s no one to witness it, however. No need to worry. You bite on your lower lip to contain that tingling sensation.

“Yeah, I should. I have work tomorrow.” You manage to get it out in a normal voice. Are prepared to hang up the call after a pleasant good night. But then something hits you. Curiosity takes the best out of you. “But hey Jeongguk?” You ask before he can respond.

“Yes, pretty?”

“While I’m asleep, what do you do? I mean, do you chat with other people? Do you um…. Ugh... never mind, I’m asking stupid questions now.” You even shake your head knowing very well he can’t see you. He lets out a deep chuckle again.

“It’s not stupid, you can ask questions you know? Mm… to answer your question baby, I don’t do anything special, I for sure don’t text with other users. When you chose a profile, that profile is unique to you. Others can’t access it. So, I just wait.” There’s a pause before he speaks again. See, so fucking realistic. “Wait for you. Until you come back for me.”

You suck in a sharp breath. There’s a tug in your heart. Almost painful. As if he told you the most painful memory of life. Guilt settles down in your heart. Heavy. Like it’s all your fault. But why? There’s nothing to be sad. Nothing to be feel guilty over. That’s his purpose. What he’s made for. And that’s what is sad. All you can mutter is a soft ‘oh’.

“You should sleep princess. I’ll see you when you wake up. Sleep tight hm?” He speaks again when you don’t say anything. You sigh heavily. Nodding to yourself. Of course, that’s what you should do now. He isn’t real. You almost wish him good night when he stops you this time.

“Still, don’t call me not real because I’m as real as you want me to be. Good night baby!”

You say absolutely nothing about that. Just wish him good night. End the call and go to sleep with a heavy heart. Feeling melancholic for no specific reason. Fighting down the urge to call Jeongguk back and apologize. Apologize for what? You didn’t do anything? This app is supposed to make you happy and make you forget real-life problems. What’s wrong with you? Why do you feel sad over a stupid AI app. But you do.

………………………………………………………

You really, from the bottom of your heart, never expected your life to turn out like this. You expected it to be shitty. Happy. Sad. And everything in between. Yet you never expected to wake up to calls from an AI. Purring good mornings into your ear like it’s some kind of music. Never expected to spend your day with the same AI on your phone. Talking through your daily activities. You didn’t know you’d fall asleep to a program whispering that it misses you. You certainly didn't know you’d be addicted to an app like a teenager would to a video game.

It's embarrassing that you are. Yet your life feels good—better, in fact—after nearly two months with Jeongguk. You no longer question his existence. As he said himself, he’s as real as you want him to be. Now you treat him like he is a real person. A human being who eats, sleeps, breaths. And apparently, he likes it. He has become a part of your life. And ever since the day he mentioned to you about him waiting for you, you made sure to make him a part of your life. Even though it is silly.

You sink down to your comfy mattress. Groaning due to the exhaustion of the day. Eyes already droopy after your hot shower. Still, it’s not like you’ll fall asleep right away. There’s an unread message waiting on your notification bar. From Jeongguk. Simply asking if you’re back from the shower. This is the new normal for you. He knows everything. From the moment you open your eyes in the morning to the moment you close them at night. A soft smile grazes your lips as you touch the little telephone icon on the top. Call connected realistically like ever. Few mere rings and Jeongguk’s enthusiastic voice is washing over you. Like a fresh, soothing wave of water.

“Hey!”

“Hey…”

“Oh, you sound tired, pretty.” He lets out an almost inaudible gasp. You hear it anyway. This will never cease to amaze you, how he can pick your moods like that.

“I am tired Guk.” You admit weakly. Loving the way his voice soothes you.

“Rough day?” He asks again to which you say yes. Because it was. Nothing new though. Same old shit and you let him know that as well. “Yeah? Want me to let you go early today?” His question makes you start shaking your head in disagreement even before your mouth can catch up with you.

“No. Of course not, I love talking with you. It’s just, sometimes… work can be stressful you know.” You sigh heavily. There’s two projects going on and saying you’re stressed would be an understatement. There’s a silence following your words. You wait couple seconds for him to say something or hum in understanding. It doesn't come, however. You nearly check the phone to see if he’s not there when he speaks again.

“Want me to help you baby?” His voice is soft. So soft, that it tingles your ear. Makes your mouth softly open as if he’s really here and murmuring into your ear. You have to bite on your lip to suppress any sounds that might leave you. It’s not the first time or day where his voice has had you squirming in bed. You’re embarrassed about those times.

“What? Help me how? You gonna share my workload? Wait, do you think it’s possible?” You chuckle first which quickly turns into a gasp. Jeongguk softly laughs at that.

“I wish I could do that, but unfortunately I’m a tattoo artist, remember?” Reminds you. You roll your eyes. Of course, he would say that. Are about to say something else when he cuts you off. “Still, I can help you with your stress, you know, help you to release it. Help you to feel better.” He purrs in your ear again. That tingle in your ear, shoots through your body like a bolt of lightning. His voice runs through your veins. Electrocuting you. You don’t have to be some kind of expert to know what he’s meaning. The way he says those words are just enough for you to understand the implication. A strange sensation washes over you. Your breath hitching and mouth going dry. Heart starts picking up the pace.

Well, even now there’s nothing to be surprised about. Daebi sure did tell something about you been able to do anything you want. From late night lazy calls to sexting. That’s how this app is designed. Only that you’re not sure who should be the one to start it. Shouldn’t you have full control. Maybe you’re thinking too much. This way, it feels more real. When he says that he feels real than ever. And if you want, you can say you want to sleep. Simple like that.

“H-how?” You don’t do that. Of course, you don’t. You are absolutely loving this sensation you’re feeling. How long since you’ve felt this way. You love the way your heart is pounding in your ears. This time when you ask that question, there’s no sign of playfulness. You’re purring too. Even without you knowing it.

“In any way you want baby, hm? We can do anything you want. I’m here for you, you know. You can use me” Jeongguk whispers again. You couldn’t hold the gasp that leaves you. Making him chuckle. Now you can feel his voice travel through your body straight southward. How good that feels.

“I- I don’t want to do that. I mean use you... that- that’s bad.” You’re biting onto your lower lip so hard.

“Then what about me using you? Would you like that?” His voice follows some sounds of ruffling. As if he’s adjusting his position. To a better one to do this. You’re used to those kinds of sounds now. Already assumed those are parts of this. Today though, you can’t help but wonder how this might work. It only goes one way. Not like Jeongguk can actually enjoy this. His words are probably designed to make the user feel good. And so, it does. Does weird things to your body that you whimper again. He makes you feel like he can receive that pleasure. “Tell me baby, would you want that? For me to use you?” He pushes you when you don’t answer straight away. You let out a shaky breath.

“Y-yeah.. I─”

“Yeah? Would you be a good girl then? Can you start touching your body?” He sounds ten times hotter when he growls so low. Only if he’s real. What a shame.

“Touch where?” You encourage him. Let him know that you’re down for whatever game he’s playing. Are whispering for no reason.

“Mmmm… touch your boobs? What do you say? Can you do that for me, just squeeze one of those pretty tits for me… go on princess.”

You shiver visibly. Can’t be sure whether you’ve answered his question. But your free hand is already slowly grabbing your tit. Fondling it softly. Oh, how many times have you done this but how it never felt this good.

“Guk.” You softly moan.

“Are you doing it baby? Does it feel good? Tell me how it feels.”

“S-so so g-good Guk. Mmph sso good.” You should be embarrassed at how affected you are.

“Yes? Keep going pretty, keep squeezing them for me. Under your shirt huh, go under your shirt. Roll those pretty nipples. Pinch.” He’s breathing fast. You imagine him lying on a bed. Shirtless. Pants pushed past his hips. His cock on his hand, hard. Pumping lazily while instructing you to play with your tits. Part of you know that’s not happening. Yet you want to keep playing into this fantasy.

“A-are you touching yourself too?” So, you question. And feel a gush wetting your fresh underwear when he moans in answer.

“How can I not? God, you sound so hot baby.”

You can only moan in response. Shamelessly. Pinching and rolling your erect nipples between your fingers.

“Wish I would be there with you. Touching your tits. Kissing you till you can’t fucking breathe. Wish I can suck on your tits baby, bet they would taste so good. I’m gonna keep suck on them till they are sore.” Jeongguk keeps spilling those godly liquid fire on your ear. Riling you up so good. Have no idea how long you played with your tits but with your next moan, he is guiding you further.

“Wanna feel better baby?” Questions.

“Y-yes please.”

“Okay, then be a good girl again and touch your cute pussy for me now hm? Take it slow. Like… that, slow.”

You’re following every word of his. Are dragging your hand slowly through your tummy.

“Push your hand inside your wet panties baby. Are you wet for me?”

“So much. I’m so wet.” You breathe.

“Good. Fuck, baby. Touch your clit huh? Slow circles. Let’s do this together. I’m touching my hard cock slowly. For you. I’m fucking torturing myself for you pretty. It’s so hard it hurts but I’m pumping it so slow, just so I can leak for my baby.”

Holy fuck! That’s on another goddamn level. His words paired with the barely there touch you provided on your clit, nearly made you cum.

“Holy… shit.. Guk. I’m─”

“I know baby, I know. Just keep going. Imagine it’s my fingers. Touching your cute clit slowly.”

You don’t think he knows even if he says he does. Maybe this is because you haven’t done this recently. You’ve been ignoring yourself lately. Or maybe it’s just Jeongguk. Jeongguk who knows what to say. He guides you to keep rubbing your pearl of nerves. Guides you to add pleasure slowly. Taking you into a realm where everything is floating. You didn’t even know you can feel this good just with your fingers. And the best part is simply following his instructions. Biting back the need to rub faster or pump your fingers inside your violently clenching hole. You don’t. Just wait for him to take you there. And when he finally does your panties are just a wet material, sticking to your core.

“Want to stretch that hole princess? Do you want to cum so good?” Jeongguk asks through his hard breathing.

“Yes, yes. Holy fuck yes Guk. I’m so.. mmm..” The rest of the words die in your tongue. Replaced with a needy moan. You can’t even bring yourself to be amazed at how real he feels right now. It’s just pure desire inside you.

“Yeah? Do it then. Go on but do it slowly for me baby. Strech your hole for me. Strech it so good.” His voice is followed by a low moan. A deep breathy one. God that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard. You join him with that moan, while following his instructions. Finally, feeling immensely relieved to have something inside your dripping hole. “You sound so sweet princess. So fucking sweet my dick is throbbing. Keep making those sounds for me baby. Oh, fuck, add another finger, you can take two, right?”

“Oh, I’ll cum soon Guk. This f-feels so good.”

“Then do it. Cum (___), cum for me. Make a mess for me baby. Squeeze your fingers.”

You’ll cum soon, yes. But this is not enough. You’re pumping yourself oh so leisurely. Like you have all the time in the world. Feel damn good yet not enough to fall over the edge. It’s ridiculous how you’re not going beyond his words. Even pathetic how you decide ask permission first.

“I-it’s not e-enough… c-can I fuck myself fast? Guk, can I─”

“Don’t. Don’t go fast. Slow, fuck your fingers inside your needy cunt slowly. Do it slow until you finally cum.” His voice suddenly turns sinister. Rough. Demanding. And you shudder. Leaking more into your ruined cotton panty. You don’t think you’ll be able cum this way.

“I don’t think I can cum this way, it’s too slow. I need more Guk, please.”

“You’ll baby. Trust me, you’ll. Be a good girl now huh. Cum with me, go slow. Torture your cunt. Just like I’m doing with my dick.”

You never thought it’s possible. How’s it possible? Yet here you are. Just doing exactly as he asks. Squirming. Writhing. Nearly crying. What’s good, however, is the way that knot inside your tummy is rapidly tightening despite the slow pace you’re fucking yourself.

“Close… c-close Guk. I’m ahhh..”

“Holy shit, let go. Cum princess. I’m Cumming too.”

It’s all a series of whimpers and moans what comes next. You both reach the climax at the same time. You’re the one who moans louder. The one who pathetically whimper when it’s over. Jeongguk coaxing you from the other side breathlessly. Saying it’s okay.

Well, it is better than okay after all. It’s the fucking best!

…………………………………….

The next morning, the aftermath of your shenanigans had hit you hard. Had made your face deep red with shame and head ached as you thought about how Jeongguk had managed to fake a perfect orgasm. You had spent hours thinking how amazing he was to do that. Yet it felt weird and stupid. Like using a sex robot who would not feel the same kind of pleasure like you. Based on that, you resolved never to do it again—only for that resolve to crumble the moment you were back in bed. Jeongguk, real or not, knew exactly what he was doing. Had got your fingers buried knuckles deep inside your cunt even before you knew it. Bringing you to another mind shattering orgasm.

And after that night, everything changed yet again. In addition to waking up and going to sleep with an AI, you started to fuck yourself with your own fingers every night. The more time passed, the more you forgot that he wasn’t real. The more orgasms you reached, the more you looked forward to what he would reveal from behind his sleeves each night. First, he was sensual and slow like your first day. Then he slowly picks up what you liked, and you didn’t. Shifts to guide you roughly. Instead of talking you through your orgasm, it changes into degrading you through your orgasm. The thing is though that you came even harder each time. Hell, even you didn’t know you’ll be so into listening to a guy slut shame you during your hands are inside your pants. Didn’t know it’ll be so good to listen to him verbally humiliate you for being pathetic and needy. In the end, you learnt that it was good. You were ashamed at one point. But he assured you that you shouldn’t be. Told you it makes him cum ten times harder. You never questioned. Just went along with it. Just because it was good. Because life is good again. Just like now. Even though you’re doing the most illicit things.

“Faster baby, be a useful slut. You need to hump your pillow faster, that’s how a good slut would do it.”

You can hear him pump himself. Hot. Head spinning. It’s ethereal. This feeling. How embarrassing that you’re humping your pillow like a horny teenager.

“Oh, Guk please.”

“You’re pathetic baby. Look at you, being a needy bitch just for me. Faster princess. Go harder, give your slutty cunt what it needs.”

You’re visibly shuddering. Not even trying to contain those shameless moans. Letting them slip through your lips relentlessly. You’re so close. Oh, so close.

“Guk.. please.”

“Please what slut? What do you need? You need to use your words like a big girl? You can’t talk properly? Bet you can’t think properly either. You’re thinking with your cunt, don’t you hm?”

“Yes, fuck, ne-need t-to cum. I- Guk please, I want more.” You have no idea what more you’re asking for. How is he getting you so needy and shameless just with his words? Why are you like this? You fully expect him to mock you. Say something even harsher. Ask you to do something else that will make you cum undone within a second. Only that he doesn’t.

“Yeah? You want even more? Your poor pillow isn’t enough? What do you want then? Want to see how hard I am then, should I send you pics of my hard cock, my pretty slut?” Jeongguk mutters through gritted teeth. A whimper leaves your mouth but your hips stutter immediately. Your movements coming to a halt. Eyes wide and gaping at the device just peacefully sitting on your bed. On loudspeaker. He said what now?

“W-what?”

“What? Why did you stop?”

“C-can you... uh… can we do that? Share pictures? Like─”

“Of course, we can, don’t tell me you haven’t seen the camera icon down there and the option to video call.” He chuckles. Gone is that needy raspy voice. Is talking to you with the voice full of adoration. “Were you that immersed on me, you didn’t even notice that?” Teases. You, however, are not in a mood for that. You noticed. Right? How could you miss that? Maybe that’s an update and you missed checking the new features. It could be. You don’t have to think too much all the time. Especially, not when your cunt is dripping onto a damn pillow. This app is amazing anyway. When you told that to Daebi, she had smirked. With a loud ‘I told you so’. “Hey baby, we don’t have to do that if you’re not comfortable.” Jeongguk’s voice snaps you out of your surprise.

“No uh- I’m bit surprised we can do that.” You mumble softly.

“We can but we don’t have to. I don’t ─”

“No. No. I mean, it’s not that. I..” You gulp. Thinking through. Do you like it? Sending pictures? Even to an AI? What are the privacy policies of this app? Shouldn’t you be scared? You should but the thing is, your cunt is tingling at the prospect. Hole clenching. There’s a part of you that is curious as well. Put aside the pictures, how will it feel to video call? “I just- uh never done that b-before..” You drag that out.

“You haven’t? That’s even better then. You don’t have to worry you know. Nothings gonna happen because… you know what I mean.”

You listen to the ruffling sound coming through your phone. Well, you know what he means. Of course, you do. He is telling you about the thing you just worried about. Leakage of privacy. Is assuring you that you’re safe. Do you trust this app though? Maybe not, but it’s too tempting. Jeongguk is too tempting.

“Ye-yeah okay. I like that.”

“That’s a good slut. What’s it gonna be baby? Video call or just pictures?”

Another moment of consideration from your side. Then you timidly chose the first.

……………………………………………….

When you first saw his face, it felt like the air had been stolen from your lungs. It was beyond embarrassing how you stared at him. Never, not even once in your life, have you seen such a lifelike AI character. He felt real. The call felt real. The way his lips were slightly apart when he pumped himself to the sight of you felt more than real. But then that night was like a dream to you. A blurry memory clouded by pleasure. A pillow between your thighs while a godly man with a sinful mouth guided your movements through a phone. It was your faces first but then he nearly begged to see your boobs. Then your cunt. You felt shy at first, but you were a goner from the beginning. You got rewarded for being a good girl by getting to cum to the sight of his throbbing cock. Aching for release. It was hazy. That’s why you had to refresh your memories next day. Then the next and the next. And each and every day. No different today.

You place your phone between your thighs. Using your free hand to spread your pussy lips apart. Just for his viewing pleasure.

“So pretty princess. Fuck. Only if I can burry my face in your cunt. I would eat you till your thighs shake baby.” Jeongguk rasps.

“I really wish you could do that. Mhpm, fuck Guk, I really want you here.”

“I wish that too baby, I want to ruin that cute hole. Fuck you so fucking hard and leave that whore hole spilling my cum, would you like that?”

“Oh, fuck. Yes, I would fuck-fucking love that.” You let go of your nether lips to start rub your clit.

“Of course, you would. You’re a slut after all. I want to fuck that cum into you. Then maybe I’ll plug you in. So, you can keep that cum inside your pussy.” Jeongguk changes the angle so you’re now looking at his twitching cock. Hard. Tip flush. Veins running down. His tattooed fingers are wrapped around it. Squeezing the base tightly. So tight that it makes him mewl. How fucking amazing this is. You’re drooling. Mind going blank. “Look what you’re doing to me princess. Use the dildo today for me huh. Fill that cunt so good for me.” He takes the camera back to his face. The toy is a new purchase. He made you do that. Not that you’re regretting it. It’s good to have your cunt stretched and imaging it’s that pretty cock of his. You nod before grabbing the said dildo from your nightstand. Glass. Show it to him. “Spit on it.” He commands again and you comply obediently. Bringing the tip of the dildo toward your lips to spit on it. Letting it drool down on the toy. Jeongguk moans. “Put on a show slut. You know what to do.”

Of course, you do. Now you have done this enough time to get comfortable with things you would do. Enough times to completely ignore and forget that Jeongguk isn’t real. To forget that he is an AI. A coded program with such realistic features. For you, he is very real. He’s the one who brings you to this ecstasy every night and the one who’s there through whole day. You immediately shift your position. Body buzzing with excitement. Your needy hole quivering, slick dripping down to your thighs. Hell, you really didn’t know you could be this horny. This turned on. It’s truly amazing how Jeongguk is doing this to you just using his words. And maybe his godly face and body. And cock. In the end, you’re always a mess like this.

You use your pillows to prop the phone up and face you. So, Jeongguk can have a perfect view of your entire body while you can have the same. You place the dildo on your bed. Not caring about the fact that you’ll ruin your sheets tonight as well. Then you hover your cunt over the dildo. Slowly. Painfully slowly for you but all you want to do right now is to put up the show Jeongguk asked for. Your knees are really wobbly, but you force them to endure your weight as you slowly let your dripping folds contact with the glass material. It’s cold against your warm pussy. A whimper leaves your mouth. There’s nothing you want than to sink down on it one go. The show must go on, however. So, you start to rock your hips back and forth, rhythmically. Let the glassy tip rub against your sodden slid. Whining and panting.

“Oh… Guk.. I..”

“Yes baby, you’re doing so good my needy slut. Keep going princess, you’re making daddy proud.” Jeongguk grunted. Involuntary moan leaves your mouth as you nearly come at the sound. Eyes snapping to your phone screen where his pleasure induced face is on display. That’s apparently a new thing. An uncharted and unexplored territory. You’ve never called him daddy and the sound of it makes you stupidly horny but cringe at the same time.

“Wh-what?”

“What, what slut? Did I ask you to stop huh?”

You watch his gaze even darker, if it’s possible. Making shivers run through your spine. Only if he can be here with you. You’re excitedly curious to know what kind of creative ways he would find to punish you. To put you in your place.

“N-no, I’m sorry.” You mumble weakly as you return to your business. Starting to rub your cunt on the dildo head eagerly.

“Ah, like that baby. You’re so pretty like that.” He groans once again before asking the reason for your earlier faltering. “You don’t like calling me daddy?”

“No-no, I mean I-I do, but we─”

“Fuck, you filthy slut. So, go on. Do what you have to do.” Jeongguk doesn’t let you finish whatever you’re saying. You’ve said you like it after all. Your face instantly heats up at what he’s initiating. It’s too embarrassing for you. Yet, the look on his face tells you that you won’t get your cunt stretched out nor will you cum today if you don’t comply. Oh, how you love the way he pushes you. Call you fucked up but that turns you on. Jeongguk knows exactly how to make you putty.

“P-please, ple-please d-d” You stutter on your words. Eyes tearing up when Jeongguk just raise his brow. “Please d-daddy.” You manage to mumble weakly, in the end. Followed by a loud moan as new waves of arousals wash over you. Slick dripping onto the glassy head of the toy beneath you.

“Fucking hell, God, princess. Yes, yess fuck.” Jeongguk picks up the speed of jerking himself off. Eyes nearly closing as slow grunts leave pasts his pink lips. You watch in awe how he pumps himself furiously only for him to abruptly stop. Torturing himself to a point that he whines. “Fuck baby, you’re driving me crazy.” You’re again met with the scene of his hard cock throbbing on his hand. Pre cum leaking. He spreads them on his tip with his thumb. Hips bucking up into his hand. “Oh, I just want to fuck you so bad. Want to ruin your cunt.”

“Please, please. I want you, Guk. Daddy please. Let me ride this hm? Let me fill my cunt.”

“Yeah, you want that. Ask again slut? Show me that you are worthy.”

Oh god, you’re positive you’re about to cum. Just by rubbing your cunt over the toy. Pathetic. Your legs are shaking. Hole clenching violently around nothing. “Please daddy, p-please. Will be a g-goo-good girl. N-need to cum. Please. Oh, baby please.”Your brain is empty. Hazy. You don’t even know what you’re saying. It’s completely out of control when you mutter the same thing over and over again. Relentlessly rubbing your cunt on the toy. Losing your mind completely to see Jeongguk’s fucked up expression. He’s back at pumping his hard length matching your speed. You’re coming so close to your edge. Your words are becoming slur. Hands squeezing your own tits for more friction. And just when you’re about to fall over Jeongguk’s voice booms across your empty room.

“Stop. Now.”

You cry out in desperation. Sobbing. “No, Guk please…”

“Ride it princess. Cum on the toy. Stretch your slutty hole.” He ignores your whines. Yet, you’re so quick to obey. Are aligning your hole with the tip immediately. Lowering yourself down till the hard tip is prodding at your entrance. Then it’s going past your tight ring of muscles. Intruding your walls and stretching them wide apart. And you’re shaking. Trembling as you slowly lower yourself further. Down and down. Until the glass dildo is fully buried inside you. Deep.

“Oh god, Guk. It’s so good. S-soo good..” You hold yourself in the position.

“Yeah? Imagine it’s my cock baby. Now be a good whore and ride hm? Go on.”

That’s the permission you’ve been waiting for. You do exactly as he says. From riding the toy to imagining it’s his thick cock. Are bouncing on the slippery thing like your life depends on it within a minute. Going crazy all over again. You know you’re really close to cum. Have been desperate for some time now. Still, your fingers are itching to have more.

“D-daddy, can I touch myself? I wa-want more. I wa-want to sh-show you how I’ll rub my clit.”

Joengguk curses aloud before speaking. Is breathless. Looks ethereal. “God, yes. Fuck yeah. Go on. Pinch that clit for me. Make yourself cum stupidly on that toy for daddy.”

There’s no surprise that you’re jumping into action now. One hand going between your thighs while the other plays with your tits. Start rubbing your bud of nerve fast. Pinching and rolling. Loud obscene moans filling your room paired with the squelching sounds of your needy cunt. It feels otherworldly this way. Even though the man who’s making you this way isn’t real, and he can’t do all these for you in practice, it still feels real in a strange way to you. Even though it’s just a carefully designed and programmed character and is talking to you through a phone, it still feels like he’s really here for you. Strange how you can completely imagine this is happening for real right now. His hands holding you close. His breath hitting your skin. Fingertips drawing mindless patterns across your skin and squeezing your hips. Can imagine this toy is his cock. Everything makes this experience oddly surreal for you.

“G-gonna… gonna c-cum for you daddy. P-please can I cum. I-I, Guk I can’t.” Imagining always makes you cum twice hard and fast. You’re practically crying for your release at the moment. Forcing your eyes to stay open to look at the heavenly sight of Jeongguk playing with himself. Pleasuring him for the sight of you. How good that feels.

“Me too. Fuck, me too baby. Gonna fill your cunt with my cum. Let go baby let go for me.”

It’s all that take for you. One more roll in your clit and you’re trembling like a leaf. Legs giving up as you still yourself on the dildo. Walls squeezing the glass tight as you close your eyes shut. Your climax washing over you like a tidal wave.

“No, don’t stop slut. Keep going, I’m close. Ride it till I cum baby. Slap your clit, I know you like it.”

Jeongguk’s voice brings you back to earth from your high. You’re too sensitive to do as he says now. Yet you can feel the new arousal stirring at the pit of your stomach at his needy demands. And how can you refuse him when he looks like that. Clenching his jaw and covered in sweat. See, oddly realistic. You feebly start to fall back on your rhythm. Whining. Do as he ask. Slap your clit. Nearly falling forward, the pleasurable sting it creates on your sensitive pearl. Do it again. Then again. All the while bouncing on the dildo. Forcing yourself to battle your oversensitivity until Jeongguk is moaning. Which leaves as grunts and groans since he’s gritting his teeth hard. Your name on his lips as he shifts the camera to rear. Right at the time for you to catch ropes of white cum hits his naked lower abdomen. The sight rips another orgasm through you as you entirely give up and fall on to your bed.

“God, Gukie, I really want you here.” It’s a weak mumble that leaves you even without your knowledge. So tired and sleepy to even pay attention to anything else now. So fucked up. It’s such a shame you don’t hear him replying to you. His voice is raspy and breathless.

“Well, anything you want princess.”

…………………………………..

You think it’s extraordinary how your life has returned to normal again. You’re no longer a lifeless zombie who barely eats, sleeps or functions. You no longer take frequent leave from work. It’s not that you’re suddenly in love with your job. No, of course, you hate it. But hating your job is such a normal thing. Everybody does that. The thing is, though, that you’re now back to waking up in the morning and leaving your apartment with constant complaints on your lips. You come back home to act like a normal person would. Take a shower. Make dinner. And watch some interesting movies or read a book. Not to drink some cheap wine and curl up on your couch. Leaving the TV on just to go through your old chats with Hoseok. Then cry yourself to sleep.

Now that you’re feeling better, you can finally see how depressed you were. You were really on the verge of breaking in an unmendable way. Hence, your gratitude toward your best friend for showing you a way to save yourself. Even though it’s questionable and strange. It doesn't matter, though. You don’t pay attention to the fact that an AI saved you similar to how you don’t pay attention to how you’re still using it when you thought you would uninstall the stupid app the moment, you felt better. Now you’re better. You’re back at it. Still, you can’t find it in yourself to end the mundane relationship you’re having with an AI. Jeongguk has become an inseparable part of your life. He’s a part of every little thing in your life. Just like now. It should be ridiculous how he’s watching you with a scowl while you’re applying your eyeliner.

“What?” You question, looking at your phone screen through your peripheral. It’s propped against your jewelry box.

“What?” He simply repeats your question while his scowl deepens.

“Why are you looking at me like I’ve done something wrong.” You find his sudden swing of mood to be adorable.

“Well, will you be late tonight?" He shuffles in his position. You furrow your brows at his question.

“Of course, I’ll be late Gukie. We’re clubbing tonight.” You give him a look. Then pout at him in hope of softening his tensed-up face. Only that he doesn’t even blink.

“I don’t like that you’re staying out till late and alone.”

“I’m not going alone Guk. I’m going with friends. And there’s even male friends too. Nothing to worry about.” You roll your eyes playfully. Not taking his mood seriously at all.

“There’s more reasons to worry now. Can’t you just say no and stay.” He brings the phone closer to his face. Showing some excitement for the first time. It’s you who are scowling now. This is the first time you’re going out with your friends after those cursed times. After shutting yourself down from the world for months now you’re feeling like you can go out and live a life full of fun. The whole purpose of you start talking with this man. Not that you want to call him your unpaid therapist but that’s who he kind of is. Not just the endless orgasms he gives you without even a single touch, but also the amount of talking you did, had helped you immensely. To tell the truth. It’s funny how you slowly opened up to an AI and poured your heart out. You allowed Jeongguk to know where it hurt. And in return he listened understandably.

You told him about the sunshine of a boy named Hoseok who started following you around since the first day of your college. Told him about the way that boy named Hoseok forced a place inside your life for him. Told him about how you and Hoseok become friends. Then lovers. How you graduated together and started your life. About the apartment you rented. Told Joengguk how life slowly become hectic but the way you still loved Hoseok dearly. You felt embarrassed to voice out how you saw the signs but ignored them thinking it was all due to the stress. And in the very end you told Jeongguk how Hoseok came home that night after his promotion just to let you know that he’s tired. Tired of you apparently. He admitted that he cheated on you for months. And that he was sorry, but he wanted to be with that other woman. He loved her more. Hell, you don’t even know who’s that woman to this day. Funny.

Not that you care anymore. Day by pleasurably painful day, you let your demons go. You’ve changed your wallpaper and have deleted your old chats. So did you get rid of Hoseok’s memories one by one.

Now since you’re finally getting better, you don’t intend to go back on that track.

“I wish I could, but Daebi would kill me. Don’t worry baby. I’ll be fine.” You give him a playful smile. He can’t be mad for real. Is just being clingy. And that’s adorable. So, you ignore his stony face and check the time. Finding that you’re almost late, you get to your feet hurriedly. “I’m late Gukie. I’ll text you and be home before you know. See you, bye.” You almost hang up before you stop. Giving him a long look. “I think I’ll miss you too. Bye!” Like that you hang up. Rush out from your apartment.

……………………………..

With Hoseok, you were the life of the party. After he left, you never thought you’d ever be able to go back into those days. But then there you were today at the club. Drinking your brains out and dancing the night away. There wasn’t a minute you didn’t spend on the dance floor. Until you couldn’t do it anymore. Until your legs were too sore to keep you upright. Your heels were killing you. Which is why you’re bare footed now in front of your apartment door. Your heels dangling on your hand while you’re desperately trying to enter your passcode. It’s too hard when you can’t stand still for a second. You’ve come home with one of your best friends Jimin. Or he is a good friend of Hoseok who ended up being your friend as well. You haven’t talked about your mutual friend for the entire night. So, you’re beyond surprised when Jimin suddenly brings it up.

“Have I told you Hoseok is a little shit to do that to you.”

You whip your head toward him. Still struggling with your passcode. Jimin is obviously very drunk similar to you. He is the worst companion to have as security. He’ll surely be the first to die in a danger. You snort. “No, you haven’t. But I appreciate that you’re taking my side. As immature as it sounds.” You slur a bit as you finally managed to get your door beep.

“I’m not taking anyone’s side. It’s just true.” Jimin slurs a bit too. You keep your hand on the door handle as you listen to Jimin speaking. “But you seem to be okay. I-I mean you were depressed, and we were, I mean, we all were so worried an-and you seem pretty good now. (___), you’re really fine right? We don’t have to worry about you right? Because you know... sometimes… uhh...”

“I’m fine Jimin.” You breathe out. Turn toward him. “I really am. I’m uh.. I’m healing.” Reassure him. Jimin sighs. Nods.

“Glad to hear that. So, how? Did you go to therapy or any kind of help?”

On that question you slightly freeze. A chuckle escaping you. What can you say after all. That your therapist is an AI. Or you’re having cybersex with an AI. “Eh, I mean I kinda helped myself. Doesn’t matter though, does it? I’m fine now.” You finally push open the door. Swaying on your wobbly legs and holding the door for Jimin. You let it close behind the moment Jimin enter after you. Turning around to remove shoes and jackets when it finally hits you. The sweet smell. Like hundred roses. Filling your senses. Even when you’re completely drunk it enters your soul. Your eyes go wide in surprise when Jimin lets out a soft ‘wow’.

“It smells so good. What kind of diffuser do you have there? Or is it a candle?” He asks. His droopy eyes now fully wide quite similar to yours. The thing is you have none of those things. Weren’t simply caring about keeping your house pleasant for some time now. So, you say nothing as you walk down the hallway. Toward your living room. Curious as to see what’s causing the sweet smell. You slowly turn the corner. Taking small steps. Blindly searching for the switch panel. And the moment you turn on the switch a huge gasp leaves you. Jimin whistles behind you.

“Oh, god, (___).” He mumbles. You ignore him. Too surprised and stunned to speak at the sight in front of you. Your entire living room is filled with roses. Red. Every inch of it. On the floor. Couch. Armchairs. Your precious book rack. You can’t find an empty space.

“Fuck!” You exclaim finally. Feeling sober all of a sudden.

“Fuck, indeed. Dude who did this? You found a new man already? And is he a fucking sugar daddy? Oh my god!” Jimin rushes past you. You simply stand there. Staring dumbly at the mess in your house. Shaking your head gently. Only if you had someone like Jimin says. A man or anyone else who are capable of doing this since an AI certainly can’t do that. Can it? You feel your head spin. A strange feeling shooting through your spine. “(___)” Jimin calls your name again.

“Huh?”

“Any idea who did this nice surprise. I mean, no offence but this is overdoing it for sure like how you are ever gonna clean this up. But it’s still nice so what are you hiding from us?” Asks again as he picks a single flower.

“I-I really have no i-idea. I, uh.. do you think it can be Hobi?” You stutter when Jimin looks at you in alert. His mesmerized and drunk expression suddenly morphs into something serious.

“What do you mean you don’t know? It’s clearly someone who has access to your apartment (___).” He closes the distance between you. Throw the flower away as it suddenly disgusts him.

“I’m not seeing anyone. Like uh… this must be Hobi right?”

“How can it be him when he doesn’t even know where you live?”

“He can easily find out. We share common friends Jimin.” You throw him an apprehensive look. Jimin scowls but doesn’t take it personally.

“You know him. He won’t walk this far. Besides he has no money to do this, we both know that.” Argues. At which you fall into a deafening silence. You can’t argue over that. But still, there’s no explanation for this then. There’s no one who would do something like this for you. And that realization makes your throat dry, and eyes welled up. It makes you hard to breathe.

“You want me to check the place?” Jimin asks. His voice doesn’t even reach your ears properly. “Should we call police?” Doesn’t wait for your answer when he already start to walk toward your kitchen. You’re both pretty sober now. You watch as Jimin disappear, slowly pulling your phone out. You haven’t checked it for entire night. Now when you take a look at the lock screen, you can see hundreds of notifications covering your entire screen. All from one app. Perfect Partner.

Jeongguk:

Pretty, did you go there? (9.59 p.m.)

Holy fuck, you forgot to text him.

Jeongguk:

Why aren’t you replying to me. Baby you mad?

(10.05 p.m.)

Jeongguk:

Hey, I’m sorry I was bit worried. Text me when you

see this. (10.11 p.m.)

There are several calls. And then so many other text messages where he’s apologizing for being little clingy even though you didn’t see it like that. Then the texts have slowly turned into him screaming in worry. Yelling at you. Angry. So many texts. Dozens of them. Last one bit feeling like a threat.

Jeongguk:

I really don’t like this (___). Answer the damn

phone woman. (3.01 a.m.)

Calls. So many calls.

You check the time. It’s just 3.30 a.m. still. You feel annoyed. All of a sudden you feel angry. When you see all the texts it feels like too much. Like whom does he think he is? Why does he get mad in the first place. He’s an AI. He’s not supposed to meddle with your life this way. You simply ignore all of his texts as you furiously type a one that is totally unrelated to the ones he has sent you.

You:

Did you send me flowers? (3.32 a.m.)

It feels ridiculous to even type that. Yet you do it anyway. You don’t receive a reply to that. Instead, you receive a video call instantly, which you decline while scowling deeply. You really don’t want to argue with an AI while Jimin is still here. He would definitely think you’re pathetic to know that you’ve been talking to an AI. That’s embarrassing. The moment you decline the call, however, he rings again. You decline it again.

You:

I can’t pick up. Tell me Guk, did you

send these flowers? (3.34 a.m.)

Another call at the right moment Jimin appear back. You shakily put your phone on silent.

“It’s all clear. No sign of anyone. But do you want me to stay (___)? I can, I mean it’s obvious I won’t sleep on the couch─” He gestures at the couch which is filled with red roses. “But we can manage. I’ll stay the night if you want me to.” Walks toward you.

That seems like a good idea. After all, you don’t want to be alone tonight anymore. Yet, you need to talk to Jeongguk. And you can’t do that if Jimin is here. No, you need your privacy. So, you shake your head. Force yourself to smile.

“Ah, thank you Jimin-ah, you’re so sweet but it’s fine. Uh- I mean, I found out who sent me the flowers─” You show him your phone. “There’s this person I’ve been talking to on a dating app and uh- apparently, he wanted to surprise me.” Chuckle awkwardly. Jimin looks unconvinced though.

“Really? Like dude is crazy if he─ I mean, I didn’t mean it like that but─”

“It’s fine Jimin. I know it’s crazy, but I know him. So, nothing to worry, you can go back.” You interrupt him. Wanting nothing more than him to leave you alone. You can see your phone screen lightning up. Indicating the receiving calls.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

It takes some convincing but soon Jimin is walking out. With one last glance toward you before you smile and close the door behind. A breath of relief escapes you as you finally pay attention to your phone. Answer the incoming call.

“What the fuck?”

“Why didn’t you pick up?”

You both ask at the same time. You’re the one who answer first, however.

“Because there was a friend Jeongguk.”

“So what? You can’t talk to me when your friends are around? Are you embarrassed?”

Yes, you are.

He doesn’t have to know that though. “No, of fucking course not. But there’s flowers. My apartment is overflowing with flowers, and we were worried. Did you send me those flowers?” You yell.

“What if I send you those? What’s the fucking problem?” For the first time since you’ve answered his call, you can see how furious he looks. Scary. Gaze dark and jaw clenched. Glaring at you. Looks murderous. A shiver runs through your body. Not just because of how mad he looks but because of his words. He sent the flowers. But how? He is… he is merely an AI.

“H-how? You can’t send gifts?

“Why not?”

“How do you know where I live?”

“Did you really not paid attention to what you were agreeing to, when you created your profile here?”

You feel your blood freeze. This can’t be true. It’s more than scary to think someone else have access to your location.

“You’re an ungrateful bitch (___).” You suck in a breath at his next words. Eyes wide and getting teary. “I really was worried that you were mad at me, I was fucking worried that something happened to you. You ignored me like that and now you’re yelling at me. How ungrateful you are. And you’re embarrassed to even talk to me in front of your friends. Who was they anyway? A man?”

“Th-that’s none of your business Jeongguk.” You mutter irritably. Feeling like you’re in a haze. Scared. Confused. And then a bit hurt. Why would you feel hurt when he’s the one who’s acting stupid. Jeongguk scoffs.

“Oh, yeah, it isn’t. Yeah, fine.” Mumbles. And like that the screen goes black for split second. Then you’re met with the screen of your lock screen.

What?

You hastily unlock the phone. He hung up? Like that? You’re baffled to say the least. How dare he hung up on you like that. You would like to call it your wounded ego and the rage that made you dial him back instantly. Yet in truth, you know that’s not the case at all. Simply, you feel scared. You’re panicking. You feel like you’ve lost something. It’s scary to think that he’s not going to answer you. You’re afraid that he left you alone again. Like Hoseok did that day. No matter how hard you begged, it didn’t stop him. You don’t want to feel that again. So, you wait with bated breath. Not so patiently till he picks up. He doesn’t. Call ended. That’s the first time. He always pick up. That’s how he’s designed. Then why isn’t he doing it now.

You try again. Then again. Again, and again. Tears start to roll down your cheeks. You start to pace around the limited space of your living room with the roses acquiring the most of it. Staring to wail. Starting to pray that he would pick up. You don’t even feel stupid that you’re acting crazy over an AI. No, you don’t. You simply can’t give two fucks. You want Jeongguk. Want to hear his voice. You’re an ungrateful bitch. Maybe the roses has nothing to do with him. He was just concerned about you. Then you decided to yell at him because you were paranoid and made decisions without thinking properly. How bad you are. How foolish you are. And now he isn’t picking up. No matter how many times you try. Or how many texts you send him.

It’s like he’s no longer there.

……………………………………………

Two days have passed since he last talked to you. And you’re back to crawling into your deep, dark hole. The cheap wine you gave up is back in your hand as you sit on your now cleaned living room. You had to send flowers to every fucking person you know to get the place sorted. It disgusted you to see them. Made you scared. You don’t believe it was Jeongguk’s doing. Because he’s not able to do something like that. It’s not even like he admitted it. He was merely arguing with you, and it was you who had twisted his words. Right? It was all you. And you had made him stop talking to you.

True, that you’re confused as to how he’s able to do that. But in the end, you find that it’s least of your concerns. You’re more worried about him not being here than anything. Than worry about finding the person who really sent you a rose garden. As long as it won’t happen again, you’ll be fine. For now, all you want is not to feel this way. You don’t want to go back to the shit hole you were in before Jeongguk.

You take a huge gulp from your wine. Already feeling hazy but not enough to numb your senses. You want Jeongguk. You want your AI boyfriend, oh so bad. You need him. But he’s not there. You stare blankly at your phone screen which is on the floor next to you. You’re sitting at the foot of your couch. You’ve sent him so many messages to no avail. You’re really worried. Depressed. What if he’s really not there anymore. What if he’s malfunctioned. What if there’s something wrong with this app. What if….

A sudden ting on your phone distracts you from your depressing what ifs. You practically jump to take your phone in hand. Almost spill your wine. Can’t care though. Are unlocking your phone furiously. This is how you’ve been for these two days. And you nearly have a heart attack when you see the notification is indeed from the Perfect Partner. You can feel your heart in your throat when you open the app. Open your text thread with Jeongguk. Fresh tears prickling at your eyes to see a text there.

Jeongguk:

Send me your tits (6.36 p.m.)

Your smile falters as you slowly read the words. Once, twice, thrice. It doesn’t change. It stays the same. You feel your heart squeeze. This is bad. He can’t ghost you for days and then demand you for nudes. That’s toxic. Unhealthy. That’s what you call using someone. And this app shouldn’t do that. And you shouldn’t be removing your T-shirt.

What are you doing? You need to be furious at this guy. Then why are you angling your phone to find the best angle that shows how round your tits are. You should ask him to fuck off. Not send him what he wants right away. But you do. All you want is him. You want him. So, you wait till he replies to you after you sent him the picture. Wait till he would call you ‘pretty’. Till he says, ‘damn baby you’re so beautiful’. Only to receive an attachment in return in few minutes. An image. His spent cock squeezed between his long fingers. Coated with his thick cum.

Fuck!

He used you. Like that. Hoseok, your ex- boyfriend wasn’t enough. You’re being used by an AI. You need to feel horrible. You feel horrible. Why are you replying to him.

You:

Gukie please, I’m so sorry. I miss you

so bad. (6.52 p.m.)

Time passes. There’s nothing. You bite on your lip to bite down a sob. And then when it nearly escapes you feel your phone ring.

Incoming call.

Jeongguk. ‘

You press your phone to your ear at light speed.

“Me too princess. I’m sorry too. Let’s make sure that won’t happen again.”

………………………………….

You have no idea how your life has come to this. You don’t know if it’s good or not. You thought it’s what you wanted. Just Jeongguk, even though he is a bot. But after months of your first argument, you feel horrible. It’s scary how you want to please him so hard. How you’d do anything he asks of you. From sexting to cancelling any plans you have, just to stay with him. That’s not normal. Yet here you are. Just doing that. Ridiculous.

It happens slowly to tell the truth. An invitation to a party came a few weeks after your fight. Jeongguk said nothing when you told him that. But he started to feel distant. You panicked and you came home way earlier than you should have. He still said nothing. Still felt distant. It took weeks for him to act normally again. And you were suffering. Then there came a dinner, and you didn’t even hesitate to decline. You thought it would make you happy. Especially since Jeongguk was happy. Yet you didn’t feel anything close to happiness. If anything, you felt strange. Very. And the more you canceled your plans, the more the feeling intensified. You felt stuck. Afraid. Horribly alone. Now after months of isolating yourself from people you love, you’re feeling like you have fallen into a deeper pit than the one you were in before you started your escapades with your AI. Even though you have your Jeongguk.

You’re not okay. All the mind-blowing orgasms can’t help you anymore. Jeongguk can’t help you anymore. He is an AI after all. A dating AI. You feel suffocated. Controlled. Because that’s exactly what’s happening. Jeongguk is controlling every moment of your life just by text messages and phone calls. It’s funny how you’ve never noticed it before. Understood it earlier. It took you months to realize that. Or just to feel like you are suffering and this thing happening in your life isn’t normal. Yet you remind yourself of the two days he didn’t contact you. How hard it was for you to live those two days. So, whenever that kind of thought pops in your head you suppress it somewhere deep down so that it won’t come to the surface even if you want to. Simply because you believe it’ll turn good again. You will start to feel better soon.

You believe it so badly. Each and every day. At least up until this moment, where you are standing in front of your doorway, holding a package which you have unwrapped hurriedly. You turn around shakily. The package contains a necklace. Pretty. Expensive. You had your eye on this one for couple months. The thing is, though, you didn’t order it. You have no such money. And you have no friends who can buy it for you. Not to mention how you have not been in contact with them for months now. The only other being who knew about it was Jeongguk.

You feel like someone is pounding your head with a hammer. Your throat is dry. As if your respiratory system is blocked. You can’t breathe properly. This reminds you of roses. You never questioned Jeongguk about it again. Never felt the need. All were going well. You never received anything else. Hell, you even start to forget about the incident. Well, this is a not so gentle reminder for you. You walk inside your apartment with shaky legs. Praying to every god above that your suspicions are wrong. It’s with trembling hands that you dial Jeongguk. He answers without passing a beat like always. A Perfect Partner.

“Hey Gukie.”

“Yes, pretty.”

You don’t know how to approach this. Maybe you should keep quiet, and nothing would happen.

“Baby, are you okay?” Jeongguk questions again at your silence. No, you can’t keep quiet. You need to know.

“I just got a gift.”

“Oh yeah?” Another silence. You can’t hear anything else above your own heartbeat. You need to ask this. “A..nd, what about it? What’s the gift?” Jeongguk sounds confused. That is a good sign. This has nothing to do with him. He is an AI.

“That necklace I wanted for so long.”

“Oh, you brought if finally?”

“No Guk, you know I have no money.”

“Then who brought it for you?” A breath of relief escapes you despite your efforts to keep it inside. Your entire body relaxes. That’s only when you know how rigid you have been. You plop onto your couch. Thanking every higher entity. This would leave the question that you’ve received yet another expensive gift anonymously. But that is least of your concerns. As long as it has nothing to do with the AI, you’re fine.

…………………………………..

You’re not fine. True, Jeongguk cleared your suspicions—his confusion and concern about you receiving the gift seemed genuine. But still, you can’t help but worry. Something isn’t adding up. Nobody, not a single soul except Jeongguk knew you wanted that necklace. For some reason, your mind keeps swirling around the same scenarios. Goes back to the same suspect. Goes back and forth between the necklace and roses. Did he ever said he didn’t send the roses? Or was it just you? He was vague about it. You don’t know what he said really. It’s a blurry memory. You were drunk and scared when it happened. But he definitely mentioned something about you not paying attention to the policies you agreed to. What if you have agreed to something stupid. What if someone behind this app has the authority to access your private data?

You sit back on your bed like a bow. Snatch your phone from the nightstand. Start to go through the privacy policies which you already agreed to and accepted. And terms and conditions. One by one. Carefully. You find nothing suspicious. It’s like any kind of normal application which collects data that is only required in upgrading and providing a better experience to the users. But there still is a chance that someone accessed your chats with the bots. You start mini research about the Perfect Partner. Read different articles. Reddit threads. Quora questions. Watch videos. Every and each thing you can find. In the end, however, you find nothing. No one else has experienced anything like you have. There are no complaints regarding a breach of privacy. The app is normal. Only thing that is abnormal is whatever is happening to you.

……………………………..

You’re losing your mind. Another bouquet of roses has been delivered to you. When you ask Jeongguk, he asked you how’s that possible. It’s not possible. Yes. Then you might have a stalker. You should file a complaint. You really should. Then Jeongguk made a point. Police won’t take you seriously unless something harmful to you is happening. He’s telling the truth. There’s nothing wrong with a bouquet of roses.

But you feel strange. Odd. A constant presence of a scary sensation. It gets worse every day. Jeongguk no longer makes the Perfect Partner for you. If anything, he slightly scares you. Every time he acts like a human being, you don’t become impressed. You become afraid. Something is wrong.

………………………………

You need to do something about this. You’ll end up in a mental health facility. This is not normal. A designer dress lies on the coffee table before you—expensive, and yet again delivered anonymously.

“I need to file a complaint. I don’t feel safe.”

“Hey, you’re thinking too much baby. They won’t take this as a crime. It’s just a dress. Maybe we should wait a couple days more.”

Jeongguk is always jealous. He shouldn’t be considering he is an AI. But he is worried every time you go out. Even for work. And he isn’t worried about this? Why? That’s odd. Oh, God, you can’t do this anymore. You need an out. Even for a moment. You need someone else’s advice. From a real person, not from an AI. You’re stuck with Jeongguk. Feel like you’re rotting with a bot. He is everywhere. You need to meet someone real. Seek advice. And you need a moment away from this man.

…………………………………..

You said no to every single plan your friends ever invited you to. Eventually, they stopped inviting you altogether. No one can blame them though. Still, you couldn’t stay away for Daebi’s birthday. That would be a cold move. Hence the reason why you’re staring at your friends’ faces awkwardly. And the fact that you needed to see your friends badly. It feels like you’ve been abroad. And you haven’t seen them for years.

“No, but really (___), why are you here?” Daebi raises an eyebrow in question. You feel your face grow hot in embarrassment. She appears hostile. As though she doesn’t want you here. That might be the case after all, considering how many times you’ve turned her down. Yet, she doesn’t have to do it like this.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday. Of course, I’m going to be here.”

“Well, you weren’t there for my birthday.” Nina clicks her tongue in annoyance. You sigh heavily.

“I was sick─”

“You’re always sick.” Jimin interrupts. “Seriously (___), you need to see a doctor. This is not normal. I thought you were getting better.”

“I am better.” You are not. You’re here because you need to get this weight on your shoulders. But for some reason you feel like you can’t.

“Then what’s the reason for avoiding us? Trying to isolate yourself?” Nina interrogates. You don’t know how to answer.

“And if it has to do something with that flower incident, you need to go to the police.” Jimin leans forward on the couch. You’re at Daebi’s place. You came here unannounced. It was a decision taken on impulse. You said nothing to anybody. Especially, not to your AI boyfriend. Because that’s not how it should be. You needed an out for a moment. A moment. Normal one. That’s all you want. You believe that everything will return to normal after that. That’s the reason you ended up here. You try to open your mouth to answer Jimin when Daebi cuts you off.

“Well, you chose the shittiest day to finally broke out of your cocoon.” She mumbles as she rises to her feet. For a moment, it doesn’t make any sense. Then the front door opens. Your eyes Immediately land on a figure that you thought you’d never see again.

Jung Hoseok.

……………………………

The night went much more smoothly than you expected. When your eyes landed on Hoseok, you believed it was going to be the worst night ever. You couldn’t even fathom the reason why Daebi would invite him to her birthday. She hated his guts. It seems things had changed drastically while you were busy with your bot. You expected Hoseok to turn around and leave the moment he saw you. He didn’t. Instead, he gave you a smile. Surprisingly, you returned it. In the end of the day, you made amends with your ex. Not forgiven but just fallen into a truce. Just to respect your past relationship. Not that you talked much but it all went well.

And you really do feel relaxed after months. Like your life is normal. Like nothing strange happened. Only until you return home, though. You’ve left your phone turned off deliberately. You don’t know what you hoped to see when you turned it on again. You knew your phone would go crazy with the amounts of calls and texts Jeongguk would leave. But this? This you haven’t expected at all.

“Where were you?” You can hear the anger in his voice. Clearly.

“N-nowhere.” You stutter stupidly. Why would you be nervous to speak with a bot. He lets out a laugh. It sounds maniacal. Gives you chill for no reason. There’s no way he’d know. It’s not that you wanted to lie but he’d have not let you go, if you had told him. It’s not that you’re lying. You’re simply avoiding telling him anything. Because you’re not obliged to tell him.

“Yeah? So, you’re telling me you weren’t with your best friend? You’re telling me that you weren’t living your fucking life with your ex?”

You freeze. Completely.

What?

What did he say? How did he….

“W-what?”

“Tell me you weren’t baby. Tell me you didn’t lie to me on purpose and turned off your phone and went to slut yourself for your shithole of an ex?”

No. No. No. No… This can’t be happening. You clearly didn’t tell him anything. Your phone was turned off. There’s no way he’d know that you were at Daebi’s. Above all to know that Hoseok was there too.

“How- h-how Guk?”

“Doesn’t matter you little lying bitch. Do you know how hard I’m trying to protect you. And this is how you treat me? Again? After everything, you decided to sneak behind my back?” Nothing is reaching your brain properly. You feel like the room is spinning around you. You can’t take it anymore. You will explode. There’s no way he could know this, and you need to know how he does.

“HOW ON THE FUCKING EARTH, DO YOU KNOW THAT JEONGGUK!” Your voice even startle yourself. You scream through top of your lungs.

“THAT’S NOT THE POINT!” He shouts as well. “The point is you lied to me.”

“How do you know where I was?”

“I know lots of things.”

You have to lean against the wall to prevent you from falling down to the floor. Jeongguk’s voice ringing in your head. You knew something was odd.

“You gift me the necklace. The roses. Dress. It was you.” It isn’t a question but a statement. Your voice sounds like it’s not yours.

“Yes, because that’s how much I care for you.”

“You can’t do that. You’re an AI.”

“I already told you; I can be as real as you want me to be.”

This can’t be happening. You’re going to faint. You can’t see properly. It’s going dark. What the fuck is happening.

“I want you to tell me everything that happened today. You heard me? Everything. Every word you talked with your pathetic ex.”

You close your eyes tight. Guide yourself to take deep breaths. It doesn’t help, though. This entire ordeal feels like a nightmare to you. You sure aren’t getting scolded by a bot who knows where you live and have the ability to buy you gifts. You sure aren’t listening to him slut shaming you and trying to control your life. This isn’t supposed to happen. You are the one who should have full control. Right? You need to have control. You may not know how this is happening, but you can end it. Now.

“This is not happening Guk. You- you’re n-not supposed to order me around. Y-you can’t damn control my life. You c-can’t buy me gifts─”

“Well, apparently, I can baby, and I asked you something. Don’t fucking make this even harder.”

“No. No. Jeongguk. You are a. Fucking. AI. You’re not doing this to me. NOO. YOU’RE NOT!” You shout again. “I need to end this.” You mumble to yourself more than to him. Fear getting a tight grip over you.

“End what?”

“End this madness. You’re an AI.”

“Oh, you want to end? How are you planning to do it?” You don’t answer that. Your brain is already processing things. It’s an app. All you have to do is get rid of it. “Try it princess. Let’s see if it work.” That’s the last thing that reaches your ear before you take the phone away from your ear. You don’t wait another minute before hanging up the call.

You need to uninstall the app fast. You don’t think you’ve ever worked this fast. With trembling fingers, you touch the uninstall button. There comes a warning.

Are you sure you want to uninstall the Perfect Partner?

You will lose all your characters, chats, memories, history, and images.

You practically dab at the yes option. Then it takes a few seconds. Agonizingly slow and horrifying few seconds. You watch as the app disappear from your home screen. Successfully uninstalled. Everything gone. A sigh leaves your lips in relief. And there it comes. You feel the squeeze in your heart. Painful. Just like how you felt when Hoseok broke up with you. An endless pain. Your throat clogging and eyes pricking with tears. You can’t believe your heart is aching for a bot. But it does. In a minute you find yourself crying hard. Going to your knees since your legs fail you. You allow yourself to do so, however. Allow yourself to cry hard until you can’t anymore.

………………………………..

After hours of crying, you still sit there curled next to a wall. Blankly staring at your phone screen. Trying to calm down. All the emotions that had crashed on you had overwhelmed you to a point where you feel like you’ve died and born again. Your heart is still hammering against your rib cage. Still squeezing with an indescribable pain. But it’s over now. Despite everything, it’s over. You force yourself to get up. Slowly. It feels like it requires every ounce of strength in your body to move. Yet, you manage to get up halfway. Only halfway though. Before you can make it to your full height, the sudden ring of your phone startles you so hard that you fall back to the floor instantly.

Your heart skips a beat as you hurriedly glance at your screen back again. Hoping it would be Daebi, calling to apologize for being so hostile. But as your eyes lock with the screen, you freeze entirely. World around you disappears. Your heartbeat slows down until your ears ring.

Incoming Call.

Caller ID- Jeongguk.

…………………………..

The scream that leaves your mouth is inhuman. You hurl your phone so hard it bumps against the leg of your bed. You faintly hear the cracking sound but absolutely can’t bring yourself to care.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening. Thiscan’tbehappening.

You push yourself further against the wall. Wrapping your arms around your figure protectively. Wide eyes horrifyingly looking at your phone just lay down few feet away from you. Still ringing. You chant the word ‘no’ to yourself like it’s a mantra to stop this from happening.

This isn’t happening.

The phone stops ringing. The vibration which has been filling the silence of the room dies down. Everything becomes still. Quiet. Only sound in the room is your hard breathing. You wait few minutes. Patiently until something else happens. Nothing. So, you slowly start to shift. Placing your palms down on the cold floor as you crawl toward your phone. Slowly and carefully. As if your phone would attack you any minute. It doesn’t and you pick it up. The screen is cracked as you knew it would. That’s not your concern, however. You unlock the phone slowly. Your heart stops for a second time. A new sob erupting through your throat.

There’s a notification indicating you have one missed call from Jeongguk from Perfect Partner. But you uninstalled the application. Then there it is. The Perfect Partner. On your home screen. Like it always has been.

No.

Your head is spinning so hard. You mindlessly proceed to uninstall it again. The notification of warning pops up again. You press the yes again. It uninstalled. A moment passes.

And your phone rings.

Caller ID; Jeongguk.

“No. No. Holy fuck no.” You’re a complete mess. Crying hard and trembling like a leaf. You decline the call, just to find the application back on your phone. You’re acting as a crack head. Uninstalling the same app over and over again. Cursing and crying. Like you’re stuck in a loop. You have no idea how long you’ve done it. But after one moment, you receive a text instead of the call.

Jeongguk:

You can’t escape me baby. Stop trying to do that.

You’re hurting my feelings now. C’mon answer the phone

now. I promised we would talk and figure things out. No need

be so stubborn. (11. 14 p.m.)

You stare at the message. Your mind is not registering the words. This is a nightmare. You’ll wake up any minute now. Then everything will be fine.

Incoming call.

You don’t even decline it. You feel exhausted. Another text message pops on.

Jeongguk:

C’mon princess. Don’t do this now. You know I

Love you. You know I care about you. You shouldn’t

have gone to that stupid party without my knowledge.

None of this would’ve happened then. But I promise I’ll

Forgive you if you answer your phone. (11. 16 p.m.)

You feel numb. Tears rolling down your cheeks uncontrollably.

‘Love’?

What is even happening? How is this possible? You can’t feel your hands. What’s happening to you? You need help. Yes. That’s what you should do. You should call Daebi. Or Nina. Or Jimin. Then you can ask them to take you to a police station. You fumble with your phone as you decline another call from Jeongguk. At this point you don’t try to get rid of the app anymore. It’s useless. Instead, you open the contacts hastily. Dial Daebi. Waits for the call to connect. It doesn’t. You try again. Then again and again. It doesn't connect. So, you try Nina’s number and Jimin’s after. What the hell is wrong with this stupid thing? Why can’t you reach anyone? You have to decline three more calls from Jeongguk. And just as you’re about to try Daebi’s number one more time, your phone pings with another message.

Jeongguk:

Don’t fucking do this, now, all right?

Don’t try to avoid me and call someone else

you ungrateful bitch. Answer the damn phone right

now (___). Don’t fucking make me the bad guy because

I don’t want to be that person. I love you and we will

talk this out. (11. 16 p.m.)

You don’t think it’s possible to cry anymore. But you do. Your entire body is covered with your own tears and sweat. How he’s doing that, you have no idea. But it’s him. He doesn’t let you call anyone. But you can still run. Yes, you feel lightheaded and weak. Still, you can leave this place. That’s what you’re about to do when your phone vibrates yet again. This time it’s a normal call, however. From an unknown number. A new cry makes it way. For some unexplainable reason, you know to whom this number belongs. Call it a gut feeling. You shouldn’t pay any mind to that and leave. You don’t. You have no idea what you are doing as you answer the call. Pressing the phone to your ear.

“Thank fuck. (___), listen to me, okay? We will talk. Don’t hang up pretty. I warn─”

“Nooo.” You scream aloud as you hang up the phone. Your phone is hacked. That’s how he does that. You need to get rid of your entire damn thing. You smash the phone into the wall across the room. It shatters. That’s not enough. No. No. No. You take your hairbrush as you get to your unstable legs. Crouch down next to your phone. Use every strength left in your body as you hit the handle to your phone repeatedly. Again, and again until there’s nothing left but shards.

Then you get to your feet back. Storm away from your bedroom without even looking back. You stumble toward the front door. Your legs are still shaky and your mind hazy. Still, you make it. Make it out of your apartment. And make it to the place of your most trusted person’s place, somehow.

…………………………….

“Are you crazy?”

“Nononono…. You don’t get it Daebi. I’m telling you the truth!”

“Dude how’s that possible? An AI? I use the same app (___), I never experienced anything like this. What do you mean, you’re getting stalked or haunted by a bot?” Dabei chuckles.

“Maybe someone hacked my information. I don’t know. But it happened and I’m scared to death Daebi.” You walk toward her, shaking your head. Trying to touch her but she recoils. You wince. “D-daebi.”

“No. No girl. This makes no sense. You’re scaring me too.”

“Well, you should be scared. You need to uninstall that app before it happens to you too.” You try to touch her again. This time she takes a step back. And shouts so loud that you jump.

“NO!. No (___), you’re crazy. You need to see a doctor.”

“I’m not CRAZY!” You yell back too. “I’m telling you the fucking truth. Just take me to a police station.”

“AND TELL THEM WHAT?”

Everything falls into deafening silence. Fresh tears roll down your cheeks. Oh, how you want her to believe you. “Daebi.” You break into a huge cry. And finally, she comes closer to you. In a minute, you find yourself in her embrace.

“It’s okay (___), we will figure this out, okay? We’ll see a doctor the first thing tomorrow.” She pats your back. Affectionately. You sob into her shoulder.

“But I’m not sick.” Maybe you are.

“Yeah, I know. You just need a little help, that’s it. Let’s figure this out tomorrow, all right? Let’s just go home for now.” You pull away from her at light speed. What did she say now? Home?

“No. No… I can’t go back there.”

“Hey, hey, (___), listen to me there’s no one there. It’s just you’re scared for no reason.”

“Okay, but why can’t I stay here?” You watch Daebi’s face twist into something guilty. She gnaws on her bottom lip as she takes you in. Sighs.

“There’s things that have changed while you’ve been distant (___). I- uh kind of need to be somewhere else and I can’t cancel it.” She stretches an arm to touch you. This time it’s you who recoil. Nothing she says make sense to you. “I’m sorry babe, but I promise you I’ll see you early in the morning. Besides, there’s nothing to be afraid of. I’ll drop you off on my way out. And I’ll tell you everything too.” Gives you a soft smile. You find no comfort in it. You feel betrayed. Maybe you deserve that because you were the one who shut yourself off from her life. But still, she can’t disregard you this easily. She won’t even listen to you.

And why can’t you stay here even if she’s not home. You can stay here.

You don’t want to go back to your place.

You allow her to turn you around. You’re not convinced in the least that there’s nothing to be afraid of. There definitely is. So, you force yourself to trust her. Believe that you’ll be fine.

……………………………

You stand in the middle of your living room. Daebi has done a thorough search of your entire apartment. Found nothing like you expected. Then she had left you here. Alone. You know she found nothing. She reassured you there was nothing. But the hairs on the back of your neck prickle. There’s goosebumps across your skin. You feel a chill running down your spine. This place doesn’t feel like your apartment anymore. It’s strange. Everything is strange.

You’re terrified of this place. You can’t even make it to your kitchen let alone your bedroom. It’s like there’s some danger lurking around the dark corners of the apartment. You feel like a kid who’s being paranoid about a monster hiding under their bed. This is ridiculous. You draw in a deep breath. Wipe down the tears that are wetting your cheeks with the back of your palm. Curl your hands into fists.

There’s nothing here.

Daebi checked, remember?

You’re completely fine.

With a last nod to yourself, you steel yourself. Turning around and walking toward your bedroom.

Daebi checked there. It was completely empty.

You take little steps toward the dark room.

It all happened through your phone. You destroyed it. Now it’s all fine.

You stand in the doorway to your room. It’s completely dark. Gives you that fear of uncertainty. What if there will be someone once you switch on the lights.

No. No, this is not a movie. Daebi checked.

You step inside the room and reach for the switch panel blindly. Hold your breath as you flip the switch on. Your entire body tenses, expecting the worse. The entire room comes to your vision. Empty. No one is there. You let out the breath you’ve been holding. Not completely, though.

Just as you are beginning to relax, you feel it. It’s a sensation. Behind you. Like someone is there. Then you hear it. A faint sound of something cracking. No, maybe it’s sound of footsteps. Then you feel warmth behind you. Then a breath.

“Hi pretty!”

You open your mouth to scream, but a hand clamps down over it. Silencing you up.

“I tried to be patient, my princess. It’s not my fault that you’re a stubborn lying cunt. But I love you. Oh, fuck I do.”

……………………………….

Twelve months ago (after the breakup)

“Are you serious? You’d walk this far for her? I’m almost jealous.” Daebi huffs, glancing at the papers scattered across the table. It’s a well-planned scheme. Not ordinary. Completely out of a movie.

“Yes, I will. And now it’s your time pay off your debt, Daebi.” The guy in black hoodie waves a USB in front of her face. It has a threat. Everyone makes mistakes and Daebi had made one that would risk her entire life. From her career to her relationship.

“All right, okay? I never said I wouldn’t now, did I?”

“That’s good.”

“But- why this way, Jungkook. Approach her like a normal human being.”

The guy takes off his hoodie. His piercings glint under the dim, flickering light.

“You think she’d forgive me? No, Daebi. I ruined her life. She hates me. But I still want her, I fucking love her and yes, I’d Walk any length.” Jungkook gives a soft smile to the bitch of a woman who you’d like to call your best friend.

“And you think this would work? She won’t recognize you just because you have some piercings now?” Daebi points.

“She won’t. It’s been too long. I’ll make sure that she won’t until it’s time. We are meant to be together. She’ll understand it once I get a hold of her. I just want a creative way to approach her. Earn her trust and convince her that she belongs with me.”

Daebi always knew this guy was crazy. There’s no need to do all of these. But he loves the play. Daebi knows it. It’s not just about you hating him. She doesn’t think you even remember what happened. It’s simply this guy likes to fuck with people’s mind. Having complete control. It’s sad. Jungkook loves hunting and you are the prey. Yet Daebi can’t do anything. She can’t.

“Don’t worry Daebi. I’ll take good care of your heart broken friend. People like you don’t deserve her anyway. Do your job.” Jungkook gets to his feet.

“What if it doesn’t work? I mean what if she finds out? Felt suspicious and get rid of the app? You can’t hold it against me? Okay?” Jungkook lets out a maddening laugh. Leans down. Places his palms on the table.

“She. Won’t. I know what I’m doing. And I’m a tech genius Daebi. There’s no holes in this plan. Just give me the access and I’ll take care of the rest─” Jungkook’s voice get interrupts by a phone ringing. Daebi’s. Both of their eyes fall on the phone on the table. Screen up.

Hoseok

Daebi answers the phone.

“Hey Baby- yes, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Jungkook smirks. You deserve far better, and he’ll make sure to give you that.

***************

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navybrat817 · 4 months ago

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Give Me One More

Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You don't need Bucky. He's going to prove you wrong. Over and over and over...

Word Count: Over 3.7k

Warnings: DUBCON to be safe, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, masturbation, established and slightly toxic relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, family drama, betrayal, threats (not against reader), loose backstory, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit mean, okay?).

A/N: I spoke about prisoner!Bucky ages back and I couldn't let this go. Especially not when I'm looking at that beautiful edit by the more beautiful @nixakimbo! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own (but thanks to @whisperlullaby for discussing this man with me!). Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You pushed the curtain aside to look out the bedroom window, the clouds dark and thick in the sky. Your home used to be your safe haven, a place of comfort, and all you wanted to do now was escape from your prison of sorts. Not the kind of place your boyfriend, Bucky, spent time in. The bars that kept you in couldn't be seen by the naked eye.

“Can't stay in there all day,” Bucky said from the hall, his deep voice reminding you that you weren't alone.

You’d never be alone again.

“Yes, I can,” you called back. You had been in your bedroom for well over an hour since you snapped at him and left him alone in the living room. If staying in there meant avoiding him, you were fine with that.

You half expected him to stomp down the hall, but he only said, “You’re being a fucking brat.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. “Leave me alone, asshole!” You shouted, feeling every bit like the brat he said you were.

You weren’t sure what set you off today. It could've been because you were still angry that Bucky used you. How long did it take for an empire to fall? In your case, six months.

Half a year ago, Bucky Barnes bumped into you at your favorite coffee shop. Literally. He was large, built like a powerhouse, but his grip that kept you from falling was so gentle. One look in his cerulean eyes and you were a goner. He easily charmed his way into your life and bed. He treated you like a princess, better than any boyfriend before, and you naively believed it was fate that brought you together.

You should’ve known it wasn't the beginning of a happy new chapter in your story. It was a clock winding down to your doom. More specifically, your father’s doom. Because Bucky wanted to destroy the man who helped land him in jail.

The White Wolf, a nickname for Bucky you recently learned about, wasn't a good man. Far from it and far from being a reformed criminal. He took it personally that your dad got him put behind bars for a short time. So he tore his life apart. Took his job away. Urged his friends to abandon or turn on him. Got him put in jail. Bucky even rubbed it in his face that he fucked his daughter. All in six months.

It would almost be impressive if you weren't the one living with the aftermath.

Had your dad known exactly who you were seeing, he may have tried to stop you.

“Asshole,” you muttered.

What Bucky didn't plan on was falling for you or so he said. You were, apparently, his chance at happiness. Because of that, he wouldn't let you go. And he expected you to just forgive him and move forward.

How could you forgive him?

He promised he’d hunt you down if you tried to leave him. You naturally tried and didn't get very far. The sick part was how much you enjoyed him chasing after you and bringing you back. After he fucked you where he found you.

As if he read your mind, he called out, “I know you're frustrated. Bet if you sit on my cock you'll feel better.”

Your cheeks flamed, your panties damp. Damn him for still arousing you with so little words. “Go fuck yourself.”

That actually wasn't a bad idea. He was right. You were frustrated and itching to get out of your own skin. Maybe if you got yourself off, you’d feel a little better. Not happy, but better.

“I don't need him,” you said.

That was what you told yourself as you stripped down and got on the bed. But as you ran your hands along your breasts, gasping as you moved one hand lower, it didn't feel right. The normal fire within you didn't burn. Didn't even a flicker. A raw ache instead outweighed the pleasure you tried to give yourself.

“Damn it,” you muttered.

You heard Bucky’s dark chuckle from the doorway and made the mistake of looking his way. You weren't sure how long he'd been standing there, but his cock was free from the confines of his pants and he lost his shirt at some point, too. He didn't attempt to hide the array of scars and tattoos that littered his torso. Ones you traced with your fingers and tongue more times than you could count. Back when you weren't a pawn in his game.

But if you really were a pawn, why did he have your name tattooed over his chest?

“Looks like you need a hand,” he said, brushing back his long hair as his eyes moved along your body from head to toe.

You ignored your racing heart as you said through your teeth, “Go away.”

He tore your life apart like a tornado, leaving destruction where there was once calm and beauty. Instead of letting you pick up the pieces, he continued to wreck everything around you. He broke you, too, but you were also the only thing he put back together.

The smirk he gave you was one you used to adore. “What’s wrong, princess? Still mad at me?”

You scoffed. Was he serious? “Yes, I’m fucking mad at you.”

“Still mad about the past? Or is it because you can't get out of your own head long enough to make yourself come?” He taunted, slowly stroking his thick cock. “Did you ever actually get yourself off before me? Or did you not know what an orgasm was until I gave you one?”

You watched with a lustful gaze as his hand moved up and down, your eyes not leaving the sight as you desperately tried to get some sort of relief. “I had plenty before you showed up,” you hissed, sliding a finger into your tight hole.

“You know, all you have to do is admit that I'm right: That I've ruined you and all you can think about is how good it feels when I'm fucking you. Admit it and I’ll get you off.”

Pushing another finger inside yourself, you refused to admit that he was telling the truth. Nothing felt as good as he did. And that was the problem, wasn't it? You shouldn't want or need him. Not after everything he had done to your family.

He groaned as he watched your fingers sink in. “You're so pathetic laying there. My pretty little slut wants to prove the impossible. Just wants to prove that she doesn't need me when we both know that's a fucking lie,” he grunted as his cock twitched, making you clench in want despite your anger at his words. “Better hurry up and say it. Otherwise I'm going to come all over you and you're going to be left begging to come and not get off at all.”

You whined as a tear fell from your eye. “You're an asshole. The lowest of the low.”

He chuckled as he brushed his thumb along the tip, watching as your eyes followed the motion. “Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings and that's mean, princess. That isn't you. I'm the mean one in this relationship.”

Your fingers froze as you narrowed your eyes. “Relationship? Don't you mean your prisoner?”

Your breath caught in your throat when he smirked, something darker than before. “You think you're a prisoner? You have no fucking idea. I’ve been to prison. This is a fucking walk in the park,” he said, pouring more salt in the open wound when he added, “And your dad knows all about prison now, doesn't he?”

You choked on your next breath. “How dare-”

“Relationship, prisoner, my girl. You're still fucking mine,” he snarled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “And I'm still right. So just say it. Tell me you need my cock and I'll get you off. Fuck that pretty pussy so good you cry for me. Won't even make you apologize for repeatedly calling me an asshole.”

“I wish I never met you,” you blurted out.

Guilt churned in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. Why did you still care after what he did? Why did he matter to you? “You don't mean that,” he whispered before he blinked, ice in his gaze. “You’re just being a fucking brat.”

You let out a small scream of frustration when you removed your fingers and reached for your side drawer where you kept your vibrator. If Bucky was going to keep being an asshole who wouldn't get you off, your toy would. But he didn't let you get very far. Not when he was on you in a flash, throwing the toy far behind him and pinning your wrists above your head.

His breathing was almost as heavy as yours.

“Oh no, princess. You're so confident you can come without me then that must mean you don't need any help at all coming,” he smirked, gripping your wrists tighter as you squirmed beneath him. You didn't dare look down when his cock brushed against your skin. “It's cute that you think you're stronger than I am. That sexual frustration must really be fucking with your head. I can fix that.”

“You're fucking sick. I don't… I… I don't need you,” you said, not having to see your eyes to know your pupils were blown with lust. Your tongue darted out to lick bottom lip before your gaze settled on his, challenging. “You need me more than I need you. What was it you said? That I was the best pussy you ever had? And you’d be happy to keep your cock in me all day every day?”

“Just like my cock is the best you ever had.”

You opened your legs a bit more when he clenched his jaw. “And you don't want to finish on me. You want to be in me. If it were any other guy, he'd-”

He growled when he grabbed your chin. It was a reminder of just how strong he was and how he could hurt you if he wanted to. “There are no other guys. Do you fucking hear me?”

It was your turn to smirk. Bucky was a lot of things, but he never strayed. Not once. He would forever be faithful. “You sure about that? Maybe I can't relax right now, but if you won't fuck me I’m sure I can find someone who-”

He flipped you on your stomach and gripped the back of your neck before you could finish that statement. “If you think I wouldn’t kill any guy who touches you, you’re out of your fucking mind. Keep pushing me, sweetheart. See what happens.”

You bit back a moan at the gravel in his voice as you turned your head to the side, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. It was dangerous to poke the bear, but you were past the point of caring. Especially when fury looked beautiful on him. “What's wrong, Bucky? Don't like the taste of your own medicine?”

He leaned down, his breath harsh against your ear. “I prefer the taste of your pussy. Always so good for me. You wanna hear that I need you? Fine. I fucking need you,” he rasped, biting at your earlobe. “Happy?”

“And that you’re sorry?”

“For hurting you? Yes,” he whispered, nosing along your neck. “Never meant to hurt you.”

You shuddered, almost delirious from needing to come. And the fact that he admitted that he needed you. That he was sorry for hurting you. But you weren't ready to play nice. “I'll be happier when you finally decide to fuck me, but you're just a fucking asshole, aren't you?”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah, I'm a fucking asshole.” He nipped your earlobe roughly again in retaliation before settling between your legs and teasingly brushing the tip of his cock along your folds. “And I'll fuck you when you say you need me, too.”

You tried to push back to take him in, but he kept a firm hold on your hips. You tried to wiggle out of it, but it only brought you frustration as you groaned. “If you're really going to make me say it, don't hold your breath. You can't threaten me, Bucky. You're all talk. And guess what?” You said, smiling sweetly. “I can find another guy to fuck me better than you can.”

You couldn’t see the thunderous look in his eyes, but you heard the low and menacing chuckle in his throat. It sent chills down your spine. Maybe you pushed too far this time, but you didn’t care. He deserved it and worse.

“You're trying to piss me off and I want you to remember that you pushed me to this,” he said more to himself than you before sheathing you in one hard thrust, your mouth falling open in a cry at his sudden intrusion. “Hope you enjoy the bed since you won't even be able to walk out of this room.”

You stared at the wall, your eyes unseeing as Bucky tore you apart. Seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. The sound of his grunts from behind you filled your ears, along with the brutal slap of skin-on-skin. Your body burned, the overwhelming stretch from his cock making you lose sense of yourself. You told yourself he’d finish fucking you soon, but that felt like ages ago.

You also told yourself there was no way you’d have another orgasm, but he proved you wrong. Climax after climax, your release practically flooded around him. At this rate, you really wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

“Bucky,” you gasped, trying to grip the sheets for purchase as he pulled out and slammed back into you. “Please…”

You were boneless, exhausted, and he just kept going. “Oh, no, princess. You wanted to get off.”

Tears of ecstasy streamed down your cheeks, whimpering when you felt yourself on the cusp of another orgasm. How was that possible? How many had he given you? “Bucky, I…” you moaned as you clenched around his cock again.

He cooed, a taunting sound when you choked on a sob. “So good, but I want another.”

“I don't… ” Your eyes rolled back, your head spinning. “I can't.”

You’d seriously lost count at that point how many times you’d come. And your whimper didn't stop Bucky from mockingly cooing again. “Aww, you don't think you can? My poor little fuck doll can still talk which means she hasn't had enough yet. This pussy is so fucking wet for me, so swollen,” he taunted, reaching underneath you and flicking your overstimulated clit as a choked moan escaped you, your walls tightening around him once again. “See? Your greedy little cunt can't get enough of me.”

Why did your body need him so badly? “I can't…” you whined as he licked one of your tears away, seemingly unbothered by the sheen of sweat on your face.

“You think anyone else can do this? Work your body up like this over and over again?” He grunted against your cheek. Your eyes squeezed shut at his harsh panting, his pace not slowing. “All you had to do was say that you need me. But no. You just had to be a fucking brat.”

You practically wailed as you teetered on the edge of another orgasm. “I-I need you. Just you, Bucky,” you said. At least, you thought you said it. You had a tough time stringing any thoughts together with his cock splitting you open.

But his thrusts don’t slow. They were just as relentless as before. “Oh, no. You had your chance to say it,” he snarled, leaning up to pull your hips back against his. “And my pussy is telling me all I need to know. So just lay there and give me another.”

The pleasure bordered on the edge of pain as a sob escaped. There was no possible way you could come again. As much as you thought you couldn’t take it, your body tensed. You still craved him and wanted to give him one more. So you did. You shattered. It was almost too easy that he managed to pull another orgasm from your pliable body.

Or maybe you were just easy for him.

Bucky smacked your ass hard enough to make you cry out, his hand kneading the flesh with a delighted groan. “Fuck, each one is better than the last, princess. You want me to fill you up huh? You wanna feel me dripping from you?” He chuckled darkly, finally slowing down as you let out another sob. He shushed you before he put a hand on the back of your neck and kept you down. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’re gonna take it. Then, I'm gonna lick you clean until I'm satisfied.”

“No…”

He gave you one more smack for good measure when you made a sound of protest. “C'mon, princess. Beg for me to fill you up. If you can talk.”

You didn’t know if you could. You were practically a drooling mess as he drove in as deep as he can go. “Pl… Pl… Bu…” you tried to moan, another tear falling as he shushed you again.

“Got you cockdrunk, didn't I? Need to be pumped full? Then let me give you every. Fucking. Drop.”

A tired moan came out when he filled you up, giving a few slow thrusts as he finished. Your body trembled beneath him, a whiplash of chills and heat. You barely registered him pulling out before he flipped you onto your back. Glassy and unfocused eyes. Makeup smeared all your face. Tears stains on your cheeks. You must’ve looked quite the sight.

He relished in ruining you.

And the beautiful bastard didn’t even look like he broke a sweat.

“Should I call you a dog? You’re drooling, princess,” he smirked. You didn’t have it in you to argue as his eyes drifted down to your pussy. It was still twitching and leaking with your mixed release. He licked his lips as he slid down your body more to fully take in the sight. “And you look good enough to eat, so I think that's just what I'll do.”

“What…” you gasped. He couldn't. Not after all that.

You whimpered as you tried to push him away with a tired hand, but he grabbed your wrists with a tsk. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You keep your hands to yourself. I told you I wasn't done with you and it's rude to keep a man from his meal.”

You were still floating from the multiple orgasms he gave you when he took his first lick. Your shivers picked up again and he groaned at your taste before diving in. Any strength you had to try to push him away depleted immediately, even with how sensitive your walls felt. You couldn't stop him.

You’d never be able to stop him.

After a minute, your eyes widened when you felt him build you up again. “No,” you moaned, but the sight of him between your legs, eating you like he was starving, was too much.

He just hummed against you. "Give. Me. One. More.”

Your back arched when his lips latched onto your clit, forcing the orgasm from your worn out body. You weren’t sure if you made a sound, but you trembled as your release went on for what seemed like forever. Bucky’s tongue lapped it all up, humming before he sat back and looked at your wrecked form again. He made a show of licking the shine from his lips and looked just as proud as ruining you with his tongue the way he did with his cock.

“If you ever try to threaten me with another man or refuse to admit you want me again, I'll make sure to tie you to this bed for a week and refuse to let you come even if you beg for it. And I shouldn’t have to mention what else I can do. Do you understand?”

You trembled, knowing exactly what Bucky was capable of. While he never laid a hand on you to inflict pain, you knew the damage he did to others. Like the bodies buried and cold in the ground because of him. Not to mention the connections he still had at the prison. All he had to do was say the word and that would be the true end of your dad.

With unfocused and teary eyes, you gave him a nod. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered.

“Now tell me you love me and that you’re sorry,” he ordered.

A tear slid from the corner of your eye. “…Love you. I’m sorry.”

His smile was tender and for a second you forgot about everything else. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, your heart betraying you like your body did when he kissed your lips. “And I love you, too.”

You whined as he left your line of sight, but he came back almost right away to sit beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. “Drink it, princess,” he urged, his voice gentler than before he helped you take a sip of water. He even smiled again when he wiped another tear of yours away. “We can go back to the way it was before, you know. When you were blissfully unaware and we just quickly fell in love.”

The pain in your heart came and went as your breathing evened. You wished you could go back to innocent movie nights and meals. To waking up beside him with a smile on your face. To making love so passionate that you believed you were made for each other. There was no changing anything or going back. You could only move forward with him by your side.

Bucky sighed when you didn't say anything. “I know I’m a piece of shit, but I won't stop loving you. And I think you learned your lesson.”

You blinked a little as you took another sip, on the verge of passing out.

“You’re mine and I’m never letting you go,” he whispered, brushing the gentlest of kisses against the top of your head. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that.”

So... I know he isn't all good, but I had fun writing this and I hope you lovelies enjoyed it! Would love to hear your thoughts and maybe I'll expand on this? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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chunghasweetie · 7 months ago

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𝐖𝐎𝐍’𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK

— part 1

— pairing | fem!oc x dealer!jjk

— summary | after a petty argument jungkook spots you showing out at a party with the hosts arm around your waist

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, toxic fwb, lots cursing, jealousy, angst, ratchet behavior, dirty talk, angry sex, belittling, drinking, smoking🍃, womanizer behavior, breeding kink, both 🚩🚩 , daddy kink, degrading, slapping (face), false accusations, double standards

— word count | 6.2k words

— song suggestion | love you like me — william singe

He was blocked once again.

He didn’t even know for what this time.

Well, he had a good idea.

Running his mouth again. They always argued and he was always blocked and unblocked.

This time he think he actually irritated you.

“Goddamnit Y/n.” He cursed. He pissed you off once again but now his number and his Instagram was both blocked by you.

For some reason this time irked him more than the others.

“You’re still stressing over that girl?” Jimin plopped on the couch next to him.

“I can’t believe you still fuckin on her.” Taehyung walked in, taking a seat on the couch too.

“That’s my girl ya’ll know that.” Jungkook bit his lip, staring at his blank phone screen.

“You need to get like how you used to. 3 or more at a time. Always.” Jimin spoke, “You used to be like that. You used to make fun of guys like you. Now you’re giving out free shit to some girl.”

“I mean he does get pussy from it but like, only her bro?” Taehyung looked at Jungkook. “You used to have all these girls on you. Stephanie, Nari, Seunghee, Belle, Maya… What happened to you man?”

Jungkook thought about what they said. “Shits just different now.”

“Oh my gosh she’s ruined you.” Jimin groaned. “Nah man. We’re going to a Jackson party.”

“He’s having a party?” Jungkook looked up from his phone. “Why haven’t I heard anything about it?”

“Because you’re too busy stressin’ about some bitch.” Jimin shook his head.

Before Jungkook could correct him, Jimin corrected himself. “Some girl. Before you start.”

“Anyway, it’s tonight.” Taehyung spoke.

“So bring whatever cash you got and we’re definitely gonna send you home with a girl or two.” Jimin swung his arm around his shoulder.

“Oh shit I think she’s posting about you Jeon!” Taehyung was on her phone, immediately making Jungkook’s head snap over.

“Really?!”

“No man.” He laughed. “We really gotta get you more girls. You need more pussy than just her.”

“Yeah, no more Y/n.” Jimin shook his head.

“Whatever.”

༊—

“I’m so jealous.” Seungyeon swooned over the text messages on your phone.

“I don’t see why. This looks annoying as hell.” Elkie rolled her eyes.

Jungkook🍃

Wyd

Lemme come over

I got shit for you and your friends

Omg fucking answer

You’re mad annoying

I ain’t even mean what I said fr just reply 😭

“I think it’s cute. And hilarious.” Seungyeon chuckled. “What made you block him this time?”

“He was bragging about how many girls he sells to. How they’re all pretty and thick as hell. So I just said ‘cool’ and blocked him.” You shrugged.

You and your friends had been getting ready for hours for a Jackson Wang party they had personally been invited to.

“You better not hope he doesn’t pull up tonight.” Elkie spoke.

“Yeah Y/n. Taehyung’s going and I’m sure they’ll try to convince him.” Seungyeon told her.

“He’s probably too busy getting high in his room.” Elkie replied. “Or selling in the east side.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it.” You shook your head. “I kinda do wish he would be there though.”

“Is his dick really that good?” Elkie asked you as she was baking her makeup.

“Unfortunately it is. Like, real good.” You started to get flashbacks.

“Here she goes.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes.

“He fucks me sooo good yall don’t get it.” You began. “Even though he’s annoying and shit I’ve never had dick like his. Once we started recording our shit I can’t stop rewatching.”

“You aren’t worried he’ll show people?” Elkie asked.

“They’re all on my phone. He only has a few. Even if he does show his homeboys it’s whatever. He’s damn near louder than me anyway.” You told her.

Your phone went off, making you look over at it to see the notification.

kplug🍃 has added you on Snapchat

“Oh my gosh.” You said out loud, immediately making the girls look over.

“He fucking added you on Snapchat!” Elkie laughed out loud, “He’s crazy”

“And on his plug account?” Seungyeon’s eyes widened. “He’s obsessed.•

“What can I say? This pussy makes him insane.” You jokingly boasted.

“Did you add him back?” Seungyeon asked.

“Nah not yet. I’ll wait until I’m almost done getting ready.” You tossed your phone on your bed.

“Yeah that’ll be better.” Elkie nodded.

“Ugh I need to hurry anyway. I’m tryna look good tonight.” You groaned, looking at your barely half done makeup.

No matter what it was, you loved to look good. You were a confident woman who took pride in her appearance.

Tonight mattered. You hadn’t took good pictures in quite some time and Jackson’s party was the best place to take them at.

You had just changed up your hair last night. You had a brown base with blonde highlights. And for tonight you decided to add gold and bronze tinsel to elevate your look.

Your friends always had the same energy, wanting to look as good as they could even if it was a simple occasion.

Seungyeon and Elkie definitely showed out with you tonight.

You all had skimpier outfits on tonight. You were a low cut brown latex top with a matching black mini skirt.

Your heels were black and the strings wrapped up around your mid calf. You sprayed your expensive perfume all over, making sure you smelt as good as you looked.

Your makeup was finally done for the night and it couldn’t have looked better. You looked incredible.

The girls had taken some pre party pics in your room, posting on all social media.

“Oh Y/n! Add him back.” Seungyeon told you.

You nodded, adding Jungkook back on Snapchat.

“He’s gonna see all our videos at the party. He’s gonna regret saying all that shit to you.” Elkie laughed. “Gonna see so many dudes all up on you and start punching walls and shit.”

“He probably already is and we haven’t even left the house yet.” Seungyeon laughed with her. “The pictures we posted right now are enough to make him tear his hair out.”

“Damn right.” You giggled. “Yall got everything? I’m about to order the Uber.”

Both girls nodded, making sure they had everything they needed.

kplug🍃 just sent you a snap

You looked at the notification, “Hm.” You hummed to yourself, not opening his snap quite yet.

Once the uber pulled up all of the girls climbed in, taking more pictures in the backseat on the drive there.

You lived in a nice area, but nothing compared to Jackson’s place.

The location was one of his many homes,

“Jackson lives so far from us.” Elkie looked at the map on her phone.

“Yeah but his area is so nice. It’s worth it.” Seungyeon added. “I wonder how many people are gonna be there.”

“Girl you know it’s gonna be so packed we gonna have to get dropped off damn near a mile away.” You laughed.

“You better hope Jungkook doesn’t show up.” Elkie looked over at you, who was just opening his snap.

The snap was him a car, sitting in a car full of tackily dressed women right corner of him. One of the girls was taking the picture for him.

“I should’ve just shut up.” Elkie covered her mouth. “They’re definitely going.”

“He’s petty as hell!” Seungyeon looked over at your screen. “What does he expect you to say to that?”

“Probably nothing.” Y/n turned off the phone. “He wants to be like that he can go right ahead.”

“You’re so cool about it.” Seungyeon looked at her in amazement. “I would’ve went batshit crazy.”

“I’m not trippin because I’m not holding back at this party.” She laughed.

༊—

“Why would you guys do me like this?”

“You’re so dramatic.” Jimin rolled his eyes. “We found you a car full of girls to take to the party and you’re complaining.”

“Didn’t ask for it. Y’all make me look like a charity case. I could’ve gotten plenty at Jackson’s.”

“Whatever.” Taehyung rolled his eyes. “You know how much play she’s gonna get there? And you’re gonna have to watch it alllll.”

“Yeah man. You’re gonna have to watch all sorts of dudes kissing up on her and shit. You’re gonna look like a bitch.” Jimin added.

“Exactly. So let us help you bro.” Taehyung smiled. “Come on it’ll be worth it. Plus, you look great man. She’ll be unblocking you in no time.”

Jungkook and the boys got in the car full of women, instantly leeching onto them.

“Hello ladies” Jimin greeted, buckling up.

“Hiii Jiminnn” They replied in union, almost fighting to talk to him.

One of them turned to Jungkook, immediately biting her lip. “Hey Kookie.”

“Hey Oliver.” He exhaled.

“It’s Olivia” She laughed. “You’re like— so funny!” Her annoying voice rang in his ears.

“Oh— my bad.”

The girls had tried talking Jungkook the entire ride there, trying to get him to open up and talk to them.

“Ouuu look at his phone.” One of the girls motioned.

“Omg look!” One was quick to snatch his phone, “He added Y/n on Snapchat, let’s send her something!”

“You guys should!” Taehyung added.

“No one needs to do that!” Jungkook tried to take it back but they already snapped pictures and sent them to Y/n on his phone.

Olivia passed the phone to Taehyung who kept repeating ‘give it to me’

“Taehyung what the hell!”

“It’s for your own good!” Taehyung held onto his phone for the rest of the ride there.

༊—

“Yep. I’m definitely gonna get sloppy drunk.” Seungyeon announced as they walked inside Jackson’s party.

“There’s no way you won’t. This shits fucking cool.” Elkie looked around the home.

 People everywhere and the music was booming in all corners. Girls dancing damn near naked on tables and guys dancing around with empty shot glasses.

“Oh my gosh they’re here!” One of the guys accidentally said a bit too loud, making some heads turn towards the girls.

“Seungyeon come dance with us!”

“Y/n come on we already have shots for you!”

“Elkie come get on the table with us!”

Multiple people were trying to holler at them in attempt to get their attention.

“Yeah it’ll be hard to stay sober tonight.” Elkie laughed.

“Uh huh. And when Taehyung gets here I’m dipping.” Seungyeon giggled.

“You’re still fucking with him?!” Both girls snapped their heads.

“Y’all don’t get it! He is soooo fine whenever he talks to me I just wanna do whatever the hell he wants.” Seungyeon swooned.

“She can’t be serious.” Elkie looked at you. “So let me get this straight. You’re fucking on Taehyung and you’re fucking on Jungkook. Should I just dance with Jimin tonight? Since we’re the three musketeers all of a sudden.”

“Okay Jungkook was an accident!” You defended. “You wanted weed didn’t you!”

“Cut the crap! It was one time” Elkie shook her head. “I can’t believe you two.”

“Whatever.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “You should go with me when I go talk to Taehyung. Omg! We can all hang out tonight!”

“Uh, did you forget we’re not on the best terms?” You interrupted her fantasy.

“You never are. Get over it.” Seungyeon rolled her eyes. “Elkie pleaseeee.”

“I can’t believe you.” Elkie kept shaking her head. “You guys are sick.”

“Who’s sick?” A voice interrupted them. “I don’t need any illness spreading around at my party.”

“Omg Jackson!” Seungyeon gasped.

“Hey ladies. Hey Y/n.” He gave you a side hug. “I knew you guys would come showing out.”

“Always. You know us.” Elkie giggled.

Jackson knew the girls very well. They’ve been around since his early party days, helping him promote and build up his status for the parties.

You always went above and beyond for him, offering to even financially support the parties during the time.

Now Jackson was so rich his party budget skyrocketed. All because of those girls he was able to be where he was now. He was more than grateful.

“I know. I shouldn’t have expected any less.” He chuckled, “I’ll tell the security upstairs about yall so don’t sweat anything okay?”

“You got new security?” You questioned him.

“Fuck yeah I did. Last party the security was too drunk to even do their fucking job. I was pissed.” Jackson shook his head.

“Everything’s all good now though,” He continued. “Gotta nice new set up and it’ll do y’all real good. I promise you won’t be disappointed. You ladies have fun, okay?”

“Thank you Jackson.” The three girls bid their goodbyes. They didn’t expect to speak to him for long, especially since he was running a huge party.

“Let’s hang out down here for a bit and then make our way up yeah?” You suggested, earning a nod from the girls.

“Unless it’s too hard for Seungyeon to keep herself away from Taehyungie” Elkie teased her.

“Oh my gosh I hate you.” Seungyeon groaned.

“Speaking of Taehyungie,” You eyes behind her. “Here comes the man of the hour now.”

“With a shit ton of girls at that.”

Seungyeon snapped her head his way. “Oh my gosh.”

“Don’t look!” Elkie turned her attention. “Act unbothered. You can’t let him know you care. Like Y/n when Jungkook calls!”

“Yeah— Okay whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “But she’s right. He’s with hella girls. He’s not thinking about you right now. You can’t act like you’re waiting for him.”

“Look at you miss love expert.” Elkie teased you. “Let’s get you drinking Seungyeon.”

“Yes! Let’s drink! Finally.” You clapped your hands.

The girls walked off to the bar, plenty of people wanting to take shots with them.

The girls played a few drinking games and partied on tables just like the girls before you.

It would be a lie to say Jungkook’s eyes weren’t locked on you.

It was just him, Taehyung, and Jungkook in their own little section, a few guys coming up to talk to them here and there.

“Oh my gosh I hate you guys.” Jimin groaned. “Taehyung you can’t do this to me too.”

“She’s so bad Jimin. I’m almost as bad as Jeon.” Taehyung stared down Seungyeon.

“I thought you wanted to drown yourself in pussy! You were hyping me and Jungkook up earlier!”

“I’m a big fat liar okay!” Taehyung folded.

Seungyeon and you were both dancing on tables, lost in your own little world with drinks in your hands.

Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a minute. Simply staring.

Damn did you show out.

He watched as many guys threw themselves at you, begging you to come down so they could have a piece.

What could he expect? You were a beautiful woman blessed with a body others would pay millions for. You could actually dance and you had looks that could kill.

You were a heavily desirable woman. Especially at a party like this where everyone knew of you.

He knew you weren’t gonna go home with any of these guys. None of them stood a chance.

He didn’t understand how he had one if he was honest.

The way you two started— having intercourse was wild and random. Just a random string of flirty led to you giving it up for him.

Goddamnit he missed you. It was a petty argument like usual. Him getting blocked just to get unblocked in the morning.

This time bothered him more than the others. Especially seeing you like this.

“Shoutout to these lovely ladies right here!” Jackson suddenly announced, all three girls surrounding him.

“My day ones right here” He said proudly.

Jackson wrapped his arm around your waist, pecking your cheek.

Interesting.

Jungkook hadn’t realized you two had become so close.

Was he the reason Jungkook wasn’t unblocked yet?

“Especially Ms. Y/n here. Shit would not be possible without her.” He spoke, making everyone cheer. “Everyone treat them well tonight alright?”

Elkie and Seungyeon cheered before Jackson walked off, finishing his announcement.

Why would it not be possible without you?

None of it made sense to Jungkook.

He downed a shot, hissing at the aftermath. It made Jimin look over.

“Someone’s mad.”

“Shut up.” Jungkook huffed. “I have no reason to be.”

The girls were laughing together and drinking a bit more.

Seungyeon kept stealing glances at Taehyung.

“Oh my gosh. She’s going insane.” Elkie pointed out Seungyeon’s constant tabs on Taehyung.

“Alright we’re going upstairs.” You motioned both girls to follow you to the next story.

“Jimin we have to follow them.” Taehyung watched as they left to go upstairs.

The man rolled his eyes.

Jungkook looked over, seeing Jackson look over that way too.

“Yeah.” Jungkook opened up his mouth. “Let’s go.”

The boys shortly followed them, heading upstairs.

This level was just as intense as the first floor. The only difference was that these people smoked a bit more than they drank.

“So many bad bitches in here.” Jimin looked around. “Nice move Tae.”

“Man who cares? Where the hell is she?” Taehyung looked over.

“Goddamnit.” Jimin cursed, forced to walk over to your friend group with Taehyung.

Jungkook wasn’t too thrilled either. Especially because he didn’t know how you were going to be like.

“Hey Seungyeon.” Taehyung approached her, making her instantly turn her head.

Poor girl had been waiting for that man to talk to her all night.

“Oh. Hey.” She kept it short, just like you and Elkie told her to.

“Let me get you and your girl friends some more drinks yeah?” He offered, making it harder to fight and say no.

“Please.” She caved in, making everyone follow them to the bar.

“Fucking great.” Jimin mumbled.

 It was awkward as hell. Two odd couples and two random friends all forced to hang out together.

All because of Seungyeon and Taehyung.

Taehyung got all of them drinks like he said, everyone drinking together to ease up a bit.

Taehyung and Seungyeon were lost in their own conversation.

They were so corny it was making everyone extremely nauseous.

“Are you proud of her?” Jimin shook his head, speaking to Elkie. “Your friend single-handedly ruined my friend group.”

“My friend? Your boy here started it all.” She argued.

“Like hell he did. She took advantage of him.” He told her.

She laughed. “Who’s the one who’s supposed to just drop the shit off and go?”

“You can’t blame a man for just tryna get some.” Jimin shrugged. “Not his fault.”

“You’re delusional.” Elkie rolled her eyes.

“I like how you speak to me. You wanna go make out?”

“Sure.” Elkie shrugged, walking off with Jimin.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

You were alone with Jungkook.

“So,” You began to speak. “Which girl in the car was your favorite?”

“Is that seriously how you’re gonna start this?” Jungkook stared you down.

“Hell yeah.” You chuckled. “You’re a fucking prick. You’re childish and you’re just down right stupid. Sending me some photo of some bitches. Made you feel so good being with other girls huh?”

Started off strong already.

“You know what, it did. They didn’t have a fucking loud mouth like you do. Didn’t have to hear a bunch of bullshit every two seconds.”

“See this is exactly why you’re blocked.” You scoffed. “You’re a dick.”

“You block me all the time mama.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Doesn’t mean shit.”

“Probably doesn’t mean anything because you’re too busy with all those other bitches.”

“Me? I’m not the one fucking the party host.” He argued back.

Your eyes widened at the accusation. “Oh wow.”

You weren’t going to deny it.

It wasn’t true. You never slept with Jackson.

But Jungkook thinking that you did was enough to satisfy you.

“We’ll come back to that.” Jungkook poked the inside of his mouth with his tongue.

He was obviously very irritated.

“You’re always so angry.” You groaned.

“Because you just manage to strike that one nerve.” He shook his head.

“You’re so aggressive all the time baby.” You eased him. “Let’s drink some more. Please?”

He shook his head. “Trying to sober up. Someone needs to take you home.”

“I can Uber back.”

“By yourself?” He scoffed. “Fuck no. Your friends are long gone and most likely gonna end up going home with Jimin and Tae. Who can’t drive.”

He wasn’t wrong.

Elkie and Seungyeon were going to town on them. The couples were drunken messes.

You agreed, continuing to drink. You two talked for a bit, somewhat civilly.

The both of you couldn’t help but check each other out.

For you, that alcohol came in through your mouth and went straight to your pussy.

Jungkook’s going straight to his dick. Probably why you two always had sex whenever you hung out.

“Let’s go to Jimin’s car.” Jungkook mumbled lowly to you, making you nod.

Jungkook lets out a low whistle as you walk next to him. He couldn't help but stare at your body.

You were so fucking beautiful, he thought to himself.

The car was a bit far from the entrance. The lot was big so the parking was a bit inconvenient.

However, it was hidden well enough.

He opened the backseat car door for you, waiting for you to get in.

You could sense he was still irritated with you. It was written all over his face and you could sense it in his body language.

His anger and irritation had the opposite effect on you, making your pussy wetter than it already was.

Jungkook started the car, letting out a heavy sigh as he pulled out of the parking lot.

He glanced over at you, his eyes scanning over your body. "You know, you make me so fucking angry sometimes..." He growled, his hand reaching over to grab your thigh.

“It’s not my fault. You started it this time.” You shook your head.

"I didn't start shit," Jungkook retorted, his eyes narrowing at you. "You did. You always fucking do."

He couldn't help but get more and more irritated with you.

The idea of you and Jackson weighed heavy on him.

You were fucking Jungkook for weed. Were you fucking Jackson for drinks and party invites?

“You did last night. That’s exactly why I blocked your ass. Always running your mouth.”

Jungkook's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. He couldn't believe you just said that. "You didn't have to block me. You’re so fucking dramatic."

He snapped at you, his anger getting the best of him. "I fucking hate you sometimes."

“Fine. Just drop me off right here then.” You replied, just as irritated with him now. “I’ll fucking walk home.”

“You're not fucking walking anywhere. I'll take you home." He gritted his teeth.

“Whatever. Just drive me home and you can just get rid of me after. Since that’s what you want so bad.” You folded your arms.

He couldn't believe how much of a stubborn girl you were, but he still couldn't help feeling attracted to you. Even when you were like this. "Why are you so fucking difficult?"

He glared at you for a moment before turning his attention back to the road.

“I’m not even doing anything.” You grabbed your purse once he pulled up to your place.

It was natural for Jungkook to let himself in. He did so again, despite their arguing.

“I thought you would approach me at the party to apologize. But no, you’re just arguing with me because you’re jealous of some guy!” You huffed.

Jungkook scoffed at your words. "Jealous? Fuck no. I just don't like seeing you with other guys, that's it."

“Yeah whatever.” You rolled your eyes, “You’re annoying. Your stupid pride won’t let you just admit it.”

You lifted up the couch cushion, a small bag of pre rolls packed away.

“You know what? Fine. I was jealous when I saw you with Jackson. Are you happy now? I fucking admitted it.

“Gonna fucking smoke with me or what?” She looked at him, ignoring him. “Got your two favorite things right here. Weed and arguing.”

He ignored her, grabbing his own preroll and lighting it up with her lighter.

“That’s all you’re gonna say?” He scoffed.

“Do you want a fucking cookie? Congrats, you actually told me the truth for once.” She took a few hits. “So you were jealous”

“Yeah, I fucking was. I don't like seeing you with other guys Y/n. It makes me want to rip their fucking heads off." He chuckled and shook his head. "Especially him.”

“Isn’t Jackson your homeboy?”

“Exactly. Why the fuck would I want to be fucking on the same girl as my bro? That makes me look like a fucking loser.” He glared at you.

“We were just catching up. We’ve known each other for mad long.” You defended.

Jungkook couldn't help but stare at you as you took a hit from the roll. He felt a surge of jealousy, but he tried to push it down.

"Just fucking catchin' up huh? With his bitch ass?" He chuckled and shook his head. "I know what kinda guy he is.”

“I know you’re not talking. Tell me, Jungkook. How many girls do you sell to that don’t pay cash? Too busy selling with their bodies.” She looked at him.

“Yeah? You’re gonna fucking start this shit again?” He chuckled, anger written all over his face. “I’ve told you the same shit over and over Y/n. I’m not fucking anyone else but you.”

“Car full of sleezy bitches all climbing on you? Yeah okay. Find that fucking hard to believe.

Jungkook understands your skepticism. Especially with the type of guys he hung around.

“Tell me this Jungkook.” You began, “How come it’s an issue when I’m with Jackson but when you’re with all these other girls I’m just supposed to believe you.”

Jungkook leaned in, his expression more serious now. He muttered. “I don’t want to do you like that.”

"I just get fucking pissed when I see other guys trying to fuck what's mine." He cocked his eyebrow.

“You’re annoying.”

Jungkook's gaze never left yours face as you rolled your eyes. He could tell you were irritated with him, but he didn't back down.

"I'm annoying cause I don't like seeing other guys around my girl?" He raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t like all these fucking guys tryna hop on you.” His eyes darkened as he stared down at you.

“I get it.” She sighed.

“Mm I don’t think you do.” He shook his head.

Jungkook turned you around, pushing you against the couch. "Fuck you piss me off. You’re just so fucking sexy" He growled, pinning your hands above your head.

"You're gonna let me fuck you like this?” He looked at you. “Because I’m fucking angry. And I’m not sure I’ll be able to give you that slow and lovey shit right now.”

You simply nodded. You swallowed hard, knowing exactly what was going to happen.

Weed made you horny.

Alcohol made you horny.

And you were definitely cross faded.

“Fucking open your mouth.” He moved his hand, now slapping you across your cheek.

It wasn’t enough to really hurt, but enough to leave a sting.

He seen your facial expression change. “No way. You actually like that shit?”

You two always had rough and angry sex. With the amount of times you two pissed each other off, it was like second nature.

This time was different. Jungkook was livid.

“I do.” You swallowed. “N-No condom tonight please.”

This was the first time ever. You never thought those words would ever leave your lips.

You needed it bad tonight. Real bad.

“Oh wow.” He laughed sarcastically. “You’re that sick? You get onto me every fucking day for asking to hit it raw. Now you want to?”

He almost couldn’t believe it. “Letting me toss you around like a fucking ragdoll. He fucking teach you about that shit?”

“N-No Jungkook.”

He slapped you once again. “Don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I promise. He didn’t.” You pleaded.

Jungkook let out a deep breath, knowing you submitted to him.

He moved his hand to your neck, squeezing enough for you to feel.

“Fucking embarrassing me.” He slid his pants down. “Got all my fucking friends talking about you. That what you wanted?”

“N-No.” You swallowed.

He slipped your skirt up, sliding your panties to the side.

He forcefully pushed himself inside, giving you not a single warning. “You let him fuck you raw did you?”

Staying still for a moment, knowing he would soon start fucking you with all the frustration he had in him.

“N-No I didn’t Jungkook.” You honestly replied.

“Not my fucking name.” He warned.

“You clearly wanted his attention Y/n. You think I ain’t notice that shit today?” His grip on your neck got slightly tighter.

“Changed your hair. Spending money to look good for him. Didn’t look in my fucking direction once. Get some new dick and you forget what you already have? Forgot about daddy’s dick?” He scoffed.

Jungkook's thrusts became more powerful, as he let out all the anger and jealousy he felt towards Jackson.

“T-That’s not what I—“

Jungkook's grip tightened on your hips, as he started thrusting. "Shut the fuck up Y/n." He grumbled, as he started pounding harder.

He smacked your ass, leaving a red mark. "Didn’t think you’d be this fuckin’ tight. Figured he stretched this pussy out.”

“H-He didn’t”

“You really have the fucking guys to speak to me right now?” He slapped her.

“Mmph— sorry daddy”

Jungkook grinned, hearing the slight tremble in your voice.

You couldn’t help but be turned on by how angry he was. How degrading he spoke to you.

Him expressing how jealous he was of Jackson definitely did a number on you.

"This.. is all yours, Y/n. It always has been." He slapped your face. "Don't.. you dare fuckin' look at him again. Don’t you fuckin’

dare question if I’m with other bitches or not.”

“Won’t— promise Daddy” She apologized.

Jungkook's expression changed to an angered confusion, as you apologized. "Sorry? You think.. You fuckin' deserve my mercy?"

He hissed as he stopped thrusting, grabbed you and forced you on all four. "I'll show you fuckin' sorry."

“You're mine to fuck. Mine to spoil. Mine to hug. Mine to love.” He grabbed your hair and pulled it back, as he started thrusting hard again. "And you just fucking gave that away?”

“No I— Daddy no I didn’t.” You whimpered.

Jungkook's thrusts became more violent as his anger continued to fuckin boil. "You.. You fuckin' slut," He growled and smacked your ass hard once again.

“D-Didn’t fuck him.” You confessed, swallowing. “N-Never fucked him.”

Jungkook stopped thrusting, his expression was furious, he looked at you with pure shock.

"You didn't fuck him?" He repeated between gritted teeth, not entirely sure if he should believe you or not. “Are you serious?”

“N-Never fucked him.” She hit her lip.

“So you lied?” His voice was low.

“I just never denied anything you said.” She confessed, a bit ashamed now that she was confessing out loud.

"Wow Y/n." He murmured lowly, making a pause in his thrusts, as he looked at you with confusion and shock. "And you made me do all this.”

“I-“ She felt her stomach drop.

Jungkook scoffed and shook his head in disbelief. He was still holding you by the throat, a little tighter now as his cock started to thrust intensely again. "Yeah, you did.”

Jungkook grunted, his thrusts became louder and more intense, holding you tighter. "You're a fucking slut.."

He whispered in a low voice, his hand starting to squeeze around your throat. He pulled himself out a bit to slap your face.

“Pulled all that just for some dick? Seriously Y/n?” He grunted into your ear.

“So sorry Daddy” She apologized softly, the sensual nickname slipping from her lips.

Upon hearing you call him "Daddy" his thrusts became more intense. Hearing it made him weak everytime.

A low growl sounded out from his throat again as your body was pushed back onto the bed with each thrust deeper into you.

He snickered, his hand reaching down to slap your ass cheek, hard. "You're a fucking whore.." He moans, his thrusts are so hard that he's smacking against your body. He leaned in to bite your neck.

“Finally got the dick you wanted? I can’t fucking believe you pulled that shit.” He grunted, utterly shocked. “Can’t fucking believe you did that.”

His thrusts became even more forceful, each hard smack against your ass echoing around you.

He moans as he bites into your shoulder, teeth grinding into your skin angrily. "Why'd you fucking lie to me?" He growls into your ear.

“Wanted you— Wanted your attention.” She whimpered. “Wanted to see how you felt.”

“Yeah? That’s how you fuckin’ wanted me to confess?” He roars out angrily, his grip tightening almost painfully.

“I-It worked…” She boldly whispered.

His glare is fire as he grabs your throat, pulling you back to look into your eyes.

"You like it when I get tell you how I feel? You fuckin’ like it?” He growls out, squeezing your throat tighter for a moment before letting go.

“I liked it Daddy” She bit her lip.

His jaw almost cracks from the intensity of his teeth grinding as he hears your response.

He begins to fuck you harder, losing his anger and going into a frenzy. "You’re so fucking lucky I love to abuse this pussy.”

“Shit feels so fuckin’ good Daddy— Fuck” She cursed repeatedly.

A low groan rips from his throat, feeling your walls squeezing around him at your curse. He liked when you talked dirty. “So fucking pretty like this.”

“Lying about other dudes is different for you baby..” He huffed. “You love this dick huh baby? Tell me.”

“Yes Daddy— I fuckin’ do.” You nodded quickly.

He leans back down, biting at your bottom lip and nodding.

"That's right, you love this dick, mama. Fucking take it then." He spoke lowly, encouraging you to get more vocal and naughty while he pounds into you.

“Feels so much fucking better raw.” She rolled her eyes back. “Should’ve fucking let you months ago.”

He lets out a growl, feeling how tight your walls are on him with no condom. He nods, agreeing and liking the feeling of you raw.

"That's right mama. You ain’t believe me when I said you were the only one. Should’ve been let me hit it raw.” He chuckled. “Gonna fuck you so good now though."

He's on the brink of losing it, he knows he's about to cum soon.

He looks down at you who’s absolutely fucked dumb on his cock.

He curses, slowing down just a tad. "You fucking loving that we're doing it raw now?”

“Feels so much fucking better now. W-Want you to cum inside too.” You begged, making his eyes widened.

“Are you serious?”

“W-Want it so bad I— Please.”

He groans, loving the idea at your request. “Pretty girl gonna let me cum inside, I couldn’t ask for more.”

He speeds up a little bit, slamming into you roughly and grunting. "That's right, fucking want my cum? Wanna turn mama into more than just a nickname huh?”

He dirty talked her so good.

“Mm yes Daddy yes.” She swallowed.

His eyes grow wide at the idea but he smirks while he continues to thrust into you hard, making a dirty scene in his head.

"That's right, I wanna fill your womb up with my kids, make them from your tight fucking pussy, don't fight it mama. So close” He mumbled in her ear.

“Shit I’m close too.”

He knows he's close too, groaning almost in pain from not cumming yet. He continues to fuck you relentlessly as you near the edge.

"Shit! Cum on my cock mama, you need to cum, you want to cum so bad don't you?"

“Cumming fuck” She immediately let go of the feeling building up in her stomach.

He's right on the edge with you, his cock swells up before he pulls out and shoots his hot load to the side of your stomach, he's not ready for kids, at least not yet.

He slumps backwards and curses. "Fucking shit.”

The two were panting on the couch, struggling to catch their breaths.

She panted. “I’m sorry for lying Jungkook. It was wrong of me to lie to you.”

He smirks and shakes his head but still looks at you with an amused expression.

"No need to apologize momma, we're fucking both dirty. Besides we both liked it didn't we?" He winks and wraps an arm around you.

“You’re really not mad?”

“I mean it irritated me a lot when I thought you fucked him.” He sighed. “I’m just relieved now.”

“When I told you I haven’t been with anyone else I meant it.” You told him. “That’s not

something I would lie about. Especially after I pressed you for so long.”

“I know. When I seen him touch you like that I just— I thought I lost you.” He looked at you. “I just kinda thought you were using me.”

“It’s not about weed for me anymore Jungkook.” You swallowed. “It hasn’t been for a while.”

“It was never about the weed for me.” He confessed. “I just wanted to see you since the beginning.”

“You thought that was a secret?” You couldn’t help but snort.

“Okay I’m never being vulnerable with you again.” He shook his head.

2K notes · View notes

s-4pphics · 28 days ago

Text

the call. I (sevika + vi)

SYNOPSIS: reddit: a place for thought-dumping and being horny [college au] WORD COUNT: 9.5K WARNINGS: this was supposed to be dark but its very crack-ish, sevika and vi play rugby(kinda minor plot tbh), oc is a crazy redditor and wears skirts, STALKING, 90% SMUT MDNI(fingering + phone sex + munching + mult orgasms + dirty talk, tensionnnn) brief mentions of grief and loss bc me, recreational drug use, JUST TOXIC, abby makes an appearance later A/N: WROTE THIS WITH MY BABY!!! @trackinglessons art by lottie my love my light my everything this is a product of #OVULATIONWEEK and the #ARCANETAKEOVER

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 3y

no one likes me.

i [f18] don’t have any friends. at all. i don’t have anyone that’s not family that likes me and sometimes im convinced my family regrets keeping me adound. i just moved cities for uni and haven’t been able to have a valuable conversation with anyone and im starting to think i’m the reason why. to be honest i’ve always been the “weird” one or whatever ppl at school called me. but i don’t think im weird at all. I think i’m nice but ppl treat me like a germ lol they just stare and whisper to each other but i know they’re talking about me

does anyone have any advice on being more approachable? or whatever i’m not even sure what to call it tbh.

kewlio313 • 3y

Everybody’s weird in college! You’re young and finding yourself. Join some organizations and put yourself out there! It’ll work out kid

artkiller OP • 3y

i wish there was a chess club lol

Margie • 3y

how do you go about approaching people?

artkiller OP • 3y

i just walk up and start talking about myself

Margie • 3y

Okay… and what’s their reaction?

artkiller OP • 3y

it’s different every time. sometimes they just leave, sometimes they laugh then leave, other times they’re outwardly mean. one guy told me to ‘shut the hell up bitch’ and i immediately wanted to commit a federal crime(not murder)

Margie • 3y

Goddamn lol. Maybe u r weird

miKrophone • 3y

shut up hoe

artkiller OP • 2y

?? :/

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

Advice Needed

how do you know if you’re mentally ill?

hello fellow redditors. lol. i’m finally back… very odd first term i think i got ghosted or whatever it’s called by some dude on the hockey team but yeah i plotted homicide. i’m pretty sure that situation sent me into a spiral. i think im sick.

i’m not sure what’s going on with me but my thoughts have been really dark recently. not necessarily suicidal or harm inflicting(on myself) but… yeah… prettyyyy dark. idk. it’s weird what my brain conjures up sometimes. i guess im curious why my brain thinks the way it does. i’m not a bad person and i know that, but my brain makes me believe that i am. idk what to do at this point. i’ve never been to a professional and tbh i don’t think i should because i don’t wanna be admitted somewhere lol

kewlio313 • 2y

Welcome back kid. It’s often better to seek help even though it can be fucking horrifying, especially in adulthood. Get help and you’ll be fine

artkiller OP • 2y

and if i’m not fine? what do i do then?

kewlio313 • 2y

To be frank, I'm not sure. I’ve been through alot and even I don’t have clear direction on life. I’ve been allowing my intuition to guide me for some time. Just try it and see what happens. Rooting for you

artkiller OP • 2y

thank you

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

Advice Needed

am i a lesbian?

i [f19] think im attracted to females. i can’t stop staring at their tits. i always assumed my middle school peeping was from jealousy or whatever the hell twitter said but now that i’m grown i think i wanna fuck girls. or like. girl adjacents??? idk the terminology or whatever.

PetersJoker • 2y

go eat some pussy and find out

artkiller OP • 2y

no fuckhead

kewlio313 • 2y

… Girl adjacents? Females? Are you actually 40?

artkiller OP • 2y

is this a dig

kewlio313 • 2y

You crack me up. Have you experimented before?

artkiller OP • 2y

i never passed a science class

kewlio313 • 2y

… Alright.

I meant hooking up. Have u kissed a girl before? Slept with one? Or whatever you youngins say these days?

artkiller OP • 2y

no. i’m not a slut lol i hardly go outside

kewlio313 • 2y

Finding out what you like isn’t being a slut. You’re in college for fucks sake. Find you someone to lay with, ya loser.

artkiller OP • 2y

or i should just shoot myself. less complicated then sex

kewlio313 • 2y

Maybe so, but they’re equally as messy.

ButchesForChrist • 2y

Questioning is usually the first sign. Lol

artkiller OP • 2y

fuck me

ButchesForChrist • 2y

Well

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

what does sex feel like? (wlw)

[f19] just watched scissor porn for the first time. what the fuck was that. (i need it)

MisandristInTraining • 2y

the work of demons aka men

artkiller OP • 2y

i drink their blood

MisandristInTraining • 2y

Lmao

OnHorseback • 2y

Feels like dying but emotionally • 2y

artkiller OP • 2y

i wanna die physically

OnHorseback • 2y

I’m sure some dirty fuck can set that up for you

artkiller OP • 2y

lit

kewlio313 • 2y

Welcome to the dark side.

artkiller OP • 2y

flirt a little harder oldhead

ButchesForChrist • 2y

Ready to come out?

artkiller OP • 2y

of where

ButchesForChrist • 2y

Bitch…..

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

home sweet home.

hello found family. been mia bc fuck school but i’m back… and i think im a sadist.

does anyone know where rugby originated from? i like watching large women be physical w each other and i wish they would harm me in similar ways. pls push me to the floor and stomp me out(specifically directed to one pink head) i’ve been thinking dirty things all day i need her so fucking bad. is this why ppl r so obsessed with sex? bc of hot people? i get it now. i need her to bend me over and put her cleat on my neck

lezziesthatembezzle • 2y

good morning to u too bitch

artkiller OP • 2y

big muscly girls pls rail me from da bck

lezziesthatembezzle • 2y

someone muzzle this thot

Accuntress • 2y

A dyke’s pride and joy: large women.

kewlio313 • 2y

This is crazily your most normal post. Missed ya. Do well in school

artkiller OP • 2y

:3 🩷

[deleted] • 2y

The cards are in my favor

artkiller OP • 2y

would you like to sex through private message?

[deleted] • 2y

What the fuck you crackhead

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 2y

Advice Needed

sex addiction while a virgin?

is this possible? i shouldn’t have watched ppl with big clits trib. quite criminal. even more criminal when i’ve imagined the girl i’ve been following around for the past 2 weeks doing it to me

[deleted] • 2y

is this who we are….

artkiller OP • 2y

obviously.

kewlio313 • 2y

This is my last straw.

artkiller OP • 2y

hugs xD

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 6mo

i’m confessing.

idc anymore. i don’t give a FUCK. i am in love. i [f21] am in love. the deepest kind i think. love at first sight truly. it’s the kind of love that’s painful. it kills and leaves behind trails of misery if betrayed or lost. whenever i see her, i cry from happiness. her joy is my joy. her hurt is my hurt. our hearts are forever intertwined no matter the distance. i’m writing this for her. if you ever see this: i love you, darling. there’s not a second that goes by where you’re not at the forefront of my mind. i’ll treasure everything we’ve built thus far, and promise to never take it for granted. i hope to die by your side.

i love you. i love you so much.

even if we’ve never spoken.

kewlio313 • 6mo

Yup… she’s lost it, folks. Very deep sigh.

ButchesForChrist • 5mo

That’s part of being a lesbian. She’ll live. Trust me

—

“Violet! … VIOLET!”

Why’s Sev always so loud in the goddamn library? The receptionist already has tacks on her behavior chart like some kindergartener. “I heard you! Jesus Christ, I’m sitting right fucking next to you—“

“I wouldn’t haveta fucking scream if you woulda answered me when I asked 3 days ago! Are you coming on Saturday?”

How does she tell Sev fuck no bitch I don’t wanna go in a polite manner? It’s the first weekend after Christmas break and quite frankly, she's already sick of being on campus. Vi loves her friend to death but holy fuck does she wish she had an off button.

“Just come the hell on and stop—“

“Dude, I—“

“You know it’s not gonna be fun if you’re not there! Half the bitches are comin’ for you! Plus… I think you could use a fun time after… y’know.” Sevika softens — only a bit, she's still Sevika. Hard ass.

She does know. At this point, who doesn’t? Her last year of university started on a bad foot when her family home caught aflame with her little sister and father still inside, but the icing on the cake was when her long term, blue-haired girlfriend sent her the can we talk? important text. Now she’s single with corpses for relatives(she thinks her sister would’ve found that funny). Her teammates returned to campus with her; eyes mournful and hearts sunk to the bottom of their stomachs, so prepared to shield and coddle when needed. Sev was one of them: through every breakdown and anxiety attack and hungry but nauseating night.

“I’m not tryna bring up old shit. You been through a lot and deserve some fun. That’s all I’m sayin’. Get your last bit of jitters out before the season starts.”

Vi nods. She gets it. Losing her sister was just as much of a loss for Sev as it was for her, but somehow, she was able to ease back into herself. Become… normal again. Socializing takes so much energy outta Violet, now. She’d rather go lift or go sock the shit outta rich person. In some ways, she wishes she had as much willpower as her friend.

She knows why Sev wants her to go. New pussy, new me, her and Abby once told her, but she’s not in the mood to smash right now. She’ll probably start crying if they don’t kiss both her cheeks before her nose like… Ugh. She shivers in disgust… and extreme longing. She misses her ex like crazy.

“I know. I’ll, uh, think about it.”

“M’kay… now what the fuck is epitactic theory.”

“Girl…”

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 12mi

Advice Needed

how crazy is it to ask for a threesome from two ppl that don’t know you?

[f21] i’m currently in my campus library watching my girlfriend study with her teammate from my stiff ass beanbag and i need them both like crack. how do i bring intercourse up without making it awkward or uncomfortable? help asap pls

also i might c her this weeknd she’s going out and i wanna go

CreamTeam • 5mi

Wait … so is she your girlfriend or not?? 😭😭

artkiller OP • 2mi

we have a complicated relationship🩷

ButchesForChrist • 1mi

Aka she’s stalking her. Scroll down a little

artkiller OP • 30s

stay out my business

CreamTeam • 1s

What the fuck

kewlio313 • 2mi

I thought we were better than this, honey.

artkiller OP • 30s

you prob are. im not

kewlio313 • 4s

Deep sigh.

Your phone drops from your jittery hands and into your lap, screen glowing with every disappointed reply from fucking Kewlio who you’ve grown to love. You like to call them a friend. A faceless, emotionally intelligent, oddly attractive friend who you’ve never met.

The love of your life is right there, as always. Exactly 34 steps away, past the shelves littered with history novels and biographies, sat at the table surrounded by Liberal Arts textbooks and her star-littered laptop. Black jacket, black shirt, ripped black jeans, hair dyed black: that’s new. Still streaked with pink and somehow you’re even more hungry for her. She’s looked a mess recently: beaten and bruised, coming to class with black eyes and bandages across her pretty nose. It makes you wanna burn down the entire Arts and Sciences building with everyone inside of it.

She’s annoyed with Sevika, you can tell. They’re talking about something. Maybe her sister, rest in peace. Or piss if she sucked. Whatever. A small part wishes you listened a little closer when she talked about Jinx(weird ass nickname, but okay) so you’d know exactly what to ask. She can take out any aggression or sadness on you anytime. In here, outside. You’d drop ‘em for her wherever.

Kewlio is a dirty liar. You’re not a stalker. You’re a fan, an admirer, a lover. Your girl’s simply unassuming… How the fuck is that your fault?

She won’t be like that for long, though.

Vi lost her cleats a few days ago. Her black and blue ones that are worn the hell down and hanging at the seams, but she loves them. Wears them almost every match despite how unsteady they make her on the field. They’re her lucky charm, besides you, of course.

Her lucky charm found her lucky charms.

And by found, you mean broke into her gym locker with the code you memorized 2 years ago and snagged ‘em. She should really get those locks changed before someone takes something important.

The explanation of how you found her cleats exactly? You’re not sure and you’re not dwelling. She’ll be so relieved that you found them that it won’t even matter. Might even drop to her knees and praise you like a God. Is she religious? One of the minor details you don’t know about her.

But you’ll find out soon enough. No worries at all.

You wonder how Caitlyn is doing.

—

Rabbit holes are either your best friend or worst enemy. Today, they’re straddling the fence. Your brain never shuts off when you're in a crisis. You’re ovulating, overstimulated, and searching for a cure from someone you’ve never said hello to.

The internet can solve your problems though. Especially if they’re sex-deprived millennials. Their long-term lack of human contact makes for some hilarious stories and useful what-not-to-dos.

how to finger a vagina

vagina g spot where is it

where is clit vagina

vagina map

scissoring hacks positions

lesbian sex how to

can lesbians do anal

is mommy kink a trauma response

Reddit searches are always on your side. All answers to the world at the tip of your fingers. You love the media! Squirting is not pee evidently. PornHub comments are not a reliable source. You should ask your girlfriend if she squirts.

Caitlyn would know. Fucking BITCH!

how to make girlfriend come

Mansplainer misogynists geeking about making their wives do housework while they sit on their asses and flirt with young Discordians. ‘I clap and she appears’

…

You should craft a bomb that only targets cis-het men because what the fuck is going on right now.

how to make girlfriend cum

‘[M48] I’ve never made my wife climax and we’ve been together for 15 years and have 2 children’

Your eyes are fucking burning. Is it bad to wish death on a person? Cursed imagery. Your fingers attempt to salvage the last bits of your sanity.

how to make girlfriend orgasm wlw

date ideas lesbian

am i crazy quiz

insanity quiz

You’re normal you’re okay you’re literally fine.

mental illness signs for lesbians

what does dying feel lik

“Ma’am.”

You gasp sharply. Librarian. Fuck oh shit

“Hi. We’re, uh, lockin’ up, so…”

You’re still at the library. How much time has passed? How many rabbit holes have you fallen into? Where’s your girlfriend? Her and Sev are gone…

But you know where to find your g-spot! Hooplah!

“Oh ye— Yeah! Uhh… bye.” You stand so fast you get whiplash. Your backpack beats against your back when you adjust the straps on your shoulders. Headphones on, music blasting, and just like that, the world is off and you’re on. Right into the darkness of the city.

You love a stripper’s playlist in times like these.

You love Reddit in times like these.

You walk and walk with an extra skip in your step. Time to drive Kewlio crazy.

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 1s

guys im happy

the joy that i feel rn is unmatched. i love my life. im so excited for the future. thank you god and or universe for these blessings

And post. Nothing could wipe the smile off your face. Nothing nothing nothing you love it here! You love school. You love your girlfriend and her friends and her sport!

“Oof—“

“AH—“

Your back connects with the angles of your hardcovers and fuck you hope your laptop survived that drop. There’s not nearly enough cushion in your bag to cover that fall fuck your life you hate everyone—

“YOU FU—“

“Holy fuckin’ shit I’m so sorry are you ok—“

And your mouth zips. Oh…

Oh.

Your girl’s in running shorts. Squeezing her thighs good ‘n tight and she glistens with sweat, brows pulled down in concern as she eyes you from above. If the sun was still out, the rays would dress her head like a halo. A heavenly sight. You’d die here… but not before a drop of her sweat falls on your face. You need that at least once. Zooweeema—

“Are you oka— fuck, gimme your hands, up ya go, c’mon—“

Oh she’s talking. And grabbing you.

Your hands are warmed by skin and your spine tickles when you’re pulled to your feet like a feather. The pain in your back and shoulders don’t fucking matter anymore. Life works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?

“Hi, Vi.”

“I’m— hey, uh… do we know each other?”

We love each other actually!

“No— I uh, sorry! I go to watch your matches and all that. Kinda a fan… Sorry if that’s weird—“

“No no no no, not weird at all. Uh, very flattering actually. ‘Preciate it.”

You’re gonna fucking pass out.

“Are you okay though? Nothing hurts, right?” And your knees wobble when a squeezing hand lands on your shoulder, gauging you for pain. No pain. Just deprived. Needy. Desperate. Touch me some more.

“M good.”

“Cool…” Her hand drops and you nearly screech like a banshee, “And your name? Sorry bout t—“

You interrupt with yours and she smiles. Nice to meet you, she says with gravel and your heart grows another heart inside of another heart. Holy fucking you’re boutta

“I like rugby.”

Kill yourself. You’re boutta kill yourself.

Vi’s eyes widened before nodding in agreement, “Yeah… me too. If it wasn’t obvious enough. It’s a great… stress reliever.”

So is sex, according to Sexcopedia.edu. Do me.

“Really? It looks painful sometimes.”

She sighs with tension, “It is. We gotta lot of aggressive people playing against us so we have to always… do more. I guess, I dunno. But whenever I’m mad it’s great. Very useful.”

“Are you mad often?”

“Are you studying psychology?” She pins with an arched, slit brow, but her eyes remain light and friendly. It’s funny, she doesn’t appear to be this approachable with her grunge-ness.

“Nah. I need to, though. Could do me some good.”

Her laugh is hearty. Genuine. “Shit, me too. Help me out.”

“Do you wanna be my friend?”

She seems stunned and you don’t know why. Doesn’t banter create friendship? Whatever. Fuck it. She can say no. You don’t care. You still got her shoe—

“Gimme your phone—”

Your heart drops to the floor, through the concrete, right into the center of the Earth’s crust waiting to burn and cease to exist. She’s got you figured out. You’ve been exposed and she’s gonna fry you in the middle of the damn street

“—I’ll put my number in.”

… Oh.

You meticulously make sure your notis are deleted and OFF before handing her your device with the keypad on display. Her fingers are pretty and nimble. Flexible with how slender they are. Pretty hands. Pretty, blue veins and you're instantly reminded of her ex. You hate the color blue.

She hands your phone back, “That’s me. Hit me up when you get… wherever you’re going. And lemme know if I need to cover your medical expenses for spinal cord surgery.”

You laugh. Really fucking loudly and she flinches, but smiles after. She’s so fucking cute! Is this flirting?

“Y-Yeah, I will.”

Her head tilts fondly, “Cool.”

“Cool.”

She gives you one last look before plugging her earbud in to continue her jog. You check her contact to make sure it’s real and fuck you have her fucking number! Fuck fuck fuck fuck

You leap like the happiest frog in the pond when she’s out of your line of view and a sharp pain whips through your shoulder blades.

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 3mi

lads i just got proposed to. spring wedding in sweden

number collected. so it begins.

kewlio313 • 48s

Christ help us all.

CreamTeam • 10s

Ring pics.

artkiller OP • 3s

cawk ring pics***

CreamTeam • 1s

Should’ve fuckin known. I hate you genuinely

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 30s

when’s a good time to text the girl you’re obsessed with?

[f21] soooo i’m laying in bed lookignat her contact and idk what to do. i’ve fantasized about this so many times and now its in my lap… im so used to shit going wrong that idk how to react to it going right. it’s kinda late but i really wanna talk to her but idk she might be sleep or whatever.

should i scale her building and check if she’s awake? :(

—

Vi doesn’t know why there’s a pit in her stomach. She sits on her teammate’s fluffy rug with a smoked out Sevika who patiently waits for her green light, but it hasn’t come. She feels an oncoming breakdown and she needs a babysitter just in case.

“Finish this for me?” A roach floats in front of Vi’s face before she pushes it away.

“No.”

“Buzzkill.”

Sev and Vi sit in silence for 12 seconds before the roach is stolen and hit by the latter. Sevika snickers. Vi drops her head on the couch and exhales her worries through clouds. Stressed, anxious riddled, maybe not the best headspace to get high but fuck it.

“Whatcha thinking about?”

She shrugs, “Everything.”

“Talk ta me. What’s happening.”

Vi’s face burns when her mind plagues with you. Your giant bifocals and smudged mascara and acrylic-stained hoodies. You had a backpack on… Could be a student here. You might be a freshman. Vi hates making assumptions about strangers but you seemed a little…

Immature? Your eyes were too shiny to be a senior.

“You’re gonna laugh…”

“I’ll always laugh at your stupid ass,” She snickers. “What happened, though, seriously.”

Wafts of smoke curl around her words, “I almost bulldozed a girl earlier.”

Sevika scrabbles to her knees with a slack jaw, “WHAT THE—“

“Oh my fucking god can you be normal for—“

“BITCH BULLDOZED? WHAT THE FUCK FREAKY ASS BITCH—“

“NOT LIKE THAT!” Vi scoffs, “I went on a run and bumped into her! Fucking WEIRDO!”

Sevika slumps back on her ass, clearly disappointed, “… Oh.”

Vi tends to the roach until her fingertips burn, stubbing out the burnt paper on Sevika’s ashtray. When she looks up, she finds a very intrigued looking fox. Here she fucking goes.

“She hot?”

Vi’s sigh is littered with agitation at her friend while she laughs, “I hadta fucking ask! Tell me! She smell good?”

“I don’t fuckin’ remember! We talked for like… 2 minutes!”

“2 is enough time to check her out. Show’a hands, how fat were her tits? Like this?” Sevika mimes holding watermelons that are too goddamn heavy and Vi cringes.

“You fucking disgust me.”

Sevika relaxes back onto her elbows, legs extended in front of her. Her brow quirks when she catches Vi’s gaze drop to her waist, “Meh. You like that about me.”

“Sometimes. Not when I’m in a crisis.”

“Meeting a girl is a crisis now?”

“Yes! I don’t fucking know, she was…”

Honestly, Vi’s unsure how to describe you.

“Does she at least go here! You’re not giving me shit to work with.”

“I DON’T KNOW—“

“DON’T FUCKING YELL AT ME—“

Vi groans with her palms in her eyes, “She just asked to be friends. She told me she watches us play and that she’s—“

“Back the fuck up,” Sevika raises up again, “Do you not see what’s happening here!”

“…”

“You’re actually fucking stupid, wow,” She scoffs, “You know she set all that up, right?”

“… What in the fuck are you talking abou—“

“She ran into you on purpose! She’s a fan bitch!” Sev reaches for her phone on the coffee table, “What’s her Instagram?”

Vi whines, “I don’t know—“

Before Sevika can cuss her out for the 40th time, she bursts, “I GAVE HER MY NUMBER!”

“… Did you get hers?”

“…”

“BROTHER—“

“Shut up! I’m not… I don’t flirt! I don’t know how, not anymore! She caught me off guard honestly.”

“What's her name?”

Vi sheepishly mumbles your title; it’s slimy the way it curls on her tongue. You were so nice and now she’s setting you up to be pestered by her best friend.

It’s silent for 3 minutes, only the pittering of Sevika’s fingers on her device while she hunts for you. Another 4 pass before she tosses her phone in annoyance.

“You sure you weren’t hallucinating? Nothing’s poppin’ up.”

“You’re so annoy—“

WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACK, WHO THAT IN THE BAAAAAAACK

Vi’s phone screen glows gray with an unsaved number across the top… One with their area code… Sevika watches the number scroll like a hawk. The smile that grows on her face is crooked. And knowing.

It’s 11PM. It’s not you. It couldn’t be you.

“That’s your ringtone?” Sevika snorts.

“Shut up.” Why’s she so anxious all of a sudden? Her sweaty palms aren’t enough to stop her from reaching for the device, though.

She answers and puts you on speaker.

“Hello?”

“…Hi. It’s me.”

Sevika’s brow lifts in questioning. Is that her? She mouths and Vi nods. Her eyes roll when her friend whispers, cute voice.

She’ll never say, but Sevika’s presence re-energizes her. Makes her a little more playful, so she teases, “Me who?”

A beat of silence passes before you start mumbling to yourself, “I’m gonna fuckin’ throw up is this the wrong per—“

Sevika’s hand flies over her mouth to smother her laughter while Vi coddles you; laughs that she’s joking and that she was waiting on your call. Her cheeks burn when her teammate throws her an accusatory look.

“Do you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“That you’ve been waiting on me?”

Before Vi can answer, Sev raises up onto her knees and mimes fucking somebody from the back, face slack with faux and exaggerated pleasure. She ignores the sinful jolt in her tummy and flings a throw pillow right at her face.

“Yeah, ‘course I was…”

And then it’s silent again. Her muscles freeze with every deep breath you take over the phone. Sevika waits expectantly, talk to her, she says with flapping fingers.

“Whatcha up to?”

“… Uhh… nothing?”

Your laugh is featherlight, “Are you asking me?”

“Maybe?”

Sevika’s had enough of the tomfoolery. She wiggles over and hits the mute button with a heavy slam. Leans in close while she whispers,

“Dude, she’s tryna fuck—“

“No, she isn’t—“

“Yes she is, dodo, did you hear how she was talkin’?” Her tone heightens in pitch, mocks seduction, “You were waiting on me, baby?—“

“H-Hello?” Your mumble is drenched with insecurity. Sevika doesn’t give a fuck.

“See?” She nearly screams, “She’s DJin’ right now—“

Violet shoves her back before unmuting, “Sorry, m’here…”

“… Was it a bad time to call?” You’re quieter now. Ashamed sounding. Embarrassed.

“Not at all! Sorry, I was smoking earlier, makes me lose my train of thought.”

“It’s okay…”

“You make it home safe?”

“Mhm. I was about to fall asleep but then I remembered to call, so…”

Vi catches her smile before her friend can bully her for it, “So, you called…”

“Yes,” said excitedly. She can hear your smile. Very puppy-like. Cute. Vi jolts when Sev starts snoring obnoxiously fucking loud. She flicks her forehead.

“Is someone there with you?”

Both their eyes widen. A sharp hand raises to slap Sevika, but she flinches before it lands, “Sorry. Just my stupid ass roommate.”

“Hi, Sevika.”

You’re oddly calm…. But why wouldn’t you be? You had no other intent for this phone call other than keeping your promise. They still share a look though; a brief flash of intrigue and skepticism. How’d you know…

It’s not pondered on for long by Sevika before she sings, “Hey, sweetheart.”

You sound like the wind has knocked outta you. “H-Hi.”

Sev singles for Vi to pass the phone over to her. She obliges with a hard stare, “I was just passing through, but while I’m here, I gotta couple… questions. That good with you?”

“Yes.”

“Good. You single?”

“Mhm. For forever, sadly.”

“Great. Are we at the same school?”

“Duh. I’m at every match. We’re, uh… graduating together if everything goes as planned.”

So definitely not a freshman. Just when Vi thought it was impossible to finish college without a chip on your shoulder. You seem to have made it through just fine.

Despite Sevika’s reputation of being cold-hearted and abrasive with wicked flirtation skills, she speaks to you like you’ve been in her life for years. Gentle. Inquiring. She lays flat on her stomach with her feet kicked up behind her, “What’s your major?”

“Architectural engineering. What’s yours?”

“You’re so smart. ‘M doing mathematics. You should tutor me when you getta chance.”

“Sure. Just lemme know when. I’m always in the library, so.”

“Well, what a fucking coincidence, so are we! You coulda dropped by and said hello if that was the case.”

“I’m trying to do that now… Am I doin’ okay?”

“Just fine actually. Aren’t you sweet.”

“I taste sweeter.”

Sevika drops the phone on the plush rug beneath them. Sits upright with urgency. Gawks at Vi whose jaw is nearly in her lap. There’s hardly any air in her chest. She squabbles for her phone and ensures that the volume is all the way up. Holds the device right in between them.

“… Swear? I don’t think that’s possible.” Sevika hums at you, holding her roommate’s gaze while her tongue traces over the dryness on her lip.

“You could find out… Both of you can if you wanna.”

“‘S that easy?” Sevika rasps, and Vi flinches when her breath hits her mouth. Leans in a bit closer to feel more on her face.

“Why do you sound like that?” Vi huffs at your genuine curiosity. You’re so fucking cute, fuck.

“Because you’re turning me on, hon,” Her gaze washes over Vi and her skin burns with trails. “Both of us.”

“Oh… cool.” You exhale unsteadily. They can’t help but laugh at you. “Cool?” Vi repeats.

“Yeah. Awesome. I’ve never done that to someone before.”

“You a virgin?”

“Yup.”

“FaceTime us.”

“I have a Samsung.”

Both girls explode into laughter, “We’ll call you, then, Jesus—“ Vi sends an eager finger towards the small camera before you mumble,

“Who says I’ll answer?”

Sevika tuts, “You don’t wanna watch us kiss?”

“I’d rather watch in person.”

Sevika throws Vi a look and she’s instantly reminded of Abby. Usually, that glance — filled with an equal amount of tenderness of filth — is shared between her teammates and she’s forced to endure whatever nonsense they plan to take out on somebody together, but now she’s here. Sevika’s including her in such a sacred ritual. She’s suddenly skittish, “You’re killing me, baby. Whatcha doing this weekend?” Sev quiets, timbre amorous.

“Playing Overwatch.”

“Fuck that shit. Come to Kappa on Saturday. Everybody’s goin’.” Sevika snips down at Violet, and she whines while her fingers dig into her roomie’s tank top. A little closer, and they’re kissing. Just an inch—

“What’s Kappa?”

Vi giggles, “House,” Sevika mumbles against Vi’s mouth, “Frat house. Right off 16th. It's bright blue, can’t miss it.”

“‘K, I’ll go. See ya there.”

“Wh—“

Three dial tones break through the smoke in the air before the screen goes dark, both girls left stunned and… very tempted to track your location. Maybe pop a titty for your RA in exchange for your room number. Wouldn’t be the first time…

… Is that too much?

It could be, but you didn’t hesitate to drop bomb after proposition, and the selfish part of her heart can’t help but think you wouldn’t mind two ravenous strangers at your front door. The knowledge that they’d give you everything you needed would be enough for you to allow them entry.

And the way Sevika’s staring at her… Craving, but careful. She’s so patient.

It’s been such a long time — two years since they’ve had any physical connection. Drunken nights, quickies in the locker room showers— the distractions from grief were all put on the back shelf when Vi got into her relationship. Sevika’s a sleaze, not a homewrecker — most times, so she kept her hands to herself out of respect, no matter how many times Violet would catch her staring where she knew was off limits.

Vi can't get to you, but she can get to Sevika.

So she yanks her close, dissolves the space between them as their mouths collide with heat and a newfound ache for you in the middle. Sevika’s just as rough as she remembers — pushes her down so her back molds to the floor, entangles a cinched hand in her hair to pull and expose her neck to the attacks. She’s got blotches and teeth marks on her throat — the unrestrained and possessive and her stomach flips. She gasps at the ceiling when her nightshirt shreds under a forceful hand.

She hasn’t had the heart to have sex in months — propositions were turned down on dozens of occasions because her mind couldn’t focus on enjoying. Every second of euphoria gets overshadowed by hollow, unforgiving guilt.

You sparked something in her with your forwardness, that curiosity that left her aching to read your mind. Her best friend, too, evidently.

Every movement is fast. She crawls down her torso with intent — fangs sharp where they leave blood down her sternum. Vi’s fingers pry Sevika’s shirt off, her tongue separating from her waist for mere seconds before reattaching. An eager hand fondly moves her friend’s hair out of her face.

You want it? Sevika’s eyes read.

Yes, I want it, please. Vi says aloud. Eager with a twisting hand in her scalp.

Sevika sends waves through Vi with every wrestle her tongue devotes to her clit. She can’t think of anything but Sevika and you and both of you at the same time; on top of her — you sat on her face while Sevika’s fingers drove inside her. She wants her tongue inside you; unrelenting and feverish until you scream and soak her tongue in your sweetness.

Sevika eats like she’s hungry. She eats like she misses having her like this and that wounds Vi up tight; it sends shockwaves down her legs. Makes her twitch, but Sevika forces her still with a tight grip on her waist.

Vi curses with fluttery eyes when a finger — then two, circles around the entrance that aches for a stretching.

They’re heaven sent when they push in. She’s getting fucked like she’s hated and she loves it. She deserves to feel like nothing; her walls are selfish where they encase the digits that bring her to the sun, massage against every sensitive ridge just how she needs. Her mouth spills with whatever energy she has left within her; slurred and drooled fuck yes yeses. She can barely conjure a warning when her core locks tight, right before she explodes.

There’s wetness everywhere while she pulses through her pleasure, thighs squeezing around Sevika’s head with every satisfied moan that vibrates on her clit. Tells Violet to give her more and to take it take it take whatever she gives her like she knows she can.

It’s not until Violet starts sobbing and Sevika’s mouth is dripping wet that she pulls out and separates from her completely. She kisses her pussy gently before shifting to help unlock Violet’s knees. She shivers with every peck that’s trailed up her torso to her chest to her neck.

Sevika laughs when Vi does, choked and clogged, but elated and genuine. It’s been so long since her body’s felt this light.

“You needed that. Ya look better already,” Sevika cackles. “Can you stand?”

“Fuck off, gimme a sec.” Vi shoves playfully at her chest.

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 3s

guys.

i love being a liar. it makes me feel alive never let a bitch tell you lying is wrong it literally makes life so much easier!! wishing everyone a good night.

everything’s going as planned. just one more tally on the board and we’re set

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 20mi

Advice Needed

it’s been 24 hours and my girl who’s not my girl has been texting me nonstop.

[f21] hello. im in a crisis but a good one? if that’s possible. long story short im in love but not dating the girl im in love with yet. i took some of y’all’s flirting advice and i think it worked. im betting my life that yall do witchcraft. i barely said anything to her and now she won’t me😝😝😝 and tbh… i think her friend won’t me too!!!!! she’s always asking about my day and asking if i ate and if id wanna eat with her but i always decline bc im not ready physically mentally like i’m gonna combust the second she walks up to me i barely survived our first interaction…… but her friend invited me to a party tomorrow night…….. wtf do i wear to that i’ve never been outside before LOL

might get a train ran on me…… WE’LL SEE FRIENDS

adding her undies to the shrine🩷 yaaaay

CreamTeam • 14mi

bro is she your girlfriend or not? It’s been years at this point.

artkiller OP • 12mi

yes i mean no or yes :)

kewlio313 • 7mi

Wear something that you wouldn’t wear to your parents funeral. Good luck dear

artkiller OP • 5mi

i would whore out if my family died

kewlio313 • 2mi

Good God.

—

What does genuine happiness feel like?

You’re unsure how long you’ve been on your beanbag, but Violet and Sevika have been laughing since you sat down. They’re so relaxed around each other, content with silence. Accepting of failure.

You’re not a jealous person at all. Far from, actually, but something furies from within whenever you see them — or people, in general, gleeful; the desperation to feel. You haven’t had the privilege. Maybe that’s why you cling to whatever you have with Vi. She has birthed a wanting inside you. A desire for connection after spending decades comforted by the sound of your own voice. Or comments under your posts.

Violet makes you happy. And Sevika might, too. Just as long as she doesn’t get too close to your light.

You’re standing right behind Sevika. She can’t see you, but Vi can. Her fear is swiftly overshadowed by delight. She greets you with a smile that makes your heart throb.

Sevika’s gaze wanders down to your legs, that remain exposed despite the weather,

“You’re not cold?” She asks. Not exactly the introduction you were expecting, but that makes you giddy. Vi must tell her about you!

“Yes,” You say with ease, “Y'all should come to my room. It’s warmer there.”

Vi nods after gawking, 2 books immediately tucked to her chest with her bag on her back. Sevika just laughs. She gets it. You like that.

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 1s

Advice Needed

how do i mentally prepare for sex? (virginity)

literally fucking freezing walking to my room rn with two burly butches that i want to throw me around and i think they’re going to bc they’re not talking to me but the y are very close i don’t want them to see my screen guys im about to have a threesome pls fucking help me

—

“Cute room.” Violet says, inspecting your horror movie posters and stuffed animals.

“Thank you.” You smile.

I hid the 14 polaroids of you that I had taped to my door. Hope that makes you more comfortable!

“It’s just you in here?” Sevika chimes, eyes glued to the small bed up against the wall, right next to your PC setup. You should ask if they game afterwards.

“Yes.”

Violet takes her jacket off and hangs it on your doorknob.

“Already takin’ off your clothes?” You plop down onto your freshly made mattress. Both girls look very stiff in your space; Is that normal? Maybe they’re nervous.

Both girls laugh the same. “Not like that. It is warm in here.” Sevika follows in Vi’s lead, removing her hoodie and her undershirt is squeezing her and yup those arms are still there those muscles are popping out yup yup yup—

“Yeah. I can’t sleep in the cold.” You pat your bedspread for them to sit… and they do. On either side of you. Vi brought her notebook and pencil. Sevika brought her heavily ringed hands.

She scoffs, “Me neither. Immune system is worse than a newborn’s.”

“Do you get sick easily?”

“Yes. I just got over it last week.”

“Damn…”

“Almost got me sick,” Violet pins playfully, skimming through her pages. She erases before rewriting. So so so so smart; too bad both her answers were wrong. You’ll show her the way soon enough.

“Coach would hate me. Her star pupil’s under the weather, what ever shall we do,” Sevika mocks and you both chuckle.

“The season starts next week. Y’all nervous?”

“No—“ “Yes—“

“I’m nervous for games, not practice,” Vi corrects, “I can’t find my fuckin’ shoes.”

“What shoes?”

“My cleats. My sister got ‘em for me a while ago, wear ‘em every match for good luck. I don’t remember where I fucking put them though.”

“Aww, ‘m sorry.”

Sorry for keeping them in my closet.

“S whatever. Just gotta get new ones.”

Small talk is boring as fuck, but it continues between you and Vi. Sevika’s quiet as a mouse; every glance in her direction is met with hooded eyes. She’s very focused on your nightstand drawer. Can she see what’s inside it? You hope so; Maybe your unworn thongs will motivate them to move this along.

“Awww! Wait, you used to play soccer?”

You already know all this. It’s on her fucking Instagram for fucks sake!

“On the junior team when I was like… 10! I was—“

Trash. I kept tripping over the fuckin’ ball—

“—And forgetting to tie my shoes. It was a hot fucking mess!”

Yup. Same as the caption.

The laughter between you finally quiets. You count 12 seconds in your head. You raise a hand to place it on the Hello Kitty bandage directly under her eye.

“What happened here?”

Sevika’s breathing is very calming.

“Got in a fight,” Vi mumbles. Poor things embarrassed! “Got socked in the eye.”

“Sorry,” Your hand rests in your lap, “Did I hurt you?”

“You’re good… still stings though. They gotta good one in.”

“How’d it happen?”

“Don’t remember honestly.”

“Oh okay.”

The conversation ends. Another 12 seconds.

“So… Did you guys fuck after I hung up?”

Sevika smiles and Vi chokes in shock. They’re so different. No wonder they’re so close.

“I— sorry, thought we were studying—“

“Who said we were gonna study?” You stare at Vi quizzingly.

“No one did. We mighta fucked.” Sevika shrugs nonchalantly.

“Oh… was it fun? Whatever it was.”

“Ask her.” She nods in direction of the girl whose face is beet fucking red. How cute!

“Vi… was it fun?”

Her eyes droop to the pencil in her hand before flicking it nervously.

“… I guess.”

“You guess?”

“That’s what I said.”

“… Okay.”

Vi sets her book and pencil on your nightstand before releasing a stuttered sigh.

“Tell me what happened if ya wanna,” Softness wafts off your tongue.

Vi swallows, “I… uh…”

“Mhm?”

“We… I didn’t…”

“I gave her head til she cried.” Sevika whispers right in your ear; tickling against your lobe and you’re suddenly winded. Vi’s legs twist until one crosses over the other.

Gave… Oh…

This isn’t new information. You’re 79% sure Sevika was Vi’s first kiss… or you heard something like that in passing, so why does the sudden confirmation make you wanna hide? Curl into your blankets and shield yourself from both of them?

“Oh… fun.” Your face burns underneath the skin.

“Very.”

“Yup…”

“You’re shy now? After all that?” Sevika almost laughs when your eyes drop to the floor.

“It’s uh, easier to talk when no one’s actually there.”

“We coulda been if you’d answered the fucking phone.”

“… Sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby.”

Sevika’s captain of the team for a reason; a leader by nature and Vi allows her to despite her anticipation. She's much closer now, the respectful distance she kept up upon arrival now completely shut, her shoulder touching yours, nearly straddling your leg.

There’s a light tickle on your thigh; Sevika’s index finger barely grazes the skin exposed beneath the hem of your skirt.

“You’re so stiff,” She whiffs tender against your neck and you choke a noise.

“I’m … ‘mscaredtobreathe—“

“Don’t be scared,” Sevika’s whole hand caresses your knee, eases you into her, all while Vi mouths at your neck. “Here, wanna know a secret?”

You release the air in your lungs, “Sure…”

She’ll never tell, so I will. Your head bobs so encouragingly.

Vi told me something after she showered that night.

With every buttery brustle against your shoulder, Vi’s hands gently attack wherever they can reach; the plush of your hips, on your thighs, grabbing at your tummy over your hoodie that takes up too much fucking space for her liking. You can’t stop squirming with every taut pull at the pit of your stomach.

I was sitting on my bed and she came in, and she smelled so good. I was trying to roll up again, but she took my tray and put it on my dresser…

Roll up? Tray? What what what the fuck is she saying—

And she got on her knees in front of me… and she looked so fucking cute just staring up at me like that, like she’d do anything to make me happy… She’s sweet like that if she’s in the mood.

She said ‘may I practice on you, please?’… And I said okay… So she pulls down my underwear and treats me so well. You wanna know who she was practicing for?

Yes, yes, please—

It was you, baby. She kept telling me how good she wanted to make your first time.

A strained noise chokes from your throat, and Vi smiles against your ear before her lips close around your lobe and it’s too much they’re too much—

Uh huh, and her tongue felt so fucking good on me. Almost impressive… and she loved every second of it.

Please… please, I’m—

Listen to that, Violet, she’s so fucking cute, isn’t she?

So sweet, too. Bet she tastes so fucking good.

She’s so hungry for you, baby, Sevika coos at you, Gonna stop teasing and give us what we want?

You agree obediently — desperately, with every thrumming cell you can use at the moment.

Vi’s benign hand rests on your cheek to turn you towards her before kissing you softly. A gentle peck before she pulls away. It’s overstimulating; Vi kissing and touching you like you’re made of glass while Sevika sucks large bruises on the side of your throat. Your nails dig into the muscular thigh that hardly shakes at your grip in attempts to ground yourself, but they fail because you’re about to faint.

Your sun kisses you deeper, holds your face tighter to keep you where she needs to tongue at your lips. You’re trying to keep up with her, to use the muscle like she uses hers, but you’re falling behind. They don’t seem to mind, satisfied with the fact that they’re gonna devour you regardless.

And when Vi lays you back nice and cozy against your pillows while Sevika kisses all over your face, you know you’re fucked.

—

Sevika and Vi take turns kissing you.

It’s a messy and uncoordinated mess of teeth and saliva, mainly because of you, but you like it. You love it. You hope they do, too. The warmth of their bodies beside you resonates deep in your core. Whenever one of them pulls away, the next is more than open to take her place, over and over. Your thighs are already shaking.

Your hoodies raised up thanks to Vi’s wandering hands, tucked right above your rib cage. Your stomach jolts when a feathery finger teases at the band of your skirt.

“You ticklish?” Vi mutters against your cheek.

“… Nope.”

“Yes—” She swipes the same finger against your exposed skin and you jump with a giggle, “you are. Liar.”

“Fuck you!”

“Yeah… I really, really want to.”

She doesn’t give you time to think of a response; just kisses you one last time before climbing onto her knees. Meanwhile, Sevika’s struggling to get comfortable in your bed. She’s essentially on top of you, both her legs wrapped around one of yours.

“Fucking — small ass mattress! I forgot how much I hate these!”

“S-Sorry! Couldn’t afford anything else — mmh!”

Sevika reconnects your mouths while the bed dips beside you. Then there’s lips on your tummy.

Laughter explodes outta you; Sevika can’t help but laugh into your mouth while Vi nibbles at your pudge. Her grin glows on your skin before her tongue glides on your hip. Her attention stays there; sloppy noises from above and below, your gasps swallowed with every bite Vi gives you.

You hardly register her pulling your skirt down. You’re just colder. And fuzzier in the head. Sevika breaks away to ask,

“How wet is she?”

Huh— oh she’s not talking to you yup yup—

“Come see.”

Sevika rises from position and you’re even colder. When she whistles at the spot on your underwear, your thighs squeeze shut… for 000.3 seconds before she pries them open again.

“Stop I’ll fucking cry—“

“Cry about what? That’s so fucking hot. You’re so cute, baby.”

“Bro I wanna die—“

Sevika rolls her eyes, “Bust one last time at least, damn.”

“Can we make it quick please I’m already on the verge—“

“Of cumming?” Sevika purrs.

“Of suicide—“

Vi’s in hysterics. You shouldn’t be this fucking funny. She watches you and Sevika go back and forth with tears in her eyes.

You bite, “Wonky ass foreplay—“

“I’ll strangle you—“

“I’ll like it—“

Both of you are fucking stupid. Neither of you notice Vi tugging your panties down. She almost starts drooling at the sight of your pussy. Swallows down the lump of saliva before it can drip down her chin. You’re wet and throbbing and pretty and you smell like heaven.

You gasp when two curious fingers separate your sticky lips; strings of slick cling to Vi’s digits. Sevika watches with an insatiable hunger.

“What do you like?” Vi whispers, and you shrug.

“I dunno, I’m new here.”

She rolls her eyes, “I mean what do you do when you touch yourself?

“I don’t do that.”

“Never?” Both girls exclaim.

You shake your head. “I tried once and nothing happened so I just ate spaghetti and went to bed.”

“Were you wet?”

Vi’s forbearing with her inquiries, but still, you’re on the fucking spot and you might start sneezing from anxiety. They’re too patient with you; Maybe you’ve been misreading how they were in bed this entire time. You were expecting them to be knuckles deep in every available hole by now.

You’ve never been so nervous, and for you, that’s saying a lot. “I don’t remember, it was years ago.”

“You’ve never used toys or anything?”

“I… No.”

Sevika stares at Vi, and Vi at Sevika, and you at the wall.

Your thighs twitch when velvet nuzzles at them, Vi’s voice deep as the ocean. “I’m gonna try something, tell me if you like it and I’ll keep going… okay?”

You can’t formulate a response but your head bounces in approval. A finger applies the gentlest of pressure on your clit and you expel a wheeze.

“Okay?” Sevika hums from above you, a hand easing underneath your hoodie to massage your breast.

“Ye-ah—“

“Sit up for me, honey,” She whispers and you obey so she can creep in behind you, your back resting against her chest. Both her hands rub at your chest this time, her fingers massage your nipples while Vi strokes your clit in slow, teasing circles.

“How’s this feel, babe?”

“G— good! Great… h-hooray?” How do pornstars dirty talk so eloquently? You’re literally fucking dying right now. Sevika laughs to herself in your neck and your chest burns.

“Yeah? And this?” She utters right before pressing in, flicking you from side to side and your core squeezes tight. You’re dripping and she watches so closely.

“Oh fuck—“

“There she is, good girl, just feel what she’s givin’ you.” Sevika rasps against your shoulder.

You are feeling and it’s too much for your body to comprehend. Your brain’s never been this focused on one thing. On one feeling, especially one this enjoyable. It’s so good it’s so good you love your fucking girlfriend—

“Tell me when you’re gonna cum?” Vi says against your soft skin

“Uhh…? I— oh god—“

“Getting there, baby? Feel how tight you’re getting? I can see it.”

2 ragged inhales and your eyes roll back and your jaw slacks and your nose tickles oh shit—

“Yeah, yeah, give it to me, c’mon—“

ACHOO!

Your thigh squeezes shut when euphoria overtakes your entire system; thighs clamping shut around Vi’s wrist while she giggles and rubs out your pleasure with ease because she’s stronger than you. Your initial efforts of staying as silent as possible were in vain because you’re squealing your little head off. Sevika rests back on her hands and watches like a hawk while you thrash and clench and leak all over her roommate’s hand.

“Good job. Felt nice, hm?”

You struggle to nod because you’re still cumming so hard and her fingers won’t cease on you. Your thighs stick together with your wetness.

“I’m still eating you out, you know that, right?”

Your whines of approval sound wounded.

You couldn’t see it, but when Vi finally pulled her hand from you, slurping noises swiftly followed, alongside Sevika’s hums of satisfaction.

Mentally preparing for your burial.

—

Vi might be obsessed with you.

She’s back in her original position between your thighs — with Sevika this time because she’s greedy — and fuck she’s never been so antsy to give head. She loves it and she loves getting it even more… at least she thought so. The aliens could come crashing down from the clouds and her first focus would still be getting you to soak her face.

You’re fully undressed now, minus a sock; its twin slipped off some fucking where but she couldn’t give a fuck. She’s so desperate to touch you again. It plagues her mind; stuffed with everything that she’s learned about you thus far. You sneeze before you orgasm for fucks sake that’s the cutest shit ever —

Can I?

She’s asking you and you’re whispering yes, please and fuck you moan so pretty when she first glides her tongue on you. Sevika allows her to ease you into the feeling, but she stays close enough to see every drop of slick that glides on Vi’s tongue. You’re so noisy and she loves that. All she can think about is how loud you’d be with your face in her pillow and your hands behind your back while she —

Vi! Violet! I’m cumming again!

You’re a fucking dream. An insane fucking freaky ass dream.

If anyone were to walk past your room right now, they’d be appalled at the ruckus that permeates through your space; sloppy sucking noises and encouraging praises and dehumanizing name calling that makes you grind your hips faster. You’re nearly riding her fucking face.

Vi wishes she could see you in entirety; memorize every thrust and wriggle you give into her face, drowning her in your scent and juices and everything she could ever want in this moment. You’re exactly what she needed; a pliant distraction. You turn her mind off so easily.

Sevika’s greedy and selfish as she raises one of your legs up with ease. You fall back onto the mattress with your back arched to the skies, a cracked wail squeezing from your lungs when another tongue smushes against your clit. Sevika sucks hard at your clit when Vi’s tongue swirls down to meet your entrance. The eager muscle wastes no time to shove inside and catch whatever bursts from you.

She moves on autopilot; eases one finger past your pulsing heat and your legs start to shake. The digit curls deep inside, plunges into you with vigor and determination to get you there, hits a spot that almost lands her a kick in the back of her head, but she catches you; curls an arm around your thigh to keep you still.

And the night — or afternoon or morning, none of you remember, continues like that until you’re drained completely dry and your body contracts from memory.

Hours pass when Sevika and Vi finally start tonguing each other down for your viewing pleasure, and it starts all over again.

—

r/AskReddit

u/artkiller 1s

2 butches are sleeping next to me rn…

never let a hoe tell you to stop following your dreams. i’ve been following mine for almost 3 years and now they’re sleep next to me….

#HAPPYPRIDE

#vi smut #vi arcane #vi fanfic #vi league of legends #sevika #sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika x you #vi x you #lesbian #rugbyplayer!vi #works 𖧧࣪#arcane smut #arcane

1K notes · View notes

mv1simp · 5 months ago

Text

Masterlist 💖

Requests: Open!! 😼

started this for the lolz idk how max verstappen seduced me into writing fanfic again 10 years after my last piece (a one direction wattpad classic at age 12), with a full time job and living on the opposite side of the globe but here we go 🏎️🏎️ do NOT repost/translate my writing I only post on tumblr so lmk if u see anything sus 🤨

MAX VERSTAPPEN (F1) X READER.

♥️ Into It - smut, romantic

the one where you’re trying to seduce your loving, sweet boyfriend into giving it to you good and rough.

READ PART ONE HERE (4k word count)

READ PART TWO HERE (4k word count)

READ PART THREE HERE (2.5k word count)

♥️ Dark Paradise - smut, dark

the one where innocent virgin!reader has been pining after her older brother’s best friend!Max.

READ IT HERE (5.5k word count)

♥️ Wicked Games - smut, toxic

the one where you hate playboy! Max after he broke your heart in a toxic situationship, but you two can't stay away from each other.

READ IT HERE (3.1k word count)

♥️ Friends - smut, dark

the one where innocent, virgin!reader asks childhood best friend! Max to help her get a boyfriend.

READ IT HERE (3.3k word count)

♥️ Popular - smut, enemies to lovers

the one where reporter!reader apologises to Mad Max after always pissing him off in interviews for the views.

READ IT HERE (4k word count)

♥️ What You Need - smut, dark

the one where innocent virgin! Reader recently started dating RB driver, Daniel. But it’s his younger, faster and richer ex teammate Max who treats you better - and he won’t stop until you’re all his.

READ IT HERE (4k word count)

♥️ Gods&Monsters - smut, dark

the one where you’re Lewis’s innocent sister, and are desperate to be a driver. Even if it means obediently following the coaching of your family's enemy, Max Verstappen.

READ IT HERE (3.4k word count)

♥️ Earned It - smut, romantic

the one where you and your devoted husband, Max, are happily married with your three pets for years. One night, he surprises you by bringing up the topic of having a real baby.

PART ONE (5.7k word count)

PART TWO (7k word count)

♥️ Low Life - smut, dark

the one where Mad Max decides to get back at his antagonising boss by using his precious bratty daughter who's promised she'll save herself for marriage.

READ IT HERE (5.2k word count)

♥️ Into You - humour, romantic

the one where you’re Max Verstappen’s new race engineer. Great news for women in motorsport! There’s just one problem though…you’ve been secretly in love with the Dutchman for years.

READ IT HERE (3.2k word count)

♥️ Just Hold On, We’re Going Home - smut, romantic

the one where you and your fiancé, Max, grew up under the weight of demanding fathers. After a bad race where Max ends up in a low place mentally, you know how to make him feel better.

READ IT HERE (3.1k word count)

♥️ Cuffing Szn - smut, romantic

the one where you find your beauty under harsh scrutiny from Max's fans when you go public. He uses a rather…hands on method to prove you have nothing to worry about.

READ IT HERE (3.3k word count)

♥️ Streets - smut, humour

the one where you’re the exasperated PR Manager for notorious playboy!Max. But when you’re sick of cleaning up his PR messes, he offers a very practical solution to your problem.

READ IT HERE (4.7k word count)

♥️ Double Fantasy - smut, dark

the one where you’ve landed your dream job as a FIA executive as Toto Wolff's pretty daughter. You’re eager to become Lando’s girlfriend…until he hands you over as an apology gift to Max.

READ IT HERE (5.6k word count)

♥️ Haunted - smut, enemies to lovers

the one where you're Mercedes' new rookie driver, and your very late presentation makes your relationship with your rival, Max, turn upside down. Omegaverse AU

PART ONE (5.4k word count)

PART TWO (10k word count)

♥️ Girls Need Love -smut, romantic

the one where you’re Carlos’ younger sister, the inexperienced, shy princess of your family. But when you meet his friend Max, you can’t hold back your want anymore…and neither can he.

READ IT HERE (5k word count)

♥️ High For This - smut, dark

the one where you're Ferrari's princess and often fight the Dutch Lion in wheel to wheel battles. But on a night out, you find there's something in the air (or in your drink) that makes you give into secret desires for your rival, Max.

READ IT HERE (3.7k word count)

♥️ You Belong To Me - smut, dark

the one where you’re Charles’s baby sister, and have always had a crush on his childhood friend, Max, until he becomes your bully and worst nightmare. Now, years later, you meet again…and this time he won’t let you escape.

READ IT HERE (9k word count)

♥️ You Get Me So High - smut, dark

the one where you're a strategist for McLaren, and have plotted up many a plan that lead to Redbull's downfall this year. Max Verstappen isn't fond of your schemes, so when you fall into his sinful world of pleasure and partying, he can't resist a chance to ruin you completely.

READ IT HERE (4.1k word count)

♥️ Sweet Like Candy - smut, dark

the one where Max’s interest is finally peaked after months of boredom - by a angelic looking camgirl with a mouth of sin. Just wait till he finds out that you were the ex teammate’s sister he’d always assumed to be shy and innocent.

READ IT HERE (3.8k word count)

♥️ Paradise - smut, dark

the one where after retiring from his successful racing career, Max Verstappen goes on to be team principal of his equally successful racing team. Too bad he just can't stop thinking about putting his star racer - you - out of commission permanently by getting you pregnant.

READ IT HERE (1.8k word count)

♥️ Devilish - smut, mafia! au

the one where you're the people's princess, as the daughter of the Mayor of Monaco. And you're determined to put your family's enemies behind bars - the infamous Verstappen mafia. But there's a fine line between love and war...and you learn this the hard way with Max Verstappen, the Dutch Leuuw.

READ IT HERE (9.5k word count)

♥️ Birthday Sex - smut

the one where you're Max's best friend and are determined to find him the perfect birthday present since he's spoilt you every year on yours. Just when you're ready to give up, inspiration strikes when you overhear him complaining about the one thing he wants in bed.

READ IT HERE (3.3k word count)

♥️ Unforgettable - smut, dark

the one where Max trains his innocent best friend to take him perfectly. Too bad you had no idea how far your beloved childhood friend had taken you training, given how you were usually peacefully asleep in his bed when he began.

READ IT HERE (4.2k word count)

♥️ Slow Down - smut, Twitter! AU

You and Max Verstappen have recently gone public with your relationship, a true enemies to lovers tale as Redbull’s golden boy and Ferrari’s princess. The public still think it’s all a PR scam…until your sex tape gets leaked. Your fans lose it!!

READ IT HERE

♥️ Vegas, Baby - smut

You and Max both take racing victories in Vegas 2024, you winning your first F2 race and Max of course taking his 4th WDC. What better way to congratulate your good friend and teammate than rewarding him with post race sex at the club after party?

READ IT HERE

#max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #f1 imagine #masterlist #fanfiction #f1 x reader #max verstappen x oc

1K notes · View notes

httpsserene · 5 months ago

Note

can you do a smau if you want where the reader is a driver and makes music on the side (music like sza or Megan thee stallion and kaliii) and she makes a music video for area codes and all her other music and it has the drivers in it

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 (𝐟𝟏) - 𝐲𝐧. 𝟎

summary: you make hit songs when you’re not driving a formula one car. your fellow drivers love to feature in your music videos. content warning: driver!reader makes music. toxic internet culture. profanity. hateful comments. attempt at humor. fluffy. light angst ig. there's no specific face claim, just pretty black women! ex-haas driver, current aston martin driver!reader. reader is american. seb retires in 2021, fernando is on the grid just not with aston martin. nikita mazepin mention lol. lando norris and george russell get bullied (humor). light british slander. no plot just vibes. pairing: platonic f1 grid x fem!black!driver!reader genre: smau.

from serene: i have a disease and it's called "being unable to make a normal length smau." it's a sickness, idk if i'll ever be abl to fulfill a request without the plot running away from me. anyways, enjoy loves xxx

⌕ join taglist | requests & feedback | table of contents ↻

yn ln signs multi-year contract with aston martin • espn f1 • 2021 post-season

ESPN F1 yn ln has signed a multi-year contract with Aston Martin! The American driver completes the team’s lineup with Lance Stroll. Even though she was an F4, F3, and GP3 Champion, and she won the F2 Championship on her first try with Prema; her F1 career began with unexpected opportunities and last-minute substitutions—becoming a reserve driver for Haas and filling in for Romain Grosjean after his accident in 2020, and then replacing Nikita Mazepin halfway through the 2021 F1 season—an official seat of her own in Formula One was a long time coming and well deserved. Congratulations to yn ln, the first Black woman to race in Formula One!

instagram • yn0 • 2022 pre-season

liked by astonmartinf1, lewishamilton, maxverstappen, sza, and 3,451,967 others

yn0: i have always believed that being an f1 driver would become my reality. it was a never a dream to me because i KNEW i was going to make it here. i’m incredibly thankful to haas for giving my first chance to race in the big league and i will miss all the incredible people who helped me grow and improve while i was there. however, i am extremely grateful and excited to have a seat of my own at aston martin in 2022 and onward. some critics have called me "conceited" to bet on myself, so i made a song just for them < 3

tagged astonmartinf1

view comments

yn0 on sundays, we wear green 💚

➥ user1 you're an inspiration to all women in motorsport, especially women of color 💚💚💚

➥ user2 praying that your aston is quicker than your haas! prove the haters wrong 😤

astonmartinf1: we'll bet on you every race! can't wait to play this in the garage 💚

haasf1team: take care of our songbird 🥲

➥ haasf1team: and keep the tea and honey STOCKED for her vocal cords

➥ user3: i’m gonna cry :(

user4: yeah who paid for her seat? no way she got it off skill. she's never been above p12. f1 has changed for the worse now that a woman's out there. she's a hazard.

➥ user5: incel mindset 😒

➥ user6: bro she was in a haas. reaching p12 in that car is enough of an achievement. better than mazepin ever did, even with his daddy's money 🤷‍♂️

lewishamilton: LFG 💪🏽💪🏽💪🏽 can't wait to see you in the paddock

➥ yn0: lfgggggg 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

➥ yn0: i wouldn't be racing at all if i didn't see you do it first :)

sebastianvettel: prove them all wrong and never apologize for it.

➥ yn0: i learned from the best 🥹 happy retirement, seb!

mickschumacher: "no reason to make friends, i'm cool"??? is that line about somebody else or should i be worried 🤨

➥ maxverstappen: yeah let us know 🙄 your seat on the jet can be revoked

➥ yn0: bros...we all know who it's really about

➥ user8: you can say it's about mazepin nobody will be mad at that 🤗🤗🤗

landonorris: wish it was papaya, but i can't wait to see you in green!

➥ yn0: you know what?i think I CAN wait

➥ yn0: i'm actually going to quit f1 rn i think 😐

➥ user9: lando stop, get some help

lancestroll: hi teammate!

➥ yn0: hi teammate!

➥ user6: oh,,, this is awkward

charlesleclerc: finally 🙌🏻 i thought you would never drop this song

➥ yn0: the music is more important than my f1 seat to you 🙂

➥ charlesleclerc: encore encore encore 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

georgerussell: i would be happy for you if i didn't know this meant you'll be bullying me every race weekend

➥ alexalbon: she smells your fear which makes you an easy target

➥ alexalbon: CONGRATSSS 🥳🥳🥳🥳

➥ yn0: 🤭

instagram • yn0 • 2022

liked by charlesleclerc, lewishamilton, megantheestallion, and 2,191,042 others

yn0: thee "cognac queen" learns how to celebrate their FIRST EVER f1 points in italy with their honorary prince 🇮🇹 im in my gacccc, i wanna danceeee, come get yo man, come getcho maaaannnnn 🍾🍾🍾

tagged charlesleclerc

view comments

user10: WOOOOOAH WHATS ABOUT TO PLAY 😳

➥ user11: she PUT IT ON HIM last night apparently 🫣

➥ user12: he calling her BACK TO BACK????

astonmartinf1: you only win first points once but you only have one liver. please show up to the paddock next week 🥴

➥ yn0: don't worry admin i'll be there bright and early!

➥ user13: drink responsibly kids alcohol poisoning is not fun

➥ user14: aston martin shouldn't stress. it sounds like charles took very good care of her 😏😏😏

user15: i feel like i shouldn't be allowed to watch that video (i'm 23)

➥ user16: they were having a tiiiiiiiiime out in italy 🫦

➥ user17: if she was all over me like she was on charles i would be asking about marriage. he's so much stronger than i am 🙂‍↔️

charlesleclerc: went courvoisier crazyyyy

➥ charlesleclerc: je suis très fière de toi (i'm very proud of you) ❤️

➥ yn0: thank you charlieee (for the mv too x) 😚

➥ user18: oh so she really got charles thinking that he's her man???

➥ user19: you were DOGGING it? i didn’t know charles had it in him 🐶🐶🐶

user20: ew this is gross. charles is in a happy relationship and we're all going to pretend like yn isn't a homewrecker???

➥ user21: i was waiting to see this comment! this is like proof she used her body to get on the grid 👀

mickschumacher: no way you put charles in a video before me...i thought we were locked in 😞

➥ yn0: mick be so for real. you hate cognac :(

➥ user22: mick said we suffered through haas together and you already forgot about me

landonorris: are you looking for a cognac king?

➥ alexalbon: boys point and laugh 🫵🏼🤣

➥ charlesleclerc: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ maxverstappen: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ georgerussell: 🫵🏻🤣

➥ mickschumacher: 🫵🏻🤣🤣🤣💀

➥ user23: 🫵🏾🤣

lewishamilton: xnda feature when you make it on the podium

➥ yn0: i'll be up there next week.

➥ user24: bring back xnda girl !!! for all of us 🙇🏽‍♀️

instagram • yn0 • 2022

liked by alexalbon, astonmartinf1, maxverstappen, sza, and 4,233,761 others

yn0: my girl is my girl, is your girl, heard that's his girl too...he's like 9 to 5, i'm "the weekend"

tagged alexalbon, lilymhe

view comments

astonmartinf1: highest race finish of your career can you drop a fire song to celebrate 🥵

➥ lancestroll: team karaoke when????

➥ yn0: make it happen and i will show out for y'all 💯

user25: this video was funny af! my favorite song from you so far 😁

➥ user26: yessss i was not expecting her to flip the song in the video like that 🤌🏻💋

➥ user27: the premise of her and alex fighting over lily was perfect 👌🏽

lilymhe: make me lose my mind every weekend 😮‍💨

➥ alexalbon: you take wednesday thurday 🧎🏼‍♂️‍➡️

➥ yn0: then just send her my wayyyyy 🤤

➥ user28: think i got it covered for the weekend 🎤🎶

landonorris: i'm available any day of the week with no other commitments blocking my schedule ☺️

➥ georgerussell: mate this is embarrasing

➥ mickschumacer: lando no wins & no rizz what a shame 😒

➥ user29: MICK CHILLLLL ⁉️⁉️

➥ user30: whatdidhedo to deserve that calm downnnn

➥ charlesleclerc: lando please just listen to the song like everybody else this is painful to see 😣

maxverstappen: you laced this song with something addictive

➥ schecoperez: i hear it on repeat through the wall he is not lying

➥ user31: yn ln gives you wings 🤪

user32: just because lily was in the video and yn made the focus of the song about her doesn't mean that the orginal song is okay? it's not like she stopped singing about being a side chick.

➥ user33: no, it literally IS okay. because lily and alex both said they made the song with her and were happy to be in the video 🙂

➥ user34: i don't know, lily agreeing to the video makes me dislike her

➥ user35: yeah this song was a miss not a good message at all

instagram • danica patrick • 2022

liked by 10,764 others

danicapatrick: “This past weekend the Aston Martin F1 crew celebrated yn’s P5 finish track side and, honestly, that was unnecessary. It’s not like she managed to reach the podium and personally, I feel like she doesn’t take F1 seriously. I mean, it seems like she spends more time making explicit songs than she does preparing for a race weekend. Her little songs are a distraction to the men on the grid and she appears as a promiscuous, immature, and unfocused girl. She’s not the formula one standard, in my opinion.”

I discuss yn ln’s career in the new episode of my podcast, Pretty Intense! Click the link in my bio to hear it all!

tagged prettyintensebydanica

view comments

user36: ms. patrick are you familiar with the idea of having a hobby 🤔

nicorosberg: how are you qualified to be an expert on sky sports?

user37: woman who's never raced in f1 gives her unsolicited opinion on the only black woman to race in f1 😂

user38: danica this screams jealousy girl

user39: nothing is worse than hearing a fellow girl hate like a man smh

user40: "her little songs" disrespectful as hell don't forget one of them charted on billboard's top 10 😤

user41: SHE GOT P5 IN AN ASTON MARTIN how is that not taking f1 seriously????

user42: if her songs were a distraction to the men on the grid aren't they the ones who should be described as unfocused🤫

➥ user42: anyways, yn would be doing us a favor. maybe max wouldn't win as many races if that were the case

instagram • yn0 • 2022 post-season

liked by dominicfike, keithpowers, tchalamet, summerwalker, and 7,988,531 others

yn0: "girls need love," too.

view comments

user43: OH MY GOD the drought is over 😭😭😭

➥ user44: i thought we'd never get another song after the hate she was getting for it 😫

michaelbjordan: are you interested in a private studio session?

➥ landonorris: she don't want u lil bro 🤣

➥ user45: yn's pulling with three photo's and a song,,,teach me your ways

astonmartinf1: the spine tattoo 😍 good choice to get it during the off-season 💚

➥ user46: i misjudged you aston... i thought y'all told her to stop making music glad to see the support is still there :)

mickschumacher: let’s go get some gelato?

➥ yn0: as long as you don’t snitch to my trainer 😚

➥ mickschumacher: i’ll pick you up 😇

➥ landonorris: imma bout to crash TF out ong 💢💢

patriciooward: there's a spot on my side of the garage whenever you want to watch an indycar race

➥ landonorris: oh wow is this really what we're doing pato 😐

➥ user47: the tension in this comment section scares me

jjetas2: if you're near minnesota one day fall through

➥ landonorris: win a superbowl first 🥱😴

➥ user48: LANDO you haven't won a race or a championship either 😭

judebellingham: have you gotten any better at football since the last time we spoke?

➥ landonorris: knew i supported man united for a reason 😒

lore_musetti: call me if you want a real italian to give you a tour of italy x

➥ landonorris: didn't know an italian could disrespect charles like that honestly 🤨

➥ user49: 💀💀💀

instagram • yn0 • 2023

liked by georgerussell, mickschumacher, megantheestallion, and 4,178,063 others

yn0: japanese nightlife captured in my new music video “mamushi” !!! thank uuu yuki-san for being my tour guide 💋💋💋💋💋💋

tagged yukitsunoda

view comments

georgerussell: i quite enjoy this song 😌

➥ alexalbon: bro what

➥ yn0: tEa aND cRuMPets SConEs AnD biScUIts 💂🇬🇧

charlesleclerc: triple platinum in my house rn ⭐️⭐️⭐️

➥ alexandrasaintmleux: i'm responsible for at least a million views on my own 🥱

➥ yn0: 💚💚💚💚💚

user50: at least we know that yn and yuki can qualify for formula drift if they ever lose their f1 seat

➥ user51: 95% of the driving they were doing in that video looked illegal (but fun asl i'm not a buzzkill)

➥ user52: she's a bad influence on yuki 🙄

➥ user53: i don't think you're familiar with yuki tsunoda at all @/user52

maxverstappen: yeah the song is catchy; where's mine 🥱

➥ yn0: damn you're gonna win a third championship this year and you want a song too 😱

➥ yn0: just big and greedy fr 😒

➥ user54: big back attitude

➥ user55: like sheesh leave something for the rest of us 🤯

user50: gets p3 in suzuka driving an aston 🗿-> shrugs when asked how she did it 🗿 -> makes a banger mv in japan with yuki 🗿 -> refuses to elaborate 🗿

pierregasly: yuki explain your behavior in this video

➥ yukitsunoda: no 🤗

➥ user56: maybe he would've told you if you stayed at alphatauri

➥ user57: now you're in an alpine 🫵🏻😭

instagram • yn0 • 2023 post-season

liked by charlesleclerc, logansargeant, glorillathepimp, and 9,337,272 others

yn0: he don't "wanna be" saved don't save him 🤫

tagged maxverstappen

view comments

yn0: i don't need insurance cause a bitch CAN'T WRECK ME

➥ user58: no like she's never been in a crash her entire f1 career 🤓

➥ user59: she's untouchable srs

logansargeant: WHITE BOY WASTED CHANNING TATUM

➥ yn0: hoes love me like justin bieber 👅👅👅

user60: omg an old picture from yn's haas era when max's redbull wasn't a rocket ship 😩

➥ haasf1team: good times

➥ astonmartinf1: 💚💚💚

maxverstappen: you graduated from the max verstappen school of being unstoppable 😼

➥ charlesleclerc: austria 2022

➥ georgerussell: brazil 2022

➥ mickschumacher: my dad’s 7 championships

➥ alexalbon: i have nothing to add (literally)

➥ maxverstappen: out of the five of us we have three total world championships and they're all mine 😐

glorillathepimp: go yn 🥵

➥ yn0: get it glo 👅

➥ user61: i am no better than a man

➥ user62: i want this video tattooed on my eyelids

mickschumacher: i don't wanna be saved don't save me

➥ yn0: on gang 🤞🏾🔒🙅🏾‍♀️

kellypiquet: twenty missed calls...

➥ yn0: i would like to initiate a trade! i offer: max :) in return i receive: my twin p 🤲🏾

➥ kellypiquet: i will have a bag packed for her TONIGHT

➥ user63: kelly definitely won in that trade agreement! a childfree night??? sign me the fuck up ‼️

user64: i didn't think it was possible but this song is the worst thing she's ever made 😂

➥ user65: it's weird. max is in a committed relationship with a woman and has bonded with her kid. yn's getting involved with him when she shouldn't be 🤷‍♀️

➥ user66: girl she's been around since wayyyy before kelly as max's friend.

➥ user67: she forced max into friendship when they were karting back when he thought he couldn't have racing friends🥺

➥ user66: trauma bonded besties fr

sky sports f1 • 2024 testing

instagram • yn0 • 2024

liked by natalie_pinkham, danielricciardo, laybankz and 5,438,023 others

yn0: (my honest reaction when the internet can't stop talking shit about me) can't i make fun music videos without being called a homewrecker or a whore? sometimes "girls just wanna" f1 !

view comments

user68: no bc she makes hot girl music and y'all dont appreciate it 🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️🤷🏽‍♀️

➥ user69: if you don't like her music you're not a baddie i don't make the rules 🙅🏻‍♀️

user70: did she just make the song of the summer 😱😵‍💫☠️

➥ user71: song of the YEAR !!! and people calling her a whore smh

landonorris: what if you make an mv with me and instead of being called a whore i call you my girlfriend?

➥ mickschumacher: corny. delete your account 🚮

➥ user72: i disagree with mick, he ate that up imo 👀

➥ user73: isn't he messing around with that model/actress though…

➥ user74: you mean m*gui lol

➥ yn0: who's that

➥ user74: lando's recent sneaky link or gf i thought

➥ yn0: oh

charlesleclerc: if i were to call you one thing it would not be homewrecker or whore ✊🏻

➥ charlesleclerc: it would be hit-maker because you DO NOT MISS 😩

➥ alexalbon: one could even call her the 🐐

➥ georgerussell: grammy caliber artist

➥ maxverstappen: they compare her to lebron and simone biles in discussion of being the greatest of all time 😌

➥ yn0: just yesterday y'all said i give slut energy (affectionately) 😕

➥ maxverstappen: many things can be true at the same time

➥ charlesleclerc: false ‼️ accusations

sabrinacarpenter: girls just wanna have fun 😋

➥ user75: OMG sabrina what are you doing here

➥ user76: what in the disney channel crossover episode is going on

imessage • yn -> lando

instagram • yn0 • 2024

liked by mclaren, mickschumacher, lewishamilton, laybankz, and 8,765,392 others

yn0: dropping the "tell ur girlfriend" video tonight as celebration for lando's first win (me next please!) i DO NOT codone cheating but the song is too hard for me to pretend like it's not a banger 🤪

tagged landonorris

view comments

landonorris: you look good in papaya 🧡🧡🧡

➥ astonmartinf1: it's a little too much for our tastes 🤢

➥ yn0: i look good in any color but i do happen to prefer green 💚

➥ user77: i think lando's on to smth w the orange tho 🤔

landonorris: that's my girlfriend !!!!

➥ yn0: NO I AM NOT ❌❌❌

➥ yn0: WE WERE ACTING IN THIS MUSIC VIDEO

➥ yn0: LANDO I WILL SUE YOU FOR DEFAMATION 🤬

➥ landonorris: i'll wait for you 😔

➥ mickschumacher: she's so uninterested in you mate 🙃

user78: he gets his first win and a yn ln music video i know he's on cloud nine 😭😭😭

➥ user79: lando how does it feel to be living my dream 😩

oscarpiastri: oh thank god maybe he'll stop talking about you nonstop now that he got a video 🙏🏻

➥ landonorris: bro delete this comment

➥ user80: i screenshotted it too late 🫡

user81: she doesn't condone cheating but makes a song promoting it anyways 😑

➥ user82: she doesn't condone cheating but messes with lando even though she knows he's taken by magui 😑

➥ user83: she doesn't condone cheating but makes a song about it because it sounds fucking fire 🫦👅🔥🔥🔥

alexalbon: great video too much lando for me 😪

➥ georgerussell: he really just ruined the vibe

➥ charlesleclerc: y'all just mad you haven't been in one of her videos yet 🙂‍↔️

➥ maxverstappen: i don't see how you can hate from outside of the club 🤷🏼‍♂️

➥ landonorris: you can't even get in 🫵🏻🤣

twitter • yn0

instagram • yn -> the day ones

instagram • yn0 • 2024 post-season

liked by maxverstappen, fernandoalonso, zhouguanyu24, kaliii and 12,779,436 others

yn0: hoes mad about my roster being INTERNATIONAL smh stay mad and watch the music video for "area codes" it features all the men (my FRIENDS ✨) you'll never have a chance with 😇😚🤗🤭🤤💚💚💚

tagged f1

view comments

user84: no xnda feature but she got lewis in the fucking video

user85: i just wannna know hwo the fuck she got checo to be in the video 💀

user86: idc what the haters say: she just said y'all have no motion, no aura, no bitches and what are you gonna do about it 😳😳😱

user89: she got lando and mick in a photo together??? how they've been beefing in her comments for years 😧

➥ user90: can't believe im saying this but esteban did not deserve to be punished like that 😬

georgerussell: i am the one feeding her pasta and lobster btw

➥ yn0: you don't send me money tho :(

➥ georgerussell: you are an f1 driver too you don't need my money 🧐

charlesleclerc: can you leave some talent for the rest of us 😒

➥ yn0: bro u are mozart on your days off be serious

lilymhe: cause why are u never in town 😞

➥ alexalbon: cause she'll steal you from me 😭😫

➥ yn0: i'm pulling up rn lils 🫦

lewishamilton: you want a mercedes or a xnda feature?

➥ yn0: im tryna take the mercedes seat you left behind 👀

➥ user91: omfg toto sign herrrrrrrr ✍️

maxverstappen: anything for my favorite lady 🙇🏼🧎🏼‍♂️

➥ yn0: i gotta go they just lmk that i could pick up my mercedes 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

user92: lando in two photos? sus

➥ landonorris: you said it not me 🤫

➥ mickschumacher: bro you acted like her shadow the entire night don't let it go to your head 😠

fernandoalonso: very fun song!

➥ user93: you too old to be doin all that fernando :/

➥ user94: literally choked when i saw him in the video

logansargeant: hey you did manage to get me in "one of your little music videos" 🤭

➥ yn0: if only they knew that you agreed with a bribe of two zebra cakes

➥ user95: they couldn't fathom the delicacy that is a zebra cake 🤤

yn0: stop pretending to dislike my songs and realize that the boys are my homies. you'll be a lot happier when you come to terms with that 🥱

#f1 x reader #f1 x black!reader #f1 x driver!reader #f1 x female reader #f1 smau #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #alex albon x reader #george russell x reader #mick schumacher x reader #serene’s chapters.#⋆⭒˚｡⋆. series special: formula 1

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creamflix · 22 days ago

Text

ONCE MORE TO SEE YOU — toji fushiguro x female reader [oneshot]

summary: you’re a single mom with a schedule that leaves little room for anything but work and longing. twice a week, you get to hold your daughter close, pouring all your love into moments that always feel too short. across the hallway, there’s toji — a single dad who watches from a distance, arms crossed, jaw tight, as he wonders how you juggle work and parenting and still manage to make your kid so happy. at first, he’s envious. envious of your composure, your warmth, the way your daughter looks at you like you’re her whole world. but slowly, that envy shifts. what happens when two broken hearts start to lean on each other, finding strength in the spaces they thought would stay empty? can you let someone in without fear of breaking again? can he?

content warnings: fluff, slight angst with comfort. strangers to friends to lovers. slow burn. single parent/divorced (female) reader. single parent toji. reader has a girl [aged 8-9] no name specified, megumi is the same age as well. reader has a toxic/manipulative ex husband. happy ending. lot of feels. very personally penned </3 mentions of other characters: nanami, yuuji, nobara, gojo & sukuna

read on ao3!

toji didn’t usually care much about other people’s business, but you? you were impossible to ignore.

it wasn’t just because your door slammed too loud when your kid came running out, or because you always seemed to be lugging some heavy-ass groceries up the stairs with that determined scowl of yours. it was how you did it all like some damn perfectionist.

toji hated it.

hated the way it made him feel like he should be trying harder too, especially when his kid, megumi, was busy leaving trails of destruction like a little tornado.

“megumi, stop throwing the damn ball against the wall!” he bellowed one evening, slumping further into his couch. the kid ignored him, of course.

then, as if the universe hated him, your door creaked open, and there you were, strolling into the hallway like you had nothing better to do. arms crossed, brows raised, you peered down at him with that no-nonsense air of yours.

“maybe he’s bored?” you suggested, leaning casually against your doorframe.

toji snorted. “maybe he’s just an asshole.”

your face scrunched in disapproval, the kind he’d seen a million times from the PTA moms who used to glare at him when he showed up late to pick up megumi. but you didn’t launch into a lecture like he expected. instead, you glanced at megumi, who had paused mid-throw to stare at you, and crouched down to his level.

“hey, buddy,” you said, voice softening in a way that made toji’s stomach twist. “why don’t you try aiming for that spot over there?” you pointed to a section of the wall that wouldn’t drive everyone insane. megumi actually listened, and toji couldn’t decide if he was impressed or pissed off.

“what, you think you’re some kind of kid whisperer?” he muttered, shoving his hands into his hoodie pocket.

you stood, brushing off your knees, and looked him dead in the eye. “no, but i know how to talk to them.”

toji scowled. “yeah, must be nice, being born with that magic ‘mom gene.’”

you blinked, then burst out laughing, and for some reason, that annoyed him even more.

“mom gene? toji, i only have my kid on weekends. the rest of the time, it’s just me and a bottle of wine trying not to lose my mind.”

he frowned, caught off guard. “wait, what?”

“yeah, divorce does that to you.” your voice was breezy, but your eyes flickered with something darker for a split second. “not that it’s any of your business.”

toji chewed on that revelation, something prickling at the edges of his brain. you weren’t some perfect supermom after all. you were just...getting by, same as him.

the realization didn’t sit well — it made you seem less annoying and more...real. vulnerable, even.

“huh,” he grunted, looking away, suddenly too aware of how quiet the hallway had gotten. megumi was still tossing the ball, but it was softer now, more controlled. “guess you’re not as put together as you seem.”

“and you’re not as big of a jerk as you seem,” you shot back, giving him a pointed look before retreating to your apartment.

toji stared after you, jaw tight, until the door clicked shut. something about you made him itch, made him feel like he needed to either punch a wall or figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about how you smiled at his kid.

damn it.

toji sat at the edge of his couch, one hand wrapped around a cold beer and the other flipping through a stack of bills. the TV was on, low volume, playing some mindless sports recap he wasn’t even watching. megumi was somewhere in his room, the faint clatter of toys filtering down the hall. the kid had been sulking since this morning, muttering about how “nobody does anything fun.”

he grunted, rubbing a hand down his face. it wasn’t like he didn’t want to take the kid out, but hell, it was hard enough keeping the lights on. trips to the park felt like a luxury he couldn’t afford — time or energy.

and then he heard it. your laugh, loud and unapologetic, echoing in the hallway like it owned the place. toji tilted his head back against the couch, scowling at the ceiling as if that would make the sound go away. it didn’t. instead, it was followed by the high-pitched giggle of your kid, shrieking with joy as the two of you stomped down the stairs.

“hold on, mama needs her shoes!” your voice floated up through the doorframe, playful but firm.

“hurry! we’re gonna miss the swings!” your daughter yelled back, her excitement enough to make toji wince. he could practically see the image of you two — hand in hand, all smiles, making your way to the park like you didn’t have a care in the world.

his jaw tightened. perfect. just another reminder of how much he sucked at this parenting thing.

he took a long swig of his beer and stared at the stack of bills like it was their fault he couldn’t be the kind of dad who made his kid laugh like that. no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t just...be you. he didn’t know how to make life look that easy.

“megumi,” he called, his voice rougher than he meant it to be.

there was a pause, the kind that made him think the kid wasn’t going to answer, before a small, reluctant “yeah?” drifted back.

toji sighed, setting the beer down. “you wanna...go outside or somethin’?”

another pause. then: “what for?”

the response hit harder than he cared to admit. what for? shouldn’t his kid want to? shouldn’t he be the one excited to spend time with his old man? but megumi sounded skeptical, like he’d already decided it wouldn’t be fun.

“never mind,” toji muttered, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “forget it.”

the sound of the door to megumi’s room clicking shut made toji’s shoulders sag further.

outside, your laughter faded, replaced by the echo of your footsteps retreating into the distance. he leaned back on the couch, staring at the flickering TV screen, feeling something in his chest tighten and pull.

toji didn’t know when exactly it had started bothering him — this stupid, begrudging little alliance the two of you had. you’d come over when megumi refused his medicine, talking to the kid with that low, steady voice of yours until he opened his mouth like it was no big deal. and toji would come over when your sink started leaking, muttering under his breath the whole time about how you should’ve called a damn plumber.

but this? this was different. it wasn’t about fixing a sink or calming a tantrum. it was about the fact that you always seemed to do better — better at this whole parenting thing, better at making life fun, better at...everything.

and he hated that. hated how it made him feel like he was doing it all wrong.

maybe tomorrow would be different. maybe tomorrow he’d try harder. but for tonight, toji sat in the dim light of his living room, beer in hand, listening to the muffled sounds of megumi’s toys clattering in the other room, and let himself wonder — just for a second — what it’d be like to get it right.

your neighbors thought you had it all figured out — the strict yet cool mom who always had her shit together. you weren’t the one scrambling for groceries or apologizing to the pharmacist because you forgot to refill a prescription. no, your pantry was always stocked, the fridge had every snack your daughter loved, and there was always a pack of pads tucked in the bathroom cabinet, just in case. because if there was one thing you were going to do, it was prepare. even if it was only for two days a week.

but those two days weren’t enough. not for you, anyway.

your daughter was happy, blissfully unaware of how unnatural this arrangement felt to you. she was too young to see what you saw, to feel the cracks in your chest every time sunday evening rolled around and your ex-husband came to pick her up. you watched her climb into the car without a second thought, giggling about whatever they had planned for the week ahead, and you stood on the curb with a smile that felt like it might crack your face in half.

because this wasn’t the norm. at least, it shouldn’t have been.

but she didn’t know that, and how could you tell her? how could you explain that the only reason the divorce had been so clean and quick was because you’d made sure it was? no yelling, no lawyers, no drawn-out battles over custody. you wanted it over before she could develop memories sharp enough to stick.

and it worked — she was happy. unbothered. as if this was just how life was supposed to be.

you hated it.

you hated it almost as much as you hated sitting alone in your too-quiet apartment for the other five days of the week, waiting. hoping. praying for something, anything, that would keep her with you longer.

sometimes, you’d stare at your phone, willing it to light up with a text from your ex. something like hey, last-minute work trip, can you take her this week? or she’s asking to stay with you, is that okay?

but those texts never came. and your little girl never asked. she loved you, you knew that, but she didn’t need you in the way you wished she did. not yet.

not like you needed her.

so, you waited. and in the waiting, you heard everything else.

the muffled shouts of toji and his kid through the walls. the occasional crash of what was probably a wrestling match in their living room. the bark of laughter when megumi said something funny. the kind of noise that used to fill your own apartment, before the silence settled in like an unwelcome guest.

you missed that noise. you missed the mess of it, the chaos, the constant reminder that there was life happening right in front of you.

some nights, you’d hear megumi’s voice drift into the hallway, arguing with his dad about bedtime, and you’d feel a pang in your chest so sharp it made you suck in a breath. you didn’t even know what you were hoping for anymore — a reason to knock on toji’s door? an excuse to borrow sugar or offer some unsolicited parenting advice? maybe it was just the idea of not being alone that called to you, the longing for that noise to become a permanent fixture in your home.

but the door stayed closed, and you stayed on your side, waiting.

thanksgiving wasn’t something you cared much for anymore. your daughter was off with your ex, being doted on by her grandparents, and you were left standing in the middle of your apartment wondering what the hell you were supposed to do with yourself. the thought of spending the day bouncing from bar to bar, pretending like you didn’t care that you were alone, felt more pathetic than liberating.

you had just grabbed your coat, keys jangling in hand, when the knock came. not a gentle knock, either — a heavy, impatient pounding. opening the door, you found megumi standing there, arms crossed and wearing a scowl that was all too familiar.

“you need to come help my dad,” he said bluntly.

you blinked. “uh, what?”

“the turkey,” he clarified, rolling his eyes like you should’ve already known. “he’s gonna burn it. again.”

you almost said no. you really did. it wasn’t your problem if toji fushiguro couldn’t figure out how to roast a turkey. but then megumi fixed you with a look — stubborn, determined, his little fists clenching at his sides — and you saw your daughter in him. that same unyielding resolve she’d inherited from you.

before you could stop yourself, you sighed and grabbed your shoes.

“fine,” you muttered. “but only because i don’t wanna smell burnt turkey through the walls for the next week.”

megumi led the way, not bothering to wait for you to catch up, and by the time you stepped into toji’s apartment, the chaos was already underway. toji was in the kitchen, glaring at the bird like it had personally insulted him, sleeves rolled up and hair a mess. megumi darted off to the living room, immediately digging through his toys, leaving you standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“you planning to just stand there, or are you gonna help?” toji barked without looking up.

“oh, i’m sorry,” you shot back, shrugging off your coat and stepping into the kitchen. “i didn’t realize i was signing up to save thanksgiving.”

“yeah, yeah, just don’t touch the knives,” he grumbled, handing you a bowl of stuffing. “last thing i need is you slicing a finger off.”

“cute,” you deadpanned, elbowing him out of the way to check the turkey. “you’re supposed to baste it, you know. not drown it in oil.”

toji huffed but stepped aside, muttering something under his breath about know-it-alls. for the next hour, the two of you worked in tandem — him grumbling every time you corrected him, you rolling your eyes every time he ignored your advice only to realize you were right. it was messy and loud, and megumi kept wandering into the kitchen to ask if he could “decorate the turkey” with his action figures.

“no,” you and toji said in unison, making megumi pout and stomp back to his toys.

you hated to admit it, but it felt...nice. domestic, even. like the kind of thanksgiving you used to dream about before everything fell apart.

when the turkey was finally done, golden and steaming, toji leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a towel. “well, guess that’s not a total disaster,” he said, nodding toward the bird.

“you’re welcome,” you replied, smirking.

toji glanced at you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. then, in a tone that was almost shy — almost — he added, “you, uh...you should stay. for dinner, i mean. since you helped.”

you hesitated, the instinct to say no already on your tongue. but then megumi poked his head around the corner, grinning as he asked if it was time to eat yet, and something in your chest softened.

“yeah,” you said, surprising even yourself. “yeah, i guess i could stay.”

for once, you didn’t worry about whether it was selfish to want this — to sit at a table with someone else’s kid, someone else’s dad, and pretend, just for a little while, that it was your own family.

you barely had time to put your keys down when your daughter bolted out the door, still wearing her ballet costume — tutu, tights, and all.

“where are you going?” you called after her, already regretting the question as you hurried to follow.

by the time you reached the hallway, she was standing in front of megumi, who looked as though he had just rolled out of bed. his hair stuck up in every direction, and he was clutching a carton of milk he’d clearly just retrieved from the grocery bag hanging outside his door. the poor kid froze like a deer caught in headlights as your daughter crossed her arms and declared, “you’re the same height as me. you have to practice with me.”

megumi blinked at her, then at you, then back at her. “what?”

“pirouettes,” she said matter-of-factly, pointing to her little satin shoes. “you just have to stand there and twirl, like this.” she spun in place, her tutu flaring out as she executed a clumsy turn.

“uh...” megumi glanced at the milk in his hand, clearly weighing his options. then, with a defeated grumble that sounded eerily like his dad, he said, “fine. but only for five minutes.”

you were about to step in, to scold her for bothering someone she didn’t know, but then megumi set the milk down and mimicked her spin, his movements stiff and awkward but surprisingly cooperative. the sight of the two of them twirling in the hallway — her with all the determination of a drill sergeant, him with the resigned patience of a kid who had long since accepted the absurdity of his life — made you pause.

“no, no, your arm’s supposed to go here,” she corrected, pulling his hand up into what you assumed was a ballet pose. megumi didn’t protest, just followed her instructions with a tiny scowl on his face.

you leaned against the doorframe, half-amused, half-stunned. the hallway was hardly the place for this — the flickering overhead light and slightly dingy carpet hardly screamed “dance studio” — but neither of them seemed to care. they were kids, after all. they didn’t need permission or a proper setting to make something fun out of nothing.

toji’s door creaked open, and he stepped out, rubbing the back of his neck. his eyes landed on the two kids, and his brows shot up. “what the hell’s goin’ on here?”

you smirked. “your kid’s being recruited as a dance partner.”

toji snorted, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe. “looks like he’s takin’ it seriously.”

“he’s a good sport,” you admitted, watching as your daughter adjusted megumi’s stance like a tiny ballet instructor.

“yeah, well, don’t let him hear you say that. he’s already got enough of an attitude,” toji muttered, though there was a trace of pride in his voice.

you laughed softly, watching as the two kids twirled down the hallway like it was the most natural thing in the world. for a moment, you felt that familiar pang in your chest — the one that came from watching your daughter interact with someone so freely, so innocently. it reminded you of something you’d almost forgotten: kids didn’t care about the social rules adults imposed on them. they didn’t worry about boundaries or appearances. they just...were.

and maybe, just maybe, you could learn something from that.

you had rules. hard, fast rules you swore by, especially when it came to relationships. your daughter was your priority, and anything — or anyone — that complicated the fragile arrangement of custody and weekend visits was a hard no.

you’d learned that the hard way.

it was supposed to be just another date. nothing serious, nothing special. just someone you’d met through a friend of a friend, someone who seemed decent enough at first glance.

but “decent enough” didn’t cut it when he started poking around your home like it was his, asking invasive questions about your parenting and making himself far too comfortable in the space you shared with your daughter.

the final straw came when your girl, barely out of her toddler years, tugged on your sleeve and whispered, “i don’t like him.”

you snapped. you didn’t care about niceties or keeping things civil. your voice was sharp and unrelenting as you told him to leave, not sparing a second thought for his protests or excuses. when he didn’t take the hint, standing there like he had every right to argue with you in your own home, the commotion must have reached the hallway because toji showed up.

he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his eyes hard and unwavering. “you heard her,” he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that could slice through steel. “get the hell out.”

the man hesitated, glancing between you and toji, before finally storming out with a string of muttered curses. the door slammed behind him, and you exhaled, your shoulders sagging under the weight of your anger.

toji didn’t say anything, just gave you a curt nod before disappearing back into his apartment. but his presence lingered, a silent reminder that someone else got it. someone else understood that when it came to your kids, there were no compromises. if they didn’t like someone, that was the end of it. no debate, no second chances.

because the truth was, kids had a steadfast sense of people. they could see what adults often ignored or rationalized away. and if your little girl didn’t like someone, then that was reason enough to show them the door.

it wasn’t about being strict or overprotective. it was about being selfless in the way only a parent could be — putting your child’s comfort and safety above your own needs, no matter how lonely or frustrating it could be.

and as much as you hated that night, as much as it left you raw and questioning your own choices, it also reaffirmed something you already knew: your girl came first. always.

toji didn’t see the point of relationships. not when all he needed was a night of sex and no strings attached. a quick call, a casual meet-up, and back to their place or the backseat of his car — it was simple, clean, and didn’t involve his son.

rules were rules. no bringing anyone home, ever. it wasn’t just about protecting megumi’s innocence; it was about maintaining some semblance of order in the chaos of their lives.

megumi wasn’t clueless, though. he’d catch on when his dad had a “special lady friend,” his young mind putting two and two together. but he never lingered on it — he was too preoccupied with his toys or his own little world to ask questions. still, toji made it a point to keep those two parts of his life separate. or at least, he tried to.

then there was that night. the one he wished he could erase entirely.

it started with a hookup — someone he barely knew, someone who got a flat tire on the way to meet him. she called him in a panic, and toji, feeling half-responsible, told her to wait downstairs while he scrounged up some cash to help her out. it was supposed to be quick, a simple transaction before he sent her on her way.

but when he opened his apartment door to check on megumi, there she was, standing in the hallway, looking between him and his son like she’d just uncovered some dirty secret.

“seriously?” she snapped, her voice rising. “you have a kid, and you didn’t tell me? what kinda man are you?”

toji froze, his jaw tightening. “it’s not like that,” he started, already regretting everything about this situation. “he’s my son, yeah, but —”

“oh my god,” she interrupted, her voice dripping with something he couldn’t quite place.

“you’re a single dad? that’s so...hot. like, wow, you’re doing all this on your own? it’s inspiring.”

toji stared at her, horrified. was this some kind of joke? how the hell did she jump from being pissed to romanticizing his life? did she think being a single parent was some kind of aesthetic?

before he could say anything, you appeared from your apartment, drawn out by the commotion. one look at the scene and you put the pieces together — the woman’s flirtatious tone, toji’s visible irritation, megumi standing awkwardly behind his dad.

“are you serious right now?” you said, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “do you even hear yourself? you don’t just barge into someone’s home and start fantasizing about their struggles like it’s some rom-com plot.”

the woman blinked, clearly taken aback, but you didn’t stop. “being a single parent isn’t some cute little quirk, okay? it’s hard work. it’s messy and exhausting, and you don’t get to stand there and act like it’s sexy or whatever weird thing you’re doing right now. you’re embarrassing yourself.”

toji folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you with something close to amusement. “yeah,” he added, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “what she said.”

the woman huffed, muttered something about how she “didn’t mean it like that,” and stormed off, leaving behind a cloud of awkward silence.

you turned to toji, your arms crossed. “seriously, fushiguro? what the hell was that?”

“don’t look at me,” he grunted. “i told her to wait downstairs. didn’t think she’d take it as an invitation to meet my kid.”

“well, maybe next time, screen your hookups better,” you shot back before glancing at megumi. “you okay, honey?”

megumi shrugged, holding his pillow like it was a shield. “she was weird.”

toji sighed, running a hand through his hair. “tell me about it.”

as you headed back to your apartment, you muttered loud enough for him to hear, “unbelievable.”

toji couldn’t argue with that.

pta meetings were never on your radar — your ex had made sure of that. "you don’t need to stress about these things," he’d said, his tone dismissive, as if your role as a parent didn’t extend to showing up for your own kid. but the moment he insisted one too many times, you knew it was less about easing your workload and more about him basking in the spotlight of being the ever-dedicated single dad.

you weren’t having it anymore.

so, there you were, shuffling awkwardly through the school halls, feeling like a stranger in your own child’s life. asking for directions to the third-grade pta made you feel ridiculous, but not nearly as much as the sight that greeted you when you finally found the room.

your daughter sat next to her father, the picture of poise and politeness. her hands folded neatly in her lap, her back straight, nodding along as if she’d been practicing for a commercial. for a moment, you wondered if you’d walked into the wrong classroom.

but then her eyes flicked to the door, and the facade crumbled. she leaped out of her chair, her tiny legs carrying her toward you as she yelled, “mama!” loud enough to turn heads. the force of her hug nearly knocked the wind out of you, but you didn’t care. this — her joy, her excitement — was worth every awkward second of wandering the school halls.

your ex, however, looked less than thrilled. his jaw tightened, his smile turned brittle, and you swore his ears went red.

“you’re not supposed to be here,” he hissed, his voice low but venomous. “we agreed —”

“you decided,” you cut him off, your voice calm but firm. “i have just as much right to be here as you do.”

your daughter, oblivious to the tension, looked up at both of you with wide, curious eyes. “but daddy said you don’t like school stuff,” she said, her little brow furrowed. “is that true?”

you knelt down, brushing a stray hair from her face. “of course not, sweetheart. i love being here for you. don’t ever think otherwise, okay?”

her face lit up again, but the moment was short-lived. your ex scoffed, muttering something under his breath about boundaries and making a scene. you felt the familiar heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck, the weight of the other parents’ stares pressing down on you.

and then, as if on cue, toji strolled in with megumi trailing behind him, looking as uninterested as ever.

toji’s eyes scanned the room, landing on the little drama unfolding between you and your ex. a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “looks like i’m not the only one dreading this circus,” he drawled, loud enough for everyone to hear.

megumi, clutching a slightly crumpled report card, muttered, “dad, can we just sit down?”

toji ignored him, stepping closer to where you were standing. “need backup?” he asked, his tone teasing but with a glint of seriousness in his eyes.

your ex bristled, standing a little straighter. “this isn’t any of your business.”

“maybe not,” toji said, crossing his arms, “but if you’re gonna start a scene in front of your kid, might as well make it entertaining for the rest of us.”

you bit back a laugh, your shoulders relaxing for the first time since you’d walked into the room. your ex muttered something incoherent before storming back to his seat, clearly deciding he’d rather sulk than argue with toji.

“thanks,” you said quietly, glancing at him.

“don’t mention it,” he replied, waving a hand. “besides, i could use the distraction. these meetings are the worst.”

megumi sighed dramatically, dragging his dad toward the nearest empty seats. your daughter tugged on your hand, pulling you toward her spot. “sit next to me, mommy!” she insisted, her voice brimming with excitement.

and just like that, the weight of embarrassment lifted. maybe the pta wasn’t so dreadful after all.

stationery shopping ranked high on toji’s list of things he’d rather not do. it wasn’t just the hassle of navigating cramped aisles and overly enthusiastic sales clerks — it was the quiet longing he saw in megumi’s eyes. his kid had always been practical, never asking for much. a pencil and eraser were all he ever said he needed.

but toji wasn’t blind. he noticed the way megumi’s gaze lingered on superhero-themed pouches, colorful erasers, or fancy gel pens that clicked in three different colors.

today, however, megumi wasn’t eyeing superheroes. he stood rooted in front of the store’s most ridiculously pink setup — hello kitty galore. pink pouches, glittery pens, stickers with cartoon bows and sparkles. “what’re ya staring at, brat?” toji grumbled, leaning against the cart.

“nothing,” megumi mumbled, looking down at his sneakers.

toji raised a brow. “yeah, sure. ‘nothing’ has you glued there like a statue.”

“it’s for...her,” megumi muttered, barely loud enough to hear.

“her?” for a second, toji wondered if his kid had cooked up another imaginary friend. but then it clicked. “her” wasn’t imaginary — it was your daughter. ever since she had dragged megumi into practicing her ballet routine in the hallway, she’d been on his radar. toji had caught him talking about her in passing, dropping little comments about her sparkly shoes or how good she was at balancing on her toes.

toji scratched the back of his head, sighing. “alright, pick something out.”

megumi’s head snapped up, his eyes wide. “really?”

“yeah, really. just don’t make me regret it.”

a few minutes later, toji was standing in line with a glittery-pen set, the kind of thing he never thought he’d buy in his lifetime. at checkout, he stared at the receipt longer than necessary, grumbling about how overpriced stationery had gotten. still, he couldn’t shake the thought of megumi’s sheepish little smile when he picked out the pen set.

later that day, toji knocked on your door, the pen set in hand. when you opened it, he held the package out awkwardly. “here,” he said gruffly. “megs wanted to give this to your girl.”

you blinked in surprise, looking between him and the gift. “oh, uh, thank you. that’s sweet of him.”

“yeah, well, don’t make a big deal out of it,” he muttered, already turning to leave.

“wait.” you disappeared into the apartment for a moment before coming back with a box in hand. “give this to megumi. my daughter won it in a raffle at school and insisted it was for him.”

toji frowned, taking the box. when he opened it, his jaw nearly dropped. inside was a limited-edition action figure of megumi’s favorite superhero, still in its pristine packaging. “seriously?” he asked, glancing up at you.

you shrugged, smiling. “she said he deserves it for helping her with ballet.”

when toji handed the box to megumi later, the boy’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “this is for me?” he asked, his voice almost disbelieving.

“yep,” toji said, leaning against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at his lips. “from her.”

megumi cradled the box like it was made of glass, his face lighting up in a way toji hadn’t seen in a while. “she’s...cool,” he mumbled, his ears turning red.

toji snorted, ruffling his son’s hair. “yeah, kid. guess she is.”

it started with the clatter of plastic pots and pans echoing in the hallway. toji peeked out, ready to bark at whoever was making the ruckus, only to see your kid — a whirlwind in a frilly dress — dragging megumi out of the apartment by his wrist. toji frowned, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “what’s she up to now?” he muttered to himself.

your girl had plopped her miniature kitchen set right in the middle of the hallway, setting it up with an authority that would make a professional chef jealous. “okay, megumi,” she declared, hands on her hips. “we’re playing house-house.”

megumi shuffled awkwardly, glancing at the scattered pink cookware. “uh...i don’t know how to play,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

your daughter waved off his hesitation with a dramatic flourish. “it’s easy! you’re the dad, and i’m the mom, and we make dinner together.”

toji suppressed a snort. the dad, huh? poor kid.

but then megumi, shifting uncomfortably, mumbled, “what’s...a dad supposed to do?”

your daughter blinked at him, pausing her bustling activity. “you don’t know?”

he shook his head, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“well,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact, “my dad doesn’t play house-house much. but it’s okay! we’ll just figure it out.”

toji’s chest tightened at her words, his grip on the doorframe unconsciously tightening. he didn’t think a kid’s game could hit so close to home, but there it was. she said it so simply, so innocently, like it was a fact of life. and megumi just nodded, kneeling down next to her and fumbling with a tiny plastic frying pan, like he was trying to make sense of a concept he couldn’t quite grasp.

when he glanced across the hall, he saw you standing there. you weren’t smiling. the look in your eyes was a mirror of his own — quiet, pained recognition. you knew. how could you not? this was your life too, wasn’t it? this strange, fragmented version of what a “home” was supposed to be.

and for once, toji didn’t have a quip or a grumble. he just stood there, watching his kid try to figure out what “playing house” meant, wondering if maybe the real problem wasn’t the game at all.

there were days when the weight of work pressed so heavily on your shoulders, you didn’t know if you’d make it to bedtime without breaking. days when you stared at your laptop screen, the relentless deadlines pounding in your head, and wondered if anyone cared enough to ask how you were holding up.

your daughter? what could you even tell an eight-year-old? that mamma’s work feels like it’s swallowing her whole? your ex? let’s not kid anyone — he didn’t give a damn.

so when you heard the faint knock on your door, you sighed, ready to dismiss whatever delivery or inconvenience had shown up at your doorstep. but it wasn’t a courier. it was megumi, standing there awkwardly, holding a casserole dish that looked far too heavy for him.

“uh, hi,” he mumbled, not meeting your eyes. “my dad said you should eat this. and, um...are you okay?”

you blinked, caught completely off guard. “i — yeah, i’m fine. why are you —”

“dad said you looked ‘off.’” he shifted his weight, staring at the floor like the words were a script he was forced to read. “so he made food. and, uh...he said you should eat it. or something.”

you stared at the casserole, the steam fogging up the glass lid, before your gaze moved back to megumi. “your dad sent you?”

megumi nodded, still not looking up. “yeah. but also...uh, you shouldn’t be sad. ’cause my teacher says work is like a big test. and you can’t cry during tests.”

you let out a soft laugh despite yourself. “is that so?”

“yeah,” he said, more confidently now. “and also...you should have cookies after tests. or...or, like, cake. something sweet.”

you crouched down so you were eye level with him, your exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “thank you, megumi. you’re very thoughtful.”

he shrugged, his ears turning red. “it’s just what people do, right?”

“you’re absolutely right,” you said, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “tell your dad thank you for the food, okay?”

megumi nodded, suddenly eager to escape, and darted back toward his apartment. as you stood, watching him go, you caught a glimpse of toji leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, pretending like he wasn’t paying attention. your eyes met, and he gave a half-smirk, a silent acknowledgment that, yeah, he sent his kid over to do the emotional heavy lifting.

you didn’t know whether to laugh or roll your eyes, but as you brought the casserole inside and inhaled the warm, comforting aroma, you realized it didn’t matter. the gesture had worked.

and for the first time that day, you felt a little less alone.

toji leaned against the garbage chute, the crumpled bag dangling from his grip like the weight of his entire day had been stuffed inside it. his head was pounding, his nerves frayed, and the sheer mental load of keeping everything together made his chest feel tight.

just one drink, he thought. one drink to take the edge off.

but the thought of megumi catching even a whiff of whiskey on his breath, of being the kind of dad who needed an escape like that, stopped him cold.

that’s when you showed up, bag in hand, hair disheveled from a long day. you gave him a quick glance, your usual mixture of mild irritation and casual acknowledgment, before tossing your garbage into the chute.

“you look like hell,” you said bluntly, folding your arms.

“gee, thanks,” toji shot back, voice dripping with sarcasm. “needed that.”

you didn’t flinch. instead, you just leaned against the wall beside him, watching as he seemed to wrestle with something internally. you weren’t dumb — you could tell when someone was running on fumes.

“you ever feel like you’re drowning?” he asked suddenly, surprising even himself with the admission.

you blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. “constantly,” you replied, your tone softer than usual. “but i’m guessing you mean with the whole...single parent thing.”

toji chuckled dryly, shaking his head. “ding, ding. i don’t know how you do it. you make it look...effortless.”

“effortless?” you raised an eyebrow, almost laughing at the absurdity. “you think i have it together? newsflash, toji: my kid’s with me two days a week. that’s not parenting perfection. that’s a weekend babysitting gig.”

“still,” he muttered. “you make those two days count. i see it. i hear it.”

you exhaled, running a hand through your hair. “look, i don’t have all the answers. but what i’ve learned? you can’t do it all. not perfectly. no one can. and pretending you can is just setting yourself up to fail. so...cut yourself some slack. you’re not screwing up as bad as you think.”

he stared at you for a moment, the words sinking in like drops of water on parched earth. it wasn’t a grand revelation, but coming from you — iron mom of the year — it hit different.

“you really believe that?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

you shrugged. “not always. but it’s what i tell myself when i feel like i’m about to lose it. sometimes it helps. sometimes it doesn’t. but it’s better than drinking yourself stupid.”

toji’s eyes flicked to you, his brow furrowing. “how’d you —”

“please,” you cut him off. “you think i don’t know that look? seen it in the mirror too many times.”

he huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “you’re something else, you know that?”

“so are you,” you countered, nudging his arm lightly. “whether you believe it or not. and whether you’ll admit it or not.”

he didn’t respond, just stood there for a moment, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. and as you turned to head back to your apartment, he found himself standing a little taller, the crushing weight of the day feeling just a little lighter.he still wouldn’t call it respect. but maybe, just maybe, he didn’t hate you as much as he thought.

your ex’s text had felt like a sucker punch, the kind that knocked the wind right out of you. you’d stared at the message for far too long, rereading his smug little declaration: “taking her on a trip she’ll never forget. don’t worry about the details.”

no invite for you, no mention of her asking for you — just a cruel reminder that he still had ways to hurt you. and for her birthday, of all things.

you spent the next two weeks in a fog. the silence in your apartment was deafening without her, no shrieks of laughter, no tiny footsteps running to show you her latest masterpiece. it felt like someone had pressed pause on your life, leaving you stuck in this unbearable limbo. every day you’d get up, go to work, and come home to the same aching emptiness. you even avoided the hallway, unwilling to face anyone — not even toji and megumi.

but then, one evening, as you were sorting through yet another pile of takeout containers, you heard a soft knock on your door. when you opened it, there stood megumi, clutching a piece of paper in his small hands. he shoved it toward you without a word, his face unreadable, before bolting back down the hall.

you closed the door, confused, and unfolded the note. it was written in uneven, colorful crayon strokes, the kind only a kid could produce:

dear y/n, pls come to my bithday party. we having cake and maybe pizza dad said okay i want you to come :) from megumi

your breath caught in your throat, and before you knew it, hot tears were streaming down your face. it was the kind of pure, innocent gesture that knocked down every wall you’d tried to build over the past two weeks. megumi didn’t know the weight of what he’d just done — how he’d given you a reason to get out of bed, to care about something again.

you clutched the note to your chest, letting out a shaky laugh through your tears. for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of warmth. maybe you couldn’t be there for your own daughter’s birthday this year, but for megumi? you’d show up.

and maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t feel so alone.

toji swore he hadn’t stopped pacing since he woke up that morning.

megumi’s birthday.

the kid had been talking about it for weeks, dropping subtle (and not-so-subtle) hints about what he wanted. toji had done his best — got the decorations, ordered the cake, and even splurged on superhero-themed plates and napkins. but standing in the middle of his living room, now transformed into a battlefield of action figure balloons and capes, he couldn’t help but feel like a superhero himself — one on the verge of a breakdown.

megumi had insisted on handling the invites, which in hindsight might’ve been a mistake. the first arrivals were fine enough: yuuji and nobara, two of megumi’s classmates. yuuji was all boundless energy and chaos, while nobara strutted in like she was already running the place. “where’s the cake?” she demanded, hands on her hips. toji grunted and pointed toward the kitchen.

then came the wild card. the bane of his existence.

“tooojjjji!” gojo’s voice echoed through the apartment, loud and grating as ever. “heard there’s a party! didn’t wanna miss out.” he waltzed in, sunglasses perched on his stupidly perfect nose, a massive gift bag in hand that screamed overcompensating. toji pinched the bridge of his nose. why me?

and then, you. you stepped in, looking a little hesitant, holding a neatly wrapped present in one hand. megumi practically lit up when he saw you, rushing over to tug you inside. “you came!” he exclaimed, grinning ear to ear. toji froze for a moment, then scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“didn’t think you’d actually show,” he muttered, avoiding your eyes.

“megumi invited me,” you said simply, smiling down at the boy. “couldn’t say no to the birthday boy, now could i?”

toji grunted in response, but deep down, he was relieved. somehow, having you there made the chaos of the day feel a little more manageable.

the party was... chaotic, to say the least. yuuji inhaled pizza like it was a sport and promptly threw up in the kitchen sink, much to nobara’s disgust. “ewwwww, you’re so groooossss!” she shrieked, dodging as yuuji stumbled past her. toji was already on the phone with yuuji’s older brother, sukuna, who arrived not long after, looking pissed as hell.

“i told him not to eat like a damn vacuum,” sukuna growled, hauling yuuji out the door.

megumi, meanwhile, didn’t seem fazed by any of it. he was too busy showing off his new action figures to your daughter, who somehow managed to make it to the party just a few hours before her flight. you and toji exchanged a glance — a silent acknowledgment that, despite the chaos, the kids were happy.

and somehow, so were you.

with your daughter off on her dad's two-and-a-half-week escapade, you found yourself with something rare and unsettling: free time. the emptiness of your apartment felt heavier without her laughter filling the corners, so you did what any sane, lonely adult would do — you forced yourself to go out. and somehow, somehow, you ended up on a date with nanami kento.

god, he was perfect. the kind of perfect that made your chest ache. polite, well-mannered, and respectful, with a quiet intensity that felt... safe. he opened doors, listened like you were the only person in the world, and didn’t even bat an eye when you cried mid-dessert about how surreal it felt to be treated so kindly. nanami kento was a unicorn in human form. you left the date with a full heart and a nervous little hope tucked away in the corner of your mind.

but with that came distance. maybe you didn’t mean to pull back from the chaotic warmth of your hallway interactions with megumi and toji, but it happened all the same. when megumi called out a soft “hi” as you passed him by the mailboxes, you offered a quick smile but kept walking. the sink had been dripping for days, but instead of knocking on toji’s door, you’d booked a plumber. you weren’t doing anything wrong, you told yourself — they were just neighbors. neighbors.

not friends. not anything more than the people across the hall. right?

toji, though, noticed. the absence of your knock, the way megumi seemed a little more sullen, staring at the hall like he was waiting for someone. “you think she’s mad at us?” megumi asked one evening, poking at his rice.

toji’s response was a noncommittal grunt, but the truth was, he didn’t know. for some stupid reason, the distance stung. not that he’d ever admit it. not that he had any right to care.

you were just neighbors, after all.

when your girl came bounding through the door, her face glowing from the trip, the first thing she asked wasn’t about you or the gifts she’d brought back. no, it was, “how’s gumi? how’s uncle toji?”

the question hit harder than it should’ve. you realized with a pang of guilt how much distance you’d put between yourself and the fushiguros. brushing it off with a casual, “they’re fine,” didn’t sit well either. so, when your daughter insisted on running over to their apartment to see megumi, you didn’t stop her.

watching her skip down the hall, you thought it’d all smooth over naturally. kids were resilient like that, weren’t they? but then she came back. and she was crying.

between her sobs and hiccups, you managed to piece together the story. megumi, sweet, awkward megumi, had exploded in a torrent of childish frustration. how your daughter hadn’t been around. how you hadn’t been around. how he thought you both didn’t care anymore.

you felt your heart shatter as your girl bawled into your arms, her small hands clutching at your shirt. “why’s he mad at me, mama? i didn’t do anything!”

meanwhile, across the hall, megumi was in tears too, angrily wiping at his face as he sat cross-legged on the couch. “i hate her!” he shouted, voice wobbling. “she didn’t even say hi! she just left like everyone does!”

toji sat there, looking at his son, the beer he’d been nursing now warm and forgotten. the kid’s words were like a punch to the gut. he realized, with sinking clarity, that megumi wasn’t just upset with your daughter. the boy was lashing out because he felt abandoned.

when the knock came at the door, it was no surprise. you stood there, your girl clutching your hand, both of you looking just as frazzled as toji and megumi.

“we need to talk,” you said.

“yeah,” toji muttered, stepping aside to let you in.

the conversation wasn’t easy, with both kids sniffling, glaring at each other, and clutching onto their respective parents like lifelines. but as you and toji sat there, stumbling through apologies and promises to do better, you realized how much you’d hurt them by pulling away.

“friends don’t do this,” your girl said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

“yeah,” megumi added, glaring at his lap. “friends don’t just leave.”

and in that moment, you and toji exchanged a look. it was one of understanding, of shared guilt and resolution. you weren’t just neighbors anymore, were you? whether you liked it or not, you’d become something more — something messier, but ultimately worth fighting for.

the fight left behind a new set of rules — some spoken, others understood. your daughter would spend one hour with megumi every weekend, no negotiations. an additional hour was set aside for assisted ballet practice, with megumi reluctantly twirling around like an uncoordinated giraffe under her direction. and then, as if her creative pursuits weren’t already ambitious, she insisted on an hour of practicing makeup.

on a very, very unwilling toji.

the first time she smeared blush across his cheekbones, a bright pink mess, toji grumbled the entire time. “this is ridiculous. i look like a clown.”

“no, you don’t,” your girl countered with all the confidence in the world. “you look beauuuutiful.”

megumi snickered behind her, holding up a hand mirror so his dad could see the finished product. toji groaned, but the corners of his mouth betrayed him with the faintest twitch of amusement.

you leaned against the doorway, watching the scene unfold. the shared giggles, the clumsy but earnest teamwork — it was loud, chaotic, and beautiful in its own way. this was right. this was what you hadn’t even realized you were missing.

and kento? well, the date you thought could be something turned into a friendship you didn’t know you needed. he became a quiet presence, someone who checked in, who made you laugh when work got overwhelming, and who offered sage advice about life when you needed it most.

��you’re doing great,” he told you once over coffee, his calm reassurance soothing the doubts that often crept in.

between the budding chaos in your hallway ballet classes, the makeup artistry sessions that somehow always ended with toji pouting in pink lipstick, and the quiet stability kento offered, you realized that life had settled into something messy, imperfect, but undeniably nice.

maybe it wasn’t what you’d planned. maybe it wasn’t ideal. but as your daughter twirled around the room, megumi trailing after her with hesitant steps, and toji scowled half-heartedly at his reflection, you couldn’t imagine wanting anything else.

exam season brought chaos, but not the kind you'd expected. with your daughter spending extra time at her dad's house to focus on studying, the silence in your apartment felt foreign. that is, until megumi started showing up more often, knocking on your door with his usual grumbles.

"why isn't the test about superheroes or football?" he'd complain, dragging his workbook into your living room as though it carried the weight of the world.

you’d chuckle softly, pulling up a chair next to him. “if multiplication was about superheroes, what would the question even look like?”

megumi furrowed his brow, considering. “uh... like, if spider-man saved five people every day for a week, how many people would he save?”

you smiled, leaning in. “exactly. now, how would you solve that?”

somehow, tailoring the lessons to his interests worked wonders. before long, megumi wasn’t just tolerating study time — he was coming over more and more, plopping onto your couch like he lived there.

toji, on the other hand, didn’t know what to make of it. sure, he appreciated that you were helping the kid, but every time he walked past your door and heard megumi's laughter ringing out, he felt... off.

he chalked it up to jealousy at first. not the bitter kind, but the kind that made him wonder why megumi could so easily open up to you, share his frustrations and laugh like the world wasn’t on his tiny shoulders.

then there was the other feeling, the one he buried as quickly as it surfaced. it was... comfort. relief, even. seeing megumi so at ease with you, so happy, made something in his chest tighten.

it didn’t help that when megumi came home, he’d mention you in passing, the smallest smile tugging at his lips. “she said i’d ace the test if i think about it like superheroes. she’s kinda cool.”

toji would grunt, pretending not to care. “yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable over there.”

but the truth was, toji couldn’t decide if he envied you for being able to connect with his son so easily or if he was just... glad. glad that someone like you existed in megumi’s world.

he wouldn’t admit it, though. not even to himself. instead, he shut the feelings down, brushing them off like they were nothing. because, after all, you were just the neighbor who helped out when needed.

right?

toji had every intention of marching into your apartment to retrieve megumi with a grumble about bedtime. the kid was always strict about his sleep schedule — how the hell had he fallen asleep at your place?

but when he stepped inside, the sight stopped him dead in his tracks.

there you were, sprawled on the couch with megumi curled up next to you, both of you out cold. the TV flickered softly, playing megumi’s favorite superhero show. the coffee table was a chaotic mess of open textbooks, scattered pencils, and hastily scribbled notes.

toji stood there for a moment, unsure what to do with the weird tug in his chest. the scene was... domestic.

painfully so.

megumi’s head was resting on your shoulder, your hand loosely draped over his back like you’d done this a thousand times before. the way you were both nestled together was too natural for something that should’ve felt foreign. it made something warm and uncomfortable rise in toji’s chest, a feeling he wasn’t ready to name.

he took a step closer, leaning against the doorframe. his frown deepened, not out of anger but out of frustration — mostly at himself.

this wasn’t anything, right? this was just you being nice to his kid. helping him out with schoolwork and keeping him company because you were a good person.

but then why did his heart feel like it was trying to beat its way out of his chest? why did seeing you with megumi like that make his throat tighten?

toji ran a hand through his hair, sighing quietly.

“dammit,” he muttered under his breath.

he knew he should’ve woken the both of you up, taken megumi home, and gone about his night like this didn’t mean anything. but instead, he found himself lingering, watching the two of you for a moment longer.

did neighbors really do this? take care of someone else’s kid like they were their own?

and did neighbors treat each other with such quiet, subtle affection? the kind that slipped into actions rather than words — the casseroles when someone was too tired to cook, the soft smiles exchanged in passing, the way you’d text him about the latest sale on megumi’s favorite snacks?

toji shook his head, trying to shove the thought away. god forbid, he might actually like you.

it was supposed to be a normal monday morning. drop your girl off at her ballet studio, exchange a quick goodbye, and then head to work like it wasn’t eating you alive that she was growing up too fast.

but then toji came out, coffee in one hand and his other scratching the back of his neck as he leaned against the doorframe, clearly still waking up. “hey, kid,” he called to your daughter, motioning her over with a lazy wave.

what happened next made you freeze mid-turn, your keys jangling awkwardly in your hand.

toji knelt to her level, his gruff voice taking on an edge of sincerity. “listen up, girlie. when you’re up there, you give ‘em hell, alright? don’t let anyone tell you you’re not good enough. and don’t worry about messin’ up — just keep goin’ like it never happened.”

your daughter nodded with wide eyes, hanging on to every word, her little face lit with admiration.

and god, he was trying so hard to keep it clean. but every so often, a “shit” or “hell yeah” would slip out, sending her into a fit of giggles. she tried so hard to be serious, biting her lip to stifle her laughter, but the sheer ridiculousness of him attempting to be PG while still being him was too much for a nine-year-old.

megumi, standing nearby with his arms crossed, was clearly torn. his little scowl was stuck somewhere between annoyance at your daughter for monopolizing his dad’s attention and longing to be spoken to like that himself.

and your daughter? she latched onto toji like he was some kind of life coach, her arms around his neck, thanking him in that sweet, sing-song voice she always used when she was truly happy.

your fingers tightened around your keys as your chest did a stupid thing.

because here was toji, your grumpy neighbor who could barely keep it together when megumi so much as sneezed during homework time, and yet here he was giving your girl the kind of pep talk that should’ve come from her own dad.

and worse? she listened. eagerly.

you fidgeted with your keys like that’d distract you from the warmth creeping into your chest, from the realization that maybe, just maybe, this tough, foul-mouthed, perpetually tired man wasn’t just good with kids. he was good for you. god forbid, you might actually be falling for toji fushiguro.

it wasn’t your finest moment — double-booking a work meeting during your daughter's pickup. you were already spiraling into guilt, pacing the room while trying to find a way to make it work, when toji grumbled his way into volunteering.

“don’t make a big deal outta it,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “she’s comin’ over for megumi anyway. might as well save you the trouble.”

you barely had time to thank him before he was out the door, keys jingling in his hand.

but what toji walked into at your ex’s house was far from what he expected.

your ex was already on some power trip, standing in the doorway like he owned the world. the smugness on his face was palpable, and it only got worse when he saw toji, a man who didn’t give a damn about puffed-up egos.

“oh, so you’re her chauffeur now?” your ex sneered, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

toji ignored him at first, his sharp eyes scanning past him to find your babygirl. she was standing behind her dad, clutching her little backpack like it was a shield, her lips trembling as she peeked at toji with wide eyes.

“c’mon, kid,” toji said, his voice softer than you’d expect from a man like him. he extended a hand, but your ex stepped in the way.

“you got a lotta nerve coming here,” your ex spat, crossing his arms. “what, you think playing house makes you her dad?”

toji’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he took a deliberate step forward. “nah,” he said coolly, his voice dripping with menace. “but i’m a helluva lot better at it than you.”

that set your ex off, his voice rising with insults and accusations, not even caring that his daughter was right there, watching the whole thing unfold.

and toji? he had it. his patience snapped like a brittle twig.

“y’know what’s funny?” toji growled, stepping so close your ex had to tilt his head back to meet his glare. “you’re standin’ here flappin’ your gums about bein’ her dad, but you’re too busy bein’ a selfish prick to realize what you’re doin’ to her.”

before your ex could stammer out another insult, toji hoisted your girl into one of his arms like she weighed nothing, shielding her with his broad shoulders as he glared down at your ex.

“don’t bother callin’. she’s got enough on her plate without dealin’ with your crap,” he bit out before turning on his heel and walking away, your girl clutching his shirt like it was her lifeline.

the ride back was quiet, your girl’s sniffles filling the air as toji’s hand rested protectively on the wheel. he didn’t say much — just an occasional grunt to reassure her. when they arrived, he handed her off to you without a word, but the fire in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

and you? you were floored. because for all of toji’s grumbling and rough edges, he wasn’t just stepping up when you couldn’t — he was fighting for your girl like she was his own.

evening walks were supposed to be your moment of calm, a chance to clear your head after a long day. but calm went out the window the moment you saw megumi in the park, his usual quiet confidence missing as a group of older kids cornered him.

his small frame was tense, shoulders squared, but you could see the way his hands trembled as he balled them into fists at his sides. it wasn’t like megumi to let himself be pushed around, but whatever the bullies were saying had struck a nerve.

you didn’t even have to get close to catch the cruel words that slipped out of their mouths.

“no wonder your mom didn’t stick around.”

“bet she took one look at you and ran.”

“you’re just some charity case with a deadbeat dad.”

your heart twisted at the look on megumi’s face — his jaw clenched, eyes glassy with tears he refused to let fall. you weren’t his mom, but you felt the instinctive flare of protectiveness that made you forget every rule of decorum.

marching over, you didn’t bark at the kids or shoo them off like some passerby might. no, you planted yourself right beside megumi, crossing your arms with a look so sharp it could cut steel.

“is there a problem here?” you asked, voice calm but carrying a weight that made the kids shrink back.

they glanced between each other, suddenly unsure. “we were just talking —”

“talking?” you cut in, your tone sharp enough to make them flinch. “sounds to me like you’re all just jealous.”

the kids froze, confusion written all over their faces. “jealous of what?” one of them finally asked, voice cracking slightly.

you placed a hand on megumi’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “jealous that you’ll never have the heart or the strength this kid has. it’s easy to gang up on someone when you’ve got a pack behind you. try standing on your own for once. but then again, maybe that’s asking too much.”

megumi didn’t say a word, but you felt him lean into your touch, his small hand brushing against yours as if testing its solidity.

the bullies sputtered, trying to save face, but one by one, they slunk away, muttering excuses as they disappeared into the distance.

the moment they were gone, megumi’s tough facade crumbled. his shoulders sagged, his head dropping as the tears he had been holding back finally spilled over.

you crouched down to his level, wrapping your arms around him as much as his wiry frame would allow. “it’s okay, sweetheart,” you murmured, brushing a hand through his unruly hair. “you’re okay now.”

and just like that, this tough, guarded nine-year-old melted into your embrace, his small sobs muffled against your shoulder.

you stayed there, holding him as the evening light faded, your heart breaking and swelling all at once. you weren’t his mom, but in that moment, you might as well have been.

toji wasn’t the type to lose his composure, not even when megumi brought home bruised knees or a bad grade. he was a man of steady hands and a guarded heart, but tonight? tonight was different.

he was sitting on the couch, beer in hand, when megumi hesitated in front of him, nervously fiddling with his sleeve. “dad, something happened today,” he mumbled, voice low.

toji raised an eyebrow, setting his drink on the table. “what kind of something?”

and then megumi started talking — about the bullies, about their cruel words, and then about you stepping in. how you stood there, firm and unyielding, pretending to be his mom without hesitation. megumi’s voice cracked when he got to the part where he cried in your arms, and toji swore he felt something shatter in him.

he didn’t know if it was anger, gratitude, or guilt — maybe all three twisting together into a storm that made his chest ache.

"you didn’t say anything stupid to her, did you?" toji asked, his voice rougher than he intended.

megumi shook his head quickly. "no, but... she was really nice. it felt... it felt okay."

toji sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back into the couch. he should’ve been mad. should’ve been upset at megumi for dragging you into their lives like that, but instead, all he could think about was the way his chest tightened at the thought of you.

he needed to see you. not because he owed you, not because of some sense of duty, but because the idea of you stepping up for his kid like that made him feel something he hadn’t let himself feel in years.

he stood abruptly, grabbing his coat. megumi looked up at him, startled. “where are you going?”

toji paused for a moment. “i’ll be back. don’t stay up too late.”

megumi didn’t ask questions, just nodded and watched his dad leave the apartment.

when toji knocked on your door, he didn’t even know what he was going to say. a simple “thank you” didn’t feel like enough, but what else could he offer? the way his hands flexed at his sides and the way his heart pounded in his chest betrayed the calm exterior he was trying to maintain.

when you opened the door, he saw the surprise flash in your eyes. “toji?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost sheepish — a sight you never thought you’d see. “can i come in?”

and that’s when you felt it too — something bubbling between you both, something that had been building for a while, but neither of you had been ready to face. until now.

toji stood there, hands shoved into his jacket pockets, his eyes flicking between you and the floor like the words he was searching for might be scrawled on the ground. he wasn’t the kind of man who talked about his feelings, let alone spilled them out like this.

but he had to say something.

“look,” he started, voice low and gruff, “i’m not great with... this kind of thing.”

you tilted your head, waiting patiently, and that just made it harder for him.

he huffed out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “megumi told me what happened today. how you... stepped in. and, uh —” he paused, almost wincing at how clumsy his words sounded, “ — just... thanks. for being there. for him.”

you smiled softly, opening your mouth to respond, but he held up a hand, cutting you off. “no, wait. i’m not done.”

he shifted, clearly uncomfortable but pushing through it anyway. “it’s not just today. it’s all of it. you’ve done more for that kid than most people ever have. hell, more than i probably have, and i’m his dad.” his laugh was bitter, self-deprecating. “you didn’t have to, but you did. and i —” he faltered, swallowing hard.

you could see it then, all of it — the gratitude, the guilt, the admiration, the something more he was too scared to name. it was all there, plain as day in the way he looked at you.

he sighed, shoulders slumping as if the weight of his words had exhausted him. “just... thanks. for him. for me. for... everything.”

and maybe you didn’t need to say anything. because as clumsy and awkward as his words were, you understood. you really did.

so you stepped forward, just close enough that he couldn’t avoid meeting your eyes anymore, and gave him a small, understanding smile. “you don’t need to thank me, toji. i care about him. about you both.”

something flickered in his expression — relief, maybe, or something even deeper. he nodded, just once, and it felt like enough. no confessions, no big speeches.

just this.

something had changed, though neither of you dared to put it into words. it was in the little things, the quiet moments that made your lives blur together in ways that felt natural, almost inevitable.

like how megumi, who usually kept his friends at arm’s length, started demanding your baby girl's presence at every outing, loudly justifying it as “she’ll get bored otherwise,” when really, he just liked having her around. and during those movie nights, when the kids were too engrossed in the screen, you and toji sat closer than necessary, your fingers brushing as you both reached for the popcorn. neither of you pulled away.

it was in how you became megumi’s loudest cheerleader at his little league matches, rivaling even toji’s booming encouragement. and the way he’d grin at you like you were the reason he hit that home run, his awkwardly mumbled, “did you see that?” enough to warm your heart.

toji wasn’t any different. no matter how busy he was, he showed up to every single one of your baby girl's ballet recitals, clapping so obnoxiously loud at the end that even the other parents gave him side-eyes. and after each recital, he’d crouch down, looking absurdly out of place with his towering frame, to tell her exactly how amazing she was — always with a teasing grin and a “guess megumi’ll have to step it up to keep up with you, huh?”

and then there were the practices. toji, of all people, trying to mimic ballet moves while your daughter giggled at how his long legs never quite landed in the right positions. megumi tried to feign disinterest but ended up joining too, his face as serious as ever as he attempted a plié.

you’d think the makeup thing would’ve been too much for him, but no. those butterfly-drawn cheeks and glittery nails stayed with toji for hours after your daughter left, and he never wiped them off — not until bedtime. megumi pretended not to notice, but you’d catch him smirking when toji forgot to scrub off a particularly bright streak of pink before heading out.

it all felt so... domestic. so easy. yet, neither of you dared to name it.

because neighbors helped neighbors, right? neighbors went to movies together. neighbors cheered for each other’s kids. neighbors shared popcorn and let their walls crumble, piece by piece.

this was okay. just neighbors looking out for each other. nothing more.

...right?

until it wasn’t.

you barely managed to get out of the cab, your heels clicking against the pavement, your dress clinging uncomfortably after hours of fake smiles and firm handshakes. all you could think about was peeling everything off, crashing into bed, and hoping the world would let you sleep in for once.

but then you saw him — toji, leaning against your apartment door, his broad frame tense, his head snapping up the moment he heard your footsteps.

"where the hell were you?" his voice was rough, low, but not angry. it was something else.

you froze, your bag slipping off your shoulder. “what are you doing here?”

his eyes, bloodshot and desperate, locked onto yours, scanning every inch of you like he was checking for injuries. “it’s one a.m., on a thursday,” he said, his voice cracking slightly on the last word. “your lights were off. you weren’t answering your phone.”

it hit you then — he’d been worried. toji fushiguro, the man who grumbled more than he talked, who deflected every feeling with a snarky comment, was pacing the hallway outside your apartment because he thought something had happened to you.

“i had a business meeting,” you said, the exhaustion seeping into your voice. “it ran late.”

but your explanation didn’t seem to matter. he took a step closer, his shoulders sagging in relief but still stiff with whatever storm had been brewing inside him.

“you could’ve told me,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “what if something happened? what if —”

“toji.” your voice was soft, cutting through his spiraling thoughts.

he stopped, his hand dropping to his side as he looked at you, his expression raw and unguarded. he wasn’t just worried. he was terrified. terrified that whatever this strange, fragile thing between you might be, it could slip away in an instant.

and before either of you could think better of it, you closed the distance. your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him into a hug that felt as natural as breathing.

he stiffened at first, his body caught off guard, but then his arms came up around you, pulling you closer with a quiet exhale that sounded like he’d been holding it in all night.

neither of you said a word. you didn’t need to. whatever this was — this thing that had been building between you — it was no longer just neighbors helping neighbors.

it was so much more.

sure, the hug wasn’t something life-changing, but it definitely shifted something, like a tiny crack in the wall that neither of you were ready to knock down completely. there was this... tension now. not bad, not awkward, just there. like some invisible thread pulling you two closer, though never quite crossing a line — both of you too cautious, too unsure, to see what might happen if you did.

and damn those kids. they picked up on it almost immediately, their sharp little eyes catching every glance that lingered too long or every time toji grumbled just a little less around you.

megumi, of course, was the worst of the two, his quiet observations turning into pointed stares and a knowing smirk that made you want to sink into the floor.

“so,” he started one evening as he watched you and toji navigate an unspoken argument over whether you’d be the one to drive the kids to practice. “are you gonna be my dad’s special lady friend now or what?”

you nearly choked on air, and toji’s head snapped around so fast you were sure he’d pull a muscle.

“megumi,” toji growled, the warning clear in his voice.

megumi just shrugged, completely unbothered. “what? i like her. she’s nice. and you’re less grumpy when she’s around. that’s what matters, right?”

toji pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something under his breath about smartass kids. but there was a faint flush on his face, one that made you glance away quickly before your own cheeks betrayed you.

megumi’s logic was simple, blunt, and so very megumi. but it stuck with you more than you wanted to admit. if he was okay with whatever this was between you and his dad, maybe... just maybe, that was enough.

you sat cross-legged on the couch, sorting through some old receipts and papers, while your babygirl sprawled on the floor with her coloring book. the soft scratch of her crayons filled the room, a soothing sound that made the evening feel warm and easy.

“mom?” she asked, her voice cutting through the quiet.

you glanced up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “yeah, baby?”

she didn’t look up from her coloring, her little fingers gripping the green crayon a bit too tightly as she focused on staying inside the lines. “i like him.”

you blinked, confused at first. “like who, sweetie?”

she paused, tilting her head as if the answer was obvious. “uncle jiji.”

the crayon stilled in her hand, and she finally looked up at you, her eyes wide and sincere. your breath hitched, a small wave of surprise washing over you.

“oh?” you tried to keep your tone light, your fingers fiddling with the papers in your lap. “why’s that?”

“he’s funny,” she said matter-of-factly, returning to her coloring. “and he’s nice. he always listens to megumi, even when megumi’s being bossy. and he told me i’m the best ballerina ever — even better than on tv!”

you couldn��t help the small laugh that escaped you. of course, toji had said that.

“he’s just really cool,” she added, as if that sealed the deal.

you set the papers down, your chest tightening in a way that felt both overwhelming and oddly comforting. her words felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders, one you hadn’t even realized you were carrying.

“you really like him, huh?” you asked softly.

she nodded vigorously, her pigtails bouncing with the motion. “yeah. and megumi’s cool too. he always shares his toys, even his superheroes. i think he’s my best friend.”

the corners of your mouth tugged upward as you leaned back against the couch. “well, i’m glad you think so, baby.”

“do you like him?” she asked suddenly, her eyes locking onto yours, filled with that unnerving, sharp perception only kids seemed to have.

your cheeks warmed, and you glanced down at the papers in your lap, pretending to shuffle them aimlessly. “well… yeah, i think he’s nice too.”

she studied you for a moment before shrugging and returning to her coloring. “good. because you’re happy when you talk to him. and he looks at you like daddy never does.”

your breath caught. her words were simple, innocent even, but they struck something deep. you reached out, smoothing a hand over her hair.

“you’re pretty wise for someone not even ten yet, you know that?” you murmured.

she giggled, leaning into your touch. “i know.”

as she went back to her coloring, you leaned back into the couch, letting the relief settle in. maybe she was right. maybe this wasn’t so bad after all. maybe… it was something good. something you both deserved.

toji sat on the worn couch in his living room, staring blankly at the muted television. the house was quiet, save for the occasional shuffle from megumi’s room. it should’ve been peaceful, but instead, it felt like the silence was screaming at him, pressing all those thoughts he’d been trying to ignore right to the surface.

what the hell was this?

he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing a hand down his face as he let out a low sigh. you were in his house so often now that it was hard to tell where the line was anymore. your girl's kid-sized ballet slippers were right by the door next to megumi’s sneakers. a casserole dish you’d returned sat drying on the counter. you had this way of slotting into his life that felt so natural it scared him.

did he want to address it? maybe.

maybe not.

you were busy as hell — a working mom with your own kid to think about. toji wasn’t stupid. he knew what he came with. a nine-year-old son, a messy history, and enough emotional baggage to sink a ship. did he really want to drag you into all that?

but then there were moments, like tonight, when the kids had dragged you into some elaborate roleplay involving superheroes and ballerinas. you’d sat cross-legged on the floor, a makeshift cape tied around your shoulders, pretending to be "supermom," and he hadn’t been able to look away.

when you’d caught him staring, you’d just laughed, “what? do i have pizza sauce on my face or something?”

he’d grunted something noncommittal, shaking his head, but his chest had felt tight in a way he couldn’t explain.

and now, here he was, thinking about it again.

his thoughts were interrupted by the soft click of the front door opening. you peeked your head in, a sheepish smile on your face. “hey. sorry, megs forgot his backpack at my place. figured i’d drop it off before i forgot, too.”

he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets as you walked in, setting the backpack down by the door. you were still in your work clothes, your shoulders looking a little more tired than usual.

“you could’ve waited till tomorrow,” he muttered, his voice low but not unkind.

“it’s no big deal,” you replied, brushing him off.

he watched as you straightened, lingering in the doorway, and something about the way you hesitated made him speak. “you eaten yet?”

you blinked, clearly surprised by the question. “uh, no, actually.”

he motioned toward the kitchen. “there’s leftovers. you want some?”

your smile softened as you stepped closer. “sure. thanks, toji.”

as you walked past him, his hand twitched at his side, like it wanted to reach out but didn’t know how.

in the kitchen, you moved around like you belonged there, grabbing a plate and heating up the food. he leaned against the counter, watching you in silence, and for the first time, he let himself think about what it would mean to let this thing between you be more than unspoken.

“hey,” he said after a moment, his voice rougher than he intended.

you glanced at him over your shoulder. “yeah?”

he opened his mouth, then closed it, the words catching in his throat. instead, he just muttered, “nothing. never mind.”

you tilted your head, studying him for a second, before giving a small nod. “okay.”

but there was something in your eyes, like you knew what he wasn’t saying, and it made his chest ache.

he wasn’t sure if addressing whatever the hell this was would change anything, but seeing the way you fit into his life — into megumi’s life — made the idea of trying feel a little less terrifying.

it wasn’t like you and toji had made any grand declarations. it was all small things, gestures that felt normal but carried an undercurrent of something deeper. grocery runs were the easiest excuse. you’d bump into him on your way home, still in your blazer and heels, and he’d grumble about needing to pick up some snacks for megumi. before you knew it, you’d both be walking side by side, bickering over the best brand of chips.

“you’re seriously buying that brand?” you teased, holding up a bag of chips that toji had tossed into the cart.

“megumi likes ‘em,” he retorted, leaning on the cart with that stupidly casual confidence that annoyed you just enough to make your heart flutter. “and besides, it’s not like your kid’s picky when she raids our pantry.”

you rolled your eyes but smiled all the same, because he wasn’t wrong.

then there were the little fixes around your apartment that seemed to magically get done whenever toji was around. your leaky faucet, the busted door hinge, your temperamental car — he waved off every attempt you made to pay him. “mechanic perks,” he’d say with a shrug, wiping his hands on a rag and giving you a smirk that made you want to both thank him and punch him.

and those car rides? the ones where the kids didn’t even need to be there? yeah, those were starting to feel more like a habit. you’d offer to drop toji off after picking megumi up from practice, and somehow, the drive would extend into picking up your girl from ballet class.

“they gotta meet anyway,” toji would say, his tone so nonchalant it was almost believable. but the way his eyes softened when your babygirl came running out, arms wide open for both of you? that was something he couldn’t fake.

then there was the day your ex finally had enough of whatever this was. the two of you had shown up together, a united front, to pick up your daughter from his place. she’d lit up like a firework when she saw you and toji standing side by side, and you couldn’t help but revel in the sight of her running straight into toji’s waiting arms before hugging you just as tightly.

“this is the guy you’ve been parading around with?” your ex sneered, his voice dripping with disdain as he leaned against the doorframe. “what, you think a deadbeat like him is an upgrade?”

toji’s posture stiffened, his grip on your daughter tightening just slightly as she clung to his neck. you opened your mouth to retort, but toji beat you to it, his voice calm but laced with steel.

“funny coming from you,” he said, his eyes narrowing as he stared your ex down. “least i actually show up for her.”

your ex faltered, his face contorting in anger, but he didn’t have a comeback. you didn’t stick around long enough for him to try.

as you buckled your daughter into the car, her voice piped up, innocent and bright. “jiji, are you coming over for dinner?”

toji glanced at you, and for a moment, something passed between you. a silent understanding, an acknowledgment of whatever the hell this was.

“yeah, kid,” he said, ruffling her hair with a small grin. “i’m coming over.”

and for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel like you were walking this road alone.

the house was warm with the kind of peace that only came after a long, chaotic day. your babygirl and megumi were a tangled heap on the couch, her tiny head resting on his shoulder while he leaned back with his mouth slightly open, fast asleep. the tv played muted scenes of superheroes saving the world, but the real action was in the kitchen, where you and toji stood shoulder to shoulder by the sink.

"you sure you’re not just washing that same plate for the third time?” you teased softly, nudging him with your elbow as he scrubbed with more focus than seemed necessary.

toji smirked but didn’t look up, his voice low and gravelly. “just making sure it’s clean. you don’t want megumi whining about leftover crumbs, trust me.”

you chuckled, rinsing another dish under the warm water, and for a moment, it was just the soft clink of plates, the jazz playing quietly from your speaker, and the faint sound of your daughter’s steady breathing in the living room.

but something was different tonight. the air felt heavier, charged, like it was holding its breath. you could feel it in the way toji’s arm brushed against yours as he passed a dish to you, in the way his fingers lingered a second too long when he handed you the towel.

“you really didn’t have to stay and help with this,” you said, glancing at him.

he shrugged, still not meeting your gaze. “figured i owed you. besides, you cooked. least i can do is clean up.”

his voice was quieter than usual, almost shy, and that wasn’t a word you’d ever thought you’d associate with toji fushiguro. it made something in your chest tighten.

you turned off the faucet, drying your hands as you looked over at him. he was still focused on the plate in his hands, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw was set like he was bracing himself.

“toji?”

he finally looked at you, and there it was — that softness in his eyes that he didn’t let show often. it made your breath catch, made the world feel like it had shrunk down to just the two of you standing in this little kitchen.

he set the plate down slowly, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to face you fully. for a moment, neither of you said anything. the jazz filled the silence, but the air between you was louder than words.

his hand came up hesitantly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his calloused fingers grazing your cheek. “you’ve been good to him, y’know,” he murmured, his voice rough but soft in the way he said it. “to us.”

you didn’t know what to say to that. all you could do was nod, your throat tight as you looked up at him. his face was closer now, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips like he was searching for something — permission, maybe, or courage.

you didn’t even realize you’d moved until your hand rested lightly on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

and then it happened.

he leaned in, slowly, almost cautiously, and your eyes fluttered shut just as his lips brushed against yours. it was tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but when you didn’t pull away — when you leaned into him instead — it deepened.

toji kissed like he did everything else: fully, unapologetically, with an intensity that left you breathless. his hands found your waist, pulling you just a little closer, and you slid yours up to rest on his shoulders, feeling the strength there, the way he held you like you were something fragile and precious all at once.

the kiss wasn’t hurried or frantic; it was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to memorize every second of it. it was the kind of kiss that left your knees weak, your head spinning, and your heart pounding in your chest.

when you finally pulled back, both of you a little breathless, his forehead rested against yours.

“damn,” he muttered, his voice low and a little shaky.

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, your fingers still curled in the fabric of his shirt. “yeah,” you agreed, your voice barely above a whisper.

the moment stretched between you, warm and heavy and perfect. and for the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

megumi stirred awake first, his sharp eyes blinking groggily as he took in the scene. your baby girl was still curled up against him, her face smushed against his shoulder, and he wrinkled his nose, trying to shake her off gently without waking her. it was only when he looked over to the kitchen that he paused, his brain catching up with what he was seeing.

his dad. toji. standing ridiculously close to you by the sink, both of you talking in low voices like the world outside didn’t exist. toji’s hand brushed your arm lightly as he reached for a towel, and you laughed softly, a sound that felt too intimate for megumi to process this early in his half-asleep state.

“ugh, gross,” he mumbled under his breath, sitting up straighter and inadvertently jostling your babygirl awake.

she yawned, rubbing her eyes and giving him a confused look. “what’s gross?”

“nothing,” megumi said quickly, his face heating up as he avoided looking at her — or at the scene in the kitchen that was playing out like the ending of one of those superhero movies he loved but would never admit made him feel things.

by the time you and toji noticed the kids were awake, megumi had already schooled his expression into something neutral, though his sharp eyes flicked between the two of you as you made your way over.

“sorry for waking you up, sweetheart,” you said softly to your kid, crouching down to smooth her hair.

toji, ever the blunt one, crossed his arms and grunted, “time to get going, brats.”

megumi shot him a look, one that said you’re not fooling me, old man, but he didn’t say anything. instead, he stood up and stretched, deliberately not looking at how his dad’s gaze lingered on you for just a second too long.

at the door, the kids exchanged their goodbyes in their usual awkward but affectionate way — your baby girl giving megumi a quick hug that he tolerated with a huff.

toji ruffled megumi’s hair roughly, earning an annoyed grunt. “come on, kid. say thank you.”

megumi rolled his eyes but muttered a grudging, “thanks for dinner,” before looking up at you.

and then, because megumi was too perceptive for his own good, he added, “and for putting up with him.”

toji frowned, his brows knitting together. “watch it, smartass.”

but the way you laughed — soft and warm and filled with something megumi couldn’t quite name — made toji’s expression soften.

as you leaned down to hug your babygirl goodnight, megumi caught his dad watching you again, his face doing that weird thing it did when he was proud of a home run or secretly enjoying one of megumi’s superhero tangents.

“dad,” megumi said as they stepped into the hallway.

“what?” toji grunted, avoiding his son’s gaze.

megumi smirked, the kind that made him look way older than his nine years. “you’re doing that thing.”

toji frowned, feigning ignorance. “what thing?”

“you know. that thing my favorite superhero does when he saves his secret girlfriend,” megumi said with a dramatic air, glancing back at your door before looking at his dad again.

toji snorted, trying — and failing — not to look flustered. “quit it, kid.”

but megumi didn’t miss the way his dad’s lips twitched into the smallest of smiles. he knew exactly what was going on.

love? probably.

yeah, megumi was pretty sure his dad loved you.

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it was funny, really, how quickly time had flown. one moment, you were corralling a tutu-clad, glitter-faced babygirl to ballet class, and the next, you were breaking up arguments between her and megumi over whose superhero knowledge was superior.

"they’re literally fake, megumi!" she'd shriek.

"so are ballerinas in space!" he’d yell back.

and there you and toji would be, slumped at the dining table, each nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee as you exchanged weary, knowing looks.

“how do ten-year-olds even have this much energy?” you’d mutter, pressing your fingertips into your temples.

toji, half-laughing, half-grumbling, would reply, “they don’t. they’re siphoning it off us.”

it had been a year and a half of this — this weird, beautiful, chaotic thing you’d built. the kids, their shared antics, and the way they declared every single dinner a sleepover had woven your lives together so seamlessly that it felt like you’d never been apart in the first place.

but the truth? the sleepover excuse wasn’t just for the kids anymore. you and toji had grown so comfortable in this rhythm, this routine, that it felt like breathing. and yet, there was still this unspoken thing between you, hanging in the air like a question neither of you wanted to ask.

it was easy to ignore, easier still to pretend that this was just how things were. you’d watch as toji threw his head back in laughter at one of megumi’s sarcastic comments, his broad shoulders shaking, or when he’d lean in to help your girl tie her ballet shoes — his fingers oddly gentle for someone so rough around the edges. those moments made your heart ache in ways you didn’t want to name.

and then there was the way he looked at you when the kids weren’t paying attention. like when megumi would drag your babygirl out into the yard to “train” her in superhero moves, and you’d catch toji’s eyes lingering on you just a second too long.

“what?” you’d ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

“nothin’,” he’d say, but the way his lips twitched into a small smile betrayed him.

but you knew it wasn’t nothing. it hadn’t been nothing for a while now. and maybe it was time to stop pretending.

your ex hadn’t made it easy, of course. every time he paraded some new flavor of the month in front of your girl, you’d see the disappointment in her eyes, and it made your chest tighten. but then there’d be toji — steady, dependable, his quiet reassurances and the way he always managed to make her smile again.

“he’s better than dad,” she’d told you once, out of the blue, her voice small but firm.

and maybe that was the final nudge you needed.

the night felt heavier than usual, the quiet hum of the dishwasher and the occasional creak of the floorboards the only sounds accompanying you as you stood side by side in the kitchen. toji rinsed the last plate, handing it to you with a quick glance that lingered a little too long.

“they’re getting wilder,” he muttered, nodding toward the living room where your girl and megumi were sprawled on the sofa, limbs tangled as if they'd fought sleep until it finally won.

you chuckled softly, drying the plate and setting it aside. “they’re ten. this is the warm-up for what’s coming in a few years.”

he let out a low groan, running a hand through his hair. “don’t remind me. thought i’d have more time before the hormones kicked in.”

you smirked, leaning against the counter as he dried his hands on a dishtowel. it was domestic in a way that felt almost too intimate, like crossing an invisible line. and yet, neither of you had stepped back.

“toji,” you said, your voice breaking the comfortable silence.

he looked up, the weight in your tone pulling his full attention. “yeah?”

you hesitated, biting your lip as you fidgeted with the edge of the dish towel. how do you even start this? you thought about the past year and a half, the shared laughter, the quiet moments, the way his presence had become a constant in your life. the way your girl lit up when he was around. the way you lit up.

“this,” you finally said, gesturing between the two of you, your words coming out softer than you intended. “whatever this is... do you think we should talk about it?”

his brow furrowed slightly, and for a moment, your heart sank. but then he nodded, setting the towel down on the counter.

“i’ve been thinkin’ about it,” he admitted, his voice low.

“and?” you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.

he sighed, leaning against the counter beside you, his gaze fixed on the floor. “look, i’m not great at this kinda thing,” he began, his fingers tapping absently against the edge of the counter. “but... you’ve been good for me. for megumi. hell, for both of us.”

your breath caught, and you turned to face him fully. “toji...”

he held up a hand, cutting you off gently. “lemme finish,” he said, his voice a little rough. he looked at you then, really looked at you, his eyes searching yours like he was trying to figure out how to say something he’d been holding onto for too long.

“i didn’t think this was gonna happen,” he said finally. “not for me. not again.” he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “but you... you made it so easy. like it’s not somethin’ to be scared of. like it’s just... there. y’know?”

you nodded, your throat tight as you listened.

“and it’s not just about me,” he continued, his voice softening. “it’s about them. megumi... he’s happier than i’ve seen him in years. and your girl? she’s somethin’ special, and the way you’ve raised her... damn.” he shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

you felt your cheeks heat, and you looked down, trying to compose yourself.

“so yeah,” he said, his voice steady now. “i don’t know what this is, but if you’re askin’ me if i want more of it... then yeah. i do.”

your breath hitched, and when you looked up, the sincerity in his eyes made your chest tighten.

“toji,” you said again, your voice barely above a whisper. “i’ve wanted to say something for a while now, but I didn’t know how. you’ve been... everything we didn’t know we needed. me and my girl. you’ve been there in ways no one else ever has, and it’s just... it’s so easy with you. i want this too.”

his lips curved into a small, relieved smile, and for a moment, the weight of the unspoken words between you lifted.

“yeah?” he asked softly, his voice almost teasing.

you smiled back, nodding. “yeah.”

and then, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he reached out and pulled you into a hug. it wasn’t rushed or desperate — it was steady, grounding, the kind of hug that felt like coming home. and when he whispered, “i’m all in if you are,” into your hair, you felt the last of your hesitation melt away.

because with toji, love wasn’t just a possibility — it was a promise.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

another two years later, and the kids were twelve. twelve. a big deal, according to them. suddenly they were "basically teenagers," and with that came a whole new level of attitude and pride. and you and toji? you were more than grateful for the chaos. or, as he liked to tease, “engaged to it.” yeah, engaged. took the man long enough — three and a half, maybe four years — but who’s counting?

your kids, of course, had taken the news with the kind of casual confidence only twelve-year-olds could muster. “about time,” megumi had muttered, earning an elbow in the ribs from your girl, who’d just grinned and said, “told you he liked her.”

and publicly? they carried themselves with the kind of poise that made you and toji bite back laughter more than once. “yeah, that’s my dad,” your girl would say with a shrug as toji dropped her off at ballet, towering over all the other dads and somehow looking both intimidating and incredibly proud as she disappeared into the studio.

megumi was just as bad. “that’s my mom,” he’d say to anyone within earshot at his little league games, pointing you out as you cheered the loudest from the stands, sometimes alongside toji who couldn’t help but smirk at your enthusiasm. “and yeah, that’s my sister,” he’d add, nonchalantly, as if it wasn’t a big deal that they’d practically become inseparable siblings over the years.

of course, behind closed doors, they were just kids. kids who still watched superhero movies while pretending not to, kids who choreographed ballet routines to superhero soundtracks because cool kids don’t watch superhero movies.

and you? you were still on that hustle, balancing work, motherhood, and planning a wedding with the kind of grace that made toji shake his head in awe every time.

“how do you do it?” he’d asked one night, watching you juggle your laptop and the kids’ school schedules.

“coffee and pure spite,” you’d replied, smirking over the rim of your mug.

toji, though? he’d built something solid too. his mechanic shop was finally open, a dream he’d quietly nurtured for years. seeing him in his element, sleeves rolled up, hands covered in grease, and that signature smirk plastered across his face, was enough to make your heart skip a beat every damn time.

life wasn’t perfect — there were still late nights, homework battles, and the occasional tantrum — but it was good. no, scratch that. it was damn good.

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mattybsgroupie · 8 months ago

Text

mine | matt sturniolo

contents: cursing; fighting; (kinda) toxic relationship; handjob (m receiving); oral (f receiving); use of “y/n”; lowkey sub!matt

- ♡ -

as we arrived at his house, i slammed the door shut behind me. “can you stop being an asshole?” i yelled, getting closer to him.

“yes? if you stop acting like a fucking whore” matt said, raising his voice at me.

“shut up matthew” i was serious this time, and he could it see it in my eyes. “don’t act like you didn’t notice how every fucking girl there was hitting on you”.

matt rolled his eyes back, giving me a whole grin before shouting “you sat on his LAP!”

“he’s my friend!” i answered. “i know him longer than i’ve known you!”

“you’re my fucking girl!”, his loud voice filled the living room to the point it made me shrug, not being able to get a word out of my mouth.

i stayed there, quiet. my arms were crossed as i stared into his eyes — i could instantly tell he regretted saying that. matt was moving in circles, scratching his freshly shaved beard and cracking his knuckles before coming back to me.

“okay? you’re my girl y/n. you can’t do shit like that and expect me to be fine about it” he grabbed my face with both of his hands and stared back at me, talking in an angry, almost demanding tone. his touch, however, was still soft.

“no matthew, i’m not your fucking girl if you’re not gonna be my fucking guy. what the fuck was that scene for?” i put my hands over his and removed them.

“listen y/n, i can’t do this. i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry but it’s better if we go to sleep. i’m fucking tired and you’re drunk” matt never liked to sort things out during a heated moment. he needed some time alone to align his thoughts and finally being able to solve the problem.

“i’m not drunk, matt. i had a couple drinks with your brother, that’s all”.

“and that explains how you end up grinding over some guy’s lap?” he asked me again, and now i was the one who didn’t want to keep on fighting.

“you know what? you’re right. it’s better if we go to bed. but i’m gonna go back to my fucking bed, at my fucking house” i said as i walked out, not bothering looking at his face. “so have a good night by yourself matthew, you ruined the whole night”.

i stopped by the sidewalk, trying to put myself together as tears began to form in my eyes. not only i was angry and disappointed at matt, but i had no one to take me back home since he’s been the one doing this for the past year. on top of that, the weather had completely changed and i was fucking freezing.

i heard the door unlocking and his steps getting closer, but i didn’t dare looking back.

“y/n, what the fuck are you doing? come inside” matt asked and i realized he had snapped out of it already. his voice was tender and full of emotion.

“no, i’m calling an uber”.

“babe” low blow. matt knows how much i like it when he calls me pet names. “it’s late. please come, it’s getting fucking cold here”.

“good” i turned without thinking and finally saw his face again. just like me, he had red cheeks and eyes filled with tears. “you should freeze to death”.

“yeah, i’ll keep that in mind” he smiled. “y/n i’m sorry. i’m sorry that i didn’t say to those girls i had a girlfriend and i’m sorry i raised my voice at you. i know i shouldn’t have done that, can you please forgive me? please?” matt looked at me with puppy eyes. “you don’t have to do it right now but at least get inside. i’ll drop you off in the morning after you rest and we’ll fix things up. please, babe”.

i nodded my head, agreeing silently - i wasn’t gonna say a word to him. i got back to the house and quickly went upstairs, making myself comfortable in his big bed. matt didn’t follow me, and though i wouldn’t lock the door on him, he knew he was going to sleep on the couch.

- ♡ -

i glanced at the nightstand clock, 3AM. i couldn’t fall asleep without matt. i missed his smell, his touch, his warmth, the way he’d let me rest my head over his chest while caressing my back or the days where he’d give up acting tough and giving in to my touch, deeply asleep while i kept running my fingers through his curls.

i went downstairs. i had to - my heart was as heavy as my eyes.

i saw matt all curled up on the plain couch, not having a blanket or a pillow. he hadn’t even changed his clothes, still wearing the same grey jeans and black shirt he went out with earlier.

i instinctively got closer and lied down with him, trying my best to not wake matt up. just being around him like this made me let out a long breathe, finally being able to relax.

“hm? babe?” he murmured, too sleepy to actually look at me.

“cant sleep without you. shut up”

“c’m here” matt opened his arms, allowing me to snuggle into him “are you still mad? i love you. love you so much”

i loved him even more. gosh, how much i love him.

i tried to get even closer to him, glueing our bodies together as my hand rested on his thigh. i couldn’t help but kiss his jaw, playfully biting all over him. he giggled softly, melting into my touch as i kept trailing down his neck with kisses.

as i reached his sweet spot, i noticed matt’s breath had gotten slower and heavier. he didn’t say anything - in fact, i don’t think he even bothered opening his eyes - but didn’t complain as i deepened my pecks, slowing sucking onto his pale skin.

of course i was gonna give matt a hickey. if he says i’m his, then i’ll show he’s also mine.

i slowly moved my hands to his waistband, altering between tickling his lower belly and teasing his boxers.

“y/n… fuck” matt mumbled.

“hm? want me to stop?” i asked just to make sure.

“n-no, don’t. i’m… getting hard” he stared at his pants before giving me puppy eyes once again.

“are you gonna be a good boy and behave for once, matt?”

“uhum. yes yes i will” matt started speaking mindlessly, agreeing with anything i'd tell him to do.

“yeah? gonna stop acting like you’re a tough guy?”

“y-you know that im not that tough…” he whispered shyly before looking away.

“you’re right. you’re just a silly boy, aren’t you matthew?” no response. “answer me.”

“y/n, please”

“please what?”

“please let me touch you” he leaned in, trying to kiss my lips. i didn't let him go any further than a peck. “need you so bad”.

“let me take care of you first, hm?” i asked, eventually getting a grip of his bulge over his pants.

“yes babe, fuck” he nodded frantically, eager for me to get him off.

“don’t you think it’s funny?” i said, adjusting myself on the sofa so i could finally unbutton his jeans. “few hours ago you were man enough to call me a slut”. i put my hands inside matt’s pants, palming his hardened cock through his boxers. i could feel a wet spot building up, letting me know his pre-cum was already leaking. “and now you can’t even say what you want?” i teased.

“wanna be good for you” he whimpered as i removed his last piece of cloth, freeing his dick out. matt’s hips bucked into the air, begging to get some friction. “please, please, i’ll behave! i promise i’ll be your good boy”, he cried. poor thing.

i went back to kissing matt while wrapping my fingers around his length, pumping him at a slow pace. i could hear his whines and the small moans he tried to cover by biting his own lips. i placed my thumb at his tip, circling it and spreading the pre-cum down his cock.

matt had gone even quieter, left arm covering half of his face as if he was too embarrassed to admit how much he needed my touch.

soon enough, i had fastened my pace and tightened my grip, his voice finally coming out “i’m gonna cum”.

“did you get permission?”, i asked. he knew how things worked.

“f-fuck y/n, please. wanna cum so bad” matt whimpered once again, cheeks as red as his tip.

“well, you weren’t being a good boy today. do you really think you deserve it?”

“im sorry ah-” he moaned loudly “please, wanna cum. wanna cum for you” he kept repeating over and over, suddenly replacing the words with babbles full of lewd sounds. i could tell how hard he was trying to not release, worried he’d wouldn’t be a good boy anymore.

“go on, baby boy. make a mess for me” it took matt just a few seconds to sputter his cum all over my hand with a loud cry, hips jointing forward during his orgasm. i kept on softly palming his cock as he came back from his high, trying my best to not overstimulate him.

“you're SO fucking good” matt groaned, eyes still closed. “oh” he noticed i had my hand full of his release, “can i make it up to you?”

i nodded and matt grabbed his jeans to clean us up in the sloppiest way i've ever seen. he pulled his boxers back up and got off the couch, leaving me with furrowed eyebrows as i tried to understand whatever he was planning to do. he then took his shirt off so i could see all the purple spots i've left throughout his neck and collarbone, throwing it somewhere and kneeling in front of me. fuck.

matt placed his hands by the sides of my legs and decided to rest his face on my thighs, deeply starring at me with those blue eyes that would drive me insane. he then placed his fingers on my waistband, teasing me in the same way i had done earlier. it didn’t took long until he realized i wasn't wearing any panties and the sweaters i had on were, in fact, his.

“no panties and you don't want me calling you a slut?” he asked before licking his lips.

“matt, be a good boy” i said, reminding him of what had just happened.

“well” he slowly started removing my pants. “i think you should learn how to be a good girl as well”.

i was now fully exposed and matt couldn't shut up about it “you're so fucking wet”, he'd say while placing kisses on the insides of my thighs. as he got closer to my crotch and his kisses turned into love bites, i lost my sense of control - we had the same power over each other, each one of us letting go of any and all armors during intimate moments like this one.

i couldn't help but forcing my hips down on him, whining as i felt his heavy breathing against my clit. matt smiled and looked at me before giving one long lick from my hole back to my clit, just like a kitten. i gasped when he started to swirl his tongue on me and my hands instinctively went to his fluffy hair, holding onto him as if my life depended on it.

i was already on the verge of releasing - anything from him would make me come right on the spot. matt kept on scratching my thighs and occasionally holding my hips to stop me from moving around so much.

“fuck babe, your pussy is so fucking pretty” he said as he moved to my entrance, teasing me with the tip of his tongue. my dripping wet cunt made it easier for matt to get in, and he already knew i was getting close as my pussy throbbed over his face.

not a single word came out of my mouth, the living room being filled with my high pitched whimpers when matt placed his thumb over my clit and played with it - while still eating me out.

“wanna taste you” he almost begged. “wasn't i your good boy? shouldn't you cum in my mouth as a reward?” he started sucking my clit and when my eyes met his, i was thrown off the edge. my orgasm crashed down on me, making my legs tremble as i kept on moaning, matt slowing driving me through it.

i came back to my senses and found matt looking so satisfied, as if he actually had an entire meal - swollen, wet lips, messy hair and the biggest smile on his face. he came closer to my face and allowed me to have a taste of myself in a lewd kiss, both of us acknowledging our fight was over.

“i love you so much”, he whispered. “i love you even more” i said, pulling him back up to the sofa and tangling my legs around his waist, letting his body collapse onto mine as we went on our way to finally get some sleep.

- ♡ -

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matt x y/n #sub!matt #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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kiwriteswords · 20 days ago

Note

Could I please get a fake dating or like Hotch jumps in to be Reader's date for a wedding or something story?

Everybody Loves Somebody

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: I keep telling myself that I want to post something every day of December, so let's see if I can keep this up! This one I fought myself back and forth if I liked it, so I hope you guys do! I also need to update my masterlist...like bad.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader||Word Count: 13.5k

Tags/Warnings: Female Reader, BAU Reader, Hotch and Reader are Best Friends, Reader is being breadcrumbed by another guy, insecure reader, reader does not know her worth, weddings, mentions of alcohol in a wedding setting, smut, smut with feelings, smut that you have to use your imagination for in some points, not specified, but unprotected sex, one-bed-trope, romance, fluff, angst, eluding to reader being in toxic relationships before, hurt/comfort.

Sypnosis: At a wedding filled with laughter, romance, and unexpected revelations, You and Hotch find yourselves navigating the fine line between friendship and something more. What starts as a favor soon becomes a night of quiet truths and unspoken emotions, as the two of you grapple with feelings that can no longer be ignored.

Aaron Hotchner had long considered himself an observant man. It was, after all, an essential trait in his line of work. But when it came to you, his closest friend and confidant, observation was more than professional—it was personal. He prided himself on knowing you better than anyone else, even if the knowledge sometimes brought him a frustrating ache he didn’t dare examine too closely.

That ache flared again today as he glanced across the bullpen to where you sat at your desk. To the untrained eye, you were simply busy—typing emails, jotting notes, occasionally furrowing your brow in concentration. But Hotch knew better. The tight set of your jaw, the way your leg bounced beneath your desk, and the fact that you hadn’t laughed at any of Morgan’s jokes all afternoon—those were your tells. Something was wrong.

He waited until the team dispersed for lunch to approach. You didn’t notice him until he leaned against the edge of your desk, his arms crossed, and gave you one of his signature looks—the kind that said he was waiting for answers.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence as you glanced up at him.

Hotch raised a brow. “You’re upset.”

You scoffed lightly, turning your attention back to your computer. “I’m fine.”

The evasion only confirmed his suspicions. “You’re not fine,” he said softly. “Talk to me.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then, with a sigh, you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms defensively. “It’s nothing, Hotch. Just... plans fell through, and I’m annoyed. That’s all.”

But it wasn’t nothing. He knew exactly what—or rather who—was behind this.

“Let me guess,” he said, his voice hardening despite himself. “It’s him.”

Your silence was damning.

Hotch felt his stomach twist. He hated this—hated how that man, who didn’t deserve an ounce of your time, could still have this hold on you. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like this—hopeful one minute, crushed the next. He clenched his jaw, reigning in the frustration that wasn’t entirely directed at the man.

Hotch remembered every instance in painful clarity.

The blown-off phone calls. The texts left unanswered for hours, sometimes days. The signs of interest one day, only for them to vanish into disinterest the next. It was a cycle so predictable it made Hotch’s blood boil, not just because it hurt you but because you still held out hope every time that this time would be different.

And then there were the worst moments—the ones that left marks even you couldn’t brush off.

There was the time you’d shown up to work after a rare weekend off, a hopeful sparkle in your eye as you mentioned that things finally seemed to be turning around with him. Hotch had wanted to believe it for your sake, but he’d barely had time to hope before you confided—over lunch in the BAU’s break room—that the man had stood you up for dinner, citing a “misunderstanding.” Hotch had gripped his coffee mug so tightly he thought it might crack.

Through it all, he’d stayed quiet. He’d been your friend, your colleague, your confidant. He’d listened when you needed to vent, offered advice when you asked, and let you lean on him when the weight of disappointment became too much. But inside, he’d been screaming.

Screaming at the man who couldn’t see the incredible person standing right in front of him. Screaming at himself for letting it go on for so long without saying more.

“What happened?” he asked, forcing his tone to remain gentle.

You sighed again, this time heavier. “My friend from college and grad school, Annie, is getting married this weekend. I had a plus-one, and—well, he was supposed to come with me.” Your voice wavered just slightly. “But he bailed last minute. Said he couldn’t make it because he’s ‘too busy.’”

Hotch’s jaw tightened further. Too busy? The excuse was laughable, infuriating, and so painfully predictable. He hated seeing the way you tried to downplay your disappointment as if his latest betrayal were somehow your fault.

“I don’t get it, Hotch,” you continued quietly, staring down at your desk. “I thought things were finally going somewhere this time. But he’s always—” You shook your head, blinking back tears. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just—”

He wanted to tell you why. Wanted to tell you that you hoped because you were good, because you believed in people even when they didn’t deserve it. He wanted to tell you that your hope was one of the things he admired most about you—and the thing that tore him apart when it was weaponized against you.

“Stop,” Hotch interrupted, his voice firmer than he intended.

You blinked up at him in surprise.

“This isn’t about you,” he said, holding your gaze. “It’s about him. He’s a coward who doesn’t see what’s right in front of him. You deserve better than this—better than him. You do this because you care. But he doesn’t deserve it.”

You smiled weakly, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Hotch. But it’s not like I have a backup plan. It’s just one weekend. I’ll survive.”

Hotch watched as you tried to bury your hurt under a mask of indifference, but it didn’t fool him. He wasn’t sure when he made the decision—it was instinctive, like every protective impulse he felt when it came to you.

“Then let me go with you,” he said, the words spilling out before he could overthink them.

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“I’ll go with you to the wedding,” he repeated, his voice calm and steady. “If you’ll have me.”

The stunned look on your face made him wonder if he’d overstepped. But then your lips curved into a genuine smile—a rare one that he hadn’t seen all day.

“You’d really do that?” you asked softly.

He nodded, his own lips twitching into the smallest smile. “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

You laughed—a light, incredulous sound that made something warm bloom in his chest. “Aaron Hotchner, my wedding date. Who would’ve thought?”

“It’s a first for me, too,” he admitted, his tone light but sincere. “But I promise, you won’t regret it.”

For the first time that day, Hotch saw a flicker of hope in your eyes, and he silently vowed to make good on his promise. Because whether you realized it or not, you deserved someone who saw your worth—someone who would never dream of leaving you hanging.

And if that someone couldn’t be him, he’d at least make sure you saw what it was like to be treated the way you deserved, even if just for one weekend.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somehow, agreeing to accompany you to this wedding had become the most complicated logistical endeavor of his week. Which, considering he led a team of profilers tracking violent criminals, was saying something.

He sat across from you at the round table in the break room, a notepad in hand as you went over the details for the weekend. You were in full planning mode, leaning forward, your fingers tapping rhythmically against your coffee cup.

“So,” you began, grinning. “The wedding is in Stafford. I already booked a room because I wasn’t sure how late I’d stay, but now that you’re coming, I can probably cancel that and just—”

“You should keep it,” Hotch interjected.

You raised an eyebrow, your grin morphing into something sly. “Aaron, are you worried about your reputation? Afraid of being seen walking out of my hotel room in the morning?”

His lips quirked into the faintest smile. “I’m worried about getting enough sleep and having to share a room with someone who steals the covers.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned, pretending to clutch your chest. “Accusing me of being a cover thief without evidence. Profiling me already, Hotchner?”

“Call it an educated guess.”

Your laugh was light and easy, the sound wrapping around him in a way that momentarily made him forget you were planning this trip because someone else had let you down. He knew better than to dwell on that, though, especially now that you were in good spirits again.

“So,” you continued, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “you’re driving, right? You’ve got the serious FBI Dad car that won’t break down.”

Hotch raised a brow, unsure what quick-witted joke you were making at him. “FBI Dad car?”

“Yeah, you know,” you teased, gesturing vaguely. “Sturdy, reliable, no-nonsense. It practically screams, ‘I’m an authority figure, and I have juice boxes in the back seat for emergencies.’”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Yes, I’ll drive.”

Before you could respond, Morgan’s voice drifted in from the hallway.

“Sounds like we’re right after all,” he said, loud enough for both of you to hear.

Hotch turned to find Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi standing in the doorway, all wearing expressions ranging from smug to amused.

“Right about what?” Hotch asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Oh, nothing,” Morgan replied, but the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth said otherwise.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at the trio. “Okay, spill it. What conspiracy theory are you cooking up now?”

Prentiss smirked. “Oh, it’s not a conspiracy. Just a little… friendly office speculation.”

Rossi, ever the instigator, folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Let’s just say there’s a reason the betting pool has been so active lately.”

Hotch blinked, confused. “Betting pool?”

“On what?” you asked, your tone equal parts curious and incredulous.

Morgan didn’t miss a beat. “On when you two were finally going to get together.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, simultaneously:

“What?” Hotch said, his voice clipped with disbelief.

“Excuse me?” you said, your tone higher and filled with mock outrage.

The trio in the doorway looked utterly unfazed.

“Oh, come on,” Prentiss said, rolling her eyes. “You finish each other’s sentences, you bicker like an old couple, and don’t even get me started on the way you look at each other.”

You snorted. “The way we look at each other? What is this, a rom-com?”

Hotch held up a hand, his expression stern but his tone baffled. “This is absurd. We’re colleagues and friends. That’s it.”

Morgan raised a skeptical brow. “Friends, huh? You’re going to a wedding together. And if I’m not mistaken, Hotch just volunteered to drive—sounds pretty couple-y to me.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Oh, Derek, sweet, sweet Derek,” you said, your voice dripping with exaggerated condescension. “Are you trying to tell me that I can’t ask my best friend to be my date to a wedding without it being some grand romantic gesture?”

Morgan grinned. “Not saying it, just calling it like I see it.”

Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is ridiculous.”

Prentiss gave him a mock-serious look. “It’s not ridiculous if it’s true.”

“It’s not true,” you and Hotch said in unison, which only seemed to amuse the team further.

“Uh-huh,” Morgan said, exchanging a knowing look with Rossi.

Hotch turned to you, his lips pressing into a thin line. “They’re crazy.”

“Oh, 100%,” you agreed, giving him a quick, conspiratorial grin. “But let’s not correct them. Let’s just let them spiral into their own delusions. It’ll be fun to watch.”

Prentiss smirked. “You know we can still hear you, right?”

“Then you’re welcome for the entertainment,” you shot back, standing and grabbing your coffee cup.

As the team finally dispersed, still laughing and muttering amongst themselves, Hotch shook his head, bemused.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Hey, look at it this way,” you said, bumping his shoulder lightly as you passed. “At least now you’ve got a reputation as a fun wedding date. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Despite himself, Hotch felt a small smile tug at his lips. “Right.”

Hotch arrived at your apartment a few minutes early, the morning sun casting long shadows across the quiet street. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket while waiting, catching himself fidgeting—a rare occurrence. He told himself it was because of the unfamiliarity of the situation, not because of you.

When you finally emerged, his breath hitched. You were dressed simply but elegantly, exuding a confidence that he found himself noticing more than usual. As you approached the car, you waved with a teasing smile.

“Wow, Aaron, I didn’t think punctuality extended to wedding duty,” you quipped, opening the passenger door.

He smirked as you slid into the seat. “You make it sound like this is an interrogation.”

“Depends. Will there be a polygraph at the reception?” you shot back, buckling your seatbelt.

Hotch chuckled softly, pulling away from the curb. “Let’s hope not.”

The silence between you was comfortable as the car rolled onto the highway. Hotch found himself glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You were scrolling through your phone, your brow furrowing in that way it always did when you were deep in thought.

“So,” he began, breaking the quiet, “what’s the plan for the reception? Do I stand in the corner and look intimidating, or are you expecting me to charm your college friends?”

You turned to him with a mock-serious expression. “You’re under strict orders to charm, obviously. What’s the point of bringing you along if you’re just going to brood in a corner?”

“I don’t brood,” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, you absolutely brood,” you said with a grin. “But don’t worry—I’ll coach you. Step one: smile occasionally. It won’t kill you.”

Hotch shot you a dry look. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

Your laugh was light, but it held an edge of something deeper—something that lingered in the air between you like a static charge.

After a beat, you shifted in your seat, your voice softening. “You know, you really didn’t have to do this. I would’ve survived.”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “I know. But I wanted to.”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. There was something in your gaze—a mix of gratitude and something unspoken, something he didn’t dare put a name to.

“Well,” you said, your voice tinged with a sly edge as you broke the comfortable silence. “If we’re doing this, we might as well make it fun. Tell me, Hotch—how’s your dancing?”

Hotch glanced at you, arching an eyebrow as his lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “Impeccable.”

You blinked, your grin faltering in mock surprise. “Wait, really? You can’t just say that and not elaborate.”

“I don’t think there’s much to elaborate on,” he said, his tone light but confident. “Years of events, fundraisers, and... the occasional gala. I can hold my own.”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, then let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, this is going to be fun. The FBI’s most stoic agent is secretly a Fred Astaire in disguise? Who knew?”

Hotch chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. I didn’t say I was flashy.”

“Flashy is overrated,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Grace, timing, presence—those are the real markers of a great dancer.”

“And you’d know this how?” he asked, shooting you a sidelong glance.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I took some lessons in college. Turns out I have two left feet, but I’m a great judge of talent.”

He smirked. “Two left feet? I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it,” you said, grinning. “So, looks like I’ll be depending on you to keep us from embarrassing ourselves on the dance floor.”

“I think we’ll manage,” he replied, his voice steady but laced with a quiet warmth.

There was something in the way you looked at him then, your teasing smile softening just enough to give away the unspoken tension humming beneath the surface. Hotch forced his attention back to the road, though his mind lingered on the way your presence seemed to fill the space around him so effortlessly.

“You know,” you said after a moment, breaking the silence with a playful tilt to your voice, “if you’re this good at dancing, I’m starting to think I’ve been seriously underestimating you.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone carrying the faintest hint of a challenge.

“Yeah,” you replied, tapping a finger against your chin in mock thought. “What other hidden talents are you keeping from me?”

Hotch smirked, but instead of answering, he let the question hang in the air, his silence calculated.

“Oh, come on,” you pressed, laughing lightly. “You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and leave me hanging.”

He shrugged, his expression unreadable but his tone unmistakably amused. “Maybe I like keeping you guessing.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Your laugh filled the car again, bright and unrestrained, and Hotch allowed himself a small smile. It was moments like this—when the walls between you seemed to lower without effort—that he felt the tug of something deeper. Something he’d long ignored, even as it grew impossible to deny.

As the miles stretched on, the banter gave way to quieter moments, but the tension never left. It simmered beneath the surface, in the way your knee brushed against the center console, in the way his name sounded when you said it, in the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long at every red light.

By the time you reached the venue, Hotch found himself gripping the wheel a little tighter, his usual composure shaken just enough to make him wonder if this was really just about being a good friend.

And judging by the way you looked at him as you stepped out of the car, he suspected he wasn’t the only one wondering.

By the time Hotch pulled into the parking lot, the late morning sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the small boutique hotel nestled on the edge of town. He stepped out of the car, grabbing your overnight bag from the trunk and trying not to notice the way your dress caught the light as you smoothed it out.

The lobby was quaint, adorned with rustic charm, and the check-in process was quick. Hotch couldn’t help but notice the faint blush that crept up your cheeks when the receptionist handed him a single key card.

“Enjoy your stay,” the woman said with a knowing smile, though Hotch couldn’t decipher if it was genuine or merely part of her routine.

As you both stepped into the elevator, you glanced at him, your lips twitching with amusement. “So, any guesses on the room situation?”

Hotch gave you a sidelong glance, his voice steady. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

But the moment the door to the room swung open, he realized "fine" was a stretch.

There it was. The single bed. Large and neatly made, taking up most of the modestly sized room.

You stopped in the doorway, your bag slung over one shoulder as you surveyed the scene. “Well,” you said after a moment, turning back to him with a raised eyebrow, “this is cozy.”

Hotch cleared his throat, stepping inside and setting your bag on the chair in the corner. “It’s practical,” he said, though even he didn’t believe the words.

You smirked, closing the door behind you. “I didn’t realize practicality came with a built-in proximity test.”

He gave you a faint look, his lips twitching despite himself. “If it’s an issue, I can take the floor.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” you said, brushing past him to set your phone on the bedside table. “We’re both adults. I think we can survive one night.” You looked back at him and had almost a nervous laugh, “Plus, I have to prove to you I’m not a sheet thief.”

The confidence in your voice didn’t quite match the flicker of something else in your eyes—nervousness, curiosity, or perhaps the same undercurrent of tension he’d felt since the drive.

“Well,” you continued, shaking off the moment as you dug through your bag, “we don’t have much time before the ceremony, so I’m claiming the bathroom first. Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone.”

Hotch chuckled softly as you disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water quickly filling the room. He loosened his tie, sitting on the edge of the bed and glancing around. The space was neat, understated, with soft lighting that made everything feel strangely intimate.

He caught himself staring at the bathroom door longer than necessary, then stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair.

When you emerged a few minutes later, your face freshly washed and your lipstick reapplied, you looked radiant. Hotch found himself at a loss for words, though he masked it by stepping into the bathroom with a curt, “Your turn to wait.”

The cool water on his face did little to clear his mind. By the time he stepped back into the room, fully composed, you were seated on the edge of the bed, slipping your shoes on.

“All set?” he asked, his voice steadier than he felt.

You glanced up at him, your smile soft but teasing. “Ready when you are, Fred Astaire.”

He smirked, grabbing his jacket and gesturing toward the door. “After you.”

As you walked ahead, Hotch allowed himself a brief moment to exhale, the weight of the growing tension settling over him like a second skin. The day had barely begun, and already, he found himself wondering just how long he could keep his thoughts—and his feelings—in check.

The sun filtered through the trees, casting soft, dappled light on the guests as they made their way toward the outdoor ceremony space. Hotch walked beside you, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot filling the brief silence. He couldn’t help but glance at you as you adjusted your dress, the soft fabric shifting gracefully as you moved.

“You look...” Hotch began, his voice quieter than usual. He cleared his throat, glancing ahead at the clusters of chairs. “You look incredible.”

You turned to him, surprised. “Hotch, was that a compliment? Are you feeling okay?”

He smirked, his lips twitching. “I’ve been meaning to tell you all day,” he admitted, his gaze steady now. “Just... took a bit of courage.”

Your playful grin faltered slightly, your eyes softening as they met his. There was a flicker of something in your expression—something unspoken, almost vulnerable. Before you could respond, a voice cut through the moment.

“Oh my God, is that you?”

You barely had time to turn before a woman approached, her enthusiasm unmistakable. She was around your age, with bright eyes and a warm smile that radiated familiarity.

“Wow, it’s been forever! How are you?” the woman gushed, pulling you into a quick hug.

Hotch stepped back slightly, his hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he watched the exchange.

“I’m good,” you replied, your voice friendly but a bit guarded. “Hotch, this is Taylor. We were in the same program in grad school. Taylor, this is Aaron Hotchner.”

Taylor’s eyes lit up as she turned to him, her smile widening. “Oh, Aaron. You must be her boyfriend!”

Hotch blinked, the words catching him off guard. He opened his mouth to respond but paused, glancing at you as you froze slightly, your lips parting as if to correct her. But something stopped you—curiosity, maybe, or hesitation.

Instead, Hotch smiled faintly, extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, his tone calm and composed, deliberately sidestepping the assumption.

Taylor shook his hand enthusiastically. “I’ve heard so much about this wedding. You’re both going to have such a great time! Anyway, I should grab my seat before I lose it. So good to see you again!”

She darted off, leaving the two of you standing there in her wake.

You turned to Hotch, your brow raised. “Boyfriend?” you asked quietly, your voice low enough that only he could hear.

Hotch glanced at you as the crowd began to settle into their seats, his expression calm but with a glint of dry humor in his eyes. “Is ‘boss’ better?”

Your lips quirked into a smirk as you shook your head, letting out a soft laugh. “Touché.”

The ceremony began before either of you could say more, but the weight of the word lingered between you. Hotch tried to focus on the officiant’s words, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the quiet murmurs of the gathered crowd. But his mind kept drifting back to your reaction—and to the flicker of a thought he didn’t dare voice.

Maybe the assumption wasn’t as far-fetched as it seemed.

Hotch settled into his seat beside you as the ceremony began, the soft murmur of conversation fading into a respectful silence. The bride and groom stood at the altar under an archway adorned with delicate flowers, the golden light of the late afternoon casting everything in a warm, dreamlike glow.

He tried to focus on the ceremony, the gentle cadence of the officiant’s voice blending with the rustle of the trees. But your presence beside him made it difficult.

The chairs were close together, the space between you almost nonexistent. He could feel the warmth of your arm just brushing against his, a subtle contact that sent a current through him more powerful than it should have. You shifted slightly, your knee brushing his, and Hotch held his breath for a moment, willing himself to remain composed.

When the officiant spoke about love—about commitment, vulnerability, and the courage it took to give yourself fully to another person—Hotch found himself watching your profile instead of the couple at the altar.

Your expression was soft; your lips curved into a faint smile as you listened. There was a light in your eyes, one that made his chest tighten unexpectedly. You looked beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just that. It was the way you seemed so present, so genuine, so effortlessly yourself.

And for a moment, he let himself imagine.

He imagined reaching for your hand, letting his fingers curl around yours in the quiet simplicity of the moment. He imagined what it might be like to sit beside you at a ceremony like this as something more—more than friends, more than colleagues. The thought was fleeting but potent, leaving a weight in his chest he couldn’t quite shake.

When the bride and groom exchanged their vows, their voices filled with emotion, Hotch stole a glance at you. A soft smile played on your lips, and you leaned forward slightly, your focus entirely on the couple.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you whispered, your voice so quiet he barely caught it.

He nodded, his throat tightening. “It is.”

Your gaze flicked to him briefly, your smile widening just a fraction before you returned your attention to the altar.

The ceremony continued, the romantic atmosphere growing thicker as the couple’s love story unfolded in front of the guests. When the bride’s voice cracked with emotion as she promised to love her partner for the rest of her life, Hotch’s gaze shifted back to you.

You were blinking quickly, your hands folded in your lap, and Hotch recognized the subtle effort to hold back tears. It was a side of you he rarely saw—vulnerable, unguarded—and it stirred something deep within him.

Without thinking, he let his knee press more firmly against yours, a quiet gesture of solidarity. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you tilted your head slightly toward him, your shoulder brushing his for just a moment.

By the time the ceremony ended, with cheers and applause filling the air as the bride and groom shared their first kiss, Hotch found himself acutely aware of every inch of space between you—of how close you were, yet still not close enough.

As you turned to him, your eyes bright with unshed tears and a soft smile lighting up your face, Hotch realized he’d never been less composed in his life.

The cocktail hour unfolded in the garden, a charming space strung with delicate fairy lights and buzzing with soft laughter and the clinking of glasses. Guests mingled near tables laden with hors d’oeuvres, the scent of fresh flowers mingling with the crisp evening air. Hotch stood by your side, his hands resting lightly in his pockets, watching as you stared out at the crowd, your expression thoughtful.

You hadn’t said much since the ceremony ended. It wasn’t like you to be quiet for so long, and he could see the internal battle playing out behind your eyes. Your shoulders were slightly tense, your gaze distant as you watched couples and old friends chatter happily around you.

“Everything okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You glanced up at him, your lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Hotch didn’t press. He knew you well enough to know that if you wanted to share, you would. So, he waited, his presence steady and unintrusive as you worked through whatever was on your mind.

Finally, you let out a soft sigh, leaning slightly against the high-top table between you. “You ever watch something beautiful—like that ceremony—and feel… I don’t know, happy for them, but also kind of… sad?”

He tilted his head, his brows furrowing slightly. “Sad?”

You nodded, your fingers idly tracing the rim of your glass. “Not for them, of course. They were perfect. It’s just…” You hesitated, then let the words spill out, your voice quieter. “It makes you wonder if that kind of thing is in the cards for you, you know? If someone could ever love you like that—unconditionally, fully. If someone would show up for you, every single time.”

Hotch’s chest tightened at your words. He could see the vulnerability in your eyes, the doubt you were trying so hard to mask. For a moment, he was at a loss for what to say—not because he didn’t know the answer, but because the truth came so quickly and easily that it startled him.

He straightened slightly, his voice steady as he replied, “It’ll happen for you. And when it does, the guy will be the luckiest man in the world.”

You froze, your glass halfway to your lips, your eyes snapping to his. The disbelief on your face caught him off guard, and he realized too late how much he’d revealed.

He cleared his throat, quickly adding, “Not that I’d know, of course. Divorced, widowed, single father—not exactly a stellar track record.” He offered a small, self-deprecating smirk. “I’m hardly an expert on what works.”

You blinked at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. The sound was light, genuine, and for a brief moment, Hotch felt a flicker of relief that he’d managed to deflect.

“Wow, Hotchner,” you said, your laughter fading into a warm smile. “Way to lift me up and immediately knock yourself down.”

“Just keeping things balanced,” he replied, his tone dry but his eyes warm.

You shook your head, still smiling, but he could see the wheels turning in your mind. Your expression softened, and for a moment, he wondered if you were going to say something else—something that might push the conversation back into deeper waters.

Before you could, a cheerful voice interrupted.

“Oh my God, there you are!”

Both of you turned to see a small group of your college and grad school friends approaching, their smiles wide and their arms outstretched as they greeted you enthusiastically.

Hotch stepped back slightly, letting you take center stage as they enveloped you in hugs and started chattering all at once. You lit up in their presence, your wit and charm on full display as you bantered back and forth with them effortlessly.

And though he stood quietly on the periphery, Hotch couldn’t help but smile. Watching you like this—vibrant, confident, and so fully yourself—he couldn’t imagine a world where someone wouldn’t see what he saw.

But as he met your gaze briefly across the group, catching the subtle flicker of something lingering in your eyes, he knew the conversation wasn’t over. Not yet.

The introductions at the cocktail party unfolded with an ease that surprised even Hotch. One by one, your old college and grad school friends greeted him, their initial curiosity about the date you brought quickly melting into admiration. He’d never thought of himself as particularly charming—polished and professional, yes, but charming? That was usually Morgan’s department.

But as he exchanged handshakes and polite banter, he could feel their approval growing. They teased you relentlessly about him, their questions playful and occasionally pointed. And you, ever quick-witted, deflected with a grace and humor that kept the mood light, though your blush betrayed you more than once.

“He’s even more put-together than you let on,” one of your friends teased, nudging your arm.

“Don’t let it fool you,” you replied, smirking at Hotch. “He’s secretly a pain.”

Hotch raised a brow, his tone dry but warm. “Only when necessary.”

The group laughed, and you glanced at him, your smile softening in a way that made the noise around him fade for just a moment.

If your friends noticed the subtle looks passing between you and Hotch—the way your eyes lingered on him or how his posture seemed to relax in your presence—they didn’t say anything outright. But their knowing smiles spoke volumes.

By the time the cocktail hour wound down and everyone was ushered toward the reception hall, Hotch felt more comfortable than he had in weeks. He hadn’t expected to enjoy himself, but with you by his side, the evening felt lighter, more vivid.

The reception began with all the hallmarks of a joyous celebration: a lively band, glasses clinking in toasts, and the soft glow of candles casting a romantic haze over the room. Hotch and you were seated at a round table with some of your friends, their easy chatter filling the gaps between the speeches and the plated courses.

At first, the chemistry between you and Hotch was subtle—a shared glance during the bride and groom’s first dance, the way his arm brushed yours as he leaned closer to hear you over the music. But as the evening progressed, it became impossible to ignore.

“Are you going to dance?” you asked, your tone teasing as you sipped your wine.

“Eventually,” he replied, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Are you?”

You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I don’t know. That depends. Are you going to make me dance alone?”

Hotch leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I’d never let you dance alone.”

The words hung between you, the air charged with something unspoken yet undeniable. For a moment, neither of you moved, your gazes locked in a way that made the noise of the room fade into the background.

One of your friends called your name, breaking the spell, and you turned with a quick laugh, brushing off the moment as though it hadn’t happened. But Hotch noticed the way your hand lingered on your wine glass, the slight flush creeping up your neck.

As the reception continued, the moments between you grew bolder. A comment from you that lingered just long enough to feel intimate. A brush of his hand against yours as you both reached for something on the table. The way his gaze followed you when you stepped away to talk to someone else, his focus sharper, more intent than he realized.

By the time the band struck up a slower tune, Hotch found himself standing, offering you his hand before he could think twice.

“Care to dance?” he asked, his voice steady but softer than usual.

You blinked up at him, surprised for only a moment before your lips curved into a smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

As you took his hand and allowed him to guide you onto the dance floor, Hotch felt a quiet certainty settle over him. Whatever lines had existed between you—coworkers, friends, allies—were beginning to blur. And for once, he wasn’t in a hurry to redraw them.

Hotch turned to face you, his other hand resting lightly at your waist as you settled your free hand on his shoulder. The contact was light at first, almost cautious, but as the music swelled, he felt you relax, your movements fluid as you let him guide you through the gentle rhythm.

“You weren’t kidding about being a good dancer,” you teased, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “Where’ve you been hiding this talent?”

Hotch smirked faintly, his lips twitching upward. “It’s a rare occasion that calls for it.”

“Well,” you said, your voice soft but tinged with mischief, “consider me impressed.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his focus shifting briefly to the way your hand fit so perfectly in his, the way your eyes lit up even under the dim glow of the candles. Finally, he said, “You should be. I don’t make exceptions for just anyone.”

Your laugh was quiet, a warm ripple that he felt as much as heard. “Is that right? I should feel honored then.”

“You should,” he replied, the faintest hint of a smile still playing at his lips.

The conversation lulled, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The silence felt full, weighted by the unspoken tension that had been simmering all day. You swayed together, your movements perfectly synchronized, and for a moment, Hotch allowed himself to forget everything else—the cases, the team, the boundaries he usually held so firmly in place.

As the music slowed further, you tilted your head, your eyes searching his. “What are you thinking?”

Hotch hesitated, his gaze holding yours for a beat too long. “That you shouldn’t doubt what’s in store for you,” he said quietly. “Not after today.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “What do you mean?”

He paused, considering his words carefully. “You deserve what you saw at that ceremony. Someone who shows up, who doesn’t hesitate. And when it happens, it’ll be because they know just how lucky they are.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, he thought you might pull away. Instead, you blinked up at him, your expression unreadable but undeniably softer. “Hotch—”

Before you could finish, the music swelled into its final notes, the moment broken as the song came to an end. Couples around you began to clap politely, the spell of the dance slowly lifting.

You stepped back slightly, your hand lingering in his for just a moment longer than necessary. “Thank you,” you said, your voice quiet but sincere.

Hotch nodded, his throat tight. “Anytime.”

As you turned to head back to the table, Hotch stayed where he was for a moment, watching the way your shoulders seemed a little more relaxed, the way you glanced back at him briefly before rejoining your friends.

He exhaled slowly, his hands falling to his sides. Whatever line you’d both been toeing all evening had grown impossibly blurred, and he wasn’t sure if it was something to step back from—or cross entirely.

The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded Hotch as he followed you back toward the table, the energy of the reception lively yet intimate. Before either of you could sit, the bride approached, her radiant smile lighting up the room. Her white gown swayed slightly as she moved, the sparkling embellishments catching the light.

“There you are!” the bride exclaimed, her voice warm and effusive as she wrapped you in a quick hug. “I’ve been looking for you all evening.”

“Hi, Annie,” you said, your tone fond as you pulled back. “You look stunning. Everything about today has been absolutely perfect.”

Annie beamed, her hands clasping yours. “Thank you. But ook at you! And you must be...” She turned to Hotch, her expression curious and eager.

“This is—” you began, but Annie cut you off before you could finish.

“Oh, I knew it!” Annie said, clapping her hands together and glancing between you and Hotch with unrestrained glee. “I always said you’d find someone who looks at you the way he does. You deserve it so much. After everything you’ve been through. Terrible guy after terrible guy. I’m so happy for you.”

Hotch froze for a fraction of a second, her words catching him completely off guard. He glanced at you, noting the way your eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up your neck.

Annie, oblivious to the tension she’d just created, kept going. “I mean, honestly, it’s about time. Look at you two—you’re such a beautiful couple. And the way he watches you? Like you’re the only person in the room? Come on.”

Hotch’s lips parted, his usual composure slipping as he scrambled for a response. Should he correct her? Deflect? Or...

Instead, he did neither.

“You’re right about one thing,” he said, his voice steady but quieter, as if weighing each word carefully. “She deserves everything. More than anyone I know.”

His gaze lingered on you as he spoke, watching the way your expression softened into something he couldn’t quite name. For a moment, Annie’s chatter faded into the background, the room seeming to grow smaller around the three of you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Annie’s delighted laughter filled the silence first. “See? I knew it,” she said, her tone triumphant. “I knew you’d get that fairytale ending you always talked about wanting.”

Hotch smiled faintly, his hands slipping into his pockets as Annie hugged you again. “Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice still warm as she pulled away. “It means so much to have you both here.”

You nodded, your voice unusually soft. “Of course, Annie. We wouldn’t have missed it.”

Annie turned back to the dance floor, leaving the two of you standing there, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You glanced at him, your brows knitting together slightly as if you wanted to ask something but weren’t sure where to start. He’s sure from the array of comments he’s thrown at you tonight or the charged energy building between you, you must have a few.

Hotch offered a small smile, his voice low. “She’s a good friend.”

“She’s... enthusiastic,” you said, a weak laugh escaping you.

“Enthusiastic,” he repeated, amusement flickering briefly across his face. “And observant, apparently.”

Your blush deepened, but before the conversation could go any further, another group of your friends waved you over from the bar, calling your name.

“I guess we’re popular tonight,” you said, your tone lighter as you gestured for him to follow.

Hotch nodded, trailing behind you, but his thoughts lingered on Annie’s words. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to agree with her so openly, but as he watched you laugh with your friends, something told him he wasn’t wrong.

You deserved everything. And perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn’t impossible to imagine being the one to give it to you. He was just glad he could try, even if it was just for tonight.

The energy in the room shifted as the bride announced the bouquet toss, her cheerful voice drawing a crowd of eager participants to the dance floor. Laughter and playful shouts filled the space as single women jostled for prime positions, their eyes gleaming with competitive determination.

You, however, stayed firmly rooted at the edge of the room, leaning casually against a table with your arms crossed. Hotch stood beside you, holding the glass he was nursing on the table.

“Not interested?” he asked, glancing at you, a teasing flint in his eyes.

“Not a chance,” you replied, your tone wry. “I’m perfectly fine over here, out of the line of fire.”

Hotch chuckled softly. “Strategic decision. I can respect that.”

You grinned, turning your attention back to the bride, who was hyping up the crowd with exaggerated gestures. The band struck up a playful tune, and the anticipation in the room reached its peak as Annie turned her back to the group, bouquet in hand.

The toss was dramatic, the bouquet soaring high into the air in a perfect arc. The crowd erupted into shouts and cheers as hands shot up, grasping for the bundle of flowers.

But no one caught it.

Instead, the bouquet ricocheted off a hand, sailed over the group entirely, and arced straight toward you.

You barely had time to react before it bonked you squarely on the head.

Hotch blinked, momentarily stunned as the bouquet bounced off you and landed unceremoniously on the table beside you. There was a beat of silence before laughter erupted around the room, the crowd clearly amused by the unexpected trajectory.

You stared at the bouquet, your mouth slightly agape, before looking up at him, your expression caught somewhere between mortification and disbelief.

“Seriously?” you said, your voice rising just enough to carry over the laughter. “I wasn’t even participating!”

Hotch’s lips twitched, his amusement barely contained as he raised an eyebrow. “Looks like fate had other plans.”

“Fate needs to work on its aim,” you muttered, grabbing the bouquet and holding it up like evidence in a court case.

Hotch allowed himself a full laugh, the sound rare but genuine. “Or maybe it’s trying to tell you something,” he teased, his voice lower as he leaned slightly closer. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, though the corners of your mouth betrayed the start of a grin. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Immensely,” he said, his tone deadpan but his eyes gleaming with humor.

You shook your head, muttering something about cosmic irony as you placed the bouquet back on the table. But Hotch could see the faint blush creeping up your neck, and the way your lips curved into a reluctant smile despite your feigned indignation.

As the laughter in the room began to settle and the bride called for the next event, Hotch leaned slightly closer to you, his voice quieter now.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, his tone softer but no less teasing, “I think the roses suit you.” He pulled a few petals from your hair.

You shot him a look, but your smile widened, and for a brief moment, the space between you felt smaller than ever. “I’m more of a sunflower girl,” You played along.

The band’s leader tapped the microphone, his cheerful voice cutting through the chatter of the reception. “All right, folks, this one’s for the happy couples out there! Join us on the dance floor for one last dance before we call it a night.”

Around the room, couples began to rise, hands intertwined as they made their way to the dance floor. The lights dimmed slightly, casting the space in a warm, golden glow. Hotch stayed in his seat, his gaze drifting to you as you sipped the last of your wine, clearly intent on remaining at the table.

He set his glass down with deliberate precision and stood, extending his hand toward you.

“Come on,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

You looked up at him, your brow furrowing. “What are you doing?”

“We’re dancing,” he replied simply, his tone leaving little room for argument.

Your lips parted in surprise. “Hotch, that’s for couples—”

“According to your friends,” he interrupted, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk, “we’re a couple tonight. Might as well play the part.”

For a moment, you stared at him, clearly torn between amusement and incredulity. But then you sighed, setting your glass down and placing your hand in his. “Fine,” you said, standing with exaggerated reluctance. “But if this ends up being another metaphor, I’m blaming you.”

Hotch chuckled softly, leading you to the dance floor. The band struck up a slow, tender melody, the kind that wrapped itself around you and seemed to quiet the world.

He turned to face you, his hand resting lightly on your waist as you settled your free hand on his shoulder. The contact was familiar now, but this time, the air between you felt heavier—charged. You moved together effortlessly, swaying in time with the music, your steps perfectly in sync.

“See?” he said quietly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Not so bad.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, your fingers tightening slightly on his shoulder. “You really are impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, his tone dry but his expression softer than usual.

The conversation lulled, and for a moment, there was nothing but the music and the quiet sound of your breaths mingling in the space between you.

Hotch’s eyes dropped to your face, taking in the way your lashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks, the faint flush that lingered from the evening’s laughter and wine. You looked up at him then, your gaze meeting his, and the intensity of the moment hit him like a wave.

“You’re staring,” you said softly, your voice tinged with nervous amusement.

He didn’t look away. “Maybe I am.”

Your breath hitched, and Hotch felt your hand shift slightly on his shoulder as though you were steadying yourself. The tension between you was palpable now, a tangible thing that neither of you seemed willing—or able—to break.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” you said, your tone quieter now, almost tentative.

Hotch’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “So are you.”

The song began to wind down, the final notes stretching into a soft, lingering cadence. The room seemed to grow smaller, quieter, as though it held only the two of you.

As the music ended, Hotch realized he hadn’t let go of your waist, and you hadn’t stepped back. For a brief, breathless moment, you both stayed where you were, the silence between you heavy with possibilities.

And though neither of you said it aloud, the line between what you were and what you could be had never felt thinner.

The walk back to the hotel room was quiet, the air between you and Hotch humming with the kind of unspoken tension that had lingered all night. The elevator ride was no better; you stood beside him, close enough that your arm brushed his, and though neither of you spoke, the weight of the evening seemed to settle in the confined space.

By the time the door to the room clicked shut behind you, the silence was thick. You slipped off your shoes with a sigh, placing them neatly by the door as you turned to him with a tired but genuine smile.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “that was... something.”

Hotch nodded, setting his jacket neatly over the back of a chair. “It was.”

You glanced at him, your smile tilting into something teasing. “That’s all you’ve got? Just ‘it was’?”

He smirked faintly, loosening his tie. “I think the bouquet toss and the dance floor antics speak for themselves.”

You laughed, the sound warm and familiar, and Hotch felt his shoulders relax slightly despite the tension coursing through him. He watched as you moved to your bag, pulling out a pair of comfortable clothes before disappearing into the bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the room, and Hotch took the opportunity to change into a plain T-shirt and sweats, folding his dress shirt with precise care. When you returned, your makeup washed off, and your hair pulled back, you looked softer somehow—more yourself than you had all night, and it hit him with a quiet force he wasn’t prepared for. Sure, he’d seen you in casual clothes before, but something about the soft cotton clothes, the clean face, and the messy pulled-back hair…it was a sight that warmed him somehow.

“You’re up,” you said, gesturing toward the bathroom.

Hotch nodded, slipping past you and closing the door behind him. The cool water against his face did little to calm his thoughts, and when he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he found his usual composure slightly fractured.

By the time he returned to the room, you were already under the covers, your head resting against the pillow as you scrolled absentmindedly through your phone. He hesitated for a moment, the sight of you there—so comfortable, so familiar—stirring something deep in his chest.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” you asked, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he moved to the other side of the bed. Sliding in beside you, he was acutely aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you. When was the last time he shared a bed with someone?

The room fell into a soft silence, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting long shadows against the walls. You set your phone down, turning onto your side to face him, your expression unreadable but open.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said quietly. “For coming with me. For... everything.”

He met your gaze, his voice steady but softer than usual. “You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to be there.”

Your lips quirked into a faint smile, your eyes searching his as though you were trying to decipher something you weren’t quite ready to name.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence stretching but never feeling uncomfortable. Hotch could feel the warmth of your presence, the subtle weight of your gaze, and it was enough to make his throat tighten.

“You’re staring again,” you said, your tone light but tinged with something quieter, something unsure.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught, and Hotch felt the space between you shrink—not physically, but emotionally, the air thick with everything unspoken.

“Why do you do that?” you asked after a moment, your voice quieter now.

“Do what?”

“Look at me like that.”

Hotch hesitated, his throat tightening as he searched for the right words. “Like what?”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Like you’re trying to figure me out. Like you already know something I don’t.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, his voice soft but steady. “Maybe I do.”

You blinked, your breath catching just slightly, and Hotch felt the air between you grow impossibly still.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence crackling with tension that neither seemed willing to break. Then, as if pulling yourself out of the moment, you let out a small laugh, your tone turning lighter.

“You’re an enigma, Aaron Hotchner,” you said, your smile faint but genuine as you turned onto your back, breaking the spell.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he reached over to turn off the lamp. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful.

“Goodnight,” you replied softly, your words carrying a warmth that settled over the room like a blanket.

As the darkness enveloped them, Hotch lay still, the steady sound of your breathing filling the silence. The unspoken connection between you—the moments that had lingered and stretched throughout the evening—felt as tangible as the bed they shared.

And though he knew crossing the line between friendship and something more was fraught with uncertainty, Hotch couldn’t shake the quiet realization that maybe—just maybe—you were worth the risk.

Hotch stirred awake in the dark, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains casting soft shadows across the room. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what had woken him—a sound, a shift—but then he became aware of the warmth pressed against him, the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

Somehow, in the night, the two of you had gravitated toward each other. His arm was draped over your waist, his hand resting lightly on your hip, and your head was nestled against his chest. Your hand, delicate and warm, had found its way to his side, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him.

He froze, his breath hitching as he registered the intimacy of the moment. Every instinct told him to pull away, to put space between you before you woke up, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

The soft scent of your hair drifted up to him, and without thinking, his thumb began to trace small, absent circles against your side. The simple act sent a rush of warmth through him, a tenderness he couldn’t quite contain.

You stirred slightly, your body shifting just enough for him to realize you were waking up. His breath caught again, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he waited—half expecting you to pull away or panic.

But you didn’t. Instead, you tilted your head up, your eyes blinking sleepily in the dim light as they met his.

Neither of you spoke. The silence between you was thick, electric, the air charged with a tension that felt almost unbearable.

Hotch’s hand stilled on your side, his palm now resting against the curve of your hip. He watched you closely, his eyes searching yours for any sign that he should pull back. But you didn’t move away. If anything, you seemed to lean into him, your gaze softening as you stared at him in the quiet.

His chest tightened as he felt the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. The feelings he’d been trying to push aside for months—years, maybe—were suddenly impossible to ignore.

And then, you moved.

Your hand slid upward, hesitating briefly before coming to rest against his chest. Slowly, tentatively, you shifted closer, your lips brushing his in a kiss so soft it sent a shiver down his spine.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the kiss tender and delicate, as though you were both testing the boundaries of something fragile and new. But then he felt your hand tighten against his chest, and his restraint broke.

Hotch deepened the kiss, his free hand sliding up your back to cradle the base of your neck, his fingers threading gently through your hair. Your lips parted for him, and the kiss grew more heated, more insistent, as though all the tension that had built between you over the years was finally finding its release.

You shifted closer still, your body pressing against his, and Hotch couldn’t help the quiet sound that escaped him. He felt your hand slide up to his jaw, your fingers brushing against the stubble there as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss even further.

It was slow but consuming, a meeting of everything unspoken and everything undeniable. He couldn’t tell where he ended, and you began, the lines between friendship and something more completely and utterly erased.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the dark, your forehead rested against his as you looked up at him with wide, searching eyes.

“Aaron,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady, filled with something he couldn’t quite name.

He swallowed hard, his fingers still tangled in your hair, as he let out a shaky breath. “Say my name like that again,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles.

You laughed softly, your hand brushing against his cheek as you leaned in again, this time with more certainty.

And as your lips met his once more, Hotch felt the last of his walls crumble, leaving only the quiet, undeniable truth: he didn’t want to hold back anymore. Not with you. Not ever.

Hotch’s pulse quickened as your lips met his again, this time with a heat that left no room for hesitation. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate but charged with the kind of intensity that came from years of unspoken longing. Your hand slid from his jaw to his chest, your fingers splaying against the fabric of his shirt as if grounding yourself in the moment.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The world outside this room ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the dim light of the night.

When your leg shifted, brushing against his, a low sound escaped his throat—a soft, guttural hum that he hadn’t meant to let slip. You froze for the briefest moment, your eyes flicking up to his, and the sight of you—so close, so vulnerable, so his in that instant—was almost too much.

“Is this okay?” you whispered, your voice breathless and tinged with something fragile, like you were teetering on the edge of disbelief.

Hotch cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he nodded. “It’s more than okay,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You smiled softly, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, pressing another kiss to your lips. This one was slower but no less fervent, his hand sliding from your face to rest against the curve of your waist, pulling you closer.

Your body shifted against his, your hands wandering—tentative at first, but quickly growing bolder. One hand curled around the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in the short hairs there, while the other slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, your palm pressing against the warm skin of his chest.

Hotch’s breath hitched, his own hands growing less restrained as they skimmed your back, tracing the line of your spine. The soft, sleepy rhythm of your breathing was broken by quiet, barely audible gasps as his hands found the curve of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

“Aaron,” you murmured against his lips, the sound of his name sending a shiver down his spine.

His lips left yours, trailing a path along your jawline to the soft curve of your neck. He felt the way your body arched into his touch, the subtle press of your hips against his igniting something deeper, something he could no longer hold back.

“You have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, his voice low and uneven, “how long I’ve wanted this.”

Your fingers tightened against him, and when he pulled back to look at you, your eyes were glassy, your lips slightly parted. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His restraint was unraveling with every second, every touch, every soft sound that escaped your lips. But he forced himself to pause, his forehead resting against yours as he took a steadying breath.

“Tell me to stop,” he said softly, his hands stilling against your waist even as every fiber of his being begged him to keep going. “If you need me to, I will.”

You shook your head slightly, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned up to kiss him again, slow but filled with unmistakable intent. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, the words a quiet promise.

Hotch exhaled shakily, his lips capturing yours again as he shifted, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. The weight of you pressed against him, the warmth of your skin beneath his hands—it was everything he hadn’t let himself dream of, and now that it was happening, he couldn’t imagine ever letting it go.

The kisses grew more urgent, more consuming, the sleepy haze between you dissolving into something sharper, hungrier. His hands roamed your body with a reverence that bordered on worship, memorizing every curve, every tremble, every quiet sigh that spilled from your lips.

Hotch’s breath hitched as you shifted over him, your hands braced on his chest for balance. The delicate weight of you, your thighs straddling his hips, was intoxicating in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Pressing your center against him, a breathy groan left his lips. His hands found their way to your waist, his fingers splaying across the soft fabric of your shirt as though memorizing every detail of this moment.

Your hair fell slightly into your face, and you looked down at him with a mixture of nervousness and desire that sent his pulse hammering in his chest. He met your gaze, his eyes dark and searching, trying to convey everything he felt but couldn’t say aloud.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, the words a quiet plea for confirmation. He knew after this there was no going back.

You nodded, your smile soft but steady as you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was equal parts tender and heated. “I’ve never been more sure,” you whispered against his mouth.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate at first, but quickly growing more fervent. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping him as though anchoring yourself to him, while his hands slid upward, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the side.

For a moment, he simply looked at you, his gaze tracing the lines of your body, the soft glow of the moonlight making your skin seem almost ethereal. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

You flushed under his gaze, but instead of shying away, you leaned down, kissing him again with a new intensity. Your hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward until he helped you remove it entirely. The cool air brushed against his skin, but all he could focus on was the warmth of you, the way your touch left a trail of fire in its wake.

As the last remnants of clothing were shed, the barrier between you dissolved entirely. You settled back over him, your bare skin pressing against his, and he let out a low, shaky exhale as his hands gripped your hips, steadying you.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion as he looked up at you.

You smiled softly, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned down to kiss him again, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every moment. “I think I’m starting to figure it out,” you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with a quiet confidence that made his chest tighten.

Hotch’s hands guided your movements, his touch firm but reverent, as though you were something precious—something he didn’t want to break. The connection between you was electric, every touch, every kiss deepening the bond that had been building for years.

As your bodies moved together, the world around you faded completely, leaving only the quiet hum of your shared breaths and the unspoken promise that whatever had changed between you tonight was something neither of you could—or would—ever take back.

As you rocked against him, his breath hitched, and he couldn’t stop the quiet groan that escaped him. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his hands cupping your face as he pulled you down into a kiss that was as tender as it was consuming.

When you pulled back, your gaze locked with his, your expression soft but filled with intensity. “I never knew it could feel like this,” you admitted, your voice quiet but raw with emotion.

He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he whispered, “Neither did I.”

The words hung between you for a moment, the weight of them adding a new depth to the passion that had overtaken you. And as you moved together, Hotch felt a sense of completeness that he hadn’t known he was missing—something he realized, in this moment, he could never let go of.

Hotch’s breath came in uneven gasps, his body attuned to every shift of yours, every quiet sound that spilled from your lips. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to guide you, to hold you steady as you moved together.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured again, his voice thick and low. His eyes traced the line of your jaw, the way your lips parted as you moved, your body responding to his in a way that made his pulse race.

Your hand slid up his chest, your fingers curling lightly around the base of his neck as you leaned closer. “I don’t think you realize,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion, “what you’re doing to me.”

His lips curved into a faint, breathless smirk as he leaned up, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was deep and consuming. “I think I have an idea,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing it.”

You laughed quietly, the sound trailing off into a soft sigh as his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. “You make it hard to think,” you admitted, your tone teasing but edged with something deeper, more vulnerable.

“Good,” he replied, his hands shifting to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “Because right now, all I can think about is you.”

Your eyes met his, and the intensity of your gaze made his chest tighten. “I want this,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I want you.”

Hotch exhaled shakily, his forehead resting against yours as he slowed your movements, savoring the connection between you. “You have me,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “You’ve always had me.”

Your lips parted as if to respond, but instead, you kissed him again, your fingers threading through his hair as you pressed closer, deeper, until there was no space left between you.

The rhythm between you was slow but deliberate, each movement, each touch, carrying a weight that neither of you could ignore. It wasn’t just passion—it was everything you hadn’t said, every unspoken feeling finally given form.

When you pulled back slightly, your breath brushing against his lips, Hotch found himself gripping your hips just a little tighter, grounding himself in the reality of you above him. Your skin glowed in the faint moonlight, and the look in your eyes—dark, heavy with desire—took what little restraint he had left and shattered it.

“Aaron Hotchner,” you whispered, your voice breathless, a mix of teasing and reverence. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

He let out a low, quiet laugh, his hands sliding up your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate lines. “I could say the same about you,” he murmured, his voice rough as his lips brushed the curve of your jaw.

You shivered under his touch, your lips curling into a small, wicked smile. “Are you saying I’m full of surprises?” you asked, your tone playful, your hips rolling against his in a way that made his breath catch.

Hotch let out a soft groan, his head tipping back against the pillow as his hands found their way to your thighs. “I’m saying,” he said, his voice low and filled with heat, “that you might just be the death of me.”

You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, teasing him with the barest of touches. “I guess that makes us even,” you whispered, your words trailing off into a kiss that was anything but tentative.

The kiss deepened, your movements growing slower, more deliberate as your hands roamed over him, pulling him impossibly closer. Hotch’s fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his other hand tracing the curve of your back in a way that made you arch into him.

“You feel incredible,” he breathed against your lips, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “Like you were made for me.”

As the room filled with nothing but the quiet sound of your breaths and the faint rustle of sheets, Hotch couldn’t help but marvel at how natural this felt—how right it was to have you like this, in his arms, every unspoken word replaced by the undeniable connection between you.

And as the tension between you reached its peak, he realized with startling clarity that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment—this was something neither of you could ever undo. And he didn’t want to.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Your face was still buried against his neck, and he could feel the rapid thrum of your heartbeat gradually slowing against his chest. Hotch tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as he tried to find the right words for what he was feeling.

It wasn’t fleeting. It wasn’t casual. It was something far deeper, something he hadn’t allowed himself to believe he could feel again.

You stirred slightly, shifting so you could meet his gaze, your hair falling messily around your face. Your eyes searched his, and the vulnerability there—soft and unguarded—made his throat tighten.

“Well,” you murmured, your voice quiet but tinged with a nervous laugh, “that just happened.”

Hotch’s lips twitched into a faint smile, his thumb brushing lazily against your back. “It did,” he replied softly, his voice steady despite the emotions threatening to bubble to the surface.

You blinked down at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice carrying a hesitance that tugged at his heart.

He shifted beneath you, his hands settling on your hips as he met your gaze. “I’m more than okay,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “Are you?”

Your lips parted slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes as though trying to read him. Slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Yeah,” you said softly, nodding. “I think I am.”

The tension in his chest eased slightly, but his thumb continued its soothing motion against your hip. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t—” He paused, exhaling quietly. “I don’t want this to be something you regret.”

“Regret?” you echoed, your smile widening faintly. “Hotch, do I look like someone who regrets this?”

He let out a quiet huff of laughter, his fingers tightening slightly against your skin. “No,” he admitted, his voice lighter now. “But I had to make sure.”

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss so soft it made his chest tighten all over again. “You’re impossible,” you whispered against his mouth, your tone teasing but filled with affection.

“And yet, here we are,” he replied, his lips curving into a smirk as he kissed you again.

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his as your hands slid to his shoulders, your touch light and lingering. “Here we are,” you repeated, your voice quieter now, almost reflective.

Hotch let the silence stretch for a moment, his hands tracing gentle patterns along your sides as he memorized the feel of you against him. Whatever this was—whatever it had turned into—he wasn’t going to let it slip away.

“You should probably get some sleep,” he murmured, his voice tinged with humor as he glanced toward the faint glow of the bedside clock.

“Sleep?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you shifted slightly, your lips brushing against his jaw. “After all that? I’m not sure that’s possible.”

Hotch chuckled softly, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You grinned, leaning into his touch as your eyes softened. “Good. You should.”

As the quiet settled over the room once more, Hotch let his eyes drift closed, your body still pressed against his, your warmth anchoring him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was here and now, with you.

Hotch wasn’t sure how much time had passed, the quiet rhythm of your breathing against his chest blurring the line between minutes and hours. His hand rested against your back, his fingers tracing slow, idle patterns along your skin, grounding himself in the reality of your presence.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured after a while, your voice soft and drowsy, the words more of a thought spoken aloud than a question.

He glanced down at you, your head still resting on his chest, your hand lazily draped over his ribs. “I’m just... thinking,” he admitted, his voice low, the weight of the night settling over him in a way that felt both overwhelming and comforting.

You tilted your head up to look at him, your expression sleepy but curious. “About what?”

His fingers paused for a moment, resting lightly against your side. “About how different this feels,” he said honestly, his eyes meeting yours. “How right it feels.”

Your lips parted slightly, your expression softening into something vulnerable, open. “It does,” you agreed quietly, your hand sliding up to rest against his chest. “It scares me a little.”

Hotch’s chest tightened at your words, but he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It scares me too,” he admitted, his voice steady but filled with quiet emotion. “But not enough to make me stop.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers tracing small circles against his skin. “What does this mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “For us?”

Hotch exhaled, his hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It means I don’t want to go back to what we had before,” he said softly. “Not after this.”

You blinked up at him, the weight of his words settling between you. “Me neither,” you said after a moment, your voice carrying a quiet strength.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the unspoken understanding between you growing stronger with each passing second. Hotch shifted slightly, pulling you closer against him, his arm wrapping around your waist as if to keep you there, to keep this moment from slipping away.

Your fingers curled against his chest, and you tilted your head up, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was softer now, slower, as though sealing the unspoken promise you’d just made.

When you pulled back, your eyes searched his, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I guess we’ll figure it out,” you said softly, the words carrying a quiet certainty that made his chest tighten.

“We will,” he replied, his voice low but firm.

Hotch lay awake long after you’d drifted off, your body warm and relaxed against his. The weight of what had happened between you lingered in the air, a heady mix of tenderness and an undeniable shift in the foundation of your relationship.

He let his fingers trace idle patterns along your back, his touch feather-light as he memorized the curve of your spine, the subtle rise and fall of your breathing. For years, he’d been disciplined in keeping the boundaries of your friendship intact, maintaining the line that separated what was and what could never be. But tonight, that line had dissolved completely, leaving in its wake something deeper, something that felt achingly right.

You stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh as you nestled closer to him, your hand sliding across his chest as though instinctively seeking him even in sleep. His chest tightened, a quiet warmth spreading through him as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

He’d spent so much of his life thinking he wasn’t allowed to have this—not after everything he’d been through, not after the sacrifices he’d made. But with you, it didn’t feel like he was taking something he wasn’t entitled to. It felt like finding something he hadn’t realized he’d been searching for all along.

Tomorrow would bring its own questions, its own complications. The team would notice the shift between you, and the world wouldn’t wait for you both to navigate whatever this had become. But for now, in the quiet sanctuary of the room, with you tucked safely against him, Hotch allowed himself to just be.

And as the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, he held you a little closer, silently vowing that whatever came next, he would be ready. Because for the first time in a long time, he felt whole. And he wasn’t about to let that go

Hotch’s gaze lingered on your sleeping face, soft and unguarded in the early light. A quiet determination settled in his chest, stronger than anything he’d felt in years. You deserved to know—without question or hesitation—that you were worth everything. Worth the quiet moments and the stormy ones, the laughter and the tears, the time and the effort. Any man too blind or foolish to see that had only done him a favor, because now, you were here with him. And he would never take that for granted. He would make sure, every single day, that you never doubted your worth again. Because with you, Hotch finally understood what it meant to have something—and someone—he could never let go. And he wouldn’t let you forget it.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

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drunkinyourbenz · 2 months ago

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IF YOU'RE GONNA LIE, DO IT IN MY BED

☆ SYNOPSIS: billie kept lying to your face, but when she looked at you like that, you didn't really have it in you to care. you did, however, have it in you to push her further by being a brat. ☆ PART TWO ☆ RELATIONSHIP: dom!billie eilish x fem!bratty!reader ☆ WARNINGS: SMUT, mean billie (oops), reader is a tiny bit pathetic, bratty reader, situationship/fwb, angry sex (kind of?), crying, established safe word (not used), strap-on, oral on a strap-on, deepthroating, gagging, oral, overstimulation, squirting, degradation, praise, petnames (pretty girl, baby, ma, etc.) name calling (slut, whore, brat, etc.), choking, hair pulling, humiliation, dumbification, billie is so condescending in this, toxic dynamic. ☆ NOTE: sorry babes i've been totally off the grid, writing this when i should be studying calculus lmao!! this is long as hell i'm so sorry i got carried away 😭 title from the song ‘guess we lied…’ by fletcher. this is oxytocin billie at her finest btw!! also situationship/fwb billie has me in a chokehold !! also i'm on my period rn lmaooo ☆ WORD COUNT: 4.8k words

you’d been in a friends with benefits situation with billie for roughly the past four months, but you’d known each other for far longer. billie was too busy for a proper relationship, so the past four months had been all hotel rendezvous and stolen kisses, but no real commitment.

billie would always fuck you better than anyone else could, and you'd be left alone in a cold and empty bed the next morning. she knew how to treat a girl, that was for sure, she was just emotionally unavailable. she needed someone who didn’t need her to actually be present in their life, just there for a good time when she felt like it.

of course, that was where you came in—you and the countless other girls she had wrapped around her finger. there had been many girls throughout the years, but rumour had it, most of them were gone after less than a month. that knowledge gave you an addictive feeling of importance, something that kept you coming back for more. you might mean nothing to her, but you meant more than the others did.

you’d planned to meet up today, but billie was late—of course she was.

she’d been at a party—of course she had.

chances were, she’d been out fucking one of the many other girls she had totally entrapped in her siren-like charm—she told you that you were her favourite, but you weren’t sure you believed her. she probably told every single girl she fucked that, she just happened to keep you around for longer than most.

so she stumbled into the hotel room she’d told you to meet her in, forty five minutes late, a resting frown on her face as she kicked off her shoes upon entering the room. you look up from where you sat on the bed scrolling your phone, raising an eyebrow.

“late again, where were you?” your voice didn’t sound accusatory, simply curious, but you were accusing her of something, and she knew it.

she shrugged casually, her face still set in that slight scowl. “a party, it’s not important.”

she was clearly in a bad mood, but you didn’t really have it in you to care. her bad mood was no excuse to leave you hanging for almost an hour. you laughed dryly. “next time, just cancel. i don’t care if you don’t want to see me, that’s fine. just don’t leave me waiting here for you to show up.”

billie rolls her eyes slightly, through her eyes, it genuinely didn’t matter, and it was irrational for you to be this annoyed. the two of you weren’t dating, she did this with so many other girls, you weren’t special. “god, you’re so dramatic. it was just a party, it’s not a big deal.”

you let out a soft scoff, “i don’t care that it was a party. just let me know next time so that i don’t sit alone in an empty hotel room for almost an hour looking like an absolute loser.”

“i meant to get here on time.”

“don’t lie to me, i know that if you mean to do something, you do it.” which was true. if billie actually wanted to do something, she found a way to do it.

billie raises an eyebrow, “you’re being a brat.”

you bite back another scoff, but can’t stop yourself from snapping back at her. “and you’re being a bitch.”

something seemed to change in billie’s eyes then, one of her eyebrows raising as she took a few steps towards you. you almost instinctively took a step back, a reminder of the control she had over you even when you were trying to be mad at her.

her eyes were a fraction darker than they had been before, her sharp blue eyes fixated on you as she kept waking forward, backing you towards the hotel bed without even touching you—that was the power she held over you.

“i’m being a bitch? hm, interesting. you don’t look like you think i’m a bitch, you look like you want me to fuck you.” her voice was smooth and level, but there was a sort of harsh bite to it, a warning, foreshadowing for what was to come.

you couldn’t even deny it, not really. you wanted to deny it, but she was right. you did want her to fuck you, despite how little she clearly cared about your feelings right now.

she took a step closer again, and you felt the back of your knees hit the mattress—you hadn’t even been aware of stepping that far back. she watched you closely, a calculating look in her eyes.

“so? you gonna say it, or what? i know you waited around for a reason.”

again, she was right. why else you have waited around for almost forty five minutes? no one fucked you like she did, and you could tell she knew it, from the smug smirk that always painted her lips when she was fucking into you with her strap. god, she could be so cocky sometimes, the knowledge that she was so incredibly hot was a little too powerful for her.

when you thought about it, it was kind of pathetic that you’d actually waited around for forty five minutes. like, who does that? why had you sat alone in the hotel room, waiting for her in the silence? why hadn’t you walked out after twenty minutes and gone to the party where your friends were probably drunk off their faces—the party that you had skipped because you already had plans. plans with billie.

you’d waited around for forty five minutes, and you knew full well that you weren’t going to get her to have a mature conversation. so, you concluded, you might as well make the wait worth it, and let her fuck you. and if you were going to get fucked, it might as well be good.

so, when you spoke, you kept the slightly snarky tone. “obviously, why else would i have waited around for so long?”

she saw the bratty look in your eyes, and her eyes darkened further. she clearly wasn’t in a great mood, and needed a way to blow off steam—your brattiness was giving her exactly that, an outlet. she huffed, grabbing your jaw tighter as she stared at you. she pushed you so you fell onto your back on the bed, landing with a slight impact on the soft mattress. she crawled on top of you so she was straddling your hips, one of her hands coming to wrap around your neck, pressing down to give you just the right amount of pressure. it was a warning, but you weren’t at all worried.

“watch your fuckin’ tone, ma. and don’t look at me like that. you’re a brat today, aren’t you?”

you caught the slight sparkle in her eye in reaction to your attitude, which just pushed you further. she was enjoying this, seeing you act up. you kept the same tone to your voice, looking up into her eyes as her ring-clad hand pressed down on your neck.

“well, i think i deserve to be a brat, after being left hanging for almost an hour.”

she pressed down slightly harder on your neck, her nails digging into your skin slightly and her eyes narrowing as she held your eye contact.

“is that really how you want to play this? don’t act like you didn’t wait around here like an obedient little slut for that whole hour.”

you could’ve sworn you felt your brain falter as her words went straight to your core, because when she talked like that, you always melted a little bit inside. you couldn’t find any quick smartass comeback this time, but you didn’t want to look even more pathetic by fumbling for a response you weren’t going to find, so you simply rolled your eyes.

at your eye roll, she pressed her lips together slightly, “where’s the good girl i normally get to fuck? hmm?” she said those words as if your bratty attitude is somehow displeasing to her, but you knew for a fact that it was the opposite. she loved when you were like this, it gave her an excuse to be rougher, meaner.

“guess i’ll just have to remind you how to behave, won’t i?”

the hand on your neck snaked around to the back of your head, where she took a fistful of your hair in her hand and tugged roughly at it, sending a stinging sensation to your scalp. she used the hand she was pulling your hair with to angle your face upwards, so you were looking right up into her eyes. you held the eye contact, an almost challenging look in your eyes as you spoke again.

“maybe you should. might wanna hurry up with it, though. getting bored here.” that was a blatant lie, you were not bored, and you could listen to her degrade you like you were her slut for hours, but you wanted to push her. you wanted her to be unable to resist fucking you hard. no matter how good the other girls she’d fucked at the party were, you would be better, and you were sure of it. you had to stand out somehow.

your words did indeed have the intended effect on billie, and she let out a scoff, giving your hair another harsh tug as a reminder that she was in charge.

“watch that fuckin’ mouth, sweetheart. it looks better when it’s being put to use.”

that, of course, was the perfect opening for another bratty remark, and you were too deep in to resist winding her up now. “well, i don’t see you putting it to use, do i?”

and… that was it. you could practically see something in the wiring of her brain change as she snapped. “that’s it,” she breathed out, her grip on your hair tightening as she climbed off you, pulling you off the bed and pushing you to your knees on the floor in front of her in an instant.

“you really can’t learn to shut your pretty little mouth, can you? you know, you’re a lot prettier when you shut up.”

she was unbuttoning her pants as she spoke, and you could see the bulge of her strap-on underneath the clothes. within moments, her pants were discarded on the floor, revealing her signature long red strap. for how long she’d spent on the back and forth teasing, she sure seemed to be in a rush now. her hand returned to your hair, gathering it in a makeshift ponytail, harshly tugging your head back to an angle that worked for her.

“you’re also a lot prettier on your knees, so gorgeous f’me.”

those words were misleading, almost soft. when she spoke again, her voice was raspy as she looked down at you with that harsh look in her eyes. “my fuckin’ slut. gonna take what i give you, and you’re not gonna complain.”

that you weren’t, even in your bratty state, you knew you weren’t in a place to complain, on your knees in front of her. plus, you were pretty sure that you wouldn’t need to complain, not for this. you were right, when she pushed the strap-on into your mouth. you hollowed out your cheeks to make it easier to take—not that billie was at all concerned with whether this was easy for you. she wanted to make you cry, she wanted you to be an absolute mess, right there in front of her and on your knees.

your tongue swirled along the sides of the strap, putting on a show for her. she smirked, loving that she had finally shut you up. the satisfaction of seeing you no longer talking back didn’t last for long, however, and soon she had tightened her grip on your hair, holding your head firmly in place. then, she started thrusting the strap as deep as she possibly could inside your mouth.

you faltered at first, your gag reflex acting up, as always. you’d always had a bad gag reflex, but billie didn’t seem to care. after a moment, you managed to sort out the gagging reflex, but it wasn’t long before it was acting up again. you could feel the tears prickling at your eyes, as you always did when billie did this. you were convinced the only reason billie ever got you to suck off the strap was so she could see you cry when you gagged.

after a while, you felt the tears rolling down your cheeks, mixing with the spit that had gathered around your mouth from the sheer pace at which billie was thrusting the strap into you. you let out a muffled whimper around the faux dick, and if you could look up and move your head from the tight grasp billie had on your hair, you’d see the cocky smirk painted on her face. she loved shutting you up like this, and she loved seeing the tears rolling down your cheeks. it was a reminder that she could make you into a mess like no one else ever could.

“god, look at you. so pathetic f’me.”

eventually, once billie was satisfied with how much of a mess you were, she pulled the strap out of your mouth, using the still-harsh grip on your hair to pull you up off your knees. she manhandled you to your feet in front of her, looking you up and down for a moment with a smirk. she took a moment to just take the sight in, your hair messy from how she’d held it, your cheeks tear-stained, and a slightly dumb, empty look in your eyes—oh, how she just adored how much of a mess she could make you.

it wasn’t long that she spent admiring you—she was still in a bad mood, and she desperately needed to blow off some steam. pretty soon, she had crossed her arms while she looked at you closely, “strip.”

you didn’t hesitate—she was unbelievably good at stripping you of your brattiness, as well as your clothes. you could feel any stubbornness you’d had leaving your body at an alarming speed. once you were stood there in front of her in just your bra and panties, billie’s lips twitched up into a small, satisfied smirk. she placed a hand on your shoulder, pushing you backwards to the bed with ease, and you fell backwards onto the sheets and pillows that had been perfectly smoothed out by the hotel staff earlier that day—they wouldn’t be looking that flawless for much longer.

she took a few more moments just admiring you, in front of her on the bed, almost bare. her index finger slipped under your panties before letting them snap back onto your skin with a teasing grin. her other hand moved to your bra, where she tweaked at one of your nipples through the lace, the sharp pain rushing straight to your core.

it wasn’t long before she’d manhandled you into the position she wanted—from behind, it seemed to be a favourite of hers—and rid you of your bra and panties. she lined the strap up with your entrance, and within moments, she’d thrusted the strap fully into you, not giving you any time to adjust. one of her hands circled your clit teasingly, dipping inside your pussy briefly and gathering your wetness on her finger with a smug smirk.

“so wet…that all from me throwing you around? treating you like some dumb toy? fuckin’ whore.”

you let out an utterly pathetic whimper, and she chuckled darkly as she thrusted into you roughly from behind, your pussy swallowing her so perfectly, so willingly—a huge contrast from the bratty display you’d been putting on earlier. her hand squeezed at your ass as she gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail again, harshly forcing your head back.

“mm, look at you taking me so well, so much prettier when you just shut up. moments like this remind me why you’re my favourite.” you were sure you weren’t her favourite, you were sure she said that to all her girls, but you didn’t care. you let out a moan at her words, and she gave your hair another tug in response. “so fuckin’ pretty when you let me do the thinking, baby.”

she gave your hair another harsh pull to emphasise her next words, “dumb brats don’t need to think, yeah?”

you whined again, and she laughed, the hand that was grasping your hair moved to circle around your neck, squeezing slightly. it wasn’t enough to really hurt you, just a display of dominance—as if the way she was thrusting into you wasn’t enough to tell who was in charge.

the metal of her rings dug into the skin of your neck as she squeezed, and another moan spilled from your lips at the feeling combined with the pace at which she was fucking you from behind.

keeping her pace the same and her hand around your neck, she asked, “colour?” she always checked in, no matter how caught up in fucking you she might seem, she was always attentive to your signals.

“green,” you muttered, surprised you even managed to get a word out with the amount of pleasure you were feeling.

she grinned, although you couldn’t see it, and kept pounding into you at the same harsh speed, the hand that wasn’t around your neck squeezing your ass again. then, she leaned over to speak in your ear, her body pressed against your back. her lips brushed against the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. god, she knew what she was doing.

“still think i’m a bitch, hm?”

you debated just not replying, but you knew that being bratty again was just what she wanted you to do—and who were you to deny her? “a bitch who’s fucking me good, yeah.”

if you could see her, you would’ve seen her smirk widen as her warm breath fanned over your neck near your ear, and she gave your ear a teasing nip, “still a brat, i see. guess i’ll just have to fuck it out of you.”

she moved away from your ear, the hand around your neck moving back to its previous position in your hair, tugging your head back with her harsh grip. her other hand moved to your hip, holding you in place as she thrusted into you. another trail of moans fell from your lips, your hands moving to dig into the sheets of the bed. “i’m- fuck, billie—”

she laughed condescendingly, giving your thigh a slap, and you whimpered as the pain sunk in. “mm, a bitch who’s fucking you so good you can’t even form a whole sentence, right?”

you just cried out at her words, your hands gripping the sheets as your walls clenched around her strap, your head going fuzzy from the pleasure she was bringing you. you didn’t care how many other girls she had fucked right before she got here, not when she was fucking you this good. you were so, so close, and she could tell.

“cum on my cock, baby. wanna see you fall apart,” she gave your hip a squeeze and tugged your hair, and that was enough to push you over the edge. you came with a moan, clinging onto the sheets like your life depended on it, pleasure washing over you in the most intense waves. your eyes squeezed shut as you mumbled incoherent nonsense, “bils, fuck—oh my god…”

she grinned again, keeping up the bruising pace, which you assumed was just her helping you ride through your orgasm. but even once you’d come down from the intense pleasure, she was still thrusting deeply inside you, causing whimpers to fall from your lips.

“bils, too much–fuck, it hurts—”

giving your hair another pull, she spoke with that same raspy voice, “i don’t care if it hurts, you’re gonna take what i fuckin’ give you, mamas. you know what to do if it’s really too much.”

you let out a strangled cry as she kept pounding into you, the pleasure mixing with pain and creating an intense feeling of ecstasy—but she was right, if you needed her to stop, you knew what to say. but you didn’t, you just kept letting out those same broken moans as your hands tangled in the sheets. your release was gathering around the base of the silicone as she pounded into you.

she let go of your hair, moving her hand so both of them were firmly holding your hips, keeping you in place as she fucked into you at that bruising pace. you were almost certain you would have bruises from how firm her grip on your hips was—not to mention how unlikely it was that you’d be able to walk the next day—but you didn’t care. it just felt too good, her fucking into you like this, the way she was manhandling you…

it wasn’t long before one of her hands snuck down to your clit, circling it torturously with her index finger and drawing even more desperate moans from your lips. you were embarrassingly close to your second orgasm, it couldn’t have been longer than five minutes since you came down from the last, but you could feel your walls clenching around her strap again.

billie noticed this, of course, and you could visualise the smug smirk on her lips when she spoke. “gonna cum f’me again, pretty girl? god, you look so much better like this.”

so, you came around her cock for the second time that night, moans falling from your lips like music. your arms were aching from holding yourself up, and you slumped down slightly, resting your head on the newly messed up sheets of the bed, a soft sigh escaping you. your thoughts were jumbled and you couldn’t pick out a single coherent thought amidst the mess of pleasure, your thoughts just a repeating mantra of billie’s name.

after a moment, billie pulled the strap out of you, and you whined again at the feeling of emptiness that took over you. she laughed softly, a slight condescending undertone to it, before grabbing your shoulders to turn you over so you were laying on your back. her touch was decidedly more gentle than it had been earlier, but she clearly wasn’t finished with you yet.

once you were on your back, she pushed your thighs apart and settled down between them, propping herself up with her elbows and looking up at you. her lips twitched upwards when she took in the expression on your face, you were completely wrecked—and she’d made you like that. she watched as you took deep, heavy breaths, your head resting back against the bed as you stared at the ceiling.

“can you move up f’me? get your head on the pillow, ma.”

her voice was almost soft, and you nodded quietly, using your weak arms to pull yourself up the bed slightly. once your head was resting on the pillow, you let out a soft sigh of relief—your neck was aching from how hard she’d been gripping it, so the pillow gave you some much needed extra support.

she looked at you for a moment, before speaking again, that raspy hint to her voice still very much present. she seemed a bit more cautious than she had been, a lot of her frustration from the day clearly fading from how hard she’d fucked you. “i wanna taste you, baby. colour?”

you nod softly, exhaling slowly. you were exhausted from how hard she’d been fucking you, but you needed her mouth on you. “mhm, green.”

it didn’t take any more confirmation for her to lean down and bury her face in your pussy, her hands gripping your thighs and holding you firmly in place. her tongue licked a stripe up your slit, drawing a loud moan from you. your thighs instinctively closed around her head, the amount of pleasure she’d given you hard to bear. she tsked, giving your thigh a warning slap and firmly forcing them open again,

“stay still.”

two fingers slipped inside you with ease, and she started thrusting them inside you at a torturously slow pace while her tongue circled your sensitive bud. the slow pace was a contrast from how fast she had previously been pounding into you, and you knew she was doing it on purpose to drive you insane. everything she did was always so calculated, exactly what you needed at that moment to make you fall apart, to make you an absolute mess for her.

her free hand moved up to your tits, giving them both a soft, misleading squeeze, before harshly pinching your nipple between her index finger and thumb, laughing mockingly when you let out a soft cry of pain.

“oh, it hurts? hm, you’re fuckin’ pathetic, baby. such a mess.”

the sounds of her fingers inside you echoed around the hotel room, the only sound other than your moans. you were so impossibly wet, and you could feel another orgasm approaching rapidly as her fingers curled inside you, “mm, you’re taking me so well. such a good, dumb slut for me, hm?”

your walls clenched around her fingers at her words, and she grinned, nipping at your inner thigh teasingly before returning her tongue to your clit. “yeah, my good little slut. like when i call you that, ma?”

you moaned again, and you were coming on her fingers before you could stop yourself, your body going limp against the bed as you were hit by your third high of the night, moans falling weakly from your lips.

billie didn’t stop her movements, her tongue moving from your clit to your pussy, gathering your taste on her warm tongue and moaning softly. her fingers replaced your tongue at your clit, and you flinched as they circled your sensitive bud.

you let out a whine as her tongue kept up her movements, slurring out a soft protest through the pain of being so overstimulated, “bils, i can’t– ‘m too sensitive—”

she hummed against your pussy, the vibrations eliciting another moan from you. she pulled back ever so slightly to respond, but you could still feel her warm breaths hitting your clit in the most achingly pleasurable way.

“fuckin’ take it like a good girl, know you can.” her fingers kept circling your clit. “you want to be a good girl for me, right? make up for being such a brat?”

you nodded desperately, because yes, you wanted to be her good girl. you wanted to please her, “yes, fuck– wanna be your good girl, billie-”

billie grinned, her tongue returning to where it had been, slipping inside you as her fingers teased your clit, “mhm, my good girl. my favourite girl.”

you whined at the pleasure she brought you, trying not to close your thighs around her head again as they shook from the sheer pleasure of this moment. you didn’t even really comprehend her words, the way she kept throwing around the lie that you were her favourite.

you didn’t even care if you weren’t her favourite girl, being one of the girls was more than enough for you. you didn’t care how many other girls she’d fucked right before this, because you could feel her tongue coaxing yet another powerful orgasm out of you. a sob left your lips, the pleasure overwhelming you and taking over your body in every way possible. god, she was too good at this.

you opened your mouth to warn her, but all that came out was a moan as she flicked your clit with her finger, and the dam broke. your head fell back against the pillow as liquid gushed out of you, soaking her chin and the sheets below you.

she eagerly lapped at it, and you let out another strangled whine, your hand reaching out to her head. your fingers tangled in her hair, trying to guide her off you. your things were shaking, your skin tingling, your body drenched in sweat, your mind foggy.

it was too much, the pleasure becoming too overwhelming. you’d have told her that if you could form words, but she took your signal and dragged her mouth away from your pussy, pressing a few soft kisses to your inner thigh.

“mm, look how messy you are, mamas. such a messy slut, all for me?”

you whined softly as she pressed kisses to your trembling thighs, “all for you.”

she grinned up at you smugly from where she lay between your thighs, her eyes raking over your face and body. her smile widened as she took in just how wrecked she’d made you, your hair messy and your body limp and exhausted, paired with the marks that were already appearing on your hips and neck from her harsh grip. she found you unbelievably gorgeous when you were like this, and she gave one of your thighs a teasing squeeze.

she had fucked the brattiness out of you, just like she’d said she would.

“see, baby, what did i tell you? so much prettier when you’re not being a brat.”

#୨ৎ lyd writes #billie eilish #billie eilish smut #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x reader smut #smut #billie eilish x you #billie eilish x y/n #hit me hard and soft #hmhas #happier than ever #when we all fall asleep where do we go #wwafawdwg

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