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moonchild1 · 11 months

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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)

hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a

↬ DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.

block party by @minlucent f s a

↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l

a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg

↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it?

lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l

secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a

↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au

i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a

↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you.

fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth

↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller

pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s

↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l

animal by @cutaepatootie f s a

↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST

things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a

↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.

entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth

↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.

when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a

↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?

new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a

↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?

horizon by @/sokooks f s a

↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au

searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a

↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.

twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a

↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.

when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a

↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on

better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a

↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him

our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7

↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au

dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a

↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au

together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm

↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au

hot bot by @/httpjeon f s

↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.

stardust by @iamtaekooked f

↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his

serendipity by @rohobi f s a

↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.

chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a

↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.

I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a

↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au

sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a

↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin

↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au

sleepwalking by @taexual f s a

↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a

↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury.

OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.

as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a

↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”

hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.

to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a

↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.

J’aime by @baepop f s a

↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.

Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth

↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend

make me forget by @roseannekook f s a

↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.

one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm

↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song

boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a

↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc

the boy who left by @/gujoonim a

↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au

love sewn by @jvnghxope s a

↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.

not yet by f s @bratkook f s a

↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.

one shot

blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a

↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au

southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a

↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.

house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a

↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.

enouement by @littlemisskookie s a

↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au

miss taken by @junghelioseok f s

↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l

the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a

↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.

the proposal by @hansolmates f s a

↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l

red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s

↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money.

burning bright by @snackhobi s

↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim

but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a

↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.

the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj

↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need.

illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a

↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.

the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a

↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au

rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a

↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.

lowkey by @joonbird s

↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.

part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a

↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time.

sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a

↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'

i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj

↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man.

white lies by @noteguk f s a

↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you.

yes coach by @/taleanewastime s

↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.

spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s

↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.

fifth wish by @jiminrings f a

↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.

blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth

↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

5K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 4 months

Note

hi lovely ! you asked for kny requests and i've just finished my kny volume 22 re-read, so thats perfect timing 💙

I was wondering if you could write something with Yoriichi — (tw for potential child loss)

Maybe a hurt/comfort fic where his pregnant wife actually survives the demon attack while he's away (but maybe she gets quite badly injured and their unborn child doesn't make it, if you want to add a little extra angst to it. If not then that's totally fine, this man deserves a happy ending after all 🥺)

Of course, you're the writer — feel free to take any creative direction you'd like or ignore this request if you're not comfortable with it. Have a lovely day/night! <3

Again, I'm beyond sorry you were forced to wait for this so long! But here you go honey, let me know what you think <3

Yoriichi saving his pregnant wife and unborn child just in time

Pairing: Yoriichi x pregnant!wife!reader

Word Count: 4,2k

Synopsis: You never expected to face a demon ever again, especially not when you are about to deliver your child while your beloved husband Yoriichi is in search for a midwife. Will you and your child be alright? Will your husband make it back on time?

Warnings: injury, horror, child birth, tortue, description of death, extreme angst to fluff, last part is not proofread

Notes: Since the first Yoriichi fic I wrote, I'm so deeply in love with his character that I adore writing him so much! Since this fic took a while, I would totally appreciate your support through liking, commenting and reblogging this fic - thank's a lot babes <3

He can’t get enough from simply looking at you. You with your head in the clouds, you with your hand mindlessly roaming around the soft grass underneath, the other one caressing your heavy pregnant belly, you when you give him those surprised eyes as soon as you notice his presence.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that you’re already here”, you say in a small panicky voice.

You didn’t expect your beloved husband back this soon. If you would have known that he’ll be here by know you would have cleaned the whole house, made him something to eat and-

“I can only imagine what is going on inside your head again.”

His soft but at the same time rough hand touches your cheek gently, the loving gleam in his fuchsia eyes making you blush in an instant. All the voices in your head stop right in their track when he’s around.

Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Your savior, your best friend. And most importantly, your husband and father of your future child.

“How are you feeling, love? Did you enjoy your afternoon?”, he questions, eyes wandering down your body to your swollen belly.

It was hard leaving you alone in a state like this, but he wasn’t able to resist the urgent call from last night. He might be nothing but another simple man holding a sword, but it is his responsibility to save those who are in need. What else is he able to give to this world?

His hand lands on your belly, feels the tiniest kick of his unborn child against the palm of his hand. At least he was able to create a smaller version of you. Is it a boy, a girl maybe?

“I hope our child is a reflection of you”, he finally mutters into the silence, a small but somehow sad smile forming itself on his lips.

You suddenly forget how to breathe, glossy eyes fixated on his captivating sight. Oh, oh much you hate the stinging fact that your husband thinks so negatively about himself. Why can’t he see all the heroic things he has done so far, how respected he is in the demon slayer corps? Why can’t he see that every inch of his body is flawless? Out of instinct, you let your head rest against his broad chest, breathe in his strong scent. If you could only stay like this here forever, his hand resting against your body while the sun tickles your skin-

A violent moan escapes your lips when a sharp pain runs through your stomach. A kick. A really rough kick, to be exact.

“Are you alright, love? Did something hurt you? Is it the baby?”, your husband asks feverishly, his usual neutral face garbled by worry lines on his forehead.

“Just a kick”, you press out, still fighting to regain your composure.

“I will search for a mid-wife, (y/n).”

His words make your eyes widen in an instant, a wave of fear crushing down on you. Is it really time already? You look down at your swollen belly, so big that you aren’t even able to sit down properly anymore. This has to be the ninth month of your pregnancy.

Your heart sinks. The ninth month. If the books you’ve read are accurate, it really is time.

“I can’t do this, Yoriichi.”

Thick panic runs through your veins, forces your heart almost out of your chest. You aren’t ready to deliver a child, let alone to be a mother. All the things you haven’t read yet, the things you’ve probably never heard of…What if you mess it up? Until you met Yoriichi, all you were able to do was trying to survive. Your mother never had the chance to tell you about those things, isn’t here anymore to stay by your side.

You are…on your own.

“Look at me, (y/n). I will go out and search for a mid-wife and I’ll be back at sunset, you hear me? Just stay inside the house and nothing will happen. I promise to return as early as possible.”

Fuchsia eyes that radiate through your soul immediately. An angelic voice that calms down your tingling nerves with only four sentences. Strong arms that lift you off the ground and lead you back into the warmth of your home.

But know, it’s not the wooden cabin that feels like home. Your eyes wander to the neutral expression he wears on his face, only betrayed by a worried glow in his orbs. It’s him, your beloved husband.

“Are you feeling alright, love?”

You take a deep breath in, a deep breath out. Eyes focused exclusively on him until your mind finally silences. It’s just you and him. You and your beloved husband, the man you would trust with your life without battling an eyelid, the man who made you the person you are today.

“I do”, you breathe out.

Your heartbeat tames down as well as the kicks of your unborn baby, Yoriichi’s hands keeping you from falling over.

“Promise me to lock the doors and wait in bed until I return, (y/n).”

A seriousness you only know from him when he is forced to leave at night veils his calm eyes.

“But…you will be back before the sun sinks, right?”

He gifts you a small smile, hand caressing your cheek so gently that you almost forget about the worry lines decorating his face. The truth is that the next midwife lives miles away. Even if he gets to the village as soon as possible, the sun will be about to set when he returns. Yoriichi can’t help but clench his other hand into a fist next to your stomach. The sheer thought of not making it in time, that you’ll be defenceless.

“Don’t worry, love. Rest your eyes and be assured that I’ll return as soon as possible.”

But he cannot allow himself to fail you, to leave you alone in those oh so merciless nights. He will return, no matter what it costs.

He presses a soft kiss against your forehead before grabbing his sword tightly.

This. This is his fate, his family. You are his whole life.

And he’ll do everything to protect you.

-later that evening-

You are exhausted. Over the last few hours, your body was haunted by waves of pain coming and going like the seasons. Again, you dig your nail into the wooden floor, your heavy breaths hanging in the thick air. You definitely don’t need a midwife to tell you it’s time. Yes, your baby is on its way.

And your husband didn’t return yet.

Your glossy eyes dart towards the window, witness how the sky outside turns bright red in the down-going sun. Is Yoriichi alright? You know how cruel life can be. Maybe he met a person who needed to be saved on his way, maybe the midwife is too old to rush to your side in time.

“Rest your eyes and be assured that I’ll return as soon as possible.”

Those words. Even though he’s not yet by your side, you are able to feel his powerful presence around you, how he calms down your aching heart.

“Everything will turn out alright”, you mutter to yourself while caressing your tummy.

“Everything will be alight…”

You allow your lids to rest, body relaxing for the first time since your husband left. You will get through this, you will deliver your wonderful child tonight. A tiny bundle of joy, an image of its father. Is it a boy, a girl? As long as your child is healthy, you couldn’t care less.

Carefully, you curl up on your futon, snuggle yourself into the blanket that still holds his scent. Maybe you’ll be able to catch a few hours of sleep until he finally comes back. Sleep sure does sound very appealing at the moment.

But just when your breath begins to steady, a violent scratch forces you to sit straight up. It came from outside, without a doubt. Is it an animal, is it…

Your throat gets tight immediately, glossy eyes staring at the closed window in sheer horror. The trees bend back and forth peacefully in what looks like a tender night. But that scratch, it sounded exactly like claws digging into hard wood, sent shivers down your spine immediately. You know that sound all too well, experienced what it means to get slaughtered by a demon before. Just before your whole family died violently, this was exactly what you’ve heard.

Out of instinct, you bury yourself into the corner of the room, the blanket that holds Yoriichi’s scent still pressed against your now shivering body tightly. Please, let it be nothing but a wild animal, let your husband come back home soon. Maybe this is nothing but a nightmare and you’ll wake up any given minute-

A violent pain runs through your body so suddenly that a shriek escapes your lips. Suddenly all air escapes your lungs, the way your belly cramps making you see start. No, you know exactly what this means, that this is not the right time to deliver a baby. Isn’t there anything you can do to stop this? You still need to wait for your husband, the midwife, for this gut-turning feeling to vanish. Your breath gets stuck in your throat, sharp and fast breaths hanging in the thick atmosphere.

But it doesn’t stop there. As if this wasn’t enough already, you can only stare at the door that gets opened painfully slow, claws digging into the wooden frame.

Without any doubt, this is a demon.

You press your sweaty palm against your mouth, force yourself to stop screaming, to stop breathing.

“I know you’re here, human. You smell like a…woman.”

It’s like all life is drained from the dead shell of your body, widened orbs staring at the frightful creature that makes its way into your home. Get up, fight, defend yourself like you saw Yoriichi do countless times, use the knowledge you gained from him.

But you don’t move an inch, don’t dare to look away. For a brief moment, time seems to stand still. Out of all the nights you’ve spent together with your husband, this is the first away from him, the first without his protection. Is all of this a dream, a hallucination to test your nerves?

The second the monster’s deadly red orbs meet yours, you get hit by reality. No, this isn’t a dream.

This will be your death.

“I knew you were here, lady. Let me help you up, okay?”

“N-no. Please d-don’t”, you whimper under your breath.

Your coward of a body doesn’t even fight back when he lifts you off the ground with ease, his nails digging into your soft flesh.

“Oh, you’re expecting a baby, don’t you? Well, does this count as a double kill, then?”

Your baby getting killed? If that thing ends your life, it means your unborn child will never experience dawn, will never get to see the face of its father, will never take in his scent. Your glossy eyes widen in sheer horror, tears now streaming down your face like waterfalls when a single frown form on your forehead.

You couldn’t care less about your own life. After all, you were lucky that Yoriichi saved you back then, didn’t even deserve to survive when your whole family had to die before you. But that oh so innocent child that might have the eyes of its father, the blessing of your life right after your husband. That innocent life cannot be taken.

There is no way you will let this creature lay hands on it.

Your body reacts faster than your mind. With a surprisingly well-placed kick, you free yourself out of the monster’s casual grip. You need to get out of the house, out where you are able to find shelter, to run away. Your lungs feel like bursting any given minute, legs trembling underneath the weight of yourself and the unborn baby you still carry right under your heart. Even if it means you’ll die in vain, even if you won’t be able to see Yoriichi’s tender eyes ever again, you have to make sure your child is safe.

“I underestimated you, stupid woman. As it seems you didn’t give up on life yet”, the creature purrs what feels like right next to you.

A new nauseous wave of panic rises up your veins, makes you sprint even faster through the thick woods that surround your house. This has always been your favorite place to be. The calm trees waving back and forth in a soft breeze, your husband right by your side-

Your husband. Just the thought of never getting to see him again makes your heart ache. You didn’t even get the chance to thank him one last time, to let him know how much he truly means to you, that he’s way more than the man who saved your life back then.

He’s everything you ever wanted, everything you ever needed.

A sharp pain that radiates through your lower body sends you straight onto the ground immediately, figure cramping so violently that you can’t catch your breath. No, this is not the time labor, not when a demon is this close.

“Oh, there you are. Did you really think you can run away like that? You, a little human? You made me so man that I will kill you as painfully slow as possible.”

You try to lift your trembling figure off the ground, try to get back onto your feet, to sprint down the forest you know so well. But just when you’re about to get back onto your knees, a stinging pain in your right thigh paired with a contraction sends you straight back.

A violent scream escapes your lips.

Red. Everything around you is discoloured red. Is this your blood? Did this thing kill you already, are you going to die? Despite the way your guts start to turn when you follow the trail of blood, you can’t look away. And there it is indeed, a gaping hole in your leg, throbbing and bleeding.

All color that is left now drains from your face. With an injured leg, your chance to escape this demon’s claws is non-existent. Which means…

Your heart skips a beat, threatens to fail you any given second. What about your unborn child? A violent storm of anger and determination clouds your mind, makes all logical thoughts vanish into thin air.

“You can’t kill me”, you press out.

Since the day you first laid eyes on a demon, you accepted your own death. Your life is worthless anyway, compared to great warriors like your husband himself. But that oh so innocent child, that tiny life you were given to. You ball your hands into fists so tight your knuckles stand out white and lift your throbbing self off the ground. You cannot allow a demon to take the life of that unborn baby.

“I won’t allow you to touch me.”

You realize the stupidity of your words after they spill out of your mouth in rage. You, not allowing a demon to touch your puny figure? Another contraction makes your guts turn and vision almost go black.

As expected the frightful creature draws closer, its unpromising pair of razor-sharp teeth glittering in the dim moonlight. You never expected to see a demon this close again. Oh, how much you hoped you’d never find yourself in that situation again. But you have to get through this, have to make sure you will survive long enough for the mid wife to deliver your child to this world.

His child.

“I’m sorry Yoriichi. I never planned on leaving you alone like this”, you mumble to yourself, shaky lips tinted in salty tears.

“But this all I’m able to do.”

-Yoriichi’s POV-

Something seems off. Is it the way the trees bent back and forth in the soft breeze of the already set sun? Is it that distant smell that hangs in the air, the one that reminds him of fresh blood and lavender?

“We must make haste. I can sense that danger is ahead of us”, he speaks out with firm voice.

He promised you that he’ll be back before the sun goes down, that he will make it on time before demon are able to roam around freely. Are you feeling alright? Is the pain unbearable at this point? Do you still hold trust for him in your heart? His footsteps pick up instinctively, eyes set on the visibly stressed man behind him. In contrary to most people, Yoriichi doesn’t fear the night or the demons it brings. The only thing he fears at the moment is what you have to endure without your husband by your side.

With every he takes forward, the stinging smell of blood mixed with lavender becomes more urgent in his nose.

Lavender.

He always wondered how you did it. Even after washing, all your clothes kept that calming scent that surrounded you as if you were standing in a lavender bush. A smell so sweet that it caught his interest back then before he caught a glimpse of your fascinating orbs, a smell that always reminds him of home. Yoriichi’s home will always be where you are, where the sensation of lavender is the strongest.

Lavender, the stinging smell of blood that hangs in the air. His eyes widen when his mind starts to race. The smell, it radiates from the direction of your shared home, from the direction that usually fills him with excitement. Can it be…?

His heart starts racing uncontrollably while he dashes forward and draws his sword. Let it be nothing but coincidence, a cruel joke his thoughts play on him. But the stinging fragrance of lavender mixed with iron fills his heart with dread, makes his mind go numb. What if you got attacked by a demon, what if you are in great danger? All because he didn’t live up to his promise, because he didn’t make it on time. His eyes roam around the dark area, desperately searching for a sign.

And then his eyes find you.

Yoriichi’s heart stops.

There you lay, leaning against a nearby tree with a puddle of blood surrounding you, widened eyes starring straight into the face of a demon who hollers above you.

“No one is coming to save you, stupid girl.”

He doesn’t waste another second. With a swift motion of his sharp blade, Yoriichi beheads the demon on top of you while a toe-curling scream escapes your lips. Just one look at your sliced-up kimono reveals countless injuries, especially a gaping hole in your thigh. You hold onto your swollen belly for what looks like dear life, eyes still widened in nothing but shock.

“(y/n)”, he gently speaks out while letting himself fall down next to you.

You have to blink a few times. The demon, it was just about to dig its sharp teeth into your sensitive skin, to take the life of your unborn child in front of your eyes.

Maroon.

But those aren’t the deadly red orbs. No, those oh so gorgeous eyes look so familiar that your heart tames down in an instant. Could it really be, is it possible that it’s…him?

“Yoriichi.”

You breathe his name into the night like a prayer.

Maybe this is nothing but an illusion, a cruel trick your own brain plays on you.

“Words can’t express how sorry I am for arriving too late. I will never forgive myself for leaving you alone this long, for causing this to happen”, his oh so familiar voice blurts out.

Yoriichi’s usual so composed face twists in sheer agony, eyes filling with salty tears. All of this is his fault. He should have arrived sooner, he should have made hurry, he-

“We didn’t come this far to worry now. Please, help be delivering this child, let it all make sense”, you press out while grabbing his hand tightly.

It doesn’t matter that you’re severely injured, it doesn’t matter that your beloved husband took longer than expected to come back to you. All that matters now are you, him and your unborn child that waits to be delivered.

“Allow me to assist you.”

A foreign man suddenly speaks out with sweat dripping from his forehead in waterfalls. Just when another wave of nauseous pain hits you with full force, as if you got kicked into your stomach by a horse. You fail to breathe for a second, hands holding onto your husband for dear life.

“You are already close, it won’t be long now”, the man reassures you while gently opening your legs.

“You can do it, (y/n). After all the things you had to endure today, you will be able to get through this. With me by your side. I love you more than any words could ever say, darling.”

One more push.

One more wave of pain before your body goes numb, before you lose the ability to feel anything except for sweet nothingness.

Until a loud shriek finds its way to your ear.

A violent scream, almost frustrating. When you open your eyes again, you are greeted by a crying but alive bundle of joy, carefully wrapped into a white cloth and placed onto the arm of its father.

Those eyes.

“I prayed every night that he would have your eyes”, you whimper with tears running down your cheek uncontrollably.

You did it. You saved your beloved child who looks just like its father, you managed to somehow stay alive.

“She”, the midwife corrects you gently.

“She…”, you mumble with a small smile.

The last thing you see are the troubled maroon eyes of your husband before your world goes dark.

-the next day-

A foreign but still so familiar laughter fills the atmosphere around you with joy while you see nothing but black. When your stubborn lids finally open, you are greeted by the wooden ceiling you know so well. This is your home, without any doubt.

The home a demon invaded.

The home where you feared for your life while your husband rushed to the midwife in order to deliver your child.

Your child.

You get up way too quickly, glossy eyes darting around the room without a real aim. Is your baby okay? What happened after the delivery? All you can remember are those familiar maroon eyes that looked so much like the orbs of your beloved husband. Your husband…Where is Yoriichi?

“Don’t move too quickly, love. The doctor strictly forbids you to be in a haste”, his gentle voice speaks out next to you.

Just a few moments later, you get invited by the warmth of his arms swallowing you whole. Out of instinct, you let yourself fall against him, press your very own body into his despite the scorching pain that immediately takes over your whole self.

Right, you were attacked by a demon the night you gave birth. How did you manage to escape? Are your injuries critical.

But most important: How is your baby?

“Look what you have accomplished. A little wonder. Just like you, my love”, your husband murmurs, carefully lifting a little bundle off a blanket nearby.

Your heart nearly stops when you catch a glimpse of her. Those maroon eyes are the last thing you remember before everything goes black. With shaky hands, you start caressing her puffy cheek. This. This is what you fought for, what makes it all worth it in the end.

“She has your eyes”, you hush, tears now streaming down your face in waterfalls.

“And your hair”, Yoriichi replies with a soft smile towards you.

“(y/n), I promise I’ll do anything in my power to protect you and her from something like this. I promise I will stand by your side no matter what. And I hope that someday, you will be able to forgive me for not being there for you when you needed me the most.”

The second your husband’s voice cracks, you can’t hold onto yourself any longer. You wrap your arms around him and your daughter longingly, take in the scent who gave you strength that night.

“There is nothing to forgive and nothing to feel sorry about. You did your very best and that is all that matters. I love you, Yoriichi. And I have to thank you for saving both of us just in time.”

“You are my greatest treasure on earth”, he mumbles against your lips while giving you a passionate kiss.

What a plot twist, what a happy end after all. Yesterday you were sure your life is over, that you won��t live onto the next day. And now you’re lying in your house, holding your giggling daughter while pressing your heavy head against your husband’s broad chest.

“Well, I fear I will have to share this special place by now”, you comment while gazing at your perfect little daughter.

“This might be true, love.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @kayleegomez @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san

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yuzurins · 1 year

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# circles

in which: sae’s tired of running around in circles with an undefined relationship, so he decides to take his chance when he can to make you his.

warnings: kind of unorganized, mentions of alcohol, intoxicated reader, insecure reader, mutual pining, just a bunch of comfort and fluff, honestly strayed from the original prompt t-t

reblogs and interactions are appreciated!

itoshi sae is a busy man.

being the most sought for japanese football player and as well as a regular on the real matrid team meant he was always doing something football related. practices, games, events, you name it.

his schedule is packed with plans set months before they happen. companies and teams always request to see him sooner, but he makes no exceptions for anyone, not even his own family.

well, that goes for anyone but you.

itoshi sae has found himself breaking his own ideals without any hesitation. he‘s standing in front of your apartment, 5 hours, 27 minutes and 54 seconds before his flight back to spain, after an obviously drunk text you sent him 10 minutes ago.

1:22AM

y/n: saweewea

y/n: did u knwo a broken heart hurts REAL bad😍

sae: what

y/n: i think i’m goign to crush my cat with my body weight

y/n: u fg hhh hj jgjjgjhhhrkdoforjfof

sae: where are you rn

y/n: ogm r ru gonna come visit me 😎😜🥺

y/n: i’m soooerirjf lonely

sae: .

sae: be there in 5

sae doesn’t know whether to ring the doorbell or call you to let you know he’s here. heck, he’s not even sure whether you’re at home or not, but he does know that it’s not often you go out to drink. as he’s hesitating, you hastily open the door, almost like you could sense him there.

“sae!” you slur, just barely avoiding stumbling over yourself as you straighten up. “i didn’t expect you to actually come visit me.”

“neither did i.” he scoffs as he takes in your current state: graphic anime tee (which he gave you last christmas), sweatpants, messy tangled bun and your face is entirely red. you reek of soju and he knows better than anyone you’re a lightweight, so sae mentally prepares once more for what he’s about to get himself into.

the response from the magenta haired in front of you causes a pout to form on your face. he’s not quite sure if it’s just his imagination or not, but it looks like you’re more down, more tired than usual.

“are you okay?” he asks, and this prompts you to stretch your arms out, almost habitually, and wrap them around the taller male’s torso.

sae flinches ever so slightly at your touch. he gently pushes you back into the apartment as he closes the door, all while having one arm wrapped around your waist.

it’s obvious you’re not in the right mind space, but as everyone says, drunk words are sober thoughts, though sae doesn’t know whether that’s good or bad. you getting blackout drunk as a result of academic stress has become a monthly occurrence now, and it always ends up with sae coming over to babysit you. he’s more than aware of the fact that you’re taking his presence for granted, yet despite that, he’s still always there for you.

you’re obviously more than just friends, so why does sae feel like the line separating friendship and relationship just keeps getting thicker?

you latch onto him like a koala as he shuffles over to your couch. he doesn’t force anything out of you, doesn’t show any impatience, and just waits for you to talk.

the two of you quietly bask in the comfort of each other’s arms for a long time. just as sae begins to loosen his hold on you believing you’ve drifted off, you cling onto him even tighter, refusing to let go of his warmth.

“don’t go.” you mumble into his hoodie, voice quivering, and sae wonders if it really is school stress that’s made you this way.

humming in response, he pats your back lightly as if he’s caring for a baby, trailing his hand up to your head to play with your hair.

sae doesn’t want to pry, but there’s something he really needs to confirm before it eats his thoughts up even more.

“i won’t leave,” he reassures. “did anything happen?”

a sound comes out of your mouth in response, barely louder than a whisper. sae turns his head to look at you and you take it as a request for you to repeat your words. you try again, and this time, you’re still mumbling, but it’s enough for him to make out what you want to convey.

“i’m sorry.” and a tear falls from your eyes, “i’m sorry, sae.”

now sae’s been in this position for countless times, always coming to be your personal therapist at unearthly hours in the night, but this is the first time he’s ever seen you act so vulnerable. he can feel your body trembling against him and his heart aches just seeing you so dejected.

but he’s not dense enough to not realize what you’re apologizing for, because it’s the same reason as to why he decided to ask in the first place. he gently removes his arms off your waist, turns you to face him and moves his hand up to wipe the tears streaming down your cheek.

this tender, silent exchange between the two of you is more than any amount of words that express. sae’s usually indifferent eyes are laced with affection, and you just can’t help but feel so guilty because of that.

“i know you’re really busy,” you avert your eyes, biting on your bottom lip to stop yourself from breaking again. “you’re always doing so much for me, and i feel so terrible because i don’t deserve any of it.”

sae doesn’t say anything, letting you finish your thoughts before stating his.

“i was watching one of your games earlier, and i was reminded of the fact that your world and mine are so far apart.” you’re still looking away, but a soft nudge from sae’s hand pushes you back to look at him. “i just—i feel like i’m not enough for you, sae.”

through watered eyes, you can catch the expression of the male in front of you waver, and with years of knowing him, you’ve mastered the ability to be able to tell what emotions are going off in his mind.

“i know it sounds silly—“

“it’s not silly.” he interrupts, despite being patient all this time, but struggles to find the right words to continue. “is this what you’ve been feeling since back then?”

you shake your head, and lean forward to rest it on his shoulder. “the internet is scary.”

sae lets out a soft chuckle at your unintentional joke, and moves his head to rest it on the side of yours. “but what only matters is that i’m here in front of you right now, yeah?”

“it’s true that i’m busy, but i’ll always be your anchor of support whenever you need it, seriously.” his fingers find their way to intertwine with yours, and your heart flutters at how romantic he’s being. “so don’t cry sweetheart, because you’re breaking my heart as well.”

the use of the pet name makes you giggle, it being so out of character for sae, yet that’s how you know he really means it, from the bottom of his heart. hearing the sound of your laughter allows sae to relax his shoulder from all the tension he unknowingly had been feeling, and he cups your cheek with his palm, bringing you face-to-face with the taller male.

his eyes study your features, taking in your beauty, before going back to make eye contact with you. though you notice how they flicker down to your lips and hover there for a split second longer than anything else, your heart thumping loudly at the realization of what he’s asking of you.

you flash him a small smile in response as approval, and sae wastes no time closing the distance between you two. his touch is soft, almost like he’s afraid of breaking you, and easily washes away all the worries clouding your mind.

sae droops his arms over your shoulders and rests his forehead against yours. “you were always and will be more than enough for me, y/n.”

his sweet words bring a red flush to your face (not from alcohol this time) and you purse your lips in embarrassment as sae’s grin only gets bigger.

“so just hurry up and be mine already.”

BONUS: the morning after

you wake up with a pounding headache, and immediately try to get up to get a drink of water, but your body doesn’t budge at all.

as your eyes begin to adjust, you look down to find sae and his arms locked around you, causing a scoff to come out of your mouth.

of course you couldn’t move when a whole professional football player (incredibly fit btw😍) has a death grip on you.

“sae, wake up.” you nudge him and he only whines in response. “didn’t you have a flight to catch this morning?”

“mm, shush.” he takes one of his arms and lightly pushes you back down into his embrace. “who cares about that, been waiting for this for far too long.”

you laugh and decide to give in, slowly drifting back to sleep.

meanwhile, sae’s nonstop vibrating phone on your nightstand is totally unnoticed, the cause being hundreds of messages and calls from his manager wondering where he is.

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loveshotzz · 1 year

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All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap seven/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Bad Idea

summary: After a week of avoiding, you find Steve at your front steps.

wc: 4.3k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters. Steve and Reader have THE talk, we learn Steve & Emma’s story. There will be discussions of feelings about watching a loved one struggle with terminal illness and death in this chapter. There’s not a ton of details about her struggles but it is touched on. Angsty beginning and a very, very fluffy end 🧡

author’s note: it’s all up hill from here guys, just a little growing pains. i can’t believe there’s only three chapters left after this 🥺 thank you for reading and all of the sweet reblogs and messages through out this whole series. you have made this so special for me and it’s been such a comfort to write as I navigate my own life changes right now.

🌇 <- chapter six -> chapter eight

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The tune:

End of June -

It had been a week since Steve came back from his camping trip. A week of good morning texts left unanswered, of making sure not to look out your window when you knew he was home - even when you could hear him play with Bandit. He was doing that outside more than usual, a tactic to try and get you to come out and talk to him or hell, even just look at him.

He doesn’t know that a few times it almost worked.

Always & Forever

The words engraved into silver also stay carved deep and fresh in your mind, not letting you forget. You couldn’t, even if you tried. Especially not her beautiful eyes. Does she hate you? Part of you feels like you would hate you. The guilt threatens to punch the air out of your lungs.

The days go on like this with you doing everything in your power to avoid him while he did everything he could to run into you. The last ditch effort was after you caught him getting out of his car, your eyes meeting for a split second before you cut through the alley walking in through the back gate instead. Your resolve to stay away grows weaker when Steve’s good morning texts finally stop after that.

So when Brad, the new server, gets the courage to ask you out, you say yes. It was a bad idea, anyone could’ve told you that, you didn’t really want him. He was just a distraction from facing the consequences of your own actions.

He takes you to RPM Steakhouse in the heart of downtown and surprisingly he actually makes you laugh. He’s full of food industry horror stories he’s collected over the years. He’s not boring and he’s attentive when you talk, asking questions like he’s really interested. The butterflies that have built a home in your rib cage don’t flutter and fly for him though. The nerves that make your heart beat faster, the ones that feel like they vibrate from your fingertips, like your skin is on fire, are stagnant.

He’s not Steve.

You skip out on dessert when it’s offered to you, but you let him hug you before you get in your separate Uber’s home. It worked for a few hours at least. Looking out the window when your car hits the expressway, the skyline shines gleaming like the stars in the clear night sky.

It’s not very long until your phone fights for your attention, the screen illuminating the backseat. It pulls you back to reality, your breath catching when it’s not Brad’s name that flashes across your screen.

Steve

Can we please just talk?

You aren’t expecting to see him at your front steps when the Uber drops you off at your gate. His hair sticks out wild at the ends, like he’s been pulling it all night, scratch that, all week and it makes more guilt settle deep in your gut. The scruff on his jaw is almost dark enough to be a beard now. His legs are covered in gray sweats and the white undershirt he wears fits tight over his shoulders. You hate how handsome he still is, even with his slides and socks.

He’s talking to himself, moving his hands like he’s trying to explain something, reciting a speech you can’t quite hear from as far as you are. The leftovers shift in your bag when you take your first step making the styrofoam squeak and plastic crinkle, his eyes shoot up instantly at the noise.

“Honey?”

Those wings start to stretch and flutter even after just one word. You wish you could be mad at how much power one word from him has, but all you feel is the weight of how much you missed him when his face softens.

“Hi Steve.” You catch the way his lips twitch at the sound of his name coming from your mouth when you open the gate. It had been too long for him, he’d become addicted to it without even knowing it.

He stands up, his eyes can’t help but roam your bare legs that sit exposed in your black cocktail dress, or the way the middle sinches into your waist, before fluttering out over the tops of your thighs. His own jealousy threatens to bubble over at the thought of you wearing this for someone else. He needs you to understand him.

“Is this a bad time?” He asks, scratching the back of his neck while he reads the restaurant name on your bag. He hopes whoever took you there isn’t coming back. “If it is sweetheart, I can give you more space. I just, I just wanted to see you.”

You stop in front of him, further away than normal but close enough to smell the cigar smoke that still clings to the cotton of his shirt. It mixes with the spice of his cologne from earlier this morning. His eyes find yours without hesitation, glazed over from the glass of whiskey you’re sure he nursed before finding himself on your front steps. They shimmer under the moon like emeralds and you just want to get lost in them.

The answer you want to give and the answer that you think will protect you are at each other’s throats, constricting yours from giving him anything right away. His face crumbles a little when his question is met with silence. You don’t want him to go.

“No, it’s not a bad time.” It comes out before you can fight it.

The smile that tugs at Steve’s lips warms your face like the summer sun, his hand reaching out for you before pulling back and finding a new home deep in his pocket instead. Baby steps. Your arm brushes against his when you walk past him, the smallest touch lighting the match.

“I just need to get out of this dress.” You can’t look at him when you pull at the fabric as if to show him how uncomfortable it is.

“Should I wait down here?” He clears his throat a little unsure of himself as he watches you dig through your purse. He didn’t think he’d get this far.

Cicadas buzz loud against the jingle of your keys in the beat of silence it takes you to unlock the front door. The stale air of the walkway hits you like an oven when you push it open, the heat making your skin stick more than it did outside.

“You can come up. I promise my dishes are done this time.” You flash him a smirk from over your shoulder watching the way your gesture makes him relax like you’d intended, secretly enjoying the blush you still can get to flush his cheeks so easily.

Steve hadn’t been inside your apartment since the day he fixed your sink, and you don’t think you’ll ever get used to seeing him here. He’s handsome in a timeless way, still somehow put together even in his disheveled state. You watch the way he takes in his surroundings like he wants to commit it all to memory not knowing that he actually is, just in case this all blows up in his face and you never let him come back here again.

The only noise that fills the room is the loud whirr of your A/C and it’s your turn to clear your throat.

“Umm, feel free to take a seat. I’ll be really quick.” You awkwardly gesture towards your green couch, grimacing when your mind goes back to the beautiful leather one at his place.

He just nods, rubbing his palms against his thighs while taking one last look around before sitting. Your nose scrunches when you see how deep he sinks down, maybe a used couch wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had.

You wait till your door is shut to let out the long breath you feel like you’ve been holding this whole time. The familiar thumping in your chest returns ten fold. He’s in your living room.

You try not to think too much about the yoga shorts and oversized shirt you change into, especially when your muscles relax, no longer strained by the tight nylon material dress. Allowing a single once over in your long mirror, you force yourself back out, the creak of your door alerting him of your return. His stare makes goosebumps dance across sticky skin in a battle with the air conditioning.

“Do you want some water?” You try to sound casual when you ask, keeping your back to him so he can’t see the way you’re still buying time.

“S- sure,” he stutters out, a cough following and you hear the way the cushions respond to his weight as he tries leaning forward.

Now it's the whirr of your a/c and the grumbling of the ice machine that silences the unspoken feelings that are begging to come out. Scratching and clawing their way to the surface, the cracks in your facade start getting deeper the longer you stay quiet.

Steve breaks first.

“I think there’s a conversation we should have.” He pauses before starting over, “There’s a conversation I want to have.”

You freeze when the realization of where you left the watering can smacks you right in the face.

“Steve-“ you start, unable to meet his eyes and he’s quick to cut you off.

“Listen, I have some things I need to say and you should at least let me get it off my chest if you’re just going to pretend I don’t exist now.” His words make you realize the selfishness that hides under your insecurities of not being good enough for someone like him.

He stands up when you turn around, both of you staying on opposite sides of the room. He takes a shaky breath before dragging his fingers through his hair.

“I didn’t think I’d ever feel these things again with anyone else, I was sure of it actually and then you showed up in your horribly packed moving truck.” He laughs a little like he’s still wrapping his head around all of it, and he knows if the situation was any different you’d roll your eyes at him for the teasing jab.

“You brought all of these things out of me that I thought I’d lost for good. Like, I can’t remember the last time I cared about what I was wearing when I left the house, but the past month I’ve been obsessed about it. Like what if she’s outside? What if she’s looking out her window? What if she wants to talk to me?” The veins in his neck show themselves as he gets more worked up but he’s not done yet.

“Then last week when you showed up at my front gate, looking even prettier than the last time I saw you, because you do that somehow, I couldn’t help myself around you anymore. The fact that you were actually going to kiss me back after I put the worst moves on you made me feel like I won the lottery or something.” His gaze meets yours to make sure he isn’t scaring you off before taking a deep breath.

“And then, and then you just - you just left without so much as a reason why. It was pretty clear though when I got home, and maybe that’s my fault because I feel like I’m doing this all backwards but you didn’t give us a chance to even talk about it.”

Steve looks like his world is falling apart, and the things he’s saying make you feel like anything but a second choice. You wish you could go back to that rainy day at his house and do things over again.

“I wasn’t given the shot at a fair fight the first time something special was taken from me, but I have one now and I’m not walking away unless you kick me out.” He straightens his shoulders a little before another anxious hand runs through his wild hair. His chest heaves as he finally gets out what’s been sitting just below the surface the whole time, his fears revealing themselves behind flushed cheeks and glassy eyes.

The feeling like you’re slighting another woman who isn’t here is hard to navigate. It makes your own eyes sting but you don’t let the tears fall. Not when he’s handing his heart to you like he means it.

“I’d never kick you out,” your words come out quiet - soft, a stark contrast to the way his boomed loud with conviction, but he doesn’t miss them.

Hope starts to sprout deep in his chest for the first time in years.

“Never?” He breathes, relief relaxing the hard lines on his face while he looks at you from under his lashes.

His feet take him those few steps closer and when you make no moves to tell him to stop he keeps going. The sadness that plagues his handsome features slowly starts to fade and the bags under his eyes become more obvious. You want to kiss them.

Your hand extends, fingers reaching out for his. His eyes follow your movements, taking in what you’re offering and he doesn’t hesitate anymore, interlocking them like when he walked you to your front door. You watch the way his shoulders give the moment they touch and his eyes close as he relishes in the feel of it. Of you.

Your back hits the edge of your kitchen sink when he crowds your space a little more, your fingers playing songs on imaginary strings together. Memorizing he dips between each one. His nose skims across your forehead making your own eyes close. How could you ever stay away from him?

“Never.”

He hums at your confession, squeezing your hand gently before pulling back. He takes his time admiring your face from this close. He missed you so much, he actually thinks it’s kind of crazy. His other hand reaches up to cup your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone. He loves the way you lean into it. You missed him too.

“Can we have that conversation now?”

All you can do is nod, tears still threatening to spill out but now a different kind.

The two of you sit on your couch for hours, worn in cushions pushing you close together. Your head rests on his arm that’s draped along the back of it, your socked feet in his lap. He tells you how he met Emma through his high school sweetheart Nancy. The ex that turned him into a man as he put it, the one that made him really think about the kind of person he wanted to be. Even going as far to say Emma would have never given him the time of day if it wasn’t for her. Nancy was the Managing Editor of The Chicago Tribune and Emma was her Editor in Chief.

After being introduced by Nancy at a sports gala, Steve pursued her hard, especially because she said no the first three times he asked her out. It makes you giggle when he laughs about it. He said he knew he wanted to marry her after the first date and a year later he proposed to her on a group vacation with Eddie, Robin, Nancy and a few other friends in Mexico. The picture you saw was taken right after she said yes.

The wedding was small, just a few of their closest friends at The Chicago Botanical Gardens, and a dinner at Smith & Wollensky next to the river after. He told you how Eddie pretended to be mad the whole night becauseSteve made Robin his best man instead. They both moved into Steve’s apartment near Wrigley Field after a honeymoon in Italy. He said it was some of the best years of his life with her there, young and in love in one of the liveliest neighborhoods in the city. Then a few years passed and both their careers started taking off and they started wanting more as they got older. A family.

That’s when they started to invest in renovating this fixer upper of a house in a less nightlife oriented neighborhood. The house you live next door to. Between busy work schedules and dealing with contractors when the symptoms first started, they didn’t think anything of it. They chalked it up to exhaustion until she fainted in her office a few months later, then they finally saw a doctor. Another month later after multiple tests and hospital visits Emma was diagnosed with ALS.

“I’ve never seen something debilitate someone so fast, and Emma, god Emma was so strong. Seeing her like that at the end, it fucking broke me.” Steve’s voice cracks, a silent stream of tears falling down his cheeks now.

Your heart breaks for them, the tragedy of watching the person you love fall apart with nothing to do to stop it. An entire life you had planned ripped out from under you with zero warning or mercy. A cruel joke.

You reach up, using the back of your knuckles to wipe away his tears. He leans in your touch, his gaze meeting yours with so many emotions inside of them, you think you might drown.

“We decided to stay in our apartment when she couldn’t walk anymore, with the rate it was moving she didn’t want me to live in this big new house meant for our new beginning and have her…have her die in it,” the last part comes out in just above a whisper, stopping to collect his thoughts. His brows furrow together and his fingers search for yours again. You give them to him without question.

“We checked her into hospice a month after that, Eddie flew in the day she chose to get off assistance. She was surrounded by the people she loved the most those last days.” He takes another deep breath before he continues, it shakes just like his hands.

“That was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I don’t know how someone is supposed to go through that kind of pain and move on from it. Be a person again after it.” He takes another pause and he pulls you closer. His anchor.

“I don’t know if I’d still be here if it wasn’t for Eddie moving into the house with me those first three months, if I’m being totally honest with you.” He sniffs, his gaze falls to his lap to try and hide the shame at the thought, and you squeeze his hand a little bit harder.

“I’m so sorry Steve.” Your voice cracks at the weight of everything he’s been carrying around. The gravity of the way you left him tightens in your throat.

The tears you’d been holding back break free, making his eyes snap to yours. He lets your hand go to wipe your cheeks with gentle fingers like you did to his just moments before. He knows you're apologizing for more than just his bad luck.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m okay now,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours. The tips of your noses touch, tears mixing and dripping down the ends of them. You keep your eyes closed in hopes that if you focus hard enough, maybe you could take away some of his pain. Even if it’s just a little bit. “We’re okay now.”

You don’t know how long the two of you sit like this together, not speaking, letting wandering hands memorize faces and fingertips. Your breathing falls in time while your cheeks start to dry. Puffy red eyes stay closed while your muscles finally relax. His nose rubs small circles against yours that make smiles neither of you can see stretch across tear streaked faces.

When you finally open your eyes, he’s already looking at you, something brighter inside of his now like he just let go of a big secret. He doesn’t have to hide anymore.

It’s you that finally works up the strength to pull away enough to really see his whole face after depriving yourself of it for so long.

“I actually kinda feel like she sent you here, despite me,” he admits, laughing nervously, breaking the silence, “She made me promise her that I’d try and find love again when the time was right, I eventually said yes after she asked me at least a dozen times, but I never actually intended on it.”

Steve stops for a second to brush some of your mascara that smudged, holding your eyes in the forest of his.

“Then five years later, this tough girl tries moving an entire apartment’s worth of stuff by herself next door. I mean, you practically did.” He smiles at how proud you look of yourself, “I knew I was screwed when Bandit sniffed you out.”

You giggle like you're just as love sick as him and he wishes he could play it on a loop whenever he’s sad.

“She was probably laughing at how bad I was at trying to flirt with you.” His ears turn cherry red while he tries to hide his very real embarrassment.

“You did run away from me for like a solid week after we met the first time if you remember,” you tease, making his eyebrows raise in challenge. You weren’t supposed to roast him too.

“I guess we’re even then aren’t we?” He counters, smirking when you scoff, wrapping his arm around you so you can’t move away like you try to in fake protest.

Your legs end up draped over the tops of his thighs, fitting snug into his side. The warmth of his body makes your eyelids droopy. The cedar undertones he always carries calms all of your nerves.

“She was beautiful Steve,” you whisper, playing with the chain that dangles off his neck before looking up at him with a smile, “And maybe even a little too cool for you if I dare say.” It’s genuine when it comes out of your mouth, no hidden insecurities, an understanding that he wasn’t settling for you and it makes Steve want to kiss you even more.

“She would have thought you were way too cool for me too.” He laughs, tracing the side of your face with his fingertips. You want to look away from the intensity of it all but you force yourself to hold his stare, keeping yourself open for him. It’s quiet for a few minutes, letting everything that was shared tonight really sink in. That stray you missed so much makes an appearance and you finally get to be the one that pushes it back, and his hair is just as soft as you imagined.

“What are you doing on the fourth, pretty girl?” The new nickname makes you shift in your seat, the hint of a smug smirk begs to break across his face when he catches it. Maybe he’s still got it.

“Nothing, I got the day off.” You hate that his question is enough to make you shy.

It’s too hard to hold his gaze this time, but he doesn’t let that slide. His fingers hook under your chin to tilt your eyes back up to his. Noses brushing, your lips just inches apart like this.

“Be my date to the block party?” He whispers, whiskey and tobacco still lingering on his breath.

You smile, nudging your nose against his in a dare.

“I’d love to Steve.” His name comes out around strawberry chapstick lips, they brush with his feeling like velvet and it makes his nostrils flare.

He dips his head with a groan kissing the corner of mouth instead, before placing one on both your cheeks and another, a lingering one, against your forehead.

“In honor of not doing things backwards, I’m going to wait until I’ve taken you out. The way it should happen. The way someone like you deserves.”

Steve wants to make you feel special too.

It's hard for you to feel rejected with his reasoning and seeing the clock on your stove read in bright red numbers - 2:46am. The fourth was only three days away now.

You play it off with a roll of your eyes and a dramatic “fine” that makes him really laugh for the first time all night, giving you another kiss on the cheek. This one a little wet. He can’t get enough of the way you can’t look at him after.

It’s another thirty minutes before he decides it’s time to go home when your yawn is too loud to hide and your head presses harder into his chest. He wishes he could stay, and one night he knows he will.

You both linger in the doorway with fingers wrapped up tight, neither one of you ready to let go. He just wants to stare at you, but he knows the alarm stuffed in his pocket is going to make his life miserable in three hours.

Instead, he gives you another kiss on the forehead telling you he’ll text in the morning, and he wishes he could have a picture of the smile you give him when you promise to text back.

beta’d by @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

older!steve edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

🌇 -> chapter eight

#my wriitng #all i really want is you series #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington series #steve harrington fanfiction #older!steve #older!steve harrington

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navybrat817 · 1 year

Note

Any chance we'll see tattoo artist Steve soon? 🥺

Here's a bit of Steve's birthday, nonnie.

By Any Other Name

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Steve Rogers x Teacher!Female Reader Summary: You're the only thing Steve wants for his birthday. Word Count: Over 900 Warnings: Implied sex, implied oral sex (f. receiving), future couple, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Thorn and Rose, set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @jobean12-blog for chatting with me about this! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics and Steve edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first thing you thought when you woke up was that you couldn't believe how well rested you were. The sun was already up, shining bright through the window and curtain. You didn't normally sleep in and had no idea what time it was, but you didn't care as you nestled back into the pillow. It was going to be a good day.

If indicated by the wonderful ache between your thighs.

Your eyes widened when the figure beside you wrapped an arm tight around your waist. For a second, you almost forgot that you weren't alone and weren't in your bed. The large body was so warm and solid, practically a furnace. The beard that tickled your neck made the ache in your core throb with need.

So, I did actually sleep with my tattoo artist. It wasn’t a dream.

"Morning," Steve rasped, his lips lightly brushing against your skin as you held back a whimper.

“Morning,” you whispered back.

Your heart fluttered when he raised his head, his deep blue eyes focusing more as he smiled. His blonde hair was slightly dishevled, but he managed to still look perfect. You probably looked like a monster. It didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss between the center of your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his muscular arm pulling you a bit closer.

"I'm okay," you replied after a moment, lightly tracing one of the tattoos on his forearm.

"Just okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

You weren't sure how to respond. The gorgeous man who talked you through getting your tattoo was practically a stranger. And you slept with him. To say he rocked your world was an understatement. The man shattered you and you couldn’t believe how he was able to put every piece of you back into place.

“Steve, Steve, Steve!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name when I make you come for me. I’ve got you.”

The mere memory, along with his chest against yours, made your nipples hard and made you damp between your legs. You didn’t draw any attention to it though. While he didn’t seem like the type to kick you out of his bed, you had no idea where he wanted to go from here.

“More than okay. I slept really well,” you admitted, backing up just a little. He didn’t need your morning breath in his face.

Steve only pulled you closer. “So did I,” he smiled, cracking his neck a little. “And how’s your wrist feeling?”

“Just fine. Thank you,” you said as he gently took it to check. You still couldn’t believe you ran from the chair when he turned the tattoo gun on. Needles weren’t your thing. He managed to get you through it and you were glad for it.

The rose and single thorn tattoo was beautiful and worth conquering that fear.

“I’m glad you went through with it. And I’m not afraid to tie you down if you try to run from me again,” he winked, making your cheeks hot. “I have to say, this is the best way to wake up on my birthday.”

“Wait, it’s your birthday?” you smiled when he gave you a sheepish look. “Happy birthday, Steve. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

To be fair, you didn’t know and you hadn’t expected to go home with him last night.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, slowly tugging the sheet away. “But do you want to give me something?”

Instead of trying to cover yourself up, you let him fully see you in the sunlight. The way his eyes darkened, he liked what he saw. “What did you have in mind?” you asked, your voice huskier than before.

“Well, Bucky and the guys are having a small thing for me tonight,” he said, lightly running his fingers along your torso. “Would you, maybe, want to go?”

Not what I thought he’d have in mind, but that kind of sounds like a date.

“Sure,” you smiled, happy that he wanted to see you again. “I’d love to go.”

Watching his face light up was almost like you gave him a real gift. “Is it selfish to ask for one more thing?” he asked, bracing himself over you before he leaned down to capture your mouth.

Any self-conciousness about your breath and anything else disappeared as desire took over. His cock was hard, trapped between your bodies as he lightly grinded against you. “That all depends on what you ask for,” you teased as he moved his kisses down your neck.

“Scream my name again. Do it while my tongue’s deep inside you,” he said as you bit your lip. It sounded more like a command and one you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “And do it again when I give you my cock.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“Louder than that, Rose,” he said, nipping your collarbone and making you giggle at the reference of your tattoo. “And since it’s my birthday, I get to eat as much as I want.”

“You really are going to be a thorn in my side, aren’t you?” you asked affectionately.

“I prefer to be the ache between your gorgeous thighs,” he smirked. “So open up and let me eat.”

Your legs spread without another word. You’d let him have his fill. It was his birthday, after all. And it would’ve been wrong to deny him.

Steve deserves it, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female!reader #steve rogers #tattoo artist!steve rogers x reader #tattoo artist!steve rogers #sin on skin au #thorn and rose #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers au #tattoo artist au #chris evans x reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you #chris evans

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finnsbubblegum · 1 year

Text

Perfect Family (Joel Miller X Reader)

Pairing: no-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

Warnings: fluff, sweet joel, domestic joel, protective dad joel (let me know if i missed any)

Summary (Series): reader as Joel’s neighbor. Joel’s wife left him so Joel asked his neighbor for help in babysitting Sarah.

Summary: the happy ending that Joel Miller deserves.

Words count: 1.5k

A/N: This is the last part, I hope you are ready to say goodbye 🥺 This is Epilogue of Where It All Starts. But it can also be read as a standalone. I'm so grateful for all of you! Thank you for your comments, reblogs, and likes. Thank you for your support for this series ❤️ I love you, I mean it!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Epilogue

It had been a few months after little Joel Miller was born and you started getting used to having less sleep, baby cries, changing diapers, breastfeeding, all the newborn stuff. You and Joel agreed to take turns for diaper change at nights and it helped you a lot to get more rest.

The sun shone and you woke up. You stood up to pull the drapes open then you checked on your baby boy in the crib.

“Good morning, my baby boy.” You booped him on the nose.

Your baby giggled and bounced his legs. You laughed seeing how cute your baby was. He had Joel’s brown eyes and high nose. If you had to be honest, you were disappointed because you carried him for 9 months just to look like Joel and not even you a little bit. But on the other side, you liked him looking like Joel because that meant you got to see two Joel Millers everyday.

He started crying. It was time for him to feed. He was hungry. So you took your breastfeeding pillow that Joel had bought you, put it on your lap and laid your baby there. You pulled your shirt and let your baby suckle. You smiled looking at your baby and caressed his head.

Joel groaned and stretched as he woke up.

“Mornin’.” Joel rubbed his eyes and greeted you with a hoarse voice.

Then he turned his head to look at you and snuggled beside you. His hand supported his head as he faced his mini me that was sucking your nipple. He chuckled and stroked Sam’s head that was as big as Joel’s hand. Then his sparkling eyes moved to stare at you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You chuckled.

“You look so beautiful, baby.” He praised you with his morning voice.

“You really need to get your eye checked. My hair’s messy and I have dark circles.” You were being insecure.

“Nuh-uh. You look really beautiful right now, baby. I can’t take my eyes off you.” Joel kissed your arm.

Joel adored you so much. Seeing you having his baby, made him feel the joy that he never felt. You used to wish you could breastfeed Sarah when she was a baby, and now you were finally able to breastfeed Joel’s baby. It took years, but you and Joel were finally here. Together and even had a baby.

“Do you want to go somewhere today?” It was the weekend and Joel wanted to spend the weekend with his family.

“Where?” You turned your head to him.

“How about the zoo?” Joel chuckled softly.

You giggled and shook your head. You didn’t expect Joel would think of going to the zoo. It was a long time since you went to the zoo with him so you liked his idea.

“That’s a good idea.” You cupped his cheeks and rubbed his jaw with your thumb.

At the zoo

Sarah walked between Joel and you. Both hands holding each of yours and Joel’s hand while Joel’s other hand pushed the stroller with his son sleeping so soundly inside.

“1, 2, 3!” You and Joel swung Sarah.

“Again! Again!” Sarah giggled.

“1, 2, 3!” You and Joel counted together and swung her.

“Oh! Look there! A lion! What sound does a lion make, sweetie?”

“Roar!!” Sarah roared at you.

You and Joel laughed at her. Joel suddenly remembered the first time he and you went to the zoo when Sarah was a baby. He remembered exactly when you roared at Sarah. He even remembered the words he accidentally said to you about going to the zoo with Sarah again when she was bigger. He thought it wasn’t going to happen but now you and him were married and even had another addition to the family, your son.

“Ice cream!” Sarah shouted and pointed at the ice cream stand.

“I want ice cream!” Sarah jumped and pulled your hand.

“Okay, okay. We’re gonna get ice cream, sweetie.” You chuckled at her..

Then you turned your head to Joel and shook your head. Sometimes you blamed Joel’s genes for making such an energetic daughter. Joel shrugged and followed you behind.

“Hold it straight babygirl. Don’t drop your ice cream.” Joel supported Sarah’s hand that was holding her ice cream.

The four of you took a seat to get some rest for a while and ate your ice cream.

*baby started crying*

“I need to feed him.” You sighed and smiled.

You took one last lick to your ice cream and gave it to Joel. You took the baby bottle that you had filled with your breast milk and lifted your baby.

“Hungry, huh?” You cooed at your baby while he nursed at the teat.

While you fed your baby, Joel’s other hand fed you your ice cream. You leaned in and licked your ice cream. Then Joel suddenly shook his head and chuckled.

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Nothing.” He shrugged.

“What?” You insisted.

“It’s just-déjà vu.” He answered.

You didn’t follow him so you raised your eyebrows.

“Do you remember when we came here when Sarah’s was about Sam’s age?” Joel asked.

You nodded.

“That’s where it all starts, baby. You, me, Sarah. Now there’s the four of us.” Joel finished his ice cream.

“Oh..” You just remembered about it and nodded.

“I’m glad I knocked on your door that day, baby. And thank you for asking me to keep playing house with you. It was the best decision I’ve ever made.” Joel took your hand and rubbed it with his thumb.

“Well, you chose the right neighbor to babysit your daughter.” You smirked at him.

“I love you so much.” Joel chuckled.

“I love you more.” You smiled at him.

“Speaking of which..Where’s Sarah?” You couldn’t find her on the chairs next to you and Joel.

“What?” Joel took his eyes off you and looked around in panic.

“Jesus Christ.” Joel put his hand on his forehead as he saw his daughter playing with a boy her age.

“Maybe he’s her friend at school, Joel.” You told him as you put our baby back inside the stroller.

Joel groaned and stood up. He walked towards Sarah to get her back. He was protective of his kids. You just shook your head seeing Joel so protective because you knew you couldn’t stop him.

“Okay, babygirl. Who’s that boy you were talking to?” Joel sat Sarah on the chair next to him.

“It’s ben! My boyfrieenddd~” Her cheeks redden.

“Boyfri-” Joel pinched his nose bridge.

“Why didn’t you tell us you have a boyfriend, sweetie?” You giggled at your daughter.

“You’re not allowed to have a boyfriend until you finish college.” Joel crossed his arms on his chest.

“Mommy!” Sarah turned her head to you and asked for back up.

“This is between you and your dad, sweetie.” You raised both of your palms.

“Be honest with me. Did you kiss him?” Joel gently pulled Sarah’s head back to face him.

Sarah avoided Joel’s eyes and hummed. You giggled looking at your silly daughter and husband.

“Sarah, baby, look at me. Where did you kiss him? On the lips?” Joel cupped his daughter’s cheeks.

Sarah shook her head and pouted her lips.

“Beenn~” She said his name again.

“Are you thinking about him right now?” Joel chuckled at his daughter. He couldn’t handle her cuteness but he had to act angry.

“You are not allowed to kiss anybody except mom and dad. Understand?” Joel raised his eyebrows.

Sarah kept avoiding his eyes and looked at you.

“Look at me.” Joel gently turned her head to him again.

“Promise me.” Joel gave her his pinky.

“I promise, daddy.” She swayed a bit, pouted her lips, and pinky sweared with Joel.

“That’s my girl.” Joel lifted her daughter.

“You’re not going anywhere.” Then Joel sat her on his shoulders.

“Don’t be too hard on her.” You rested your hand on Joel’s shoulder and chuckled.

“No boys till she’s 30. Period.” Joel glared at you.

“30? You said until she finished college.” You were confused.

“Changed my mind.” Joel cleared his throat.

The four of you then continued your walk around the zoo and went home. You spent the night watching movies together in the living room. The movie was halfway played and Sarah was already asleep on Joel’s lap while little Joel Miller slept on your chest.

Joel turned his head to you and enjoyed the view. He couldn’t believe he was now a family of four. He put his hand on top of yours, lifted it to his mouth and placed a kiss. You smiled at him. His marriage with his previous wife wasn’t a good one but now he had the most perfect family with a beautiful wife, beautiful daughter, and cute mini me or he liked to call him little Joel Miller.

The End.

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skz317cb97 · 1 year

Text

Finger Painting

Hyunjin x Female reader

Word count: 5.3K drabble shmabble🤪

Synopsis: Hyunjin asks you to help him with an art project. He needs a super special canvas... you.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! Okay so I'm a closet whore for Hyunjin (was it really closted?) This is the last part! 👀 It's filthy I hope you love it! If you do please reblog, comment, like scream in my ask box whatever. Love hearing from you all! 8/9

Warnings: 18+ONLY MDNI! It would be easier telling you what it doesn't have but I'll try 🤣 Cursing/strong language, body painting? dom Hyunjin/sub MC, lots of dirty talk, praise/pet names (beautiful, gorgeous, goddess good/bad girl etc you get the idea Hyunjin says whore but isn’t calling MC one if that makes sense lol), rough sex, hair pulling, breath play/choking/gagging, finger fucking/masterbation, oral (m&f receiving), face sitting/riding/fucking, sex toys (vibrator), deep throating, cum shot, cum eating, ass play/eating (m2f), spit play (a little), punishing/spanking/clit slapping, safewords/taps (explained but not used), overstimulation/forced orgasms/multiple orgasms, squirting, Hyunjin takes pictures while fucking MC, unprotected piv sex (use protection please), cream pie, cum play (quite a bit). For fucks sake I think that's everything 🤷🏻 If I missed something please let me know and we can both be shocked together lol. No really if I missed anything please do let me know so I can add it asap!

After you paid for the pants and Jeongin got dressed you both made a hasty exit from the store before anyone suspected anything. Once you were all clear you both burst out into laughter as the adrenaline from what you’d just done disiappated. Jeongin moved stray hair out of your face and kissed you softly. You leaned into it smiling.

“That was so much fun noona.” You smiled nodding in agreement still catching your breath a bit.

“It was! I’m so hungry now!” Jeongin giggled.

“Me too!” You grabbed his hand pulling him towards the food court.

“Come on Innie lets refuel.” You pulled him close to whisper in his ear so only he could hear you.

“Then we’ll get out of here, go back to mine and I can put that teddy on for you again.” You licked the shell of his ear and he felt his cock twitch in his pants. He looked at you with wide hopeful eyes.

“REALLY?!” You nodded laughing.

“On one condition...”

“Anything!” He said eagerly. You smiled sweetly and leaned into his ear again.

“Want you to bend me over and make me scream your name then unload all over my ass....” He choked as you pulled back and gave him big innocent doe eyes.

“Can you do that for me Innie?” He nodded speechless his face tinted pink again.

“I... I think so noona.” You pecked his lips.

“Good boy.”

One week after your shopping excursion with Jeongin and one week before your next game night Hyunjin texted you.

Jinnie- HELP! I need a canvas!

You- tf? what do you think I am an art supply store?

Jinnie- Seriously!

You- Seriously Hyunjinnie what do you expect me to do?!

Jinnie- The subject is body painting.

You- 😳 Oh! Uh... one of the guys can’t or something?

Jinnie- This week is our female models next week is male, Felix already said he’d do it.

You hesitated. You didn’t think you could strip to your undies in front of strangers and let Hyunjin paint your body.

You- I don’t know Hyunjin body painting in your class...

Jinnie- NO! It would be in my studio, I paint you and take pictures it’s a whole mixed media kind of thing. It would only be me and you. Please there’s no one else I can ask 🥺

You- Damn you and that emoji. Okay when do I need to be at your studio?

Jinnie- Uhh... 30 minutes?

You: JINNIE! Wth!

Jinnie: I’m sorry I was busy and meant to ask sooner! You can do it still can’t you?! 🥺🥺

You: goddamnit. I’ll see you in 30 minutes.

Jinnie: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU GODDESS QUEEN I LOVE YOU!

✨️❤️ 😍🥰😘❤️✨️

Goddess? You could get used to hearing Hyunjin call you that you thought. Wait. Fuck.

Thirty minutes later you were knocking on the door to Hyunjin’s studio. He answered and smiled that big dumpling smile of his, his eyes scrunching up.

“Oh thank you y/n you really are saving my ass.” You nodded. Refrain from thinking about his ass you thought to yourself.

“It’s really no problem Hyunjinnie you just gave me an excuse to skip spring cleaning today so you’re kind of doing me a favor.” You laughed and walked further into the studio looking around at all the canvases some complete, some works in progress, all of it beautiful chaos, typical from these men really.

“So where do you want me?” Hyunjin smirked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Jeeze pervert I still have my clothes on.” He laughed and pointed over at a drop cloth off to one corner. You walked over and turned facing him.

“I wore just my regular cotton bra and panties they aren’t expensive so I don’t care if you get paint on them...” Hyunjin walked over and helped you with your zip up hoodie as you slid it off.

“Oh... uh... well I won’t have to get paint on them.”

“Oh really ok-” You started to take your shirt off over your head as Hyunjin folded your jacket and set it aside.

“You’ll have to be completely naked for this, sorry if I wasn’t clear about that.” You turned and looked at him, blush already creeping up your chest and neck.

“N-naked?” Hyunjin hummed nodding.

“Mhm... is that okay?” He took your shirt from your hands folding it and setting it with your jacket. You shook your head up and down.

“Yea?” Hyunjin asked again. You answered.

“Yea Jinnie that’s okay.” You answered shyly. You could feel yourself flushing with arousal and you tried to get a grip. He’s an artist, a painter, a professional, so he needs to paint your nude body, whatever, no biggie. Hyunjin’s beautiful eyes looked into you as you stood there. You took in all his beautiful features. His full pouty lips, the beauty marks under his eye and on his cheek, his expressive eyes. Hyunjin licked his lips and you snapped out of your daze realizing you were staring. He cleared his throat and looked down.

“Pants.” You nodded

“Right pants.” You unbuttoned your jeans pulled them down and stepped out of them. Hyunjin bent down and picked them up his eyes closely scanning your body as he stood back up. You could feel the tension mounting between you but Hyunjin just carried on folding your pants and adding them to the pile. You stood there in your panties and bra your body burning. Hyunjin smiled sweetly at you.

“Do you need help?” You studdered like a fool.

“Uh... um... h-help?” He nodded, same sweet smile still fixed on his face so innocent.

“Yes, go ahead turn and I’ll unhook it for you...” He spun his finger around and you turned as if controlled by that one long finger. He walked up behind you and pushed your hair over your shoulder. He leaned in smelling your sweet perfume. You could feel his breath fanning across your skin he was so close. His fingers deftly worked at the hooks of your bra unhooking them. He slid the straps down your arms his finger tips causing goosebumps to errupt all over your body. The piece of fabric fell to the floor and Hyunjin bent over again to grab it. You turned and Hyunjin was eye level with your sex. He stood straight in front of you again his eyes baring down on you, like it took everything in him not to take you right then and there. You had to look away his gaze was so intense as he chewed his plump bottom lip.

“Should I help you with the panties too?” He asked with an eyebrow raised, he tongued the inside of his cheek. You shook your head getting your thoughts in order, it was like he was hypnotizing you with his beauty, with his sentuality.

“N-no... uh no... I think I can get them.” He shrugged and turned to add your bra to the ever growing pile of clothes.

“Suit yourself then.” You pulled on the waist band of your panties and pulled them down letting them pool by your feet. When Hyunjin turned around you stood there completely naked... for him. Knees turned in hands coving yourself a little. That smile graced his pretty face again.

“A goddess. Do you know how gorgeous you are?” You could feel your face heating up. You shook your head. Hyunjin tilted his head confused.

“It’s why I picked you baby.”

“I thought there was no one else you could ask...” He picked up your panties off the floor and laid them with everything else.

“No one else worth asking...” He added. He walked over to his paints and started mixing a few colors together.

“I’m going to paint a gradiant, do you know what that is gorgeous?” You nodded.

“Smart and beautiful, check.” You couldn’t help but smile and look away.

“Are you still shy baby? I could undress to if it would make you feel better.” You giggled and shook your head.

“No, it’s okay Jinnie.” He nodded and contiued explaing his concept.

“So I’ll paint a gradient of these colors from the tip of your toes all the way up to your neck.”

“Not my face too?” He shook his head and... his eyes... god.

“I could never cover that face, even if I get marked off for it, I could never cover a work of art with finger paint.” You couldn’t keep eye contact, you glanced down at the floor smiling like a fool.

“Oh..” Was all you managed. Hyunjin dipped his hands in the first color and walked up to you. When he stood right in front of you he knelt down and looked up. You looked into his eyes, why, why did you look into his eyes. You were locked again.

“It’s eaiser if I use my hands, is that okay?” Hyunjin softly smoothed paint over your feet and up your ankles. You could feel yourself flush and you hoped you didn’t start dripping down your leg while Hyunjin painted you. You nodded.

“Mhm.” He nodded back and started rubbing the color up your calves, his hands only left your body to dip into the next color. He ran his big hands up the back of your thighs spreading and mixing the two colors. He stood up in front of you his eyes baring down on you. His hands slid up just below your ass cheeks and slid towards your wet cunt, then stopped and pulled back. You let out a little disappointed breath and Hyunjin had to hide his smile. He rubbed the paint all over your ass cheeks, then down the front of your thighs and dipped his hands in the third color before walked behind you.

“Sorry I kinda have to...” Instead of finishing his sentence he reached around and cupped your entire pussy with is big hand and started softly rubbing, spreading the paint. You leaned your shoulders back into him a bit as he massaged your cunt then his hand moved up and spread the paint up your waist. That time you did nothing to hide your disappoint groan. Hyunjin smirked and dipped his hands into the fourth color smoothing it over your back and and tummy. He dipped his hands in yet another color and palmed both of your tits playing with them spreading the paint, then he pinched your nipples hard.

“Ow.” He pushed that pillowy bottom lip out at you.

“Sorry baby they need to be hard for the photos.” You scoffed.

“You’re still painting...” He nodded.

“You’re right!” He dipped his hand into the last color and quickly covered the rest of your chest, shoulders, and neck. The paint felt cool on your body. Once you were covered Hyunjin washed his hands and grabbed his camera. He started to explain how he wanted you to pose and got you into position the angle he chose to take the pictures at was, invasive to say the least. He got you on your knees for another pose sitting up straight he laid down under you with his camera and took several shots of your painted cunt, his camera was so close you clenched and Hyunjin licked his lips as he clicked and moved out from under you. You fell over on all fours and let out a indignant sigh. Hyunjin put his camera down and walked over.

“Why are you pouting beautiful?” You looked at him and your face softened. You shook your head.

“Oh yes you are, you’ve been pouting the whole time. You think I didn’t notice?” You shook your head again biting your lip.

“Oh I did pretty, I noticed that little lip...” He ran his thumb across it and you took it between your teeth again.

“You liked it when I rubbed your cunt didn’t you.” Your eyes got wider with excitement and you nodded.

“I did Jinnie... want you to rub it more... want you to make me cum... “ You tried not to whine but he’d teased you for so long. He cooed at you.

“Oh baby be careful what you ask for...” Suddenly the air changed and he grabbed you by the throat.

“You just might get it.” His eyes trailed down your body to your painted pussy. You let out a strangled moan.

“You like your new necklace beautiful? Hm? You like it when I choke this pretty neck?” You nodded, unable to verbally answer but the slick gushing from you made that abundantly clear.

“Get on your knees again... like before.” He roughtly let you go and you did as you were told. Hyunjin laid down and slid his head between your legs again.

“Go on sit on it.” You hesitated, you were covered in paint you voiced your concern.

“Jinnie the pai-”

“Did I mention that this is edible?” Hyunjin spanked your ass hard and pushed you down.

“I said sit.” His mouth made contact with your throbbing clit and immedietly started sucking on you, his hands gripping your hips urging you to grind against his face. When you did he hummed out pleased with your performance, he loved being smothered by your cunt. He spanked your ass again and you clenched and continued to roll your hips over his face while his thick lips worked miricals with your pussy. Hyunjin sat up quickly and suddenly you were on your back with your legs over his shoulders spread open for him, both of you covered in paint now. He looked at his meal in front of him and hummed.

“Hmm missed a spot.” Hyunjin’s tongue started circling your asshole before he buried his face in your ass and started eating you properly.

“Ji-Hy-oh fuck Jinnie please yes!” He pulled back and let spit trail from his lips down your ass before licking it back up and eating your cunt completely ravenous. Your thighs squeezed around his head.

“Hold my head baby fuck my face hard.” You did as your were told and grabbed handfuls of Hyunjin’s hair pusing his face into your cunt as your hips grinded arcoss his tongue and lips. Hyunjin let you ride his face as he hummed and sucked on every bit of you, until you came hard screaming his name.

“HYUN-HY-HYUNJIN FUCK YES EAT IT FUCKING EAT IT! GOD FUCK YES JINNIE!” He gently nosed at your clit and licked your glistening hole savoring your cum on his tongue.

“So sweet, like nectar, my goddess tastes like a delicasy of course.” You twitched from the soft kitten licks he was still giving you. He let your legs down and hovered over your body covered in a mess of paint now. His hand found your throat again, gently this time, he was completely different than he’d been just a moment before. Soft again, like his lips, that he pressed to yours.

“Why don’t you get a shower and meet me back out here yeah?” You nodded and he kissed you again before you ran off to his bathroom to wash the rest of the body paint off, edible or not, you were a mess. You turned on the shower and stepped under the warm stream of water. You grabbed Hyunjin’s loofa and put some of his body wash on it, sudsing it up before rubbing it across your body that was still buzzing from the orgasm Hyunjin had given you. You rubbed the loofa down your body and over your sensitive cunt. You softly moaned and dropped the loofa, you started to rub your soapy pussy. Another soft moan fell from your lips as your finger tips ran over your clit. There was a firm knock at the door and you heard Hyunjin call through.

“You had better not be playing with my pussy. I’d hate to have to punish you for touching what’s mine.” Your pussy absolutely gushed hearing his possesiveness over your cunt. Your fingers deftly moved across your clit faster and you bit your lip choking back another moan, you were so sensitive it was going to be easy to push yourself over the edge again quickly, he’ll never know, you thought.

“Beautiful? Are you listening to me?” You came on your fingers and answered in a shakey voice.

“Y-y-yes I hear you J-Jinnie.” You rubbed your clit hard shuddering through the rest of your orgasm.

“Mhm.” He answered back. You quickly finished washing up and got out. You wrapped a towel around yourself and remembered that your clothes were all out in the studio. You walked out water dripping in your towel and found Hyunjin sitting on his bed off to the side. You started to walk towards your pile of clothes.

“I forgot to grab these.” Hyunjin tsked you. His voice was demanding.

“You won’t be needing them.” You stopped.

“You think I don’t know? Hmm? You think I couldn’t hear your juices as you fingered yourself in the shower?” You went to defend yourself but the look on Hyunjin’s face shut you up.

“I guess even a goddess needs punished some times, I told you to be careful what you asked for didn’t I beautiful? Hm? I told you not to touch what’s mine yeah? And you played with that little cunt anyway didn’t you.” You nodded admitting your deed. Hyunjin walked over to you.

“Thank you for being honest. I’ll keep it in mind while I’m punishing you.” He ripped your towel off and took in your soft, clean, naked body.

“Go bend over my bed, now.” You cautiously walked over to his bed.

“I said bend over beautiful don’t make me repeat myself.” He walked over to a dresser and opened the top drawer as you bent over his bed. He walked back over by you and pushed your down further then ran his hand up your back and softly rubbed your ass cheek.

“A few rules real quick baby so we’re all having fun yeah? If you don’t like something or it’s too much you say the word red and everything stops yea?” You nodded in understanding and he bent over you pushing his clothed hard on against your bare ass, thrusting into you pushing you down more. He leaned in closer whispering the next part in your ear.

“And if you’ve got your new necklace on or my cock down your throat and can’t talk three taps and it’s over understand?” He tapped your ass three times and you nodded. He spanked you hard suddenly and a delicious sting shot through your body

“Say it!” He shouted at you.

“I understand Jinnie.” He tsked you again.

“Oh beautiful, your Jinnie isn’t here right now...” You looked back at him.

“W-what should I call you?” He smirked and walked back over to the open drawer.

“You should not speak unless told to gorgeous, you’re being punished. Eyes forward.” You immedietly did as you were told and it made Hyunjin’s cock throb seeing you so obedient for him.

He grabbed a few things from the drawer and made his way around to the other side of the bed, in front of you. He started laying his ‘tools’ down in front of you to see. A paddle and a wand vibrator.

“You’re going to get both of these and when I’m done you’re not going to remember which was supposed to be the punishment.” You could feel your pussy getting wetter just thinking about it and you clenched. Hyunjin just so happened to make it around the bed to see your hole tighten.

“Oh you think you’re gonna like this huh? It is a punishment baby and touching what’s mine is a big no no.” The paddle slapped across your ass and you clenched again and Hyunjin tsked you. He spanked you again with the paddle a little harder but not enough to really hurt you by a long shot, just enough for your body to buzz and your cunt to clench again.

“You’ve been such a bad girl you know that?” You nodded and he spanked you again.

“Say it!” He yelled and you moaned out as he slapped your ass with the paddle again.

“I-I’ve been a bad girl!” He hummed his approval and leaned over you again his plump lips pressed to your ear.

“Such a bad bad girl...fucking Jeongin in a dressing room? Tsk.” He sat up and spanked you harder and you gasped.

“How did yo-” Another slap of the paddle.

“Did I ask you to speak?” You shook your head no and another sizzling slap connected with your ass.

“To answer your question, you weren’t the only two at the mall that day and the way you both ran out of that department store completely fucked out made it pretty obvious.” He tossed the paddle, stood back, and started taking off his clothes.

“Did you let him fuck you raw gorgeous?” You thought of lying for a second but your burning ass said to tell the truth, you nodded.

“Let him cum inside? Hmm?” You nodded again.

“Such a bad girl.” You thought he was going to spank you again but he started softly rubbing your sore, red ass cheeks.

“So bad... fucking in public... letting Innie fuck your hole and cum inside?” He tsked as he grabbed the wand.

“Bad girl. Lay on your back and spread your legs, show me that pussy.” You did as you were told quickly your ass still a little numb from the spanking your arousal coating the insides of your thighs.

“Listening so well pretty girl.” Hyunjin ran his fingers up your thighs tracing through your slick, rubbing his fingers together and smiling. He parted your pussy lips and started pushing two of his long slender fingers inside you. You let out a little gasp. He started pumping them in and out slowly. Working you towards your orgasm with every brush of his fingers against your g spot.

“Are you going to cum? Tell me.” You nodded.

“Y-yes, gonna gonna c-cum.” You managed to get out between breaths.

“Go on then... cum.” Your back arched as waves of pleasure crashed against you. You were breathing heavy as the buzzing in your cunt starting to die down. That’s when Hyunjin grabbed the wand vibrator, clicked it on and pressed it against your clit throbbing clit.

“FUCK!” It was instant pleasure and pain, it was delicious, you had to scream out without permission, punishment be damned.

“Well go on cum...” Your back arched again and you saw a whole galaxy exploding behind your eyelids.

“Hy-Hy-Hyun...” You panted out. He pulled the vibrator away and checked in with you.

“Red?” He asked and you shook your head no as you started to come down again.

“Good girl.” The vibator was pushed hard against your clit again.

“Another!” You shook your head, you couldn’t. Hyunjin pulled the wand away, slapped your pussy and pushed the vibrator against you again.

“I said another! Now fucking CUM!” Your whole body contorted as you came again screaming Hyunjin’s name.

“HYUNJIN FUCK HYUNJIN!” He smiled pleased with how absolutlely wrecked you already were, being no where near done with you. He pulled the wand away and let your body start to relax again. He softly slapped your clit a couple of times and pushed the vibrator directly on it yet again.

“We’re doing this till you squirt baby so you might as well settle in.” Hyunjin made you cum three more times before you started squriting. He tossed the wand and slapped your pussy harder, your juices squirting out of you with each slap. He pushed four of his fingers against your clit and rubbed hard as your cum leaked out of you like a river.

“Good girl, fuck! Such a good girl squirting for me like that, my fucking goddess I’ll happily drink you.” Hyunjin slowly massaged your whole pussy before he buried his head between your legs licking and slurping at your pussy, cleaning your juices off. When he stopped cleaning you he gave your cunt two more little slaps that made you jump from the jolt of sensitivity. Hyunjin crawled over you and kissed you as you laid limp and utterly fucked out.

“I’m not done with you yet gorgeous, look at me.” You opened your eyes somehow.

“I haven’t fucked this pretty little pussy yet have I?” You shook your head no.

“Are you wearing my cum anywhere?” You shook your head no again.

“That’s right baby so wake up cause you’ve got a cock to ride.” He kissed down your neck and chest then crawled off you and sat with his back against his head board. You climbed on to his lap and he reached over grabbing his camera.

“Okay if I take a few pictures of you bouncing on my cock? I won’t get your face.” You line up his cock with your tender juicy hole.

“Then how will you know it’s me when you jerk off to them?” Hyunjin bit his lip not expecting that response.

“Fuck beautiful you’re right, silly me. I can’t believe I even suggested leaving out the prettiest thing.” He wrapped his fingers around your neck and pulled you down by your throat face to face.

“That cute fucked out face you make when you cream for me.” He let go of your neck smacked your ass which was still numb.

“Go on ride it.” Hyunjin sat back a little and angled the camera to get the best shots. You slid down on his cock and he couldn’t help but moan.

“God baby, your hole is so fucking tight!” You lifted your hips and sat back down on his cock again and he clicked a couple of pictures.

“I have an actual goddess bouncing on my dick right now of course I need pictures.” Click click. He took more photos. Your cunt taking his cock, your tits bouncing, your mouth dropped in to a soft moan. Click click click.

“Grab your tits beautiful play with them.” Click click again. You grinded your hips against his as you squeezed and pulled on your nipples.

“Mhmm, now your pussy, play with your pretty little pussy for me.” Click click click click.

“Are you gonna cream on my cock beautiful.” You rubbed your clit and squeezed your tit hard nodding.

“Y-yes gonna cum.” He shoved his fingers in your mouth as your cunt sucked his cock in again and again. Click click click click. He took his fingers and and traced a wet trail down your to your throat. He grabbed and squeezed tight and you clenched hard. Your face started turning red. Click click click click click click. Your soft wet walls squeeze his cock as you came. Hyunjin tossed the camera for a minute and held you down on his dick with one hand still choking you with the other. He held you down firm on his cock as he twitched and blew his load inside you deep. He finished filling your cunt and laid you back.

Your hair was spread out on the bed, your arms out to your sides, your legs spread and Hyunjin’s cum leaking from your swollen cunt. Click click click. Hyunjin set the camera down again and started stroked his cock. You were sweaty, couldn’t possibly be more fucked out... you thought. Seeing you like that had Hyunjin’s cock rock hard again in no time. He pulled your limp body so that your head was dangling over the bed, the rest of you body stretched out in front of him. He grabbed your hair tightly and lifting your head and getting close to your face.

“Can you hear me goddess?” You choked out a yes.

“You’re gonna lay here and I’m gonna fuck your throat baby, you hear me?

“Mhm.” You tried to nod. He smoothed your hair away from your face.

“Good girl.” He stuck his fingers deep in your mouth making you open wide for his cock that he slid into your warm mouth, bottoming out in the back of your throat, making you choke and gag. He pulled out and his cock was covered in your spit, he rubbed it against your face.

“You like it beautiful.” You went to answer and he pushed it to the back of your throat again, and again your throat constricted around his tip as you gagged, this time not pulling out but gently thrusting deeper, your drool dripping down your cheeks. Hyunjin grabbed his camera and took a couple more pictures of you upsidedown choking on his cock then tossed it aside again. He leaned over and started fucking your mouth harder. He pulled out and you gasped for air, taking deep breaths in while you could. Hyunjin’s hand speared your spit across your face.

“So fuckin pretty.” He shoved his cock in again. He looked at your cunt and saw you dripping your arousal and his cum still squeezing out of you.

“Does getting your throat fucked like a whore make my goddess gush?” You hummed loudly around his cock trying to nod. He pulled out again letting you get more air.

“GOD YES FUCK MY MO-” Hyunjin pushed his cock to the back of your throat, grabbed the vibrating wand and pressed it against your throbbing pussy. Thrusting deep into your mouth, holding the wand down hard on your clit. You started squirting again and Hyunjin went fucking feral. He thrusted hard into your throat once, twice, three times and pulled out.

“FUCKING YES GOD YES BEAUTIFUL FUCKING GODDESS SPRAY ME!” He flipped you around so that your cum showered him and shoved his whole cock into your cunt at once, your juices still squriting and squeezing out of you. Both of his hands wrapped around your throat and he choked you as he rammed his cock hard into your juicy cunt still spraying your cum on him with every unforgiving thrust.

“FUCK FUCK FUCK! TAKE IT TAKE IT HARD FUCK YES!” He kept his grip on your throat with one hand and shoved four fingers in your mouth with the other slamming into you, the sound of wet skin and juices squelching every time his hips slapped against yours. He took his wet spit covered fingers from your mouth and rubbed them across your buzzing clit. You were in heaven a beautiful man choking you, fucking you, playing with your aching cunt. You came again, squirting for the third time.

“YES FUCK YES SOAK ME BABY YES!” Hyunjin screamed for you. He slapped your pussy with one hand while you sprayed him, holding his cock with the other as your quivering cunt tried to squeeze him out. He shoved it hard and deep inside you. You were shaking and convulsing, a moaning mess of your own cum. Hyujin pulled out your jucies trailing out after. He climbed up your limp twitching body, straddling your neck, tugging his cock and aiming for your face. You somehow managed to open your eyes and look up. When you saw him sitting on your face, jerking his angry red cock aimed at you, you just opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue waiting for a taste. He moaned and started coming on your face streaks across your tongue and lips, a he leaned closer making sure coat your whole face.

“Fuck yes!” He groaned twitching above you as the last of his load dripped into your mouth. He stuck the tip in.

“Suck it...” You did and he winced.

“Gently...” You softly sucked any remaining cum from Hyunjin’s cock. He pulled out of your mouth and rubbed the tip against your cum covered face, then took his hand and rubbed his cum all over your face.

“Only thing this face gets painted with is my cum.” He shoved his cum coated fingers in your mouth gagging you a little. You sucked his fingers as he pulled them out.

@acciocriativity @caroline-ds-world @chansynie @ughbehavior @jquellen27 @hyunelixies @fixation-dump @lachinitaaaaa @rinrinndou @bangchans-angel @laylasbunbunny @owo-manii-uwu @armystay89 @b00dyguts @purplenimsicle @caticorn61 @lauraneuuh @channieandhisgoonsquad @minnysproutgriffinteddy @3rachasninja @svintsandghosts

“See this paint is edible too.”

Please do not repost or translate any of my works. My blog and stories are NSFW and 18+ ONLY! Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked!

#stray kids smut #skz smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #skz317cb97 #cal 🖤#skz smut drabble series

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queenimmadolla · 2 years

Note

could we have something with wayne? i love wayne 🥺 was he upset when reader first got pregnant? worried about how eddie would cope and the consequences of having a baby so young? or was he buying onesies and telling everyone in the trailer park he was gunna be a grandpa?

this was an absolute delight to write. the penny verse is an extension of another series I have (Call You Mine) and Wayne is heavily involved in later chapters. this contains a ton of spoilers for it but i don’t care all that much because I love Wayne too and I really like his relationship with reader and what I have going for his backstory with Eddie. hope you enjoy it!

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬

(Father-in-law!Wayne Munson and Daughter-in-law!Reader bonding)

warnings: mentions of pregnancy and drugs (reader does not use)

a/n: reader is 19, eddie is 20 and both are married to each other. daisy edgar jones is NOT reader, she is how i imagine Eddie’s mom to look so she’s used for the aesthetic. happy reading and let me know how you like it! as always, reblogs and comments (not jerk ones) are appreciated and mistakes will be fixed later!

more of the pennyverse here

It’s late, the sun is dipping below the earth visible to your eye, the trailer park lit only by the porch lights attached to a few of the mobile homes and light slipping through window blinds, drapes and curtains.

You’re standing in front of the window next to the front door, fingers separating the blinds and fingertips pressed against the cold glass. It’s warm in the trailer, compared to outside and courtesy of the space heater that goes above and beyond in heating your humble home.

The musical sound of Eddie, singing something of Whitesnake’s in the shower can be faintly heard but you aren’t paying him any attention. Your only focus is on the tan trailer four down from Maxine’s; spread out and relaxed in one of the lawn chairs under its awning is the Munson you’re most concerned about, at the moment.

It had been almost an entire month since you’d last spoken to him, something you hadn’t been aware of until you had purposely started to avoid him.

Your relationship with Wayne Munson was anything but complicated. Well, until recently. When you’d first met him, not only did you discover he was about as wise as he looked and not nearly as scary as you imagined him to be (reminded you a lot of Eddie, actually), but you also realized he cared for Eddie, deeply. Enough to sit you down and tell you all about how he knew of Eddie’s deep affections for you before telling you all about his relationship with Penny—Eddie’s mother—and how he hoped you two would have a much happier ending. He’d asked you to take care of Eddie then, too. If you wanted to be with him, that was. And you did, so you agreed.

Then you’d broken up with Eddie. You’d been heartbroken the entire time and positive you’d disappointed Wayne. Only, when you made your way to the trailer to fix what you’d destroyed, you had encountered Wayne again and expected to be turned away. Instead, he told you he knew you wouldn’t break your promise to him and welcomed you back.

The thing is, while you were sure he really believed you wouldn’t break your promise to take care of Eddie, you were also sure there had to have been a moment during your break up in which Wayne Munson regretted ever trusting you with his nephew’s heart, especially since that nephew was more his son than anything.

Now, you were disappointing him again. It didn’t have anything to do with leaving Eddie, far from. If anything, you were now permanently bound to Eddie, in some way. You’re pregnant, as in you have his baby growing inside of you.

It had come as a shock to you because you had no inkling that you were pregnant up until a couple of weeks ago (like two) and just as you were beginning to actually enjoy and soak in the fact that you and Eddie were going to be parents (you were gonna be someone’s mom! How fucking weird!), Eddie burst your bubble, informing you he’d seen Wayne recently and mentioned it to him.

You love Eddie. Want to spend the rest of your life with him doing stupid shit like marrying him right after your graduation ceremony and having a baby at the apparently irresponsible ages of 19 and 20, but you wanted to strangle him right then. Not just because he’d told Wayne, but also because he’d done so like he was some random person from his past who asked him how he was doing and he’d casually mentioned that he and his young wife were expecting. Wayne deserved better than that.

Which is why, after days of cowering and avoiding him (it wasn’t all that difficult, Wayne spent about 98% of his time at his girlfriend’s home—the trailer you were staring at—so you hadn’t seen him often to begin with since that romance had developed) you’re determined to talk to him. Just need a couple more minutes to work up the courage.

You aren’t stupid. Well, you are, but not that stupid. You know what most “adults” (you’re an adult, too, but you’re talking about the old ass folks) thought about you. How dumb they assume you are for marrying young and Eddie, no less (they could suck your dick, he’s a fantastic husband), and now that you’re pregnant—and not even showing all that much—you know they’d think they were right. Like having a baby with the man you loved was some giant fucking punishment. Clearly, they need to rethink who they are married to if it was such a concern for them or mind their own business.

But Wayne…god, you had no idea what to expect from him. He was one of the few people in this town whose opinion you actually respected and valued. He’d wanted you and Eddie to wait a little but still gave him his blessing to marry you because he knew nothing would stop you. Your parents had been about the same, but that’s a different, messy story. Marriage was one thing, having a baby is much larger than that.

You’d been avoiding Wayne out of fear of hearing him voice what you knew was slowly making its way around Hawkins: you’re making a mistake.

You’d be disappointing Wayne. Again.

Still, you can’t avoid him forever.

You see the man in question rattle the beer can in his hand, something you’d seen him do plenty of times on the couch outside of this trailer before he’d take the lack of liquid in it as a sign to get up, joints creaking, and make his way inside for the night.

You hurriedly slip on your coat and crash through the front door. It’s much colder than you anticipated but you ignore it and soldier on, making your way down the road.

You stare at your shoes as you sit in the empty lawn chair next to his, the cold of it numbing your butt on contact.

You know he’s not looking at you, probably still admiring the colors of the sky and taking everything in like he always is.

He breaks the silence first.

“Bit cold out for you, ain’t it?”

You wet your lips, hands curled in the warm pockets of your coat.

“It’s not so bad. I prefer cold weather over the heat.”

He hums, low and always all-knowing. You know that he knows why you’re here. Just like Eddie, he’s patient with you; letting you come to him, letting you tell him when you’re ready. You think maybe Eddie picked up that particular character trait from how Wayne interacted with him.

“I wanted─” You start and don’t finish. Another moment passes before you try again.

“I didn’t─”

Fuck! Why was this so hard? You hadn’t realized how badly you wanted to make him proud of you, after everything you’d put Eddie through (who probably put Wayne through a lot, as a result), you wanted to make up for it by being good to his boy and what was supposed to be a happy thing was beginning to feel like you trapping him. You knew that wasn’t the case, Eddie wanted the little being growing inside of you just as much as you did.

Trying to explain that to someone so much older was challenging. Trying to explain it to someone older and someone you didn’t want to ever look down on you, was practically impossible. You probably appear young and dumb.

You figure, maybe it’s time to succumb to defeat, shoulders sagging.

“You can say it.”

It’s a whisper but Wayne hears it, finally turning his head to take you in. You still can’t meet his eyes, don’t want him to see how sad yours are.

“Say what?”

“That I’m stupid. I’m ruining my life, settling. Trapping him. Screwing him over,” you don’t even notice you’re doing it, your hand moves to rest on your stomach, as if to protect your baby from the accusation you’re about to throw out. “I’m making a mistake.”

Wayne doesn’t say anything at first, just hums again. It’s not one of agreement. His thumb runs over the aluminum of the beer can in his grasp.

“You think that?”

You brave a glance at him, willing yourself to not cower under his gaze. Wayne Munson’s stare can have any sinner confessing, just from the sheer intimidation in it.

You can’t find your tongue all of a sudden, feeling like a child. You just shake your head, timid.

“Then why would I think that?”

“Uhm, because. Uh, because it’s what everyone thinks. It’s what they thought when we got married in June, too.”

Wayne chuckles, shaking his head fondly.

“Didn’t seem to stop you from going through with it.”

It hadn’t. Before you even got to the courthouse, word had spread and one of the cheer moms who worked there had tried to offer you some unsolicited advice: don’t do it.

You did it.

“There ain’t nothing ‘bout you two that’s been conventional. Always got me rubbing my scalp.”

You giggle, biting your lip to try to stop yourself but you know Wayne meant to make you laugh, tried to ease you with humor he rarely expressed. For some reason, the jokes about him balding greatly amused you.

“Are you mad? That I’m pregnant?”

“No,” he shakes his head, gruffly clearing his throat. Doesn’t do much, his voice is always raspy. “Takes two to get in a spot like that. I didn’t see it coming, that’s for sure. But like I said, you two ain’t ever been conventional. Glad to see you’re following the order of things, ‘least. I’ll be honest with you, it’s always been a little hard to picture where Eddie would end up, what he’d be doing in life. Other than playing that loud music and going to those damn noisy shows. Made me a little nervous with those girls I knew he brought around, didn’t ever meet none of them but I knew. If it had been then, I’d probably have been more scared. ‘Specially if he felt like he had to hide ‘em. Or if they had to hide him.”

Wayne leans further back into the chair, making the stiff thing look as comfortable as a recliner.

“It’s different with you. We had this conversation before. You remember?” You think you know what he’s about to bring up, so you nod.

“Mhm. You’re about how old Penny was when she had Eddie. Maybe a little younger. You ain’t married to an asshole, either. For the most part.”

You laugh again and point out, “I thought Penny never married Otis.”

Otis is Eddie’s dad. The older brother (by 10 years) of Wayne’s who swooped in and stole his best friend from him, introducing the much younger girl to a life of a hardcore drug you’d never touch and one Eddie would make sure he never had any part of: meth.

Wayne had told you she’d gotten clean when she found out she was pregnant with Eddie and stayed that way, for him. You know that’s when he fell in love with her. Sadly, their story would never involve romance. They were kept apart by Otis, distance and themselves, neither one of them speaking up when she’d returned to Hawkins with Eddie, unwilling to have him live in a meth lab. In a cruel ironic twist, she’d ended up dying of an overdose not much longer after her return; she’d been struggling to sleep with everything going on and unknowingly mixed two over the counter sleeping pills that shut her system down. She’d stayed clean only to die because she wanted a good night's sleep so she could take care of her son. Eddie had been forced by the system to live with his father, only being allowed to return to Wayne—with a shaved head when traces of the drug were found in his hair—after his father’s lab was busted.

“She didn’t,” Wayne agrees, that far off look in his eye when he recounts his younger days to you. “But he wasn’t exactly the type of man any woman would want to marry. You got lucky with Eddie, he ain’t nothing like Otis.”

You hum in agreement, mind flooding with thoughts of soft curls and even softer brown eyes. You know Wayne loves Eddie on his own and wouldn’t ever treat him differently, but you can’t help but be thankful—for Wayne—that Eddie is an almost exact replica of his mom, appearance wise. For both of them, actually. Eddie hates his father and you know he’d hate himself if he looked in the mirror and saw any resemblance.

“You got your head on right.” You snap out of your thoughts at the comment, surprised.

“Huh?”

“You might be young, but you sure ain’t stupid. I may not know everything that went on with you, but I know you saved yourself from it. You and Eddie been doing an awful lot of that your whole lives, ‘least you get to do it together now. I know you love Eddie, and I know you love that baby. So don’t you dare say you made a mistake. Would I have liked for you to wait? Sure. Hell, I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t have minded waiting either. Unless—was this…?”

“No! No! It wasn’t planned at all!” You don’t mention that you and Eddie hadn’t been using protection, just blindly trusting your birth control. He doesn’t need to know that.

Wayne sighs in relief. “See? You ain’t stupid.” Debatable. “And even if it was, I trust that you know what you’re doing. ‘S the reason I let you two live in that trailer alone.”

You smirk, happy to have the opportunity to chime in.

“Are you sure it’s not because of Ms. Maple?” You wiggle your eyebrows, not so discreetly nodding your head to the trailer behind you and the occupant you’re sure is inside.

You laugh as Wayne raises his eyes at the awning.

“Lord,” he mutters, with fake annoyance. He’ll tell you all about Penny but he won’t say a thing about Maude Maple. You suspect it’s because he feels like he’s betraying Penny in some way, even though they were never involved. Munson men are loyal.

“Is that what you came over here to pester me about? Or are we gonna keep this talk serious?”

“No,” You pout, curling your legs up to your chest. “I just—I didn’t know how to tell you. Kind of forgot we have to tell people actually, and when Eddie mentioned that he’d brought it up in a chat─”

You’re cut off when Wayne booms out a laugh, surprising you considering you’d rarely heard him laugh hard.

He’s almost snickering when he calms down, “Is that what he told you? That boy called me up and asked if we could talk. Figured it could only mean he’d gotten you pregnant, considering he already eloped with you. He was shaking in his shoes the entire time he was over, he didn’t just bring it up in a run-in.”

Your mouth drops open, eyes squinting as you think about how you’re gonna chastise Eddie as soon as you get back to the trailer. That jerk! He made it seem like it was just something that came up in conversation, not something that he’d set aside time to talk to Wayne about!

Another half of you wanted to kiss him silly for taking it seriously and having a meaningful conversation with his father figure about becoming a father.

“No wonder you were so well prepared.”

“That didn’t have nothing to do with it. Like I said, I figured you were. Not just ‘cause he wanted to have a talk, it may not be obvious to the two of you since you see each other every day, but you’re filling out a little more.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, though there’s no animosity to it. You know he’s not implying you’re gaining weight, he’s saying you’re showing.

“Winter layers can’t hide it.”

Your mouth drops open and closed, gaze darting from what you thought was your normal looking stomach to Wayne and back again.

“You’re good!” You marvel, baffled at how observant and damn near omnipresent Wayne Munson is.

Wayne looks pleased with your statement, a small smile on his face. “I know. Eddie says it’s a girl. What color clothes should I be buying my grandbaby? You got any names picked out?”

You pull your hand out of your pocket to nervously bite at your thumb. Ever since you’d accepted the fact that you were gonna be a mom (still so fucking weird), to a girl, there was only one name bouncing around in your head. You hadn’t even shared the idea with Eddie yet.

“I really like ‘Penny’.”

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erodasfishtacos · 2 years

Text

Loving You is Easy (Demi)

prompt: my baby 🥺 mlb!harry’s exploration of his sexuality and coming out.

word count: 14.3k 🥲

warnings: topics of sexuality, identify issues, bullying, toxic masculinity, smut - 18+ minors dni

Take The Hint takes place in the middle of this fic & so you might want to reread first or when Harry starts to mention YN.

This fic is my baby. I’m so so proud of it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Please please like, follow, comment, and reblog ❣️

And I really would love to hear your thoughts so please send me a message about the fic ❣️

Assumptions.

That’s what Harry’s life has been based upon since he was in little league because of his perceived dominance and masculinity.

It happened nearly every game, he’d always draw attention because of his skill.

Even at such a young age - as soon as he could bat without the tee to hold the ball, people knew that he was something special.

Women would pinch his cheek and tell his mother to watch out because he was going to be a heartbreaker with the ladies - men would chuckle and joke that they were going to have to hide their daughters from him.

It doesn’t get any better as he grows up, it actually gets worse.

The more notoriety he garners, more attention and not just based on his athletic abilities, his looks landed him almost just as much.

He was good-looking and had above average athleticism, he was irresistible for people to leave alone.

He can’t count the number of times that men have asked him how many girls he had fucked that week because he just had to be getting it all the time.

In all this time of feeling wanted, Harry had never felt more alone.

He felt like there was something wrong with him.

There had to be - because he wasn’t living up to any expectations that society has set for him and had made abundantly clear since he was young.

He was meant to have a girl on his arm, who had to be the societal standard of beautiful who would follow him like a puppy.

Since he was a young teenager, always playing on baseball teams much higher than his age level - coaches and scouts knew that he was destined for the major leagues and it was just a matter of time before they snatched him up.

Girls in high school would swoon over his chiseled jaw, the way his biceps flexed, and the baseball bleachers were riddled with gaggles of giggly girls watching him practice on the pitch.

He didn’t have a break, there wasn’t a day of practice that didn’t go by where girls weren’t coming to watch him as he played.

It was supposed to be flattering but to Harry, it was just frustrating to constantly have all these girls gawking after him when he wasn’t interested.

Harry knew that he should be enjoying all the attention from the female gaze, at least, that’s what he thinks because of how often people are making assumptions about his private life.

But that’s all these things were…

Assumptions.

Harry didn’t care about girls or dating in middle school, never really gave it another thought when he never developed any crushes on the pretty peers who were very much interested in him.

It wasn’t until high school that he realized that there was something wrong with him or so he thought that he wasn’t normal like the other kids.

Harry began to realize that he didn’t have the same interests and urges as his friends who were constantly drooling over girls in short skirts or commenting on their appearances.

He could look at a girl and think she’s pretty but he didn’t have some deep primal urge to ask her over his house so he could get his rocks off like his friends did.

It only became an issue when his so-called friends started teasing him about his lack of social life with the ladies.

They would ask him if he was gay or asexual, asked him if he was still a virgin with all the date offers he gets.

He didn’t know what he was - he didn’t know if he was gay or asexual, he wanted to have sex but he didn’t just want it to be random.

Harry now realizes it wasn’t harmless teasing, not with how much emotional damage it had on his psyche to constantly be questioned about his sexuality.

He hadn’t known what he was.

It had been a late night practice and everyone was talking about the upcoming prom dance.

“Who are you taking, Styles?” Cody, one of his teammates asks as he packs up his bag with his equipment.

“Er, not sure,” Harry shrugs, attempting to come off nonchalant and unbothered by the question - despite how cocky he appeared, he was the furthest thing from confident internally about the topic.

“Come on! I know Lana and Jessie already asked you and they’re the hottest girls in the school! Lana’s tits are massive,” Seth chimes in, offended that Harry would have the nerve to turn down the girls of his teenage dreams.

Harry feels his face get hot because he knows what this is going to turn into very quickly - as it always did.

“Is it because you’re taking your boyfriend? Or yourself? Your hand can’t be your only date forever!” Cody crows, Harry’s hackle standing up at the jab and he feels himself getting hot.

“Mind your own fucking business,” Harry huffs out instead, swinging his pack over his shoulder and turning on his heel to leave.

“You know for how good you are at baseball, nobody would know you’re a virgin. Great in the field, a dud in the sheets,” Conner can’t help but add in, all the boys were chuckling as they changed.

Harry is still trying to be the bigger person by continuing to walk away but when Seth snickers, “Y’know what I think? He’s so good at baseball because he’s making up for his small dick.’

Everyone has a breaking point.

They had managed to get Harry to hit his, which was an accomplishment but the subject of his sexuality had become more and more tender over the past few months as he really started to understand his dilemma.

Harry drops his bag at his feet, storming towards Seth with his fist coming up, raised and about to swing when their coach appears to stop anything from happening.

Seth is frowning with his hands up in surrender, eyes wide as he realizes Harry was actually mad, “I was just joking around with you. Take a fucking joke.”

“The only joke in this locker room is your baseball abilities,” Harry snarls back, it was quite the insult coming from their captain and Seth's face drops even more than before.

“Styles, hit the road,” Coach Greggs orders, pointing towards the exit of the lock room with a serious expression - disappointment in his star player’s behavior.

When Harry gets home, he bypasses his mum and sister without even a hello before he’s running upstairs to his room and slamming the door shut.

He hates feeling like this.

Like he didn’t even know who he was.

How difficult could it be to figure out what or who you’re attracted to?

He was trying to convince himself he wasn’t broken, he knew all his body parts worked, it wasn’t anything but pure mental blockage.

Thinking about having someone lay next to him in his bed, they’re kissing, taking off clothes - Harry likes the idea of that.

However, it’s not just anyone, it’s not a random hookup.

He imagines it being someone he’s in love with, he’s so fucking fond of, and they know each other so intimately - its just them in their little world, no one else had this experience but them together.

But that doesn’t make any sense.

That’s not a thing.

Harry always felt normal beside this but this was major.

This was detrimental that he figured out what his issue was or he would never have a partner, get married, have kids.

Sure, he'd probably be a successful baseball player but may be the oldest virgin on this earth if he didn't shake this feeling.

Harry decides that same night that he's going to go against his instincts and just ask a girl to the dance - maybe once he put himself out there it will change.

And as Harry was thinking about it, he wouldn't necessarily be against asking a boy either but he's not sure he's ready to explore that idea right now.

He didn't feel excited at the aspect of having a date but instead just a sad relief that his teammates won't bother him anymore.

It felt lonely and isolating.

Harry brings flowers the next day, he knows which girl he wants to ask, Yazmin - he knew she had a crush on him and she was nice, not overly concerned with what others thought of her.

The other reason he is choosing her is because she is one of the many who had made it extremely obvious that she would instantly say yes to him if he asked and he was really not trying to get rejected either.

He feels bad he's not very enthusiastic when she accepts and draws him into a massive hug with her face buried in his neck.

To avoid coming off as rude, he hugs her back until it becomes too much for him and he's pulling back with a forced smile.

The lunchroom is filled with envious glares from other girls who had either been dropping hints to Harry that they wanted to go with him or they'd be too nervous to be forward and are boiling with envy.

Yazmin begins to talk about colors, her dress, everything that people should be looking forward to for the event.

Harry...well, he was just hoping that after he asked her and she accepted that he would feel something, anything towards her whether it was a bit of fondness or admiration.

There wasn’t a question that she was pretty, her long thick black curls that fell down her back, her warm brown eyes, and wide smile.

But there was nothing, absolutely nothing that was attracting him to her at this moment as she babbled on about cool versus warm tones.

After baseball practice, he wanders in to his mum and sister sitting at the dinner table - just beginning their meal as they chat.

When he drops his backpack and duffle bag near the entryway and joins them - he's tired from all the drills and doesn't say anything more than 'hi' as he begins digging in.

"Mrs. Fields told me today that you asked Yazmin to the dance," Anne smiles with bright eyes, she was proud that he was putting himself out there - she worried about him.

Harry feels his stomach churn, he's short when he replies, not looking up from his plate, "Yeah."

"I'm so happy for you, this is going to be so exciting," Anne says before taking a sip of her tea and patting his hand.

"She's pretty too," Gemma adds to the conversation, "I think you guys are going to make a cute couple."

"I'm not dating her," Harry says sharply, using a bit more force to stab at his vegetables, "It's just an invite to a stupid dance. That's it."

"I know, dear. It's just that we haven’t seen you interested in any girls at your school and I want you to enjoy your high school experience-"

"Can I not enjoy high school without a girlfriend? Is me not being not a star athlete enough?" Harry is getting loud which isn't like him to every raise his voice at his mother, "Why does everyone fucking care? I just want to be left the fuck alone about it!"

With that, Harry is slamming down his silverware, snatching his backpack off the floor, and storming up to his room with the door shutting and the lock being flicked.

Harry doesn't come out of his room that night and refuses to speak more than a few words to them through the door.

The next morning when Harry comes down for school, dressed and ready to go, Anne tries to smooth over the situation.

She didn't know what was going on with her son and that was a new uncomfortable feeling for her - usually he was open about everything with her.

Anne didn't know what she said that had triggered the response he'd given and despite how much she wanted to talk to him about it, she knew that she shouldn't force him.

"Harry," Anne speaks up when he steps into the kitchen to make his morning protein drink, " I want to talk about last night."

"There's nothing to talk about, s'fine," He brushes off stiffly as he reaches for one of his shaker bottles and container of protein mix.

"There is. I clearly upset you last night," Anne's voice is soft and cautious, "I'm sorry. I love no matter if you want to date or not, I'm proud and excited for you no ma-"

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Harry bites back as he tries to scoop out the powder, hands shaking with some strong emotion, and it spills onto the countertop.

"I didn't say there was," Anne furrows her brow, she felt like they were on two difficult wavelengths and not really speaking the same language - having two different conversations.

"Shouldn't everyone care that I'm lined up to go pro or that with all this training, I still get straight A's," Harry scoffs as he pours the water and shakes it harshly, "Why is everyone so focused on who I'm going to sleep with?"

And with that, he's grabbing his stuff and leaving the house - Anne stunned as she sits at the breakfast nook unsure of how an innocent conversation at dinner has led to an ongoing tense back and forth with her son.

Yazmin is all over him and Harry is quickly realizing that him inviting her to the dance was also interpreted as him asking her to be his girlfriend.

But when she sat down next to him at lunch, her hand moving to intertwine with his - he didn't push her off but instead could only think about the whole lunch period about how he didn't want to be holding hands with her.

However, he noticed that all of his friends had their girlfriends cuddled up on them too and seemed to enjoy it when their girl curled into them or kissed their cheeks.

He played along.

In the locker room, after practice, well Harry wishes he could skip changing and go home because he was starting to not enjoy this time around his teammates.

"Yazmin, man," Hunter laughs as he sits on the bench to kick off his cleats, "It's no surprise you wait until the last minute to ask a girl out and you pick the hottest girl at school."

Harry shrugs as he shoves his jersey into his duffle, shoulders already tensing because of the conversation topic, "Yeah, she's nice.”

"Nice? You mean has nice tits," Luke adds and the other boys howl loudly as they mock breasts with their hands coming up their chests, "She's got huge ones. Let me know how they look when you get her topless."

Harry shakes his head, face turned away towards his locker- even though his teammates are being pigs, he wishes he could relate in a way.

He hadn't even looked at her chest or maybe he had but it didn't elicit any type of sexual response that made him want to get her naked.

It seemed like every other guy in the room had the identical response except him - normal teenage boys cared about boobs, really no matter who they belonged to.

"Yeah, I saw Casey's pair last night," Josh adds with a cocky smirk, "Let me touch 'em and everything."

Luckily, that conversation distracts the boys enough to lay off of Harry - now to focused on Josh's experience with his girlfriend.

They don't even notice when he slips out the door to head home as they all joke around and share stories.

Life was just..

Harry was miserable.

He dreaded going to school because of all the eyes on him, the fact that Yazmin wanted to be with him every free second, or his friends who were always talking about something girl or sex-related.

At practice, he got hounded by his teammates about the same things everyday and had to hear tales that he didn't assimilate to in the slightest.

At home, he was now in this weird limbo where he knows his mom and sister feel like they're walking on eggshells because of his moodiness that he refuses to talk about.

The ideas of relationship and sex were closing in on him from every angle and he just didn't want to talk about it.

He wished that when he was born someone just smacked a label on his forehead that said 'gay', 'straight', 'asexual', something so that he didn't have to figure this out himself.

Why was it so fucking difficult?

He felt broken, like his brain wasn't functioning correctly because he couldn't even decipher his own thoughts or feelings.

He'd always felt like this in a way but now that he is at the age where people begin to get into relationships and have sex - it's in the forefront of his mind.

He just has to get through the dance with Yazmin, that's it - he at least has to try to see this through with dating her.

Harry knows he's been pulling away from his family too but he doesn't feel like he's able to help it - he can’t explain what’s going on and he doesn’t want to be shunned by them too.

Because he feels like if he talked to them he'll blurt out, "I might not be straight" or "I don't know what's going on with me."

He used to think that he thought about it a lot but ever since he asked Yazmin to the dance - the only time he doesn't think about it is when he's on the field or working out.

Baseball is his only escape.

When all the boys are going out after the game, the weekend before the dance, they were all inviting their girlfriends to join them.

He didn't want to be an asshole so he knew it was only right to invite Yazmin too - he didn't want her to feel left out.

When they're all in the pizza shop, it's nearly ten at night, and they're all still sipping on Coke and eating pizza after winning the game.

Yazmin is sat next to him in the long booth, their thighs smooshed together, and she wraps her arm around his - resting her head on his shoulder.

It's a nice gesture and Harry feels guilty that he wants to push her away so he lets it happen and tries not to think too much about it.

The conversation turns into the afterparty for prom, they were renting a cabin in a nearby state park, and were planning to drink and have a campfire.

Harry had agreed to go but he really hadn't thought of the implications until Harry is driving Yazmin home that night and she seems nervous in the passenger seat.

"Is everything okay?" Harry asks as he navigates out of the pizza's shop's parking lot and towards her house.

"Yeah. It-It's just, are you excited about the dance? You weren't very talkative in there," She points out, she seems a bit disappointed but hides it behind a small smile.

Harry sighs, he doesn't know how to address it, so he lies, "I am excited, really. It's just been crazy with baseball. I'm sorry it didn't seem like I was in there. Just tired, I guess."

Yazmin perks up immediately, "It's okay, I just wanted to check. I'm used to you being really outspoken and talkative so I was just making sure."

Harry moves his hand over to her, resting it on the lower part of her thigh, near her knee, and squeezes, "It's gonna be fun."

"I can't wait for you to see me in my dress," She replies, her smile widened with his touch as she moves to put her hand over his.

"I'm sure you'll be gorgeous," He fake smiles, keeping his eyes on the road, they're nearly to her house and he presses the gas pedal a little harder.

As they pull up, Yazmin takes a deep breath before asking, "Are you going to bring protection to the cabin?"

Harry gives her a puzzled look, confused for a second by what she means by protection and she grimaces when she realizes he's confused.

"Condoms? I'm on birth control but I want to make sure we're being safe," She adds sheepishly, looking down at her hands.

How was she already talking about sex when they haven't even went further than kissing?

He didn't think he'd be expected to get intimate with someone this fast in a relationship.

"Oh, er," Harry stammers, just as embarrassed as her, his throat felt tight," Yeah, I'll definitely bring some. If that's what you uh, if that's what you want to do."

For objectively being the most popular boy in school, it was really quite ironic how backwards he was compared to the other people in his grade.

He was eighteen, everyone already assumes that he lost his virginity by this point, and it shows - he wonders if she can tell.

"I'd like to," Yazmin responds before leaning over to kiss him, she parts her lips and Harry matches her but it doesn't feel as nice as he thinks it's supposed to.

They kiss for a while in the car that night until his lips are puffy and swollen but Harry doesn't even remotely feel a twinge of any arousal.

As he drives home that night, he punches his steering wheel a few times- letting out frustrated screams into the car because he just wants to be like everyone else.

The actual event of prom goes fine.

It's easy smiling for pictures, eating at a fancy restaurant, and then going to the hotel where they all dance around to the music without anything being too serious.

The issue comes when they get to the cabin and everyone is starting to disappear from the campfire up to their own bedrooms with their significant others.

Harry waits as long as possible, until the flames legitimately start to fizzle out - he hadn't even touched any alcohol, neither had Yazmin.

She was getting impatient as she begins to wrap their hands together and kiss at his neck before finally asking, "Ready to go to our room?"

Harry agrees because he can't stay out here forever, he had bought condoms even though he was pretty sure they wouldn't be using them.

He bought them in the hopes that maybe, magically that once his body knew he had the oppurtunity to have sex that he would be interested enough to do so.

When they're up in the bedroom, Yazmin is on him, her lips finding his and kissing like they were that night in the car.

He can tell that she's nervous too but she seems much more excited and eager as she tugs off his shirt and runs her hands over his stomach before going for his athletic shorts.

She kneels down and Harry has to squeeze his eyes shut because when she pulls down his shorts - he's not at all hard.

It doesn't seem to deter her, she leans down to begin to stimulate him, and nothing happens as she does it - it’s not those amazing fireworks that his friends talk about.

He knows there’s a silent tear slipping from his eye when she finally pulls back when she realizes something isn't right.

"I'm sorry," Harry says with the most embarrassment he's ever felt in his life, "I'm- I'm sorry, Yazmin."

Yazmin pulls his shorts back up for him before standing in front of him, she puts her hand to his jaw and says quietly, "Look at me."

Harry blinks his eyes open, trying to hold in his tears as she looks at him with a concerned expression.

"Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn't mean to force you to do -" She begins to apologize profusely, getting upset herself.

It snaps him out of his own mind and his voice is firm when he interrupts her, "Hey, no. No, you didn't do anything wrong, I promise. It's me, you're-you're wonderful and pretty. It-s me."

Yazmin’s face washes with relief as he speaks, she reaches to take his hands but it's more of a friendly gesture.

"Are you..." She trails off, not wanting to make any assumptions about him.

"I don't know," He says honestly, choking up a bit on the words, "I'm really trying to figure it out and I just feel broken. This proves I am."

"You're not broken, Harry," Yazmin smiles as she shakes her head like he’s silly, "You're just figuring it out and that's okay."

"I know you don't owe me anything after all this but I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention this to anyone," Harry mumbles as he laughs a big self-deprecating.

"My lips are sealed. If anyone asks, we had amazing hot sex," She giggles as she walks over to her bag to pull out pajamas, "Want to watch a movie?"

And his prom night actually wasn't as awful as it started out, Yazmin and him laid in the massive king bed and watched a few older horror movies and made fun of the bad acting.

At some point they drift off to sleep, when they wake up, they're not necessarily cuddled together but Yazmin's arm is slung over his stomach.

He thinks to himself, this isn't too bad, and just that little thought alone makes him feel like he may not be as lost of a cause as he sometimes feels.

Yazmin and him stayed friends after they 'broke up' and she never spoke a word about what happened that night and to her, he'll always be eternally grateful that kind, understanding people exist.

The summer before college, he realized that he needed to actually take the time to explore his sexuality through research instead of continuing a pity party for himself.

He could narrow down that he wasn't entirely straight because the idea of him being in love with someone other than a female didn't sound obscure or unappealing to him.

He didn’t think it mattered who he fell in love with, it wouldn’t be purely based on their gender.

The idea of sex didn't repusle him, he wanted to have sex and he knew that he wasn't asexual.

He wanted to have a partner and have sex.

That's when it stuck with him.

Everytime he thought about having sex with someone, it was a partner, someone he was in a strong romantic relationship with - but he didn't think that was a specific sexuality.

One day, he's watching some reality television show, and when they're introducing the contestants - someone on the screen identifies themselves as demisexual.

He'd never heard that term before and he curiously puts it into the search engine on his phone to figure out the definition.

That's when he reads the definition that changes it all.

"Demisexuality is a sexual orientation in whcih a person feels sexually attracted to someone only after they've developed a close emotion with them."

Harry felt like he was having an epiphany and that the world fell still for a moment - it was like finding the puzzle piece he had been missing for years of his life.

It finally fucking made sense.

It made so much sense that he started crying, full on sobbing as he held his head with disbelief that something clicked.

Anne, who was in the kitchen, making dinner, hears the sniffles and rushes in, concerned when she finds her son crying which was completely out of the norm.

"Harry, honey," Anne coos softly, sitting down next to him and brushing his hair off his forehead before wrapping her arm around his shoulders, "What's gotten you so upset?"

"M'not upset, mom," Harry chuckles as she tries to wipe away some of his tears with the sleeve of her shirt, "I just-, I don't know how you'll react when I tell you."

"Is it bad?" Anne asks worriedl, tugging him in closer like he was still a little boy and not a big, tall athlete that was way larger than her.

"I-I'm, it's about me," Harry stutters, his thoughts now racing for a different reason, this wasn't on how he planned to tell his mother any of this but he didn't want to lie to her either.

He wanted to be himself and he wanted his family to know who he is.

"I've been struggling with, erm, who I am for a really really long time," Harry begins, his eyes glued to his feet, "And I..I finally figured it out."

"I'll love you no matter what you're going to tell me, Harry Edward,” Anne says firmly, tilting his chin so that their eyes meet and he can tell how serious she is.

"I'm pansexul and demisexual," Harry breathes out, saying it into the unvierse for the first time, it felt like a massive weight has been lifted off of his chest, "It means that I am attracted to people regardless of their gender and that I'm only sexually attracted to that person after we established a emotional bond.”

"How long have you known?" Anne asks as she holds him closer.

"I-I've known that I wasn't st-straight for a long time but I-I didn't know what exactly I was until now," Harry stutters out through tears, Anne can't remember the last time she saw her son cry and his face was damp with emotion.

"I am so proud of you," Anne murmurs but her voice was firm and serious, she moves to cup his cheeks until he's making eye contact with her, "So so proud of who you are."

"Y-You're proud of me?" Harry repeats back in a whisper, his heart felt like it was beating fast enough it was going to leap out of his chest.

"Of course I am," She laughs softly, like it was ridiculous that he could think that she wouldn't be filled with pride, "I love you so much. My little boy."

She kisses both of his cheeks before wiping the tears away once more.

Anne isn't expecting it when Harry hugs her tightly, his face tucked into her shoulder as he hides away for a moment.

She rubs his back lightly and just holds him as he sniffles, she hadn't cuddled him like this is so long but he clung to her for a long while as she whispered words of love.

Gemma is the second person that he decides that he needs to come out - he's not as worried about her reaction as his mum but it still wasn't going to be fun for him.

She had gotten home from work and disappeared into her room to most likely working on college homework like she did nearly everyday.

Harry knocks and when she calls for him to come in, he's sheepish as he comes to sit on her bed next to where she has her textbooks splayed out.

"I have something to tell you," Harry starts off after taking a deep inhale of breath, why was he so nervous? It was just Gemma.

But everyone reacts differently, people he think would be supportive of him may not agree with it and give him pushback or worse disown him.

He was nervous because he couldn't lose his sister but he also couldn't stand not living his truth any longer.

"If you took my laptop charger one more time and broke it, I swear to -" She begins with a frown as she closes her book to glare at him.

"No, it's...well," Harry begins to trip over what he wants to say and now maybe isn't the right time, maybe he should think it through more than this, "Forget about it."

Gemma realizes quickly that something isn't right, she reaches out to grab his arm and tug him back down, "What's going on? Is everything okay?"

"I have something that I want to tell you," He reiterates with a sigh, "I just don't know how you'll feel about it."

Harry explains what he had explained earlier to his mother to her, she listens intently and doesn't try to crack any jokes while he's speaking.

After he's done with what he feels like is rambling, he hesitantly looks up to meet her gaze.

"How did you think I would feel?" Is the first thing she asks.

Harry's brow furrows in confusion, "What do you mean?"

"You said you were worried about how I would feel about you telling me," Gemma explains from before he told her.

"Ju-Just that you'd be disappointed in me," Harry hates that he's been crying so much lately but he begins to sniffle.

"Oh, Harry," Gemma titters, swiping her school things off the bed so she can drag him into a hug, just like his mother did, "I would never be disappointed in you for being who you are. I love you. I'm happy that you finally feel like you've figured it out."

"I hope I find someone," Harry chuckles, wiping his face on his hoodie, "I hope I find someone who will understand, that I'll be able to fall in love with and have a normal relationship."

"It will happen," Gemma hums as she pulls back, "Just like with you figuring this out. It won't happen overnight. Now get out, I have to study."

It really doesn't happen overnight or anytime soon.

He will say that getting in to college and knowing his sexuality even if he hadn't been with anyone had let him slip back into the cocky role that he was used to.

Harry had no problem flirting with girls and guys at frat parties to keep up appearances - even though he wasn't interested in sleeping with them.

It kept his teammates from questioning him because when they saw him at parties, giving a girl his million dollar smile and telling her she's cute - they figured he was sleeping with them.

He didn't enjoy going to parties because it was only fun to fake flirt for a little bit before he wanted to leave because people were trying to get him alone in a bedroom.

Luckily, baseball and sponsorships took up a majority of him time so he wasn't expected at many frat celebrations with how rigorous his workouts and training schedule were.

Tonight though, he didn't have an excuse to not come because they had three days off that weekend.

Everyone convinced him to come, it wasn't a bad time really but he couldn't drink because he'd be kicked off the team if he got hit with an underage drinking fine.

(They definitely wouldn't kick their star player off the team but he would be in deep shit and would much rather avoid that.)

Harry had been trying to get to know people on campus, trying to create the emotional attachment that he was searching for but it wasn't easy.

It felt fucking impossible.

He learned very quickly that he couldn 't just will it to magically happen and that he has issues building those bonds with anyone.

There was a girl named Halee who he had been talking to for the past few weeks, they met in one of his statistics classes and he tried to make an effort with her.

He took her out to dinner twice, listened to her talk for ages, and he waited to feel the spark after consistently seeing her for a month.

There was nothing there.

She was at the party tonight, they hadn't gone any further than making out because Harry didn't want to force himself to do that.

Halee manages to get him alone in his frat bedroom later that night, stating that she needed to talk to him alone, and he knows it’s bad that he’s hoping she wants to break up.

But when his bedroom door shut, her lips were on his and she was pushing him back towards the bed - the exact opposite of what he wanted.

When he falls backwards onto his bed, she's crawling on top of him to straddle him, never taking her lips from his as her thighs come onto either side of him.

Harry's hands come to her hips, knowing he should try to enjoy it but also that it was no use despite how hard she grinded her hips into his.

After a few minutes, she pulls back and palms at him - completely expecting to find him hard and ready for her but...nothing.

He's not hard.

Halle gives him a confused look, she'd never had an issue with a college guy’s libido before, and she knew she was attractive.

Harry can feel his face turning red with shame but manages to give her a reasonable lie, "I think it's just because I've drank so much. I'm pretty wasted."

That seems to satisfy her concern because she giggles and drags him back to the party, promising that they can try again when they haven't been drinking so much.

However, he knows that's not going to happen because he fully plans on sending her an 'im sorry, its just not working out' text tomorrow morning.

Harry doesn't stay at the party much longer before he's retreating up to his room and locking the door to shut everyone out.

Sure, he's become more acepting of his own sexuality but it doesn't mean that it doesn't fucking suck that he can't just have a casual hook up.

The fact is the only sexual interactions he's had are where girls are coming onto him, he has to make an excuse or they'll see he's not physically into it which makes everything ten times worse.

Harry feels that sinking feeling coming back that he remembers well from his senior year of high school.

He remembers thinking that because he finally identified what sexuality he was that it was the code to cracking his life long struggle.

He wonders often whether he's truly waiting to meet the right person or if it's just something that is wrong with him.

The fake flirting, turning people down who come onto him, dating people he has no real interest in.

At some point it doesn't feel worth it to try to find his person , he wonders if there just isn't a person for him and that's a really lonely thought.

(Take The Hint) - One Shot

This girl makes him want to scream.

He didn't mean to break her fucking ipad and she has the nerve to run to the school newspaper and write an article about him.

He had apologized when it happened but she hadn't been willing to accept it, that wasn't his fault.

Harry had never had such a critique in a school paper before and he wasn't going to stand for it.

He doesn't know why he feels the need to go back and forth with this journalist from the paper but he can't stay away.

After their back and forths, he finds himself bringing her food a few times to the newspaper's office after he gets done with a long day of training.

Harry's intruigued that this girl doesn't seem to give a fuck about who he is and really hasn't given him the time of day.

But he finds himself looking forward to picking up a sandwich for her so that she can try to refuse it and give him a shy smile when he doesn't take no for an answer.

It sounds a bit dumb, Harry has spent so much of his time worried about finding the right person or building this emotional bond that he fucking misses it when it's right in front of him.

When YN walks out onto the field that day, leans over the fence and connects their lips for the first time - his insides feel like they're going to combust.

His stomach feels warm with excitement, he's eager to kiss her back, he wants to kiss her back and not stop for anything.

When she pulls away, he wants to pull her back, and join their lips again - he's never wanted to do that before.

Then when she asks, "Are you going to ask me out or what?"

Holy fucking hell.

He has never said yes sooner.

Harry was an idiot.

He didn't see that their back and forth over the past few months (even if a few of those were fights) was flirting and building this god damn connection.

It didn't seem like it at the time because in the past, he had to make conscious efforts to build relationships.

It happened naturally with her, he didn't have to think about 'wanting' to kiss her, forcing time together - he wanted to do all those things without having to plan it.

As he's walking back to the frat from practice that night, his mind is racing because he thinks he might have finally done it.

He found his person.

Harry didn't want to give his hopes up but he just hasn't felt like this before - he's had hundreds of opportunities with the smartest, most attractive people and he's never gotten that warm feeling in his stomach around any of them.

He was thinking about the next time he would get to kiss her and really kiss her - it made him feel something new but it was thrilling.

Harry has never felt more nervous in his life, he'd changed his outfit at least five times, and fluffed his hair a hundred more.

It was funny, outside looking in, despite how cocky Harry appeared to everyone - he really wasn't like that at all.

He hoped that YN would like him and he was worried because even though she forgave him, they really didn’t get off on the right foot.

There was another anxious thought bubbling up, what if he's getting too excited and it is another relationship that falls flat.

Harry nearly wants to back out because he doesn't think he can be let down like that again - he just wants to be loved and love someone.

They're set to meet at a small italian restaurant off of campus, Lorenzo's, and Harry arrives first.

Shet not there yet but he's also a few minutes early, he's trying to talk himself out of a nervous breakdown when a group approaches him, a group of middle-aged men who want to talk to the Harry Styles.

Harry smiles politely, answering questions about the upcoming games, and what he thought of their last win.

When they finally bid him goodbye after a few minutes, the group disperse and waiting patiently is YN with a small smile.

"You're really popular, huh? The Harry Styles," She greets, it was teasing but not in a mean way more curious than anything.

And Harry's mouth felt dry because she looked fucking beautiful like the prettiest thing he's ever seen.

In a form-fitting orange dress, her skin tone was complimenting the vibrant color and her curves were other worldly. ***

Harry knows, absolutely knows he wasn't just trying to make this work, he was undoubtedly attractive to her.

It was the fact that he wanted to see what lay beneath the dress, the way her breasts sat made it hard to control his gaze.

More importantly, her smile was wide and heartbreakingly gorgeous as she stared a bit confused, waiting for him to say something.

"You are gorgeous," Harry manages, it wasn't a line, it was the truth, "Sorry, you took my breath away for a moment if I'm being honest."

YN lets out a shy giggle, her hands smoothing the sides of her dress as a nervous tick, as she steps closer to him.

"You don't look too bad yourself, quite handsome actually," YN compliments, reaching out for Harry's hand so he can guide them inside.

The cocky attitude drops over dinner, well it never appeared in the first place, and YN was appreciative of that.

YN was intelligent, funny, kind, and quite honestly, everything Harry's ever wanted as she snorts out her drink at a dumb joke he makes.

She kicks off heels halfway through the appetizer and rests her foot on his thigh like they've known each other for ages.

He can't help but reach down and squeeze her ankle, fingers dancing along the ridge of the bone, and laughing when he tickles her enough to make her squeak.

For the first time, it doesn't feel forced, he doesn't have to remember that he should want to touch his date.

Harry is interested in everything she has to say from her experience on the newspaper to how she accidentally broke into a museum while she was in high school.

He finds himself laughing genuinely, not counting down the minutes until the date is over, in fact, he doesn't want it to end.

"You're actually a nice guy," YN murmurs towards the end of dinner when their plates are near empty, "Who would have guessed."

Harry winces at the dig, putting his silverware down and looking at her seriously, "I am sorry about how I treated you. I was being a douche. I don't always feel like I have a lot going for me and baseball is what I'm good at and to have that article written was a hit on my ego."

It was the most honest he's ever been with someone but he didn't even think twice about revealing his most vulnerable thoughts to her.

YN's face twist in confusion, "What do you mean you don't have a lot going for you? You have a guarantee in going pro, you have a ton of friends, and you have no shortages of girls around you."

Harry knew he wasn't ready to delve into his sexuality conversation with her, he hasn't ever talked to anyone outside of his family and Niall about it.

Instead of admitting what really makes him feel low - his sexuality and lack of relationships, he just shrugs and says, "I don't know. It's just..It's not alway easy."

"I imagine, it's a lot of pressure on you at all times. Everyone watching your every move," She agrees, her eyes are soft and she can tell Harry's thinking about something.

She doesn't force him to tell her, instead she reaches across the table for his hand and takes it in hers - but she doesn't let go.

Throughout dessert, they hold hands across the table until Harry is feeding YN a piece of strawberry cheesecake and it ends up on her lips instead of in her mouth.

"You did that on purpose," YN laughs, her tongue peeking out to wipe the sweetness away but misses the corner of her lips.

"Missed a spot," Harry chuckles, he leans over to wipe it off with his thumb and when he does, she takes his thumb in her mouth - just for a mere moment to lick it off with a cheeky smile.

Harry feels himself actually start to harden in his pants and he almost wants to panic because that's never happened before - even when girls have tried way more sexy things to get his attention.

It had been a simple but intimate gesture, it wasn't even groundbreaking to YN, she went back to eating her gelato without another thought about the interaction.

Harry had to will himself to calm down, his mind racing to her plump lips and the way it wrapped around his thumb.

If he had any doubt that YN was his person, it was completely gone now - he hadn't even known her long but to say he was infatuated with her was an understatement.

He couldn't find one thing about her that he didn't like from her beauty to her intellect to the way she giggles with a little snort when something was extra funny.

It felt like his world was shaping to revolve around hers but that scared him on the same end that he hadn't known her that long - their emotional connection was just that strong.

After the date, Harry offers to walk her home because she lives in the campus dorms - just like at dinner, very soon into the walk she takes off her heels and shoves them in her purse.

Harry doesn't know if he should make a move, this was all so fucking new, and he felt like he was years behind on what he should know, basics about dates.

YN wasn't hesitant or coy, she quickly intertwined their hands as they walk, bumping shoulders as she points out where her classes are at certain buildings and what she hates about some of her awful professors.

Harry wants to cry because it's just so nice to hold someones fucking hand, that's all he's wanted for so long.

When they arrive at her building, YN digs out her keycard, giving him a pouty expression, "I'm sad our date’s over. I really did have a good time."

"I had an amazing time," Harry tells her seriously, "Will you go out with me again?"

YN squints up at him, with puckered lips, "I'll have to think about it."

Harry's heart drops.

"Oh my god," YN bursts out laughing, "Your face. Of course, I'll go on another date with you, I had fun."

"S'not funny," Harry mumbles grumply as she giggles at his reaction.

"I'm sorry, I'll make it up to you," YN hums, stepping into his space and leaning up until their lips meet.

Harry's frozen for a moment, it feels like sparks, like everything finally makes sense but he doesn't realize that he actually physically froze because YN is pulling back.

"Shit, I'm sorry I though-" She begins to apologize profusely, thinking she read the situation wrong.

Harry takes a deep breath, channeling his confidence, and he steps forward into her space now - hands coming to cup her face and bring their lips together passionately.

Their lips move in perfect synchronization, his tongue swiping against her lips until she opens, and he can get entrance.

Her hand comes up to his neck, keeping him close as they kiss, it feels like his first real kiss, and he can't get enough.

When they finally pull back for air, her lips are swollen and she has a starry-eyed smile on her face.

"Goodnight, Harry," YN murmurs softly, pecking his lips one last time before swiping her card and going into her building.

Fucking hell, he was gone for her.

He could not stop thinking about her.

Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes squinted when she was teasing him - this had to be what being in love felt like.

Could it be this easy?

As soon as he gets home, he sends her a text.

Thanks for giving me a chance. I really had a great time. Are you free next Friday?

It barely takes any time for her to respond and he finds his lips turning down at her response.

Are you fucking with me?

He decides to take the more cautious route, reading his text conversation, and he doesn't think he said anything wrong.

No? Did I offend you??

Yes.

As soon as he receives the message he's typing out an apology for whatever he might have said to trigger her to be upset but right before he hits send, another text pops in.

Offended you're not asking me to hang out sooner.

Harry totally does not squeal like a school girl as he smiles stupidly at his phone for the next few moments before remebering to actually text back.

I have a game tomorrow and Sunday but we could hang out Monday night x

They agree on that.

When the next day comes, he feels more energized than ever to do good on the field today - he always thrived but YN was really boosting his confidence and overall happiness.

He struts on to the field, he always displayed arrogance on the field no matter how he was feeling on the inside - he wanted to intimidate people and let them know that he's the best.

At the mound, he kicks the dirt a bit and adjusts his hat in a little ritual he always did before scanning the crowd - it was always a full house in the stadiums because of him.

His eyes do a quick skim of the crowd but stop when he's sees YN sitting in the stands without her iPad or notepad - she's sitting with a friend.

Harry's heart leaps as he gives a dimply smile that was exclusively for and he tips his cap towards her in greeting.

She blows him an exaggerated kiss and a small wave as the announcers begin the game.

Harry doesn't know if he's ever had a game that good - he had been on fire the whole time, multiple strikeouts, a home-run, and overall good plays.

When the game’s over after the post-game interview and compliments, instead of heading straight to the showers, he wants to talk to YN but she's no longer in the stands.

He tries not to think too hard about it as he goes into the locker room to shower, in a noticeable less than happy mood.

Harry's actually the last one out, he drags his feet getting into the showers, and lets the hot water just hit against his sore muscles.

By the time he gets out, wrapping a towel around his waist, and stepping over to his duffel - he nearly screams when someone appears in the locker-room.

"What's taking you so long? I've been waiting out there for ages," YN complains with a raised eyebrow, a smirk on her face when she's met with his strong, damp chest - his pec twitches.

"Er," Harry stammers as he stares wide eyed at her, "I didn't think you were waiting for me."

YN shakes her head, "Why wouldn't I? Am I being too subtle about dropping hints that I like you?"

Harry’s chest seizes because he doesn't want her to think that, "No no, it's me. M'sorry I'm fucking this up. I just, yeah..."

I just can't tell you why yet.

Be patient with me.

"I know you've been with a lot of people, okay? I'm not here to use you and lose you. I want to see where this goes," YN seems frustrated as she explains herself.

"I do too. M'sorry," He apologizes again, the opposite of the cocky asshole she met, "I'm really, really into you."

And you're the first person I've said that to without lying.

"Yeah?" Her words are quiet, bashful as she glances down at her feet for a moment, like she wanted to hear the affirmations from him.

"Of course, you're gorgeous, smart, out of my league, if I'm being honest," He tells her with a raspy chuckle.

"I think you have it backwards," YN murmurs but she's walking towards him, and just like yesterday, kisses him fiercely.

God, he's never going to get tired of this.

He instantly reciprocates her advance, hand moving to the back of her head to cradle her skull and keep her close.

His stomach muscles twitch when her hand comes to his chest, rubbing up and down his abdominal definition, and thumb teasing at his happy trail.

It indescribable how just the simple touch is turning him on, he can feel himself harden at the movement and he can't help but push his tongue into her mouth.

They get startled when a janitor steps into the lockeroom, a tired look on his face when he spots them, "I'm locking up. Get lost, kids."

YN giggles as Harry flushed with embarrassment before she's leaving him to get changed and waiting outside for him to walk her home.

The next three weeks were an absolute whirlwind of hanging out in YN's dorm room cuddled together on the tiny bed, watching movies in his room in the frat, Harry stopping by the newspaper office constantly after practice to make sure she ate and then walkingher home, and then on the weekends they were going on dates and YN was coming to watch his games.

He knew that he was in love, he didn't care what anyone had to say about a certain amount of time it took or it was too soon.

Harry had found his person.

The puzzle piece that was missing his whole entire life was wrapped up in a gorgeous girl who bullied him, cuddled him, and gave him attitude when she didn't get her way.

He couldn't imagine anyone better.

There was one major issue, Harry had yet to tell her about his sexuality or the fact that he was a virgin.

He didn't blame her for making assumptions that he had a high body count with the way he flirted at parties - that was in fact the appearance that he was trying to give off even though it was further from the truth.

Harry wanted to tell her but when revealing that he was demisexual that was also telling her that he was head over heels for her.

And even though YN seemed nothing but understanding and accepting, it's different when you're in a relationship with the person.

She doesn't know whether it would matter if he was pansexual, if it would freak her out that he wasn't soley attracted to females.

As much fun as he was having, enjoying this new relationship, there was a lot of anxiety - he hadn't felt this much weight on his chest since high school with Yazmin and prom.

They hadn't gone further than kisses but it wasn't because of lack of arousal, he was so attractive to her that it didn't make sense.

However, up to this point, she hadn't pushed to do anything further than that and he wasn't ready to take the first step either.

It's a standoff until it's not.

YN and Harry are in his frat, they prefered it there for his queen size bed and he had a bigger television that they could binge watch shows on.

It was after a mid-week game, they had done exceptional, and Harry was truly convinced that YN was his good luck charm.

It was late, they both had class tomorrow but YN was sleeping over for the first time because Harry couldn't part with her.

They were in the middle of watching Great British Bake-Off and critiquing their bakes like either of them could do anything close to as good.

YN is tucked into his side, head of his chest but she squirms until she's looking up at him with a frown.

"Whassit?" Harry rumbles as he blinks heavily, his hand coming up to brush her hair out of her face - he couldn't get over how fucking pretty she was.

"Didn't kiss me enough today," YN huffs like she just realized the problem, her bottom lip pouted out.

"Didn't give you enough kisses, huh?" Harry repeats with a raised brow, his thumb coming to pull at her lower lip, "I haven't been very good to you, have I?"

"Absolutely awful boyfriend," YN agrees and everytime she refers to him as that, his stomach flutters.

"Or maybe I've just given it to you too much so now you're a demanding lil' thing," He hums but he's pulling her up so that their lips meet.

Harry can't help that he gets hard everytime they make out, maybe it’s a rookie thing or maybe most guys that's normal for - he wasn't sure.

But Harry and YN had never acknowledged it and as weird as it sounded - it felt good to get hard even if there wasn't relief at that time because it’s more pleasure and arousal than he's ever felt.

There was no way he wasn’t truly fucked - this girl held everything in her hands, she had so much fucking control over it and she didn't have one fucking clue.

YN's hand is rested on his stomach but at some point she moves it, she moves it right over his bulge in his nike running shorts, and palms at him.

Harry moans embarrassingly loud and sucks in a gasp at the sensation of someone else touching him like this for the first time.

YN pulls back startled like she hurt him and begins to apologize because of his visceral reaction but Harry joins their lips needily before murmuring, "Please baby, don't stop."

"Okay, whatever you want," She simpers quietly, her lips coming to his neck to kiss and nip at the skin as she feels out the shape of him over his thin shorts - thick and ready for her.

Harry is trying to keep his eyes open but it feels so new and euphoric that his lids are heavy as she thumbs over the sensitive tip.

"Take your shirt off," YN requests, not taking her hand off as he rustles hurriedly to get it over his head, "Slow down, we're not in a rush."

It was lightly teasing but it made insecurities tick a bit because he didn't want to embarass himself in his first sexual experience.

His stomach is sucking in at every other touch, his butterfly tattoo dancing as his ribcage outlines against his skin.

Her hand lazily moves upwards again but is taking the liberty of dipping into his shorts and briefs.

He twitches when her hand wraps around him, thumb tracing along the vein on the underside before circling at his already wet tip.

"M'gonna take my time with you," YN promises as she helps him slip the rest of his clothes off, her eyes locking with where he's hard for her.

He feels self-conscious, the first person to see this part of him in this intimate way - it was the most vulnerable he ever felt.

"You're so pretty," She murmurs happily as she begins to give him light strokes, "Makes sense why you have big dick energy. You're massive."

He has to clench his teeth to avoid coming at her words because it was all too much as he kept his hips on the mattress as she twists and tugs with the perfect amount of pressure.

"I-It feels so good, baby," Harry breathes out, he's on the verge of panting when her hand comes to roll his balls delicately.

"Yeah?" YN muses with a devious smile before she's ducking down to lick at the swollen head before suckling at it.

"Fuck, m'sorry," Harry groans as he feels his orgasm start, "S'good, you're so good. Fuck, you're amazin, sweetheart."

He can tell YN is a bit taken aback by his lack of stamina but she swallows as he pulses in her mouth.

When she sits back up, Harry is trying to catch his breath, "I'm so sorry. I just-"

"Stop apologizing," YN tells him firmly, leaning over to pepper kisses over his chest and tummy, "That was perfect. You look so handsome when you come."

Harry preens at the praise, he knows she’s probably just making sure he doesn't fell bad but it seemed genuine.

"Let me take care of you," Harry says after a few more moments, he knew his cheeks were flushed and his chest red with a blush of postorgasm haze and embarassment, what a mixture.

"You any good at it?" She jokes as she playfully licks his nipple before moving to take her own shirt off.

Harry freezes, he knows he probably looks like a deer in headlights before quickly wiping it off his face.

He doesn't respond but instead knocks her hands out of the way to pull the shirt over her head himself.

Her breasts were fucking perfect where they sat in a plain black bra with a little lace detailing on the edge of the cups.

Harry didn't know if he would survive this, he felt like a stupid teeanger as his hands were shaking with nerves.

This was more nerve-wracking then when he played in the playoffs for baseball or when a college scout came to watch his game.

He sits up and rearranges them until she's laying on her back and he's on top where he feels like he has a bit more control of the situation.

By some grace of god, YN's bra unlatches with a front clip and when he undoes it, it falls to either side and her tits bounce out.

"Holy shit, darling," Harry huffs out in awe, her nipples were already hard and so fucking pretty.

"What?" YN asks in a mere whisper, when he looks up at her - his heart sinks because he was so focused on himself that he didn't even think about how she might be feeling.

It was obvious that YN was a bit nervous too as he revealed her like he might not like how she looks - she’s squirmy and doesn't look him in the eye.

"How are you so fucking beautiful?" Harry shakes his head in disbelief, moving to cup them and they're soft in grip, warm, and good god, he's in love with them already, "Look at you, s'unfair."

YN lets out a pleased giggle and Harry can't wait any longer, he's fucking down to wrap his lips around one of the buds and suckle as his other hand rolls her other nipple.

"Oo-oh," She gasps out, pushing her chest into him, and he was sure that he wanted to hear her moans of pleasure for the rest of his life.

She was responsive to his touch, whimpering and asking for more through her body language as he switched between them and teased them until they were damp and puffy.

"Please, H. I'm so wet," YN begs as her hips move in frustration, her hand weaving into his hair and scratching at his scalp.

"You're wet for me?" Harry pulls back, their eyes meeting and he couldn't believe - he was turning her on even if he didn't know what the fuck he was doing.

"Stop teasing me," She demands with a pout.

He really wasn't.

Harry felt like he was in a movie in a way.

He dreamed about this for so long.

Being so in love with someone that he would want to have sex with them.

It happened and it was happening right now.

If it didn't feel so good, he wouldn't believe it.

Harry may or may not have utilized the internet to search about how to please a female.

He hadn't wanted to come into this and not be able to return the favor - it wasn't that he was uneducated about sex or didn't know the logistics of how to do it.

He didn't want it to be just okay.

He wants to show her how much he's truly gone for her by making her feel the same pleasure she's give to him.

Harry takes his time kissing down her soft belly, biting at the plush on her hips to make her squeak before he's shimmying her shorts and underwear off.

Harry has never felt so primal in his life when he's met with her mound and puffy folds, glistening with arousal, and he wanted to devour her.

The hesitance is gone as soon as he sees her for the first time.

He's spreading her legs and nuzzling straight in between her folds, lapping at her with excited, eager strokes.

Fuck, she even tasted good.

"Harry, fuck," YN mewls when he finds her clit, it wasn't hard with how swollen and hard it was for him - dragging it between his lips and suctioned it.

Her legs are restless like she wants to close them, her hands balling into the sheets as he relentlessly goes at her.

"Oh my god," She gasps as she bucks upwards, trying to ride his tongue - it was by far the hottest thing that had ever happened to him.

He couldn't believe he was actually doing a good job his first time, he knew she was actually close because he could feel her throbbing and getting wetter for him.

Her hands move to his hair, gripping it to keep him close to her center as she punches her hips up to find the friction she needs - it was beautiful watching her chase her pleasure without any shame.

He wanted to do this with her for the rest of his life and he knew it wasn't just the sex talking at this point.

She was it for him.

His chest swells in pride when she finally tips over the edge, a continuous stream of soft whining moans out of her mouth as her hips slow down and rest back against the bed - her limbs loosening.

Her face was damp with perspiration, long locks stuck to the side of her neck, and her chest was heaving and falling quickly as she tried to catch her breath.

"That was the best orgasm I've ever had," YN murmurs in awe, goading him back up until they’re kissing in short little pecks and he's brushing that sticky hair off her skin, "You're so good at that."

Harry's internally preening with the compliment, thrilled that he was able to get her off the first time ever doing something like this.

It was dangerous though, he knew already that he was going to crave her, she tasted amazing, it was addictive to be around her.

Everything from her smile to her laugh to the way her folds glistened with her arousal - it was all consuming.

Harry knows the longer they're seeing each other that he needs to tell her but the second he tells her about his sexuality, he's basically confessing his love to her.

He begins to feel like he's living this lie because YN occasionally makes a joke about how experienced he is or how many people he'd been with and he doesn't ever deny it.

To be fair, he never confirms it either but that even feels like lying.

One day while they're at lunch in a little bistro on campus, tucked away in the corner so people don't continuously harass Harry like always.

"I..I shouldn't be surprised at how good you were," YN murmurs shyly, they were talking about last night and when he used his mouth for the first time, "It's just...for me, I've only been with two other guys and it wasn't at all like that."

"They sound like idiots who didn't deserve to give it to you anyways," Harry has to swallow down the possessiveness of two other people having her like that.

She was his.

YN shrugs noncommittal as she sips on her peach tea, "They were okay but not as experienced as you. They hadn't been able to make me, you know...finish."

Cue his chest swelling with pride once again.

YN glances down at her plate, suddenly not making eye contact with Harry and he frowns at that, "What's wrong?"

She shakes her head, letting out a short laugh, "I just feel embarrassed, I guess. I know that I don't have as much experience as you. I've heard the stories of you taking all those girls upstairs at parties. It's not, it doesn't bother me but I...I just worry I'm not going to be good enough or compare."

Harry's heart sinks into his stomach and he knows now would be the absolutely perfect time to actually come clean that all those experiences were fake.

He chokes though, his throat tightens up and he can't find the words but he can reassure her, and he's not lying when he tells her, "Hey, I've never had a better experience than last night and m'not lying. You were amazing, fuckin' perfect. I can still taste how sweet you-"

"Ssh," YN giggles, the mood already lightened again as she chucks a chip at him because she doesn't know if anyone is eavesdropping, "I get it. Thank you."

"Anytime, babydoll," Harry drawls cheekily, exerting confidence when inside he's absolutely panicking.

Tonight it is the night.

Harry has nearly canceled three times because he doesn't know if he can do this.

He's so fucking in love with YN.

So fucking gone for her already that he doesn't know how he could lose her if this isn't something she's okay with.

Logically, he knows that if she doesn't accept him for who he is that she's not worth his time but fuck, he loved her.

YN was it for him, he didn't care how early it was or if you’re ot supposed to say that yet because they haven't been together long.

It was the truth though.

Harry wanted to try to make it as casual as possible when he brought it up so he invited her to sleepover after an away game.

He'd organized his room, cleaned his sheets, bought her favorite snacks, and laid out a shirt that she'd want to sleep in.

When she knocked on his bedroom door, one of his mates must have let her in, his hands were physically shaking and his smile was forced through nerves.

"Hi," YN huffs as she brushes past him to drop her overnight bag, "I brought a bag of chips but Niall literally stole them out of my hand and ran away like a little goblin -"

"I have something I need to tell you," Harry blurts out as he quickly shuts the door and leans up against it - he felt like he was about to have a full blown panic attack.

YN freezes from her rant, eyes meeting his with concern at his behavior and his body language, "Is everything okay, H?"

Harry squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and tries to breathe out of his mouth, voice quaking, "I-I don't know."

Fuck, why did he feel like he was going to cry.

"Harry," YN murmurs from where she's sat on his bed now, "You're freaking me out a bit. What's going on?"

"I haven't told you something, important about me," Harry sniffles, he couldn't control the tears that were rolling down his cheeks, and he felt like that scared high schooler all over again, "And I'm scared you won't want to be with me if I tell you."

YN's brow furrows, she doesn't know how to respond because she doesn't know what he's been hiding from her.

"Tell me," She asks softly, her heart was pounding too - she didn't know if he was going to break up with her or tell her he already cheated but she was worried just as much as he was.

"M'not straight," Harry finally whispers, looking down at his feet and avoiding her gaze all together, "I'm pansexual and demisexual. I haven’t been with anyone other than you, ever. God, I know I sound like such a fucking loser."

"Come here," YN responds firmly, her eyes serious and he can't read her expression which makes everything worse as he cries, sniffling and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand.

He listens though, cautiously walking until he's in front of her - eyes still looking anywhere but at her.

"Look at me," YN prompts once again, waiting until his watering green eyes finally meet hers, "I love you, no matter what your sexual preference is or how many people you've been with."

"You-You love me?" Harry stutters out with another sob, he felt like such a baby but his heart was fluttering and butterflies were turning his stomach.

"I thought I've made it obvious but yes, I do," YN smiles sweetly, pulling him down to kiss him despite his damp cheeks, "I love you as you are. I accept you as you are. You're perfect."

Harry blinks away his tears, letting her cup his jaw and bring him in for short but soft pecks over and over again.

"I know what pansexual is," YN says against his mouth before pulling back a little, "I don't know what demisexual is."

After Harry gets done explaining to her what his sexuality means to him, what he defines as being demi sexual - he's alarmed when he notices tears in YN's eyes now.

"I'm- Are you-" Harry begins to ask but she cuts him off.

"I'm your person?" YN repeats his words from earlier, she sounds like she’s a bit in disbelief that this is all happening.

"You’re my person," Harry agrees, kissing her forehead, nose, lips, cheeks, "I'm so in love with you. It's only ever been you. Only ever will be."

"I love you," YN gasps against his lips, bringing him in for another kiss but this time it's more heated with more purpose behind it as she pulls him down on top of her.

YN and Harry are equally frantic as they tug off each other's shirts, lips wandering over bare skin, and YN whines loudly when his lips wrap around her nipples and suck at them.

She's hurriedly pushing his shorts and briefs off his hips before allowing him to nearly rip her panties with the eagerness to have her bare.

As Harry's mouth teases at her breasts, switching between harden buds and nipping at them - her hands are twined tightly in his hair and holding him to her.

His cock is painfully hard, wet at the tip as he grinds it against her mound - the friction already good.

On one thrust, his length slips through her folds and his swollen head is pumping at her clit - making them both let out a surprised moan at the sensation.

"Need it," YN whines as he pumps his hips, the wet slide against her core was new to him but it felt like heaven, "Please, H."

And he knew what she was asking, he wanted to give it to her but he was scared that it wasn't going to be good.

"It's my first time," Harry mumbles embarrassedly, even though he had already admitted that to her, "I don't know how long I'll last,"

YN wriggles her hips, hissing in pleasure when his cock drags against her slit, teasing at pushing in before pulling away.

"It's okay, baby," She assures him, petting at his hair, "I just want you, please. I don't care how long you last, just want you. Want to make you mine."

Want to make you mine.

Holy fucking shit.

"Yeah," Harry rasps, voice deeper than ever, feeling a building up in confidence at how bad she wanted him right now.

He was so used to being the best at everything.

He was the best baseball player in the college leagues.

He was the best pitcher to ever attend Duke.

He was the first person to get an MLB draft pick before graduation.

He wasn't used to not being confident in hai abilities but he truly felt the love radiating from YN and knew that she just wanted him however she could get him.

Harry takes a deep breath, hand shaking as he grips himself, positioning at her entrance, and when he pushes in - he knows he moans loud enough that the whole house will be able to hear him.

"Shit, baby," Harry mewls as he drops his head down to take a deep breath before moving, "You feel so good. Fuckin' hell."

"H, move please," YN begs as she wraps her legs around his hips, "You're so big. Feels amazing, please honey."

Harry nods, one more deep breath before he's pulling out nearly to his tip before thrusting back in - the hot, velvet of her walls squeezing him and it was surely what euphoria felt like.

He can feel his orgasm already brimming over and it couldn't have been more than a minute or two - between the feeling around his cock, how pretty the noises she's making are, and the way her tits jiggle with every stroke - he can't last.

"M'sorry," Harry groans as his stomach starts to tense, "M'coming, you feel so good. You're gonna make me come."

With that, he's speeding up and pounding in harder than before - YN’s hand reaches down to rub expertly at her clit until she's clenching up around him and whimpering as her thighs shake.

Harry pulls out after a moment, ducking to grab his discarded tee shirt to clean them both up - he knows his cheeks are twinged pink with embarrassment.

"Hey," YN giggles, grabbing his attention and squishing his cheeks between her hands as she grips his chin, "Don't get all shy on me now."

"M'not being shy," Harry pouts as his words are muffled from his cheeks being smooshed, "I just look like a dickhead, I just came in a fuckin' minute."

YN rolls her eyes, fuck she's so pretty, her skin was literally glowing, "So what? Just means we get to practice more."

Harry chuckles, already feeling the tension ease form his chest, "For the rest of our lives. I only want this with you, ever. My body is yours."

"And I will always love it," YN murmurs more seriously, forehead pressed against his, "I love you for you. I accept you for you. You’re perfect and you're enough."

And after this, Harry never ever doubts that YN is the one for him - not in a few days or a decade when they're married and have four little babies running around that look just like him.

You are never alone.

There is always someone ready to listen, there is no struggle too little or too big.

The world needs you here.

Trans Crisis Line

LGBTQIA+ Crisis Talk, Chat, or Text

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chrisevansdaughter · 1 month

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Hello buddy!, I was thinking about something about Chris Evans x daughter reader, also do this if you feel comfortable, but it would also be with Alba Baptista, you are their daughter, and I don't know, how would they both be with you, or if you want Invite your friends to the house, what would they be like?🥺❤️

Thank you anon for this ask I hope you like it, and thank you for all for still interacting with my page even though I’ve not been active a lot. It’s good to be back!

“it was you, your dad and Alba”

Chris Evans x daughter!reader (featuring Alba Baptista)

What would they be like with you, I could imagine this is during your teen years,

They’d both be insanely supportive and proud of you of course, they love you to all end of the earth.

Chris especially because he’s always wanted a daughter because every dad wants to have the status of “girl dad” it’s all he ever dreamed of. So when he finally had you with your mum (his ex wife). You couldn’t wipe the smile off his face or the giddiness that was infectious.

When Chris and Alba got together when you were 13 of course you would shy away at first but you were like that with newer people in your life. Because she was going to be apart of your life, you saw the way your dad looked at her, how he was enchanted, the same look he had when he found out he was a girl dad 13 years ago. You knew he found the one.

Alba was nothing but kind and pleasant with you, she knew it would take time for you to get used to having her around but she’d always do it on your terms, it became a thing every 2 weeks at the weekend you’d go on a girls date and get your nails done. Because it’s an “Abla & y/n thing” or at least that’s what your dad called it.

She never expected to you to call her mum, but really you loved to have a maternal figure in your life, you’d expressed it to your uncle Scott that you loved it and that it was nice to now have someone else you could gossip about your girl problems to, but Scott was still the best at it.

When it came to friends and them coming over they were both more than happy to host them, as Chris knew more than Alba your friends were your rocks and they did help you though the tough time of when you were still really unsure of the relationship your dad had, because you felt it was new and a very sudden change that you didn’t cope too well with. Chloe, Ben and Millie were life lines for you too, and to be fair your whole family loved them too.

Looking back, Chris couldn’t be prouder of you, for accepting alba in to the family and into the little unit you and your dad had become after being alone in each others company for so long. It was just you and your dad. But now it was you, your dad and Alba.

taglist!

@mcuamerica @limxrxncx-blog @angelbaby-fics @angelbabydoll28 @ace-of-gay @chrisevansonly @lu-morningstar @sarahrogersevans @aliciacat20 @buckybarnesandmarvel @cevansgirlf @writersblog20 @youre-amazing-say-it @dumb-fawkin-bitch @imyourbratzdoll @anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount @mrvlxgrl @stuckysgirl27 @nana1000night @marvelstarker-mha98 @f10werfae @full-timephoebefanatic @hulkstacos @jessybarnes @thatsamericasazz @haleyhunwritingss @haleybr @buckymcbuckbarnes

if you guys would like to be added to my tag list please do comment or just send in an ask:)

Reblogs, feedback and asks are appreciated <3

#chrisevansdaughter #chris evans daughter #chrisevansdaughter loves 💖❤️#chris evans #chrisevansdaughter speaks 🫶🏻#chris evans x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x daughter!reader #chris evans fanfic #alba baptista #alba baptista featured #chrisevansdaughter online 💖

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jeonqkooks · 2 years

Text

our beloved summer | jjk (04)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, the word "dick" is mentioned a few times lol, jeon jungkook (yes, bc at this point he's annoying even to me), yoongi is a menace, oc is fighting with everybody asdfgjkl girl 🙄, inaccuracies about music making !! and i hope obs readers aren't music majors bc that'd be really embarrassing for me lol, idk i think that's it

rating: PG-15

word count: 16.3k

note: a major thank you to @daechwitatamic for beta-ing this for me and for doing it so fast!!, you are a gem ily jo 🥺🥰 aaaaaand omg yeah! i can't believe the duck is here. he's finally here!!! ah we love to see it hehehehe :') it feels fitting that obs4 is the one to close off 2022 <3

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Ask your new lover what it's like to be given A real fighting chance before you wish her, "Good riddance,” Did anything ever really count Or was I just a two-year practice round?

Before - NIKI

Ah, the grand opening of Jimin’s own dance studio. It’s been in the works for a while now, ever since he quit his job as an instructor at that fancy academy downtown.

When you arrive at the venue, the event is already in full swing. You would’ve come sooner, to see Jimin before things get too hectic and more people would want to steal him away to say their congratulations. You could’ve come sooner, had you accepted Jungkook’s offer to drive the both of you here. It’s the less time-consuming option, and one that’s more environmentally conscious, but you didn’t want to be left alone with Jungkook – not after what Namjoon had unintentionally revealed to you – in a space where you couldn’t force him to just talk about work while Jimin went to mingle with his guests, and Taehyung couldn’t get off work any earlier than 6:30.

You have to hand it to Jimin. He really went all out for this. The venue he booked looks amazing, and so much bigger than you expected, but that’s probably to accommodate the shit ton of people he invited tonight. There’s catering, cutesy party favors, and most importantly, an open bar that you absolutely would die for. Bless Jimin and his excessive spending heart.

Although, the photographer that he got for tonight can’t exactly be considered great. He looks young, maybe early 20s and still hasn’t learned how to lose the attitude yet, just walking around with his hefty camera and looking like he has a stick up his ass. He’s definitely being underpaid. Jimin must not have taken this factor into account until he had already exceeded his budget.

“Oh, Jiminie,” you mutter to yourself like a mom whose child just won the school talent show, making a beeline for Jimin and pulling him into a hug, not caring that he’s holding a flute of champagne that could’ve easily spilled onto you. “Jiminie, I’m so proud of you. I know how hard you’ve worked, and you deserve this so much. I love you. You’re going to be amazing.”

Every single syllable that slips from your lips is genuine. You’ve seen how passionate Jimin is, and you know how long this has been a dream of his. In your eyes, he deserves the absolute world and more.

You kiss his cheek to emphasize the meaning behind your words. You’ve never been the sentimental type with your friends except for rare occasions like these. On birthdays, you're not the one to shoot them the first happy birthday! text at 12AM on the dot, nor are you the one to plan surprise parties and go all out on extravagant presents.

You have your own way of showing your friends that you love them without any grand, tacky gestures. You like to think that you’re a good friend, and you hope they think that too.

But… you feel guilty today. You feel guilty for even toying with the idea of not going just because you didn’t want to face Jungkook in a setting that wasn’t the studio. When Taehyung asked if you had gotten the invite and you couldn’t confirm your attendance right away, he looked at you like you were out of your mind. He looked at you like Why wasn’t dropping every single one of your plans not the first thought that comes to mind when you received the text. Because this is Jimin you’re talking about. One of your closest friends. The incredulousness on Taehyung’s face that night made you feel small because really, you were being selfish.

After the breakup, you repeatedly assured Taehyung that he should still be friends with Jungkook, though the petty part of your brain wanted nothing more than to have Taehyung cut off all ties with your ex and tell him to go shove it.

If you weren’t in the picture, they still would’ve bonded the way they did and developed that kind of brotherly connection. Just because you and Taehyung were closer doesn’t mean that he and Jungkook weren’t close. They were close throughout college, and it had nothing to do with the fact that one was your best friend and the other was your boyfriend. That’s why you weren’t particularly fond of making Taehyung lose someone he considered family, even if that man did stomp on your heart to hell and back.

You just had to make it crystal clear to Taehyung – and Jimin by extension – to not put you and Jungkook in the same place ever again.

And that’s exactly what Taehyung and Jimin have been doing these past few years. Birthday parties, nights out and celebratory dinners multiplied by two to keep you and Jungkook separate. It was like you were strangers who never knew each other existed. Different worlds that can’t ever collide. You all got used to this certain arrangement. It works out for everybody: You don’t have to see your ex, and Jimin and Taehyung get to keep their friend. If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it.

The barrier that you forced between you and him worked, but sadly it did put a strain on Taehyung and Jimin’s wallets. You were always a group of five though, until Hoseok moved abroad the very week before college ended. He didn’t even attend graduation. That summer, you weren’t the only one left heartbroken. Hoseok’s parents had turned a 180 and decided to make him pursue another degree to take over the family business instead of continuing to let him follow his dreams, which have always been music and dancing. When he broke the news, you all gathered around and cried together. You were beyond upset for him; you knew how Hoseok shined the brightest when he got to do what he loved.

Since then, he only comes back a couple of times a year. Every time, you would all try and make the most of it, wanting to relive those college days that you cherished so much. But during each of these visits, there is always something bittersweet that you think you all could feel. Because Hoseok wasn’t a constant in your lives anymore. The five of you were thick as thieves. You were there for each other through every high and every low. It’s somber to think that you will never have that ever again.

Hoseok wasn’t there to personally witness what the breakup did to you, but you were certain that he knew about it. Taehyung and Jimin must have told him at some point. You don’t think you’ve ever had a proper conversation with Hoseok about how your relationship with Jungkook ended. He only visits as seldom as it is. You don’t want to spend every reunion wallowing in misery, or make everything about your baggage when everyone has their own shit to deal with.

“Shit, Y/N, why are you being sappy?” Jimin mutters as he blinks at you, eyes glassy, all shy and adorable when he sniffles. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

It isn’t until then that you notice Jungkook standing next to Jimin, having watched the whole interaction with an identical champagne glass in his hand and a small smile on his face.

“Hi,” he says, even though it has only been a couple of hours since you last saw each other.

You send him a nod, merely to acknowledge his presence. Taehyung pulls Jimin into a hug of his own too, swaying him from side to side like they’re in their own little world.

You can feel Jungkook’s gaze on the side of your face but you keep your eyes trained on Taehyung’s back, watching your two friends be dramatic and goofy and happy.

When you deem that they’ve had their fun, you tug Taehyung back by his jacket. “Okay, that’s enough, lovebirds. You’re acting like you don’t see each other every other day. Stop being so clingy.”

“No!” Jimin swats your hand away but lets his friend go regardless. He’s smiling so big that his eyes have turned into narrow slits, pearly whites on full display, cute pinchable cheeks turned rosy from the champagne and euphoria. “Do I look weird? I feel like I look weird. I can’t stop smiling.”

“You don’t look weird,” you say, booping his nose affectionately then ruffling his head of blond hair. “You look perfect.”

Jimin blushes, which makes him even cuter. Then his eyes light up when he spots someone behind you. His hand shoots up to wave the person over to your table as he calls, “Hobi hyung!”

Hobi– what?

You and Taehyung turn around, four eyes flying wide open.

Slapping a hand to Taehyung’s chest, you gasp. “Holy shit. Did you know about this?!”

“No! I’m as shocked as you are!”

Hoseok skips the pleasantries. He just grins brightly and yanks you and Taehyung into him, crushing you two in his hug as he shakes you enthusiastically. When he lets go, he kisses both of your cheeks. He diverts his attention to Jungkook then, yelling out Jaykay! so loudly that people turn to look. He does the same thing to Jungkook as he did to you, enveloping the younger man in a very Hoseok-esque embrace.

“Hobi!” you squeal, completely overjoyed. Taehyung looks about the same as you, the two of you practically bouncing like golden retrievers. “Why didn’t you tell us you were going to be here?”

Hoseok shares a look with Jimin, and they both break out into a fit of giggles. “Obviously I wasn’t going to miss tonight,” he says. “But I’m disappointed in you, Y/N. You should’ve surprised Jimin with me, not the other way around.”

“Wha– Jung Hoseok, you blocked me last month after I sent you that jumpscare video.”

“Oh, right,” he laughs. “In any case, it’s always so good to see all of you simp over me every time I come home.”

“Hobi, I implore you to stop saying ‘simp’ as a grown ass man.”

“Y/N, this grown ass man implores you to stop calling him Hobi.”

It isn’t until now that you start to relax more. Everything feels so much simpler now that Hoseok is here and all of you are together. Catching up with him, you’re always enraptured to hear the stories he has to tell. Even if it’s brief and the bubble has to eventually burst, he never fails to give you that odd sense of peace you’ve been craving since you got older. Hoseok has a way of making time stretch on forever, in a good way.

At one point, he stops talking, noticing something out of place. “Oh? You two…” he gestures between you and Jungkook, and the conversation seems to end here because even Hoseok doesn’t know what to say or what to ask. Clearly Taehyung and Jimin haven’t been doing a very good job at keeping him up to date. Then things just start getting kinda awkward again.

You feel partly to blame. After all, you’re one of the two people making this weird for everybody.

For most of the night, you manage to avoid talking to Jungkook. It’s not that difficult really, with Taehyung practically gluing himself to your side (per your request) and catching up with Hoseok, Jungkook could hardly get a word in with you.

You pat Taehyung on the cheek. “Thanks for sticking with me,” you tell him.

“Of course,” he says. “And y’know, it’s not like you really gave me a choice.”

Your hand that’s still on his cheek goes to pinch it. His cheek is so squishy, it feels like you’re kneading dough. You can’t help but squeeze your fingers a little harder.

“Ah! Okay!” he squeaks out. “Sorry!”

You giggle at his frowny face before giving him another affectionate pat. “Seriously, can you imagine Jungkook seeing me drunk without you to hold me back? That’s one of my worst nightmares.”

Taehyung bites his tongue, remembering the night he had put Jimin on pick up duty and Jungkook had tagged along. Taehyung even recalls the morning after, when he was walking on eggshells around you, trying to figure out if your memory would serve you. When he was positive that it didn’t, he had to thank the heavens for letting him live to see another day.

Because if you ever find out, oh you would kill him. You would knock him to the ground and strangle him with your bare hands. He’s absolutely certain that you would. Knowingly letting your friend’s ex see her absolutely shitfaced and crying over said ex? Now that is heinous.

“Hold this,” Taehyung says now that it’s just the two of you, handing you his glass of whiskey. Hoseok got pulled somewhere so Jimin could introduce him to some of his staff, and Jungkook is… well, you have no idea where he is. “I have to pee.”

“What, now?”

“No, two hours from now. I’m just announcing it in advance,” Taehyung deadpans. “Yes, now!”

“I literally just thanked you.” You glare up at him. He starts to get sassy a couple of drinks in. “I’ll come with you.”

“What, to the men’s bathroom? Don’t be ridiculous, Y/N. I don’t even see Jungkook anywhere. He’s probably mingling. C’mon, I’ll be gone two minutes, tops, okay?”

“No, no, no, wait–!” Aaand he’s already jogging away. Great.

You sigh, take a sip of Taehyung’s drink and immediately grimace. You really don’t like whiskey. You find an empty table nearby to put the glass down and loiter. To anyone, you must look like you’ve got a bad case of social anxiety, standing alone and fidgeting like that, but no, what you have is Jungkook anxiety.

As you keep your head down and pull out your phone to make it seem like you actually have something to do instead of waiting for your friend to return from the bathroom, your head bobs gently to the faint music coming from the speakers. Peace lasts for about thirty seconds. You turn to look when someone nudges your shoulder.

“You look beautiful,” Jungkook tells you with a smile that almost blinds you. You have to admit, he’s so handsome tonight, and it’s part of why you’ve been avoiding looking at him since you got here.

You glance down at your outfit. You tend to dress more casually at the studio, but today, you wanted to up the ante a little bit for Jimin. It’s nothing fancy, just a smidge more put-together than what you usually go for. Knee-high boots, a black skirt, a cozy sweater and your favorite winter coat. Actually put on some blush for once to top it all off.

“I’ve looked like this since the morning.”

“I know,” he says. “I’ve been wanting to say it all day.”

It’s the compliment, the sparkling eyes and the soft, warm smile making your face heat up. You bite the inside of your cheek, urging yourself to snap out of it.

The strategy is to deflect. You practically shove your phone in his face with the Gmail app open, making him squint in reflex at the sudden brightness assaulting his eyes. “So Namjoon just sent me this–”

Jungkook takes a step back and brushes your hand away. “Honestly, if it’s fine with you, can we not talk about work?” he chuckles as he says this. “I just got out of the studio. I’d rather not think about it for a minute.”

So it would appear that deflecting is not a viable option.

“Oh, okay.” You nod slowly, putting your phone back into your bag. You are so awkward, and too sober for this, and desperately need your Taehyung-shaped buffer. “Uhm, so… what now?”

Jungkook gives you a quiet chuckle, trying to go over this as nonchalantly as possible. “Friends can talk about things. I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Your brows furrow slightly as you recall what you told Seokjin before. Friends… Jungkook still doesn’t seem to know the definition of the word. Does he think you meant it? That you were actually friends now? He can’t be that fucking dense, can he? When he came knocking at your door not that long ago, has he forgotten that look in your eyes and the door closing in his face when he uttered this exact word to you?

From the start, Jungkook was never your friend.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to do this at the studio and I didn’t want to do it here, today, Jimin’s big day, but I have to ask. What are you doing?”

He blinks, seemingly confused, and it prompts you to continue.

“What is this? What am I supposed to talk about with you if it’s not work?” you say slowly. “You know I was just saying that to not make things awkward for Seokjin and Namjoon, right?” Too slowly, like he’s stupid and you need to enunciate every syllable. You can’t help it.

Jungkook puts his champagne glass on the table. He looks a little lost, and it’s clear that this is a turn that neither of you expected. See, you think, wishing Taehyung would come back right this second to witness this, This is why I need to drink.

“What happened? I thought we were doing fine.”

He took the words right out your mouth, only a few years too late.

Is he serious? He really is that dense?

Your mouth falls open, trying to gauge if you are actually on the same topic, or if you’re even speaking the same language. It can’t be more painfully obvious that you two have been living completely different realities.

“You happened,” you snap, amazed by the fact that you even have to tell him.

You stop short of saying: Fuck you. You unraveled my life like a hurricane and now I have to be the one to remind you of it? You wanted nothing to do with me the last five years and now you’re trying to get me all to yourself?

You can’t help the next question that slips out either. Blame the small part of you that’s been dying to know this since you found out the news from Namjoon. “Why would you think that we’d be fine? Who do you think I am to you?”

Jungkook’s lips part but he doesn’t say anything for nearly half a minute. His face falls just a tad, and you don’t really know what to make of that. His eyes glimmer under the lights. With what, you can’t know for certain. It must be shame. Is it possible that there’s guilt swimming in those irises? Underneath the surface of those brown eyes, is it too much to ask that there be some regret too?

You think the question nicked him somewhere you can’t see. Call it wishful thinking, but you hope it’s the same place that he has always cut into you.

Bleed. Bleed like you made me bleed.

Finally, he says, “You’re…”

Then, Jimin practically shouts into a mic that he has procured somewhere. Wonderful timing, blondie.

“Can everyone gather at the front for a group photo please? I’m going to hang it on the wall!”

You don’t know if you should be frustrated or grateful for the interruption. That void that you used to fill with anger and resentment is now bubbling with something else. No matter how hard you try to swallow it all down, you know it won’t stop until you overflow, until you’re swallowed whole by that grief again. You feel foolish. Cheap. Hard to love, hard to keep. He meant the world to you but to him, turns out you were merely replaceable.

You turn away from Jungkook in favor of another chaos. In the midst of the grand Park family – Jimin’s many cousins, bubbly nieces and nephews who all want to be in the center of the photo – you get pushed to the side. There’s too many people here. It’ll probably end up looking like one of those company pictures where at least half the people have their eyes closed and the other half look like they can’t wait to get out of there. You don’t know where Taehyung is, if he’s even back from the bathroom. You’re so tired. So drained, all of a sudden. You miss your bed and your comfy pillows and your warm fluffy blanket. You want to sink into it and melt like a piece of marshmallow on hot chocolate.

You stand there awkwardly on the very edge, aware of Jungkook loitering a couple of steps from you as you both wait for people to make up their mind on where to stand. You can tell that the photographer is getting frustrated when he finally steps in to guide the older people when they start looking like buffering Sims. You don’t even know where Jimin and Hoseok are either.

“Okay, is everyone ready?” the photographer asks, his voice unamused as he raises the camera to look through the viewfinder. He doesn’t even wait for any confirmation and just starts counting down. No doubt about it, Jimin is definitely underpaying this guy. “Three, two, o– Wait. You on the left. No, my left. Yes, you, guy in the black coat. Could you stand closer? You’re almost out of the frame.”

Jungkook – “guy in the black coat” – shuffles closer until you can smell his familiar cologne over the overwhelming floral scent radiating off the woman next to you. He moves until the photographer gives his nod of approval, until your arms touch. It makes you nervous, even through the layers of clothes. What was he going to say? What did you want him to say? What could be a good enough answer?

You all smile as the camera clicks a few times. You might’ve had your eyes closed in one of the shots. Seriously, you have to make Jimin show you the picture before he commemorates his wall with it. If you have to be immortalized on a wall next to your ex, then at least you should look good.

Everybody disperses after that; some going to bid Jimin goodbye as they end the night and go home, some returning to their previously established groups to chat some more. You feel like now is probably a good time to leave.

You move to go find Taehyung, but someone stops you. A warm hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you back. You glance at where Jungkook’s skin touches yours, then your eyes flicker up to meet his. They don’t let you move, and neither do the words he says next. His face is softer than you’ve witnessed in a while. No teasing, no bravado. Just honesty.

“You’re someone important to me.”

Oof. Two strikes in one night.

It makes you angry for some reason – his honesty. Because it really looks like he believes it to be true.

This is the last thing you wanted, fighting when you’re supposed to be celebrating Jimin, but you suppose it’s happening. “I can’t tell if you mean it or if you’re just playing with me,” you say.

Jungkook pales a shade as you stare at him with hard eyes.

“I do mean it,” he says. He looks down at your hand, his fingers on your wrist twitching.

“If that were really the case, we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” you tell him. “If I were really important to you, you wouldn’t have screwed me over like that. If I were really important, you wouldn’t be here right now, acting like I’m something you can throw away whenever you feel like it, and pick back up like nothing ever happened. You know, I was starting to be okay. I was starting to get used to it and you just had to come waltzing back into my life. Do you know how important this is to me? That this is my dream I get to live but I’m just trying to survive it and never have to see you again? Why can’t you just– Fuck.”

You choke on the last of it, knowing that if you keep going, you will cry, and your pride won’t let you break down in front of your friends and strangers alike. In front of Jungkook. You count each breath in your head to steady yourself until your lungs feel less like they’re going to burn out of oxygen.

You’re surprised that you were able to say that without much liquid courage. You’re glad that you’re standing near the corner of the room where nobody is really paying attention to you. Jungkook lets go of your wrist, visibly gulping as he does so. It feels like there’s an entire orchestra in here – people talking, music playing, all echoing around the room – and you suppose you’re thankful for that. He can’t hear your heart screaming over the noises. If you weren’t sure if he was feeling ashamed before, then you’re sure now. He should be ashamed, for everything he put you through. If you could, you would give it back to him ten times worse.

Quietly, Jungkook says, “I’m sorry,” and then nothing else.

You swear you can hear a clock go tick, tock, tick, tock… The passage of time is so palpable, like something you can hold in your hands. Minutes upon minutes, hours upon hours, days upon days - they sit in the palm of your hands but amount to nothing at all. They slip through your fingers again. Nothing is guaranteed, you realize belatedly then, certainly not closure. You’re never going to get it right. He’s always going to blindside you.

And no matter how hard you try to keep him at bay, he’s always going to get under your skin.

Stop slipping. Stop slipping. Stop slipping.

“Huh,” you mutter to yourself, bitterly, confusedly, amusedly, “I thought that would feel better.”

“What?” he asks.

“Hearing you say sorry. Did you know that you never said sorry to me?”

“It’s not– I–” he stutters. How could he possibly object to that? It’s the truth. It’s the absolute and pathetic truth. He leaves the sentence unfinished like the history of the two of you, half written until he decided that he was done with it. Time would not tell the rest, and all you were left with were blank pages that no one could fill. “I’m sorry,” he ends up saying again, as if repeating it would make the words have more gravity. If that is his intention then you suppose he succeeds, because it makes your heart heavier.

“I’m trying to do right by you.”

You consider it for a second. When you turn away, you find Taehyung across the room, already looking at you, though you don’t think he can hear anything from where he’s standing. Your friend has ‘worried’ written all over his face.

“Are you trying to do right by me? Or by you?” you ask, and then something starts to sink in. You spent so much time thinking about it, wondering where everything went wrong. Going around in circles, dwelling, trying to put together puzzle pieces that just won’t fit. That’s time that you can never get back. You’ve always known that at some point, you would have to let it all go. Maybe now is that point. Let go of things that you have no control over. You’re only burning yourself by holding on. Isn’t it better to let it scar than to keep picking at the wound and making it bleed? “Actually, it doesn’t even matter anymore. What’s the point? I’ve come to terms with it. You can do whatever you want to feel better. Just do it by yourself. Don’t use me.”

Jungkook frowns. “I’m not using you.”

You manage to suppress the urge to scoff. “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing? Thinking you could come back and sweet talk me and then you’d be absolved just like that?”

“I know you must hate me,” he says. “...for everything.”

“I do.” No fucking shit. “If you know that, then why are you doing this?” Don’t push it, your brain says, but the way he’s staring at the ground, unable to meet your eyes, looking like a puppy you just kicked makes you annoyed. “Did you know that the first time I ever saw you, I hated you?” you ask, making his eyes flit up to yours. “I wish we could’ve left it at that.”

When his face flashes with hurt, you almost feel bad even though you wished for this. His jaw clenches as you walk away, leaving him there by himself.

“Wanna head home?” Taehyung asks before you have to even say anything. He regards you with soft and apologetic eyes, with a gentle hand on your arm and concern still etched onto his features. Taehyung is a warm summer’s breeze compared to the desolate winter that Jungkook has made of you. You answer with a simple nod.

“Wait for me by the car. I’ll say bye to Jimin and be right out,” Taehyung tells you.

“Okay.”

He puts an arm around your shoulder and squeezes you once. “Sorry about that by the way… There was a line for the bathroom.”

Monday comes too soon.

You have to face Jungkook again too soon.

“Unclench your butt.”

You snap your head to the sound of Yoongi’s voice right next to your ear. His tone is teasing, and his face even more so. The man’s got way too much energy for 9 in the morning.

“Excuse me?” you grumble. You’ve been standing outside the studio for almost ten minutes now, letting your nerves eat away at you because you know Jungkook is already here. You saw his car earlier.

“Your butt,” your friend says. “It’s too clenched.”

“You were looking at my butt?” You give him a disapproving look.

“Only because you look like you’re trying to hold in a shit.” Yoongi shrugs indifferently. “Why are you standing out here anyway?”

Your fingers twitch around the strap of your bag as you try to give him a nonchalant answer. “Trying to manifest the death of capitalism before you interrupted me.”

“Mhmm,” he says, eyeing you suspiciously like a distrusting cat. “Spill. What happened?”

“What happened with what?”

“I know you went to your friend’s thing on Friday. And I know Jungkook was there too. So what happened?”

You debate whether or not you should tell Yoongi. It’s not like you have anything to hide; he already knows about your history anyway. But he’s been the most insufferable toward Jungkook in the short time that he’s been here, and giving him the goss on your little conversation the other day would only give him another reason to be an even bigger menace. You bite your tongue, and put on the most neutral expression you can manage.

“Nothing happened,” you say. “You’re being nosy, Min.”

You push open the door to be greeted by an incredibly cheerful Seokjin and Namjoon. Why is everyone so bubbly on a Monday morning? Have they always been like this, or do you just feel like everything coming out of their mouths is sunshine and rainbows compared to the black cloud hovering over your head?

Seems like you aren’t the only one dreading the new week though. Jungkook visibly stiffens as you enter, completely devoid of that easy-going smile he always greets you with. “Hey,” he tells you.

“Morning,” you reply. To him, to Seokjin, to Namjoon. You take a seat at your usual corner, setting down your bag and pulling out your pen and notebook.

Seokjin launches into conversation with Yoongi about a basketball game. Apparently there was one last night, but you don’t really care about that. Namjoon doesn’t seem to have much interest in the topic either, choosing to weigh in with an occasional hum here and there to be polite.

Like you, Jungkook is quiet. He knows enough about basketball to hold a conversation but you know it’s never been his favorite thing in the world. Normally though, even if he isn’t particularly knowledgeable in the matter at hand, he would still act like he’s genuinely absorbed in whatever everyone was talking about, just to be friendly and sociable. He was always very good at networking; that’s why people loved him in college. From what you’ve seen, that trait carried over into adulthood as well.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Jungkook fidget in his chair. He turns his head every once in a while to glance at you, which doesn’t go unnoticed by you, nor Yoongi for that matter. Yoongi nudges your knee with his own, prompting a curious look from you. He leans closer to your ear and lowers his voice so that nobody can hear.

“Jungkook looks like his butt is pretty clenched too.”

Your grip on the pen loosens as you swirl it around absentmindedly, humming to yourself the melody off the page as if it’ll summon words to the sheet, where it’s mostly blank beneath all the squiggly music notes. The men – with the exception of Namjoon; he’s out for the day – gather around, discussing the first demo track. You drown most of it out. Your job here isn’t to wring out the kinks with the technical aspects anyway.

“We could record something for the rough demo today,” Yoongi thinks out loud.

“Today?” Jungkook asks as he arches an eyebrow. “For what track? We don’t have a single thing completely finished yet?”

“Buddy, are you a glass half empty kind of guy?” Yoongi jokes. “From what I see, we have at least four tracks halfway done. That’s enough for us to record.”

The younger man leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest, highly annoyed but he still tries to keep a straight face and an even voice. It’s his first big project, and this fucking person is coming in and stepping all over his toes. To Jungkook, Yoongi is just some guy. He has never understood what the hype was about with Agust D, why he has always been a massive media darling and why everybody seems so enamored with him. Seokjin talks about him like Jungkook should feel so privileged to have the opportunity to work with such talent. Namjoon, his own freaking mentor, practically idolizes Yoongi. He almost passed out from glee when he heard that Yoongi would be coming on board. Even when the label was trying to get the rapper to sign with them, Jungkook never got what all the fuss was about.

It’s almost frustrating to watch people around him fawn over Yoongi like he hangs the moon in the sky. If you feel the same way about him, you don’t let it show, but Jungkook can tell that you admire and respect the guy a lot. He just can’t figure out what the deal is between you and Yoongi. Something is there. If not from your side then definitely from Yoongi’s. He seems too protective of you. Taehyung is the same way, and so are Jimin and Hoseok, but with them, Jungkook understands. They’ve been friends with you since forever, and he can’t imagine that your friendship with Yoongi can ever be that special.

“I disagree,” Jungkook asserts. “It’s a waste of time to make a demo now when we’d have to do it all over again later. At this point, all we’ll get is scraps. It wouldn’t help us get anywhere.”

Yoongi glances at Seokjin, who’s been watching but not really contributing, and they both share a look. It makes Jungkook want to get more fired up because he is supposed to be in charge here, but Yoongi is clearly more in tune with what Seokjin wants and how he operates. Jungkook will be the first one to say that he is not the best team player, but at least he tries. It usually works out just fine in the end, once he can get his ego out of the way to actually get something done, but this time it’s proving to be quite the challenge when it seems like Yoongi is constantly trying to hinder him.

“Jungkook, look.” Even the way he says his name is irritating. “I’ve been doing this way longer than you have, buddy. I was a producer before I became a rapper. I think I know what I’m doing here.”

“And I see why you would think this is a good idea, but I’m saying it’s a waste of time and effort to do this when we’ll just have to redo the whole process later. You want a summer release. We don’t have the time, and do we even have enough budget–”

Yoongi tilts his head to one side with an amused smile. “Are you sure this is the right business for you? Should you be in risk assessment instead? Why are you here worrying about budgets and timing? That’s the whole point of doing preliminary demos, to help you see what direction to take and guide the creative process–”

“Okay, okay. Retract the claws, fellas,” Seokjin jumps in this time. “I’m with Yoongi on this one, JK. Take it easy, man.”

Jungkook tongues his cheek and nods begrudgingly. He makes it seem like he’s taking it in stride, tucking his chagrin behind a mask of indifference. Yoongi shrugs with a triumphant grin, clasping his hands together as he gestures both Seokjin and Jungkook to the soundbooth.

“What?” The younger man stares at the other two. “You want me in there too?”

“Yeah, just to test some stuff out. You have a nice voice,” Yoongi admits, and even though he’s being genuine for once, Jungkook still feels like it’s condescending somehow. Anything that comes out of Yoongi’s mouth is patronizing to him. “Couldn’t hurt to see how it would sound like with Jin hyung. Maybe we could even use it later.”

You’ve been trying to keep your head down and shut out all the sounds. Sounds of Jungkook fucking singing. Why did Min Yoongi have to force him into the box?

Back then, you used to tell him that he’s good enough to be a singer. He’d sing you to sleep whenever you were plagued with insomnia, or when you were sick, or just whenever you wanted him to. His voice always soothed you, made you feel warm all over.

As if ignoring him today wasn’t difficult enough already.

“You’re bleeding.” You hear someone say a while later.

Your head snaps up to see what’s going on. Somebody’s bleeding? How did that happen? But Seokjin and Jungkook are still in the booth, both looking at the paper that Jungkook is holding, talking to each other about something you can’t catch. You scan the room, brows furrowed, until you see Yoongi looking at you.

“Huh?” He points toward your hands. “You’re bleeding.”

Your eyes follow his line of sight until they land on what he’s staring at. You put the pen on the table and flex your hands. He’s exaggerating, they aren’t bleeding. Well, technically, they are if you count the reddened patches of cracked skin between your knuckles as bleeding. Your hands are just dry because the weather is cold. It happens. Dramatic Yoongi.

You wave him off with a smile. “Eh. It’s fine. I’ll put some lotion on it when I get home,” you lie. You don’t even have any hand cream. You’ve only tried using a dollop of body lotion on your hands once, but you didn’t like how your skin just felt so sticky afterward that it would leave visible prints when you touched your phone screen.

Yoongi shakes his head lightly. “No, you won’t. I’ve noticed that for a few days now.”

You level him with a look. “What are you, the hand police? It’s just dry hands. I’m not gonna die from that.”

“No, you‘re not,” Yoongi agrees, but regardless, he stands up and walks to retrieve his bag from where he left it on the couch. You watch with curiosity as he rummages through it until he pulls out a white tube of something. He crosses the distance to get to where you’re sitting and settles into the chair next to you. He reaches for your hands then, and says, “But do it for my sake. I don’t wanna look at your ugly witch's hands all day.”

“Yoongi!” you hiss, instantly scowling and failing to push him off when his stronger hand grasps one of your own. He pops open the tube and squeezes some of the cream onto your skin. “What are you doing?!”

“Hold still,” he says because you keep squirming. When the sheer weight of your glare on his face makes him look up at you, Yoongi actually glares back at you. Gasp. “Hold still,” he repeats firmly.

You huff out a breath in annoyance. You glance at the booth to see if the guys are looking, but Seokjin still appears to be focused on the music sheet. You see and faintly hear him humming, his fingers tapping the air like he’s counting the beats. Jungkook, though… Jungkook is looking.

In the few seconds that your eyes meet his, you can tell that he’s trying to understand whatever the hell he’s watching here. You feel your cheeks heat up and you don’t really know if it’s because of Jungkook’s hard gaze on you or the feeling of Yoongi’s hands on your hands. You quickly turn away, missing the way the man in the booth pokes his tongue into a cheek.

You try to kick Yoongi in the shin but he manages to block your foot with his knee. He tuts at you disapprovingly. You watch him with a petulant frown as he rubs the cream into the back of your hand, between your knuckles, over each of your fingers. It feels expensive, though you would expect nothing less from Min Yoongi. The cream soaks into your skin right away, unlike that body lotion of yours that was obviously not made for this purpose.

“You’re so overreacting over nothing,” you tell him.

“No, I’m not. Y/N, your hands were starting to look like coconut shavings,” he says casually, still focused on being your self-appointed hand masseuse it seems. “Is he looking?”

“What?”

“Jungkook,” Yoongi clarifies, his eyes darting up to your face for a brief second. “Is he looking?”

You exhale through your nose. “He was,” you say flatly, quite displeased with his shenanigans. “Yoongi, I told you not to do shit like this.”

His movements gradually slow. You don’t think there’s any more product on the surface left to absorb anyway. “I’m not doing this because of Jungkook, I promise,” he says, not pulling away just yet, letting his skin linger on yours. His head is still tilted downward, his gaze seemingly glued to where his thumb is swiping over your fingers. Jungkook used to do this too - absentmindedly playing with your fingers. It’s cute, and you hate to admit that the little things like this make you feel warm. You clench your jaw just once. Maybe it’s a guy’s thing.

For a moment, you actually think that he’s being sincere. About what, you don’t know. Then Yoongi looks up at you, eyes crinkling as he grins. “But pissing him off is definitely a huge plus.”

“You’re insufferable,” you tell Yoongi, rolling your eyes and shoving him away with your now moisturized hands. You gotta be honest, they do look and feel a lot better. Maybe you should pick some lotion up after work. You won’t tell Yoongi this, but you tried the exact one he just used on you a while back, in a store, and it smelled so good that you thought about it for two whole weeks. But when you saw the price tag, you immediately recoiled. It was one of the brands wherein the products were more expensive than the city’s median rent, so no wonder Yoongi would be the one to have something of theirs. Different tax brackets, you think.

Yoongi stumbles a little from your push. When he stands up, he takes one of your hands again, opening your palm and placing the tube there. “Use it every night before bed,” he instructs, like he’s a pharmacist and you’re just someone waiting to pick up their prescription.

“What?” You look at him, so serious and kind of offended. “Yoongi, I am not using your old shit!”

He sighs, wrapping your fingers around the tube so you would hold it there. “I don’t even use hand cream. I got that for you yesterday.”

Jungkook is so done. It’s been such a long week and it’s only the first day of the fucking week. After feeling so utterly helpless around you, losing to Yoongi and then watching Yoongi have his little moment with you right in front of him, Jungkook fully intends to drive straight to Jimin’s and raid his liquor cabinet until he gets a grip and figures out what to do on the you front. Especially since you called him out like that.

Jungkook hasn’t been able to focus in over an hour, after you left to go home, but he’s still cognizant enough to save the bits that he and Seokjin recorded earlier. He has witnessed how pissed Namjoon can get when they lose files due to carelessness, and no matter how level-headed his mentor usually is even in the most stressful of situations, Jungkook absolutely does not want to be on the receiving end of Namjoon’s scoldings when the man lets anger get the best of him.

Jungkook glances at the corner that you usually occupy with your nose buried in your notebook. It’s so empty in here; everyone else has already left. He sits there, heavy with so many realizations all at once. It feels like college all over, only this time, he isn’t just a stupid kid with a crush and a weird way of showing affection. He’s hurting you again. No matter what he does, he just keeps making it worse for you and him.

You were right, and it must’ve taken a lot for you to say what you said to him. It was crazy, and foolish, and most of all cruel for Jungkook to think he could patch things up with a smile. He knew how devastated he left you. Didn’t need to see the mess he made to know how much it fucked you up. Didn’t need anyone to tell him – even though his friends all tried – to know how unbelievably heartless it was to abandon the person who loved him the most. But back then, he believed he was doing the right thing. That’s how he coped with it, by trusting that it was the best decision he could make at the time.

He still remembers that day like it was merely 24 hours ago.

The obliviousness in your voice when he told you he was coming over to talk and you said you had exciting news to share. The way he had cried in the car on his way over, pulled himself together just long enough to say “I’m breaking up with you,” and watched your eager smile drop. He could practically feel your heart in his open palm, crumbling to nothing as he gave it back to you. Like he was saying “I don’t want it anymore.” He remembers crying again on the drive after.

Everything is different now, but if he could go back, even with the knowledge of the fallout, he would still choose to do the same.

There was no point in telling Jimin, Taehyung, Hoseok, or just about anyone, why he felt like he had to do it. They would’ve just called him stupid and told you. He’s sure that if you knew then, you would try to reason with him, maybe you would even beg. And if you had begged him to stay, then there was no way he could follow through.

Jungkook locks up the studio and leaves. When he passes Jihyo at the reception, he hears her call his name but he pretends that he doesn’t. He’s too tired for this tonight. He just wants a drink, and he just wants to see you even though you were with him all day.

Skipping the parking lot for now, Jungkook walks to the nearby store, wanting to bring something over to Jimin’s or else the older man will just grumble at him for coming empty handed. When he rounds the corner, he sees you walking by yourself in the small park across the street. Your hands are shoved in your pockets while you stare up at the starless night. Jungkook thinks you should belong in a painting.

He stands there curiously. If you looked straight ahead, you would see him. But you seem preoccupied with the clouds floating through the dark blue, too lost in thought to notice much. Your hand comes up when something lands on your face. A second later, Jungkook feels something wet and cold against his cheek too. He remembers.

He pulls out his phone, fiddles with it for a minute as he contemplates, and ultimately decides to tap on your name in his contacts. Pressing the device against his ear, he listens to it ring, and watches you fish your own phone from your bag. He takes note of the furrow between your brows, the fleeting clench of your teeth. He almost thinks you wouldn’t pick up, but you do.

“Hello?” you answer uncertainly.

“Hey,” Jungkook says, “where are you?”

“Uhm…” There’s a pause. He wonders if you would lie. “Just out getting some air. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just… in front of you right now.”

Confusion overtakes your features. When your gaze crosses the street to land on him, you let out a small Oh, and give him a small awkward wave. He ends the call and rushes over, even though he doesn’t know what to say to you. He watches you wince, because you always hated whenever he jaywalked. It makes him smile a little.

“Hi,” you say as Jungkook stands in front of you.

“Hi,” he returns. “Mind if I join you?”

You stare up at him for a few seconds before deciding, “Yeah, sure.”

“What are you still doing here? You left like two hours ago,” he says. You walk together further into the park, where lonely lamp posts dimly light your path.

You shrug. “I went to get dinner and just… I don’t know. Felt like I could use some fresh air.”

“In this weather? It’s snowing.”

You both watch the breath that you huff out. “Well, it didn’t start snowing until you got here.”

The first snow, or just snow in general, is never as romantic as they make it seem in the movies. Sure it’s pretty, and when the ground is covered in a thick blanket of snow, it makes for a good Instagram story. But in reality? Snow is so fucking dirty, and when it starts melting, it is absolute hell for everybody. Your weather app didn’t say that it would snow today, but you should’ve known better than to trust that damn thing.

Jungkook hums, and silence falls over you like the snow, making everything so damp and gross. You hope it stops soon.

When some snowflakes land directly on your cheek, you wipe the moisture away with mild annoyance. “I hate snow,” you grumble, pulling your scarf tighter. If you had known that it would snow, you would’ve worn something with a hood and your sturdier boots.

Jungkook chuckles lightly as he watches you hiss when some snowflakes land on your head, startling your skin with its frost and slowly dampening your hair. “You don’t hate it,” he says. “You just hate it when you’re walking in the snow. I know you.”

The universe doesn’t give you time to dwell on that last comment. The ground beneath you turns slippery as you keep walking. You yelp loudly when your sneaker-clad feet skid on the thin ice sheet that the snow has created. You’re fully prepared for your ass to hit the pavement and consequently bruise in about half an hour, but Jungkook catches you with both hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him so you don’t hit the ground. Unlike you, his shoes have more traction.

Your heart hammers from the suddenness of the last thirty seconds. You can see each heavy breath that leaves your mouth and promptly dissipates into the cold air. You don’t realize that your hands are gripping his shoulders to help steady yourself, as if he doesn’t already have his arms wrapped securely around you, and you realize then that wow, this is the closest he’s been to you in years. It’s unbearable just how much you’ve missed being in his arms.

Just two people on an empty street, tangled up in each other, the falling snow your only audience – you look like you’ve landed yourself right in a romance drama, but in reality, this is anything but that.

You clear your throat and shuffle backward, out of his strong hold, careful not to trip and make a fool of yourself any more than you already have. “Thanks,” you say. “I should head home. It’s getting late.”

Jungkook nods. “Do you want to walk back to the company? I can give you a ride home.”

You consider this. The street is steadily being swallowed up by layers of white, and you don’t doubt that it will only be more difficult to navigate the road by yourself as the night gets darker and colder. Cabs are running more sparsely. It would take you forever to get home, especially in weather that makes you feel like a calf learning to walk for the first time.

“Yeah,” you agree, “sure, okay.”

The walk back to the building’s parking lot is mostly silent, and so is the ride to your apartment. You’ve never felt the first snow on your skin before, having always preferred to stay indoors on nights forecasted to experience snowfall. There’s something so wistful about witnessing the inauguration of winter yourself, how these delicate flowers of ice not only herald the ending of a season and the beginning of a new one, but also signal that another chapter of your life is about to close forever. It prompts you to mull over the last 12 months, to see if you’ve accomplished anything you set out to achieve or if you’ve wasted an entire year of your life. To share a moment like this with Jungkook makes you wonder if the universe is trying to send you a sign.

When the car stops at a red light a few blocks away from your place, you take the time to watch the snowflakes twirling outside the window. They wander in front of you, free yet aimless, like they’re asking if they could come in and seek refuge from the freezing cold. Not knowing warmth would be the thing that kills them. Adrift with the gentle wind until they land on the glass, only to die a mere second later. You break the silence.

“It’s kinda nice now,” you say, eyeing the marshmallow-looking ice that’s starting to pile up all around while you’re sheltered by the warmth of his car.

“See?” Jungkook chuckles. “Told you you only hate snow when you have to walk in it.”

“Hmm.” It’s true. You don’t want to admit it, but he did know you. Knew what drove you and what made you tick. Knew how your brain worked and how your heart moved. Knew that you loved him long before you could say it out loud.

Even when you lied that he doesn’t know you anymore, deep down you’re very well aware that he still does.

“Can I ask you this one thing, though?” you say calmly, but something must alert him that you aren’t looking to talk about the weather or some other meaningless shit. Jungkook doesn’t give you a verbal answer, nor any other indication that you can go ahead and voice your question. He just looks at you before the light turns green, like he doesn’t really want you to ask anything but he has no other choice but to let you. Like he’s scared of what you might demand from him.

It’s okay. You weren’t asking for permission anyway.

“Did I…” love you enough? Was there a single moment where you thought I didn’t love you? “Back then,” you swallow, keeping your eyes on the snowy streets that turn into ivory blurs as the car starts moving again, “did I ever make you feel like you weren’t enough?”

Your ears don’t pick up on much sound in the infinite pocket of seconds that follows. Not the low hum of the car’s radiator, nor the wind that becomes harsher right outside the window. Just his breathing and the beat of your own heart, drowning in the anticipation of his answer.

What if he says yes? Would it mean that after all this time that you spent blaming him, it’s been your fault all along? Were you the one that drove him away?

“No,” he says, interrupting that voice in your head. “Not once.”

You don’t doubt that he’s telling you the truth, but it doesn’t make you feel better. His tone tells you there’s more than he’s letting on, but it doesn’t matter now. Before Friday night, Taehyung had asked if you would ask Jungkook the question, and after some consideration, you had said no. Maybe if it were a couple of years ago, or even a few months back when you saw him again, you would have said yes. You used to think that if he ever came back for whatever reason, the first thing you would ask him is why. You would confront him, demand an answer, make him walk you through every single thought he had before he decided to ruin your life.

But no answer could change the fact that he did leave. There is no excuse good enough to justify how he left you so completely crushed. Sure, knowing would give you some of the closure that you were desperately seeking at one point, but what if it makes everything worse? What if he left because he was looking for something, something more than you could give? What if he found it, only to realize then that it wasn’t worth leaving you for after all?

Now, at least you know that your efforts were felt. You did the best you could, loved him the best way you knew how.

The man beside you clears his throat. You only notice now that Jungkook has already pulled up in front of your building. You haven’t spoken much before tonight, not about what happened at Jimin’s party. You weren’t sure how to bring it up, or if you should even bring it up. He seemed like he was trying to avoid the topic too. You had the weekend to relive every moment of that night over and over, and you obviously don’t want to talk about it, but you have to address it sooner or later if you want to move forward in peace.

“Hey, uhm, about the other night…” you start.

He stiffens a bit, and then sighs. “I know,” he says. “You were right. It’s not fair of me to–”

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off firmly. “Some of the things I said were harsh, and I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looks at you in surprise. His ears must deceive him, because, “Why are you apologizing?”

“I told you. I was harsh and it was uncalled for.”

“No, it wasn’t,” he says, frowning. He twists his body to face you. “I deserved it. You were right to call me out. Don’t backtrack.”

You stare at him with your lips pursed. “Why are you trying to argue right now?”

“Because I deserve your rage. Be mad at me.”

“I am mad at you,” you tell him but there’s no bite. You’re softening, loosening your grip while he’s the only one trying to hold on. “But I don’t want to be anymore.”

“Why not? You should. You have every right.”

“Jungkook, it’s been five years,” you chuckle without much humor, thinking back to what you’ve been doing in the last half a decade. Stalking your ex online, mourning your lost love every time he gets into a new relationship, holding out hope. And for what? What’s the point of it all? It’s not like you and him are going to get back together again. It’s a waste of time, time that you could spend trying to let him go and move on, whether he gives you that closure or not. “I’m tired and I just want to get on with my life. I don’t want to keep being bitter about it. What good will that do?”

His face is so serious all of a sudden, like he wants you to actually scream at him. Curse him out. Anything. “Then what do you want me to do?”

“Don’t feel like you have to make amends, or do anything right by me. Can we just, I don’t know, let the past remain in the past? I don’t want to make our friends feel like they have to act a certain way around me when it comes to you. It’s my problem, not theirs. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable anymore. So please, I’m not asking for anything else. I just want us all to… move forward.”

It’s then that he sees, oh, maybe you do belong in a painting. Sitting right in front of him but you’re so far away. He was once the artist but now, he’s merely a spectator. “Do you mean that?” he asks quietly.

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m really tired,” you say. “Why would you of all people want to be reminded of what happened?”

He swallows thickly. You can tell that he isn’t too fond of the idea, even if what you’re proposing gives him a way out. It lets him off the hook. But for some reason, he’s hesitant to take it, might be resisting it even. You can’t bring yourself to understand why, but eventually, he says, “Okay. If that’s what you really want.”

He doesn’t put up much of a fight, though it doesn’t exactly sound like an affirmation, but who even cares?

“Right, then,” you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt and gripping the strap of your bag. “Good night. See you tomorrow.”

He says it back, and lets you go with a strained smile.

Yoongi’s fingers tap on his knees to the beat of the music playing in the background. You were surprised when he called you on a Saturday, asking if you were free, telling you that he had something to say. You didn’t have any plans and Yoongi said he was treating you, and well, you don’t need to be convinced further.

Here you are, in a fancy restaurant, sharing a tiramisu with Min Yoongi. How nice. You thought he’d have better plans than just hanging out with little old you.

“Will you please just tell me now?” you say, looking at him with playful puppy dog eyes. You take another bite of the dessert, and practically have to stifle a moan when the sweetness melts in your mouth. You honestly think you have romantic feelings for this tiramisu. “I’ve been waiting for like two hours.”

Yoongi swirls the wine in his glass before he brings it to his lips and takes a sip, all the while looking at you, so happy with the treat that you’re supposed to share but he doesn’t even touch. When he sets his glass down, he calls your name, making you glance up.

“Do you still… y’know… Jungkook?”

You stare at him back, confused. “Do I still I know Jungkook?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Don’t make me spell it out. You’ll just beat me if I say it.”

“Oh, so it’s something annoying then? Then please, keep it to yourself.”

“Okay, then,” he says, smiling so obnoxiously because he knows you’re too curious.

Give it a minute.

“Oh my god, fine,” you give up, drawing out the sentence exasperatedly. “Do I still what Jungkook?”

Yoongi regards your face teasingly. “Do you still have feelings for him?”

Your entire body goes rigid. You don’t even try to hide the way your face falls upon hearing his question. What’s the point? He’ll just see right through you anyway.

“You took me out to dinner just to ask me that?”

He nods. “Yeah, among other things.”

“I mean…” You set down your spoon. No one has ever asked you that before, and it’s not a question that you yourself have considered. Jungkook still affects you, that much is clear. Thinking about your relationship still affects you. Does that mean that you have lingering feelings for him? You’ve yet to solve this, and truth be told, you aren’t sure if you would like the conclusion it leads you to. You give Yoongi a vague answer, because even you yourself don’t know what the truth is. But it doesn’t matter, now that you’ve made the active decision to let it all go. “I’m trying to move on.”

“Hmm.” He doesn’t seem very satisfied with your choice of words. “Do you still hate him then?”

This, you don’t really need to ruminate much on. “I think part of me will always hate him for what he did.” And part of you will always love him in spite of what he did.

Yoongi leans forward with both of his arms on the table, contemplating how he should word this. You deserve flowery words and romantic grand gestures, but alas Yoongi is blunt, and sometimes rough around the edges. He has great timing too. Just as you raise a glass of water to your mouth to soothe your dry throat, he says, “Let me be your revenge dick.”

It makes you choke, sending water down every wrong pipe as you cough harshly. It dribbles down your chin and a few drops plop! onto your light wash jeans. You’re glad it wasn’t wine. You would’ve killed him if he made you stain your newly bought trousers. While you try to hold onto dear life, he has the audacity to fucking laugh. When you kick his shin under the table, he hands you a few napkins. It takes you another minute to calm down.

“What the actual fuck?” you hiss. The little “incident” earns you a few weird looks from people sitting nearby. It’s so embarrassing, but Yoongi is acting like it’s the funniest shit he’s ever seen.

“Let me be your revenge d–”

“I heard you the first time, Jesus Christ. Please don’t say the word “dick” to me ever again. In fact, please stop talking altogether. Please don’t open your mouth ever again.”

He does not abide by your request, opening his stupid mouth again and thus cementing his place as your least favorite person in the entire world right this minute. You lost half your brain cells listening to that one singular sentence. Jesus fucking God. Who in their right mind would utter something like that? And to you, no less? Fuck. Men.

One of these days, you swear you will pop an aneurysm. It’s so ridiculous that it’s not even funny. But Yoongi just keeps talking like you’re asking him to elaborate.

“What I’m saying is… use me.”

“For what?” You’re genuinely so perplexed as to what the point of this conversation is, or where it’s even going. This man has a way of surprising you more and more each day.

“For revenge dicking purposes.”

You do your best to suppress a shudder. Where did that term even come from? “Oh my god, why do you keep saying that? We’re in public! What if someone hears you?!”

The man sitting across from you grins, showcasing his pearly whites, clearly very amused by your reactions. “You gotta show Jungkook what he’s missing. Make him regret it.”

“Min Yoongi,” you say slowly. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“No. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been this serious,” Yoongi answers. “Let me be your arm candy. I’m very good at that.” You’re very curious about who raised him and how he turned out to be this way. You can’t believe you have to tolerate him sometimes.

You give it another minute before you say, “I’ll have you know that Jungkook and I had a very productive talk. We’re in a much better place now, so your… whatever services won’t be necessary.”

He leans back, eases up, and stares at you thoughtfully. Like he doesn’t really believe you. Like the cogs of his mind are once again turning. “Okay, that’s even better. I don’t have to be the rebound. I can just be your main piece.”

Looking at him pleadingly, you bemoan, “Yoongi, why are you doing this to me?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“It absolutely is not obvious!”

“Seriously?”

You cross your arms, raising an annoyed eyebrow at the man. “Listen, I don’t know what kind of people you’re hanging out with, but my friends don’t go around offering to–”

“Because I like you.”

You could practically facepalm. As he stares at you, not even blinking anymore, you reach for the salt shaker on the table to pour some onto your hand. When he opens his mouth to ask what you’re doing, you flick the miniscule white crystals in his direction.

“Wha–”

“Yoongi, I can’t believe you wasted a whole evening for that lame ass joke.”

“Did you really just…” He throws his head back, laughing in both disbelief and amusement. “Wow. You tell a girl you like her and she throws salt at you. That’s definitely a first for me.”

“It’s not funny. Stop saying that.”

“Stop saying what?”

“Stop saying you like me!”

“But I do like you,” he says, voice softer now. “I’ve always liked you.”

You mentally groan, sucking your teeth before you reach for the salt again. He grabs your wrist before you could hold it up.

“Quit it and listen to me. I’m serious.”

When you look at Yoongi, he’s wearing an expression you don’t think you’ve often seen, or ever seen before. There’s no trace of that familiar teasing smile that’s almost always on his lips, nor the mischievous glint in his eyes that he usually sports. This side of Yoongi is new to you. This side of Yoongi makes you hold your breath for some reason.

For a second there, you believe what he’s saying.

“Come on. You’re taking this too far.”

“Why do you keep thinking this is a joke? You know I would never do that, Y/N.”

You pull your hand back to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Because you keep using me to mess with Jungkook even though I’ve asked you multiple times to–”

“Can you not mention his name?” Yoongi straightens in his chair. This is the closest he’s ever come to being annoyed with you. “I’m trying to tell you how I feel and you’re thinking about Jungkook.”

You liked it better when he was cocky about it.

“You can’t possibly be serious right now.”

Yoongi purses his lips, his eyes telling you that he’s irritated with you too, only he’s much better at containing his frustration. You both stare at each other for god knows how long because neither one of you understands what the other is trying to say.

When Yoongi speaks next, his voice is so calm, so low that it makes your spine run cold.

“You were always so oblivious.”

“Oh my god, pick up, pick up, pick up,” you mutter to yourself like a deranged person on the sidewalk, telepathically urging Taehyung to answer the phone before you’ve even called him. His phone filters through your speaker after the third ring. Kim Taehyung, always so quick to answer your calls.

“What’s u–”

“Oh my god, Kim Taehyung, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, you will not believe what just happened,” you rush out in one breath. “Where are you? Are you at home? I’ll come to you. Oh my god!”

“Jesus, did you mix coffee with Red Bull again? Slow down,” Taehyung says. “I’m at Jimin’s now.”

“Oh? Okay.” This is even better. Jimin’s apartment is much closer to the restaurant than Taehyung’s place is. “Is it boys’ night? Nevermind. Doesn’t matter. I’ll come over right now. Be there in 15!”

“What? Wait, Y/N, no, Ju–!”

You hang up before he can say anything else. You bounce on your heels as you flag down a cab, so awfully restless and you just want to tell someone. On the ride over, the driver keeps glancing at you through the rearview mirror every few seconds; your nervous energy must have infected him because you look like you just found out that someone is freaking dying. When you arrive at your destination, you take a deep breath before you hurry up the stairs. Jimin’s building is old and has no elevator, which normally sucks because he lives on the fifth floor and you absolutely despise stairs. But right now, you have so much adrenaline coursing through your veins that five flights feel like a piece of cake.

You have no doubt that the men inside know it’s you from the way you ring his doorbell repeatedly. Jimin opens the door with an exasperated look, to which you pay no mind and just press a quick kiss against his cheek in greeting before you barge into his home in search of Taehyung.

“Kim Taehyung! Where are you? This is an emergency, I need y–!”

When you do find him, however, he isn’t alone. Sitting next to Taehyung on the couch and holding a bottle of beer to his lips, is none other than Jungkook. You all look at each other awkwardly as the words die on your tongue, killing some of the nerves while you bite your lip to keep your mouth shut. Jimin waddles into the living room after he shuts down the door and plops down next to Jungkook. Now there are three pairs of eyes on you.

“Oh, uhm, hi,” you say to Jungkook. “I didn’t know you were here.”

“Hi,” he says, and offers you a beer on the table. “Want one?”

What you said to Yoongi at dinner wasn’t exactly untrue. You and Jungkook are kind of in a better place now. In the last few days, since you had your little chat in his car, he’s let up on the crap that he was pulling before. Something still feels off to you though. Feels like his head isn’t really in it, that he’s still doing this for the sake of trying to ease his guilt by going along with what he thinks makes you happy. Whatever. It’s at least a little progress, you suppose.

“No, that’s fine.” You wave Jungkook off before inching closer to Taehyung and pulling him up by the arm. “Uhm, I just needed to talk to Tae and I’ll be on my way!”

You drag your friend into the guest bedroom that Jimin has recently turned into an office, all the while ignoring his shout of “This better be good! Don’t forget to tell me later!” as you shut the door.

You glare at Taehyung. “Okay, why didn’t you tell me that Jungkook was here?”

“I tried to!” He raises his hands in surrender. “You hung up on me. I texted you about it.”

You rummage through your bag for the phone that you so hastily shoved in there before getting into the taxi. The notification on your screen glares back at you.

[21:42] Taebear 🐻: jungkook is here btw. dunno if you’re cool with that

“Right…” you mutter. “My bad.”

“Well?” Taehyung prompts, then his face turns worried as he gives you a once-over. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

You inhale deeply, holding onto his wrists and staring him dead in the eye. Even with the door closed and with Jungkook and Jimin all the way in the living room, you keep your voice low. “I think I just got propositioned.”

Your friend blinks slowly, or rather, he closes his eyes for five whole seconds before he opens them. Taehyung visibly relaxes when he comprehends that you are, in fact, okay and healthy, and that you’re just being overly dramatic.

He pushes your hands away. “Fuck off. I thought something bad happened.”

“Something bad did happen!”

“You are literally the worst person.”

“I’m serious!”

He groans and looks at you like a disappointed parent. “Fine,” he relents, “what happened?”

“I think Yoongi sort of pimped himself out to me today.”

Taehyung opens his mouth, closes it, and does it again a few times. “You can’t just say that and not elaborate.”

“He said he likes me.”

There comes that slow-ass, neverending blink again. Taehyung looks like the meme, like he’s seeing the world in nothing but equations.

“I fail to see how that would be considered pimping oneself out.”

“Well, you have to hear what he said after–”

A mop of fluffy blond hair materializes out of thin air, startling you both. You didn’t even hear him come in. That sneaky little thing. “What are we talking about?” Jimin asks, lowering his volume to match yours. “Why are we whispering?”

“Why are you here?” You look behind him at the door that he left ajar. “Where’s Jungkook?”

“He’s in the living room.”

“By himself?”

“Well, there’s no one else here, so duh.”

You exhale exasperatedly. “Now it’s gonna look like we’re talking about him.”

“Aren’t we?”

“We’re talking about Yoongi,” Taehyung says, casting his eyes to the ground briefly.

“Yoongi?” Jimin asks, glancing between you and Taehyung with a slight frown. “Your Yoongi?”

You raise an eyebrow in question. “What do you mean my Yoongi? There’s only one Yoongi. He’s the Yoongi.”

“Okay. So what’s up with the Yoongi?”

Taehyung turns to his wonder twin with an unamused look. “She’s doing that annoying thing where she gives you a single detail of the story and you have to ask her to keep going every time.”

Blondie makes a face. “Oof, yeah, that’s annoying. Don’t do that.”

You gape at the two of them. “I’m giving you tea and you’re complaining about my storytelling skills?”

You should’ve expected it, should’ve known what was coming the second that question left your mouth. The guys don’t even need to look at each other to be in sync when they echo, “Yes.”

“But seriously,” Jimin says, “what about Yoongi?”

“We went to dinner tonight and he… said he likes me…” you tell him, and physically recoil at the memory. Oh… the horror. “And he said, oh my god I can’t even repeat it without wanting to jump off a bridge, he said to let him be my revenge dick.”

Jimin gasps. Taehyung chokes on his own spit. They both sputter out, “What the fuck?”

“Right?!” you cry, still so fucking mortified by the experience. “I almost died just sitting there. I can’t believe he made me listen to that with my own two ears.”

Taehyung is the first one to turn serious. “What happened after that though?” You don’t know what you would do sometimes if there wasn’t a Kim Taehyung to ground you.

“Well, I came here.”

“So…” he drags out the single word, “you ran away from him?”

Jimin looks at you expectantly too, wearing the same question in his eyes. You frown at them. “What? No. I threw salt on him and told him to stop fucking around and then I lef– Oh my god, I did run away.”

Shit.

“Hold up, what the fuck,” Jimin cackles, like this is all just so funny. “You threw salt on him?”

You let out a nervous laugh, and point finger guns at your friends idiotically. “But it’s fine. Because obviously he didn’t mean it.”

“Why would you think he didn’t mean it?” Taehyung asks.

“He’s an annoying little shit sometimes! And,” you keep your volume under control again, “he hates Jungkook. He’s only doing it to piss him off.”

Taehyung purses his lips, regards you with a look you don’t like because you’re trying to sort through this logically, convince yourself that it isn’t real and that Yoongi is just missing April Fool’s day by four whole months. Why is your friend making this more difficult?

“Is it so hard to believe that someone can like you?”

“Yes,” you say seriously, “when that person is Yoongi.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s Yoongi!” You throw your hands up. “He’s not like us.”

“I hate to break it to you, but celebrities aren’t above having crushes.”

You look at Jimin for help, but he just shrugs, choosing silence as the neutral option or maybe staying silent is just his way of agreeing with Taehyung. This isn’t the reaction you expected when you rushed here to give him the goss. Taehyung doesn’t blindly support your every decision or try to rationalize your every move just because he’s your friend. He tells you to your face when you’re being absurd, so you really don’t get why he’s the one being unreasonable right now.

“Oh my god, please,” you say. “Yoongi absolutely does not have a crush on me.”

Jimin chimes in. “Well, he did literally just admit that to you.”

You send him a glare that says, Oh, so now you’re talking?

You turn to Taehyung again. You can’t believe this is happening. Are you two really arguing? About whether or not Yoongi actually likes you? While Jungkook is sitting by himself in another room? You bet nobody has this on their bingo card.

“I told you. He’s just trying to fuck with Jungkook.”

“Why do you keep saying that? Why do you think he’s trying to fuck with Jungkook?” Taehyung challenges.

“Because he’s my friend!” you groan. It’s the most obvious thing in the world, but no one seems to believe that Yoongi is just your friend. “You’re my friend too. But you’re being so fucking annoying now.”

He narrows his eyes at you, as if to prove a point. “Yoongi is that good of a friend that he would go out of his way to mess with someone he hadn’t even met until a couple weeks ago?”

“I– well– maybe!” you stammer, blinking up at him. The height difference is clearly not doing you any good. “He’s a very petty person. And when he isn’t being a little shit, he can be a very good friend.”

Taehyung scoffs, seriously getting on your nerves. It isn’t even any of his business. You just wanted to tell him for the sake of sharing with your best friend, not ask for his opinion on any of it. He doesn’t even know Yoongi, never even met him.

“I know what people are like when they’re in love with you,” Taehyung mutters, eyeing the ground. Jimin makes a noise and nudges his friend in the rib, shaking his head while he does so.

You, petty little you, want to fire back. “Oh, so Yoongi is in love with me now?”

Taehyung opens his mouth, prepared to continue his assault on your sanity when Jimin has to step in, waving his hands in front of you both. “Alright, that’s enough,” he says. “Why don’t we just call it a night and let’s reconvene when everybody is thinking straight, yeah?”

Taehyung doesn’t even look at you. You try to release your frustrations through a loud exhale, but it doesn’t do much. When all of you venture out into the living room to leave, you remember that Jungkook is still here. He looks at yours and Taehyung’s disgruntled expressions, then at Jimin’s face as he not-so-subtly shakes his head, silently telling him to not ask any questions. Poor guy, this was boys’ night after all. You couldn’t have spent more than 30 minutes in Jimin’s office. He was just quietly drinking his beer and watching TV out here, unaware of everything going on in the room just down the hall. Now everybody seems pissed and the night is spoiled.

You bid Jungkook and Jimin a curt goodnight before you head for the door, saying nothing to Taehyung because he clearly doesn’t deserve any pleasantries after tonight. You end up going home with more questions than answers.

You hate this. You hate it so much.

Now that you’re finally starting to actually coexist with Jungkook – of all people! – the other men in your life have to come for your head?

You haven’t spoken to Taehyung since that night, which was only three days ago, but still. It’s the longest you’ve gone without talking to your best friend. You don’t know what was up his ass, and Jimin has just been telling you to not overthink it, that Taehyung will reach out when he’s calmed down. It makes zero sense to you, because how does your situation affect him in any way? What does he even have to calm down from?

With Yoongi, on the other hand… Well, you’re still convinced that he was just being good old insufferable Yoongi. This is how he has always been – teasing, easy going, and has a good rapport with you. That night was just a fluke. Maybe he had too much to drink and didn’t know when to stop the joke from getting too carried away.

You are not fighting with Yoongi. You are not fighting with Yoongi. You remind yourself of this, so that when you see him in the studio next, everything is okay.

Yoongi arrives some time after lunch and brings everybody coffee. You expect him to be lighthearted as always, which he is, and you expect him to sit next to you as always, which he does. He laughs with Seokjin, chats with Namjoon about the art scene, pokes “friendly” fun at Jungkook every now and then. You two work side by side, bouncing ideas off each other like you normally do. He doesn’t mention the dinner, which makes you feel a whole lot better about that night because see? Everything is fine. If everything is fine with Yoongi then everything is fine with Taehyung too.

Some time around 5pm, Yoongi asks if you should all go out for drinks tonight. He gets shot down by the guys though. Apparently no one is up for after-work drinks on a Tuesday night.

“You’re no fun,” Yoongi grumbles before turning to you with hopeful eyes. “Y/N?” he whines, “Indulge me like you usually do, please?”

“No, thanks,” you decline. You glance up in time to see Jungkook quietly chuckling to himself. “Today is my self-care day.”

“Tuesday is your self-care day?”

“Because tomorrow is Wednesday. I have a pre-Wednesday routine.”

“Did I ever tell you that you’re very weird about Wednesdays?” Seokjin asks.

You hum in thought for a moment before answering him. “You did. And then you told me a really bad dad joke.”

He makes an exasperated Ahh noise as he recalls the very moment, then blasts his booming windshield wiper laugh when he remembers the joke he made. “Hey, that joke was killer!”

“It absolutely was not! The only decent one that I’ve heard from you is–”

“No, no, hey,” Yoongi cuts in, “don’t entertain him and his stupid jokes. Come onnn, you know I hate drinking alone. Go for a drink with me, princess. You used to be my drinking buddy all the time.”

“Uh huh,” you scoff. “And look where drinking with you got me.”

“I allow fraternizing in the workplace as long as I’m still the priority, guys,” Seokjin chirps in.

“That’s not what I meant,” you say quickly. “No one is fraternizing with anybody!”

Yoongi hums quietly. He drops his volume, just for your ears. “No? Is that your answer then?”

“What?” you whisper. You don’t know why you’re whispering. You just do it because Yoongi is doing it.

“You kinda ran out on me the other night.”

“I didn’t–”

He gives you a look.

“Okay, maybe I did… but only because you were being ridiculous!”

Yoongi licks his lips and tips his head toward the door. He’s the first one to stand up and head out of the room, followed by you half a minute later. You appreciate him wanting some privacy for you two to talk, but you don’t like that this is a conversation that needs privacy. You were all just joking around in there. If this is still a joke, why is he leading you out here?

Walking out the door, you hear Seokjin call after you, “Fraternizing!”

“That is not what’s happening!”

You find Yoongi in the empty breakroom, leaning against a counter.

“You can drop it now, Yoongi,” you say.

“What?” he tilts his head, looking at you curiously. “You still think I’m messing around?”

“Obviously.”

“Why is that?” he asks. “What makes that so hard to believe?”

It’s what Taehyung asked you the other night too.

Because you’re you! is what you almost say. It’s the same answer you gave Taehyung, because, well, do you even need another explanation? You don’t tell him that though, thinking it might offend him somehow. Instead, you throw him a question.

“Okay. Sure. Let’s say that you are serious. What happened? When did you even start liking me? Why are you telling me now?”

Yoongi exhales gently, straightening up to walk closer to where you are. He stops when he’s right in front of you, looking right into your eyes and using the same voice he did that night. “I always liked you. I liked you last year when we first worked together and I like you now. The only difference is then, you weren’t trying to move on,” he says, so unwavering that it makes you stagger.

That… is not what you were expecting. You blink up as he smiles down at you fondly. You feel lightheaded. Maybe even scared, because what if he means it? He sounds too sincere for it to just be all fun and games. You remember the way he held your hand when he made you put on that stupid fancy lotion.

His voice keeps lowering, and you hate that it makes you nervous. Your stomach twists, your heart pounds against your ribs.

“If you’re moving on now, can’t you do it with me?”

Looking back now, were there signs that you should have noticed?

You stand there, processing, not knowing what you should say to him, not really even breathing anymore. Yoongi must interpret your silence as realization, recognition, because he chuckles, again amused by your reaction.

“Yoongi…”

He stops you, though you weren’t going to say anything else. You feel like you could cry. Maybe he sees it in your eyes. Yoongi pats your arm gently, still smiling. “I’ll let you sleep on it, princess.”

When he leaves the room, you keep standing there by yourself. So Taehyung was right? Your friend who has never had a single interaction with Yoongi, who has only heard about him from the stories you shared, could tell that there was something there? That Yoongi had feelings for you all along?

At the dinner, Yoongi said you were always oblivious.

Is it possible that you really had no idea, or did you just force yourself to look the other way?

That night, was he hurt? After you repeatedly dismissed him and eventually walked out?

Oh, Yoongi…

When someone enters the room after you’ve been standing here for what feels like forever, navigating the sea of your own thoughts, you startle to life.

“You okay?” Jungkook asks, eyeing you as he goes to fix himself a cup of coffee.

“Yep, mhmm,” you respond. You try to shove away all of your unraveling emotions. They could wait until later.

You have no idea why you’re still standing here, watching Jungkook make coffee with his back to you, but that’s arguably a better idea right now than to go back to the studio where Yoongi is.

“You know,” Jungkook starts, pressing the buttons on the fancy coffee machine that you don’t know how to use. “I don’t think it’s very professional. Y’know, Yoongi flirting with you all the time.”

You stare at his broad shoulders with your brows furrowed, already on edge even though you don’t know what he’s referring to.

“What?”

“I don’t think it’s professional,” he repeats. “Yoongi flirting with you all the time.”

“When has Yoongi ever flirted with me?” you ask. It’s meant to sound sarcastic and defensive, hoping he’ll take the hint to back off but really, now that you’ve said it, it’s a question that you yourself would genuinely like the answer to.

“Admit it,” Jungkook says, turning around to face you. “It’s not like he tries to be very subtle about it. All the nicknames, always complimenting you, even when he put his hands all over you the other day right in front of us! There’s no way that you’ve missed the way he looks at you sometimes.”

You blink a few times, not sure if you heard him right. You hope your brief silence gives him a chance to backtrack when he sees how offended you are, but he just stares at you. Jungkook really does have the worst timing, and it doesn’t take long for your anger to overflow. Moving forward together in peace lasted a whole week, huh?

“Even if Yoongi is flirting with me, how is it any of your business?”

“It kinda is my business, though, isn’t it? Considering he does it at my place of work.”

Oh, he’s gotta be kidding.

“Okay, it’s your place of work,” you hiss. The steam rising from his fresh mug of coffee might as well resemble the cartoon-like smoke churning from the top of your head. Jungkook seems taken aback by your reaction, but honestly, what the hell did he even expect when he said something like that to you? “So you fucking the receptionist must be so professional, right?”

Paling about a hundred shades, he looks like you just poured a bucket of ice cold water over his head. The gulping throat, the parting lips, the guilty eyes and his whole demeanor exuding shock and embarrassment, because Jungkook didn’t know that you knew, let alone foresee that you would throw it in his face. He stands there, dumbfoundedly muttering, “How– Who told you about that?”

You ignore his question. Why does it even matter who told you? If you were less angry, you would be more curious as to how he thought this was going to go. Why would he say something like that out of nowhere?

He said he deserved your rage? He wanted you to be mad? Fine. Be careful what you wish for.

You feel sick to your stomach and he would come to you and say shit like that. Like Jungkook can dictate anything about your life. Like he has the right to fuck things up and leave when he’s had his fun.

Your sinuses burn when you speak next. “You don’t see me running to you, whining about how Jihyo always looks at me like she wants to gouge my fucking eyes out. How she’s always so nice and bubbly to everyone but then when it’s me, she acts like I ran over her fucking dog.”

Yeah, he definitely wasn’t expecting this reaction.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“No, just save it. You talk a big game about trying to do right by me and then you go and say shit like this. How many times do I have to tell you? I’m so fucking tired.”

People often say that you should never make decisions when you’re angry. No one wants to end up regretting something they said or did in the heat of the moment. You’ve always thought that this is good advice, and you always try to live by it because you know your temper can get the best of you sometimes.

The keyword here, though, is try.

You run a hand through your hair, feeling infuriated at this point because Jungkook keeps fucking explaining himself, even though he’s the one who started this whole thing. You can’t even properly hear what he’s saying, all of his words going into one ear and out the other. Something about it not meaning anything and ending it with her months ago.

You take a deep breath and look into his panicked eyes.

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite.”

You think he’s apologizing again, from the way his lips form the words I’m sorry, but your pulse is ringing so loud in your ears that you don’t really catch the sounds. The anger inside of you still simmers despite having spilled over. Your face is so eerily calm that you hope it scares him. When you turn on your heels to leave, you know he’s following you back to the studio. You sit back down beside Yoongi but you don’t meet his eyes. You keep your gaze trained on the open notebook, nursing that anger.

You should’ve known that there’s no moving forward with Jungkook. If anything, he just wants to tie you to the past and never let you leave. Is he that immature, that selfish that even after all this time, after what he did, he can’t stand the idea of you and someone else?

You briefly make eye contact with Jungkook from across the room before you turn to Yoongi, your voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

“On second thought, that drink does sound nice,” you tell him with a smile. “Pick me up at 9?”

919 notes · View notes

maybege · 1 year

Note

217 with paz pls🥺

Home Is Where The Heart Is

Summary: You visit Paz at one of his conference after not having seen him for a long time.

Pairing: sugar daddy!Paz Vizsla x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 9.1k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Paz, sub!Reader, a whole lot of size kink, hints of exhibitionism, unprotected sex, idiots in love, kind of a fake relationship agreement not really a sugar daddy arrangement, lots of checking in and pausing due to size difference (Paz’s BDE is real), crying during sex (from pleasure not pain, Paz makes sure of that), just pure fluff and happiness but also they are idiots in love so remember that

Prompts: #3 “I'd hold onto something if I were you.” + #32 “I just wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it.” + #217 “Can you help me with this zipper?” + “There we go.”

Thank you, anon and @adancedivasmom for sending in these prompts! I know it has been a very long time in the making but inspiration strikes when it strikes and I wrote over half of it in the last 48 hours. It drifts from fluff to pure filth back to utter fluff and I just love how idiots in love I can put in with these two. They have the most unconventional relationship (again, a reminder that this is not an actual sugar daddy dynamic, it is just a kind of very unusual meet cute) so of course they will also have an unusual way of perceiving and revealing their feelings for each other. You can find the Masterpost to this AU here (including some hcs). I really had a lot of fun writing this and I hope you have a lot of fun reading it as well. Pretty please let me know what you think in a comment or a reblog, they really do mean the world to me and motivate me so much when it comes to writing and sharing my little brain babies. ❤️

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

gif by @bernthality

“How is my favourite cat?”

“She is busy knocking over the flowers you sent over.”

Crash!

You sighed.

“Maybe we should really invest in these break-safe vases your sister recommended,” you murmured, trying to sit up so you could peek over the edge of the sofa. Safe enough, Snowball was sitting on the sideboard in the entryway, peering down at the shards as if it was as much a mystery to her as it was to you.

“That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea,” Paz chuckled, rubbing his chin, “I will text her tomorrow.”

The sound of his laugh seemed to get Snowball out of her thoughts and she bounded for the sofa you were currently laying on. With a loud meow, she jumped onto the armrest, laying low so she could butt her little face next to yours, in plain view of the camera.

“Look who has come to say hello,” you smiled, tilting the phone so he could see her more clearly. Your other hand reached up to scratch her little chin.

“New York’s most important cat,” he agreed and you hoped the phone would pick up the purr she let out as she leant into you.

“She misses you,” you murmured, “She hardly stopped staring at the door yesterday.”

As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You had sworn to yourself, in the early days of your fake relationship or whatever it could be called, that if there was one thing you would do it was to lift Paz up. And if that required you to hide how much you missed him (ridiculous amounts, really) then so be it.

“I miss her too,” he sighed, “And you.”

“How is the trip so far?” you asked, trying to sound more chipper, “Are the investors as happy as you’d hoped?”

“They are as boring as I expected them to be,” he shrugged before a slight smile formed on his lips, “But I cannot wait for the shareholder’s dinner on Saturday. Are you still planning to come?”

“Of course, I am,” you said indignantly, sitting up at the, “We haven’t seen each other in three weeks!”

Paz laughed, “I am sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean any offence,” his face softened, “Briggs will pick you up on Friday for the flight so you have time to relax. There shouldn’t be a lot of appointments I made sure –“

“Mr Vizsla? There is – oh.”

You could see one of his assistants in the background, clearly only now releasing that he was in a private conversation. There was a quick flash of displeasure on Paz’s face that disappeared as soon as you noticed it and you were sure that it was only because you knew him so well by now that you had recognized it.

“It’s all right,” you soothed him, already seeing the apology on his face. He had once said he hated goodbyes, especially because they were never his choice, and you could see it now, too, the way he seemed to be searching for the right words to appease you.

“I will see you in a few days,” you smiled, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he sighed, “Give Snowball some kisses from me, yeah?”

You spent the week feverishly preparing for your trip. It was funny to think that the part of your relationship that you found the most luxurious was the one that was actually at the core of your arrangement. Paz was lonely and on many occasions, his advisors advised, would work in his favour if he had a female companion to fulfil the picture of the man who had his life together. So somehow your accidental match on a drunken night had led to you being his travel companion. And the platonic companionship had quickly developed into something … not quite platonic.

To think that a stupid drunken idea by your friend had led you to sit on your bed, surrounded by the prettiest dresses you had ever seen and contemplating which one to take.

The doorbell rang you out of your thoughts and you laughed when Snowball skittered over the wooden floorboards to greet her second favourite man in the world.

“Briggs, you are early,” you greeted the older man with a smile and no venom in your voice. If there was one person on Paz’s team that made you feel welcome, it was him. Paz’s most trusted advisor and, quite tellingly, also yours.

“Good morning, Miss,” he nodded at you, straightening his tie before bending down to pet a purring Snowball, “Good morning, Miss Snowball.”

“You know you can call me by my name,” you reminded him as you made your way back to your bedroom and your half-packed bag.

“Old habits die hard, Miss,” the older man called from the living room, “Are you quite ready? I have arranged a car to take us to the airport, it should be here in five minutes.”

You rushed into the bathroom and picked up your already prepped toiletries bag and stuffed it into your suitcase. It might just be a weekend trip but if there was one thing you had learned when travelling with Paz Vizsla for business it was that it was always safe to pack two fancy outfits for every occasion – just in case.

“Five minutes should be enough,” you answered, “I got most of the packing done yesterday, I just need your help with something.”

When you popped your head through the door, you spotted Snowball rubbing herself against Briggs’s legs as the man primly sat in an armchair. He turned to look at you and the two dresses you were holding up. “Which one do you think –“

“The dark blue one,” the man decided with a nod, already knowing what you were going to ask, “Mr Vizsla has his dark blue tie with him, that should harmonize nicely.”

“Thanks,” you sighed a breath of relief, carefully folding the dress on the very top before closing the bag, “I can always count on you to make the best choices.”

“And to be on time,” the man added, standing up and running his hands over his jacket, “Which means that we should get going if do not want to miss our plane.”

The conference meeting Paz was attending took place on the coast, in one of those fancy beach hotels that looked like it was a luxury that had survived from the last century. It was stunningly beautiful and you found yourself admiring the golden accents and hand-painted wallpapers before you could even start to really appreciate the tastefully quiet piano player in the corner.

“Welcome, are you checking in?” the receptionist greeted you as another employee loaded your suitcase on a golden luggage trolley.

“Uh yes, I am here to join Mr Vizsla,” you answered, always feeling a little nervous when you had to make your connection to him known.

Recognition dawned on her face. “Ah yes,” she typed something into the computer before handing you a key card, “Mr Vizsla told us to be expecting you. Here’s your key card, you’ll need it for the elevators and all the amenities which you will find on the second floor. Just around the corner here,” she leant towards you and pointed towards a little nook, “take the elevator up to the eighteenth floor and you will find your room on the right side of the hall. Do you need anything else?”

You nodded, taking the card in hand. “That would be all for now, thank you.”

“Should I have your bags brought up?”

“That would be kind, thank you,” you smiled at the young man who hurried your bag away.

Briggs, who waited behind you for his turn to check in, cleared his throat. “Mr Vizsla is still in some talks, I’m afraid but if you like I could organize a dinner reservation for you.”

Shame filled you when you remembered what time it was. You hadn’t even thought about food. “I think, I will be fine, Briggs, thanks, I will just get some room service.”

The older man nodded, “Then a very good night, Miss. I shall see you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Briggs.”

The suite Paz stayed in was, not to anyone’s surprise, absolutely gorgeous. The bedroom was large and the bed the largest you had ever seen. You smiled when you saw one side completely untouched – your side – and his clothes neatly folded on one of the armchairs. The wall opposite the bed was dominated by a flat-screen TV and the little desk by the window could barely be seen through piles and piles of paperwork.

After tipping the bellboy, you immediately took off your shoes and buried your toes in the soft cream carpet. You always dressed for comfort when it came to travelling but there was still nothing better than unpacking your suitcase and putting on your pyjamas for a comfortable night in.

You had just checked your cameras at home (Mrs Marigold had been so kind to volunteer and check in on Snowball every day) and made sure that Snowball was comfortable and taken care of when your phone vibrated with a new message.

Paz: Talks take even longer than expected. Don’t wait for me.

Then, just a moment later, another message popped up.

Paz: I am glad you are here.

You: Should I order some food for you? Gonna get some room service.

Paz: Got dinner here but I can recommend the tacos on there, had them yesterday and they were delicious.

You smiled at the screen, sending him a quick heart emoji. Already feeling closer to the. And so, you ordered yourself the tacos, watched reruns of The Nanny and lounged on the bed, already knowing that tomorrow you would wake up with Paz beside you.

You flinched up, eyes wide open as something woke you. You just didn’t know what. It took you a moment to realize you were in a hotel room and not at home. Someone was beside you and your heart stopped in fright for a second before it resumed beating in your chest.

It was Paz.

“I’m sorry,” the man whispered in the dark, scooting behind you, “I missed you.”

You smiled, relishing in the heat of his body against yours. He was shirtless and his mouth on your shoulders made you giggle. But your smile faded when he shifted away from you and the bed lifted with someone taking their weight off it.

“What are you doing?” you mumbled, reaching your arm behind you only to find cold sheets.

“I need to shower,” he grumbled, “I stink.”

“Don’t go,” you pleaded, “We can shower tomorrow.”

You could hear the grin in his voice, “We?”

The blanket was lifted again and he was back behind you, so close not even a sheet of paper would have found space between your bodies. In the back of your mind, you wished you weren’t as tired, that you could appreciate his presence more. But then his arm wrapped around your middle and his breath fanned over your neck and you felt the happiest in weeks.

“Yes,” you murmured, closing your eyes again and allowing your body to drift back to sleep, “We.”

It was barely light out when you woke again.

“Paz?” you asked, sleepily, reaching for him only to find the space beside you empty. Again. You sat up, afraid that perhaps all of it had been a dream. What if Paz hadn’t come last night? What if something had happened?

Blinking, you finally found your focus and heard the water shut off in the bathroom. Moments later, Paz came in, a towel wrapped around his hips and you bit your lip. In the curtain-clad twilight of the room, it seemed he had not noticed yet that you were awake, sneaking his way to the wardrobe and taking out a new dress shirt.

You let your eyes roam over the broad expanse of his back, how the muscles bunched and flexed as he moved through the room. There was that spot just under his shoulder blade that you loved to run your hands over and if he just turned around – ah yes, there was that tattoo that you traced with your fingers.

“I thought we would shower together?”

Paz looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours and even in the dim light, you could see the smile on his face. He let the shirt fall and with two big steps, he was at the end of the bed, crawling towards you as you let the blanket fall from your chest and wrapped your arms around his neck. He breathed in deeply, his nose running over your jaw. And then his lips were on yours and you got to kiss him for the first time in weeks.

You hummed, smiling against him as your fingers played with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, still a little damp from his shower. His mouth was gentle on yours and the stubble on his chin let you know he hadn’t shaved today.

“I missed you, sweetheart,” Paz whispered between kisses, his mouth wandering to your jaw. You closed your eyes, your arms loosening around him as you tilted your head to the side to give him more access. “Did you miss me too?”

“Uh huh,” you brought out, his large hands cupping your face, his entire hand spanning your jaw to behind your ear, “Missed you so much.”

“Can’t wait for the dinner tonight,” he said, turning your head so he could kiss you on the mouth again, his tongue slipping between your lips. You shuddered, your fingers combing through the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. You loved seeing him in his professional get-ups with his hair slicked back and his sharp-cut suits. But there was something to say about how different he looked when he was just freshly showered. He looked much lighter, brighter and overall softer. Like a truer version of himself that you knew he hid when he attended meetings like these.

“Briggs helped me choose the dress,” you murmured, leaning more and more into him, “You will love it.”

“I’ll be sure to thank him,” he whispered back, pulling you against him and leaning back until you straddled him, “I have a meeting this morning as well. I am afraid I won’t have more time for you until tonight.”

“When will you need me?” you asked, taking in how soft he looked. There was no frown between his eyebrows, and he looked so … peaceful and relaxed.

He was silent for a moment, his eyes fluttering as you traced your finger over his jaw. “I always need you,” he whispered and closed his eyes, turning his face to the side and pressing a kiss to your palm, “I swear I don’t know how I ever got through these things without you.”

“I am sure you did fabulously,” you assured him with a smile, kissing the corner of his mouth, “And it will all be over tonight.”

“It will all be over tonight,” he repeated in a murmur, “And then I can show you how much I missed you.”

Hours later, the ringing phone woke you from your dreams.

“Hello?” you asked groggily into the speaker, feeling even more tired than when Paz had left you this morning to attend the very last meetings.

“Good morning, Miss, this is the reception calling,” a woman chirped from the other end, “Mr Vizsla asked us to remind you of your spa appointment in an hour.”

You huffed with a smile. That was so typical of him.

“Thank you,” you murmured, “I really would’ve forgotten about it.”

“Would you like to order room service for breakfast?”

“Uh, yeah,” you asked, looking frantically around for the menu, “I, uh, I don’t know what I want yet …”

“May I suggest our breakfast special?” the woman on the line suggested candidly, “It has some fresh pressed orange juice, coffee, pastries and eggs however you want them.”

“That sounds good,” you nodded, “Could I have them scrambled please?”

“Of course, I will have it brought up shortly.”

When the afternoon was nearing its end, you felt more relaxed than ever in your life.

Paz had booked what felt like the entire spa menu for you and after all kinds of massages, treatments and relaxing sauna visits, you felt like you were living on a cloud. But truly the best thing about your spa visit was that it distracted you from the entire day you had without Paz. Because as soon as you opened the door, you were greeted with your very favourite sight.

Paz Vizsla was clad in only briefs as he unglamorously hopped into a new pair of slacks.

His face turned up and a blinding smile came onto his lips. A smile you could only reciprocate.

And before you knew it you hurried into his arms and he hold you against his chest, stumbling from how his feet were tangled into the piece of clothing but you couldn’t care less when he kissed you like a man starved.

“Remind me to never go this long without seeing you,” he grunted between kisses, “I always hate it.”

You couldn’t answer from how his tongue was playing with yours, your core clenching at how close he was. Stars, you wanted to do other things than preparing for dinner.

And it seemed that Paz wanted that too because his hands cupped your ass, pushing you against him and there was definitely a prominent bulge pressing against your hip.

“When’s the dinner start?” you asked breathlessly, running your hand over his warm chest before tracing your fingers over his lower stomach.

Paz’s hips surged forward, urging you to touch him and you could feel your cheeks and frankly your entire body heat up with want. “Too soon,” he answered, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling you between his legs. His hand shifted to your hips and he looked up at you.

The bathrobe you had worn to the spa gaped open at the neck and you watched him tug at the fuzzy belt with a smirk. The cool air caressed your bare skin and could feel your nipples harden under Paz’s admiring gaze.

You lifted your knee to the bed right next to his hip, hoping to look as enticing as possible. “Don’t you think we have enough time for a –“

“I am not going to have the first time I fuck you in weeks be a fucking quickie,” Paz complained, though his hands did pull you closer for a minute, “I want to take my time with you, make you feel good.”

“You always make me feel good.”

“I could make you feel better.”

“Paz,” you whined when he pushed your leg off him, making you stand again, “Please.”

But the large man was not to be swayed, even with his erection too prominent to ignore, “Not yet, sweetheart, just let us get through this dinner first.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

You pointedly looked at his crotch.

“Don’t you worry,” he grinned, “I am going to take care of that and then I am going to take care of that tuxedo Briggs got me to bring.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“But you love me for it.”

And the sad truth was: You did.

“Can you help me with this zipper?” you asked, turning your back to a just-emerging-from-the-shower Paz, “I can’t reach it.”

Paz did not let you wait, immediately stepping behind you, the heat of his body radiating onto your back. “You look so beautiful,” he said, his fingertips grazing your bare skin before getting a hold of the zip. It was a dark blue silk dress, one that accentuated and hugged your curves and made you feel irresistible with the deep back and swooping neckline.

“We’re in partner look,” you joked, glancing at the dark blue tie he was wearing, “You look very handsome, Mr Vizsla.”

He grinned, turning you around, “And I am sure no one will notice when I am accompanied by a beautiful woman such as yourself.”

And you were proven right because the first words you heard when you entered the hotel’s restaurant that had been booked for the occasion were: “Mr Vizsla, what a beautiful companion you have brought with you this fine evening.”

“Mr Organa,” Paz greeted the man in front of you, “A pleasure to meet you again.”

He introduced you to him and you shook the man’s hand, reciprocating his friendly smile. “I do hope we get to talk again, Mr Vizsla,” the man said when the bell rang, “But now I think it is time to eat.”

Spending the evening with him once more reminded you of how much you loved him – even when you tried your hardest not to. Paz made sure to scoot as close to you as possible, his chair touching yours and it did not take long for his arm to settle comfortably on the back of your chair.

He laughed with his business partners, talking numbers and making jokes and it took everything in you not to spend the entire time just staring at him like a love-struck teenager. Mrs Organa, who was fortunately sat next to you, involved you in a conversation about the most recent restoration projects of a Mr Boba Fett and so you spent the evening with Paz’s fingers brushing your shoulder and the occasional kiss on the cheek and talking to an incredibly interesting woman.

And still, all you wanted was for Paz and you to be alone.

“When do you think it would be not too early to go?” you asked him teasingly as the dessert was served. It was a delicate chocolate-y creation, served on a giant plate with what looked to be mango sorbet beside it.

His arm left your shoulders but his hand immediately landed on your knee, fingers drifting even higher. Paz chuckled, “I’d suggest now but the way you’re eyeing that chocolate soufflé has me thinking otherwise.”

You glared at him for his joke but the man just grinned, his dark eyes twinkling with joy as he took a bite of his own portion. The conversations around you continued and you watched as almost everyone went out to the dancefloor and the lights dimmed on the dining tables.

But all you could do was admire Paz out of the corner of your eyes. He was relaxed, leaning back in his chair as he observed everyone and even when he was lacking any tension in his shoulders or on his face, he looked so much in control of everything.

Stars, he was handsome.

His hand crept up on your thigh and you shifted, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks as he planted a kiss on your bare shoulder. “What are you thinking about, love?”

You loved when he called you that.

“You,” you replied, tilting your head to the side and smiling when his hand came up to turn your face towards him, pulling you in for a kiss.

“What are you wasting your precious thoughts on little old me?” he teased you, his big hand cupping the side of your neck.

“Old? Maybe,” you grinned, “But little? I don’t think so.”

He growled playfully, surging forward to kiss you again. Hard. His teeth grazed your bottom lip and you opened up for him, letting him control the kiss. When his free hand slipped down your side, his fingers passing your chest dangerously close, you squeezed your thighs.

“Paz,” you whimpered against his neck, gasping for breath, “I haven’t felt you in weeks.”

He growled, his hand landing dangerously high on your lap before discreetly squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh, his fingers so close to your core you were surprised the fabric of your dress did not come back with a wet spot. “Believe me,” he said, “I am more than aware of how long it’s been.”

Eternally grateful that the other guests had left your table to join the dancefloor, you opened up your legs the tiniest bit for him, needing his fingers just that much closer. Way closer than they were now. The grin on Paz’s face made your heart (and pussy) pulse and you swallowed thickly.

“I just missed you so much,” you said quietly, trying to bite your lip seductively.

“Did you now?” he leant forward, his nose brushing against yours. His fingers flexed, brushing higher on the inside of your thighs.

“Uh huh,” you nodded eagerly, cupping his cheek to hold him closer. The stubble was rough under your fingertips and you remembered that time he ate you out in his city car in bright daylight. Stars, the things this man did to you ….

Paz chuckled darkly and kissed you again, soft and gentle while his fingers brushed over the thin fabric of your panties. His teeth tugged on your bottom lip just as your hips bucked against his hand and all shame left you.

If he wanted to fuck you out in the open you might just allow it if it meant you could finally feel him again.

But suddenly Paz was standing up and you were standing up and he was holding your hand, thick digits wrapping around your wrist as he dragged you towards the exit. You stumbled after him, a little confused but more excited than anything.

“We’re leaving now,” he grumbled, pushing the elevator button, “Waited weeks to see you again, I am not waiting any longer.”

The doors opened and Paz let you in first. You watched as he pressed the button at the very top and then turned to you. The look on his face made your breath catch in your throat. He had his hands in his pockets and the dark suit looked so good on him and then he had that slow smile on his lips as he approached you.

Your back bumped against the wall of the small room and your hands behind your back grabbed onto the waist-high bar they had installed on each wall.

“That’s right,” he murmured, his big hands caging you in, “I'd hold onto something if I were you.”

“Paz,” you said, your voice barely a whisper between the two of you.

“What?” he mocked you, his nose dragging along your shoulder, “All speechless now that you finally have my attention?”

You did not reply, probably proving his exact point but stars you were so turned on you just did not know what to say. Especially not when his large hand drifted along your thigh before grabbing your knee and lifting it up to his hip. He slotted his body against yours and his bulge pressed against your core. XXXX

“Don’t worry, I won’t take you like this,” he assured you, slowly grinding against you, “Can you tell me why?”

You whimpered, trying to move against him to get that pressure on your clit that you so badly wanted but his hips had you pinned in place.

“Tell me why first,” he instructed, “Then I’ll let you move.”

“Because-cause it’s too big,” your cheeks felt flush with warmth, “You don’t fuck me without preparation because you – you don’t want to hurt me.”

“Good girl,” he grinned, showing his teeth before using those same teeth to drag down the strap of your dress. Your head fell back and you regretted wearing a bra that night because it meant your nipples were rubbing against the lace instead of the cold fabric of Paz’s dress shirt.

The elevator pinged and you froze, your eyes immediately flitting to the little number over the door. This was not your floor.

Paz had a steel grip on your knee, preventing you from taking it from his hip. You could hear the door slowly opening and your heart raced for reasons other than the sheer excitement that Paz caused in you.

You watched as the dark-haired man slowly turned around, uncaring about the mess of his hair or your half-naked form in his arms.

“Take the next one,” he said and pressed the button for the doors to close. Then he leant back to you, one hand cupping the side of your neck, his thumb brushing over your jaw, while the other wandered from your knee to your hip, gripping at the naked skin.

You did not even catch a glimpse at the people he had spoken to. Paz’s body was completely shielding you from their view and somehow that did not help the wetness between your thighs.

“I swear sometimes all I could think about was what it would be like to fuck you again,” he whispered in your ear before pressing a kiss just underneath your earlobe, “

The way from the elevator to your room was a blur of wet kisses, wandering hands and hot skin. Somehow, Paz managed to find the key card in his jacket and you both fell into the room more than you walked, refusing to let go of each other.

Paz walked you back to the bed, one hand reaching for the lube on the nightstand while the other opened his belt. Your breathing felt heavy and you were sure your panties must have been completely drenched at this point. Your hands found the hem of your dress and you pulled it up to your hips, not having the patience to get completely undressed.

Stars knew you had the time tonight. You could take it off later.

Paz pulled out his cock and you watched mesmerized as he put a generous drop of lube in his palm before wrapping his hand around his shaft. The cocky smile on his face told you that he had caught you watching but you were. At this point, your relationship with Paz was nothing new – especially not your physical one – but his size always left you feeling nervous.

He was not only long but also thick and while you knew.

“Could stare at your pussy all day long,” he murmured, his fingers tightening around his shaft before rubbing his fingers carefully over your folds. You squirmed, the lube making you feel. One finger entered you and shortly after another one.

Paz pumped his fingers inside you slowly, his eyes mustering your face for any sign of pain but all you did was whine, trying to push your hips against his. Your walls clamped around him and when his thumb rubbed over your clit ever so slightly, you swore you already saw stars.

“Feels like you are ready,” he determined, the pace of his fingers picking up before slowing down again. Until they barely moved.

“Oh, stars why’d you stop?” you threw your head back, arching your back so you could take them deeper, “Don’t stop, Paz.”

A third finger appeared at your entrance and Paz pressed a kiss to your hip. “It never gets old,” he murmured against your skin, “Watching you take my fingers.”

“Would be much rather taking your cock right now,” you replied breathlessly, moaning when he pushed his fingers a little deeper.

Paz did not answer in the form of words but he pulled his fingers out and stood up. Having him look down on you gave way to another rush of wetness from your core. He looked so dishevelled and sexy, half-dressed with his cock hard as a rock.

“Spread ‘em for me,” he growled, taking his cock in his hand while the other pushed on your inner thigh. He stepped closer between your legs, his hand warm on your thigh.

“Good girl.”

Your walls clenched around nothing at his praise.

The feeling of his cock against your pussy brought back that little nervous voice in the back of your head. What if he would not fit?

But Paz knew how to calm you down. The heat of his body against yours paired with his forearm resting next to your face and his fingers tracing your hairline as he looked at you was the perfect combination for you to focus just on him. On the feeling of his skin against yours, the sound of his heavy breathing in your ear, the scent of his cologne in your nose.

When the tip of him pushed inside you, you gasped. He was bigger than you remembered and you were thankful for the amount of lube and your wetness that eased his movements.

Your breathing got faster and you could feel your walls stretch to accommodate his size. Paz’s fingers and you. His brows were furrowed and though his eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, they always met yours and you knew, you just knew, he was trying to see if he hurt you.

It felt like he was pushing all the air out of your lungs and you found yourself holding your breath, feeling his small thrusts stretch your walls more and more. Your belly fluttered and you felt so close to him that it made your heart sing.

“How – how much more?” you asked in a gasp, pushing your chest against his shirt to get some sensation on your nipples.

The large man looked down between you, his hand absentmindedly coming up to pinch your nipple, making you squeeze around him.

He chuckled, his nose brushing against yours when he looked up again, “It’s barely in, love.”

Your smile fell and panic took over for a solid second. You could see the moment Paz took in your change of heart because his smile faded as well and his hand came up to cup your jaw. “What is it, love? Are you all right?”

“What – What if it is too big, Paz?” you asked shyly.

Paz frowned, though you did not get the feeling that it was because he was displeased with you, and slowly pulled out. “Then I will make it fit,” he said, “Or I will make you come on my tongue. Whatever you want, my love.”

You whined, immediately missing the feeling of him inside you. He peppered kisses along your neck, his hands under your dress, gripping your ass as he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed. His eyes focused on your core and the sparkle you saw in there made your heart flutter and your pussy clench.

Pulling your knees to your chest, you tried to give him more space. “I want you to make it fit,” you decided, feeling a little embarrassed at sounding so needy, “Please.”

Paz hummed, “Always so polite.” His shoulders pushed against the back of your knees as he looked at you. His eyes were so intense and, at that moment, you were convinced he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“Deep breaths,” he reminded you, his thumb circling your clit as he rubbed his cock all over your folds, “I know you can take it. You know you can take it.”

You nodded, more to assure yourself than him. Because he was right. You had taken him countless times before and you could take him now. And if you couldn’t then it would not be the end of the world.

Noticing you relaxing back into the sheets, Paz rested more of his weight on you. “Do you remember our safe word?”

You nodded quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer.

“I do,” you confirmed, “You won’t hurt me, Paz.”

“I know how stubborn you can be,” he reminded you gently before pressing a quick kiss to your lips, “I want you crying because I gave you too many orgasms, not because I am hurting you.”

You smiled at his comment but that smile quickly turned into a silent Oh when he circled your clit with his cock. Then he tapped his shaft against your pussy again and again and again. He felt hot and heavy and the wet sounds only spurred on the fire inside you. Stars, you wanted this man so bad.

The change in position helped a lot because this time he got the tip inside you like it was nothing.

“You are doing so good for me,” he murmured, his hips moving against yours in slow and small thrusts while his finger kept playing with your clit, “You are such a good girl for me, love, you deserve the world.”

There was nothing you could answer. Your throat was full of words but all you got out were breathless gasping sounds as you felt him get deeper and deeper. In your search to hold on to something, anything, you found his hand. You gripped his fingers so tightly, you were afraid to hurt him but Paz only squeezed back, his dark eyes searching yours and probably finding nothing but utter devotion in them.

Just like his.

His lips landed on yours so gently, it distracted you from everything. There was nothing but you and him and the way you felt so connected.

“Feel that?” he asked you quietly, his breath mingling with yours. You blinked, not really knowing what he meant. Paz smiled, his eyes softened when he laid his hand on your lower abdomen. “You took it all, sweetheart, you took all of me.”

“Oh,” you murmured, a little astonished, “Really?”

He laughed, “Really, love. How are you feeling?”

You thought for a moment, trying to take in all that you were feeling. “Full,” you answered truthfully, “But good.”

“Good, huh?” Paz started to move again, slow at first, making sure there was enough wetness and not a single trace of pain on your face, “It feels good to have me fill you up like this, huh?”

You nodded, too shy to repeat his words. Something was just how filthy he could get. And how he loved to fluster you with his said filthy words.

“Fucking dreamt of your pussy gripping me,” he grunted in your ear, his pace picking up, “Next time I am taking you with me. There is no way I am going to fly anywhere again without you sitting in my lap and taking my cock like a champ.”

“What – what about your advisors?” you asked, your body moving up the bed with the force of his thrusts.

“They can watch for all I care,” he murmured, “I already know the only one who can make this pussy stretch is me. I am the only one that can make you feel like this, aren’t I? The only one who can make you come and still beg for more.”

You nodded helplessly, feeling like you were about to burst at the seams. And then Paz changed the angle of his thrusts ever so slightly and you were done for.

“P-Paz, fuck, I’m –“ you gripped his shoulders, the tingling in your belly getting stronger and stronger, “Paz, I think I’m coming.”

Normally, that would only get him to move quicker, to have his fingers work on your clit in a way that was sure to get you over the edge before he came inside you. So, what you expected from your breathless announcement were Paz’s encouraging words while he slightly pinched your clit and bit your lip. What you didn’t expect him to do was simply stop his thrusts with an uttering of “Not yet you aren’t.”

Completely dazed, you looked at him as he pulled out. “Stand up,” he instructed. His voice was stern but not unkind and you blinked, watching him take off his tie and quickly unbutton his shirt. Your body ached with the lack of him and you weren’t sure if it was a tremble in your muscles that only you noticed but stars you felt like you were shaking.

Paz completely undressed and you tried your best to put your weight on your legs, your hands gripping the edge of the bed. But sitting up after having your thoughts fucked out of you by one Paz Vizsla seemed to be a bad idea because it just wasn’t working.

Paz seemed to notice your struggle, his hands pausing on his belt and he tilted his head, watching you fall back on the bed with a sigh.

“Do I need to call you Bambi?” he teased you, his hands coming up under your elbow and gently helping you up, “Or are you that fucked out already?”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to think of a good reply. Only you could not come up with one because, stars, did he look good and, stars, did it feel good to be fucked by him. And it felt good to be with him and to touch him and to be touched by him and –

He stepped closer until his chest was pressed against yours, not saying anything. Your hand gripped his forearm and you waited with bated breath as he leant slightly over you. His fingers brushed over the nape of your neck, down your back until he found the zipper of your dress and slowly pulled it down, his hand tracing over your spine in the process.

When he reached the end, you shimmied your hips, the dress pooling at your feet. His eyes roamed over your figure, noticeably stopping at the way your panties were still pushed to the side.

“Beautiful,” he said, more to himself than to you but it warmed your heart nonetheless. Wordlessly, he helped you out of your underwear as well, his hands caressing your skin every chance he got. You had never felt so desired in your life.

His hand closed around your elbow and he started moving across the room.

“What are you doing?” you asked, following him away from the bed. You still felt uneasy on your legs but you knew you could trust Paz to hold you up and when he noticed your difficulty, he slowed down before stopping at the window front overlooking the city.

“I just wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it,” he explained as if it was no big deal.

You paused for a second and so did he, taking in your reaction.

“There is something about fucking you for everyone to see and knowing that no one gets to see you like this,” he elaborated, “Because I want you to look out at the world when you cream around my cock and recognize how fucking perfect you are.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

His smile lit up the entire room and he took your hands in his, positioning you exactly how he needed you. His calm but dominant demeanour made your pussy pulse again, reminded you how fucking confident he was when it came to your pleasure and how happy it made you to be able to fulfil some of his desires as well.

“There we go, put your hands right here and – beautiful,” he murmured, his hands intertwining with yours against the glass, “Now just spread your legs and there we go.”

The glass was cold under your palm and you could see the fog forming around your hand where the temperatures collided. Behind it, you could see the colourful lights of the city that a million people called their home. You were so high up there were barely any buildings that even reached your level but it did not help your nervousness to know that behind each little light there was at least one person.

There were hundreds of lights in your view.

You turned around, wanting to look at Paz for guidance. He slid his hands down your back before groping your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. He was unmistakably looking at your pussy and you shifted, feeling exposed under his gaze and in this position. Your movement made him look up, meeting your eyes.

“Don’t look at me,” he said, his hand gently pushing you to turn back, “Look outside.”

Easy to say when he wasn’t the one whose knees would get weak once he started to get going.

“The whole city is awake and yet no one can see us,” he whispered, pushing his cock slowly back inside you. You sighed, resting your cheek against the glass. The cold air and arousal had caused your nipples to harden and you were highly aware of how your tits swung with each movement.

“Stars, imagine all the places I could take you, all the places I could fuck you,” he mused, one hand coming up to cup your tit, his finger and thumb rolling your nipple. You moaned, tilting your head to the side. “I want to have you with me everywhere I go,” he continued, “I don’t want to wake up another day with the knowledge it’ll be weeks before I can see you again.”

“Paz –“

“There we go,” he hummed, pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade, “That turns you on, hm? Knowing there is nothing I wouldn’t do to feel your pussy come around me. I could get us the room with the best view in the whole city everywhere we go,” he pulled on your nipple and you cried out in a mix of pain and pleasure, “And then I would fuck you against that view and still the only thing I would want to look at is you.”

Your heart and your pussy clenched at sheer adoration in his words. “You are so fucking beautiful, love.”

“Paz, please, I –“

“What is it?” he asked you, his voice just on this side of mocking and why did that make him even hotter now, the way he made you feel a little too out of control, “What do you need, sweetheart?

“I need you to come in me.”

“You don’t get to decide that,” he reminded you, his hips not stopping their movement. Instead, his hands tightened on you just the tiniest bit and you whimpered, “You know I am the one who decides when I come in you. And it is only ever after I feel this,” he tapped his fingers on your clit, “tight pussy clamp around my cock.”

“I know, I know, but I,” you trailed off in a whine, pushing your hips back against his to try and work with his rhythm, “Please, Paz, I need it now.”

“Then beg me for it.”

You bit your lip, whimpering when he did not cease his ministrations on your clit. It pushed you even closer to the very edge and you could have cried from frustration. You just needed – You wanted – Why wouldn’t he just –

“That’s what I thought,” he mocked you, kissing your neck, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how shy that little mouth of yours is. You can’t wait to have your pussy stuffed with my fat cock but my innocent little sweetheart cannot even say the word cock. Or come,” he groaned, grinding into you, his fingers tugging on your nipple again, “Or pussy.”

“So, if you want my come before I planned to give it to you,” he breathed against you, “You have to beg for it, love.”

His rough tone made your cheeks burn and your pussy clench. Of course, he had noticed, Paz Vizsla was a ridiculously attentive man and there was a reason he was as successful as he was. You just had not thought that it would turn against you at some point.

“I am waiting,” he teased you, his cock once again hitting that spot that literally made you see stars.

With your hands slipping on the now warm glass and your pussy getting wetter and wetter, you knew there was only so much you could do before you would come.

“Please, Paz,” you cried, “Please come inside me, I need you to come inside me. Please, I – “ you hiccupped, tears stinging your eyes, “I want to feel you come inside my pussy.”

“Fuck, you really are that needy,” he stated, “Who would’ve thought.”

“Please,” you whimpered again, a single tear making its way down your cheek, “Please, Paz, I will do anything you want.”

You could barely stand, trying to keep your hands on the window and your knees from buckling. But that only got harder with each thrust of him inside you. And he was getting closer too. You could feel it in the way his breath hitched, or how his mouth sought out your neck, something he liked to do before he filled you up.

“Hm,” Paz mused, one hand coming up to hold yours against the glass. His entire body pressed against yours, holding you up and making you feel. “Anything, you say? What an enticing offer that I will certainly get back to. But for now, I think you begged prettily enough.”

His words should not have relieved you as much as they did but they did. More tears streamed down your cheeks and you let your head fall, trying to focus on how good you felt, how your entire body tingled with him close and how he.

While one of Paz’s hands stayed on yours, the other arm reached around you and found your clit. “You ready to get filled up?” he asked you, playing with that bundle of nerves, “You want to feel my come inside that tight little pussy. Want me to make you that pretty little mess I know you like to be?”

You nodded eagerly, “Uh huh, p-please, I want that.”

Paz groaned, the sound pure heaven to your ears, and his pace picked up. His thrusts got harder and deeper and ended with him grinding even more into you like he wanted to reach places you did not even know existed. And it made you feel that much better.

“Good girl,” he praised you, “If there is anyone who deserves my come, it is you.”

Clamping your walls around him and trying to move your hips against him, you did your best to make him feel as good as he made you. It was when he got quiet that you knew he was close and not even a moment later, he pulled you straight up, pressing you completely against the glass and him inside you.

You gasped at the cold feeling on your skin, but there was something undeniably erotic about having your tits squeezed up and Paz behind you. He buried his face in your neck, sucking a mark into your shoulder while he ground into you again and again. And it was that feeling of him coming inside you, paired with his fingers still very much circling your clit that made you come around him as well.

And it made you almost black out. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth opened in a silent gasp. You could feel your walls squeeze uncontrollably around him, milking him for all he was worth and you were pretty sure you had lost all control over your limbs. You were just hanging there, mouth open, pussy overflowing and legs trembling with the love of your life right behind you.

“Oh shit,” Paz laughed, feeling you tremble between him and the glass, “It’s a big one, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

You couldn’t really answer but you also knew you did not need to. Because Paz was there to take care of you.

For a little while, he did not move at all, simply letting you ride out your climax while he slowed his strokes over your clit. Time and again you could feel him twitch inside you and you thought to yourself that big one didn’t only apply to you – he had come so much inside you, it was already dripping out around where he was softening inside you.

“You are doing so good for me,” he whispered finally, pressing another kiss to your neck and you turned your head, trying to get him to properly kiss you. And he did, his lips gently landing on yours while he, very carefully, pulled out of you.

The feeling of his come flowing out of you made you grimace and shift on your feet.

“Bathroom?” he asked you quietly and you nodded weakly.

The hotel bathroom was all white marble and had fancy lights and even though Paz only switched on the mirror light, it made you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper. Why was everything so fucking bright?

“Shhh I know I know,” Paz murmured, wrapping his arms around you and leading you to the shower nook, “But I know you will want to clean up, right?”

You nodded against his chest, relishing in his body heat. “Forgot my shower stuff though,” you remembered with a frown.

Your big man chuckled, turning on the rain shower to the perfect temperatures. Not loosening his arms around you, he turned you both so you could tilt your head back and let the water flow over your body. “That is okay, love,” he said, his thumbs gently rubbing circles on your back, “You can use mine.”

The thought of smelling like him made you smile and, feeling a little more like yourself, stood up on your toes to kiss him.

Paz did not wait for a second to reciprocate but you noticed he held back.

“What is it, Paz?” you asked him, running your hand over his wet hair and wondering if he would ever consider leaving it as curly as it was, “Did you not like it?”

He shook his head with a smile. “It was more than I could ever dream of, love,” he smiled, “I was just thinking …”

You tilted your head, watching him consider his words.

“I meant it when I said I want you to accompany me on my travels.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “So you can fuck me everywhere you want?” you joked, trying to hide the very real fear that his feelings did not run as deep as yours did. Sure, you had started your arrangement on quite superficial terms but it had been a long time since anything you felt for him had been superficial.

“No,” he shook his head, “I mean, yes, that too, but … I missed you, sweetheart, a lot and I don’t think I want to spend my time away from you when there is a way that we could be together.”

“I mean we also spend a lot of time together when you are home,” you argued, drumming your fingertips on his chest, “I thought maybe you would like to have some alone time once in a while?”

“About that …” he rubbed the back of his neck and seeing him made you realize something very fundamental.

You could not contain your smile, leaning a tiny bit back from him to really take in all of him. The way he avoided your gaze, how he shifted on his feet as if he was nervous, how he.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?”

“You can keep your city apartment, of course,” he assured you immediately, “I was just thinking, I mean … I have this big place and Briggs keeps pointing out it is due for some redecorating and I …” he interrupted himself, drops of water falling from the tip of his nose and lashes, “When I am with you and Snowball I feel more at home than anywhere else in the world. And I am wondering if you feel the same way?”

Of course, I feel the same way, you wanted to scream at him, I have been in love with you ever since you asked me to take care of Snowball.

But you remained silent on that front, not wanting to scare him away. Instead, you reached up to pull him closer. His nose brushed yours and the tiny frown between his brows betrayed his insecurity. How rare it was to see Paz Vizsla insecure.

“Yes, Paz,” you smiled against him, kissing him slow and thoroughly, “I would very much like to move in with you.”

The look of complete happiness on his face, when you pulled away, was only echoed on yours. You were sure your grin could only ever be rivalled by his and you squealed when he pulled you up and spun you around, water flying everywhere.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me,” he set you down. His hand found its way to the side of your neck, his thumb and finger spanning your jaw. He did not let you go and his grin faded, replaced by a look on his face you could not quite pinpoint except for how warm it made you feel, “You have no idea how happy you make me.”

“I might have an idea,” you replied shyly, feeling your heart beat against your chest. Was this the moment you could tell him? Was this where you confessed your undying love and revealed just how much you would do to see him happy? How you wanted to wake up with him every morning and fall asleep with him every evening and spend your weekends with him and Snowball curled up on the couch?

But when Paz rested his forehead against yours, you convinced yourself that the moment had passed. Sure, he wanted to move in with you but did that really mean anything? Maybe he just wanted to put another layer of security on your fake relationship arrangement?

“So …” you murmured instead, “How are we going to tell Snowball she is going to move again?”

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader #smut #sugar daddy!paz vibes

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