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coweye · 5 months ago

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The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice.

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was.

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot.

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired.

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face.

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her.

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised.

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features.

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully.

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling.

“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red.

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man.

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry.

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits.

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie.

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?”

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed.

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping.

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline.

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers.

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted.

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet.

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists.

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.”

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp.

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?”

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form.

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue.

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now. “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-”

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily.

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other.

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion. “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that.

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground.

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind.

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him.

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy.

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you.

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead.

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do.

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip.

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura.

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan.

He’s just Logan.

You bury yourself deeper in his neck.

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut.

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs.

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?”

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you.

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back.

“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not.

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue.

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter. He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips.

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his.

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist.

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart.

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you.

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close.

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve.

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him.

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him.

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional.

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he.

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth.

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you.

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-”

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you.

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch.

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth.

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast.

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole.

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin.

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it.

He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach.

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin.

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard.

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy.

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you.

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers.

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go.

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does.

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing.

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably.

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down.

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh.

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection.

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again.

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind.

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence.

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched.

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“AGH!” Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you.

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend.

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous. Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands.

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you. Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?”

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously.

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest.

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different.

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours.

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back.

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

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chuluoyi · 7 months ago

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𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!

credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!

next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire

general masterlist | series masterlist

“I accept the divorce.”

Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.

You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.

“My god... how can this be!?”

“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”

Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.

But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:

“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”

Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”

“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”

Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.

“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.

This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.

“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”

“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”

You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”

This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.

How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...

SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE

To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.

Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.

You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.

The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.

“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”

Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.

“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”

“Hmph.”

To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.

How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.

—and once, he thought he knew who you are…

. . .

Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.

You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.

Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—

“My princess, may I have this dance?”

Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.

Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”

Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.

“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.

How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?

And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”

Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”

Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.

. . .

Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.

What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.

YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.

Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.

But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.

“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”

Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.

“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”

YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE

“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”

Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.

You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”

This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?

Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.

“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”

That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.

“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.

It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.

When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?

"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."

You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.

It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.

You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.

The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.

. . .

"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"

You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.

"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."

You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.

"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."

Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"

As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.

And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.

...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.

The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.

Because if they really did... then...

You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.

You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.

You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.

Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.

"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"

Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.

And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.

SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE

He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.

Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.

A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.

But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.

"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"

Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.

"Emperor Satoru—"

"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"

A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"

Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."

That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.

There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.

"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."

No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"

Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.

"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—

What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.

“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”

“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.

He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”

“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”

You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.

After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.

"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.

You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.

His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”

“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”

He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.

"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"

Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"

A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."

"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."

"A favor...?"

"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"

Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.

"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"

His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.

And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—

"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"

He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."

With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.

Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.

The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.

However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.

Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.

Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.

You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.

Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.

Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.

Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?

I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.

This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?

Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?

Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.

Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!

You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.

Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.

No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.

You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.

And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.

He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.

Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D

If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.

And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.

Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?

You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.

So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D

Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!

You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.

However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.

. . .

"Your Majesty..."

For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.

"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.

A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.

"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.

The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.

The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.

"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."

To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.

You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.

Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.

If I can't be the empress here...

And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—

...I'll be one somewhere else.

It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?

Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.

It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...

Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.

Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—

"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.

"Shoko! What the heck?!"

Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.

Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.

"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"

"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.

"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."

Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?

The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?

"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.

"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."

She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.

When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.

You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.

“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”

Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...

“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”

You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?

“My queen, ah, there you are.”

Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.

You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.

It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.

What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?

"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."

You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."

He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.

"How do you find being the emperor?"

"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"

"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"

"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.

"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."

Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...

And beguile you.

His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."

He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.

Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.

But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—

"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"

Huh? What…?

That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—

“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”

No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.

“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”

Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.

“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.

How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?

Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”

He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.

His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.

One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.

You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.

And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—

“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”

“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”

It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.

"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."

You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.

"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"

Good riddance, you thought.

"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"

"I accept the divorce."

Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."

The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.

"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"

"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."

You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.

"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.

"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.

Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—

Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.

"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"

Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.

And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.

"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"

In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.

"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.

You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—

"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."

Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.

True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.

And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.

"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."

You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.

And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.

To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.

If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...

Today is the day.

Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.

Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.

Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.

With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.

This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.

"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."

The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.

Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."

You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—

But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:

"And here I present to you, your new empress!"

The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.

It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—

“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”

"I have something for you!"

You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.

"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.

He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."

Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.

He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.

"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"

A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—

"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.

It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...

"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.

"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"

This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.

"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."

"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"

"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."

Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.

Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.

"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."

But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.

You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.

"You have me now," you whispered in response.

Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.

Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.

And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.

"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.

You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.

"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."

As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.

Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.

He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.

This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.

"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.

"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"

Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.

Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—

"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.

"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."

His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.

"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."

Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.

It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...

"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"

You looked up to him. "You would..."

"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"

"Mhm..."

You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."

He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—

The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.

"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.

You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.

You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.

"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"

"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"

And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.

"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."

One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.

"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"

He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."

He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.

"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.

Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.

"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."

Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"

"You don't have to—"

"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."

And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.

"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.

You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"

And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.

Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—

"You're flawless, sweetheart."

2 MONTHS LATER

"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."

The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.

Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.

"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.

"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—

"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.

What?

Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!

She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!

Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.

"A baby girl, Your Majesty."

In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.

"You useless tramp."

Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.

He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.

And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.

How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.

"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."

"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"

You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.

And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.

. . .

"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"

You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.

With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"

He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."

Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.

"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"

"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."

"But—"

"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"

Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.

He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"

"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.

At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.

But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...

"Ugh..."

Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.

You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.

Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.

"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."

It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...

You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.

You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—

...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.

Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:

"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."

"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."

"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"

"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"

You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.

. . .

Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?

11K notes · View notes

outrogi · 2 years ago

Text

How do I even begin to express what this story made me feel?

Not only did it move me to the point that my tata plushy is gonna need a good wash from all the tears I let go of during my read sorry tata! but it had me reevaluating so much of myself personally

ah, gentle dreams..

There’s many things I’m taking with me after finishing this devastatingly beautiful story, but the main one is a reminder that even our yoongi irl always tells us:

Dreams don’t need to be grand to be important

There’s courage in dreaming, in choosing to dream even after heartbreak, even through loss and changes of plans, in letting go of dreams altogether for a while and let them reshape as we heal

Both dreams and courage take so many forms, neither is a one size fits all, one way to do it, or ever really go the way we think either

This story was so… fulfilling, gentle, soft, painful but in the most understanding way, and the longing my god

The playlist is absolutely so perfect to listen to while reading, giving the reader further insight on some scenes, I had it playing on repeat as I read and I’m pretty sure it gave even more fuel to my tears

Oh and the parallels of present and rewind chapters having essentially similar emotions as protagonists as the chapters progress is a such beautiful pace for the story! Such a wonderful detail giving a clearer look at their romance and the path that’s led then to where they are now

Gahhh, there were moments I was absolutely devastated, but was filled with such understanding of why things happened the way they did, even tho it hurt like hell

Beautifully written, so so breathtaking, this is another pair that will stay with me for a long, long time

I’ll finish this with a line said by one of the characters, perhaps it’s a semi-spoiler, but I couldn’t not share what had me sobbing like someone had just broken and mended my heart which technically, our dear author did with this story

“…Not in 10 years but now. Everyday. In this lifetime.”

All the love and praise to Mimi, always such a delight and privilege to read her work!

Belong (Series Masterlist) | MYG

Pairing: Yoongi x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: exes-to-lovers-to-exes-to-lovers; actress!OC x basketball coach!Yoongi; summer romance; “long” distance relationship; parallel timelines; angst, fluff, smut

Series Warnings: foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption & passing out, family drama, sport injury; dreams & moving away; implied depression; basketball and acting talk; 2014 and 2022 Yoongi; shy and nonchalant cocky whipped Yoongi; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Word count: 99.4k

Status: Complete

Series summary: Being an actor has always been your dream. Pursuing it meant many things - leaving the town where you grew up, distancing yourself from your family that had fallen apart, and saying goodbye to the man who made you feel what home was like. When you decide to finally return after being away for so long, you meet Min Yoongi again, and you’re reminded of the summer romance from 8 years ago with the college basketball superstar whose broken dream pushed you away. As you find yourself spending time with him, you’re left to wonder if love changes, if it gives second chances, or if it’s just another illusion that will hurt the both of you the second time around.

Maybe one day, in 10 years perhaps, or in another lifetime… Maybe then, we’ll finally choose us.

Playlist 🎶

A/N: Long-haired Yoongi in a basketball setting has not left my mind so here he is! This one’s a little emotional since I’m currently in an LDR to *pursue* my dreams so I hope you like it! 🫣🥹 No schedule of the posting this time (school/work is a little intense) so please just stay tuned. 😊

Part 01: Present day

1.5: Rewind

Part 02: Present day

2.5 Rewind

Part 03: Present day

3.5 Rewind

Part 04: Present day

4.5 Rewind

Post-credits

masterlist

#still crying yall. still crying. so is tata my bby i’m so sorry😭😭#i’m getting emotional just thinking of some scenes #AND YOONGI’S DAD AHHHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCH PLS #his shop sounded like the most comforting place on earth i just wanted a hug and a long chat from his old man. such a comfort character #the support group oc has too was so wonderful. every single role the boys had was just beautifully done #definitely another myg fave #THE WAY YOU FEEL THEIR LOVE FOR EACH OTHER BDKSBDKDB #ITS SO PALPABLE. IN EVERY. MOMENT. TOGETHER!! Even in the sad ones :(#okay i’ll stop yelling in the tags but GO! READ! THIS!#myg #angst myg #fluff myg #smut myg #fav myg #fave myg #yes i’m still reading a bunch of yoongi fics. i’m still affected my d-day and tour 🫠 he’s just more dreamy than usual lately can ya blame m

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personasintro · 4 months ago

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Mutual Help | 59

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, explicit content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 18.5k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

Sometimes you decide on things by feelings or whatever seems right at that moment.

You might've suggested something that has bit you in the ass right back. It didn't feel as satisfactory as it perhaps should have when you hinted on meeting new people. Although, it's a great opportunity for both of you to move on, even though just the thought alone leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

Not even the alcohol on it tastes as bitter.

Regardless of what kind of opportunity it turned out to be, you had to do it. You're slowly losing it and being in Jungkook's presence alone is not helping.

A jealous kind of person is not what you would describe yourself. When the word jealous comes to one's mind, they think of someone being possessive jealous in the worst kind of way. You might've been possessive about people around you, but in a healthy way.

Sure, the thing with Ester is not the greatest example of it, but that was something different.

There's something building up, something you haven't experienced with Jungkook before. You were jealous in the friendliest possible way. You don't want to dwell on it more than necessary, but with Ester, you were scared of her becoming Jungkook's close friend. It sounds terrible this way, perhaps a little toxic too – it's hard to describe and put it into the right words so one could understand it clearly. There are parts where even you don't understand it.

You're confident about what you and he have. From the moment you met to the point where your friendship is at. Even that is a bit debatable, but you don't want to go there. Not right now. And possibly not in the near future. There are certain things you don't want to think about.

Ones you're scared of.

Still. Seeing Jungkook having another friend who he genuinely gets along with, in a meaningful way caused you to act on the void you felt.

But jealousy is a human emotion nevertheless. And you totally hate it at the moment.

Because there's no Ester or any possible special friendships to be made. This is different.

Why the fuck you hate staring at Jungkook and Nara. That's what she's named and introduced herself as when she happily sat behind Jungkook, holding his waist as he drove them through the small waves on a jet ski.

Clearly, sharing a meaningful connection called friendship is not on top of her list. She's smiling the entire time they talk about whatever, even though it's the most casual topic. She's not the typical giggling type that smiles to whatever that's being said just to flirt. She seems genuinely interested in Jungkook. Maybe a little bit too much.

Okay, definitely.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You tap your fingers on the table, sun setting down as you watch Jungkook and Nara taking a fucking walk along the beach. You hate that after three drinks, you still have your stomach crumbled and twisted around.

There's no reason for you to be mad at Jungkook. You told him to meet people. You freaking hinted about him trying to get it on with other people. Okay, maybe you're irritated he took it seriously and clearly goes for it a little too soon. You also told him you'll be fine here while they go on a walk alone.

“So it's just you two here?” Gabriel asks next to you, catching your attention for the hundredth time in the past three hours. Yes, that's how long you've been spending your time with them.

They're fun and friendly. Nothing bad about them. Clearly young people who want to have fun. They're relaxed, fun and outgoing.

So why the hell would you rather have Min Yoongi here than having to witness all of this?

Mentally shaking your head at your ridiculous thoughts, you turn to Gabriel and tear your eyes off those two. You give him a stare that tells him enough about your suspicion by that sudden question.

“Relax, I'm just asking.”

“And I should believe you because?” you question him. You might've appeared slightly cold toward him. You're not sure if his friendliness wants to aim somewhere else and to something more, or he's just that outgoing.

Clearly, he doesn't want to back away because he's been very persistent. You give him that.

There's a slight spark between the tug and pull game. But it's not the one you're looking for.

“Because I'm telling the truth.”

There's chatter and laughter going from the other people you've been introduced to. You don't remember all of their names though. You hope you won't have to see them after this. God, that sounded so harsh. They're nice, you swear! But!

They don't give you any attention which makes your conversation slightly more comfortable.

“You're still a stranger. How do I know you're telling me the truth?”

“So just believe me–”

“That literally goes against–”

He laughs. He's handsome. Has a sharp jawline and a cute smile. “You're a piece of work.”

“I know. I'm amazing.”

He can't seem to drop his eyes off you. You've experienced those before. Which is why you're not sure if he's honest about that or if it's the trick of flirting with you. It seems like men always have some kind of ulterior motive behind their behavior.

You don't hate men. Even if it looks like it. You just don't trust them.

Unless they are Jungkook, Jimin or Taehyung.

Surprisingly, at least Gabriel doesn't annoy you in the Min Yoongi type of way. He's nice, not pushy and annoying which you appreciate.

You glance at him fully, both of you chuckling at your ridiculous conversation.

There's a deeper meaning behind his question. For the first time, he showed more of his prying persona. You can't blame him. It was bound for people to question it. You've grown used to it.

“Yes, it's just me and Jungkook.”

He nods, already knowing this but traces his glass. He had one beer an hour ago and after that one, he switched to lemonades. Somehow, you find that a little attractive.

“Our friends were supposed to go with us, but it didn't work for them unfortunately.”

He already knows you're staying at one of the beach houses, which to their expressions, they were a bit surprised to hear that. It's a more expensive side of the beach and while they're staying nearby, it might sound suggestive that you two alone are where families and lovers mostly stay.

“Didn't work how? What if it's their way to get you together alone?”

His question has a light tone full of teasing and suggestion, knowing exactly where this is going. He's trying to figure out your relationship with Jungkook, probably not believing two best friends that are on a vacation are only that. Friends. Well, that's quite debatable in all ways but you're not exactly going to share a full depth of anything related to your actual relationship to Jungkook.

Gabriel doesn't give you any vibes of being a snitch, but he's still a stranger. A handsome one but not even his pretty face could make you spill the tea. Anyway, he's definitely not asking because he's skeptical but mostly asking for himself.

You would've had to be blind and dumb not to notice his undeniable attention and interest aimed toward you. It's flattering and a compliment, really. More than anything else.

“Well, one of them ended up in a hospital with broken toes, so I would like to think he didn't do it on purpose.”

“Ouch.”

“Exactly,” you deadpan, sipping more of your drink.

He grins. He has a cocky twist to his smile. There's no denying he's a catch wherever he travels.

“Even though, you never know with him.” you say, watching Gabriel's confused look before you shrug and chuckle under your breath.

Taehyung loves himself too much to hurt himself. No matter how much he would love you and Jungkook messing around more.

Speaking of him, you glance back at the couple walking down the beach. There's nothing special or weird about it. They're just walking beside each other, there's even some distance between them now. Is Jungkook listening to your previous words and just trying to – you don't even know how to name it.

Is he trying to get to know someone else in hopes of getting more?

Is he planning to hook up with anyone from this group?

Because he totally could and there would be nothing you would do about it. But why should you in the first place? It should not bother you. You should be in the front row hyping him up to do it. You should smack his shoulder and tell him to go for it, like all the guys do.

So why can't you?

You believe it's because you've never experienced anything similar to what you have with Jungkook. Obviously, he's more than the sex God you've portrayed him as in your head. He's definitely more than that. But speaking just about that alone, the thought of him going for someone else and showing that side of him to some stranger he just met, honestly bothers you. It's too soon. And you know if you weren't too thoughtful, you wouldn't be in this position because you would've kept hooking up.

You wouldn't have to worry about him suddenly having sex with someone else. He would never do that when he's intimate with you.

Fuck. Why are you even thinking of all of this?

You did what was best for you and him. At the end of the day, it's just a matter of time before something like this happens. And you know it will and you're going to be okay with it. You will move on.

But perhaps you rushed into it. You've panicked and indirectly told him to just have fun. Without you. In that exact sense you're thinking of.

He's smart. Of course he caught onto the meaning right away and something tells you he's doing exactly that. You can't even be mad at him because you told him. You were the one who encouraged and pushed him to move on.

“I didn't mean to pry,” Gabriel speaks up, reminding you of his presence and your cheeks heat up even more under the sun that's barely up there.

You try to cover up your staring by looking at the sea before finally looking at him. He couldn't see the exact direction of your vision, but he could've guessed because they're right there.

“I just find it interesting.”

“Interesting?” You frown in confusion.

“You two.”

“What's so interesting about two best friends? Because one is a female and the other male?”

His brows shoot up, catching up onto your slightly offended tone. “I didn't mean it like that.”

“How did you mean it then?”

He hesitates, but your lifted brow that demands a response causes him to lick his lips as he sighs. “You've been checking him a few times now.”

You grit your teeth together. Not because you're offended that he indeed noticed, but you're embarrassed that he did.

“I've been checking on my best friend.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, trying to play it off as he puts his hands up in surrender. “I wasn't really trying to suggest something else. I just noticed that your friendship seems… special.”

“And it is.”

He nods, wrapping his hand around the drink as he picks up on the small droplets. “Nara won't bite his head off. She's cool.”

“I wasn't suggesting anything else.” You throw his words back at him. He notices, the left corner of his lips twisting in a smirk but he doesn't say anything about it.

“Would your friend bite my head off though?”

You arch your brow at him, “And why would he do that?”

“I don't know, maybe for trying to get to know you?”

“You're getting to know me.” you point out, knowing what he's hinting at but you're playing it off. An amusement dances in your eyes and he sees it, his smirk only getting bigger but the determination of getting straight with you is even bigger.

“I am.” he hums.

“Well, I can't promise anything. Jungkook is protective.”

“Surely he would understand I don't have any vile intentions. I mean, you're single, right?”

You gulp, stopping for a moment. You could possibly make some kind of situation. You're single but you weren't exactly free and down to meeting someone else. For multiple reasons. You could tell him you just got out of… relationship that had nothing to do with dating. Simply said, you could tell him you had a fuck buddy and now you're just focusing on yourself.

But considering your previous topic, he could easily catch on and for some reason, you don't want to risk it. You don't want any strangers knowing about you and Jungkook. It seems awfully personal and intimate.

“I am.” you mutter.

“So? He can't chase all men away from you.”

And he probably won't.

“I don't know… he did punch a guy for me.”

“What?” he deadpans.

You chuckle, “He was my ex. Said some nasty stuff. Kook didn't like it.”

“So he… punched him?”

“Mhm,” You take another sip. “He did deserve it though.”

“I would never say nasty stuff about you. Or any woman.”

What are you supposed to do with that information?

“Never say never.” you shrug.

“No, I mean it. I wasn't raised like that.”

“I don't think he was either. But sometimes we don't know ourselves. And sometimes we can surprise ourselves too.”

“I get that, but if your friend had to punch him for it, he obviously wasn't good.”

You look at your drink that's slowly disappearing. You should slow down. “He's not a bad guy.”

“Doesn't sound like it.”

You roll your eyes, “You've got an answer for everything, don't you?”

“You seem to be just the same way.” he points out.

“You've known me for a few hours, Gabriel. I could be a total bitch or a completely different person than you've made up in your head.”

“And that's why I would like to know you more.”

You stare at him.

Having to be in similar situations a few times, this time feels slightly different. Even though he's determined, he's not annoyingly pushy. He's good looking and has something in him that makes you flattered that he's not backing down. Showing a clear interest in you is not something you would gag at or roll your eyes like you usually would have.

“So if I wanted to invite you for dinner, lunch… whatever you want it to be, would you go?”

“Are you asking me on a date, stranger?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “I'm asking to hang with you and get to know you.”

“Umm, isn't that the definition of a date?”

“Could be,” he shrugs, “But I'm from Italy and you live on the opposite side of the world.”

“Exactly.” you point out.

“Oh come on, just say no if you don't want to.”

“Are you looking for a hook-up, Gabriel?” you question him, not wanting to beat around the bush. Somehow, you know he's honest but you have a hard time believing he's just interested in getting to know you.

Why?

Like he said. You live in different countries and both of you don't look like the type to have a long-distance relationship.

He starts coughing, taken back by your sudden straight-forwardness before he laughs, finding some amusement in it. “If you want to.”

“Is that why you want to get to know me?”

“No.”

You look at him skeptically, “I'm sorry, I just find it hard to believe.”

“Then I'm disappointed by the man you've encountered.”

“Hey, I have amazing men around me.”

Two of them probably broke more hearts than any of these people in this group, but they're amazing men regardless of it. It's the fact they never did it intentionally. And Jungkook is the definition of a perfect guy. Perfect in terms of loving and thoughtful person who would give everything to his loved ones.

“Never said you don't. You love your friends very much, don't you?”

That goes without a question. He sees the look on your face and it causes him to smile. For some reason, he seems smitten by you. Of course he does, look at you. You're amazing.

“You could say they're my second family.”

Perhaps if they were actually here, things would've been a lot different. That goes without debate.

Taking in the silence that follows, you can't help but glance in the direction where Jungkook and Gabriel's friend are walking down the beach. However, they no longer are and instead you find him taking pictures of her. She makes poses, showing off her toned and tanned body. And then she walks up to him, clinging to his side as he shows her the results. She seems to be impressed, as far as you know, it's hard to see it clearly from this distance.

And it's for the better, honestly.

“Listen, it doesn't have to mean anything more. Just us hanging out over a good dinner… or a lunch.”

Gluing your eyes back to Gabriel, which seems to be the safer choice, your eyes run over his features as you take a breath – realizing your stiffened posture before you relax.

“I don't have any sick intentions.”

“You know… you constantly making sure I know that kinda makes it harder to believe you.”

He laughs, shaking his head as he smiles at his drink. Your teasing brings some peacefulness into this conversation again. “Just let me know your decision. Take your time.”

You give him a smirk, knowing you're kind of running out of time. Both of you know it and that's why you both grin at each other. Before any of you can say something, the approaching chatter interrupts you. Jungkook and Nara join you, she says something which makes Jungkook smile and that's when he looks up. Your eyes meet and you straighten yourself, ignoring the way your heart squeezes.

“What's up,” Gabriel says next to you, looking at Nara who seems to joyfully sit down and take a few sips of her drink.

“Got some nice shots. Jungkook here is pure talent. I'ma show you later.” she says, smiling at Jungkook at the compliments she's giving him.

The corner of his lips turn slowly up before he glances back at you. Looking away, you poke the back of your front teeth with your tongue.

“What's your plans for tomorrow? We were thinking of visiting the water park here. It's brand new and apparently very fun. You wanna join us?” Nara asks, reaching for a bowl of fruit that Gabriel has ordered. “Anyone?” she points at the bowl.

Everyone shakes their heads before her previous question still sits in the air. She glances between you and Jungkook, awaiting your answer.

Once again, you look at each other without saying anything.

“They probably have different plans, Nara.” Gabriel notes, shrugging.

Not wanting to let them know about the lingering tension that somehow remains between you two, you take matters into your hands and give Gabriel a smile. “We don't yet, not definite but we'll think of something.”

They seem to be settled with that before the conversation moves to something else. Somehow it seems unfinished and by the time you and Jungkook are alone, walking back to your beach house, the feeling intensifies.

“So what about tomorrow?”

Jungkook is the first one to speak up once you get inside, a few minutes spent in silence after both of you are finished with your shower. You cut strawberries for yourself you got at the market earlier this morning.

“I don't know. We don't have any clear plans, do we?” you hum.

“We could look around the Island. See what's up there and decide then.”

“Sounds good.”

Jungkook stands behind you, in a safe distance but you can feel his eyes burning your back. However, he doesn't make a sound before a silent sigh leaves his mouth.

“Then what?”

“What then?” you frown, focusing on your cutting as he walks up to you. He leans against the counter with his lower back, crossing his arms over his chest. Luckily, he has put a t-shirt on. One second staring at him topless and you would be done for.

He's staring at you. You know he is, yet your eyes stay glued to the cutboard while you're taking your time with cutting the strawberries more precisely than it's necessary. “The water park. You wanna go?”

You halt, pursing your lips slightly. “Do you?”

He sighs again, “I think it would be a nice plan if we feel like it after we're done with the sightseeing.”

You stay silent before he taunts;

“Don't you?”

Your jaw clenches, “I think you should go if you wanna go so badly.”

He laughs sarcastically, “What?”

Fuck. You and your mouth. Composing yourself, you shrug before you put down the knife. “Didn't they want to go during the day?”

“Nara told me they will probably go in the afternoon. The heat is supposed to be crazy tomorrow, it's better to go later in the day.”

Of course, she did. Anything so she could go with Jungkook.

While that little comment sounds bitter in your mind, you do know Nara wants him to go. And you should not feel angry or annoyed at it. Maybe that's not why you're annoyed at it at all. It's simple knowing that Jungkook wants to go.

So forcing yourself to smile, you get the courage to stare him in the eyes. “You go if you wanna. I've got plans in the afternoon.”

Silence. For a split second.

“What?”

Another follows and you wet your lips as you shrug. “I'm going out with Gabriel.”

Well, he doesn't know it yet. He's waiting but you're guessing he will be more than glad to skip the water park. If he doesn't, that's going to be incredibly embarrassing for you and your ego.

Jungkook tongues his cheek, looking away as he scoffs silently. But the overbearing silence makes it ten times louder. “I see.”

“Jungkook–”

“Is this how it's gonna be?”

You gulp, “What do you mean?”

“We came here to spend time together but we spend it separately? Is that how desperately you want me gone?”

“Jungkook!”

He lifts his hand up, the point finger up as he motions for you to be quiet. “I'm going for a walk.”

“You don't have to–”

You don't get to finish it, he brushes past you and is gone before you can take another breath.

One of the worst habits you possess is the need to spill out anything that bothers you to someone. That someone is in most cases Jungkook, purely because he gives the best advice and comfort to anyone who needs it. He never judges and he just… gets it. He's that person you come to and can tell him anything, somehow the words he says or his mere presence is helpful enough.

For clear reasons he's not available – nor would he be suitable since he's the main reason why you're bothered in the first place. You're the one who messed up. For a moment you wondered whether you should go after him, to talk it out like any healthy person would do. But once you got out of the door, he was nowhere and to be walking alone around the Island with no one by your side is not something you wish to risk. Even though it seems to be safe here, you know he wouldn't be happy if he came back and you weren't here.

Or maybe he wouldn't care.

You would like to think he would. It's still Jungkook. No matter how many times you fight or there's tension, it's still him. But it feels wrong to count on this all the time, even though it's basic knowledge.

Sure, you've got other friends.

You wouldn't want to include Maya here. Purely out of knowing what her response might be – you've got to be a little selfish here because you know that's not something you want to hear right now. Anyway, she's probably planning her wedding or spending time with Namjoon. It feels rather awkward to be reaching out just because you find yourself in trouble. By your own responsibility.

But right after Jungkook, Jimin and Taehyung came.

Jimin is someone who gives you the hard truth, sometimes even scolds you but with the greatest intention. That's not something you need right now either way.

And Taehyung?

He makes everything look easy with the way he sees the world and particular problems. There is barely any problem in his world. He says fuck it on most things with his optimistic persona. He simply just doesn't care.

Therefore, he's the safer choice than Jimin.

Luckily, once you call him and he's alone, you briefly mention the issue here. You kept it safe for your own sake or selfishness. However, you didn't have to mention anything because he questioned Jungkook's absence right after he complained about Jimin and the fact he brings his girlfriend almost everywhere.

When even Taehyung is silent, you're glad you've chosen a phone call instead of a video one.

“So, let me get this straight… you go to Hawaii together but you're about to spend it separately?”

“Well–just tomorrow afternoon. I didn't think it's such a big deal.”

“But you purposely encouraged him to–I don't even know how to call it–go and find fun somewhere else?”

You gulp, regretting now that Taehyung's words bite you in the ass. He's right though. “We met this group of girls and–I didn't want him to focus on me only. I want him to have fun.”

Okay, that's half of the truth but it works. You did more for yourself than for Jungkook, naively believing that it will be better for him. But that backfired and it seems he doesn't feel like it's better for him.

“And didn't it get through your pretty head that maybe, just maybe, he wants to have fun with you?”

“Tae–” you sigh.

“Not that kind,” You can tell he has rolled his eyes. “He just wanted you two to have fun in there. I'm pretty sure he didn't think with his dick when he wanted you to go.”

“I didn't say that.”

“I know, I'm just saying.” he hums, “Maybe he feels rejected?”

“What? You think so?”

“I think Jungkook has had a lot planned for the two of you and he imagined he would spend it with you. Not with both of you having fun with someone else, instead with each other.”

“I thought it's better this way.” you mumble.

Silence follows and you're not sure whether Taehyung heard or not, but you hear his soft sigh on the other end. “You do your thing tomorrow and he will do his. Or just spend the afternoon the way you wanted, just with each other.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is.”

“Tae, we were invited. I was asked for lunch–or dinner–whatever.”

“So? Fuck anyone else,” There it is. “Anyway, is the girl hot?”

“What.”

Taehyung laughs, “The girl that so seemingly goes after our Jungkookie.”

“I never said she's going after him.”

“You didn't have to, babe. It's clearer than Jimin's questionable choice of a girlfriend.”

“You're being rude, leave Jimin and his girlfriend alone.”

He snorts, laughing as you join. “I would ask you to send me pictures of the girls, but I kinda don't want to. I would regret not being there.”

“Can you not think with your dick when your friend here is in crisis?” you mutter.

“You got yourself there, hun.”

“You're not helping.” you grit through your teeth, hearing him laugh.

“Look, just talk to him. You guys communicate well. Well–it's bumpy these days but you got it.”

“How's your leg?” you ask instead, listening to Taehyung's complaints while your mind is elsewhere.

When Jungkook doesn't come within an hour, you're seriously starting to get worried. He has left in a hurry, therefore has forgotten his phone that mockingly sits on one of the small tables. Even though he's a man, you're worried for his safety no matter how safe this Island seems to be.

Just as you're about to grab your things and go search for him, the door clicks open and there he is.

Head low and almost looking like a kicked puppy, you debate whether to jump on him to hug him or slap him for making you so worried. If the roles were reversed, there's no doubt that he would search the entire Island for you. And that's not exaggerating at all.

Yet, you stand there – waiting for him to look up and be stopped by the glare you're giving him across the room.

“Where the hell have you been?”

You're angry. More at yourself than anyone else, but him scaring the shit out of you comes handy at the moment.

You know that defeated look. You both hate fighting. It's crazy you've never been through such hard times in terms of fighting than you have in the past year. Sure, looking at it optimistically, you've learned to communicate better. Sometimes.

Not particularly now. And you know some of it is mostly your fault now.

Being honest means much more than just that.

However that once mentioned defeated look is long gone. As soon as that tone and words leave your mouth, he glares at you with those intense dark eyes.

It doesn't matter that you sound like a mother scolding his son for coming home late.

“I went for a walk.” he says calmly, but there's something on the tip of his tongue. And his face says it all. I told you that.

You scoff. Before anything else can be said, he simply walks past you and you watch at the spot he just stood at in complete disbelief.

“That's it?”

“What else do you want me to say?” he offers, giving you I don't give a fuck attitude as he plops on the couch and stretches his legs on top of the table.

He grabs his phone and scrolls down through his notifications. He must know he forgot it here. There's no way he doesn't know now. But there's no sight of realization or anything. He simply seems like he doesn't care.

Not about that and certainly not about you stomping to the room.

“Are you serious now?”

He looks up from his phone, moving only with his eyes and you're stunned for a second. He's waiting.

“If I stormed out like that, you would give me hell for it!” you scold him.

“I told you I went for a walk. We both needed to cool off.”

You fumble over your words and try to make sense of them.

His eyes say it all. It looks like you haven't.

“Yeah, without your phone and you were gone for an hour!”

You watch him stare at you for a moment, sighing as he tosses his phone on the couch. “I'm sorry.”

The surprise on your face is evident.

“I forgot it. Didn't realize I was gone for so long.”

Well, an hour isn't so long but yeah, it felt like it. Especially the way he left.

You relax, a soft puff of breath leaving your lips before you nibble onto them with your teeth. You come closer, your knee resting against the armrest.

“I will cancel on Gabriel.”

He frowns, almost confused why would you do that. For a split second you feel embarrassed.

“So we can spend more time together.” you elaborate further.

“You don't have to do that out of pity or whatever.” he points out.

This is stupid. You're stupid.

“I'm not doing it out of–”

“Besides, I have a few plans throughout our stay here. Starting from tomorrow.”

“What,” you deadpan, hating the weird pressure and intuition that rises every second until he proves it right.

“I arranged it with Nara.”

It's dead silence for a moment. You're letting the information sink in until you breathe out in even bigger disbelief.

“What,” It's quiet, almost painful before you glance at his phone. “Your phone stayed here.”

“Met her during my walk.”

Oh, and she so accidentally appeared right where you were, huh?

He's not looking at you, staring at nothing in particular with a distant gaze.

“So let me get this straight–” You hold yourself together so you don't burst in anger. “You make a scene for not spending this vacation together and now you just make plans throughout it without me?”

You realize it's mostly said from your point of view and you fucked up, but him accepting it is even more defeating than anything else about this.

“As far as I know, you made plans too. Isn't this a good way of meeting new people?”

He's throwing it back at you. Clenching your jaw, you painfully swallow as you nod. “I see,” you mock his words, “You're right.”

And you walk out of the room – not knowing whether you should strangle him or yourself first. Only time can tell.

It's safe to say that sometimes your intention escalates and creates a new wave of something that can hardly be described positively. A part of you blames yourself for opening your mouth, even though your own intention behind it was not wrong. It wasn't supposed to cause any of this.

Already embarrassing as it is, having to lay next to Jungkook throughout the entire night has been another level. You've been tossing around, wondering if he's doing the same whenever you fall asleep for a few minutes until you're awake again. Seems like he's not particularly doing bad, but once again, there's an argument between you that has been maybe talked about, but definitely not solved.

You stick to your plans that have been planned out for most of the day. You've gone sightseeing, fed rescued animals and even visited local museums. Basically, done activities where other people mostly talked and you both listened – you were just there. Standing next to each other, walking beside each other but if it wasn't for these facts, some might think you were strangers.

And that thought that randomly crossed your mind hurt.

But you're just as stubborn.

This is for the better. Sure, you should probably make a mend, it would definitely make things easier and better. But you will try to focus on other people as well. Being with Jungkook alone on this vacation – well, it's not like you have many opportunities to focus on anything else.

But that could change. And it can change.

It's for the best. You both got distracted. Preferably with each other.

So when the time comes, you both end up at the beach nearby the beach house you're staying at. However, this time it's for you to get separated and each go your own way. Gabriel's friends are already there, wearing their swimsuits and covering it with thin layers of clothing. And then there's Gabriel as well.

You texted him, agreeing to the dinner but proposed to meet sooner. The truth is, you couldn't be alone at the house knowing where Jungkook is. It would eat you alive to be alone with your thoughts of blame and regret.

You have no idea where you will be going, perhaps more sight-seeing but you hope Gabriel has something planned out at the last minute. Sight-seeing reminds you of Jungkook as well, since you've spent your entire morning until midday.

You have not spoken ever since you came back. You both showered and changed clothes, here you are. Perhaps you've spent more time on your make-up. Your skin is glowing, covering everything that is laying beneath much deeper.

Summer dress with slightly low cut cleavage felt like the right choice. It's perfect for day time, could be great for night time as well and most importantly, you're not trying to look overly hot. This dress is practical.

And you have no idea what's up with men and summer dresses because you feel like you attract men's eyes as soon as they can make out your figure. Gabriel is speechless, though he's grinning and doesn't fail to give you a compliment.

Before you know it, Jungkook and Gabriel's friends bid you two a goodbye. Well – mostly Gabriel's friends because Jungkook is awfully quiet and doesn't even spare you a glance as he chats with Nara.

Jaw clenched, you turn around and smile widely at Gabriel. “So what's the plan?”

“Mm, don't kill me but I thought we could get a snack or something, wait–have you eaten?”

“I have,”

During lunch time with Jungkook. No matter how intense it seems to be between you, he still made sure you've eaten something. It's hard to be mad at him. But one memory of what happened just seconds ago is enough to make your features harden, just like your heart does.

“Have you?”

“I have,” he answers, “Cool, we can go to that dinner I promised you.”

You give him a slight chuckle, both of you walking nowhere specific.

“But maybe we could go to the water park as well?”

“What,” you stop, chuckling nervously. The whole point of going out was not to be in Jungkook's presence. “The others just left.” You point behind you, pretty sure they are no longer there.

“I kinda hoped we would go there alone.”

You give him a look, causing him to grin as he shakes his head. “Nothing creepy, I swear. Is it bad that I want you all for myself?”

“You will give me creeps if you continue to speak to me like that.”

He grabs his chest, pretending it hurts there. “Ouch. Is it always so hard to charm you?”

You look away, shrugging. “Not always.”

At least you didn't lie.

Best way to distract yourself is to do something. Anything that can't help you from thinking, or even overthinking. You give Gabriel that. Even though he has no idea he indirectly helped you and made your day better, attractions are a good way to just enjoy the presence. You allow yourself and your mind to be present with him.

You laugh and nicely enough, Gabriel is sweet and keeps his hands to each other. He doesn't give you creepy vibes – you're not sure if you wanted him to. He's polite, gentleman and funny. Everything anyone would like to see in a guy you're spending time with.

You talk, filling almost every second and moment with words. And yet, still somewhere rooted inside you, you keep looking around, hoping you won't meet Jungkook. Possibly see something you don't want to. You want him to have fun.

But deep inside you feel like you've pushed him to do this. It's stupid. You proposed something. You never forced him to do anything. But just because it hasn't been done directly, doesn't mean the outcome is not the same.

And you do it again. So you go to the first attraction you see, the water ride. You take Gabriel's hand, pulling him towards it until you're seated and drenched in water. After you're done, you both laugh at each other's appearance.

“I wonder if they sell towels here.” Gabriel says, praising himself for wearing slippers instead of actual shoes. His shirt is drenched, showing some of his abs. But you're respectful, you're not looking.

“It's hot, we'll be dry in thirty minutes.” you laugh, squeezing more water from the rim of your dress. It falls down your legs.

“True–how about–”

“Gab? What are you guys doing here?”

Coming from the side, you both glance at the way where one of the girls walks with the entire group of Gabriel's friends behind her. Great.

All you hear is Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook. He must be around here but you don't dare to let your eyes travel further.

“We wanted to try some of the attractions too.” Gabriel answers as if it's not a big deal.

Although he's met with some confused looks from his friends, they're not overly judgy and you get them. None of you mentioned going here before.

“You could've gone with us. Oh god, did you guys just go on this ride? We went there first, you should've seen us! Actually–Nara and Jungkook just went there like ten minutes ago and–” She starts looking behind her, pointing in that direction but she doesn't have to.

Your eyes naturally find him there. Walking, unbuttoned shirt that is drenched similarly to your dress. The difference is that you can see his skin, a few droplets here and there as the sun shines on his tanned skin.

“We did–I wanted Y/N for myself, is that so bad?”

And that's when Jungkook looks up, undoubtedly catching Gabriel's words and your stare as well. Seconds pass by and someone keeps talking, but you don't pay attention. Jungkook's eyes travel down your figure before a slight frown settles on his face.

Looking down, and you hate that you do, you follow his line of vision. The outline of your breasts is visible, nowhere near explicit to the point where anything is visibly clear, but even the slightest perks of your hardened nipples can be noticeable if one truly looks there. This dress doesn't require a bra, the material around that area is thick enough.

When you were picking this dress, you weren't counting on getting it wet by any means.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Jungkook stares directly at you this time. Something about his gaze is so intense that you're not sure whether you're naturally nervous or aroused. Fuck.

“We were just about to get frozen yogurt, you guys wanna join? We'll leave you alone, I promise.” Matt, one of their friends jokes, causing all of them to chuckle just to tease Gabriel.

Gabriel is not a shy person. He rolls his eyes playfully at them, ignoring them right after before he looks down at you. He's taller than you, not as tall as the man who stands across you and you feel his eyes on you. It burns.

“What do you say? Frozen yogurt?”

Frozen yogurt is the least of your worries right now. The right thing would be to refuse and come up with some kind of excuse, maybe trying the good old I wanna try more attractions. Just so you could finally escape the burning gaze that is ten times hotter than the sun above your heads.

But the annoyance that slowly simmers inside you, followed by Jungkook's unpleasant face, changes your mind. Lips stretching into a wide smile, making sure Jungkook sees it and hears you loud and clear.

“Sure, frozen yogurt sounds great.” Delightful, you want to say.

The others cheer, clearly happy to have Gabriel join them. You see Matt throwing his arm around Gabriel's shoulders, teasing him, undeniably about you as Gabriel shakes his head and with laughter pushes him away.

“You havin' fun?”

Jungkook walks next to you, looking ahead and not giving you one last glance. His jaw is clenched and you smile, amused and pleased even.

“Are you?”

“Wonderful,” he mutters.

“Good.”

Scoffing, you open your mouth but before any remark can make it out of your mouth, a woosh of coldness and pressure causes you to stop in your tracks. Most of it is blocked by Jungkook whom you manage to see turning his back, facing you while he shields you from the impact before your eyes are forced to shut.

The nearby attraction has splashed you, a few more people being a victim of it as they either laugh, curse or freeze in shock. Even your newfound friends who have managed to avoid the splash, gasp in surprise as they stare at the two of you.

You're fully drenched, every inch of you covered in water as you can feel it drip down your dress. So much for being dressed nicely.

“Oh my god, are you guys okay?” Gabriel asks, walking over to you.

Though you look up at Jungkook, who stares at you before his eyes drop down to your chest. You know his stare is not an act of lust, more of acknowledgment you should make. You don't have to look. You feel it.

Your arms cover your breasts, turning to Gabriel to respond to him. However before you're able to utter a single word, you feel a soft touch of hand over your lower back.

“We have to change clothes.”

“I saw a stand with some clothes where the kids' attractions are.” Nara tries to help, pointing in the left.

Jungkook ushers you to move before you can get drenched any more than you already are. Stupidly, you let him and you hate how you enjoy his hand on you. Maybe it has something to do with Nara watching.

There are no words said as soon as you distance yourselves from the rest of the group, leaving them up to their activities while there's a suffocating air surrounding you. The burning weather has nothing to do with it this time.

You watch Jungkook pick random shirts and shorts once you get to the stand. The older man who sells it tells you that this happens pretty much often, that's why there are a lot of towels and clothes for sale. Of course, it always has a Hawaiian theme or a water park one. You let Jungkook interact with the seller while you linger behind him, offering him a soft smile in return because that's all you can do.

“There is a changing room with a restroom around the corner. It's more to the side, so it's not much crowded, in case the lady needs more privacy.” he advises nicely.

Smiling one last time, Jungkook briefly nods as he follows the man's directions and leads you to the mentioned changing room.

He forgot to mention it's a single room. You can still hear screams and laugh from the side, but it's more isolated right now. You get inside, scanning the room. It's spacious. There are hangers on the wall, a basic bin and a sink. A huge mirror is spread across the one wall, the lighting is shitty though. The light bulb weirdly glitches but there is no weird smell in here. You hate public bathrooms, especially at water parks.

Surprisingly, there's not much water on the floor. The man was right. There are not many people who use this changing room. You've seen a couple of them when you were walking with Gabriel, but you haven't thought much about it. It sort of makes sense now.

The door clicks behind you, causing you to look across your shoulder. “Umm, where are you going?”

Jungkook looks up, brows frowning as he grows slightly offended by the question. “To change?”

His own question holds an attitude and you just stare in bewilderment for a moment. But when he doesn't move an inch, stubbornly standing his ground, you frown as well.

“Can't you wait?”

You scoff, almost laughing how childish this situation is. When Jungkook is mad, he can get slightly childish or let you feel all the nice things he does for people, until he stops it just to get petty. Not that you can't complain. You do the same things.

However, you use your mouth much more than he does. He's more subtle with it.

“I was here first.”

It's childish, you know it, yet you still point out when you're not sure how to react in the first place. Jungkook laughs under his breath.

“I wanna get out of these clothes as much as you do. Let's turn around and not look at each other.” he proposes, thinking that's the problem.

Little does he know you could care less if he sees you naked or whatever. You hate the way the water drips down his body, the ends of his hair picking up all the water until it slowly drops and it does the same thing seconds later. You hate how his tan body peeks through the opened button-up.

He's here. Yet it seems like he's never been further since you came to Hawaii.

All of this is stupid. You've been through much worse back home and you were able to make up.

But there's a lot of stubbornness and until you get there, you'll have to get through this somehow.

“You think that's the problem?” you question, seeing him giving you a confused look as he starts taking off his button-up.

He turns around to the sink, squeezing any water access he can from it. You don't move. You just shamelessly stare as he completely unbothered continues to do what he came here to do.

How dare he? Your self-consciousness mocks you.

“And what's the problem here exactly?”

He doesn't even spare you a glance, continuing to squeeze his completely scrunched up shirt.

“Are you seriously asking that?”

“I asked, didn't I?”

You scoff, ready to pounce on him. Not the good kind.

“There's a thing that's called space.”

The double meaning sits in the air, yet he doesn't look perplexed by it. For all you know, he doesn't even notice it as he bluntly continues his task. It pisses you off.

“There's enough space between us.” he simply says.

Your chest squeezes, causing you to purse your lips for a second as you breathe out. “You can't be serious right now.”

“I'm not even looking at you,” he scoffs, “I'll just change my clothes and I'm out of here. If you wanna just stand there and wait, you're free to do that.”

The audacity of this man is beyond the words. Is this how payback feels like?

“Oh, got it. You're eager to get out of here.” So you can get back to Nara, you want to add but decide not to. You would sound like a jealous bitch.

Somehow, Jungkook seems to get the hidden meaning behind it, almost as if he could hear your thoughts from out here. He chuckles, it's just the amused look he gives you that barely lasts a second, but it leaves you breathless and all exposed.

The dress clings to your skin, you want nothing more than to take it off. You don't dare to move though.

“May I remind you it's you who wanted me so eagerly to be out there?”

It's like you speak in riddles, yet you both know the exact meaning of them. You both don't dare to say it out loud.

Getting tired of it, but mostly letting out the anger that you mainly hold for yourself, but for the man in front of you as well, you take an angry inhale of breath.

“What exactly is it that you want, Y/N?” His voice rings loudly in your head, even though there's nothing loud about his tone.

Shakingly breathing out, you quietly point out; “You can't be fucking your best friend, Jungkook.”

The emphasis on your relationship is clear, though all Jungkook does is chuckle under his breath, scoffing. He throws his shirt into the sink, walking up to you. Your breath catches, though you can't almost anticipate once he's close to you. He stops, just centimeters from touching you. You can smell his faded cologne sticking to his skin and you almost crumble.

“What if I wanted to?”

“Jungkook–”

“You always make a decision without talking to me. It is yours, I respect it,” He stops for a brief moment. He stares your face up and down. “What exactly are you so scared of?”

And the fear comes rushing to you, mainly located in your chest as your hands flinch to squeeze it. You remain standing there, not being able to look him in the eyes. His eyes are on you, you feel every inch of them, the proximity they shine.

“This is ridiculous.” You try to move past him but he stops you.

“It is,” he agrees, “Is this about sex?”

“It's not just about that!” you argue, voice hushed and almost scandalized that you're having this conversation in public. You only hope there's no one standing outside, able to hear you.

You heard Jungkook locking the door, but still – there might be people waiting.

“I know you,” he says silently but clearly. “I know there's something going on inside that pretty head of yours that you're not telling me.”

“Stop.”

“Are you in love with me?”

You gasp, “What? No!” you push him, palms against his chest but he holds you by your wrist, amused by your sudden outburst.

“So why are you so adamant on pushing me away? All of a sudden, may I add?”

He's asking all the right questions and you despise it at the moment.

“You can't be fucking me forever, Jungkook. It must've ended at some point.”

“Oh–and you just decided on it without talking to me?” he scoffs, “You just randomly pushed me onto some random chick.”

“If I remember, you're willingly spending your free time with this random chick.”

He grins, though there's nothing genuine about it. It's fueled with cockiness.

You might realize there's more to Jungkook's reaction. You suddenly start to understand why he's maybe hurt by your sudden twist of emotions. While you never came out of the wrong place, at least your intentions never did, you might understand what his problem is.

He expected you to communicate with him about it. He might be right about that, but you also had your own reasons and yes, maybe you fucked up and it didn't go as planned, but you won't take the blame for all of it.

It's hard to focus on it though, especially when there's unspoken annoyance and anger dancing around you two.

“It was your suggestion.” he states matter-of-factly.

One, you regret.

He lets go of your wrists, but not before rubbing it softly with his thumbs. It's a minor detail, one you almost don't notice but it would be a total shame if you would.

“With a good intention.”

“And what's the intention?” he asks right away, tone slightly more defensive. “Huh?”

You open your mouth but nothing comes out of it.

Exactly – Jungkook's face says it all.

“To push me away? Because you're too scared to communicate?”

Jungkook's annoyance comes mostly out of this. You've used to communicate and talk about everything. And that brings you to the point. Things have changed. There are minor details, perhaps even more minor than Jungkook's faint touch of affection he gave to your wrists just now. But in these kinds of situations you can perfectly see them.

Does he not see it?

“Fine,” you spit out, “You want me to communicate? I will.”

“About time!” he exclaims.

“I want you to meet new people. Be open to meeting new people.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” he grimaces.

“You can't be open to meeting someone when you're fucking me the entire time!” you exclaim back, chest heaving as he looks taken back.

That's all gone as his brows furrow. “That's not your decision to make. When I'm ready to meet someone, I will.”

“That's not what I meant–”

“Really? Because that's all I could gather. If I wanted to be single for years, I easily could and that has nothing to do with you.”

Ouch.

“I know–”

“Do you?” he asks. “Because to me it seems like you don't get it. If you didn't wanna have sex with me so badly, you could've just easily called it off. For the hundredth time anyway.” he mocks the last part.

That's where you gasp and come up to him, invading his space. He doesn't seem to mind.

“But you wanted it, didn't you?”

He taunts you, even though you're in his face, looking angry as ever – he remains calm and has all the control.

“A part of you still wants it. That's why you can't see me with Nara–”

“That's not about her.”

“Is it not?”

“No. I told you to meet people. That's all I wanted, don't you remember?”

He scans you for a moment. “So we're at this point where we can fuck whoever we want?”

Fuck. You did not expect him to ask this. Nor did you expect to get to this point. You led him to it. You are the reason why he's asking this. You don't blame yourself for this, it's a simple fact. It will happen sooner or later.

So why the fuck there's an answer caught in your throat?

“Do you want that?” he continues. “I promised you we would go here as friends. No sex. Anything.”

Your throat feels dry, painfully dry that it even hurts to swallow. There's nowhere to escape. There's an imaginary spotlight set on you, Jungkook's determined gaze making up for it.

“We agreed to come here as friends.”

“That's not what I'm asking.” His response comes quickly.

He stares at you, searching your face for something unknown and you shift under his gaze, causing your own eyes to trail somewhere else. You can't hold eye contact. He waits. But when he doesn't get anything in return, he simply scoffs or chuckles under his breath – you can't tell – and takes a few steps away from you.

His shorts go next, he takes them off and tries to squeeze any excess water.

“I just wanted you to–I thought it would be a good opportunity for you to meet someone new. It wasn't supposed to come out as pushy or anything.” you murmur gently under your breath.

He stops for a brief moment, not moving. “How about talking to me next time, yeah?”

You nod, though you're not sure if he sees it. He's not even looking at you. Brows pinched in together, you watch him continue with his task.

“Noted.” You drop your head low.

“If you want to fuck someone else so badly, just tell me.”

“That's not–” Your reaction comes fast. Eyes wide and mouth open, you shake your head. “You think–”

“Don't you?” he almost accuses you.

“You think I–” You make air quotes with your fingers, “pushed Nara on you because I wanna fuck someone else?”

“I no longer know what I think.”

“If I wanted to do that, I would.” You assure him, comically using the same words he has used not that long ago. It's the truth.

“Good to know.”

“Good,” you exclaim. “I guess we can both agree that we're capable of doing what we want.”

“Are we?”

Your mouth slightly opens. “Huh?”

“Are we capable of doing what we want?”

The shorts join his scrunched up shirt in the sink, knowing Jungkook will wash the hell out of it once he gets back. He loves to do his laundry. But that's besides the point.

What matters is how Jungkook inches closer to you, his eyes eating you up and noticing you haven't shredded a single piece of clothing. You catch a glimpse of your face in the mirror. Your pupils wide, an expectation screaming out of them while your skin remains wet. Trails of water trailing down between your breasts.

He follows it before his eyes slowly go up until they meet yours.

“Perhaps it's a curse or talent, but one look at you and I can already tell where your mind's at.”

He doesn't make you feel pathetic. He simply comments but finds some sort of enjoyment in it. The male's ego is never truly gone and you wish you could crash it, verbally using your mouth as you're good at it. It doesn't matter that his implication is true – it doesn't matter you both know it. You would fight and argue, just to compete his ego with your own.

It seems like you're not able to this time.

“Yeah? And where's your mind at?” you try to sound unbothered, but the way your chest slowly starts to heave up completely betrays you.

“At the same exact place where yours is. Unlike you, I'm not ashamed to say it out loud.”

He backs you to the counter, nowhere near touching you – yet he does it with a single stare and has you exactly where he wants you. The tip of your toes almost touch, his figure hovering over yours.

Gulping, you try to play it cool. “Go on then. Tell me.”

He chuckles, it's soft but holds amused darkness that's wrapped around his cords. “If you insist.”

You don't. But you play into this fake illusion of not knowing what he's talking about. Just a pure excuse to try and prove him otherwise. To be honest, you might be curious about what he has to say. Jungkook has a good judgment for a character – when it comes to you. That obviously does not apply to his exes.

“I'm supposed to be somewhere else, physically and mentally, but here I am thinking of different ways of having you.”

You stop yourself just in time not to gasp out loud, showing him a vocal reaction other than your heart picking up its pace just at the single thought of it. Let alone having to hear him confess that.

Clearing your throat, you try to straighten your posture but end up brushing against his chest. You do your best at ignoring it, staring him straight in the eyes. “And that's what I want?”

Don't lie to yourself, the little devil of your consciousness ironically laughs. Of course you know all of this, you just have this urge to prove him otherwise and crush that confidence he has within himself.

“Please, you're already salivating just from the thought of it.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you argue: “No, I am not.”

“Tell me,” he cocks his head to the side. “Would you rather bend over the counter or sit on it?”

He sounds nothing but curious, not even feeding to your delusions of him being out of touch with reality. Only he is not.

“You're an idiot.” you breathe out, trying everything to sound scandalized or offended. You would be able to fool if it was anyone else. But not him.

“For speaking the truth?”

“You're saying it as if I would want that. Listen to what I'm saying.”

He chuckles, shaking his head lightly. “Words are irrelevant when your eyes practically beg me to touch you.”

You know he chose a lighter version of what he would initially say. He wants to be way more explicit, but you're both dancing on the edge.

“You think you know everything when it comes to me.” It sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth. He doesn't appear to be offended because you both know how much he truly knows you.

To bring this conversation to a different topic, he chooses to ignore it and simply smiles.

“So if I were to do this–” He lightly touches the side of your neck, wrapping his hand carefully around it. You inhale shakily, not being able to control it. “Would you tell me to stop?”

He gently massages your pulse that moves under his thumb, watching goosebumps appear on your soft skin. His hand is gone before you can blink, but is soon replaced by his fingertips tracing down your neck, past your collarbone until they stop at top of your breasts.

“Hm?”

You're not able to react. Your chest heaves, a glare fixated on him but no sound comes out of your mouth. He has you. Wrapped around his fingers, proving his point. Because of his ego and confidence, you know he's proving it to you rather than to anyone else. He can be that annoying.

Close to leaning toward his touch, the tip of his fingers play with the hem of your dress, occasionally and very faintly touch your skin. His other hand goes down, playing at the fabric of where your dress ends. It goes up, fabric gathering over his wrist. You shudder, mentally begging him to do more.

As if he could read your mind, his eyes look up without having to move his head, dark sinister spark in them. When he doesn't see you protesting, merely making sure of your current state, he does not waste a second and pulls the top hem of your dress. Revealing your breasts, he sucks in breath at the perked nipples. His hold on the dress tightens and within seconds, his mouth is wrapped around your nipple.

“Fuck.” you moan, throwing your head back as you arch into him.

He's like a starving man, perhaps he is from the stupid condition you've made up, but so are you. The other hand grasps the back of your thigh, molding his fingers into your skin as if he wants to leave as many imprints as he can.

Teeth grazing your teeth, he wraps his hand around your neck once more and makes you look at him. You just stare at each other, not an ounce of shame written on your faces. Your noses touch, your mouth already opened as small gasps similar to moans escape. You beg him to kiss you.

He doesn't.

Instead, he drops down to his knees and before you know it, his hands disappear underneath your dress and shamelessly pull down your only piece of underwear. Once that's done, he hoists up your leg over his shoulder and dives in right away. You can barely grab the edge of the sink counter and balance yourself on it, before his mouth is on you.

“Jungkook–”

You swear you hear him chuckle, but you're too distracted by the shots of pleasure he's attacking you with. He shows no mercy. Fingers wrapped in his hair, you tug onto his roots as he moans against you.

Nobody does it like you.

While that thought normally scares you, now you're fucking grateful he's the one that's between your legs.

You come embarrassingly fast, trying to keep yourself silent from moaning and embarrassingly so, you have no idea whether you've succeeded or not. Jungkook fucks you through it with his mouth, stopping just at the right time as he pulls away.

Lips swollen and red, eyes drinking you up, he effortlessly stands up. “Was this anything relatively close to where your mind was?”

It was far dirtier but there's nothing to be disappointed about. When it comes to orgasm and Jungkook, he never disappoints.

“I can't complain.” you breathe out, watching how he pulls up your dress and covers your breasts to give you at least some kind of modesty.

It's a single detail, one he never had to do and you never fully noticed – but no matter what, Jungkook always looks out for you. A blunt apology wants to come out, for numerous reasons of the misunderstanding of your own fears and good intentions, but Jungkook takes a few steps back.

“Change your clothes, I will wait outside.” he says, quickly changing his own before leaving you up to it.

You turn around, not being able to let go of the counter as you grip it harder and stare at your face. He didn't even go all the way and you look like you've had the time of your life.

Once again, you and Jungkook have succumbed to your desires and broken the only condition you've had for this vacation. It should leave you disappointed and perhaps you are little, but you're definitely satisfied for the time being.

At least until you have to walk out of the door and face the storm in the form of your best friend.

Your knees and hands have stopped buckling by the time you've changed into dry clothes. Nothing screams more than a tourist wearing an oversized shirt with a huge label saying “I love Hawaii”, an image of a red heart replacing the word love. It's something you would've worn to bed to sleep in – or at the beach to cover up the least – not parading yourself in it in public.

The sense of fashion is the last of your worries or things on your mind though.

Jungkook has waited outside of the door, guarding it safely. After his sudden leave, you did not lock the door which could be a terrible mistake if Jungkook wasn't there to make sure no one walks in. Somehow, you knew he was right behind that door.

The walk toward the rest of the group is spent in silence. As if his mouth wasn't all over your private areas. The memory of it makes an excitement bubble in your stomach, even though it should probably be at least a hint of some kind of regret.

You do not regret the act itself. Mostly, it's just you being so weak to prevent it.

Maya would surely get the baggage off your shoulders, supporting this wild decision. But she just doesn't get it.

Simple walk to find your newfound friends – or whatever you would call them – makes you miss your real friends. You wonder how things would go if they were here.

Maybe it's just your stupid naivety of believing that it would be different. No matter what, it seems you and Jungkook always find your way to each other – intimately speaking.

One thing's for sure.

Jungkook has confronted you. There's truth to both sides.

Of course the man can have anyone he points his finger at. It was your foolishness to think this vacation was the perfect chance at it. Selfishly, you might've done it more for yourself than for him.

And what if you would meet someone as well?

It would certainly make things easier. The decision would be way easier too.

Gabriel is handsome. Hot and charming. Practically the perfect package for a vacation hook-up. And as much as would be leant toward maybe kissing him at least, you can't do that when Jungkook is right there.

Once you find them, the mood is sour between you and you're not even trying to hide it. Maybe it's the lack of smile and a big portion of silence that makes them notice it. No one comments on it. In fact, you don't think it's worth being commented on.

Their positivity and good mood continues to be unaffected.

“We dodged the whole frozen yogurt, heard there are these best waffles somewhere around here with fresh fruit. Wanna go there instead?” Gabriel is the first one to ask, eyes finding your figure as soon as you approach them.

In this heat, sweet food or a snack is the least of your cravings.

“I'm actually not hungry at all,” you respond, feeling guilty for not being up for this idea.

Gabriel looks confused for a moment, certainly remembering you were all up for frozen yogurt just a few minutes ago. Like the gentleman he is, he doesn't question you but you can see the questions running inside his head.

Maybe he doesn't want to do it in front of his friends.

“The heat is killing me.” you add, trying to save it.

He nods, glancing toward the man next to you who hasn't made a move to… move. “Jungkook?”

“I already had a dessert.” he comments, shamelessly staring at the side of your face.

Eyes almost bulging out, you keep your calm and try to not react. Even though Jungkook has not worded it out weirdly to give anyone a big suspicion, it's you and your guilt that makes it think it's so obvious. You wish you could glare at him, but you know there are eyes on you.

“We stopped by the fruit stand, so we had that on our way here.” you lie, straight through your teeth and even though you could be defined as the worst liar ever, this lie comes out sweet and believable. But it's Gabriel's eyes that continue to stare and watch you like you're the biggest open book.

Fuck.

“Yeah, the fruit here tastes nice.” Jungkook continues and you do everything in your power not to smack him across that bratty mouth. Mouth you wish you could have kissed.

You give him a look, but he just cocks his brow at you. “Yeah, Jungkook came up with this idea–”

“Did I?”

You glare at him, “Anyway��sorry, I know we wanted to go there together.”

“It's fine,” Gabriel laughs, “We're still gonna get it. You guys are still going with us, right?”

“Yeah, sure!” you force yourself to smile, joining Gabriel as you feel Jungkook's burning gaze on your back.

That's until you hear Nara's voice behind you, making a casual conversation between them and diverting his attention elsewhere.

Once the sun is slowly setting down, you part ways and go back to the beach house in silence. No difference happens once you're inside, just the two of you.

The past two hours spent with people you've met here felt like a torture. That's what you at least thought until you and Jungkook continued to pass by each other as you two are getting ready. Comically enough, not to go somewhere together but with different people.

He kept his word and accepted Nara's offer to go out tonight. Whether he's doing this to piss you off or because he wants to is unknown to you. Perhaps there was a slight hope that you two would just come to an agreement to cancel and go somewhere together. Even staying inside would be enough.

Once Nara asked Jungkook if their plan is still on and Jungkook so shamelessly confirmed, all the hope left as soon as it came. Gabriel has done the same with you and there was nothing other for you to do, then to agree.

It's a pure comedy. If there was a third person just watching the two of you, they would have the time of their life. Somehow you can imagine Taehyung here, sitting on the couch as he judges you two but stays entertained throughout the entire time.

After taking a shower, you end up doing your make-up in the living room with the smallest mirror you've brought on this vacation. Your previous plan of doing it in the bathroom where there is a massive mirror has failed as soon as Jungkook uttered his need to use the shower as well.

You're not sure if he's done it on purpose, but he sure as hell took his time there. You're putting on the lipstick when he finally decides to get out of there.

Both of you stop.

He's wearing an all white – button-up with shorts that reach just above his knees. Shorts you didn't even know he owns. He looks elegant, yet casual just for the hot weather even though there's a slight darkness outside. His slicked back hair definitely helps.

Jungkook's eyes fall down on your figure. You're wearing a simple short black dress but the gold necklace and red lipstick adds a pinch of sexiness to it. None of you are overdressed or could win the outfit of the year, yet you can't keep eyes off each other.

You're the first one to break it, standing up and tidying up your make-up stuff that's all over the table, but not before raising a provocative brow at him. He scoffs as he walks past you without any word, his cologne the only thing left and lingering. Out of his sight, you close your eyes and breathe out the gathered breath in your lungs.

The two of you leave at the same time, in different directions to different people.

The restaurant where Gabriel has taken you is nice and they have a variety of food on their menu. You have a nice view of the beach and sea which adds points in your imaginary review of this place. You've got to be honest – Gabriel definitely went out his way to invite you here.

He doesn't mention his friend – Nara – not even once and while you're not sure if you want to hear the reminder of her hanging out with Jungkook at the moment, you hope you won't bump into each other. You feel bad.

You listen and talk to him, but your mind is all over the place. You should've known you won't be able to enjoy tonight if there's someone you've fought with. And with Jungkook out of all people.

At least the food is nice.

After two hours of good dinner and dessert, and a few glasses of wine, Gabriel decides to walk you back to the beach house. You're not stupid to decline it, especially at night. Before that you decide to take a quick walk down the beach.

“So, what are you saying? Was the dinner that bad?”

You give him a look, chuckling. “Did it meet your expectations of getting to know me?”

Now he's the one who laughs. “Yeah,” he nods. “Kinda makes it hard for me to go back to Italy.”

You raise your brow, smirking. “So you're saying you're not going where I go?”

He laughs at your joke, “I'm thinking of it.”

“Yeah, sure.” you laugh, “One dinner is all it took?”

“You're special.”

And you're more likely looking for a hook-up, you think. You both know there's no future to this.

“I am special?” you snicker, “Is that what you say to all the girls?”

“Is it working?” he teases.

“Nah, it takes more effort when it comes to me.”

He stops in his tracks which causes you to do the same. He stares, eyes dropping down your lips and red lights flare in your mind. Knowing what it most likely means, you quickly turn away.

“Come on, I'm so full I could fall asleep.”

Cringing at yourself, Gabriel follows and doesn't seem to be shaken up from it. He continues to talk and the mood is pretty much loosen up, which has been from the beginning. You had a good time and it went better than you expected it to.

Gabriel doesn't try to kiss you and you bid goodbye with a casual hug, both of you understanding that nothing will come out of this.

The lights are on as you open the unlocked door, meaning that Jungkook is already back. It seems like he just came as he came out of the bathroom, surprised to see you there.

“How was your date?” he asks, looking away from you in a second.

“It wasn't a date.” you clarify which makes him snicker. “What? It wasn't.”

“An Italian guy wants to make plans with you, alone. You might be right, it's not about a date at all.”

You give him an offensive look, “Are you insinuating that all I'm good for is a hook-up?”

“No, don't twist up my words.” He immediately stops your mind to go somewhere his mind doesn't even get close to. “I'm insinuating that a guy from freaking Italy suddenly shows his interest in you, when you live across the world.”

You frown, watching him reach for a glass of whiskey you haven't noticed before. He's not drunk but what he is, is confidently smirking in your face as if he knows everything. Well, he's not too far off. Gabriel wants to have fun and while he seems to be a decent human being, he's not about to move to a country to be with you. You wouldn't expect him to anyway.

“But you're right,” He purses his lips, the rim of the glass almost touching it as he lets out the tiniest chuckle that's supposed to be hidden. “He's probably wanting to marry you.”

He's provocating you. The plans have not turned out the way you both wanted to – but it is what it is. Your curiosity almost kills you and your impatient-self wants to ask him about this date, or whatever it was. This is a game, you realize.

And you won't let him have that satisfaction of you asking.

“He wanted to kiss me tonight.” you inform him.

You watch him take a sip, pursing his lips right after as you slowly watch him swallow down the hard liquor. “I'm sure he wanted to do much more.”

Is that a jealousy you hear?

No one has quite peaked your interest regarding this matter. Judging by Jungkook's confidence, he knows that.

“Next time I will let him kiss me. Maybe then he will want to marry me eventually.” You give him a false smile, stopping right beside him as he wants you with a clenched jaw.

Not giving him a chance to respond, you walk away with confident steps into the bedroom. The door closes and your back meets the wood. You can feel your heart in your neck, all the facade of confidence and peace leaves and you softly bang your head against it.

What you said was completely stupid. You don't want to kiss Gabriel. In fact, the thought of it is nowhere near as exciting as one would expect it to be. Both of you know that the second part was only said to piss him off and prove a point.

The questions are…

Will you let him kiss you next time?

Did or will Jungkook kiss someone else in here?

The ongoing battle that you're in the middle of has not ended.

Both sleeping at the very both ends, as far away from each other as possible, has been a good way to start the day. It's not like you expected to cuddle during the night.

That's not what friends do, your mind wants to say. But you've crossed that line too many times. You're not the typical friends either, that ship has sailed a long time ago.

You shouldn't have pushed him away. It's too late to take it back. For a moment you think of coming to Jungkook, apologize and somehow talk yourself out of this impossible battle you're in. You're willing to take all the blame for it.

However, that's all gone as soon as you hear Jungkook calling with who you assume is Nara, his tone sweet and sounding exciting as they make plans for today. You stand there, making yourself a coffee as you try not to listen to their ridiculous conversation. How can you not?

Jungkook sits right behind you, even if you didn't want to listen – it's impossible for you not to. He knows that. He knows you're listening. You're the one who has come in the middle of their conversation.

The call ends after a minute, your coffee ready but your mind isn't when you turn around and face the devil. You've seen him from the corner of your eyes when you entered the kitchen area, but nothing prepares you for the shirtless Jungkook. His hair isn't messy, he seems to be well put and from the looks of it, he came out of the shower not that long ago.

He cocks his brow at you, questioning your stare making your features harden. “Having a date today?”

You painfully watch the way the corner of his mouth slowly lifts up as he chuckles. “Careful, you start to sound jealous.”

“Me? Don't be ridiculous,” you scoff, “Where is she from again? Doesn't she live across the world?”

Jungkook features lighten up with pure amusement as you use his words against him. “At least I can admit this is a date.”

“I simply hung out with a guy. We never stated it's a date.” you point out, knowing it sounds silly but Gabriel just wanted to get to know you. You never officially called it a date.

Jungkook stands up, grabbing his empty plate as he gives you another one of his snickers. “Be in denial all you want.”

“You know what?” He raises his brow in question, too close to you as he reaches to put the plate into the sink. “I'm not gonna spend this morning arguing with you. If I wanted it to be a date, I would make it perfectly clear to him.”

He smiles, but there's nothing sweet about it. “A date or a chance for a hook-up. I don't see the difference.”

He does. Jungkook has always been the dating type rather than the hook-up one. Your two friends have taken that label since forever. But obviously, he's not talking about himself.

Suddenly, the air becomes thick and you stare right into his dark eyes. He's hovering over you, his scent luring you in as his eyes dance across your face. “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe again as you quickly recover. “Yeah? And what would that be?”

Jungkook grabs his phone and looks at you across his shoulder. “You should meet new people.”

Your mouth opens and you stare for a moment before you scoff, “If I wanted to date, I would already have like hundreds of boyfriends. The same goes if I was looking for a hook-up.”

“Good for you.” he calls out bitterly, leaving you in the kitchen with a fuming gaze and burning heart.

But you realize one thing. How selfish you've just sounded. Jungkook has told you the same thing.

If any of you wanted that, you could've easily done so. Yet your reason for saying it to him and what ultimately started this argument, is completely different.

Jungkook is a dick.

He has left for his date or whatever the fuck it is, and has left you alone in the house even without asking whether you have plans or not. You know your relationship right now is not at its best stage, but little consideration could not hurt. Especially since he's always been caring and considerate no matter how much your relationship has taken a different turn.

It's one of the reasons why you desperately wanted to move on. Throw your past away and come back to the friendship you've known since the beginning. It leaves you agreeing that your original intention has come from a good place.

Luckily, Gabriel seems to show interest in you, still, after the little rejection you've given him after his attempt to kiss you. He comes to you a little after you come to the beach to just lay there. He's been there with his friends since this morning – at their usual spot. Nara is nowhere in sight and much to your distaste, you know who's she with.

So once Gabriel invites you to hang out with them, you agree and would rather spend your alone time in a company of many people, than to dwell all alone about your decisions in life. He keeps you entertained and busy, away from your haunting thoughts. Until…

“Nara is with your friend. You know where they went?”

You sit at a bar, drinking lemonade in this burning weather and you're thankful for the sunglasses you're wearing, so he's not about to see the tiniest roll of your eyes. “No idea. He forgot to mention.”

In the morning which is the last time you've seen him. He just left you to be with another woman, in a foreign country. You know you can call him anytime. Even now – no matter what your relationship looks like, he would be here in a second if you called and needed him. But still – you're mad he just left without saying anything. Deep down you know that's not the only thing that irritates you.

“Nara fancies him a lot.”

So? You want to say. What are you supposed to do with this information?

“Really?” You're trying to sound surprised. But even Gabriel– who had so little time to get to know you – catches onto the tone and laughs. “It's pretty obvious.” You try to save it by simply stating.

“She did ask him to go out again today. From what I know, she was never the one who asked someone out.”

“Where does she live again?” you ask, taking a sip off a lemonade trying to quench the fire inside you.

“Spain.”

“It's not like there's any future to it.”

Gabriel stays silent and just stares, while you continuously take innocent sips. “Actually, Nara has applied for some modeling jobs in Korea.”

He's definitely not talking about North Korea, unfortunately that's unrealistic.

“Oh,”

Well, fuck. This just gave a completely different turn of event.

Considering your luck, she probably applied to your modeling agency as well. Many foreigners do. You just hope no one will mention it. Not to be a bitch, but you can imagine someone asking you to help her to get in. That's beyond your competency. But you could always mention her to Junho.

Oh my god. Jungkook has worked there too. He probably has saved your boss' number. While you think Jungkook wouldn't cross that invisible line you've set, he's always trying to help and save the day.

“Listen, how about I take you out for dinner tonight?”

That's… shocking.

After the last time you ended things, you thought he gave up. But you should've known better. It seems guys like him barely give up.

“What's else for us to do?” he chuckles, not really waiting for an answer but it still comes.

“What do you mean?”

He looks at you, reaching for his drink as his shoulders relax. “Our friends are meeting with each other almost every day.”

The taste of your non-alcoholic drinks becomes bitter on the tip of your tongue, just as much as your mood does. “As far as I know, you've got other friends here.”

“But none of them are you.”

Smooth. The little smirk you give him tells him everything. He's aware of his smooth delivery of compliments. You've got to give it to him – he knows his way around girls.

It's not like you have anything else to do. Jungkook seems to be busy and does not care what you do here anymore. And Gabriel's company is nice. If it's true what he said about Nara coming to Korea, there's a bigger chance of them making future plans together. And as much as this thought leaves the most bitter taste on your tongue, you'll leave that move for Jungkook to make.

After all, that's what you wanted for him and who are you to stand in his way.

Purposely not verbally reacting to Gabriel's flirting, you shrug and lean in your seat. “Dinner sounds perfect.”

Legs resting on top of the coffee table, Gossip Girl plays in the background as you mindlessly pop grapes in your mouth. Maybe you're silently imagining it's Jungkook whom you're crushing between your teeth.

After spending almost the full day with Gabriel and then the rest of his friends, you've come to the beach house finding it completely empty. It looks exactly where it's left off and you're embarrassed to admit that you've checked Jungkook's things to see if they've moved. And perhaps he was here. They haven't, which only meant one thing – Jungkook hasn't come here yet.

Sooner than later, the door opens and there he is.

He does not seem surprised to see you there – almost as if he knew you wouldn't be anywhere else. You give him that much satisfaction of looking at him once he arrives, acknowledging his late arrival. You hate what you do but it has its own purpose. And that is the single glare you give him.

You feel like a mother, silently scolding her child for coming home late.

He goes for a shower right away and you battle with thoughts of him, erasing the traces of possible sex on his skin. He comes back after a few minutes, wearing just his boxers with wet hair. You want to scold him for walking around like that, but that would be slightly selfish for numerous reasons. Is he torturing you on purpose?

He joins you on the couch, not questioning your choice of TV show as he knows you've previously seen it. As he sits down, you can't hold it back and just come straight to the point.

“Will you help her?”

Your gaze is focused on the TV screen, but you feel his own burning the side of your face. “Huh?”

“Nara.”

He just stares which causes you to look at him and roll your eyes at him. “She applied for modeling agencies in Korea.”

“Korea is huge,” he says after a moment. “And how do you even know that?”

“Gabriel told me.” You try to not sound too proud.

“When?” he asks confusingly. “She told me just today.”

He's questioning if you've known this information sooner but never told him.

This time you inform him with a smug face. “He told me today as well.”

The revelation that you haven't spent your day here alone is out. He is unreadable. He just watches you, almost as if he wants to make sure you're not making this up. Too bad for him. You're not making anything up and this time you're not too shy to show how proud you are for it.

“What? You thought I was here all alone while you went on a date?”

It's a purposeful jab, one that leads to nothing but disaster but you don't care. You're mad and annoyed. And now he knows why. Yet he doesn't make any effort to make an excuse for himself.

“You brought him here?”

First of all – you're not sure what would be so bad about it, even if you brought him here. But then it clicks. Jungkook has his own assumptions and bringing a guy here, while you're all alone could mean different things. Your skin is moisturized and you smell like your shower gel, which means you've left the shower not that long ago.

Perhaps it could be considered as disrespectful if you indeed brought him into a house, Jungkook rented and is a space for you two. You could understand that.

If the roles were reversed and you found out he brought Nara here – well… the thought of it doesn't sit well with you. But what does, when it comes to her?

“No, he asked me out after you so kindly left me here to go on your stupid date.” you huff out, standing up and forgetting about your TV show. The controller is tossed on the couch as you leave without looking at him.

Your steps lead to the bathroom where there's a slight trace of foggy mirror left after Jungkook's shower. Mentally groaning at the scent of him dominating in the room, you reach toward the sink faucet in a desperate need to freshen up your burning face.

You don't get to turn the water on as Jungkook is in your tracks, a burning gaze aimed at you. “You seemed to have solved it pretty quickly.”

Realizing he meant your accusation of leaving you to go on a date, you scoff.

“I wasn't about to sit here and sulk, waiting like a dog for you. If that's what you were planning for me to do.”

“I wasn't planning that,” he states, even though he wants to be just as mad for some reason. “I wasn't planning on being out until now.”

“Well, you were!” you exclaim.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry? Is that all you've got to say?”

He leans against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest. “What am I supposed to say?”

“You know what? Nothing. Say nothing.” you fume, forgetting your dumb purpose in the bathroom anyway as you rush to get past him. But as soon as you get close, his hand around your wrist stops you.

The touch is electrifying, sadly not in an awful way and you hate how your body reacts to him naturally. “Did you at least have fun?” you scoff.

“Would you be mad if I said I did?”

You almost cry, like a child but the anger inside you is bigger than anything else and you shake his hold on you. “And did you have fun?”

“Lots of it.” you spit the words at him.

You both stare into each other's eyes, the anger screaming out of them and yet the question you want to ask is unspoken.

“Good.”

“Goodnight Jungkook.” you murmur, walking away and quickening up the pace before you can do something you really want to, but would regret later.

One would think that after yesterday's exchange of pitiful words, you two would have solved it or at least tried to voice the problem here. It seems there is not enough pity and when the two of you want to, you could be the biggest pity bitches.

“Milk?”

Side-eyed look toward Jungkook, having two bowls of cereal ready and awaiting your answer. “I can make myself breakfast.”

“Milk?” he asks through his teeth, causing you to roll your eyes behind his back as you sit down.

“Yes.”

Whether this is his way of saying sorry for yesterday or not is unknown and you're not about to investigate it. You mutter a silent thank you once the bowl is set in front of you and you two dig into your breakfast without any other sort of conversation.

The rest of the morning goes like this. One word communication which seems almost like a challenge. Phones are your best friend but both of you are stubborn to talk. You swim in the pool for the first time since you're here, enjoying the sun warming your skin as Jungkook goes for his morning jog and comes back an hour later.

You're playing quiet house, so it seems.

As the day goes, it's more than clear that both of you have plans tonight. Separate plans.

Jungkook's phone goes off and he goes inside to take the call, after joining you in the pool. Trying to keep your nerves to yourself, you've had to endure his presence (lack of clothed presence). You went to rest on a beach chair while he swam. PAIN.

It's close to dinner time and you both get ready. Unlike Jungkook, you spend more time in the bathroom to do your hair and make-up, which he so “kindly” reminds you every time he wants to take a shower or goes to grab something there.

The air is thick and it has nothing to do with the scent of hairspray and your fragrance.

None of you ask what's your plan for tonight. But both of you can tell. No details though.

“You done here?”

You stop in the middle of putting your lipstick on as you give him a look, “Does it look like it?”

Ignoring the attitude in your tone, Jungkook comes up to the mirror and by doing that, he moves you to the side. He almost causes the lipstick to meet your cheek and you can tell, you almost see a smirk curling his lips.

“Don't look at me like that. You've been here for a long time.” he says without sparing you a glance.

While you watch from the side with an open mouth and disbelief written on your face, he easily grabs his hair gel and starts doing his own hair. You fume, snatching your make-up bag and stomping away to finish what you haven't had the chance to – thanks to Jungkook.

By the time you're done, Jungkook has left without saying another word. You haven't even heard him leaving and you feel pathetic as you search him around the house, all while trying to look for something. Turns out there's no one here and he has left. First and again.

Luckily, Gabriel texts you not that long after and proposes a short walk. He doesn't want to reveal the restaurant location but he had to make a reservation, which already sounds fancy as it is. You're hungry and considering you're not in your best state, still fuming, you decide not to complain. First of all, it's not polite at all.

Gabriel is trying and just because you're in a mood to be a bitch, doesn't mean he's the one who deserves it. At least there's some sort of self-reflection happening.

And two, maybe it's a good idea to walk around a bit to come to different thoughts. Plus, you will eat more by the time you arrive at the restaurant.

He has cleaned up nicely, catching female eyes as you walk around for a few minutes. The walk has been short, just enough to make a casual conversation until you arrive.

The restaurant is located on a pier, waiters all wearing fancy white shirts and slacks – a difference from all the shirts with Hawaiian motifs and skin showing.

As you're led to your table, you notice there's not a single table free and tonight it's fully packed.

“What is this place?” you ask as soon as the waiter hands you menus and leaves after.

“It's the most famous restaurant on this island.”

Your mouth opens and then it closes again. “Are you insane?”

He laughs, staring at you fondly as if you haven't been too bold with your words. “This is what I like about you.”

“What,”

“Your honesty,” he hums, “It's refreshing. You don't try to woo me.”

“Why would I woo you?” you ask, genuinely curious but again, it comes out a little bluntly which causes him to laugh again.

“Ouch,” he jokes, holding his chest as you stare at him across the table. “You're in this world to punish men for their overly huge egos.”

You purse your lips, “I'm not in this world for men, first of all.”

“Technically, you are thanks to one.”

Your nose scrunches up which causes him to laugh again. “That's besides the point.”

“So is there anyone who's been trying to woo you instead?”

“Besides you, no. Not at the moment.”

He cracks another laughter, “Touché. I deserved that.”

Giggling, you shake your head at your conversation.

“So tell me–” His words drift away because in the midst of your laughter, you spot someone entering your line of vision.

The world could not be any more cruel at the moment. There they are.

Jungkook and Nara enter the pier as they're seated by the waiter, just like you were minutes ago. Jungkook, the gentleman he is, pulls out the chair for her as she giggles with a bright smile. Clearly wooed herself by the sweet gesture.

“You've got to be kidding me.” you mutter so silently, that you're sure Gabriel can't make the words out but it's enough to silence him as he follows your gaze.

He turns around and lets out a surprised, but light sound.

“Oh, I guess me and your friend think alike.”

You try hard not to make a sour expression as you clear your throat. “Let's not interrupt them. What were you saying?”

“Is there someone waiting for you? Back in Seoul?”

“I told you, I'm single.” you chuckle.

“I know, but that doesn't mean there's not someone who's ready to fight for you.”

Your fingers stop clicking and you gulp.

“So you're telling me there's no one in your life? Not even recently?”

It's like he can see there's something on your mind. You decide to come up with half of the truth. It's not like you'll see him again.

“There–It wasn't a relationship, more like a relationship of convenience–”

“So, a hook-up partner, right?”

Lips in a straight line, you hum in confirmation. “Yeah, whatever. We ended it, so it felt like a good decision to come here and just relax. Come to different thoughts.”

Cominically enough, you came here with a person you're currently talking about. The one who's sitting just a few tables from you two.

God, you sound so stupid. Of course, you're not telling Gabriel the whole truth. The purpose of coming here with Jungkook was to enjoy it, strengthen your friendship – the previous one you've had. You had an agreement.

Somehow, you end up arguing thanks to you and it gets all twisted.

“Well, I know you were supposed to come here with your friends. So I understand why you would do that.”

“It's not just because of that. We were planning this for months. It was supposed to be a friends' vacation.”

He hums in understanding and doesn't get the opportunity to speak, as the waiter comes back and asks for your order. After you've ordered your meal, Gabriel leans back and studies you for a short moment. Just before you're about to ask about his lingering gaze and its purpose behind it, he speaks.

“You're not really looking for a relationship, are you?”

Your brows shoot up at the unexpected question. For a while, you're not sure how to answer and your face says it all. In the end, you shrug and voice your confusion. “What's with the sudden question?”

“I apologize,” he smiles, “I had to voice my curiosity and I wonder if I was right.”

You lean back, fingers clicking against the table. “I'm not against it. If it comes, I welcome it.”

“Hm,” he hums. “So no hard break-up?”

“Why do you think so?”

“I don't know, there's just something about you that I can't seem to crack.”

“Sometimes some things aren't meant to be cracked.” you tell him, making him smile at the possible truth.

“Sometimes,” he agrees. “I'm sorry if I seem to be nosy.”

“No, it's okay. Trust me, I win when it comes to curiosity.” you admit with a silent laugh.

“I travel a lot, so I don't really have enough time to properly date. No woman wants a man who's ten months out of the country out of the year.”

“What do you do again?”

“Content creator.”

“Oh, so you're an influencer?”

He laughs, “Not really. I do write for a traveling blog.”

“Maybe you'll find someone you can date and travel with.”

“Unfortunately, you don't seem that kind of person.”

You laugh, “I do enjoy Seoul. It's home by now.”

It doesn't take a genius to realize that the only contact he gets through women is mostly by hooking-up. Though, by the look of it it seems that maybe he's longing for something more stable and serious.

“You know, this time I'm here for a good vacation. No work. No writing.”

“That's great. I'm assuming all that traveling is tiring.”

“It is. I enjoy it and I love my job. But I came here to maybe come to new thoughts.” he explains.

The waiter brings you your food shortly after. There's no awkward silence during eating, you keep a slightly lighter conversation as Gabriel remains nothing but a gentleman. You would lie if you said you're purposely focusing your gaze on the plate, rather than on Gabriel fearing your eyes would wander somewhere they should not.

You don't care. Maybe they noticed you and clearly decided not to interrupt you as well. Or maybe there's still that awkward awaiting of them noticing. Sipping on a drink, in a hope it will bring you to different thoughts and help you relax a little bit more.

The reason for your slight discomfort doesn't need to be named.

“You assumed, I've been through a break-up. Why?” you ask, curious as he seems taken back.

“I asked more than assumed,” he corrects. You don't seem to be buying that statement but remain silent. “At first I thought you're not interested in me, particularly. But I get a feeling you're just not interested in general.”

“Why's that?”

Yes. He might be right. You're not necessarily trying to search for someone. But you don't get a feeling as if you were against it.

“Let me be bold here.”

“Please.” you encourage him.

“There are men who can't keep their eyes off you. And I simply noticed by spending time with you.”

You give him a doubtful look which he quickly disregards by shaking his head.

“Men are men.” you simply tell him.

He makes a disapproving sound. “There are hundreds of women at the beach, but the majority of them stare at you.”

“Okay, now you're just giving me a compliment.”

“I am not,” he laughs gently, “I could but I guess it is a compliment when there are men thirsting over you.”

“Like I said. Men are men. They're thirsting over anything that wears a bikini.”

“That–can be true. But my point still stands.”

You clear your throat, “Okay. Maybe I'm not completely in a place where I'm searching for a relationship. I never hid that.”

“Of course. But that's why I just tried to prove my point why I think you're not interested.”

You stay silent for a second. He's technically a stranger but it seems as if you were having this conversation with a friend. You don't feel uncomfortable and there's no need for you to get defensive over this topic. He's wondering and that's fine.

“It wasn't a relationship. Just a hooking-up type of one and we ended it. So I just need to get things back how they were.”

And comically enough, the person who's a part of this is sitting just right over there. Even though Gabriel seems to notice quite a few things, Jungkook and your history with him seems to be oblivious to him.

Why do you care?

You've been trying to keep it a secret as long as possible until it got out. So what if he knows the truth? It's not like you'll see him again – most likely. You don't need anyone to judge you two or look at you differently. You definitely don't need any more insights into this matter than your friends have delivered.

Your own mind is a mess.

And on top of it, Jungkook and you are on edge.

The mention of him causes you to look up. And fuck. What a mistake you make.

You meet Jungkook's gaze, the intense color in them burning even from this distance as he's already looking at you. Your breath hitches in the most subtle way. While you stare shocked that he has noticed you, his brows are pinched together.

He's not exactly pleased to find you here.

Nara sits on the opposite side of the table, so all you can see is her back but she seems to be saying something to him. Jungkook reaches for the glass of wine and takes a few sips, eyes not leaving yours.

Then he's the first one to look away. That tiny detail affects you more than you're able to admit and you almost fume when the frown disappears from his face. You watch it all. His features relax as he talks to her back, obviously listening to her even though his eyes were elsewhere. Even that is kind of annoying.

Nara gently throws her head back and giggles almost so loudly, that you hear some of it. With the most burning eyes you watch Jungkook smile and let out the prettiest gentle laugh.

“Are you okay?”

You quickly avert your gaze to Gabriel. “Yeah.”

“Thought I already bore you.”

You push out a laugh, wishing Jungkook is looking. But once your eyes stupidly wander back to him – he actually is looking.

You make sure Jungkook sees the tiny provoking movement upwards of your lips. And he does. His eyes narrow, addressing the glare to you and only you.

“No, I'm starting to have a lot of fun.”

Gabriel's and yours glasses clink together comically in a synchronized way. But the only ones who seem to be on the same wavelength and having an idea – are you and Jungkook.

a/n: F-I–N-A-L-L-Y! believe it or not, nobody wanted to get this chapter out more than me! if you've been around and reading some of the asks, you probably know life got crazy and busy! as always, I'm super grateful to everyone who's been patient for me and cheering on me whether it was online or offline ♡ to every person who's been harassing me on the internet over an update, this one's not for you. I see you and I'm not interested. I've said this in one of my asks – you never know what someone goes through offline and what could possibly be the reason of their lack of activity.

on another note, this chapter should've had more scenes and so much more was supposed to happen, but from obvious reasons I've decided to post it in the end because I still think it's a good chapter. anyway, I hope you'll like it just as much as I liked it when I was writing it (no matter how much time it took me 🥴) all the love goes to you guys!

If you’ve enjoyed this chapter, please consider buying me a coffee☕️: https://ko-fi.com/personasintro ♡ Teaser for chapter 60 will be posted there!

goal: 9k notes 🌙

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #bts au #mutual help #personasintro

6K notes · View notes

jaylaxies · 2 months ago

Text

ONLY IF YOU SAY YES (please say yes)

PAIRING: heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE: enemies to lovers, smut, fluff, angst, masturbation, cunnilingus, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, lots of kissing, mention of food, usage of nicknames, featuring jay, jake, sunoo, wonie, karina and ningning (aespa), and beomgyu (txt).

WORD COUNT: 17.4k words

SYNOPSIS: having your enemy in your friend group was tiring enough, however, having him shift into your apartment at the same time all your roommates slash friends had to leave you alone to attend their club’s exchange program for a whole week? yeah, that was your final straw.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N: hihi loves <3 i know i’m late, but better late than never, right? this fic wouldn’t have been complete without my loves @hoondrop , @jaeminvore and @jeane-e giving me ideas throughout. i hope you guys will like it :3 (not proofread) all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated! iloveyou all <33

Chapter 1. The café.

The sound of keyboard clicking always clicked your brain in the right way, especially when you were collectively using your brain and will to finish and submit the assignment—which was due in, oh well, thirty minutes.

It should’ve been perfect, you thrived working under pressure, you were researching on your favourite topic and were sitting in the comfort of your favourite cafe. It should’ve been the ideal environment for you to work on and yet, that just wasn’t the case.

You were so close to completing it, finally working your brain to form the best possible conclusion for the assignment, but that was the exact second your train of thought broke, courtesy of the most obnoxiously loud laugh you’d ever had the pleasure of hearing.

“Can’t you shut up for a fucking second?” Your voice boomed through your friend group, reaching the person who was sitting right beside you, “just because you have nothing to do doesn’t mean that others are free of work too,” you ranted, frustration clear on your face.

Your words were clear, however, the guy only smiled in amusement, causing your other friends to sigh.

You took that second to cuss out just how effortlessly devious he looked with his ruffled black hair, his specs perched upon his perfectly upturned nose only hid his dark eyes as he stared at you, his lips a light shade of red from how much he bit it while trying to suppress his laugh, and a smirk always plastered on his annoying little face.

“Can’t you guys stop fighting and fuck it out or something? The sexual tension is so insanely thick, I might have to use a knife to cut it down,” Sunoo huffed out, staring at your way disapprovingly.

“It’s too obvious if I’m being honest, Heeseung can’t stop talking about Y/n even when she’s not around,” Jay went on, giving his input, your eyebrow cocking up his way.

“Wait! Do you remember the Beomgyu guy? Fifteenth March, twenty twenty four, he was coming to ask Y/n out and, Heeseung completely sabotaged it by grabbing her book and running away to some other place as soon as Beomgyu started walking towards Y/n? Which distracted her as she ran after him,” Jungwon said, eyes wide and head nodding as he agreed with himself.

“Oh and, when Y/n got herself the vanilla perfume when she overheard Heeseung mentioning he hated the scent of vanilla?” Winter added.

“Right. When in reality he’s quite literally obsessed with that scent,” Sunghoon chuckled, watching your eyes widen in disbelief.

“And now she smells just like he wants each day, not that he wasn’t obsessed with your scent already,” Ningning helpfully added with a shrug.

You blinked twice to process this, having gone through a series of emotions within the span of two minutes was a tiring process, however, Heeseung was only amused, as if the teasing didn’t get to him at all.

Almost as if he was enjoying it.

“Oh, fuck you guys. He’s not worth my attention.” You side eyed Heeseung, the corner of his lip quirking up with your comment.

You still had your assignment to finish, and there was absolutely no way you were going to sit next to Heeseung with your cheeks heating up at the countless instances of your so called obsession thrown your way, so you got up, trying to collect your papers and laptop, only for your wrist to be grabbed by Heeseung.

“I’m not worth your attention and yet you’re leaving, hm?” He asked, voice so calm, almost as sweet as honey as he stared into your eyes, smirking soon after, “are you sure I don’t affect you in any way, darling?”

A series of hoots slash gasps were heard, which surely disturbed the entire cafe but your friend group lived for the drama.

You scoffed, looking elsewhere, trying to walk away but his grip on your wrist was too strong.

“Let go, Heeseung,” you gritted your teeth.

“Wow,” Sunghoon whispered, sipping on his drink with more interest than ever.

“I think you’re obsessed with me,” he chuckled, voice smoother than velvet, tugging your wrist closer to him, a gasp leaving your mouth as you trip and fall right on his lap, “am I wrong?”

Two flashes went off at that very second, your wide eyes turning to look at Sunoo and Ningning with an accusatory glance as your heart beated out of your chest, his arms holding you close to his body.

“Don’t let us interrupt, go on,” Sunoo nodded, making you groan while Karina tried to say something to calm you down, which your mind didn’t bother registering in the middle of the chaos.

“Don’t fucking create a scene here and let me go,” you warned Heeseung, looking at him, trying to ignore the evident lack of distance between your bodies, and well, your faces.

“Only if you agree to it, darling,” He whispered back.

“I don’t think we should watch this anymore,” Jay coughed out in distance.

“There’s nothing to agree here, Heeseung,” you gritted out, trying to get up and get out of his grasp.

“Yeah?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Fine, then live with me for a week.”

“What?”

“Wait, what?”

“Huh?”

You didn’t even bother realizing which friend exclaimed what, you just stared at Heeseung in disbelief, hating the fact that his vanilla musk scent was invading your senses.

“Have you officially lost your mind?” You asked, genuinely concerned.

He shook his head with a little chuckle, eyeing the whole friend group as if they’ve been hiding something you should be knowing. Their gulps and inability to meet Heeseung’s eyes only made you more curious, “what the fuck is going on?” You asked.

“We’re practically gonna be roommates now,” Heeseung let out ever so smoothly.

“What?” You asked back dumbly, ignoring Jay’s cough in the background.

“Well, you see,” Karina started with an awkward laugh, “Since Sunoo moved out to live in the dorms now, one room is empty in our apartment,” she explained, playing with her nails just to avoid your gaze.

“And you’re giving it to him?” You asked, thumb pointing at Heeseung in a very demeaning manner.

“Well, ouch,” he commented just to piss you off more.

“Wow guys. And when were you planning on telling me all this?” You asked, annoyance heightened even more, you could feel a headache coming, almost rushing to you from a mile away.

“Well, we’re all going for the exchange program next week so we figured it would be nice for Heeseung to shift before that, given that you both are the only ones in our group who didn’t bother joining our exchange program club,” Jake tried to avoid eye contact as he explained.

Your mind was spinning. Having Karina, Ningning, Jay, Sunghoon, and Jake as your roommates was enough even though Sunoo moved out, albeit you had to pay more rent, but having Heeseung in the same space as you each day? Sharing the necessities, eating together, commenting on your daily lifestyle with the nastiest smirk on his face? Criticizing the way you pair up your comfortable shorts with the same, favourite pair of T-shirt you own each day just because it feels right. The way—

“I don’t think there’s gonna be any problem in all honesty, cause she’s comfortable with me already,” Heeseung pointed out, gripping your waist tighter, a reminder that you were still sitting on his lap.

You gripped on his arm, digging your fingers to hurt him, “I’ll kill you if you don’t let me get up this second,” you seethed out, your ears warmer than ever.

“Just agree to it then, baby,” he whispered, staring at your lips and even your friends had stopped looking your way by now, not wanting to interrupt anymore.

“A week alone with you would be nothing but hell, Lee Heeseung,” you said, still looking into his eyes.

“I’ll take that as a yes then. A bet is a bet baby, don’t fall in love with me,” he winked, loosening his grip on you as you got up right that second.

Even your legs felt wobbly by now, the proximity being too much for you to handle. Yet, you weren’t one to lose.

“Love and me? Ah, yes why not? Your own face is blood red with how much you’re blushing, I hope that helps,” you pointed out before grabbing your belongings and rushing out of the cafe, completely missing the smile on Heeseung’s face.

“They’re down bad, aren’t they?” Jake whisper-asked Jay, who chuckled.

“Yeah. Yes, they are.”

Chapter 2. The humble abode.

Rushing out of the café was the only thing you could manage to do, getting into your car and deciding to do your assignment right there before getting back home and thinking about what happened a few minutes back.

It wasn’t easy.

Not when your ears were burning hot, and you weren’t even sure if it was because of anger or embarrassment. Or the underlying fear of what was to come.

Heeseung was going to be your roommate.

The same Heeseung who had been nothing but annoying throughout your high school years, and now, in your university too. Having the same group of friends helped, it really did as you could avoid him (read: or try to avoid him) but having him invade your personal living space would revoke any sense of comfort for you.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You were tired, almost lifeless on the couch after you had typed out your assignment, keeping your swirl of emotions to yourself, however, you weren’t gonna let your friends get away with this.

Which is why you attacked Jake as soon as he entered the apartment.

And he silently cussed himself for being the first one to come back home.

“Listen, I know you’re mad,” he started, sighing and brushing his hair back as he made his way towards you, sitting down right next to you.

“I’m so gonna die,” you mumbled.

“But it won’t be that bad, trust me. You won’t even have to be home all day, you can hang out with your friends and just come back, sleep, avoid him and repeat the cycle!” Jake smiled, as if he had solved the biggest problem this world had.

“Right. All my friends, including your stupid ass, will be going out for an exchange program. Did you forget that, Jakey?” you smiled back sarcastically.

“Don’t you have any other friends?” He asked and you slapped his head, “ouch!”

“Where are others anyway?” You asked, looking around the empty apartment.

“Hoon and Ning should’ve been back by now, they left right after you did,” he said, you both stood up a second after in realization.

He tiptoed to the door of Hoon’s room while you made your way to Ning’s room, “ready?” you smiled, “three, two, one—”

And there they were, in their respective rooms, practically eating the faces of their girlfriends.

“Wow, now that’s life,” you chuckled as Ning stopped and looked at you with a red face, while her girlfriend, Nics, waved hi to you.

On the other hand, Sunghoon only cussed out loud, trying to hide his girlfriend, Moon, as he asked Jake to ‘close the damn door.’

“Well, when’s he shifting?” You asked, retrieving back to your old position on the couch.

“I think he’s gonna start sending his stuff in here like, today,” Jake nodded, checking the date.

“I’m gonna explode. This is not how I wanted to spend my vacations,” you groaned and Jake only patted your back softly.

“It’s okay, it’ll be okay,” Jake smiled.

Not even a second later, the sound of the door swinging open startled you, your body shifting close to Jake’s in the process, as he did the same, a hand on top of his beating heart.

As soon as Heeseung entered the apartment, carrying a duffle bag on his back, his eyes fell on how you and Jake sat in close proximity, staring at him with a questionable glare, his eyebrow cocking up at the sight.

“Since when are you guys so close—cozy with each other?” He asked, walking to you both, a scoff leaving your lips as you stood up, standing right in front of him.

“And how’s that any of your business?” You asked, walking away and making sure to bump your shoulder to his in the process.

“Ah,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he heard you walk to your room, slamming the door shut behind you, his eyes finally turning to Jake, giving him a look he couldn’t quite decipher.

Jake only tilted his head, not understanding the enmity between you, also the sudden change in the atmosphere of the room, he only looked at Heeseung with confused eyes as he asked:

“What did I do?”

Chapter 3. Not so humble.

Heeseung loved to make his presence known, especially when he observed how hard you tried to avoid him every passing second, as if you didn’t wish to acknowledge him at all. He was settling in just fine. In fact, he made sure to send in his bed the first thing the next day, which only gave him the perfect opportunity to stay for the dinner, rest the night, and stay for the breakfast before winding up his stuff at his old place.

It was still fine when he sat down next to you for meals, at least you had your friends around for four more days, which helped you ignore the said man for a while.

It was still okay when he continuously poked your arm to ask you for a spoon that was clearly closer to him, yet you passed it to him before turning your attention back to Ning, who was around for three more days.

It was still bearable when he played loud music at night, making sure to blast it on the speaker right after playing video games, which definitely irritated all your friends, but Jay was kind enough to lend you his noise cancellation headphones as you went to sleep, which you could keep for two more days.

It was your last straw when Heeseung stabbed his fork way out of where it should’ve been. There was absolutely no reason for Heeseung to eat from your plate, and not just any dish but your favourite side dish. That’s when you took a deep breath, turning to look at him, only to be surprised as he was ready with his fork up, offering you a bite of the exact same snack he had picked up from your plate.

His brow was raised, and Hoon looked concerned, being the only one who sat down to have dinner with you guys, but Heeseung didn’t really seem to mind.

“What? Don’t wanna eat anymore, princess?” He asked.

“I’d rather die than eat from the same plate as you,” you said, trying to ignore his muscles which were clearly visible as he was clad in the comfort of his tank top.

“Why not? I’ve heard it helps in spreading love y’know?” He said, biting his lower lip as he looked your way.

“Hah, as if.”

“Scared you’ll fall for me?” He smirked.

You scoffed, grabbing his hand and taking a bite of what should have been your meal, chewing it before saying, “let’s see what kind of love is gonna spread now, yeah?”

You gave him a look before retreating back to your room.

“Why exactly are you bothering her?” Hoon asked, taking a spoonful of rice in his mouth, “are you that desperate for her attention, loverboy?”

“C’mon, I’m not in love with her,” Heeseung spoke lazily, eyes still on your closed door.

“Right,” Hoon clicked his tongue, “you’ve never once denied it.”

“It’s just fun to see her bothered, she hates me anyway—”

“—which bothers you, and hence you try to grab her attention even more,” Sunghoon said, as calm as ever.

“Stop. You’re crazy,” Heeseung laughed it off, getting up and throwing a piece of carrot on Hoon, who in turn threw a cap of the water bottle right on Heeseung’s head, making him scream out comically as Hoon chuckled, mumbling something under his breath.

“They’ll be fucking by the time we come back.”

Chapter 4. Not your driver.

“Toothbrush?”

“Check.”

“Laptop?”

“Check.”

“Charger?”

“Check.”

“Passport?”

“Oh fuck, I almost forgot that,” Karina gasped as you helped her finish some last minute packing.

“I don’t wanna go to uni, but I have to submit these files,” you sighed while Karina finally zipped up her bag.

“I would have dropped you there but I have to pick up Ningning from her girlfriend’s place,” she sighed.

The door opened right then, “I couldn’t help but overhear—”

You rolled your eyes, “—eavesdrop.”

“Overhear,” Heeseung repeated, “that you need a ride. I’m going that way I’ll drop you off,” he smiled.

You stared at him, expressionless.

You wanted to punch the perfect smile off his face.

“I told him to be nice to you, so hopefully he’s gonna follow that,” Karina gave her input at your obvious reaction.

You looked her way with a surprised smile, “you did?”

“Of course! You should go now,” she said, shooing you away and asking you to get back as soon as your friends will be leaving by the evening.

“Yeah, we should save the gas and travel together, be good to the environment and our Mother Earth,” Heeseung cheeked.

“Oh! Great, I have to go and submit my file too, can I tag along?” Jake asked, looking at you.

“Yes!”

“No!”

You and Heeseung exchanged glances.

“We’ll share, we have to take care of our environment, Heeseung,” you smiled, grabbing Jake’s arm and walking out of the apartment.

You didn’t wait before getting into the backseat, which made Jake opt for the passenger seat, Heeseung looked your way in disbelief, even more so when you smiled his way.

It was one of the few genuine smiles of yours, which Heeseung didn’t get to see much around him, however it was a given that him being irritated brought you happiness.

Jake’s campus was farther away, yours was comparatively closer, and you looked out as Heeseung played music—one of those bands he loved, but he didn’t stop at your campus.

“Hey, she has to get off,” Jake said, looking at Heeseung.

“I’ll drop you off first, you have a flight in a few hours,” he theorized.

You rolled your eyes.

“Since when do you care so much about everyone?” You asked, looking at his eyes through the front mirror.

“I don’t,” he said, winking back at you, “only you.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as Jake got off, saying a goodbye to you both.

However, Heeseung didn’t start the car again, which caused you to open your eyes again, “why aren’t you driving?”

“I’m not a driver, my love. Sit here,” he patted the passenger seat twice.

“You can’t be serious, it’s literally a five minute drive.”

“Six minutes now that you’ve wasted sixty seconds arguing with me,” he spoke, checking his watch as if that would do anything.

You rolled your eyes yet again, something you’d do quite frequently around him, but nevertheless, you got off and walked to the passenger seat, closing the door shut and grabbing the seatbelt, only to turn around and see Heeseung’s face right in front of you.

“W—what are you doing?” You asked, breath shaky.

“Was gonna help you with the belt, but you’re fast hm?”

“I can do it—”

“Shh, just sit comfortably,” he whispered, his warm fingers touching yours, covering your hand fully before you let go of the belt, allowing him to buckle you up.

His messy hair fell on his forehead in soft waves, a constellation of light freckles covered his cheek, a broken eyelash rested there comfortably, and his scent, his ever so present scent invaded your scenes yet again.

“You’ve got a little something here,” you told him gently, pointing out where his eyelash was.

“Oh, just a minute,” he mumbled, carefully picking it up and placing the lash on the back of his hand.

Observing him was all you could do, especially when he looked so innocent as he closed his eyes, mumbling something under his breath before he curled his lips into a sweet pout, blowing the air on his fist in a gentle breeze.

“What did you wish for?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

He chuckled, only looking your way, “let me know if it comes true, princess.”

You couldn’t speak anymore, even when he leaned back with a slight smile on his face, starting the car again and driving.

You somehow subtly kept on noticing him, his grip on the steering wheel, the veins prominent on his hand and arms, his lip bitten in slight concentration. You shook your head, looking outside again, and in no time, you were in front of your campus.

“You’re welcome, princess,” he spoke, voice ever so smooth and you simply squeaked out a thank you before rushing out.

You blamed his scent.

It was all because of his scent.

Chapter 5. Home Alone.

It was three minutes past seven, the sun was setting and so was your mood as you bid goodbye to your friends who were filling up their bags in the backseats of the cabs they had booked.

Jay was busy giving you a list of things to take care of while they were gone. Karina hugged you as she waved a bye, Ningning only winked your way, looking at Heeseung right after. Sunghoon and Winter were already sitting in the car, too excited to leave while Jake waved at you like a happy puppy.

Heeseung stepped right in front of you, waving back with more enthusiasm than he had ever displayed before, screaming happy journey to everyone as the cars left one by one.

That’s what you have to deal with now.

With that, Heeseung made his way into the apartment again as you stood there for a minute more, slapping your forehead a few times, “I can do it,” you whispered, “it’ll be okay, I’ll keep myself busy, I’ll be okay.”

Overthinking was your detrimental forte, the one that Heeseung never failed to fuel. You should catch him off guard too, shouldn’t you? You should’ve grabbed his collar and warned him instead of freezing on the spot.

Your train of thought broke the second you stepped into the house, being caught off guard yet again by none other than Lee Heeseung, who so carefully grabbed one of your wrists and pinned you against the door, closing it right behind you in a swift go, “hi,” he smiled.

You’ve had enough, grabbing his collar into a fist and pulling him even closer, “fuck,” he groaned.

“It hasn’t even been a fucking minute and you’re already making my life a living hell, I swear to god, Heeseung.” You let go of the collar, grabbing his hair by the nape to pull him away.

The action which caused him to moan.

You let go of him that very second as he closed his eyes, “you’re such a pervert. Ew! What the fuck?” You looked at him with wide eyes, even more so when he chuckled deeply, his eyes on you again.

“Can’t blame me for that one, it feels really good, princess,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.

“This won’t do,” you said, a hand on your forehead again.

“So what? Wanna set up rules like they do in those stupid movies?” He suggested, sitting down on the couch and looking at you, as if he expected you to sit down with him.

“Rules?” You pondered for a second, “yeah, anything to keep your behaviour in check,” you mumbled, and soon, you both were sitting on the opposite chairs of the dining table as you scribbled down the rules.

Y/N and Heeseung’s one week agreement <3

1. No touching each other. 2. No stealing food. 3. No loud music and video games. 4. No bringing guests without prior notice.

“No guests?”

“No. Keep your girlfriends away from here, understood?” You asked.

He chuckled, amused, “why? Would that bother you, princess? You don’t have to worry y’know? You’ll always be the number one in my heart,” he winked, resting his hand on his chest.

“No, thanks. Still don’t want you,” you told him, even though his last statement did sound sincere.

Way too sincere for your own liking.

“Can I write too?” Heeseung asked, and you raised your brow.

“Since you asked nicely.”

5. Chores will be divided equally. 6. One hour bonding time each day. 7. Y/N can’t avoid Heeseung.

“Why do we need bonding time?” You asked midway.

“Cause we’re gonna live together, so we should put our differences aside,” he shrugged, and you stared at him.

“We can just ignore each other.”

“Now, where’s the fun in that?”

“This isn’t a game, Heeseung.”

“But it’s exciting,” he said, and you sighed.

Arguing with him was pointless.

“Okay, fine.”

9. Maintain cleanliness.

That was the last point you added before you both signed the sheet, agreeing to add more in case you come up with any rules. It was the most normal you had been with Heeseung, but you still wanted to be away.

You didn’t wanna hurt yourself.

You tried not to think about it as you went to sleep, but it didn’t work much, not when your mind was hyper aware of the silence in the apartment. That’s when you decided to get up and grab a midnight snack, perhaps a cup of noodles would help you sleep better.

With tiredness still evident in your eyes, you worked the stove on, grabbing a pot to heat up water, standing still as you took the support of the marble countertop, your palms lay flat on it as you stared at the packet of mint chocolate that was in the shelf in front of you, something that Sunoo possibly had forgotten to take with him.

“Not sleepy?” A husky voice made you gasp and turn around, caging you right in between the counter and Heeseung.

“Fuck! You scared me,” you gasped at his shirtless figure, “why the fuck are you awake and why are you not clothed?” You asked, distressed.

“I heard noises from the kitchen so I obviously had to come over and check,” he said, tilting his head innocently right after, “I have to make sure the princess is safe, right?”

“I can very well take care of myself, thanks,” you huffed, waiting for him to move, which did not happen.

“Okay, then try pushing me away,” Heeseung said, a slight close-lipped smile present on his face.

You simply made use of the little space to pour the hot water into the cup noodles, covering it with its lid.

“You love these games too much, don’t you?” You said, finally looking up to see his body right in front of your face.

With thick yet lean muscles, he stood tall, his clavicles visible in an attractive fashion as the dim lights of the room only enhanced the slight traces of his abs, making it evident that Heeseung included working out in his daily routines.

You gulped unknowingly, closing your eyes for a second before meeting him, only for his eyes to fall on your lips for a slight enough, just enough for you to miss it.

“Not gonna push me?” He asked, still playful, but with a gentle rasp in his voice.

“You’re not appropriately clothed for me to touch you, Heeseung,” you said, trying to muster a bored, unimpressed expression, as if your ears weren’t burning warm.

“Why? Does skin to skin contact scare you now?” He challenged, “one touch is all it takes, babe.”

“Oh lord,” you groaned, stretching your neck back, only to find Heeseung’s gaze more intense than ever, “fine, move.”

You placed your cold hand on his warm torso, right above his heart, and you could have sworn it was beating a tad bit faster than how a normal heart should be beating.

Pushing him was practically impossible, especially when he bit his lip and chuckled, not moving an inch despite your efforts. The room felt warm as you scoffed and retrieved your hand.

“Can’t move?” He teased.

“I’m just tired, move.”

“Or, you’re just weak.”

“That’s all you can do Heeseung, challenge a tired girl who’s trying to eat.” You pushed him again.

“I’m strong, princess. Don’t you see?” He pointed at his body, and you closed your eyes yet again, trying to convert your feelings into anger.

“Your body might be strong but your fucking ego is weak.” You said finally shoving him enough for you to move.

“Now, now. That’s wrong, princess.” He said, grabbing your cup noodles and testing your patience yet again.

Messing with you was one thing.

Messing with you while you were sleepy was another thing.

But messing with you while you were sleepy and hungry, that was war.

“Give me the noodles back you small dicked asshole!” You chased after him.

He stopped you easily with a hand, twirling you around and pulling you back, his bare chest pressed against your back.

“Small dick, hm?” He mumbled, keeping the noodles on the counter beside you, dragging his warm fingers across your bare tummy, stopping right on your belly button, “it would go up to here, yeah,” he caressed the area before letting go of you.

You stood there, breathing hard as your cheeks burned with the implication of his cock in your cunt, deep inside you at that.

“How do you even get women, all talk and no action?” You asked, walking back to your room with the noodles in your hands, avoiding the fact that you were completely flustered.

“Oh I’ll show you all the action you need to see, princess,” he winked as you turned to look at him, his hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatpants, “g’night, darling,” he smirked, walking away as you spent the night punching your pillow, eating your now soggy noodles.

Lee Heeseung was going to be the end of you.

Chapter 6. A proof?

In the span of a few days that Heeseung shifted at your apartment, you realized a few things.

First, Lee Heeseung loved being shirtless.

Second, Lee Heeseung was a good cook.

And third, Lee Heeseung was the biggest flirt known to mankind.

Now, putting them all together; you didn’t expect to wake up with the scent of fresh waffles and fruits spreading around the apartment. Nor did you expect Heeseung to set up a plate full of breakfast for you right around the time you woke up, that too with the biggest smile on his face.

It felt like a dream almost, and you were ready to ignore his shirtless body that gave you goosebumps and a sincere smile that almost made you smile too, to thank him.

But then, he did what he had to.

He opened his mouth and ruined it, going on about how you should eat fruits, it makes the cum taste sweeter, he said munching on an apple, laughing louder when you threw a spoon at him. That added to your annoyance simply because of the fact that he was practically glowing even in the morning, the radiant aura was too much for you to handle and you simply decided to avoid and ignore everything to have a spa day to yourself.

Heeseung did question why you were leaving, and you didn’t miss the hint of frown that was plastered on his face for a split second when he learned that you wouldn’t be around for the day, which you ignored because why would he even be sad? Just because he wouldn’t get to bother you today? That must be it.

“Come back soon, I still have things to prove to you,” he said, and you didn’t know what to expect anymore as you left the apartment.

There’s some sort of power in self care that makes you feel as if nothing could ever go wrong with you once you’re fully pampered, especially when your nails are freshly done, shaded in your favourite tone.

It’s seven in the evening when you get back home with three bags full of clothes hanging on your arms. Retail therapy was the way to go, it definitely de-stressed you for the day. It was too peaceful, and you didn’t know what was to come when you unlocked the door to your apartment, entered the hallway, taking off your shoes and furrowing your brows at the extra pair of heels there, along with the unusual sound.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint the noise that you were hearing. It wasn’t the usual music Heeseung played, nor was it the sound of the gaming system he often used, so you stepped in further, your heart pounding as the weak whimpers and the sound of slapping got closer.

The door to Heeseung’s room was wide open, and you found yourself peeking in before you could stop yourself, only for your eyes to go wider than ever as you saw what was going on inside.

The lights were dimmed, set to blue which made the room look hotter. On the bed was a girl you had never seen before, her face buried into the mattress as she made lewd noises, your mouth hung open, your heart beating faster as your eyes met that of Heeseung’s, his hair messier than ever and the cockiest smirk plastered on his face.

He was naked.

He was fucking the most brutal backshots into the cunt of the stranger, holding onto her waist and squeezing it, as if putting up a show for you as Meddle about by Chase Atlantic played in the background.

“Heeseung?” You whispered to yourself, your eyes never leaving his thick cock, observing his strong thrusts as if you were dazed—which you were.

And if that wasn’t enough, Heeseung had to take it up a notch by groaning out your name, spanking the girl’s ass and throwing his head back, mumbling your name and gulping as you saw his adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

He was fucking another girl and thinking of you, deliberately so.

You were too shocked to function, your arms losing their strength as your bags fell to the ground. The noise made you snap out of your dazed state, and soon you found yourself running to your room, locking the door behind you and leaning on it, covering your mouth as your chest heaved up and down.

That’s when you realized what Heeseung was trying to do—he proved it.

He proved exactly what he had promised you at night, and you knew you weren’t going to sleep tonight, simply because the guy you hated had proved it.

He indeed had a big fucking cock.

And he knew exactly how to use it.

Sleep was merely a concept to you for the majority of the night. How could you even close your eyes when you could see the most vivid image of Heeseung fucking a girl the second your eyelids close?

You had goosebumps over your body, your thighs pressed together as you thought back upon how he specifically groaned your name right after he saw you watching him.

“Ugh!” You groaned, rolling around and punching the pillow out of pure frustration.

You hated Heeseung yet he was the only thing on your mind.

“This can’t be real, there’s no way this is real,” you mumbled to yourself, your face getting hotter by the second but somehow, you managed to shut your eyes and drift to the wonderful place called the dreamland.

Chapter 7. Adulterated retaliation.

Overthinking was going to be your demise.

If it wasn’t enough as it was when you were awake, it was worse when you were asleep in your subconscious because there was no way you had just woken up with a gasp and, well, wetness in your panties that seeped through them and covered the crotch of your shorts.

You had a wet dream about the very man you swore you hated.

Grabbing your pillow, you hid your face as you let out a scream, looking distressed as you stared at your reflection when you got up. Flashbacks of how you dreamed to be the girl Heeseung fucked were scattered all over your mind.

“He groaned my name,” you mumbled, trailing your hand down your pants and into your panties, caressing the length of your cunt only for your pretty manicured fingers to come out soaked in your wetness.

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I need to avoid him.”

You knew for a fact that after last night, avoiding Heeseung would be the most difficult thing to do, cause he wouldn’t let it slide by any means.

However, you were surprised when you saw the kitchen and dining area empty, a plate was still kept there full of food for you, and you couldn’t be happier sitting peacefully and having your brunch, now that you had woken up late.

It was only when you were done washing your hands, wiping them clean of water with the towel, you felt someone’s presence behind you, and before you could fully turn around, Lee Heeseung had his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, your body going stiff as a reminder of what had happened yesterday, but at least he was fully clothed today.

“Pretty nails,” he inspected them, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “hold this,” he asked you, giving you a bottle, not waiting for you to hold it as he practically made you wrap your fingers around it.

“The fuck—” you opened your mouth but Heeseung let go that very second.

“Yeah, they would look pretty wrapped around my c—” he mumbled, walking away, leaving you shocked yet again.

At this point, you were pretty sure he was toying with you cause there’s no way he was acting so nonchalant about everything he did since he shifted to your, now his too, apartment.

You sighed loudly, keeping the bottle away on the counter before you leaned back against it, wondering what to do to deal with Heeseung. There was a bitter feeling in your chest, you weren’t sure why. Was it that easy for Heeseung to bring someone home? Fuck rules, he didn’t care about any of that. You wondered why you both even bothered to make them in the first place.

And somehow, just somewhere deep inside you, there was this feeling that you wanted to do something similar to take revenge on him. But would you call a guy to aimlessly fuck you on your bed? No.

You’d rather call a guy up for a hangout, a guy who was actually your friend and didn’t go for the exchange program, a guy you knew Heeseung despised.

Maybe that would keep Heeseung at bay.

Or maybe that’ll make him jealous and keep you closer.

A voice whispered from inside your subconscious, and you clenched your jaw, wondering why you couldn’t decide which scenario you would prefer more.

Nevertheless, you went on with the plan, texting Gyu to ask him if he was free for the day, mentally thanking the teacher that paired you up with him last semester for a presentation, courtesy of which you got his number. He called you the second his phone chimed from your text.

“Y/N,” he practically cheered, you could feel the happiness ooze out of his voice, and you smiled as you asked him how he’s been, and if he was free this evening.

“Fuck! I have to run errands today, can I come over tomorrow though?” He asked and you sighed, saying yes.

At least you’ll have a distraction tomorrow, right?

“How do you miss me all of a sudden though? Finally realized you’re in love with me?” He chuckled, asking you the question and you shook your head laughing, knowing he couldn’t see you.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gyu, I’m just bored at home, yeah?” You explained, and he promised that he’d be there to entertain you tomorrow afternoon.

Now though, you weren’t sure what to do for the day. Writing a diary? Nah. Listening to podcasts? Your brain was too clouded for that. You simply opted to take a shower and go out for a drive. It wasn’t like you were inexperienced by any means, it was just the fact that you hadn’t had sex in long which is why you were so frustrated.

Right?

You gulped, letting the warm water droplets caress your skin as they cascaded down the curves of your body. Even the slightest touch made you feel good, the bathroom getting fogged up as you took your time with the shower. But were you satisfied? You could hear the music blasting from Heeseung’s room now and his level of unbothered definitely bothered you.

“Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you groaned, stepping out after getting ready for your drive. You thank the lords that you had a car, and you simply decided to visit the lake nearby as you grabbed your car keys and put on your shoes.

“Where are you going?” Heeseung asked, and you wondered how he always had the perfect timing when it came to you being out of your room.

“Away from you,” you mumbled.

He chuckled, “why, princess? What’d I do?” He rasped, and you didn’t bother looking at him, tightening your laces the second you heard him call you that stupid nickname yet again.

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” you grumbled, standing up, “you’ve been breaking rules left right and straight ever since you entered this apartment, and the audacity to bring someone else home to fuck while keeping the door open and—” you said it all in a breath, closing your eyes simply because you couldn’t repeat what he had done.

“And?” Heeseung came closer, and you looked at his wet bangs as if he had freshly come out of the shower.

Your tongue poked your inner cheek as you grabbed his T-shirt, something he did not expect as his hand landed on your waist, pulling you to him, “you’re so fucking annoying, I hate you,” you seethed out.

You could clearly see him being flustered, probably because you instigated this interaction, “you hate me?” He asked, dazed, looking down at your lips, “you sure? Cause I think you’re in love with me.”

“You’re the one who’s looking at my lips, you’re the one who was moaning out my name, you’re the one who’s dreaming about my fingers wrapped around your fucking cock,” you finally let out, “are you sure it’s not you who’s craving me?” You chuckled.

You had officially lost your mind.

“I—” Heeseung started, his eyes never leaving yours, but you could see a hint of uncertainty on his face, as if he was contemplating on saying something, and you didn’t let him.

“You’re pathetic.” You let go of him, pushing his shoulder, but he only grabbed your neck and pulled you back, his other hand now behind your head so you wouldn’t hurt yourself as he pushed you against the wall.

“Yeah? And you’re not? Are you not thinking about last night, Y/N?” You gasped as his lips barely caressed yours.

You would feel your knees giving up, especially when he took your name with such emphasis that you couldn’t help but look at him, his fingers coming up from your neck to your jaw, cupping it gently before he placed his thumb on your bottom lip.

“Isn’t that why you’ve been avoiding me, hm? You wanna be that girl so fucking bad, don’t you?” A shiver went down your spine as his voice got deeper by an octave.

“Shut up,” you breathed out.

“Why, princess? Do you not wanna kiss me?” He bit his bottom lip as you stared at him hopelessly, your breath hitched as your heart hammered against your ribcage.

“No,” you mumbled.

He smirked, “no?”

“Heeseung,” you whispered, frustration clear in your voice.

You hated him.

And you hated yourself more for wanting to kiss his stupidly inviting lips.

“Yes, baby?”

“I—”

“You?”

“Please,” you closed your eyes, not believing the situation yourself.

“Please what, my love?”

You whined, not having it in you to say it out loud.

“I won’t kiss you till you say yes,” he shook his head slowly, his thumb still tracing your lip.

“Fuck it, yes,” you groaned, pulling him closer by his collar as he quickly cupped your face.

His lips were plush against yours, warm and inviting to the point he was rushing to have you closer to him, absorbing the moan that you barely got to let out. He was needy, almost as frustrated as you, your fingers gripping the hair on his nape, a gasp leaving his mouth as you both leaned back for a microsecond, still connected by a string of saliva.

You were on your tiptoes, your body getting warmer by the second, pressed against his as you breathed heavily as he licked your mouth open, shoving his tongue in to get a taste of you, his warm breath made you lose your last bit of sanity. He was groaning, trying to get used to your taste, something which he had wanted to do for a while now. He was practically drooling into your mouth like a hungry puppy, his spit dripping down your chin. Your tongue was quick to lap it up when he leaned back to breathe, but his own tongue was quick enough to rest on yours as you both tasted your mixed saliva.

That’s exactly when you opened your eyes, only to see Heeseung’s flushed face looking at you with dark, desperation filled eyes. That’s when you finally came back to your senses.

You had just kissed Heeseung.

And you liked it.

Well, fuck!

You had to run, you had to leave.

That’s exactly what you did, panic clear on your face as Heeseung saw you rush out of his arms and run out of the apartment, he called out your name but you didn’t look back, your heartbeat skyrocketing as you started your car to drive away.

It was all a blur to you as you somehow managed to reach the lakeside parking, which was almost empty on the side you had parked your car. Your mind was elsewhere, the taste of him lingered on your lips.

“What did I just do?” You asked yourself, covering your mouth as you groaned.

Mentally slapping yourself, even more so when you shifted in your seat, only to discover that you felt wetness in your panties. They were soiled simply because Heeseung had shoved tongue in your mouth.

“Fuck you, Lee Heeseung,” you mumbled closing your eyes and leaning your head against the cold window, slowly unbuttoning your jeans, unzipping them right after.

“I hate you, I hate you,” you whispered, letting your fingers travel down your body, and into your panties.

The cold of your fingertips juxtaposed the warmth of your cunt, the warmth of your clit, your body reacting to the touch as you gasped, the image of Heeseung’s slender fingers crossing your mind as you pressed your cunt to feel something, anything, that would make you feel better. You were soaking wet.

All you wanted was to be taken care of, you wanted this frustration to go away and it didn’t matter that you were in public, your car windows were tinted for a reason as you spread your legs and pulled your bottom wear down, exposing your cunt. A deep shaky breath left your mouth as you placed your fingers yet again.

Heeseung would rub your cunt in gentle circles.

Your subconscious said, as you stimulated your cunt, your eyelids fluttered close, thinking about Heeseung and his veiny hands. That’s exactly what you needed—what you craved.

Heeseung was right, you’re the one who’s been so desperate to have him, that was proof enough as you moaned out his name, shoving two fingers inside your cunt that was begging to be filled with Heeseung’s cock. You threw your head back, desperately fucking yourself, teasing your neglected clit with your other hand.

“Ah—fuck!” You cried out, thrusting your hips up to meet your fingers. It was almost pathetic how needy you were being, especially when you didn’t even remember the last time being this horny.

Truth be told, no guy ever made you this wet with just a kiss, so it was definitely concerning how Heeseung (read: your enemy) had managed to do so just by provoking you non stop.

You mumbled his name, your thighs closing when you felt your high approaching, sweat forming on your forehead as you leaned against your seat, your right on the edge, a few more thrusts and you’d be done.

Your breathing gets louder, the plea of Heeseung’s name only makes your climax approach faster as you thrusted your digits in, sloppily so, a tear rolling down your cheek as the image of Heeseung moaning out your name flashed in your mind. That was your last straw.

Your thighs shook as your body tensed up, the familiar feeling of your unadulterated pleasure approaching washed over your body, now more powerful than ever, coating your fingers with your juices of desperation.

You were breathing hard, trying to come back to yourself after having the quickest, best orgasm of your life which most certainly did fog up your side of the window.

That’s when you let everything settle in your head, a scoff leaving your lips as you realized.

You wanted Lee Heeseung.

Chapter 8. Revenge, sue for damages?

It felt like a walk of shame when you entered the apartment again, being careful to tiptoe, as to not alert Heeseung of your presence by any means. Too much had happened to you in the span of two days, and you weren’t sure how you’d even get on terms with all of this.

You had successfully closed the door to your room by the time a thought popped up in your mind: what would Heeseung be up to now?

He didn’t have any time to react when you left, even then he was calling out your name. You wondered if he even wished to talk to you anymore. You wondered if it was just a game to him, now that you had realized that you actually truly did want a piece of him, you couldn’t help but think if he wanted the same, or was it just his way to maybe bother you?

You had no clue, and you most certainly weren’t going to confront him about it, you hated every bit of confrontations, and this was something that made you want to run away and never come back.

Heeseung on the other hand was wide awake and aware of your presence. He felt calm now that you were back, he had been worried ever since you left hours ago, you never once checked your phone when he called you, it was on do not disturb, and you hadn’t checked it. Heeseung wondered what you’d think of him when you see 26 missed calls on your phone.

He was confused, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he touched his lips again for the nth time today, frowning right after as he thought of you never wanting to talk to him again.

Did he go too far this time?

He was dazed, a groan left his mouth as he punched the pillow next to him, he couldn’t control himself, not when you were so close to him, not when your scent lured him in. That wasn’t how he expected to kiss you, but now that he knew what you tasted like, it was hard for him to think of anything else but your lips.

However, the thought of you hating him kept him awake.

The thought of him hating you kept you awake.

And somehow you both fell asleep at the same time, your mind too tired to form another thought as you let the sleep take over.

You knew you’d wake up late, you were bound to wake up at 2 when you had slept (barely) at four in the morning.

However, in the midst of this chaos, you very conveniently forgot the plans you had made the prior day. Your head was hurting when you woke up, and you had no plans to go out of your room as you got up and took a shower in the bathroom attached to your room.

“Ugh, why’s my life like this?” You asked yourself as you brushed.

There was no answer, which only irritated you more.

It wasn’t the best day, of course, but you decided to dress up a little just so you could feel better—something you did when you felt down, despite not having a reason to dress up. You had to keep yourself occupied, especially when you could hear the cabinets opening and closing in the kitchen, which only made you hyper aware of how Heeseung was so close to you, yet so far away.

Were you making a big thing out of this?

You shook your head, grabbing your favourite cherry gloss and applying it over your lips, the lips that kissed Heeseung last night. It was hard not to stare at your lips in the mirror after that, you simply got zoned out yet again.

You’ve had enough of this, you sighed as you grabbed your phone, getting comfy on your bed yet again as you finally unlocked it, scrolling through the notifications to find something you didn’t expect.

26 missed calls from Heeseung.

Did this mean that he was actually worried? Maybe he had something to say? Maybe he wanted to tell you that he didn’t wish to talk to you anymore? Or maybe he simply wanted to confront you about it?

You were contemplating as you stared at the notifications, almost getting up to ask Heeseung about it, but then another ping of your phone stopped you right before you could go on outside.

Gyu 🐰: I’m here!!

Gyu 🐰: Do I ring the bell or will that be disturbing?

Fuck.

You had called Beomgyu in for the day, the past few events lingered so hard in your mind that this fully skipped your mind. And he was outside already, which means if he rings the bell then Heeseung would probably be the one to answer the door.

“Oh no,” you stood up, almost tripping on your feet as you heard the bell ring.

The door was open by the time you opened the door to your room, only to find Beomgyu and Heeseung right in front of each other.

“—I didn’t know you lived here,” Beomgyu said, patting Heeseung’s shoulder as you observed them carefully.

Heeseung had his jaw clenched, his eyes on the flower bouquet that Gyu had oh so conveniently bought for you. That’s exactly when Gyu spotted you, waving at you and saying your name in a cheerful tone, that made Heeseung turn to look at you.

Only to find you dressed up, as if you got ready for Beomgyu, a scoff leaving his mouth which you missed as you stared at each other for a few seconds, not sure what to say.

That’s when you simply grabbed Gyu’s arm and dragged him to your room, closing the door behind you as he simply let you do everything with a whipped smile on his face.

“Oh so we’re moving fast today, hm? You look so fucking pretty by the way—” he started blabbering, making himself feel comfortable on your bed.

“Shh,” you groaned, “stop please,” you whispered, and that’s when he realized that you were being serious.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern evident on his face.

“A lot,” you said, grabbing his arm and making him face you, “are you ready for some gossip, Gyu?”

You didn’t give him a chance to reply, telling him everything from the very start as his eyes widened. He let out a scream or two in between which definitely hurt your ears, and you were hiding your face by the time you reached the part where you kissed Heeseung.

“I’m so jealous right now,” Gyu said out loud and you only gave him a look before continuing, leaving the majority of the part where you touched yourself, but also including the fact that you’ve been sexually frustrated.

“So that’s what happened,” you said, gulping down and looking up at him.

He only blinked, once and then twice.

“So what I’m gathering here is the fact that Heeseung likes you and you, very sadly, like him back. Not to mention how you’re itching to have him fuck you,” he said, counting god knows what on his fingers, “bro really fucked a random girl after being hopelessly in love with you to prove his point, goddamn,” he whispered under his breath.

“Oh shut up,” you mumbled, pouting at the reminder, “he doesn’t love me.”

“Are you blind? He chased me away each time I tried to approach you,” he said, eyes wide as he tried to tell you how wrong you were, your heart beating faster all of a sudden.

“I’m gonna kill myself actually.” A groan left your mouth as you covered your face, “I’m so embarrassed, so confused.”

“You know what? You should fuck me to even things out with him,” Gyu said in the most innocent voice ever and you looked up at him yet again.

“Gyu.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

He only chuckled, coming closer to you with a mischievous smile, “oh so you wanna fuck Heeseung, hm? Not me? Only Heeseung? Wow, you’re so down bad,” he teased you and you somehow tried to push him away but he only got louder.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled as he went on singing something.

“Heeseung and Y/N sitting under a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g,” He screamed.

That’s when you got up and started tickling his sides, to which he had an explosive reaction as he fully let out a whine like the subbiest-sub ever, moaning out your name shamelessly as you hit his chest, asking him to shut up and lower his voice.

But that didn’t stop him from whining again when your fingers accidentally touched the sliver of his tummy, making him giggle like a kid right after, “please—go slow,” he cried out.

You stopped, looking at him being completely helpless and pouting, which was enough to get a giggle out of you, “oh lord,” you mumbled, shaking your head at his endless antics.

It certainly did help how he was there to listen to you, and of course, how he randomly suggested playing a game right after he was done whining.

However, what you didn’t know was that Lee Heeseung had his ear pressed against your door, his timing ever so convenient as he managed to hear whines and groans reverberating your room, that being his last straw as he stomped away, back into his room to possibly throw a vase away or two, but he simply resorted to punching the wall a few times, his blood boiling at the imaginary image of you being intimate with Beomgyu of all people.

He sighed, punching the wall again, leaning his head against it right after, “this can’t be happening,” he mumbled, getting away and dramatically falling down on his bed with a face that screamed upset.

Heeseung felt like his life was ruined.

Beomgyu was living his best life teasing you.

You felt as if your life was a game as you sat down to play a board game with Gyu.

It was kind of funny how you were playing the game of life.

It was even funnier when Gyu added a blue peg to your car after you got married at the church and named the peg Heeseung.

It wasn’t funny that Heeseung had yet again tried to eavesdrop by standing in front of your room, only to hear you and Gyu laughing about something, a clear reminder that he made you laugh, that you enjoyed your time with him.

Heeseung stared at the door as if he couldn’t believe this.

He had to do something.

Chapter 9. The thin line between hate and love.

It was dark outside by the time Gyu left your apartment, peacefully so, as there was no sight of Heeseung when you got out of your room and it gave you enough time to clean up and take yet another shower, getting comfy in your shorts again.

You weren’t sure what was in your mind anymore, while it was a given that you appreciated the distraction Beomgyu provided you with, you were also confused about everything that’s been happening lately, and even if you did hate confrontations, you wanted to confront Heeseung about this.

However, it was nearing midnight by the time you realized exactly how hungry you are, munching on snacks did not help you much through the day and you didn’t have much energy to go and cook something for yourself.

So, you opted for home delivery from one of your comfort food restaurants, happy about the fact that they were quick to deliver your meal, even if it was late at night. You paid the delivery man and headed straight to the kitchen to grab a plate and fork.

“Hungry, hm?” A deep voice spoke right beside your ear, alarming you as you turned around to look at Heeseung, who didn’t have a hint of a smile on his face, which was an unusual sight as he was always sporting at least a little grin if not more.

“Hee—” you gulped.

“—yeah?” He asked, his warm fingertips resting on your chin as he made you look up at him, “look at me.”

You still couldn’t look in his eyes.

He scoffed, “you’re funny honestly, one second you’re kissing me as if your life depends on it, and the next second you’re fucking another guy,” he said, clicking his tongue before he poked his inner cheek with it.

You didn’t expect this to happen, and you most certainly weren’t expecting Heeseung to be mad about it. Did he interpret it wrong? You didn’t fuck Beomgyu, but that’s exactly what Heeseung thinks it is that you did the whole day, the whines probably didn’t help, and it was no secret that Gyu was loud in everything he did.

Heeseung had you caged in his arms again, something he had done quite a few times after he shifted into your apartment, but the proximity never failed to faze you, his scent was as intoxicating as ever, and but at least he had decency to wear a loose fitted t-shirt this time.

You were zoning out again, but at the same time you were focused on his lips and how bruised they looked, as if he had been biting them out of frustration all day—the same lips you had so desperately kissed just yesterday, the same lips who had taken over your senses. They were so close to you again.

“Why do you care?” You asked, something you’ve been meaning to ask for a while, your face devoid of emotions.

“What?” He asked, taken aback by the sudden irritation that your voice now held.

“Why the fuck do you care, Lee Heeseung? Isn’t this just a game to you, hm? Isn’t that what you’ve been doing all along?” You pointed your finger at him.

It had started to rain outside, the downpour making the atmosphere seem darker than usual, you weren’t the biggest fan of rain, and the situation only made it worse.

“Why the fuck do you not understand?” He groaned, his arms on either side of you now as he took a shaky breath in, looking aside for a second as if trying to control his emotions from bursting out, “you think it’s a fucking game to me?”

“What else?” You scoffed, you needed him to say whatever was on his mind, you needed to rile him to the point he couldn’t help but tell you exactly what was going on, “is it not a game that you sabotage every time someone tries to approach me? Or when you keep bothering me with your constant attempt to pick fights? So why’s it a problem that I called Gyu here—”

“—don’t call him that.”

“Why not? Don’t like it? It’s so cute—”

Heeseung scoffed, “did he fuck you that good?” He asked, his blood practically boiling by now.

You bit your bottom lip, smirking right after, “better than the girl you fucked, seeing how she didn’t come back for more.”

“Yeah, princess. That’s why you wish you were her, right? You watched me fuck her with wide eyes, you gulped your drool down when you saw my dick thrusting into her cunt—you wanted it to be yours, I saw the jealousy in your eyes, baby. You can’t lie to me,” he whispered, his lips caressing yours.

“Or, you’re jealous cause it wasn’t you who fucked me. Isn’t that what you wanted? Isn’t that why you were moaning my fucking name?” You asked, your head tilted slightly to provoke him even more.

“Yeah,” he breathed out, making you look up at him in confusion as you saw him being dead serious about what he was saying, his eyes dark, “Yes I’m jealous, I fucking hate it, cause you’re mine.”

“What?” You were taken aback.

“Why? What’s so surprising, princess?” He chuckled, and you swore the butterflies you felt in your body were going feral, “you’re mine, are you not?” He asked in a whisper.

The indirect confession hung in the air, the sound of your breathing along with the heavy raindrops was loud, but not louder than your own thoughts. You couldn’t believe this was happening, it’s you who pushed him to confess, but it wasn’t something you had expected.

There was nothing but sincerity in the way he stared at you, waiting for some kind of reply, and suddenly you were back in fifth grade, trying to make sense of your feelings for the same guy who stood in front of you, your lips parting to say something, but it was hard for you to form words.

He had you trapped, mentally and physically. Did you belong to him? Did he belong to you? Did you wish to see him with someone else again? The thought was enough to make your blood boil. Did you want him to fuck anyone who wasn’t you—

“Are you fucking mine or not, Y/N—?” He asked and you didn’t let him speak anymore, grabbing him by his shirt as you surged forward in a rush to capture his rosy lips to yours.

His body reacted just as quick to kiss you back harder, his warm hand gripping your nape to keep you in place, your familiar taste simply had him groaning into your mouth, invading all your senses as you got dizzier in the essence of him, holding on to him tighter as you let yourself go as he sucked on your lips harsh enough for it to be swollen.

“Mine,” he murmured against your lips, voice deeper than ever as he squeezed your waist, a gasp leaving your mouth, “be good for me, hm?” He said, helping you sit on the kitchen counter right behind you.

He holds on to your leg, wrapping them around his waist as you pull your body even closer before he kisses you harder, even deeper, making sure that there’s absolutely no space left in between you—he needs to be close to you. Your clothed cunt pressed against him in a way that created the slightest amount of friction as you bucked your hips up in a rush.

He gladly swallowed all your whines, anger bubbling up about the fact that other people have gotten a chance to hear your pretty noises before him, but not anymore, cause you belonged to Lee Heeseung.

He was being rough the way he shoved his tongue into your mouth, hungry to taste you again and again, simply because it was impossible for him to get enough of you, your hands roaming all over his body to trace the hard muscles you’ve been feeling up, hidden underneath his T-shirt, the tension lingering, the agitation increasing. You wanted more, you needed more.

“Say you want it,” he whispered, his forehead pressed against yours as you both took deep breaths, practically breathing each other in, his thumb prodding at your mouth as you swirled your tongue around it, making him groan and push his two digits into your mouth, watching how you suck on them so diligently, a whine leaving your mouth as he pulled the fingers back, depriving you of them, “say it.”

“What if I don’t?” You clicked your tongue, pushing him back slightly with a smirk on your face, “won’t you touch me then?” You asked, looking at him innocently as you got off the counter, you could feel your panties being wet, walking to him, taking a step further to whisper in his ear, “won’t you fuck me?” You asked, biting his earlobe right after as you heard him suck in a sharp breath.

With that, you leaned back, walking back to your room as Heeseung stood there for a minute, trying his best to stay in control with his semi hard dick getting in the way, you being a brat wasn’t helping him by any means. A groan left his mouth as he followed you into your room, to find you waiting for him on your bed, sitting comfortably.

“Were you this much of a brat with Beomgyu too?” He asked, the question itself had him frowning as you chuckled and shook your head no slowly, “ah—no.”

He rolled his eyes, jaw clenched as he lifted his T-shirt up, messing up his hair even more as he threw it away somewhere on the floor, “you’re a spoiled little princess, aren’t you? Don’t worry, love, I’ll make sure you beg for me.”

You raised your brows, your eyes travelling down to stare at his body shamelessly, your bottom lip bitten as he walked over and climbed on the bed in a way that excited your body to the point that one touch from him would be enough to give you goosebumps.

“You look cute when you’re jealous, y’know?” You cooed right as he got close to you.

He didn’t waste any second, pulling your body to him easily so you were sitting right on his lap, his back pressed against the headboard, hands resting on your ass, rubbing gentle circles on it with his thumb as he looked down his nose caressing yours in a touch that made your eyelids flutter shut.

“Yeah, doll? Let’s see how cute I look when I don’t let you cum, hm?”

“What?”

“What? Pretty baby wants to cum?” Heeseung teased, his hand inching upwards in a manner that pushed your t-shirt up just enough so his hand could squeeze your waist, his fingers tracing your skin smoothly.

You couldn’t focus, not when he knew exactly how to invade all your senses. You liked the game of push and pull, but with how things have been, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer, not when having Heeseung control your body, touching and guiding you, felt so good. It wasn’t as if he knew what made you feel good, yet he was discovering how to make you gasp out of pleasure with ease.

Your hand on his bare skin only made the atmosphere seem hotter than it actually was. You simply nodded as a reply to his question—you needed to cum.

“Can’t even use your words now, princess? What happened to your bratty attitude?” Heeseung chuckled against your skin, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your jawline, your body reacting to it almost instantly as you threw your head back, giving him more space to kiss you down your neck.

You needed to do something, so you lifted your hips slightly, only to sit right on top of his hardened cock, making him groan out against your skin, almost biting your neck which had you whining out loud, your fingers tugging on his hair—something that you had learned would drive him crazy.

“Can’t control yourself, Lee?” You breathed out as a taunt, letting him bite your earlobe and practically growl out of frustration, licking and swirling his warm tongue on the expanse of your skin again, making you shiver and press down on his cock even more.

“So fucking needy,” he rasped out, fingers playing with the hem of your shorts now, which was easy with how your legs were spread as you sat on his lap, making you hide your face in his neck, warmth spreading all over your body.

“Please—fuck!” You cried out, biting on his shoulder as he gently caressed your clothed cunt, making him chuckle even more.

“Please what, princess?” He urged you to speak, even though your voice came out muffled as you pressed your face to his neck, the vibrations of your words making it hard for him to function.

“Want you,” you finally spoke up.

“Yeah? Who do you belong to, doll?” He cups your cunt, just to see how your body would react.

You moaned, hips bucking to get more friction but he only pressed your cunt harder, possessiveness lacing every single one of his touches.

“You.” Saying it out loud was the only way you could stop the teasing.

However, you couldn’t deny how you felt butterflies when he finally repeated after you, “that’s right, you’re my pretty little doll. All mine.”

You nodded meekly, letting him take control of your body as you squirmed under his hold. Heeseung knew he had won as he easily turned you over to help you lay on your back, getting on top of you with ease, staring at you, his chocolate brown eyes sporting a lust filled expression, “I’ll take care of you now.”

He dipped down to pepper kisses over the expanse of your skin, having had enough of your body being fully clothed, he asked if he could take your T-shirt off you and you lazily nodded, watching the most attractive man you’ve ever laid eyes on helping you out of your shirt, scoffing once he learned that you weren’t wearing a bra.

Suddenly, you were hyper aware of his gaze on your body, your hands working quick to cover your tits with embarrassment flooding your cheeks. However, he was still quicker to grab your wrists, pinning them above your head in a swift go.

“Never hide your pretty body from me ever again, it’s mine to worship, yeah?” He whispered, his hot breath nuzzling against your lips as you nodded along with him, as if in a trance.

Your chest heaved up and down with the bubbling excitement in you, your thighs pressed up against each other as the wetness seeped through your panties, soiling your shorts as well.

Heeseung smirked, “such a good girl when you listen to me,” he praised, eliciting a whine out of you. You never knew a praise would be enough to give you goosebumps.

The tip of his nose grazed your skin as he stopped right on your throat, licking your sensitive spot with his warm tongue, your back arching as you obliviously gave him more space to kiss and suck on your clavicle as he grinds against you, and you love how he overpowers you.

Your breath hitches the second his lips reach your torso, right above your left boob, and you’re almost sure he can hear your heart beating out of your ribcage with how much his presence affects you, and he simply looks up at you to press the most daunting yet soothing kiss right above your heart, as if he was trying to get the fact across that it belonged to him now.

You couldn’t look away, gaze peering down as he covered your nipple with his puckered lips, your moans encouraging him even further as he shamelessly sucked your tits, setting your wrists free to fondle your other tit, squeezing it harshly to see your expression contort into that of pain, but it was full of pleasure instead.

His thumb played with your nipples, rubbing circles on it gently to get them hard, only to pinch them right after, covering them with his mouth right after to soothe the pain—something you didn’t think you’d find pleasing but you did, especially when you squirmed around and he held you in place with ease.

Grazing your tits with his teeth had you whimpering, holding on to his arm, digging your nails as you held on to him tight.

“You like that, baby?” He smirked, hand sneaking down into your panties, your eyes rolling back at the slightest touch of his fingers against your sensitive slit, which was wet with your arousal.

“Taste how wet you get for me, princess,” he muttered, proud of how his two digits were covered with your slick, glistening under the warm, dim lights of your room.

You parted your lips, pushing your tongue out to let him rest the two of his fingers there as you took him in, swirling your tongue around his slender fingers coated in your wetness. A hum left your mouth at the same time as Heeseung groaned at the sight of you being a sweet little doll for him, doing whatever he says.

He couldn’t be gentle anymore, he had to taste you.

“Good girl,” he praised, brushing his thumb on your bottom lip before coating your tits with your saliva, circling your nipples as he placed open mouthed kisses as a trail down your torso, trying his best not to leave any area untouched.

You mindlessly chanted his name, moaning out in desperation as he got closer to your cunt, looking at you once. He appeared to be a hungry beast, the one who wouldn’t stop once he gets a taste of your cunt—the cunt he’s been dreaming about for so long.

He made you feel the things you hadn’t ever felt before, sending shivers up your spine with each touch of his. However, he was done being slow with you. As much as he loved to give your tits his undivided attention, he couldn’t leave your desperate little cunt unattended.

Your shorts were off in a swift go, leaving you almost bare with your panties on, his eyes darkening as he let lust cloud his mind. Holding your thighs open, he made himself comfortable in between them, mumbling about how every inch of you is perfect to him, your toes curling his breath got heavier.

He pressed an experimental kiss on your inner thigh, squeezing them once he heard your body react to it, a sweet little whimper leaving your swollen lips in the process. You grab a chunk of his hair, pulling on them and crying when he pushed your knees up, biting and sucking on your soft flesh of thigh as a promise that it’ll leave bruise marks.

His marks all over your body, he needed to mark you up, not even bothering to hide his possessiveness as he mumbled mine under his breath, continuing his ministrations, stopping right in front of your soiled panties, taking a deep breath.

“Oh princess, you smell so sweet for me,” he said, grabbing the thin fabric of your underwear, pulling them to the side, wrinkling them up without any care.

You propped yourself up slightly, the sight of Heeseung staring at your cunt as if he’s found treasure which he wishes to devour carnally wasn’t something you had ever thought you’d witness, but here he was, breathing deeply inches away from your cunt, purposely blowing hot breath on your soaked core, trying to agitate you further.

“Heeseung—fuck! Please,” you groaned, urging him to get closer, to be where you need him the most.

“Yes, princess?” He asked breathily, dark eyes still fixated on your pussy as he whispered, “pretty.”

“Please,” you begged feebly.

“Please what, love?”

You couldn’t help it anymore, pushing his head into your bucked hips was the easy way to get things going, tugging on his silky roots as you held him in place, a loud moan reverberated the room just as he groaned into your cunt, your eyes fluttering shut at the heavenly sensation you felt all over your body.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this from so long,” Heeseung mumbled like a madman, absolutely letting himself go, not holding back as he devoured your cunt, licking and sucking on your folds, commanding your body well as he held your legs open with his strong grip on your thighs.

Peppering featherlight kisses on your clit, he made you sigh breathily, his name on the tip of your tongue as you kept on whining, even more so when he shoved his face deeper, sucking on your sensitive nub as the warmth of his fingers traced the long strokes on your folds.

“Love—your—cunt,” he groaned with each lick, pulling you into him, easing your thighs on his sturdy shoulders as he slipped his tongue into your clenching hole, “all mine now, all fucking mine.”

His lips were covered with your arousal, his thumb taking over to rub circles on your clit, sending your over the edge as you tried to get a hold of yourself, but it felt good—the best you’d ever felt, and you could already feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head as he added more pressure to your poor clit.

Your legs shook around his head, your cunt clenching as he continued to fuck his tongue deeper and deeper, as much as he could humanly manage. He could have sworn he was drunk, too pussy drunk to even move from there. He was the reason you were this wet, he got you wet, he needed to take care of your cunt and be accountable for the same.

With his movements getting harsher, it only took a moment longer before you found yourself reaching your high, whines leaving your mouth as you fell apart on his tongue, giving him exactly what he had been so eagerly trying to get out of you.

Your cum covered the expanse of his skin—lips and chin shining as he licked big stripes of your now overly-sensitive cunt just to make sure he laps up every bit of the juice you so lovingly gave to him, “so fucking beautiful,” he kissed your clit again.

You took deep breaths, eyes still closed as you savored the moment, Heeseung staring at you with shiny eyes, trying to memorize every bit of your expressions. You looked like an angel to him, a sweet doll who was made to be kept safe with him. He wanted to keep you safe.

The sight was orgasmic, Heeseung’s raging boner would agree with it, however he wasn’t done having a taste of you, he was greedy by all means, almost as if he got addicted to your taste within seconds, he wanted to taste you again, and again.

Before you could even register what was going on, Heeseung grabbed your panties from the hem, ripping them into two instead of simply sliding them down your legs, your eyes widening at the sight of your now torn underwear.

He doesn’t give you much chance to say anything, his lips latched to your sensitive cunt in an instant, your response of moans almost pavlovian, even more so when his digits prodded your entrance. He buried two fingers at once, deep down to the knuckles, loving how you clenched around him uncontrollably, your lewd noises almost pornographic as he continued his ministrations.

The tip of his nose brushed your clit in the right way, his fingers curling inside you at the same time just for you to try and close your thighs out of sheer pleasure, which overstimulated you, but he was stronger as he held your legs open.

Heeseung didn’t feel sober by any means, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer either, especially with how he’s absolutely drunk on the essence of your cunt and the melody of your moans. Pressing his clothes cock harder on the mattress, he sped up, fingering you with no resistance, your wetness being the perfect lubricant for him.

“Doing so well for me, such a good slut for me,” he groaned against your cunt.

You jolted out of pleasure, his pace and words left your pussy tightening as a signal that your second orgasm was approaching faster than ever, which only encouraged him to eat you out faster, shoving another finger into you as his dick twitched with unadulterated pleasure.

Heeseung’s name was all you knew as you rode out your orgasm with desperation, tears cascading down your cheek and you swore you saw stars with how hard you came undone, watching him lick you up before he got up, getting rid of his pants and boxers in one go.

You could only breathe deeply, eyes shamelessly taking in his hardened cock, the tip red and leaking with how much he’d held back all this while. You clumsily tried to get up, your legs still shaking as you sat up, “can I—” you tried to ask, embarrassed.

“Hm, can you what, princess?” He asked, looking extremely attractive with his hair all over the place, lips cherry red and swollen, still glistening with the remains of your cum all over.

“Wanna taste you,” your voice was barely a notch above whisper.

“Oh—fuck. You’re such a pretty little slut for me,” he chuckled with amusement, “yeah? Is that what my doll wants? Want my cock in your sweet little mouth?” He asked, standing right in front of your mouth.

You nodded, your eyes big and pleading which only had him twitching, even more so when you gently grabbed the base of his cock, placing the faintest kiss on his tip, “a slut for you, yeah,” you mumbled, peppering kisses all over his length as he bit his lip at the sight, adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he gulped.

With your tongue swirling around the tip, you finally took him in the warmth of your mouth, a loud moan escaping his lips once he saw you with your cheeks hollowed, sucking him in so desperately, your hands massaging his balls simultaneously. He grips the back of your head, holding you in place as you sucked harshly on the tip of his dick, his body shuddering with immense pleasure.

He was already leaking when he tasted you, but having you on your knees for him, looking up with tears in your eyes as you drooled and whined, sending vibrations up his cock, that was it for him, but you didn’t let him move back, feeling the warm clawing of his orgasm on your tongue as you let him finish inside your mouth.

He had beads of sweat forming on his forehead by the time he finished, taking deep breaths but still staring at you, eyes full of adoration as you took his cock out of your mouth with a pop.

“You okay, love?” He asked, sitting down next to you, caressing the curve of your cheek gently.

You let him sit down next to you, and he did not expect you to open your mouth to show your tongue after you gulped down his cum.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he groaned, chuckling right after and cupping your jaw, “we’re so not done here, princess,” he said and your eyes widened.

“W—what?” You asked, breathing in deeply when he pressed a firm kiss on your lips, not moving back as he spoke.

“You really thought I’d let you go without fucking that pretty cunt of yours, hm?”

“Heeseung—It’s so sensitive right now,” you whispered, holding on to his arm.

“Shh, you can take it, right?”

His tone was enticing, the proximity paired with the intoxication Heeseung so eagerly provided had you nodding at his words. No guy had ever made you cum more than once and here Heeseung was, on his way to give you your third orgasm of the night.

“Yeah,” you whispered.

“Yeah?” He asked, tone breathy.

“Yeah, please,” you replied, and he chuckled, pulling you into another rushed kiss, slotting his lips against yours.

His kisses got harsher as he pushed you down on the bed again, holding you underneath him, your body reacting to him in an instant as you spread your legs further when he pushed his thigh up, pressing it on your cunt.

You moaned into his mouth, he swallowed every bit of it, almost greedy as if he didn’t want anyone else to even hear how pretty you sound. It was just for him, you were made for him.

“Ready, baby?” Heeseung asked, rubbing the tip of his cock against your pussy, the wetness lubricating his length as he stroked himself a few times, looking back at you when you nodded, “are you sure?”

“Hm—yeah. Are you?” You asked back.

“Never been more ready for anything, princess,” he whispered, dipping down to press his lips against yours.

He wastes zero time, both your eyes fluttering shut in ecstasy as he pushed himself into your needy hole, your back arching as you both shifted to be closer to each other, the stretch of his thickness was almost delicious and you couldn’t help but dig your nails on his back, trying to get a hold of yourself.

Heeseung moans out loud without any care, the way your walls gripped his bulbous size, “fucking hell you feel so good,” he cursed out loud.

Bottoming out was easy with how aroused you were, your wetness making him slide in deeper than any cock you’ve ever taken before. It felt straight out of a wet dream how Heeseung looked at you with hooded eyes, a smirk forming on his face at your obvious pleasure filled expression.

“You see this, princess?” He pulled back, thrusting in harder as you mewled, his hand coming to rest right on top of your abdomen, pressing down right there just enough so he could feel his cock bulge, “told you it’d reach right here.” He chuckled.

“You’re crazy,” you cried out, “so fucking b—big.”

“And you love it,” he hisses as you clench up around him, moaning and agreeing with whatever your pretty boy had to say.

Ramming into your hole made your tits bounce with each hard thrust of his, tempting him enough to reach forward to capture your nipple between his lips, sucking on them with no gentleness.

You tug on his hair, something that you knew would drive him insane. He practically growled, biting your nipple and sucking on it, littering marks all around your chest all while pistoning into you.

“Mine, you’re fucking mine,” he mumbled, the sound of skin slapping resonating the room, which was the prettiest sound Heeseung had ever heard, simply because it was a harmony of you and him, adding your whines and moans to the mix only made it better.

“God—Heeseung,” you struggled to breathe, now gripping your sheets as he abused your pussy, almost demonic in a way—something you really needed to satiate your desires, which Heeseung was fulfilling oh so beautifully.

Just when you thought it wouldn’t get any better, Heeseung pushed two of his fingers right on your sensitive bundle of nerves, working them in circles as if he was a professional and you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore.

“Did I say you were allowed to look away?” Heeseung asked, coming closer to your face, however you could barely form a reply, which had him scoffing and stopping his actions, finally getting a cry out of you as you looked at him.

“That’s a good doll, keep your eyes on me, yeah?” He whispered, sinking in impossibly deeper as you let your tears out, which turned him on even more than he thought was possible, “love how wet you get for me, shit—you feel so fucking good for me,” he said, dragging his tongue up your cheek, gathering your salty tears and licking them up.

You loved every second of this, his hand coming to slap your ass, grabbing a fistful of it to grope you harder while you absolutely let yourself submit to him, his dirty words only making you clench harder, your skin burning with the traces of his touch all over.

You felt like you were being split open as he rambled about how good you felt, it was addicting how your name rolled off his tongue in a possessive moan as he fucked you with pure need, also kissing you from time to time, his forehead pressed against yours as he stimulated your clit faster.

The room felt misty almost, but that was just the essence of you both being ever so desperate with each other, like your friends had always said—you needed to fuck it out.

And Heeseung was doing a splendid job at it, your legs twitching at this point with how sensitive your body was, body too fucked out, words not making any sense minus the few weak moans of Heeseung’s name.

You were so turned on, you didn’t want this to end but it was beyond impossible for you to hold yourself any longer, “gonna—gonna cum, please,” you begged, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss as he grunted out.

“Yeah, kitten? Gonna cum for me? Do it, baby,” he whispered.

His strong arms held you in place, pushing himself deep in your pulsing pussy as if you were a toy to him, but his kisses said otherwise, they were full of longing and endless desire, and he never wished to stop.

With a deep breath, you pulsated around him, leaking around his size with each aggressive pounding he gave you, and before you knew it, you were squirting all over his cock, ruining your bedsheets and surprising Heeseung who only rubbed your clit harder.

“Fuck—you’re so hot,” he groaned, a final thrust shooting his load of cum inside your cunt, staying right there as you both breathed the same air, taking a few minutes to lay side by side when he pulled out, the mixture of your cum dripping down your cunt.

Heeseung still held on to you, his arms wrapping your body close to him, patting your back gently, “you okay, love? You did so well for me,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead.

A newfound warmth spread your body as you witnessed Heeseung being genuinely sweet to you, a small smile caressing your face as you nodded, snuggling close to him and he let you do that, whispering praises in your ear, making you laugh and laughing along with you.

He knew you both couldn’t sleep on your bed for the night, so he asked you if you wished to sleep with him, and it somehow left you shy as you said yes. Getting up was hard when your legs felt wobbly, but Heeseung was strong enough to help you up and go to the washroom with you.

You both were silent as he helped you sit on the marble counter of the washbasin, grabbing your towel and dampening it with lukewarm water, you simply observed him being absolutely concentrated, devoted almost with how he cleaned you up, a pout forming on his lips as he did so.

It was endearing how soft he was all of a sudden, and you needed him to speak up and talk about everything that’s been happening with you both, the mixed signals, the teasing, the jealousy, and of course, the intimate moment you just shared, it needs to be discussed.

You stayed mum, observing him till he was satisfied cleaning you, asking if you felt okay, comfortable with him. Nodding with a little smile was enough of an answer for him, as he made sure to dress you up in the comfiest oversized t-shirt he owned, and soon you were both getting comfortable under his blanket.

That’s when you decided to finally talk to him about the whole situation.

“So—” you started, slight awkwardness in your voice as Heeseung turned to look at you, his face practically shining.

“Uh—why did you like—hate me? Or did whatever you did to—”

“Woah woah, calm down, baby,” he said, clearly noticing the panic in your voice.

You were never the one to confront.

“I never hated you, how could I? You just ignored me from the fifth grade and I didn’t know what to do—” he paused, as if ashamed of himself in a way.

“You hated me, Heeseung,” you said, eyes widening at the accusation.

“Me?”

“Yeah, don’t you remember?”

“No,” he dragged, as if trying to think of where it went wrong.

You sat up straighter, wincing slightly due to the obvious soreness between your legs, looking at him, “wow, you really don’t know?”

Heeseung looked lost as ever.

“Fifth grade, the house party? The so-called biggest party of the year? You don’t remember playing truth and dare?” You asked, looking up at him with big eyes which he found so adorable.

“Oh, yeah. That’s the party we went to but then you started ignoring me after it,” Heeseung spoke, wondering what went wrong.

“God, you really are so clueless. We all went together, you and our group, we never really talked much but—but I had a little crush on you—hey! Don’t smirk, so yeah,” you continued and he chuckled.

What you didn’t know was that he was feeling all sorts of giddy deep inside. You liked him? You? The girl he’s always wanted, liked him back?

“You were asked this question in front of every single person we knew,” you said, a sad pout on your face, “to name someone you’d be willing to kiss in that room.”

Heeseung finally understood where you were heading but you didn’t let him interrupt, resting your finger on his lips.

“You know what you said?”

“I didn’t mean it that way—”

“Do you really remember what you said?” Your voice was louder now, a genuine look of disbelief on your face, “you said you’d kiss anyone in that room but me.”

There was haunting silence as you finished your sentence, you tried to sit up, only for your legs to give out as you fell directly into Heeseung’s arms. This shut you up in a second before you gulped and folded your arms, face heating up regardless of the whole situation, which almost felt comical at this point.

Then you started whining and complaining about how humiliating the situation was, a clear sign that Heeseung absolutely hated her and how she had to run away from the party with a heavy heart feeling hurt, as her crush had practically rejected her.

In front of everyone at that.

“Listen to me,” he said, voice deep and eyes earnest as he grabbed your arms, making sure your whole attention was on him.

“You never used to look at me, even then. Whenever I tried to, someone would get in between us. That day—I truly wanted to ask you out.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I do think I said it the wrong way. I knew you hadn’t had your first kiss,” he said, looking elsewhere for a second, “and I knew if I took your name then they’d make me kiss you as the dare right after. I didn’t want our first kiss to be like that, in front of everyone, as a dare.”

“You cannot be serious,” you muttered in complete amusement.

“But you ran out of the party and stopped talking to me altogether so I had to resort to other ways—”

“Like pranking and bothering me?”

“—well, it did help me get your attention, didn’t it?” He smirked, and you scoffed.

“You’re such a duffer, Lee Heeseung,” you chuckled, still not over the fact that all of this hatred, jealousy, pranks, and well, weird but angry arguments, were all based on what?

A misunderstanding.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, him pulling you close as you felt his chest vibrate, chuckling over this ridiculously stupid misunderstanding.

“So, you’ve liked me all along, huh?” He teased, and you pushed him away with a chuckle, mustering a stoic expression.

“Don’t even start, Lee Heeseung. You have been bothering me because you liked me but didn’t have the balls to say it!” You laughed and he looked offended.

“Excuse me?” He raised his eyebrow, tickling you all over with a smile as you squirmed, laughing uncontrollably before hitting on his arm a few times.

“Wait—wait! I have to tell you something,” you said, trying to sit up again.

“Yeah, princess?” He whispered.

“So, about what happened—”

“God, you look so pretty,” Heeseung said out of nowhere, staring at you with heart eyes, making you smile shyly.

If the past you would look at yourself, you’d probably end up throwing up with how cheesy it looked, yet right now, in the moment, everything felt right with Heeseung.

“Anyway.” You shook your head before looking at him sheepishly, “remember when Beomgyu came home right?”

Heeseung frowned at the mention of his name.

“We—didn’t have sex,” You let out.

“What?” He practically exclaimed, “he didn’t touch you? You didn’t do anything? But I heard—”

“Yeah he was bothering me so I tickled him and he moaned—but wait, you were listening to us? Eavesdropping?” You asked, “oh you were that jealous? Couldn’t help but listen pathetically from behind the closed doors—”

He shut you up by kissing you again, not stopping as you pulled him closer with a smile.

“You’re crazy,” Heeseung breathed out and you knew he meant it in a good way.

“And you’re mine,” you smiled, gently rubbing your nose against his.

“So fucking yours.” He mirrored your expression, pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

At that moment, you truly felt happy.

And that’s all that mattered.

Chapter 10: I saw it coming.

It’s baffling.

Transitioning from your so-called enemies to future potential lovers. The bickering is still there, however, now it results in a passionate makeout session and more.

Apparently Heeseung was hellbent on fucking you in every corner of your house, till everyone came back that is. He wouldn’t even sleep in separate rooms, sticking by your side as if his life depended on it, even offering to shower with you saying—“it saves water” only for him to fuck you in there.

It was surprising each time Heeseung acted cheesy in front of you, making food for you, only to feed you with his own hands. He, the one who acted all tough and nonchalant in front of others, was the same guy who begged you for cuddles, head pats, kisses.

You had never thought he would ever be willing to sit down and watch Barbie movies with you but yet again, he proved you wrong. He was so loving, as if it came naturally to him, which was a surprise given he never had a girlfriend before.

He had the biggest pout on his face as you laughed with your whole heart, holding the couple keychain Heeseung insisted you have. As cheesy as it got, you loved it, and he loved seeing you smile.

Especially when he was the one who made you smile.

“Does this mean we’re dating now?”

“W—what? Are we not?” Heeseung asked, slightly taken aback and you chuckled.

“Well, you didn’t ask me to be your girlfriend yet,” you mumbled.

“Oh, okay then let me do it right now,” he said, getting down on one knee with the keychain in his hand, “will you, Y/N, make me the happiest man alive and let me be your boyfriend?” He asked, with glittering eyes.

You rolled your eyes affectionately, “you’re so cute, Lee Heeseung, and yes, I allow you to be my boyfriend,” you smiled, pecking his lips softly.

However, being so engrossed in your own little world now, you both forgot something highly important that was going to happen today.

Your friends were literally standing outside the apartment, opening the door, as you and Heeseung casually sat on the couch, practically eating each other’s faces off.

Safe to say, the reaction was no less than explosive, especially the scream that left their mouths, a look of pure horror gracing their faces, your expression mirroring their own, as if you got caught doing something illegal.

Everyone was shocked, minus Sunghoon, who simply leaned against the door with his arms folded and a knowing smirk on his face.

“Told ya they’d be fucking by the time we come back.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!

permanent taglist: @jaeminvore @macaroonff @ajayke-reads @lunalovesstories @deobitifull

@celeste-hoon @mari-oclock @kpoprhia @ikeuizm @woniebae

@lalalalawon @blessedcursd @skzenhalove @heesuncore @seuomo

@kyurizeu @tobiosbbyghorl @jezzebear @jaehoonii @itsgivingitalian

@bunhoons @ma-riiii @addictedtohobi @heeliopheelia

@haanigurl @kaykay11sworld @glitterjay @skzooluvr

#fic : only if you say yes #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #kpop smut #smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #enha smut #heeseung fanfic

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tinystarbites · 3 months ago

Text

accidents pt. II | Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops pt.II The Reckoning /j, this is basically just 10k words of porn with feelings yikes

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst (still Spencer feeling he isn't good enough 😔), EMOTIONSSS, Spencer STILL loves you so much, he gets a hug, and so much more!, talk about sex, detailed asking for CONSENT (be safe people), sex (piv), some frottage, uhhh what else, dirty talk, some dom/sub understones (sub!Spencer ofc), little bit allusion to subspace, Spencer discovers so many kinks in this awww we're so proud of you bby (mentioned kinks: praise kink, squint of liking being embarrassed, tiiny bit of a voyeristic thing), also I made him a virgin whoops so virgin!Spencer, proofread but prolly not perfect lol. Tell me if I'm missing any tags I am so tired

(also, Spencer will be bisexual in all of my Spencer fics because I am not a coward like the writers were and I will honour Spencer the way he was intended to)

HERE you can read pt. I, I do recommend it to have context and all but do whatever you want lmao I'm not your mother anyway have fun being completely wrecked like I was while writing this!! also thanks so so MUCH for 400 followers and almost 2k likes on the first part, you guys are the best and I hope you enjoy this fic as a thanks!!<333

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Spencer’s never sprung from his bed faster in his life before.

His heart is a jackhammer in his chest, chipping away at his ribs one bone splitter at a time because-

It’s you. In front of his door. And Spencer is so hard it hurts but- he can’t just-

“Spencer?”

He sucks in a haggard breath, hands reaching up and messing up his hair even more. His thoughts are everywhere and nowhere at once and he just needs to- needs just a moment to-

“Uh, yeah, just a second!”, he calls back, voice scratchy and used from the- the moaning Jesus Christ because he was about to come with your mental image and he somehow, magically, managed to apparently conjure you up in front of his door with his pathetic pining and oh god-

He has to- ugh- has to wash his hands and make it go away and –

“Okay, I’ll just…chill with that weird plant here.”

An overwhelmed whimper slips past his lips and he just, stands there for at least another five seconds before something in his mind snaps back into place and he rushes to the small, adjacent bathroom of his room.

After he thoroughly washed his hands, his erection has flagged off enough so that it’s not the first thing greeting you when he opens the door and thank god for that.

And oh- seeing you after doing that actually knocks the wind out of his lungs because you are just so goddamn lovely it makes Spencer want to do stupid, stupid things like cry or kiss you or spontaneously combust into a million pieces.

For once, he does something okay-ishly sensible though.

“Hi.”

You look at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement or scepticism, he doesn’t know for sure. Your eyes hold mirthful sparkles in them when he finally manages to meet your gaze, so he settles for the former of the two options.

You’re not wearing your work clothes anymore. Rather, you went for a cozy looking, oversized sweater and funkily patterned leggings. Your fashion sense outside of work always reminded Spencer of Penelope’s.

“Hi to yourself”, you chuckle, “Can I come in or are you too busy reading ten books at once?”

Spencer feels himself flush under your gentle teasing.

“Only seven books. But, yes, of course you can come in.”

He turns out of the way, creating room for you to pass him into his room. As soon as you are inside, you don’t hesitate to jump onto his bed and flop on your back with your arms spread wide.

Spencer’s breath hitches and he has to do some very extensive mental gymnastics to supress all the inappropriate thoughts from escaping the box he banished them into. Controlling his body’s response to seeing you in the same bed he was just jacking off in is… a different story. He pulls down the hem of his shirt as discreetly as possible, as he takes a seat next to you. Making sure that there is not too much distance between you two as to raise any suspicion and make it obvious he’s trying to get some distance between you, but also enough space so that he isn’t enticed to do anything unwise. Like, reach out and feel your warmth underneath his fingers. Or the softness of your skin. Or anything else really.

The more seconds tick by in which neither of you say anything, the more nervous Spencer becomes. He starts fiddling around with his fingers, aborting more than one move to steal a glance at your face to see what you’re thinking.

“Spencer”, you then finally say, voice kind of pout-y and if that didn’t make Spencer whip his head around to face you, the next thing you say for sure does. “Do you hate me?”

“Wha-“, he sputters your name, “No- no! Of course, I don’t- whe- why would you think that?”

You let out an exasperated groan, moving around until you are lying on your side, head propped up on your arm and frowning up at him. “Because you’ve been acting hella weird these last few days and you won’t tell me whyyyy”, you drag out the last syllable, pout on your lips and Spencer has to look up at the ceiling or else he’s just going to confess everything without second thought and that will definitely not happen.

“I haven’t been acting weird, really, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You remain silent again and Spencer feels the judging glare you send his way without having to look at you. Yes, he has been acting weird, he knows that, but you can never ever know the reason why tha-

“Is it because you saw my nudes?”

Spencer almost breaks his neck with how fast he whips his head down to look at you again. A strangled noise escapes him without permission and what. What.

“Because, that would actually explain so much, especially the way you’ve been acting and really, that’s probably on me because I’ve always been telling myself to put them behind a password block but I somehow always manage to forget that because apparently I have only one braincell left that’s stuck spinning on the deep-fried version of Funky Town and well, I guess I’m glad it was you that found them and not someone else and-“

“What? No, no, I didn’t- What- that’s not- what-“, Spencer cuts off your rambling with a horrified, screeched version of a protest because how- how could you have guessed what’s going on with just one try? Is Spencer so- so absolutely besotted with you that he’s so obvious? Spencer is so very confused and overwhelmed with whatever the hell is going on, he kind of misses the slight twitching of your mouth.

“Come on, Spencer. I said it’s fine and basically my own fault. Uh- well, actually… sorry. Because, well, that’s probably not very work-appropriate… I will pay for your therapy session, just send me the bill.”

Spencer thought he’d reached the limits of confusion seconds ago but apparently, he hadn’t. What. What are you even saying?

“Therapy sessions?”

You just- ignore him.

“Oh, also, please don’t tell Hotch? He’ll be pissed, despite me literally just doing hot-girl shit, y’know-“

Oh, Spencer cannot take it anymore.

He says your name and, “Stop, please, please, just-“

You snap your mouth shut, pulling your lips between your teeth and Spencer definitely doesn’t miss the way you have to force your mouth to stay still this time.

“Are you- is this a joke?”, Spencer asks, frazzled and desperate and so confused he just wants to bury his head under the duvet and never come out again. Because if you don’t actually know but- are just joking around, oh Spencer is overwhelmed, alright.

Your expression changes into something panicked then. “No, no, Spencer, sorry. I’m- sorry. Of course I’m not joking, I’m so sorry. It’s just a little bit too easy to tease you. Sorry.” You actually look apologetic now, lips downturned and frowning slightly.

“Not joking- so… so, you know?”, there’s something big and anxious pressing inside of Spencer’s chest. The urge to hide away and never face daylight again intensifies tenfold. He’s flushing before he realizes, hands trembling and breathing a bit too fast to be considered normal. Oh god, you know, you actually know, you’re going to- you’re never going to speak with him again you are probably here to tell him how weird and- and-

You must’ve noticed the frenzy he is thinking himself into, because you reach out with one hand and gently nudge his thigh with one knuckle. “Spencer”, you say, voice serious and steady and not the slightest bit disgusted or harsh and it snaps him out of his anxiety spiral.

“I knew the second I walked back into that room after you basically fled the precinct. I am, really, genuinely, sorry for making you uncomfortable. Like, it wasn’t actually my intention for you to see them. And then, after I realized what… I just wanted to wait and see what you’d do, if you came to talk to me or, well…”

You sigh, the hand that nudged him ruffling through your hair.

“I didn’t handle this situation very well. I’m really sorry. So… “, you trail off, scrunching your nose in that adorable way of yours that makes Spencer want to kiss it until it scrunches even further because you’d laugh and try to fight him off.

“We can just- forget about this. Forget that it ever happened, or-“, you hesitate again.

Spencer feels suddenly breathless. Like he stands in front of a cliff face, seconds before taking the step to send himself careening towards something immeasurably great or devastatingly fatal.

“Or…?”, he breathes, voice small and unsure.

You meet his eyes again after what feels like hours. There’s something intense in them, burning, and it’s like an electric shock to Spencer’s system. He’d give anything for you to keep looking at him like that forever.

“Or”, your hand returns to his thigh, but this time you let your fingers travel along the shape of it and Spencer whimpers. The burning in your eyes intensifies and Spencer feels hot, suddenly, so hot he’s burning with it. “Or we can do something else.”

“Something else?”, Spencer basically croaks because his throat is so dry and it’s difficult for his body to function properly when you are touching him like that.

You hum in agreement. “Whatever you want. You can tell m-“

“You.”

You look a bit startled when he cuts you off with that one, desperate syllable. Startled but also endlessly amused and Spencer just- his mind is apparently turned off, what the-

You laugh quietly, and your eyes soften, and it does something to Spencer that leaves an ach-y feeling in his chest. Oh, he loves you so much he can’t take it.

“Sure. You can have me”, you say simply, as if it’s the easiest thing in the world for you to admit, “Tell me what exactly you want, because I’d give you the world if you asked.”

And suddenly there’s hot pressure behind Spencer’s eyes, at the back of his throat. You’re just- just- amazing and so lovely and so kind to him, no one has ever said something like that to him, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

Spencer blinks up to the ceiling, desperately willing these stupid unwelcome tears away because crying about you treating him kindly is so on the bottom of the list of acting casual about this, so he rather feels than sees you sitting up next to him. Your hand slips from his legs and he feels the loss of your touch as if someone sucked the marrow from his bones. Before he can say something embarrassing like ‘please touch me again’ he feels your hand covering his. It fills him with a heady kind of courage.

“I want…”, Spencer starts, feeling entirely too uncomfortable with having to state his deepest and darkest desires. There’s the old familiar urge to start picking at his nails nagging at him, but you just interlace your fingers with his and start tracing random patterns into the skin there with your thumb. Spencer melts against you and tenses up at the same time because it’s just so- so nice. It feels so nice and Spencer never thought he’d ever get to have things like that with you but you’re here. You’re here, with him, and basically offering Spencer the entire world on a silver platter but it’s still so so unfathomably difficult just saying what he so badly wants.

“You want…?”, you hum slightly, voice soft and so tender as you continue painting patterns on his skin and Spencer would literally die for you. And that’s the entire problem. Spencer doesn’t know if you’d do the same. Well. Maybe not die die for him but. He can’t just sleep with you, and it not meaning anything to you. It would kill him. It would kill him, if after you give him tenderness and pleasure and acceptance in a way he’s never dreamed of receiving, you would go back to normal. Always politely distanced, close, but never close enough and it already twists his chest just thinking of that possibility.

“I just-“, he tries again, but when the words are stuck in his throat, sticky molten sugar that tastes like bile and fear, he pulls out of your grip and buries his face in his hands. He’s so bad at this. He’s the worst. No wonder he’s never had- had something like Morgan has, one night stand after one night stand (not that he particularly wants that, god no, but just-) because Spencer is just so bad at spilling all of the things that plague his gut and keep his thoughts in overdrive at night. No wonder he’s never even had a girlfriend or boyfriend before.

“Hey, hey, Spencer”, he feels your hands cupping his own, still over his face. Not taking them away, but just – there. “It’s alright, penguin, we can always come back to this another time. I’ll wait.”

Spencer’s face crumples and his breath hitches a little because- penguin. That’s the frankly ridiculous nickname you’ve been using for him ever since he apparently once looked like one, with that white scarf and knee-length black coat he wore during one of your cases where a blizzard surprised not only the team, but also the unsub. Spencer, like most of you, wasn’t prepared and thus, had to make do with what the helpful officers provided them with. And well, Spencer drew the penguin stick it seemed.

It’s ridiculous but sweet and it always makes him feel so loved, loved by you, because it’s adorable and theirs and he just loves it irrationally much, okay? And also, penguins are just really fascinating because-

“Did you know that most penguins live monogamously? The Emperor penguin is actually one of the only ones that mate seasonally, they only have one mate per breeding season. But most others have a mate for life, like, like swans and bald eagles.”

Before Spencer even opened his mouth, he was aware of the fact he was going to ramble on about some unimportant stuff. It’s always like this, it always feels like a breath he’s been holding in for too long, like an itch somewhere in his weird brain that only stops when he opens his mouth and infodumps and he cannot stop it. No matter how consciously he is telling himself to cut it out or screaming at himself to shut the fuck up you weirdo, it’s unavoidable. As soon as his brain latches onto a statistic or a fact it is reminded of, it’s an unstoppable force.

Like now. He is kicking himself. Why, oh why can’t he ever be normal? He feels himself flushing bright red from embarrassment and shame and frustration. He can’t believe he is rambling about birds while- while whatever the hell you two are doing right now. While in the middle of a conversation that started out with you confronting him about him seeing your nudes, jesus christ.

Spencer is about to suffocate himself with a pillow when you let out a graceless snort.

It confuses Spencer so much he lowers his hands to look at you and- oh.

Your eyes are shining with something that looks so close to what he would call affection, and it makes him want to bawl his eyes out and at the same time, smile so hard there’ll be laugh lines on his cheeks for the rest of the week.

“Well, that fits perfectly then”, you say, and Spencer doesn’t understand.

“What do you mean?”

You smile just a little wider, a little more teasingly but in a nice way, in a kind way and it leaves Spencer’s chest blooming with warmth.

“If you’re my penguin, I’ll be your penguin.”

Youryouryouryouryour-

Spencer feels entirely braindead. Only the fact that you called him yours registers. Because yes. Yes. Spencer is so yours he’d gladly let you make every decision for him from now on in his life and yes. That’s not exactly a very normal thing to think. Or to want. Spencer doesn’t care. He’s never felt normal about you for a day in his life and he definitely won’t start now.

“You- you mean- like, as, as mates?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust. “If you want to call us that, I think I’ll take back my offer.”

It punches a giggle out of Spencer, sudden and kind of light-headed. He watches your face break into a wide grin.

“But you- you’d like that?” You’d like me?

You pull a face, sniffing in a nonchalant way, direct your face to your nails in fake disinterest.

“Sure. Whatever.”

And Spencer can’t help himself. He sobs out a laugh- laughs out a sob or, whatever that weird noise he makes is, because you’re so ridiculous and he loves you more than anything in the world.

You roll your eyes, fondly, shake your head slightly.

“Of course, Spencer. I’d like that very much because I like you a very unnormal amount. Literally. On my knees, crying, screaming etcetera”, you say just like that, smiling just like that.

Spencer feels like he’s dreaming. He must be. There’s no other explanation for it. He just can’t wrap his head around the fact that you could like him. You. You’re so, so lovely and amazing and you deserve everything good in this world and Spencer is just. Spencer.

“You- you like me? Me?”, Spencer can’t hide the incredulous tone that seeps into his questions because you like him?

There’s no traces of humour in your eyes anymore. Your eyes look painfully honest, face suddenly serious, and it steals Spencer’s breath away.

You lean closer to him again, grabbing his hands with yours. Your gaze bores itself into his, intense and steady and he can’t look away. “Spencer. I know it’s- I know life has been hard on you for way too long. And that leaves its marks on you. That’s fine. It’s human. But. You do not deserve any less love because of that, do you understand me? Of course I like you, what isn’t there to like? You’re kind and funny and sweet and just so- Spencer. You’re so lovable and it kills me to know that you don’t see how you are so worthy of being loved.”

Oh.

You can’t just- can’t just say things like that and expect him to not cry a little. Can’t expect him to act completely nonchalant and cool about all of this when you say things like that to him. Are you trying to kill him? Because it sure does feel like that.

Spencer is so completely at a loss. He doesn’t know what to say to that- not to mention what to do. How do you always do this? How can you see straight to the hidden, bruised core of him, littered with all these ugly and bad things and. Just. Figure out what to say to strike him exactly there.

It should scare him, being known so deeply. It should, but it doesn’t because it’s you. You are warmth and acceptance like his favourite place in front of a fireplace, book in hand and rain gently knocking against windows. You are quiet mornings at work, you are soft rays of sunlight in his hair, you are gentle hands helping you up when you fall and bruise your knees. You are –

A touch to his cheek startles him. He opens his eyes – when did he close them? – to your fingers brushing some stray tears away, so softly as if he’s something precious, something to be held delicately. That thought sends new tears spilling down his cheek. He can’t believe this is affecting him so much, so completely he simultaneously feels like he is going to shatter and be stitched back together again.

He never knew he needed this so much.

“Sorry for making you cry, penguin. I didn’t think this discussion about my lack of nude etiquette would get this emotionally damaging”, you say, voice hushed in the big silence of the room, a small smile on your lips and eyes so kind.

Spencer snorts, despite himself. This has really been a very bizarre evening. He feels almost drunk on the weirdness of it all, on the rollercoaster that his emotions have ridden all evening. That’s probably why he does what he does next.

“Neither did I, especially after you interrupted me while I wa-“

Spencer shuts his mouth so fast he clicks his teeth together, eyes wide and suddenly horrified. He- what-

Why?

Why can’t Spencer ever keep his big mouth shut? Is he completely and utterly insane?

There’re alarm bells going off somewhere in Spencer’s head and a concerning warmth settling deep in his stomach when your grin takes on a slightly devilish edge, one he knows all too well and. And. Oh. He’s in trouble. So much trouble. Why did he have to say that?

“After I interrupted you while?”, you prompt him, eyes electric and hot and oh god-

Spencer is so dumb. An idiot. Of the highest order. High IQ, where?

“Nothing”, he says, voice high-pitched and rushed and he curses himself and his ability to act everything else but nonchalant. He’d be the worst actor of all time.

“Spencer.”

The tone of your voice rearranges something in his neurons. He can feel himself sit up just that little bit straighter, can feel his mind buzz at the edges. He’s never felt like this before.

He loves it.

“Hmm?”, is all he gets out. Trouble, so much trouble.

Suddenly you’re standing up, away from him and Spencer wants to whine because you should stay there next to him, forever fixed to his side. He doesn’t have to despair long, because you take one of your knees and gently nudge his legs apart with it and okay. Okay. That definitely didn’t just send Spencer’s mind reeling. That wasn’t just totally the hottest thing that ever happened to him.

You slot yourself between his legs as if you own that space and. In his humble opinion, you do. You so do. Spencer is willing to give you a map of his entire body and a marker and tell you to please demarcate every part of him you want. He’d give it to you, no questions asked.

He is looking up at you, at your burning eyes that still hold something so soft in them that makes the lump in his throat bigger again. And by god, Spencer just needs to hear you say it again-

“You like me?”

You move closer to him, lifting one hand and placing it underneath his chin. Your thumb traces along his jaw and Spencer feels like he is going to burst into a million embarrassed pieces.

“Yes”, you say simply, but the way you say it. Spencer can’t help but shiver and exhale shakily. He feels so warm, everywhere. His skin burns where your fingers are touching him. He never wants this to stop.

“You- You want me?”

Your hand grips his face a little stronger, your other fingers splaying over and down his throat and there’s a high noise coming from somewhere and there’s goosebumps on his body everywhere and oh, wait- it’s him. The noise. Well, how embarrassing but. He doesn’t care. Nope. Not at all.

…Okay maybe a little. His face feels warm, suddenly, warmer than the rest of him and yes. He’s blushing, okay?

“Spencer”, the way you say his name it- god, “I want you. I said it before, but. I will give you anything. Tell me what you want, Spencer, and you will get it from me.”

Your eyes are so dark and your voice so low and Spencer actually whines and. He’s hard again, so hard, because he didn’t come before and now, he’s even more pent-up and his thoughts are a mess, but you haven’t even touched him more than this and he’s already so worked up from you just saying these things to him-

“I want you”, Spencer pants, currently finding no other English words in the dictionary of his mind. And well. Emily was right about him. IQ slashed to zero when pretty person do thing.

He watches you take a deep breath, as if to steady yourself, as if this whole thing is affecting you as much as it affects him but that’s- ridiculous. Impossible. Because. Have you seen yourself?

“I know that, Spencer. But what do you want from me? Do you want me to kiss you?”, you ask, face suddenly so close to his Spencer feels your breath fan over his skin, and he whimpers because yes he wants that wants that- “Do you want me to touch you more?”, your other hand grabs his side, gentle but just a little bit roughly and Spencer is suddenly vividly reminded of the fact how strong you are and he feels kind of lightheaded-

“Do you want me to fuck you, Spencer?”

Spencer is going to pass out. And die. And moan and say, “Please yes yes yes”. Maybe not in that particular order.

“Okay, angel, anything you want”, you say, smiling softly at him as if he’s the best thing in the world and angel. Angel. Angel.

Before he’s even started to process you calling him angel, he sees a glint in your eyes, that edge in your smile again and before he knows what’s happening, you’re kissing him.

You’re kissing him and it’s- everything.

Your mouth is soft against his, and Spencer’s insides twist and flutter and his brain is kind of lagging behind, but he wants to be closerclosercloser-

It’s so good Spencer completely blanks on everything. There’s nothing in his mind except the feel of your lips moving against his. There’s no insecurity, no embarrassment tainting this moment even though this is literally like, only the sixth kiss or so of Spencer’s life and he has no idea what he is doing. But it’s so good.

A noise somewhere between a moan and a whimper escapes him when you lick into his mouth and Spencer’s soul almost leaves his body. He feels you shudder where you are pressed together, chest to chest.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe against his lips, in between wet, hot, kisses. You rub your nose against his, eyes closed.

“Hmm?”, he hums, his voice somewhere in Canada or wherever. His mouth is too busy smiling so wide it hurts, anyways. No time for articulating anything.

“You’re amazing, Spencer, amazing.”

And he wants to shake his head, no, because the only one amazing here is you. But it’s impossible to disagree with you when your mouth has returned to his in a way that is probably ruining him for anyone else. (He’s okay with that.)

You peck him on the lips once, twice more, before you press your lips against his jaw, exactly where you had your fingers before. Your hands are basically the only thing holding Spencer up in a sitting position, because he feels like molten chocolate in your hands. Muscles apparently forgetting to do their job and well. Who can blame them? Spencer has stopped thinking in proper sentences the moment you had walked into his life, so. Only a matter of time until you broke the rest of him as well.

You kiss his neck and Spencer gasps. It’s really been a hot minute - three years, one hundred, twenty-one days and twenty hours to be exact – the last time he made out with someone. Everything feels heightened on his heated skin, especially you opening your mouth against him and licking him oh god-

It almost feels like a reward when you gently bite at his skin next. Spencer almost screams.

“So good, so so good for me”, he hears you whisper into the skin of his neck and this time, Spencer does make a noise. Because yes. He wants that. Be good for you. That’s the only thing in his fuzzy mind that feels clear, that feels graspable.

He can see your pupils dilate. Can see the wicked lilt to your lips. “You like being good for me, don’t you, angel?”

ANGEL. Spencer is nodding his head before he knows he does so. “Yes, yes.”

“Fuck”, he hears you breathe against him and it’s strange, seeing the effect he has on you. Did really he do that? “I can’t believe how incredible you are, sweetheart.”

And you need to stop. If you keep calling Spencer these things- he’s pretty sure he won’t survive this. The team would need to find another genius to solve cases with. His cactus Greg would dry out and wilt and die. You and Penelope would need to find another victim to send confusing memes to.

“Did you like my pictures, Spencer?”, you then ask and that’s so not fair. You can’t just ask him that while he’s so utterly in your hands that he’s sure he’d tell you about every little fantasy he’s had about you ever if you asked.

Because Spencer wants to be good, feels that need so deeply in his bones, he nods frantically. “Yes, I- I liked them.”

At the same time the words leave his mouth, something feels wrong. There’s an ugly thing twisting in his stomach, so unpleasant it momentarily occludes the high-octane bliss-fuzz fogging up his mind.

You notice the shift in mood almost immediately. “What’s wrong, angel?”

And well. It’s just- that guilt. Of not saying anything to you about Spencer seeing your nudes, of just ogling you like that without your permission. That wasn’t very good of him. Actually, the opposite. He’s been bad and he hates that. Hates that so severely that there’s suddenly tears on his cheeks and oh no. That’s mortifying. Who cries before sex? Jesus Christ he’s such a virgin it is genuinely embarrassing.

“I’m- I’m sorry”, he stutters, a little bit hysterical, creating distance between you, arms slung around himself, “I should’ve, should’ve said something, I’m so so sorry, I’m the worst friend and now I’m- I’m crying, oh god, I’m so sorry-“

“Hey, hey hey whoa. Spencer, darling. Penguin. Look at me, please?”

But he shakes his head. He doesn’t deserve to look at you again. What was he even thinking? He was- so creepy and now- now-

Two warm hands grab his face and then Spencer is looking into your eyes again. He squeezes his own shut, but all that it does is send more tears spilling over his cheeks and he’s so fucking stupid-

“Baby, please.”

Spencer sobs.

Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. That’s the best thing he has ever heard but he doesn’t deserve these things.

“Of course you deserve it, silly goose”, you say and oh. He’s said that out loud.

Your thumbs brush over his cheeks and Spencer can’t not lean into your touch, despite everything. Because that’s just the way it always is. He’s drawn to your warmth and tenderness like a moon revolves around its planet.

“I thought we’d established that it was an accident? And if it was someone’s fault, then mine, because no password, remember?”

Spencer opens his eyes. The deep affection swimming in yours makes him sob again. He’s a mess. A crying, horny mess and Spencer definitely fucked this up. Why does Spencer always ruin the few good things in his life?

“Spencer, Spencer. Hey. It’s okay, I promise you. We wouldn’t be doing this, if it wasn’t, okay?”, you kiss his nose. “Do you want to lay down, maybe?”

He nods, not really thinking clearly. He moves up the bed, under the covers and curls up on his side. He waits for you to get up from the bed, for you to walk over to the door and leave. To say that this was a mistake, he was a mistake. To say that you take back everything you said to him in the last half hour.

He’s not just a little surprised to feel your weight dip the mattress, to feel even more sudden warmth engulf him when you spoon him from behind. You start tracing swirly patterns over the skin of his arm and he feels goosebumps spread all over his body.

Some minutes tick by, you still holding him, when his tears have finally dried up. He doesn’t remember crying so much in one day. Spencer feels miserable.

“Do you still like me?”, he asks, and yes, it’s pathetic and stupid but. He doesn’t care if you never have sex or if you’re not going to be more than his friend now. Because the thought of you not being in his life in any capacity anymore- just no.

He can feel you freeze and take in a sharp breath. “Wha- Spencer. Of course, I still like you. I don’t care what we do, I just want to be with you. In any way you’ll have me.”

You sound so understanding and sincere and actually confused about his fear as if you’d never even think of not liking him anymore and and and-

And something in him just- snaps. He wants you, needs you so much he’s going to die if he doesn’t-

He shuffles and turns in your arms until he’s face to face with you. You look at him, eyebrow raised in question but so beautiful and lovely and you still like him-

“I want you so bad”, he says and then he presses his lips against yours again.

You respond immediately, low moan escaping you and Spencer is greedy, he wants to hear more, feel more, feel everything with you.

He’s kissing you as if he’s going to die if he ever stopped, which, yes, he absolutely would, and you kiss him back as if you can’t live without him. It makes everything become hazy again, like before, and every bad feeling suddenly feels eons away. Like he’s underwater, floaty and relaxed. Safe, he feels safe in the way you kiss him and hold him. Like you always do.

You move your kisses to his neck, sucking and biting and Spencer is moaning and moaning and can’t stop and then suddenly, you’re gone, what –

“Spencer, Spencer, wait”, you pant, out of breath and flushed and he wants to cry again, “Sorry, sorry I just-“

You frame his face in your hands, a little bit roughly. “I’m so sorry for making this so hard, you’re being so good for me, but Spencer. Have you done this before?”

Somewhere in the fog that is his minds, Spencer finds his voice. It’s high and airy but he doesn’t care. “No, no, I haven’t.”

He watches you take a deep breath, feels your fingers digging into his skin a little bit more.

“Tell me. Do you want this, Spencer?”, your voice is shaking as if you need to keep yourself in check and Spencer can’t believe he’s getting to see you like this.

“Yes”, he says because he can’t ever want anything else, and, “Please make me feel good.”

You inhale sharply, your grip on his face bordering on painful. “Spencer, you’re incredible, amazing, the best- I’ll make you feel good, okay? I’ll make you feel so good because you deserve it.”

“Yes”, Spencer is not ashamed of how whiny he sounds. No. He’s owning it now. This is his thing now, okay? He’ll gladly be your pathetic wet cat, or whatever the term was that you sometimes use to describe him with. Whatever it even means.

“Good”, you grin, and then you push on his shoulder hard and he’s on his back. And you. Sitting on top of him, thighs on either side of him. Straddling him exactly where he wants you most and he exhales a needy ‘ah’. His hypothesis of liking being manhandled is… yet to be disproven. He’s discovering so many things about himself today.

Pleasure radiates in waves from where you’re passively giving pressure to his hard cock and yeah okay. This is good. Amazing. He’s never felt better. But-

“Please.”

“Please what, angel?”

“More?”

“More what?”

Your fingers trailing along his throat and jaw, down his chest and teasing ghost-like over his nipples are not really helpful in finding the right words to what he wants. You take pity on him.

“More touch?”

Spencer nods his head, so fast he almost gets dizzy because he’s at that point again where everything feels liquid, hazy, a little bit unreal. So, speaking is already quite the task.

You smile at him as if he just solved the most difficult equation. “Doing so good, Spencer. Incredible.”

He moans. Okay. Another hypothesis to add to his ever-growing list of scientific discoveries today.

“Where do you want touch, Spencer? Here?”, there’s hands in his hair. He shakes his head.

“Hmm… Here?”, fingers drawing circles on his chest and yes, that feels nice, so nice but he wants-

“Here?”, you ground your hips down and jesus-

“Yes!”, Spencer almost chokes on the sound. Pleasure shoots up his spine and he whimpers. “Please.”

You exhale shakily, looking flush. “Okay. Because you ask so nicely.” There’re two little taps on his lower stomach through his shirt. “Do you want to take this off first? Or no?”

The way you give him the chance to say no- the way you respect his autonomy so deeply-

It’s basic human decency, yes, but it’s also the hottest thing and Spencer feels so valued and understood and safe that he’s not even hesitating when he mutters a quiet yes.

You help him sit up because he’s currently not really heir over his body like he usually is. Help his head out of the shirt and thread his arms out. And then, he’s half naked in front of you and suddenly, the doubt and insecurity that’ve been so quiet so far are back with a vengeance.

The urge to cover himself is so big it’s impossible to stop his arms from wrapping around himself.

Spencer knows he’s not ugly. He’s not that bad looking actually. Can’t be too bad if Morgan keeps insisting on calling him pretty boy, even though Spencer sometimes still has the sneaking suspicion that he’s teasing him. But his friend wouldn’t be so cruel.

But other people like to be. Pipe-cleaner, leek, straw, big-eyes. He’s heard it all before. He has matured enough and grown into himself so that these things don’t bother him like they used to. But still. Still. These things are arduous to scrub from under his skin.

Your gaze on him though- he’s never felt so, cleaned from all of these mean words before. You look- you look reverent while mapping his skin and maybe that’s the reason why he lowers his arms again.

“Spencer. You’re a dream”, you say, almost in trance. Almost as if you’re hypnotized by him, and he’s flushing. But. Being watched so intently, being admired like that. He feels his dick give an indigent twitch against your clothed core. Another thing for the list.

“So impatient”, you tut and Spencer flushes more. He thinks he’s waited long enough for this. But he doesn’t say that. If you stopped now- he would definitely combust spontaneously.

You lean down, over him. Hands trailing along his sides like you did earlier, but without any clothes between your skin and his. It’s almost too much. And not enough. He feels electrified, where you touch him. His heart is hammering against his ribs so hard you must be able to feel it. His stomach is in knots, fluttery. He’s never felt more alive.

You connect your lips to his throat, placing kiss after kiss along the arched length of it. Follow the same path with your tongue and Spencer whines, curves up against you a little. Everything feels so good Spencer is floating in it.

You shift your attention to his collarbones next, kissing but then gently biting and Spencer feels the indents of your teeth all the way through to his back and he hopes, wants, you to sink them into him so deep they’ll leave marks. So that he carries the evidence of this with him for the rest of this case, so that there’s absolutely no more doubt to who he belongs to. That thought alone makes him whimper, makes him feel that tiny little bit more lost in you.

You start kissing along his chest, down his stomach. Open mouthed, wet kisses and Spencer shivers when the places you put them feel cold after because of your spit. The lower you get, the noisier he becomes and at one point, Spencer would’ve been embarrassed. Well, he kind of is, but he’s also so turned on that the embarrassment doesn’t feel as stifling like usual. Rather, in a weird way, it makes everything hotter, and he does not own enough brain capacity right now to decipher that. But he does add it to the list.

When your face is dangerously close to the waistband of his pyjama, Spencer tenses, holds his breath. Being shirtless is one thing, but… well.

“It’s okay, Spencer. We only do as much as you feel comfortable with”, you murmur, giving a small peck to the left of his belly button. You calmingly follow his sides with your hands, smiling at him with so much affection in your eyes that Spencer feels speechless, breathless, until the tension releases his muscles again and he melts into the sheets.

“’m just…”, he tries, he really tries so hard to tell you that he wants this more than anything he’s ever wanted but that he just feels… insecure.

You kiss his stomach again. “How about we only take off the pyjama? For now? If you want to take off your underwear too later, we can still do that.”

That… that’s actually a good idea. So, he nods.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, yes. That’s- good.”

You look so proud of him. “You’re so good, Spencer. Perfect.”

He moans embarrassingly loud. He really should be more concerned about this. About how you are basically pulling him apart, thread by thread and he just lets you, willingly. How you know which threads to pull to reduce him to a sweaty mess in what felt like 0.2 seconds.

There’s a finger dipping beneath the waistband, moving back and forth along the newly exposed skin. Your eyes watch him intently, almost predator-like. A question is in there somewhere as well and Spencer nods again.

You help him lift his hips, help him pull down the pants. Spencer is kind of busy kicking his legs a little to shake them off completely but when he looks back and down himself to where you are hyper-focused on the outline of his cock through the thin fabric he blushes.

Even more when he notices the big, dark blue splotch in front of his underwear. That’s definitely never happened before. How embarrassing.

When you look up at him again, you’re also flushed. Eyes dark, wide, voice kind of unsteady. “Spencer, Spencer, can I?”

“Please”, and then you palm him with your hand, and it feels so good it takes all of his concentration to not come on the spot. He doesn’t know if he’ll survive this until you arrive to the main thing.

It’s not the first time someone has touched him like that, but it is the first time you are doing it, and it already feels better than anything he’s ever felt before. You’re either a wizard or Spencer is just biased because he thinks everything you do is ten times better than the same thing done by someone else.

Probably the first reason.

He has his head angled back, one of his arms thrown over his eyes. If he looked at you now, he’s pretty sure, he’d come. Visual stimulation on top of physical would probably be the end of him. It’s already too much, just feeling your hand move up and down his dick in various pressures. Almost as if you are testing what he likes best, and Spencer is definitely here for it. Definitely. He’s happy to just let you experiment with him until you know all the different ways to drive him mad with pleasure with just a few moves.

Which, you apparently already figured out, judging by the way Spencer can’t form a single coherent thought anymore. It’s already, so good, so freaking good holy shit, and you’re still not touching him. Still a layer of fabric between your hand and him and he kind of- just-

“Take it off?”

You still your hand, looking up at him. You look kind of crazed, almost a little pained. It takes two deep breaths for you to process what he just asked, eyes a little unfocused before they fix Spencer to the bed with an intensity that makes him feel unfocused. “You sure, angel?”

Spencer literally can’t do anything but nod. You stay in your position for some moments longer, before you sigh out a long breath, mumbling something that suspiciously resembles you’re gonna be the death of me. Spencer misses your warmth on top of him the second you hoist yourself up. It’s kind of crazy and destitute of him. You are literally right there but he’s waited for this for so long it feels like he’s suffocating without your weight pressing him down. Which is ironic and also, insane.

Your fingers are gentle, when they move under the stretchy fabric of his underwear. Even gentler when they pull down and down and down until Spencer is entirely naked in front of you.

Oh, he feels so exposed. While he has been the recipient of a mediocre hand job before, it’s been in his trousers. This is kind of the first time someone sees him naked like that, because school locker rooms and his mother don’t count.

He doesn’t dare look at you. If there’s anything akin to disappointment, not to mention disgust on your face- Spencer probably would have to jump out the window, stat. His gaze is frozen on his cock, steadily leaking precum on his stomach (which, embarrassing). He’s abashedly trying to insert himself into your point of view, tries to imagine what you think about seeing him like this. What you might think about his dick, if it’s too short or too thin or if it looks weird, if he should’ve shaved. If his legs look strange and too gangly now, or if his stomach connects to his pubic area wrong or-

“Holy shit”, you say, and Spencer is too curious for his own damn good sometimes, because he can’t force his gaze to stay away from you.

You look at him- like before. Reverent but more, so much more. He almost feels like a deity, the way you look at him. Someone to be awed by, someone that should be worshipped. Spencer feels his already in overdrive heartbeat quicken even more, blood flushing his cheeks so much it leaks down his throat, to his chest.

Spencer would literally kill to have you look at him like this for the rest of his life.

“Holy shit, Spencer”, you repeat, eyes now meeting his, “You’re like- a literal fucking dream. I cannot believe- you’re so beautiful, how are you so beautiful everywhere?”

Spencer whimpers and he needs you to touch him kiss him fuck him anything please now or he will absolutely die from heart palpitations.

Some of his despairing thoughts must’ve come through to you, because the next thing you do is moan, which is the best thing he’s ever heard. Then, you take off your sweater. Second to go is your cropped tank top and you aren’t wearing a bra and good heavens.

Pictures could never compare. Not even Botticelli could’ve adequately committed you to canvas.

Spencer must’ve taken some brain damage from seeing you half naked. He doesn’t remember you taking off the remainder of your clothes, nor does he remember you straddling him again. But, fuck.

Spencer kind of doesn’t use the f-word that often but-

fuckfuckfuckufuckfkcufuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckcufkc-

You’re warm against him, and wet, so freaking wet, and it feels so mind-blowingly good- it’s a miracle he’s still holding on. But-

“Won’t last long”, he gets out, breathy and whiny and just so goddamn fuzzy from pleasure. The world could literally perish right now, and he wouldn’t care. He can’t care, because this is the best thing that ever happened to him and he won’t ever care about anything else ever again other than feeling you, you you you you, against him.

“Spencer, Spencer”, you breathe, gasp, and fuck, the way you keep using his name. “Are you okay? Do you still want this?”

It’s ridiculous you even ask. But the warmth in his chest, the feeling of comfort and safety and ease – because everything with you is so easy, so natural - he feels with the way you look after him-

He feels your thumbs caressing his wet cheeks. You put small, sweet kisses all over his face. Take the time to brush away some of his sweat-sticky hair from his forehead. Place kisses there too. You end with a drawn out, gentle kiss to his lips.

“What do you say, sweetheart?”

There’s really only one way for him to answer that. He trusts you. Plain and simple. There’s no one else he could ever do this with.

“Yes, I want. Please.”

You kiss him again. “So good Spencer, you’re so fucking good to me. I can’t believe you are trusting me with this. You are incredible, angel.”

Spencer doesn’t know how it’s anatomically possible, but he blushes even harder. Also, feels his cock twitch against you because he apparently likes to be called good almost as much as he likes being good. For you. Only you. Jesus Christ.

“Do you have a condom?”, you ask and ah. Well.

“Suitcase”, and wow. First word with more than one syllable since you straddled him the first time. He’s being so brave right now. He deserves a medal. Proof of Being Able to Speak Polysyllabic Words While Getting Fucked (Almost).

There’s humour glistening in your eyes, when you hide a fake gasp behind your hand and say, “Oh my god, Spencer you dog. Can’t believe you planned this entire thing.”

Spencer almost chokes on his own spit. “N-no! I just- uh, like being prepared.”

You grind down a snort, drive your teeth into your lower lip. “In case you accidentally saw your coworker’s nudes and them being down to fuck you about it?"

Oh my god, you’re the most ridiculous person he’s ever met. He can’t stop himself from grinning because seeing you trying to keep your laughter at bay-

“Yes. That.”

“But what if- what if it was Rossi instead of you seeing them? How would’ve your plan worked out then, huh?”, you wheeze, shaking from literal suppressed laughter and Spencer makes a sound like a dying horse.

“Rossi? Rossi?”

“Oh my god, imagine it would’ve been Hotch. He would’ve probably fired me so hard and then called me a week later to disappointed-dad-talk me to come back but to please, refrain from bringing personal files to work in the future.”

Spencer laughs. He’s still rock-hard underneath you, but he’s laughing because that’s what you always do. Being so absurd and silly that he’s shocked to laughter.

He adores you with every fibre of his being.

“What the fuck?”, you ask, incredulous but laughing yourself, “Is my misery amusing to you?”

And Spencer feels like being a little bit of a brat. “Very.”

You flick his nose. Grumble something like I’ll show you misery and then you move your hips against his and Spencer sees stars. Let’s out an embarrassingly high whine.

Ah well. It was still worth it.

“Don’t move”, you order, when you climb down from him to retrieve a condom. Spencer watches you, lets himself look at you. All the times he’s wondered how it would be, how it would feel like, being in this kind of situation with you. He’s never in a million years thought it would feel so familiar. Like you’ve done this before, so many times that it’s just become something normal between you two. He’s actually relaxed. So turned on it feels like he’s going to burst any second, but he’s calm. He feels comfortable, so much so that it doesn’t even matter that it’s the first time he’s doing this and he’s so clueless about all of this.

But he knows, if it’s with you, he never ever has to worry about anything.

“Do you have lube as well?”, you ask, rifling through his suitcase and distracting him from his sappy thoughts.

“Hmm. No, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, angel”, you say while returning to Spencer, and the nickname kind of switches something off again in his brain. Perfect. He’s never going to be able to be normal again about that word.

“We’ll have to get some, for next time. Always feels better with it.”

Spencer hasn’t really registered more than next time next time next time-

He’s pulled out of his daze of knowing your intentions of this not only being a one-off thing, when you straddle him again, a bit lower on his legs. Spencer moans, loud and high, when you grab him by the base and god, fuck, his skin is tingling with anticipation.

With your other hand, you grab the condom and then use your teeth to open the packet, and his cock jumps in your hand. How are you so hot. How does everything you do turn him on so much, what.

He watches you take out the plastic ring as if he’s watching from above, out of his body. He watches as you position the condom over his tip and then pull it down, down and Spencer’s brain must be lagging because he feels everything with at least a two second delay and shit, god, son of a-

“You ready, baby?”

He makes a noise between a sob and a whine. He’s losing his mind. “Please please please-“

“Fuck, Spencer”, you whine, lift yourself up a bit with your legs and then you are sinking down on him, inch by agonizing inch.

It’s so good, it’s so good, you are so warm, so hot, and Spencer can’t stop making noises until your hips are flush to his and he’s inside you.

You let out a loud, drawn-out moan above him. “Fuck, fuck, Spencer. You feel so fucking good, holy shit.”

He feels like he’s one move away from coming. God, oh god, it feels so incredible.

“Can I move? Spencer, please?”, your voice is wrecked, you’re flushed down to your navel, and you’re the best thing he’s ever seen.

“Please please please please”, it’s the only word he remembers how to pronounce.

“Fuck”, you almost sob, lifting yourself almost completely off him. You lower yourself back down again, one swift move, and you both moan.

You pick up the pace a little, fucking him with still languid but purposeful thrusts. Every time his cock sinks back into you, Spencer feels bits and pieces of his sanity crumbling away. He can’t think, can’t speak, his mind so fogged up and fuzzy he’s having troubles remembering who he is. He’s so completely at your mercy he’d let you do anything to him.

That turns him on a worryingly huge amount. List, something about a list somewhere.

“Oh, god, look at you. Spencer, baby, angel. You feel so good inside of me, so good.”

He keens, grabs at your strong thighs bracketing his slim hips. Arches up into you, closerclosercloser-

“You like being good for me, right angel?”, you ask, hips slowing down to a gentle grinding that absolutely drives Spencer insane and he’s too far gone to even nod, “It suits you. Being so wrecked for me, moaning and shaking. God, fuck, you’re divine, Spencer, fuck.”

The pressure behind his cock, low in his stomach, that’s been building all evening, all week, holy shit, it’s too much. Spencer feels delirious, feels your hotness around him, feels your hands pressing his chest down into the bed. He’s going to die it feels so good.

“You going to come for me, Spencer? You gonna be good for me and come inside of me?”

Please please please please- it’s all he can think, all he can feel, because because-

You give a particularly hard thrust and-

Spencer’s coming, moaning and moaning, shaking everywhere. He’s coming and it feels so good, so fucking good. He’s never come so hard in his life before.

He might have blacked out a little. The next time he’s aware of something, it’s you cleaning him with a wet washcloth. Slow, and gentle and Jesus.

“What?”, is the first thing he manages to say, and you snicker beside him. You caress his face, hand running through his hair, down his chest. Peck his lips. You’re both still naked.

“Feeling good?”, you ask and what kind of question even is that. You just fucked the soul from his body, and you ask him-

“I almost died”, he says, tagging your name at the end with an incredulous tint to it.

You snort, setting the washcloth on the nightstand behind you. You lie down close to him, cuddling into his side. “That was the plan.”

“Killing me with sex?”

“Yep. That’s for ogling my nudes without my permission, you creep.”

He says your name again, exasperated but so fucking fond it’s a miracle you’ve never noticed his pining before. You shrug, pull a ‘what can you do face’. Spencer rolls his eyes and then, unceremoniously, flops on top of you.

“Uffff”, you press out. “You’re smothering me, penguin.”

Spencer shrugs and copies the expression you just did. You bark out a laugh.

“Ha! Didn’t know post-sex Spencer is such a cheeky little shit. I’ve created a monster.”

He can’t entirely control his face, some parts of a smile slipping into his features. He does manage to poke out his tongue at you though, before he buries his face in your neck.

Some minutes tick by, you both enjoying the other’s presence and warmth and idleness, before something in his brain-

“Wait-“, Spencer splutters, pushing himself away from you so that he can look at you. “Did you- did you even finish?”

He’s kind of horrified. He was so focused on his pleasure- he- how did he forget? He doesn’t remember you coming and oh no, he’s such an asshole, who doesn’t make sure the other person has come as well and-

“Spencer, Spencer”, you shush him, fingers trailing along his back, and he shivers, eyes rolling back.

“I made myself come right after, don’t worry. You were kind of busy in your post-orgasm, pussy-drunk coma.”

Spencer flushes. “But I wanted to…”

You laugh softly. “You can do whatever to me, next time, sweets. This was about you. We’ll go on a date as soon as we’re back home. Fucking Florida is driving me nuts.”

Oh, he suddenly feels shy. A date? You want to go on a date with him?

“Really?”, he asks, and he hates how insecure he sounds.

You send him an unbelieving look. “Uh, what about the last hour makes you think otherwise? Seriously, Spencer, we need to work on your confidence.”

“Okay”, he mutters, a little bit pout-y and you scoff, pulling him down on top of your chest again.

There, with your hands painting patterns on his back and him completely lost in your warmth and familiarity, Spencer thinks that maybe, Florida isn’t that bad.

Bonus

“So, then. Made any scientific discoveries last night, pretty boy?”

Spencer chokes on his coffee.

“What?”

“Nothing”, his ‘friend’ says, smirking and leaning against his table, “You just seem to have figured out that little problem that’s been keeping that pretty head of yours all messed up.”

Spencer feels himself flush. Stupid body and stupid involuntary, physiological reactions. Morgan picks up on it, of course.

“Ohhhhh, want to share with the class what those discoveries were?”

Briefly, so very briefly, Spencer thinks of his self-compiled list but- no no no no.

“Shut up, Morgan.”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

tags: @sebastiansstanswhore @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @wasitforrevenge @wannabewolf @tommorecommendedfics @winterhi09 @theoraekenslover @chaewondrful @okeyhoezayy @busy-buzzing @laurakirsten0502 @redros3y @trashxqueen @kitty-kei @so-long-daisymay @hayleythecannibal @jsnsnsnszjzj @reeidsluv @kayane28 @moonysreid @desperately-seeking-serotonin @munsonslunchbox @tul1p-mimi @anuttellaa @pinkgomie @elizabethmidnight2017 @evrmorets @cyanidebitsg @bangchansdog @pinterestwhore145 @some-one-yiu-dont-kno @emma-e-a

i hope these work lmao, also let me know if you wanna be on my eternal tag list for any future Spencer fic ;)

#tinywrites #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #tinywrites:accidents #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds x reader

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gojonanami · 1 year ago

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i started writing this fic

mentally prepare yourselves

thinking about the five times nanami almost proposes to you, but he doesn’t. the first time is when you’re first start dating as students and he knows it’s irrational — you’re kids and neither of you know how long you’ll even survive in this world. The second is when haibara dies — he wanted someone to hold onto — and maybe by marrying you he would have a reason, he could make order out of all the chaos and the sadness. But he can’t bring himself to do it. The third time is right before he decides to leave jujutsu tech behind — and you choose to stay — he couldn’t ask you to marry him, not when you wanted to honor haibara’s memory by staying. The fourth time is when you find your back to each other after he chooses to come back. And it’s as if no time has passed as you end up in bed together, your head nestled on his chest — and he can’t remember when he ever felt so right.

And the fifth is when you both get the call for shibuya — he had already bought a ring. He had been waiting for the right time — waiting to retire, to pass this danger into the next generation and maybe it was time. It was finally time to take that vacation with you to Malaysia and propose. And he decided he would, right after this last mission in shibuya.

And he would have.

#am I planning on posting this next week with all the shit going down next episode #yes #I’m so sorry lmao #Laney doesn’t even read / watch Jjk #and I’m making her emotional #sab speaks #nanami kento x you #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader #so #whoops #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento angst

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whytheylosttheirminds · 27 days ago

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home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.��

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus.

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you.

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him.

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip.

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up.

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card.

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy?

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes.

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said.

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.”

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.”

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat.

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you.

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does.

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?”

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down.

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre.

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting.

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes.

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket.

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?”

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field.

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway.

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun.

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail.

“Fuck!”

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?”

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life.

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station.

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love.

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it.

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?”

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.”

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him.

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble.

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat.

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice.

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!”

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off.

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard.

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer.

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!”

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas.

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry.

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention.

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time.

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said,

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

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kimstills · 4 months ago

Text

crazy

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: after one heated and spontaneous night together, aaron can’t seem to get his pretty subordinate (or her pussy) out of his head.

content warnings: smut, 18+, minors do not interact!, pussy!whipped hotch, age gaps, dirty talk, rough unprotected office sex, multiple orgasms, oral (f receiving, mentions of m receiving in the past), choking, hair pulling, ass slapping, groping, some angst if u squint, love confessions and some asshole behavior, hotch is a munch and masturbates in his office.

word count: 6.5k (yea…)

a/n: this may seem a lil out of character for hotch? we all know he’s a professional thru and thru but the point is this is that he’s pussy whipped! also lots of flashbacks in italics whoopsies <3

Aaron was sure he was going crazy.

Or maybe he already was, and he was just starting to feel the effects of his craziness.

Aaron Hotchner, usually poised in a way that unwillingly intimidated others and made them back away from him, was unraveling in a way he had never done so before.

Having a one-night stand with his subordinate, the same subordinate he had been harboring painfully arising feelings for literal years, often led to such a reaction.

He could still recount every single detail from that night, from the moment the tension between you both began building itself up to the moment it actually snapped. It was as if he had everything engraved in his mind; the views he never thought he'd get to see to the things he never thought he would get to feel etched into his brain.

It had all been a blur that night, and a part of Aaron still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you reciprocated his attraction towards you, letting him, not only touch you but also fuck you.

You two had stayed up late in your shared hotel room only to talk, really. After you and the rest of the team had wrapped up a somewhat good case, you only wanted to rant to one another. Aaron knew that you weren’t a ‘whiskey girl,’ or whatever it was that you said, but he had offered you a drink either way.

Neither one of you had even gotten tipsy, so he couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol. But the connection had always been there, though, one thing finally leading to another and all the unsaid words and stolen glances between you both began to surface.

It was as if everything you both silently felt for another was starting to seep through and everything that hindered you from telling each other no longer mattered.

It had felt so hot, from the way you held him close with your legs wrapped around his waist to the messy yet passionate kisses you shared, your bodies connected beneath.

It was everything Aaron envisioned it to be. But, as magical and heated as it was, he was the one to have ended things before they even had a chance at starting.

The morning after, as soon as you had both untangled your bodies from one another and got dressed to get back home to Quantico, he had done the stupidest thing imaginable.

“We shouldn’t do this again.”

You froze in your spot, half-way through tugging your pants up your legs. You blink at him from where he stood on the other side of the bed, already dressed, “This?”

“Yes.” Aaron says, voice awfully neutral.

You frown, jutting out your bottom lip that same way you did when you were thinking, “May I ask why?”

He takes a deep breath, “I’m your boss,” he gives you a pointed look, as if he had to remind you after fucking you dumb, “and you’re my subordinate. This goes against several workplace regulations and if anyone were to find out we could both lose our jobs.”

You’re quiet for several moments after that, and Aaron uses the silence to his advantage to prepare for any arguments you could be thinking of to use against him. He can’t seem to read you, though, your expression pensive as you stare at the floor.

Then you shrug. “Okay.” You say, simple and nonchalant.

Aaron watches as you continue finishing getting ready and he doesn’t know if he should ask if you were actually okay with it.

He decides that it’s for the best, not getting any pushback or having to argue on why he’s just subconsciously pushing you away after having one of the best nights of his life.

“Okay.” He repeats, giving you a small nod, even though you weren’t looking at him. With one last glance to your surprisingly calm figure, he finishes collecting the rest of his things and heads out of the room.

Even after the team had checked out of their hotel and settled onto the jet, you didn’t spare him a second glance. You hadn’t necessarily moved to ignoring him or silently lashing out, but it was as if everything went back to normal, with no mentions or glances back to that night.

That should be what was driving him crazy; the way he didn’t know if you were only calm because you were planning on going to the higher-ups, to HR, about what had happened. If you were secretly planning on putting him on blast out of anger or betrayal or telling him that he had coerced you to sleep with him and threatened you in case you didn’t.

No. What was driving him crazy was that he couldn’t get you out of his head, even after he broke things off.

Everything was engraved into his mind, from the sight of you on your knees, mouth full of his cock while you stared up at him with tear-pricked eyelashes and basked in his praises. Or the way your nails dug into his skin as he thrusted into you and the way you felt around him, all while he took pleasure in the sweet sounds he emitted from you every second.

He was going mad, and the already established feelings he had for you weren’t helping, either.

Aaron stared at you from inside his office, studied your features from afar whilst you sat on your desk. Your face was set in a neutral expression, flickering your attention from your computer screens to the physical files in front of you, but all he could see was the same face and person morphed into the one that had been withering in pleasure underneath him.

“Hotch…” you whine, a hand wrapped around his bicep as he dipped a finger inside your glistening pussy.

He watched as your back arched off the bed, throwing your head back against the pillows at the feeling of his thick digit inside you, “What, sweetheart?” He asked, the nickname rolling of his tongue easily. “What do you need? Hm?”

Your hips stuttered as he inserted another finger, thrusting them in and out you, “Y-You. I want you. Inside me.” You peered at him through your fluttering lashes, your mascara smudged underneath your eyes from the tears that had slipped out while you were sucking his cock.

“Yeah?” His voice is filled with amusement and bewilderment, one part of him indulging in seeing you this way—all disheveled and needy for him—while the other was still stunned at the whole thing. “Want my cock inside you after you just had it in your mouth?”

You nod meekly at his words, a sweet pout adorning your flushed lips.

Despite the heat and tension that suffocated the room, Aaron’s heart fluttered at the sight of you. The way you were asking for him ever so bashfully after just giving him the best head of his life tugged at his heartstrings and made his cock twitch.

“Please,” you whisper, bucking your hips upwards. A stuttered gasp emits from your lips when you feel the tip of his dick prod at your sopping entrance, “Aaron…”

Aaron lets out a low, throaty groan at the sound of his first name mumbled in desperation, and he thinks back to all the times he’s thought about you like this. How many times he’s dreamed of having you underneath him, encaged by his broad figure and whining for him.

“I got you, sweet girl,” he says promisingly. He lifts himself to his full height on his knees, lining himself up with your entrance and holding onto the meat of your thigh. Another groan utters from the back of his throat, mixed in with your gasps and puffs of breath as he begins to sink inside you.

A knock on his office door forces Aaron to snap out of his train of thought. He looks down at himself, registering the painfully hard boner he was now sporting. Quickly, he scooted further into his desk so that the tent in his pants wouldn’t be visible by whoever was knocking on his door. Clearing his throat, he lets out a somewhat proper ‘come in.’

In walks Garcia, and Aaron doesn’t know if he should be thankful or mortified it was her out of all people.

“Sir?” She asks politely, files in hand and head tilted in an ever so Penelope manner. “We’re ready whenever you are.”

Right. It was barely nine in the morning and Aaron was already sporting a growing tent in his suit pants.

He nods, doing his best to feign being busy, “I’ll be there in five, Garcia.”

He wants to think he comes out as somewhat normal, but panic surges through him briefly when her expression turns into a curious one.

“Are you alright, sir?” She takes a step forward and Aaron has to hold himself back from screaming for her to stay where she is. “You look red and pale at the same time.”

He shakes his head, waving a hand dismissively yet good-naturedly, “I’m fine. Jack is coming down with something and I think I might be, too.”

Great. Now he was using his innocent son as a scapegoat for his own horniness and bad decisions. Some father he was.

Garcia nods, looking convinced enough before bidding him a nod shuffling out of his office and closing the door behind her.

Aaron lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in. His boner had softened the slightest bit, and he was conflicted in trying to make it go down completely or taking care of it right here and now. But the thought of having to face his team after fucking himself into his fist mortified him. Of seeing you, right after fucking himself into his fist to the thought of you after leaving you hanging coldly.

He opted out of it, though it took more than five minutes to settle himself before heading over to the conference room. Once again, he tried to play it as casual as possible while he walked to his seat with everyone staring expectantly at him, including you.

“Let’s get started.”

The team’s briefings went on as so, everyone presenting their perspective cases and discoveries within them. It was a bit easier to lose focus of what he was thinking earlier when the gory crime scenes showed up on the TV screen each time someone went up, but all focus was lost when it was your turn.

You stood from your seat, taking the control from Penelope’s hands and talking everyone through the case you were currently focusing on.

Aaron held his fist up to his face as he tried to focus on the details of the case instead of you and your entire being. Your hair whipped out and into your face each time you looked from the screen and back to the team. The top part of your dress twisted with each turn and motion you made, the bottom part of it creasing along with it. Was it a new dress?

Didn’t matter. It didn’t compare to the pajama shorts he had slowly, almost tauntingly, pulled down your legs before–

“...makes me think he’s keeping them in a secluded space. He obviously likes the control and the pleasure of having his victims’ screams and cries for help to himself, so I’ve advised police to search condemned and empty areas far away from the city and even on the outskirts of the town.” You finished with a nod and once again Aaron was snapped away from his unholy thoughts.

While everyone else added their own commentary and advice, Aaron realized he had been the only to have not said anything during your presentation, too preoccupied with you once more.

“Adding in the possibility of him keeping them outside of the main town the victims have been found in was a smart move,” He quickly added, trying his best to comment on what he had paid attention to. His breath hitched when you turned to look at him. “Law enforcement might have missed that and can collaborate with police from the next town over. Good job.”

You smiled softly and nodded in appreciation, “Thank you.”

Fuck. How were you so nonchalant about this? Aaron’s mind wandered back to the probability of you getting back at him by going to Strauss about your rendezvous. It was only early morning Monday, the first day back in the office after said events, so it wasn’t a surprise he hadn’t heard anything from her. Yet.

He nodded back in response, though, casting his gaze downwards and collecting his things, “Great. I expect everyone’s reports to be on my desk by tonight, please.”

Everyone stood from their seats, shuffling out of the room with mumbled conversations. Aaron held back, taking his time in looking through his files and stacking them together while you did the same, leaving the two of you alone once everyone else had gone.

He wanted to say something, gather the courage to ask you something. Anything, just to make sure you were alright. If the two of you were still right, in spite of everything.

Only when you finished collecting things did he bring himself to open his mouth, a soft utterance of your name to get your attention.

You stopped in your tracks, a good couple feet away from him and the door. You stared at him, waiting for him to speak with a neutral expression on your face.

Not one of annoyance or irritation. Just expectant.

God, you really were driving him crazy.

You raised a brow when he didn’t say anything, “…Yes?”

He clears his throat again before asking, “Is everything okay?”

You blink and tilt your head, dumbfounded, “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Aaron grips at his files, guilt consuming him all over again. “With us,” he clarifies, swallowing harshly. “Is everything okay with us?”

You blink a couple more times, eyes wandering to the side as if you’re trying to catch onto what he’s implying.

It makes his heart churn.

“Oh.” You finally say, meeting his gaze. “Yes. We both agreed, no? To what you said.”

Aaron can’t decipher if the smile you give him is genuine or jeering, and he can’t tell if what you say last is clarifying as his answer or if it’s something underlyingly petty.

Either way it’s something. You’ve given him something and he’ll take it.

He nods finally, “Yes, we did.”

You shrug, smiling a bit wider this time, “All good then.”

He gives another curt nod, stepping to the side so you could exit the room. He moves to follow behind you, but he gets a whiff of your perfume as soon as you brush past him. The scent makes him halt and he has to hold onto one of the back posts of a chair to stabilize himself.

He takes a deep breath, inhaling the remnants that linger behind you for a moment.

He truly was going crazy.

The rest of the day goes by the same and hardly any work gets done on Aaron’s end. He’d scribble whatever he needed to write down or fill out then get distracted by the void of you.

It was getting impossible for him to keep working with the relentless problem that was his ongoing boner. He was tucked into his desk all the way yet it hurt whenever he leaned forward or backwards while moving around. Oftentimes he tried to give himself some sort of relief by running a hand over himself, but it didn’t help much, and the dirty thoughts about you certainly didn’t either.

The sounds that filled the room were lewd, your gags and moans from below mixed in with Aaron’s grunts and words of encouragement echoing off the hotel room’s walls. His large hand was entangled in your hair, pushing your head forward to take more of him, as if your jaw wasn’t aching enough already.

Though there wasn’t a way for him to tell, really. You gave no sign or indication that you wanted him to stop, your tongue swiping at the head of his cock each time he dipped your head even more. Saliva pooled from your tongue and leaked from your mouth, dripping into the carpeted floor and entailing a trail from your lips to your chin.

Aaron’s head was thrown back in utter pleasure and astonishment, bewildered that you’d ever be doing this to him. He didn’t want to finish before you, but it was taking everything him to not give in and fuck your face the way he truly desired.

He’d never received head this good, nor had he received it much recently. His legs were spread with you settled in between them contently. “That’s it sweetheart,” he mumbled, brushing fallen strands of hair out of your face lovingly. “Taking me so good, such a good girl.”

His praises only edged you on even further, bobbing your head up and down a couple more times before pulling off of him with a slick ‘pop!’ You rest your head on his thigh in an attempt to catch your breath, a shaky, stuttered sigh heaving from your chest as your hand comes up to continue the rest of your work.

Aaron has to run a hand over his face to try and keep his composure, his nails digging into the skin of his palm albeit their short length. He throws his head back against his chair, a grunt threatening to emit from his throat as he coercively runs his hand over his boner.

At least he wishes he can say it’s coercively, really it’s just a tainted image of you he’s embedded in his own dirty mind.

It doesn’t take long for Aaron to give in and reach inside his pants, sparing another careful glance to his now locked office door before springing his painfully hard cock free. A low, pleased grunt spills from his pursed lips as he wraps his hand around himself. He gives his length a good tug, bucking his hips up instantaneously, the same way he did when you first wrapped your mouth around him.

Still, as cautiously and quietly as possible, he begins to stroke at his length, a hand covering his mouth as he continues to dart his eyes from below himself to his door–as if anyone would walk in at any second and catch him jerking himself off in his own government-issued office.

He begins to imagine that his fist is you. That you’re sitting in the space between his legs with your hot mouth licking long stripes up his length and that your hand is toying with his balls the same way you did before. It only makes him pump at his fist even faster, the hand that was covering his mouth shooting down to the armrest of his chair, gripping at the cushioned leather as he began to reach his high.

“Fuck, Hotch, fuck!” Your whines are eccentric, head thrown back in pure ecstasy. Your legs wrap around Aaron’s waist, pulling him closer to you as he continues to thrust into your sopping pussy.

Aaron groans loudly, silently thanking that his and yours room was placed further down the hall from everyone else’s. His hands rest at the bottom of your thighs, his large hand gripping the flesh for support as he pounds into you relentlessly. Your pussy grips him like a vice and your nails dig into the skin of his biceps from where you hold him.

His sight is focused on you only, the way your tits bounce with each thrust and the way your mouth is curled into a wide ‘o’ from the pleasure you’re receiving.

“So good for me, baby,” he mumbles, hand coming down to grab at your breast, squeezing possessively before leaning down to crash his lips against yours hungrily.

You whine through the kiss, grabbing a fistful of his hair and tugging while your other hand scratches at his back. A string of saliva connects at your lips when he pulls away, his head dipping down to kiss and suck at your neck while he grabs your hips to better pistol himself inside you.

A moan echoes through the room again and straight to his ear, your back arching into his chest, “Feels so good, Aaron, so good!”

Aaron’s release sputters everywhere messily and he has to bite at his fist to stop himself from groaning loudly. His come spills onto parts of his leg, his desk, and even onto the floor. He leans back into his chair, trying to contain himself and his heaving chest.

He takes a look at the mess he created–the mess you unknowingly entailed from him. Like clockwork, the paranoia and guilt from doing this begins to seep in and he’s quick to snatch a handful of tissues from the box he kept on the corner of his desk to clean himself up. He tucks himself back into his pants then moves to clean at his desk and his floor.

Clearly, he hadn’t known what he was thinking. Not when it came to calling things off between the two of you before they even happened and certainly not now after he realized the spell he was currently in.

The last hour of the work day comes by agonizingly slowly. After his little session, Aaron finds it a little bit easier to get the rest of his work done (key word: a little bit). The rest of the members all begin to spill into his office to hand in their finished paperwork and files, all of them sparing him brief glances of curiosity and concern–the same way Garcia had done earlier–before bidding him goodnight and leaving.

The only one that hasn’t come to hand in anything was you. He knew you were still here, he could see you sitting at your desk from the view through his blinds, scribbling away casually like you had been doing so the whole day. After you had stalled to follow behind the rest of your co-workers, Aaron had gotten up from his desk and pretended to be walking around his office with a file in hand, lifting his head every few minutes to see if you were ever making your way towards him to turn in your work.

He wanted desperately to know what you were thinking. If you were secretly being tortured by the recollections of your hook-up, too, or if you truly didn’t care about him basically dumping you after having sex with you and telling you that it could never happen again due to your perspective titles.

With a defeated sigh, he closes the file he was still pretending to read. His eyes instinctively travel back to where your desk was at and his breath immediately catches in his throat when he sees that you aren’t there. He hears the sound of footsteps approaching closer and closer through the staircase that leads up to his office and you walk in soon after.

You freeze in the doorway when you see that he’s already staring at you. Your eyes flicker to a space behind him then back at him before you take a tentative step back and glance at the clock hung on the wall facing his desk, “Uh, is this a bad time?”

“No!” Aaron takes a step forward when you take another one back. He rubs at the back of his neck awkwardly, “No, no, it’s not. I didn’t know you were still here. Everyone else left almost half an hour ago.”

“Oh,” you glance back behind you to the rest of the bullpen before looking back at him. “I was just finishing up the reports you said you wanted done by the end of today.” You jut your chin toward the stack of files you were carrying in one arm.

“Right.” He clears his throat, motioning to the pile of files the rest of the team had stacked on his desk. “You can just leave them there.”

You nod, giving him a small smile.

He watches as you walk over to his desk, taking in your appearance while you double-check that everything was correct. He swallowed harshly, taking in the way your skirt hugged your lower figure perfectly the same way it did during the morning debriefing. Your hair flows ever so slightly and he takes in a good look at your side profile when you tuck a loose strand behind your ears while you continue to flip through the pages of your file.

You’re breathtakingly gorgeous and Aaron doesn’t know if what suddenly makes him start walking up behind you is from what he’s felt since sleeping with you or if it’s everything he’s felt since way before that.

You halt your movements when you feel his presence directly behind you, gasping when you turn and find how close he was standing.

“Hotch–” you gulp, heat blooming through your cheeks albeit feeling confused. “W-What are you doing?”

Aaron takes in your tone and he can tell that you’re not asking in a disgusted, annoyed way, more so in a flustered way. He lifts a hand to brush the hair that frames your face past your face but doesn’t actually move to do it, keeping it there to see if you push him away. But you don’t. So he brushes it away.

“I can’t get you out of my head.” He mumbles, eyes boring into the side of your face as you stare up at him as best as you can from your practically rigid figure.

You scoff, a sound filled with so much humor yet so little at the same time, “You were the one that said this couldn’t happen again.” You twist your head, trying to turn your body around more with the way he had you pressed against the front of his desk.

“That was a mistake,” he whispers. He dips his head so that his mouth is by your ear, watching you shiver from the proximity.

“A mistake?” You repeat, brows raised. You lull your head to the side but you don’t know if you do it to get away from him or to grant him access to your neck.

Aaron takes it as the latter and hovers his lips over your skin, the same spot where he had left splotches of pink and purple last time.

“Yes,” he confirms, “a mistake.”

You want to ask why he said it then, want to press him for answers but you can’t when his hot breath sends shivers down your spine and arms. Your legs go weak when he brings a hand around you to wrap at your middle, big hand splayed across your stomach to pull you in even closer, if possible.

“H-Hotch,” you clear your throat. “We can’t. You said so yourself.” You roll your shoulders back in a weak effort to push him away, but all he does is hold you tighter.

“I was wrong,” he mutters, pressing a feather-light kiss to the very side of your neck. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of your perfume again and letting out a pleased hum from the back of his throat. “I was so wrong.”

You gasp when he flings an arm out in front of you, proceeding to knock over the multiple things from his desk. Files, pens, and other trinkets fly off the hard wood and land on the floor with a loud crash. Aaron spins you around before you can process the whole mess, turning you around so that you were facing him.

“Aaron-!” Your mind is a whirlwind as he grabs at your hips and easily sets you down on the edge of the desk. His lips crash onto yours messily and you hum, satisfied.

The kiss quickly becomes sloppy and hungry, muffled whines as you two practically devour one another. Your hands wrap around his neck while his own roam your body, curious hands searching for the zipper of your dress and bunching up the fabric in the process. You mewl when he finally finds it and slowly tugs it down. You break apart from the kiss in order to help him, scrambling from side to side so that it comes off from under you.

Aaron lets out a groan at the sight of you as he tosses the dress to the side. You’re wearing a matching set: a lacy white bra that cups your breasts gorgeously and a lacy white thong paired with it. It takes everything in him to not come undone right then and there.

Holding your gaze, Aaron sinks to his knees, shrugging off his suit jacket as he kneels before you.

“Aaron…”

He immediately shushes you, discarding the jacket somewhere next to your dress on his office floor. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

Instead of obeying, you knock your knees together bashfully, the fat of your thighs pressing against each other.

Aaron’s eyes darken at your shy defiance. “I said spread your legs.” His hands come out to grab behind your knees and you gasp again when he spreads them apart forcefully, large hands holding them in place.

“Oh, sweet girl,” he utters, gaze locked on your soaked panties. His palms slide down your legs, eyes flickering back up at you as he begins to kiss at your calves. Each peck to your skin leaves a wet trail from your earlier kiss and you whine in anticipation as he makes his way up before coming face to face with your pussy. His fingers hook themselves inside the thin fabric and you immediately get the message, lifting your hips once more so he could slide them down your legs

Aaron swiftly shoves the wet material into his pockets, wasting no time before diving straight in and burying his head in between your thighs.

His tongue swiping at your folds elicits a loud moan from you, your hands shooting out to grab at his head, “Aaron!” You yell out, fingers tangling in his hair to stabilize yourself from the suddenness.

Aaron grunts from below you, the sound sending vibrations up your body and causing you to arch into his touch. He didn’t know how he hadn’t thought of tasting you that night in the hotel room, too preoccupied with the pleasure he had received from you. But–dare he say–this was better than head, better than anything else he had ever gotten, tasted or even done. He wasn’t even a minute into devouring you and he had already decided that this was the best pussy he had ever had in his whole life.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this pussy.” He lapped at your juices, mouth hot on your dripping cunt. His hands continued to grip at your thighs, large palms still keeping you in place from where you were writhing in pleasure.

“A-Aaron,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his face. “Please, I need you. Need you so bad.”

Your head was thrown back in utter bliss, hips stuttering with each nibble at your clit. Your fingers tugged his face closer despite the longing you had to feel him inside you, caging his head to keep him there.

Aaron couldn’t help but bask in the sounds he was pulling from you. It was as if his mouth had a mind of his own and all it could focus on was licking up every single one of your juices, the taste nearly intoxicating. He flickered his eyes up to you, taking in the way your chest heaved and your breasts pushed against the cups of your bra, practically spilling out.

Without removing his tongue from your pussy, he reaches behind you and easily undoes the hooks.

You let the straps fall from your shoulders and aid him in tossing it somewhere in the room along with your dress. Desperately, you reach for Aaron’s hands and place them on your breasts, groaning when he rolls each already hard and sensitive nipple in between your fingers.

Your legs begin to shake and you’re quick to wrap them around Aaron’s head, the heels of your feet digging into his muscular back. “Mm, fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” you toss your head back as the coil in your belly threatens to snap.

“Yeah?” He teases, angling his head so that he could spit onto your cunt, all before diving right back in and swirling it together with your arousal. “You gonna cum on my mouth, honey?”

You nod, feverishly, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel your orgasm getting closer and closer.

“Go ahead, pretty,” Aaron ushers, voice deep and rough from his non stop nibbling and sucking. “Come on my mouth, sweetheart.”

A certain bite on your clit immediately has you seeing stars and the office is soon filled with your cries of ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you violently. Your body shakes and stutters as you ride out the high on his face, leaning backwards until your back was resting against his desk.

Aaron doesn’t relent even as you begin to come down from your high, enhancing the way your legs shook from where they were wrapped around him.

“No, n-no more, Aaron, p-please,” you begged, keeping your back on the desk while weakly attempting to push him away.

“Just one more, honey. You can give me one more, can’t you?”

You don’t get the chance to answer, back arching off the desk as his fingers prodded at your entrance briefly before he shoved two inside. A high-pitched moan emitted from your swollen lips and your hips rutted against his face once more as he scissored the thick digits inside your gummy walls.

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it,” Aaron’s sultry words only encouraged you further, his face wet with your arousal and the release of your first orgasm. “I’m gonna make it up to you, sweetheart. But first you gotta give me another one.”

His thumb came up alongside his mouth to rub rough circles on your already sensitive, swollen clit and you immediately felt that coil snap once more, mixing in with the first orgasm you hadn’t even properly come down from.

“Aaron, Aaron, Aaron!” You mumbled dumbly, mouth agape and head hanging back from the desk as you rode out your second high on his face, the heavy wood shaking with every motion.

Aaron’s head was buried even further in between your legs, lips trying to catch every single drop that leaked from your hole, pulling out your fingers and cleaning them with a swirl from his tongue. He delivered a sweet kiss to your folds before standing, his knees cracking in response to being kneeled on the ground for so long.

He leans over, bringing a guiding hand to the back of your neck to get you to sit up, “You good, honey?” Aaron asks, brushing away the stray hands of hair that had stuck to your face. “Still with me?”

You hum, nodding weakly, “Need you, Aaron.”

Aaron chuckles at your fucked-out form, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your head, “I got you, sweetheart. Bend over the desk for me.”

You stand on wobbly legs and do as he says blindly, the need to have him inside you outshining your nearing overstimulation. You feel yourself salivate as the sound of him undoing his belt is heard from behind you and you look back to watch him pull himself out from his boxers.

He hears you gasp when his cock springs out and hits against his stomach, tip an angry red and leaking with precome. He wraps a hand around himself and groans at how painfully hard he was. He quickly lines himself up with your entrance, slapping his length against your dripping folds before easing himself inside little by little.

You whine from in front of him when he bottoms out, the tip of his dick easily hitting your sweet spot the same way it did before in the hotel. This time, though, it feels even better with how wet you already were, his cock glistening when he pulls out before shoving himself back in roughly.

It doesn’t take long for Aaron to set a brutal pace, hands on your hips as he begins to pound into you from behind ruthlessly, a stark contrast from the way he had asked you if you were okay.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You have no idea how crazy you’ve driven me since I first fucked this pretty pussy,” Aaron grunted form behind, fingers digging so hard into your hips he was sure there would be an imprint there. “Had to get myself off in my own office, that’s how crazy you had me going.”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Your mouth is wide open, small huffs the only noise you can make while a line of saliva drools from your tongue. It’s only when you feel him wrap your hair in his hand and pull your back flush against his chest that you squeal, the angle pushing his cock further inside you.

“You like that, pretty?” He asks deeply, voice hoarse and gravely as he continues to pound into your pussy, the squelching that comes from beneath scandalous. “Like getting this pussy fucked by me, huh?”

You nod dumbly, too fucked out to properly answer him. A harsh slap against your ass makes you cry out, the sting somewhat snapping you back to reality.

“Answer me,” Aaron commands, tugging at your hair and making your back arch even further against him. “Did I fuck you dumb like last time?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you babble, legs shaking even in your standing position. “I l-love it, Aaron. Feels so g-good.”

He chuckles against your ear, the way you could barely register his questions only making him quicken his pace, “You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart? Gonna give me one more wrapped around me?”

You nod with as much fervor as possible, “Yes, y-yes, can I, Aaron? Want you to c-cum inside me, please.”

“Yeah? Want me to stuff you full of my cum?” He asks. He doesn’t bother to correct you when you don’t answer, instead snaking his hand to your front and down to your pussy.

The feel of him rubbing circles on your clit is the final push you need before you’re clenching around him, body trembling against him as he continues his assault on your swollen bud.

It doesn’t take long for Aaron to spill his own release inside you, giving you a couple more shallow thrusts as he comes down from his own high.

You whine when you feel him pull out, a string of your mixed releases following suit on the tip of his cock.

“So good, baby,” he praises, wrapping a hand around your neck gently and pressing soothing kisses on your cheek. “Did so good for me.”

You lean your head against his shoulder as he reaches for some tissues to clean you up, “So I guess we’re definitely doing this again?”

Aaron laughs, a pink adorning his cheeks, “Yes. Yes, we are. In fact, I’m telling everyone to work from home tomorrow so I can take you on a proper date. I’m not risking going crazy again.”

You suppress a giggle, “You went crazy? Over my pussy?”

He sighs, “If only you knew.”

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