#and then I get this like....happiness is real and its Him shaped | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prael · 1 month ago

Text

Delicacy

ILLIT Moka x male reader smut

Happy (kinda late) Moka Day!

Masterlist word count: 5,401 Kofi(donations/commissions)

"Ladies and-a gen-entleman! Step right up! Ge-get yourself a-a mystical item today!" The old Murgo's voice is loud, his tone is jovial. His accent is hard to understand and his stuttering speech patterns would indicate a man who is not well-educated, though you've always expected he puts it all on for show.

His skin is scruffy, full of moles and unkempt facial hair that creeps down to his thin neck. The elderly man's uniform consists of a long, purple-sleeved coat—sleeves that fall every time he waves an arm at the next item he tries to flog.

"Y-you sir! Consider this, this is truly a-a magical mirror, for as long as you lo-look into it, it will make you b-beautiful." He smiles at the group before him, pearly white teeth contrasting with his murky skin colour. They are the only noteworthy things about him, other than his height, a whole foot smaller than the usual man.

The rough-looking labourer by your side mumbles, "What a crock of shit!"

While the bald man at the front calls "I'll take it!"

Murgo, as Murgo so often does, announces the catch, "Very wise pu-purchase. Now, just remember, the m-magic only works if you look a-at in complete darkness."

Murgo collects his due payment and the man at your side shakes his head as he turns away. "Idiots," he grumbles before he walks away.

"You there!" Murgo singles you out. "Do you fancy trying a-anything?" He asks you with a smile.

Murgo's entire stall is packed full of oddities, and none of them are ever what they seem. You may not believe in Murgo's little items, but it's always interesting to come and see what he has to sell today. It's nice to consider his fantastical excuses and embellishments.

"M-may I interest you in a fan-antasy?" He sing-songs. "You must ha-have a wish to make come true? Consider this ma-magical music box! One wish! M-Make it come true!" He boasts about another silly item, something that always leaves you rolling your eyes. Wishes cannot be bought.

"Tha-that's a look of uncertainty. Well, how about this." Murgo holds out a hand containing a single chocolate. A perfect, colourful item shaped like a square. "Gen-entleman, please m-may I present, a most magical item to y-your attention! A chocolate! Bu-but not any chocolate! They say this one tastes of m-mocha, and its ingestion a-allows you to live a fantasy."

You scrunch your brow.

"Ingested fantasies might seem an im-impossibility, but I have p-proven through a rigorous scientific process..."

You know he's lying, as always, but you're not about to interrupt though. You doubt the old man actually has much training in anything even related to science, and everything about him can only lead you to believe that he doesn't own many resources to test things on anyway.

"...so, sir, I urge you!" Murgo finishes his meaningless rambling by saying, "Try and taste your fondest dream. Try the ma-magical wonder and live a dream so real, so plausible that y-you'll forget who you are!"

Live a dream so real... He's definitely lying, but you are curious as to the taste of his chocolate.

Your eyes switch from Murgo's insistent, excited stare to his chocolate, and back to Murgo's knowing smile. "Just this once," you tell him.

You sit at your kitchen table, staring at the little rectangular block that rests on the wood.

"A fantasy, huh?" you contemplate. You lean in close and give it a sniff; it certainly smells like chocolate, with a hint of mocha.

Shrugging, you hold up the chocolate and drop it into your mouth. Immediately, it melts away and you're overpowered by the delicious flavour. It's milk chocolate, but you find hints of cocoa and coffee mixed between your lips.

You chew a few times and then swallow. At that moment, Murgo's words ring around your mind. 'Live a dream so real,' they repeat.

You sit and you wait. Staring expectantly at the table, you blink blankly at the slab where the chocolate once rested. You tap your fingers. You scratch the back of your neck. And still, nothing.

"Wow." You shake your head, chastising yourself for thinking so optimistically, and push out the chair.

As you stand, your head spins. The world about you warps into another form, a dark space resembling nothing you have ever seen.

The ground crunches beneath your feet. Gravel, perhaps? Black grazes at the surface, but you can't quite make out any details. As if a curtain has fallen to obscure your vision.

You spin around and wave your hands to find a purchase with something.

And then you feel it. Feel... her?

Small, smooth hands in your own. They let go before too long, and then those hands brush up your forearms.

A shadowed girl—clearly a girl by her soft curves—gently touches your cheek, and you grab her hand again. A soft gasp escapes her, and then she giggles. "Do you know how hard it's been, to be stuck inside a piece of chocolate? Of course, you don't. Why would you?"

This... isn't real. Could you be dreaming? Could you be high, or drunk, or passed out? Perhaps poisoned? You bring your fingers to your face to ensure you're not gushing blood or anything odd. Nope, normal. Completely and utterly normal, so... what the hell?

She whispers as her fingers move along the waistband of your pants, "Did you like the taste of the chocolate? Of... Moka?" She laughs. "My name is Moka, do you understand? Mocha and Moka!"

She has the cutest laugh. Soft, genuine, and one that leaves you smiling. Smiling? You ask yourself what you're doing and how you possibly ended up with some mysterious woman pawing your crotch. Regardless, you answer.

"Yeah," you say, her laugh encouraging you to express honesty. "Definitely not a bad product at all."

"Of course not!" Moka cheers. You catch a glimpse of a smile in the shadows that surround her. "After all, I was made with all the finest ingredients to give a taste that absolutely anyone can enjoy! And you're no exception, are you?" Moka's weight presses against you, and she leans close to your ear to murmur, "This little bump in your pants proves that."

You let out a sharp breath, but no denial. Moka may be shrouded in darkness, but you don't have trouble appreciating her presence. You can feel the warmth from her body, her rounded breasts that are all too tempting to touch.

"I'm so confused..." you whisper.

"Good." With the utterance of one word, you see the brightness of a smile. How wonderful and expressive her face is. The darkness clears and the mystery goes with it. The girl in front of you can only be described as utterly breathtaking. She's wearing this smile that turns up a little more on one side of her mouth than the other, and you're absolutely enchanted by its beauty. There's this beauty mark on her nose, such a cute mole. And then her eyes... you could very happily lose yourself within them.

"So incredibly confused," you repeat, and watch with fascination as a lock of her dark hair slips past a black strip and over her flushed cheek.

Moka kisses you. A gentle, testing peck, but there's no time for timid, because she pounces, and suddenly you're drowning under her affection. Kissing her like this is all you can think about, and the way she tangles her small tongue around your own is wildly erotic, both innocent and sinful at the same time.

You are too complacent, but then Moka brings her body flush against yours. You don't know where she came from, you have no idea why she's here and what's going on, but your body is certainly not questioning that right now. Her lithe form under your touch is as smooth as the chocolate she came from.

"Take me," she all but purrs, "It's what I'm here for."

"But you're..."

"Not real? A fantasy? Exactly. That's all the reason you need to let go," she whispers and there is a clarity that brings her words like truth.

Real or not, you can't deny it. You want her, this exotic enigma. You tug her close, fingers tracing a curve, your lips following a line. Her body, her skin, you adore her. Every facet, every inch, you crave her. You take hold of Moka and lift her, she lets out the gentlest of squeaks but instantly wraps her legs around you, and just the sound and feeling of her draws a shudder out of you.

"I spent months in Murgo's storage, just waiting for someone like you. Every single day growing more and more frustrated as I waited. You can't imagine being that pent up, can you?"

She's taking off your shirt. Impatiently running her hands down your torso, like she can't get enough. You stumble until you plant her against the wall, holding her firm and kissing her with all the frustration she feels, biting and sucking and leaving her breathless.

Moka wraps her arms around your neck, curling her heels, pulling you close.

"I can't imagine it, but you don't have to wait for another second though." You squeeze at her taut thighs, making her whimper with delight.

"Taste me," she whispers and you take your lips to her neck. It's not exactly what she has in mind, but she knows it's inevitable. All roads lead between her thighs.

So you fall to your knees before her. Hands up her thighs, driving up the frills of her skirt. She's a delicacy, soft and pink, beautiful, just waiting to be savoured. And the moment your lips touch the inside of her thigh, she gasps, one palm smacking the wall behind her. The tension, the excitement, the breathless little whimpers that escape her, every little thing, has you completely engrossed.

The whole time you press a barrage of kisses against her thighs, moving closer to her core with each passing second, but the light, teasing kisses draw a litany of frustration out of her.

"P-please..." Moka whimpers.

The breath from her plea leaves her in a shudder. She huffs, already trembling. You test how wet she is with your fingers, feeling her damp warmth, her sticky arousal coating your digits. You're unable to resist running your fingertips up the folds of her pussy, using the natural slickness to help move, dancing around her clit and drawing cries from the breathless girl. Her pleasure is plain to see, the rising blush reaching her chest and the deep breaths escaping her.

You slide a single finger inside her, then quickly two, slowly finger fucking her pretty pink, twisting around and feeling her wrap around you.

"You like it?" you murmur and it's not like you could call anything happening now an act of romance, but you turn your head and kiss her thigh. Such a tender moment is shared despite the sordid acts.

Moka huffs, her fingers clinging to your shoulder. "I need it." She sputters, moaning and thrusting down to meet your slow motions. "Oh... It's so good..."

"It's about to get even better," you say.

You lap your tongue along the seeping moisture of her beautiful cunt, and you lick over her slick folds and lap up everything she has to offer. With deep, intense licks, you give her pussy the attention she's been begging for.

"Ahh! Oh, yes!" she shrieks, falling back against the wall and panting with pleasure.

The sweetness of her nectar assaults you, and your tongue finds the little spot that has her moaning each time you lick near it. Faster and faster you circle her clit, watching as her knees quiver and twitch. Closer and closer, your tongue working her into a frenzy.

"More... I-I... yes, don't stop!" she cries, pulling your face against her. She wants more, she won't wait, and she twists and tangles her fingers into your hair, pushing and grinding her dripping sex against you. "Can you imagine it? I was made for pleasure. To give and receive, only to be forced to hide away, all alone? To suffer every day, tortured by my need?"

Moka whimpers and struggles to keep her breath even. You must want to do something about that, don't you?

You grab her thighs, lifting her off the ground and shifting your hands under her, grabbing her soft, plump ass cheeks. She cries at the movement, but then her legs are wrapped around your shoulders, clutching you to her desperately. You eat her little pussy out furiously, ravaging her drenched folds as she cries out, screams filling the room as you pick up the pace. Your tongue dances around her clit, your fingers sinking deeply into the soft flesh of her cute little ass.

"Oh god... I can't stop myself," her desperate cries fill the room.

You cannot deny this girl, even if you wanted to, so you devour her sweet cunt, and watch as her eyes close, the pleasure becoming too much as her body explodes with euphoric release. She screams, desperately riding your face, her entire body quivering and twitching as she cums. The juices drip down your chin as she rides the wave of intense bliss, rolling her hips, indulging in it, prolonging it for as long as she can.

Finally, the surge of her overwhelming orgasm ends, but she slumps, nearly lifeless in your grasp. You struggle to keep her up, and she keeps trying to grind her sensitive folds against you, but her exhaustion finally hits her. So you take her, back in your arms, and toward your kitchen table.

There she lays, shaking and sweating, struggling to catch her breath, and you want nothing more than to pry her delicate figure from that dress. You strip her, your mouth kissing every newly exposed surface of her perfect body.

"This is how things should have been, how life should have been," Moka mumbles, her dark hair swirling beneath her as she lays across your table. Her sweet skin comes into sight and you can't help running your hands along the feminine curve of her stomach. Her perfect breasts fit in the palms of your hands and you trace circles around her taut nipples as she sighs happily.

You undress, and she watches, pulling her lower lip between her teeth. Her expression is suddenly guilty, as though admiring a man naked isn't something a girl should do. But you caress her face, she's your beautiful enchantress, and that moment of hesitation seems to pass as she leans into the palm of your hand. Her eyes shimmer with acceptance, and she's accepting of all the dirty things she's thinking, all the things she's about to say. "I...I want you inside me," she whispers.

Your cock is erect and eager, so hard, aching, throbbing with the desire to know her warmth, and you line yourself with the wetness between her legs.

Gently, you lean forward, pressing the tip against her tightness. "Are you ready?"

"For however long I've waited," she breathes.

She's quivering under you, full of tension, gripping the edge of the table tightly. The expression on her face is so vulnerable, open and raw, so beautiful. Her chest rises and falls with her need, and there's a hunger burning in her, a fire begging to be ignited.

"Please," Moka begs.

"Gentle..." you tell her, though who it's meant for, you're not entirely sure. But you take a deep breath and ease into her slickness.

She gasps, her grip around the side of the table tightening. It takes a moment, but she grows accustomed, her tension dissipates and her trembling is overcome. She laughs, and the sound is nothing short of stunning. Chime-like, the light, airy melody fills the room as she touches herself. Cupping her supple breasts, and tugging her pink nipples, she indulges in her lust and rocks gently against your hard shaft.

"Fuck away my lusts. Fill the void, be the man I've needed so badly," her sweet voice begins to sing with pleasure, her pitch rising.

Her cunt is so warm and inviting, so wet, stretching tightly around you as you pump back and forth. Wet noises sound with every pass. Moka's eyes glaze over and her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you even deeper.

Your thrusting finds a comfortable, easy rhythm, and soon your hips are slapping eagerly against her every time you push in. Wet noises fill the air each time you drive into her deepest parts.

"God, yes..." her desperation only heightens, "Use me, please. Don't stop, fuck me."

"How could I ever?" you pant, both leaning in, sucking the taste of her chocolate mouth, twirling her tongue, drinking her intoxicating exhales.

She's a dream, this girl is made for indulgence. Her arms hook under yours, hands grasping your shoulders, digging into your back, desperate for some way to anchor herself. You want to touch every part of her, soak up her delicious little whimpers and commit them to memory. As your breath runs ragged and your heart pounds in your chest, nothing other than her is present in your mind. Nothing else matters. She is the pure embodiment of desire.

As the feverish motion speeds up, her soft breasts bounce and her entire body shimmers. Sweat glistens along her slender form and you push her to limits she's never known. Her cries run longer and louder until she's screaming, moaning your name, muttering incoherent praise.

"Moka..." you whisper her name, lacing her with what little you can say with a mind lost in the overwhelming bliss of her body.

It isn't long before your rhythm begins to break down. A rising and falling beat, speeding and slowing, stuttering with your every breath. She's drowning with you, and yet floating all at once. Latching onto you, refusing to let go. Desperate, clamping tightly onto you as you enter her deeper with each sharp thrust.

Panting, drenched, bodies so close. Your hard, feverish heat, her spiking lust, colliding with explosive fervour as you surge forward, burying yourself inside her and grunting as you shudder.

Unbridled and relentless, the swelling heat pulses through you and down your length. Rippling through her, filling her cunt, pouring into her. Her cries peak alongside yours. She shudders and shakes as your pulsing cock pumps a shockwave of ecstasy through her.

Delirious laughter escapes her when her rolling euphoria subsides, and her satisfied smile when she strokes her hand down your hot chest... everything about her... the delight of satisfaction washes through her.

Just what was that? That woman made you feel desires you could never imagine possible. Never could you have imagined something would make you feel as if you were flying.

Never could you imagine her.

And yet here she is.

"Can we..." she seems uncertain now, nervous, unsure.

You take her hands and kiss them. A delicate display of adoration that causes her nervous smile to transform into something happier, more certain. "What is it, Moka?"

She presses her finger to her lower lip, searching for the right words. "We can do this again, can't we?"

You can't resist chuckling at the blush that reaches her chest and the shy way she turns her head.

"Of course," you say.

Now you understand, even if vaguely, what happened and how things came to be; your actions and hers.

But, as always, the question remains... can a fantasy ever stay?

Moka is sitting outside on the small porch of your humble home. Fond memories occupy your thoughts; nights filled with bliss; mornings spent listening to her joyous voice.

"Are you having doubts?" she asks, unable to meet your gaze.

You sigh and rest against the rail. Her feelings are difficult to understand sometimes, but you have this odd connection, as if an invisible bridge exists between you, allowing you to feel her as she can you. She wants your happiness, you know that, she craves it, and yet...

"Will you stay?" you ask her quietly, a little afraid of the answer.

The setting sun casts pink across the sky. From the lush valley, there's a stream that cuts across the landscape, shaded by the greenery, broken only by the towering tree that stands tall in the distance. Its wide leaves filter the sunlight, casting gentle patterns in the trickling water. It really is such a peaceful place to live.

You stand and enjoy the moment. Fresh air, the calming simplicity of nature.

"I'm sorry," Moka's voice is only a whisper, "I don't know the limits of the magic that brought me here. If I stay, would I be stuck as a human? If I leave your side, would I ever be able to return? It's as much of a mystery to me as it is to you."

"Should I ask Murgo?"

"That fool? He didn't even know the chocolate was really magic. No," her voice grows firmer, "Don't trust the words of that merchant." Her hands clutch tightly at her knees, "I do have this feeling. I can't quite explain it, but, I've been feeling it since you first tasted me."

"Feeling?"

"A pulling—a tug—toward you, away from you too," she says. "Magic, desires, loneliness... maybe they've been woven together. I can't be sure."

"Not sure I understand."

"I feel it now. There's this need to be satisfied. And when I'm not, it feels like the magic will just tear me away."

You push away from the railing and step towards her. She's sitting, knees pulled against her chest, wearing nothing more than a white linen gown. Seeing her so small...

"So, if I just satisfy you..." You reach out and gently brush your knuckles along her soft cheek. Moka leans into your touch, her deep brown eyes gazing up. Your fingertips push through her silky dark hair and cup her delicate chin. As she stares at you, you can feel the deep, yearning emotion within her. "Then you will stay with me."

"I think—"

You interrupt her with a kiss. Softly locking your lips, bringing her comfort. Just a moment, simple tenderness. Then passion, as you open your mouth and taste the pure sugar of her tongue. Slipping around yours, her hot exhale, her warmth, both erotic and meaningful.

You can only pull away by taking her with you, pulling her up from the chair. Eagerly, Moka smiles and steps into your arms. Squeezing her tight, holding her around the waist, breathing her scent, feeling the tension inside yourself. She kisses you back with the same intensity, lips tight on yours, warm and dripping as they open, teasing you with her sweet taste.

You stumble back towards the railing, bodies entwined. Tilting your head, her chocolate flavour can make anyone addicted. Kissing her, nipping, sucking, biting her lip. Sinking into her warmth, her body. Lifting the hem of her short gown, running your fingers along the silky skin of her thighs. She arches back into the wooden railing, and you break apart the kiss as she sinks into the support behind her.

You take hold of her shoulders and turn her. She braces against the railing and leans forward, showing off that inviting, delicate shape. Between the arch of her back and the curve of her cute ass, she begs to be taken. And that thin linen may as well not even be there; it's so taut, so transparent.

You move behind her. In the fading light of the evening, the shadows reveal more than they hide. Lifting the cloth and leaving her bare. Running your hands down the lines of her hips and sides, your fingers lightly trace back up her ribs and finally, you cup one of her light breasts. Her nipple presses into the palm of your hand, and she's so sensitive, arching at even the slightest touch.

She looks back at you, her eyes longing, knowing what comes next. Spreading your fingers down between her legs, you run them along the slick, wet flesh waiting for you. She's already ready, dripping, and your fingertips only tease her. Bending, lining up your rigid cock against her wetness. You place your other hand on her hip and ready yourself, preparing to push forward.

"I'll never grow tired of this," you say.

Moka looks back at you, blushing, hair over her face as she tries to look through the veil. Before she can respond, you push, and she lets out a sharp cry at being filled. With her firmly held, you slide in and out of her dripping cunt. It's not a frantic, hurried pace, but deep, intense thrusts that give Moka what she needs—give her relief.

"Ah! That's so deep... so deep."

Her moans spill out without restraint. Such a vibrant voice, full of the lusts she's harbouring. Holding her firmly, plunging deeper and faster, her tiny pussy wrapping tightly around you. Wet, slippery squishing echoes through the empty air. Slaps sounding with every time your crotch strikes hers. It's all so lewd and brings you ever closer, keeps driving you.

The deeper her chest falls, the more she arches, and a deep moan escapes as her body shakes. Her orgasm comes strong, fast, and powerful, making her legs quake and her voice stutter. But you hold her and keep fucking. Slipping against her back, clinging to her waist, burying your face in her hair. Her trembling sex tenses and flexes and still she moans, incoherently telling you just how good it feels.

You've lost track of the number of times you've filled her tight cunt in the past few days, so this is just another one of many. She loves it, though; loves feeling you pour so deeply inside her. She'll do anything to feel it. So you fill her. Firm thrusts as you pump her full of your cum, right there on the porch.

During the moments she spends staring out the window, you run your hand down Moka's back. She hums a little sound, appreciating the act, and snuggles into the blanket further.

"Cold? I could go get the fire going again if you like."

Moka stares blankly, fixated on a flower just outside the window. She blinks and laughs suddenly.

"Hm? Sorry, what did you say?"

You repeat what you said and she quickly responds.

"It's alright, but there's something I need you to do."

"What is it?"

"Lie on the bed, let me ride you. I want to feel you fill me. I need it." She reaches a hand up and cradles her own breast, grasping at it and squeezing the supple mound.

It's getting worse—her constant need. Like an itch, she says. Something has to constantly be done to keep it from being painful. It's barely been two hours since you were last inside her, and it seems to be the only thing she can think about.

"Please. I just need a little more..."

You can't bring yourself to deny her. Not when she looks at you like that. So you stumble backwards, pulling her naked form along with you, and ungracefully land on your back. Already you're growing hard, just from looking up at her dainty body and recalling all the wonderful acts you have performed and thinking of what is yet to come.

Moka runs her hand through her hair and gazes downward, a serene look washing over her delicate features.

"Smiling suits you," you tell her.

Again, you watch her eyes light up at that little kind of praise. "Thank you," she says, blushing as she clambers across the bed to kneel above you. She fixes her knees on either side of your hips and runs her palms over your chest, teasing your body as her breasts sway before you.

"Oh..." she purrs as she rocks back and forth, rubbing her bare sex up and down your length. "Oh, yes..."

You hum with delight, but remain still for a moment, listening to the happy sounds she's making, letting her indulge in the simple foreplay.

Eventually, she can take it no longer. "Here..." She lifts herself with her thighs and wraps a single hand around your hardened cock, steadying it and gripping tight. With a single gasp, she guides you inside her. Her moisture envelops you and she's so tight, the way her pussy seems to suck you in all the way to the base. But once you reach that far point, you both let out a loud moan of satisfaction. She's got all of you, every last inch of your shaft has found its home inside her.

Moka rests there for a moment, staring down with these innocent, almost vulnerable brown eyes. From the soft feeling of her velvety interior and the cute, lewd look of her blissful face, you can't help yourself, and buck up into her, plunging even further in. She lets out a gasp and stumbles forward, catching herself on your chest.

"I'm sorry! Are you alright?" you ask.

The dark-haired girl giggles—something that pleases you more than you can describe—and returns to that dainty smile. She pulls her hips and then drives them against you, before groaning, "More than alright."

Moka finds her rhythm. Rolling and grinding her hips, each motion punctuated by her spiking arousal. Her small cunt welcomes the friction, drips with desire. You grip her waist, helping her balance as she bounces in your lap, pushing herself harder and faster each time. She pushes harder, taking more of you, and soon she's crying out your name, begging you to fill her with everything you have.

Her gorgeous form rocks above you. Thrusting vigorously, her little breasts barely bouncing in a way that you can't take your eyes away from. Moka digs her nails into your chest. Her moans and cries grow increasingly desperate.

"You're amazing," Moka moans through her pleasure, voice quivering and trembling with it.

You can feel her clenching tighter and tighter, her insides quaking as she begs, and pleads for release. It brings your climax close, and despite the urgency of her pleasure, she maintains a controlled rhythm. Not so fast as to short-circuit things, keeping you on the very edge of euphoria.

"God, I love the way you..." she exclaims as a bright flush blossoms across her face. She sinks her teeth into her lower lip, muting her sound.

"What?" you struggle to speak as her slick folds wrap so tightly around you.

You don't know what it is, but something catches her attention. Her movements slow and she's searching, somehow peering through the dark outside. The noise has stopped too, usually at night there's a cacophony of singing insects and rustling, fluttering wings, but now nothing. No wind or creak or creasing leaf. Quiet. Dead quiet.

Moka slips off of your cock and crawls backwards to the end of the bed.

"What is it?" you ask.

Moka's lips twitch. Anxiety sets in over her features and she steps away from the bed, toward the window. Moonlight kisses her skin, the pale rays dancing on her shadowy form. Your heart falters and you realise... you really do want her here. Like this. Always.

"Moka?"

A strong gust blows and the window swings open. Her silky hair whips against her face, catching on her lips. She raises her hand, fingers hovering lightly in the moonlight. You remain motionless in fear of breaking whatever is occurring. Nothing feels right, not a single thing. As if the fabric of reality has been slashed in two.

The wind howls. The lights flicker and the fireplace across the room somehow brings itself to light. She turns to face it and the flames illuminate Moka's eyes. They glow a pale violet, the hue all wrong, ghostly. A tremble comes over her, and she says just five words. The last five words you'll ever hear from her.

"I'm sorry. I'll miss you."

Her hand turns to dust. The grains reflect the moon as they blow out of the window. You watch as the rest of her body follows, leaving only the imprint of where she once stood.

Time moves slowly—too slowly—like your heart, which can't beat. Something has broken, something in you, though not a sound passes through your lips. Tears stream from your eyes. The pain, the sorrow, the emptiness—it all feels irreparable. You can't bear it, and without a single word, without a single sound, the world goes black.

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sunny-knight · 26 days ago

Text

@forgettable-au Babybones Fancomic ✨

“Keep Reading” for the rest :3 (10 Pages)

*deep breath*

you hear that?

thats the sound of AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

ok. I spent. 31 Hours of my life on this. And i dont regret. a GODAMN thing.

i will go on, but first, A N A L Y S I S

PAGE 1

The title “Radio Star” comes from the song “Video Killed The Radio Star” by The Buggles. Its lyrics I believe are absolutely perfect for this AU, Examples being “Rewritten by machine and new technology” , “We hear the playback and it seemed so long ago” , and “We cant rewind we’ve gone too far”

The title also refers to how…1, they build a radio-

and 2, Sans calls Papyrus a Star at Grillbys if you call him “uncool”

PAGE 2

Nothing to note

PAGE 3

This is the first real scene I had in mind. The entire concept came from me imagining how Sans’ memories of Wingdings got overwritten, so where in memories he’d call Wingdings by his name, he calls him Papyrus.

In an animation with audio, itd be like “Aw cmon, P A P Y R U S” and be a silly little jumpscare.

Buttttt then ofc the idea turned into a thing where I couldn’t shape it into a “fake” memory.

I wanted to play with their characters as they WERE not how they remember them being.

PAGE 4

Nothing

PAGE 5

As they travel to the barrier, Wingdings is leading, and COMPLETELY focused on his goal. Ignoring Gerson (social interaction) while Sans takes his time and looks around getting “distracted”. This exemplifies the nature of their relationship.

Them in Hotland, they’re actually right next to the lab. Taking the elevator the guards were…guarding. So Sans is looking at the lab like “hey. Hey wingdings, look, look at that building, thats so cool”

PAGE 6

At the bottom is just another example of Wingdings being deadset on his goal, while Sans is helping out but still stopping to smell the flowers

PAGE 7

This panel makes me so happy-

It works??? vs It works!!!

Wingdings doesn’t come across as the kind of guy to doubt himself, I just think he’d be shocked at himself regardless that he pulled this off. Meanwhile Sans is just thrilled 😭

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N/A

PAGE 9

Oh boy this is the finale of explanation.

This conversation that Asgore and Sans have. Is REALLY important to me

Asgore/everyone that isnt sans, cannot understand Wingdings. So, Sans is talking for him. It may come across as him taking all the glory or whatever, but NO. look at his dialogue boxes! they’re not blocking out WD, and he’s like “YEAH 😊 MY BROTHERS SO FUCKING COOL”

Meanwhile Asgores boxes are completely blocking WD out. He thinks Sans built it cause hes doing all the explaining, and Sans isnt getting the hint that Asgore THINKS THAT HE MADE IT its a whole thing

Wingdings appreciates Sans, but he doesn’t appreciate people thinking he did all the work-

Asgores dialogue box when asking “How did you build such a thing??” is covering Wingdings, and he’s looking at SANS. he’s asking Sans how he built it, meanwhile Sans, still not getting the clue, is looking at wingdings like “:) cmon bro, tell him, you know ill translate for you!”

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Sans then understands at least that Wingdings does not want to indulge this- and goes into explaining mode, as hes done it so many times before-

Sans saying “You cant understand him” instead of something like “his font is hard to understand” is important because he is putting the “blame” on you. He’s fully aware this is something Wingdings WISHES he could change about himself so badly, so he just kinda naturally changes his tone which I find really fun when writing dialogue :3

This comic, I feel is an example of how much this AU/comic series means to me-

As much as I obsess over and LOVE comics as a medium, this is the first ever I have ever properly finished. ofc there have been like 2 page ones, but YEAH this is the first BIG one i have ever finished in my entire life.

These characters- as much as they’re Tobys, they are also Sunsestarts in my opinion. The situation they are put in of JUST the font trouble alone is something i’m SO fascinated by and clearly- had the time of my LIFE writing and playing with. And thats ignoring all the other shit that happens BECAUSE of that.

Undertale is special, The Forgettable AU is SPECIAL- THESE SKELETONS ARE SPECIAL

Im on the edge of my seat waiting to see what happens next because I know whatever it is, its gonna be special

also, I made this while listening to Slipping Through My Fingers on repeat. I regret nothing

((ALSO I HIGHLY RECOMMEND TIME/SPACE BY ALEX G, ITS A GREAT SONG IM DEFINITELY GONNA STORYBOARD A FORGETTABLE AMV TO CAUSE ITS REALLY REALLY GOOD, ID TOTALLY TIE IT TO THIS COMIC- BUT ITS MORE FOR PAPYRUS AND GASTER INTERACTIONS RATHER THAN BABYBONES???)

#undertale #undertale fanart #forgettable au #forgettable au comic #forgettable au fanart #undertale comic #undertale fan comic #papyrus undertale #sans undertale #undertale au

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joelscruff · 10 months ago

Text

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART TEN

masterlist | kofi | notifs | *spongebob narrator voice* 4 months later. well, i'm not gonna bore you all with excuses, god knows most of you have heard what's been goin' on with me at this point lmao. but yall have been so patient and lovely and i really really appreciate it. i hope you enjoy this chapter; it's a little bit of bliss before things get... interesting. there's still more to come (about four chapters or so) and i'll try to update much sooner next time but please remember i'm only one person & i write this for fun (and for free) in my spare time!!! ik it can be frustrating when there are long periods between updates but i'm trying my best, please know that. k love u bye 💕 chapter summary: you & joel enjoy your little weekend getaway, far from the prying eyes and ears of your parents. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age gap (reader is early 20s, joel is mid 50s), unprotected p in v sex, creampies, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink (joel has a big dick), tummy bulge, deepthroating (or...attempted deepthroating), cum swallowing, fingering, pussy kisses, ridiculous amounts of fluff, namedropping one of my fav songs of all time because i can, the tiniest mention of sexual assault (aka noah) word count: 12.9k ao3

You think you might finally understand what it means to experience happiness.

Not the feelings you've faked for most of your life, not the plastered-on smiles and faux giggles, autopilot prayers and forced gratitude. No - real happiness. That tingling sensation of nothing but pure bliss, safety, love, and peace, something that's felt far out of your reach for most of your life. It swells in your chest, makes a home in your heart as you nuzzle into fluffy pillows, warm bedsheets, and feel yourself drift in and out of consciousness, completely and utterly relaxed. Happy, you can't help but think to yourself, I'm so happy.

You're aware of Joel's presence, fading in and out here and there as he wipes a damp cloth between your legs, across your stomach, down your thighs - taking care of you, making sure you're comfortable. Afterward he cuddles in behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, buries his face in the back of your neck and inhales deeply; you wonder if he's feeling the exact same way you are right now - god, you hope he is.

"That felt so good," you murmur to him softly, eyes still closed, "Felt so good, Joel."

He kisses your neck, holds you tighter in his embrace, "I know, babygirl."

"Can still feel you inside me," you breathe, "It's like you're still there."

He chuckles softly, "Not to burst your bubble but that's probably cum. Couldn't get all of it with the cloth." The words that should be dirty - should seem shameful - do nothing but send a warm tingle down your spine, a sleepy smile to your face. You know he's right - you can still feel something warm deep inside you, a slow trickle making its way to your opening, but there's something else. You're still pulsing every so often around the phantom of a shape, an echo of what was still there only a few moments ago.

"It's not just that," you shuffle in the sheets, nuzzling your face further into the pillow, "it's like... like you're still in there, spreading me open."

He groans and his grip around you tightens, fingertips pressing into the malleable softness of your belly. He leans down to press a small kiss to your ear, "Can't just say stuff like that, angel. Gonna get me hard again." You shiver.

"Good," you whisper, "'Cause I want you to do it again."

His legs tangle with yours under the sheets as he pulls you in, scruff nuzzling against the bare skin of your shoulder, "We'll wait a little bit," he murmurs, "You're gonna start feelin' a little sore soon, if you don't already."

"I don't," you breathe, and you mean it. "Doesn't hurt at all, really. It... it didn't hurt. I always thought it would hurt."

You can almost feel his frown against your skin, "S'not supposed to hurt," he murmurs, "Woulda stopped if you'd been in any pain."

You smile, "I know you would've."

He hums into your hair, strokes his hand down along your arm, "S'good," he mumbles, and you're suddenly aware of the heaviness in his voice, the way his lips wrap lazily around the words.

"Are you sleepy?" you ask softly.

"Yeah, baby," he breathes, "M'sleepy."

You smile at the adorable admission, then lean back into his embrace and settle in. The sun is starting to go down, casting the room in long orange and blue shadows, warm and comforting. Your eyes close again and you focus on that blissful feeling, on the weight of Joel's naked body behind you holding you close, the sound of his breathing, his smell. On the fact that you've never felt more safe in your entire life.

"I'm so glad it was you," you whisper, and you don't mind if he's already fallen asleep.

You're not sure how long you both nap, but you wake up soon after to a completely dark hotel room, save for the flickering lights from the traffic below and the warm glow of the buildings outside the window. Your eyes flutter for a few seconds as your brain reconnects you to the present, and you're suddenly very aware of a dull ache in your groin, an unpleasant throb that hadn't been there earlier.

"Ow," you mumble incoherently, reaching blindly for the blankets and pulling them back to peer down at yourself, but the room is so dark that it's difficult to see anything properly, "Ow."

"S'wrong?" you hear Joel mumble beside you, stirring from his own slumber.

You wince in embarrassment, shaking your head, "It's nothing, go back to sleep."

"Y'said 'ow'," you feel him sit up and reach over to turn on the lamp, "You okay?"

As soon as the lamplight floods the room your eyes cast downward, half expecting to see some medical emergency, some horrific reason for the vacation to end early, to ruin everything before it's barely even started - but thankfully it's none of those things. You're just a little swollen - puffier than usual - and aching, but not in a good way. You bring your hand down and cup yourself gently, hissing a bit when your fingers brush against your opening; it feels almost like a bruise.

"Oh, honey," Joel murmurs, and you turn your head to see his brows furrowing in concern, "Y'sore?"

You wince, biting your lip, "Um, a little."

He frowns and pulls his own side of the blankets back, and you can't help the warmth that floods your cheeks when you see his exposed body; the dark hair wisping across his tan skin, his soft belly and strong thighs - and his cock, soft and heavy and impossible not to look at. You've seen him naked several times at this point but every time still somehow feels like the first, like it's brand new. You watch as he crawls downward and gently places his hand on top of yours.

"Lemme see," he murmurs softly, and you allow him to pull your hand back, exposing your sore pussy to him. His brow furrows, "Aw baby, you're all swollen."

"Is that normal?"

He nods, eyes still trailing up and down, "It's normal," he assures you, "It's probably worse 'cause - well," he smiles sheepishly, peering up at you.

"'Cause you're so big," you finish for him, your own lips turning up into a smirk, and he chuckles.

"Yeah, that." You watch as he brings his hands down and very carefully thumbs your outer lips, pulls them apart to assess what's inside. He groans, and you're about to ask what's wrong when you see a thin stream of his cum dribble out onto the sheets below.

"Fuck," you both whisper at the same time, and when your eyes meet you can see that his are suddenly dark, glassy. You feel yourself begin to throb beneath his touch.

"Still full o'me," he murmurs, eyes trailing back down to where you're dripping, "Messy girl."

Your own eyes go hooded as you watch him lean down and press a small kiss to your clit; your hips buck up, a whimper slipping past your lips as his whiskers prickle deliciously against your sensitive skin. He smiles against you, kisses your clit again and darts his tongue out to taste, just for a moment. You whine.

"I know what you need, babygirl" he whispers, nosing your mound and closing his eyes, "I know what'll help."

Your mind races with possibilities. "Wh-what?"

He suddenly pulls back, crooked smile lighting up his beautiful face, "A bath. It'll help with the soreness." Oh. He presses another kiss to your clit, "If I can bring myself to stop kissin' this perfect pussy."

You giggle softly and he opens his eyes to look up at you again, smiling tenderly. He reluctantly pulls himself off you and climbs off the bed, reaching down to grab his discarded underwear from the floor. "I'll start runnin' the water," he tells you softly, pulling them on and taking a step forward to brush your hair out of your face, "You just relax, sweet girl. Don't move a muscle."

The bath is warm and inviting, lit candles lining the counter and floor and dousing the room in a warm glow; it's hard to believe only a few hours earlier you were on the verge of a panic attack on these very tiles. Now you lean back against the cool rim of the claw foot tub, eyes closed as you submerge yourself in the hot water. There's no panic or anxiety in your body anymore, just warmth and comfort and the welcome ache in your groin, the smell of vanilla in your nose.

"Good temp?" Joel asks softly nearby, and you hear his hand breach the surface of the water, testing the heat. You smile.

"Perfect," you breathe, eyes still closed, "Thank you."

His hand brushes lightly against yours under the water and he squeezes it gently, then murmurs, "I'll give you some privacy."

Your eyes snap open, "No," you cradle his hand in both of yours as your brows furrow, "Stay."

A smile breaks across his face, charming and boyish as he seats himself down next to the bathtub with barely any hesitation, like he'd been hoping you'd say that. He keeps hold of your hand beneath the water and tilts his face toward yours - you press your forehead against his and breathe a long sigh of relief.

"Feelin' okay?" he murmurs, "Emotionally?"

You nod, sighing contentedly, "More than okay," you whisper, "I... I still can't believe it actually happened." Your lips twitch upward and you press a soft kiss to his cheek, closing your eyes, "Thank you."

He squeezes your hand again beneath the water before pulling out and bringing it upwards to cradle your face, tilting your head to look at him. His eyes are still a bit sleepy, hair sticking up in all directions and that beautiful smile still lighting up his face as he thumbs your cheek.

"I should be thankin' you," he breathes, "For trustin' me like that, bein' so vulnerable with me." He leans in to kiss you tenderly, but his words send a sudden flutter of insecurity through your body and you pull back to look at him again, unsure.

"Was I... was I good at it?" you ask quietly, "Did I do okay?"

"Oh, angel," he murmurs, bringing his other hand up to cup both your cheeks and brush his nose gently against yours, "You did so good. So, so, so good."

He ends up washing your hair, a small but significant gesture that makes the feelings from earlier bubble up again, the warm fondness and tenderness and love. You lean back in the tub, eyes closed, lost in the sensations of his big hands deftly applying the shampoo and conditioner, massaging it into your scalp and making your eyes roll back. It's ridiculous how even this makes you throb beneath the surface, the ache dissipating a bit in the hot water. So much so that when he caps the conditioner and rinses your hair once again, you reach up to take his hand and squeeze, eyes still shut.

"Touch me," you whisper, voice already desperate, "Please."

He doesn't need any convincing, inching toward the side of the tub and reaching inside to cup your pussy in his big hand again, softly rubbing your clit. You whimper and tremble, gripping the edge of the tub for support and whining when he speeds up, circling and rubbing it exactly how you like it.

"Poor little pussy," you hear him murmur, "Just needs some relief after gettin' fucked like that, doesn't she baby?"

"Mmhmm," you manage to hum, squeezing the sides of the tub and nodding furiously, "Y-yeah."

"Took so much cock in this little hole," he whispers, and that's enough to send you over the edge, eyes snapping open as you shake and shiver in the hot water. You see him sitting there, smiling at you with a devious glint in his eyes. He knows exactly the effect he has on you.

"What do we do now?" you ask him softly from the couch a little while later, carefully scrunching a towel in your hair and watching as he changes the bedsheets upon your request - you'd felt a bit embarrassed asking, but you'd really rather not sleep in a wet spot. He'd been more than gracious in honoring your request.

It's late, but the nap and the bath have left you feeling wide awake, and you have to admit that you're feeling a bit hungry too despite the full meal earlier. Does sex make you hungry? You file it as a question to ask Tasha.

"Whatever you wanna do, darlin'," he says with a smile, turning down the sheets and gesturing for you to join him in bed again, "C'mere."

You give your hair one last squeeze and pad over to the bed, clad in Joel's Grateful Dead shirt from earlier today. You don't care in the slightest that it's not necessarily the cleanest article of clothing to be wearing after a bath - it smells like him, feels like him. You just can't get enough of him.

Insatiable.

You both climb back into bed and he pulls you in immediately, tugging you close and wrapping his big arms around you. You lean back into him and feel yourself grinning without even really thinking about it, eyes closing as you focus on the feeling of his chest moving back and forth against your back with every breath.

"Always look so pretty in my shirts, babygirl," he whispers in your ear, and it sends tingles down your spine, a rush of warmth to your heart. He kisses you gently and you listen as he inhales deeply, nose buried in your damp hair. His hand travels downward and you both watch as he cups your pussy yet again, warm and soft.

"Feelin' a little better?" he asks quietly, thumb trailing gently up and down your outer lips, "Still sore?"

"Better," you reassure him gently - and you mean it; the warm water did help to ease the ache.

He hums and continues to trace your soft lips, nosing your ear and breathing deeply again, and fuck, you could get used to this. This casual intimacy, being touched without any expectations, any fear or anxiety. Feeling safe and wanted and cared for in his embrace, no worrying about getting home early, no time limit looming. Just you and him.

I love you, you want to whisper.

Your stomach growls.

He removes his hand almost immediately. "Room service," he says with a chuckle, and your eyes snap open again as he reaches over and grabs the menu on the nightstand, placing it in front of you both, "Pick your poison."

Your eyes are drawn almost immediately to the dessert section, followed by a short wave of guilt. You're craving something sweet, but you can't help but think back to being a kid again, asking for treats and being denied, feeling as if your desires were unimportant, childish, silly.

But no, you're not that scared kid anymore. You're not. You won't be.

You bite your lip, "You know what I could really go for right now?"

"What?"

"It's silly, but-"

"It ain't silly, babygirl," he murmurs, and his big hand travels down to squeeze your thigh gently, a comforting gesture, "Whatever it is, it ain't silly."

Less than a minute later he's on the phone with room service, ordering you a hot fudge sundae.

You spend the rest of the night nestled in the warmth of your hotel bed, flicking between channels, legs tangled together beneath the sheets as you take turns scooping heaping spoons of ice cream back and forth. Your mouth and fingertips are sticky, chocolate lining your lips, dribbles of melted vanilla dolloped on your chin which Joel wastes no time in delicately lapping up with his tongue.

"God, you're so fuckin' sweet," he whispers to you, kisses you softly, darts his tongue out to taste again. You hum against his lips and try to keep your emotions at bay; he tastes like chocolate and vanilla and safety.

Waking up is different with the morning sun shining brightly through the hotel windows, but that's not the only thing that's different; you notice as your eyes flutter open that the ache in your groin is gone, replaced by a growing hunger and arousal in the pit of your stomach.

Oh, wow.

Joel's arms are around you, wrapped strong and solid, and when you turn within them and see him sleeping next to you, the hunger only grows. God, he's so handsome like this - the grey in his hair sparkling in the early light, jaw soft and lax with sleep, cheeks flushed. Almost angelic in his own way, gentle and peaceful.

Until his eyelashes begin to flutter delicately against the streams of sunlight, brow furrowing in sleepy confusion at your sudden movement; he's awake.

The desire in your belly burns.

"You look so cute," you whisper without even really thinking about it, and his eyelashes halt their fluttering to give you another look of confusion.

"Cute's not exactly a word I'd use to describe myself," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep, "S'all you."

"Well, I would," you reply with a smile, watching as he closes his eyes again and nestles his face into the pillow. You reach forward to gently thumb one of the lines at the corner of his mouth, deep-set and soft beneath your touch. His eyelids twitch but he doesn't open them, "You're so soft too," you admit quietly.

"Again," he breathes, lips turning up slightly into a sleepy smile, "Not a word I'd use."

"Cute and soft," you repeat, thumb moving downward to trace the shape of his bottom lip, "And mine."

He chuckles under his breath, face smooshing a little more into the pillow, "M'yours," he murmurs, "all yours."

All yours.

You lean in even closer and inhale deeply, nose trailing up and down along his temple. Your eyes almost roll back at the scent of him, the masculine and heady aroma of his sweat alighting your senses. You're wide awake now, pussy throbbing somewhere below as you press a kiss to the apple of his cheek, tongue darting out to taste his skin.

His eyes open halfway, eyebrow raising as he sleepily watches you work your mouth up and down the side of his face, breath coming quicker and more frantic as your legs wind around him under the sheets. Obliging your desperation, his big arms tighten around you and he rolls the both of you, allowing you to settle on top of his large, warm body.

You stare down at him, hunger clear in your eyes.

"You were inside me," you whisper.

His mouth turns up at the corners, "I was."

"It felt really good."

"It did."

You lean your face down to trace your nose along his cheekbone again, eyes hooded, voice needy.

"I want you to be inside me again."

He peers up at you, sleepiness already fading from his expression as he watches yours with mirrored desire, "Yeah? You want me to be inside you right now?"

You nod, "Yes, please."

"Then turn over on your side, angel."

A little confused but certainly not opposed, you do as he says, rolling back over onto your side and resting your head softly against your pillow. You feel his hand dip downwards beneath the sheets, then his fingertips glide smoothly along your abdomen. Your heart hammers in your chest when he lifts up your - or rather, his - shirt and thumbs your tummy gently.

"Are y'still sore?" he murmurs, "How d'you feel?"

"M'wet, Joel," you whimper, grinding back against the blankets and trying to feel him, "M'really wet."

"Lemme feel," he breathes, hand trailing downward even further. His fingers dip into your soft, soaked centre and a low groan rumbles in his throat, "Oh babygirl, so wet for me."

"Put it in," you whimper, not caring how pathetic and needy you probably sound, "Please, Joel, put it in me again."

"Christ," you hear him mutter, arousal burning in his voice, "Okay baby, hold still, I'll put it in. I'll make you feel better."

Seconds later you feel the heat of his tip crowding the space at your entrance, already wet and sticky. A soft moan falls from your throat at the sensation, eyes closing as you feel Joel's hand cup your leg and pull it upwards, holding you open. He hooks it in the crook of his arm, shuffling forward a bit and pushing the head of his cock inside your heat.

"Oh, fuck," you whine, head falling backwards. You feel his nose in your hair again, feel the stretch of your pussy and the widening of your thighs as he pulls your leg up even more.

"Yeah, there you go," he murmurs, pushing inside further. He goes slow, takes his time, until he's fully sheathed inside of you and your eyes are rolling back on their own accord, quiet whimpers tumbling past your lips. "Yeah, look at you takin' that cock."

As if by muscle memory your hand reaches downwards to cup the protruding shape of him at the bottom of your tummy, a low whine in your throat. He's so big inside you, nestled perfectly within the deepest parts of your body just like he'd been last night, large and warm.

"Feels so good," you manage to gasp out, other hand clenching into a fist against your pillow, "So good, so good." It's almost a mantra, voice breathless as you squish your face against the cotton and push back almost lazily against him, his balls settling heavy and warm at the base of your ass. You can feel every twitch of his shaft, the way the tip pulses against that special spot within.

"Yeah, you like bein' full like that, don't you baby?" he murmurs, "Don't even need me to move, do you? Just like feelin' it in there, huh?"

And you almost hate how right he is, how just the sensation of being so full of him already has you on the edge of an orgasm without any stimulation. Because you want more, you want what he gave you last night, want him to fuck you even firmer, deeper, without holding back. You want it to last hours.

But you know it's too much before he even starts to move, that familiar ache in your groin returning as your walls constrict around the long shape of him. He pulls out slowly, takes his time, pushes back in at a snail's pace. You feel a tickling sensation against your clit, his pubic hair pressing deliciously against the wet skin as he fills you - and without any warning, you start to come.

"Fuckfuckfuck," you cry out into the sunlit hotel room, trembling in his arms, legs shaking. You can tell in his body language behind you that he's taken aback by your sudden release, hand suddenly dropping from your calf so he can palm your sternum and pull you against him.

"Oh, honey," he groans, simultaneously tender and aroused, "Are you comin', baby? You comin' just from bein' stuffed full like that?"

"Yes," you grit out, voice a high keen as your body shakes and your release stretches out before the both of you in quick spasms, "Yes, I'm sorry."

"Nonono, no sorries," his voice is honey in your ear, fingertips grazing your nipples as he lays his palm flat against your chest, "You're a good girl, angel. You're such a good girl."

You continue to spasm on his cock, legs quivering and pathetic whines tearing from your throat until your orgasm has passed and you're just leaning back into his embrace, eyes closed. You breathe deeply, lashes fluttering when he noses your jaw and presses a soft kiss to the space beneath.

"S'alot for you," he murmurs, "I know it's a lot, babygirl. Don't ever gotta apologize for comin' too fast, not to me."

You hum softly, still extremely aware of his girthy size stretching you out somewhere below. Your eyes open and you peer downwards, brows scrunching in wonder and pleasure when you see where you're joined, where his flesh meets yours. You really are full, the base of his cock barely visible beneath your folds, the pubic hair that had caused your early release still pressed against your outer lips.

"How does it even fit?" you ask softly, almost by accident, but he just chuckles.

"The human body is a hell of a thing," he murmurs, kissing your cheek and pulling you in even closer, shuffling you on his dick just a little bit and making you wince a bit with oversensitivity, "You want me to pull out?"

"No," you shake your head and readjust yourself in his embrace, taking a breath, "No, I want you to keep going."

"Y'sure?"

"I'm sure."

He doesn't need telling twice. Within seconds he's resumed his slow and careful thrusts, almost rhythmic in their presses and pulls, filling you and emptying you in melodic succession. You reach down and take his big hand in yours, squeeze his fingers and let him fuck you like he had last night - tender, soft, comfortable. It almost doesn't feel real; how are you in a hotel room in another city, wrapped up in bed with a man three times your age, his cock buried to the hilt inside your body while you whimper and twitch in his arms? How did you get here?

"Y'know, women are a bit different than men in the orgasm department," Joel says gently behind you, stroking your hand with his thumb, "You might be able to come again if we try."

Your eyebrows go up, "Really?"

"Mmhmm," his hand slips from yours and he reaches it downward to carefully prod one of his fingers against your sensitive clit. You buck in his arms but don't protest, watching as he temporarily halts his slow thrusts to rub you softly. Your eyes go hooded, body melting like jelly in his arms as his his thick fingers slowly begin to work against the already swollen bud.

"Feel good?" he whispers.

"Yes."

He continues his careful circling, presses a kiss to your shoulder and resumes fucking into you. The sounds are pornographic in nature, surrounding your senses and filling the room with the low slap of his hips against your ass and the wet squelch of your juices dripping down his palm. But it somehow doesn't feel dirty or shameful - in fact, it's hard to imagine anything that feels more right than this.

"Joel," you breathe shakily, face twisting against the pillow again, heart pounding.

"I know, feels good doesn't it, babygirl?" he noses your skin and breathes you in, hooks your leg under his arm a bit more and groans softly, "God, you're so fuckin' tight. Such a tight fuckin' pussy."

It's your pussy, you want to breathe, it's yours. I'm yours. But you can barely get any words out as his thrusts pick up speed, as the sounds get louder and his fingers against your clit become firmer in their movements. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge again, the fire in your belly burning hotter than ever as you let him crowd your space as much as possible, let his body push yours further and further until your eyes are rolling back and all you can feel is the steady thrust of his big cock and the girth of his fingers against your pussy.

"I'm coming," you moan out weakly, "M'coming again, Joel."

You don't hear what he says in response, ears muffled as if you're underwater, pleasure spreading throughout your body and hitting you at full force like a hurricane as he fucks you through it. You're barely aware of the sounds you're making, high pitched and almost feral as his hips slap against yours a few more times. And then you feel it, the hot pulses of his cum painting your insides, filling you up as his cock spasms and twitches deep inside.

"Oh, fuck," he groans, voice thick with pleasure and sleep as he buries his face in your hair, hips stuttering, "Fuck. Take it, there you go."

Yeah, you could get used to this.

You'd been pretty sure you wouldn't leave the hotel room this weekend, just like you'd told him a few days prior. The thought of staying wrapped up in bedsheets, warm bodies pressed up against each other, sharing soft kisses and quiet whispers and tender looks...it'd be more than enough for an enjoyable getaway.

But it's hot, way hotter than you'd anticipated before arriving - and the pool is calling your name.

Or maybe something else is calling your name.

You stand in the bathroom and stare at your bikini clad form, a smile curving your lips as you assess the thin straps and baby pink frills. To think you'd tried to return this to Joel, briefly refused to wear it. Now you're about to don it in front of a hotel pool full of people like a normal woman, like someone without shame, without guilt, without a mother who'd skin her alive if she saw her wearing it.

Your smile falters.

You'd texted your mother after getting out of bed, apologized once again for missing her calls last night and told her you had a "busy" day at the festival ahead of you, that you'd let her know when you leave tomorrow. All she'd said in response was Ok.

You'd climbed back into bed defeatedly, finding a home against Joel's naked form, "She's mad at me," you'd murmured softly against his bare chest, squished into his side with his heartbeat thrumming in your ear.

"Don't think about her right now," he'd whispered, carding his fingers gently through your hair, "Think about this. How this feels."

He'd peered at you so softly, so full of warmth and affection. Those three words had been on the tip of your tongue again, so close to tumbling past your swollen lips - but you'd held it in.

It hadn't stopped you from texting Tasha though:

we had sex and i love him.

UM!! UMMM!!!! DETAILS????

monday!!! i'll call you

🫡 ok slut just leave me hangin i see how it is. AT LEAST TELL ME HE LIKED THE LINGERIE.

oh he liked it :)

queen shit

"Hi, pretty girl," Joel's voice says suddenly, and you're snapped from your reflection in the mirror to find him leaning against the doorway, clad in a pair of swim trunks and a Bob Dylan t-shirt, "Look at you."

You pose a little bit, hand on your hip, "Think the pool boys will like it?"

He laughs lightly, shaking his head, "I don't doubt it, but they might have some competition." He holds out his hand for you and you take it, stepping forward to let him pull you in close.

"They couldn't hold a candle to you," you whisper honestly, and he kisses your forehead with a smile, thumbing the corner of your mouth.

"Wait 'til you see my breaststroke, that'll really get you goin'."

You snort and slap his arm playfully, "Lead the way, pool boy."

Joel may have just been teasing about his swimming ability, but he certainly hadn't been wrong about it getting you going. You watch from the comfort of a lounge chair as he whips back and forth across the broad expanse of the hotel pool like a bullet, kicking off from end to end without much effort at all. His arms are strong and lean, body fast and nimble as the water splashes around his broad form. Every so often his face peeks up from the water and you catch a glimpse of his drenched scruff, the way the greying locks of his hair curl down his forehead into his eyes. God, he's fucking gorgeous.

You're laid out in your bikini just watching, letting him expel some energy before you join him. He'd told you he likes swimming but doesn't get to do it as much as he'd like, what with his work responsibilities. You wonder if he'd ever want to swim in your parent's pool...

You shake the thought away as soon as you think of it. There's no feasible way that could work, no option that wouldn't involve an obscene amount of risk. But still... the thought of watching him from the comfort of your own backyard, just completely alone without any bystanders or hotel guests...

"You gonna join me or what?" Joel suddenly calls from the water, and you blink the thoughts away and throw him a grin. He wades near the shallow end, arms coming up to lean against the concrete edge as he peers at you. "Don't keep me waitin', baby."

You feel your cheeks warm, unable to help but glance back and forth to see if anyone is watching, listening. Everyone else seems to be minding their own business, lost in their own conversations, their own fun. Nobody cares that you're here with him. Nobody cares what you're wearing.

Slipping from the lounge chair, you totter over to the edge where Joel resides and slowly sink down onto the concrete, kicking your legs over the side to seat yourself in front of him.

"God, these legs," he almost groans, immediately taking one in his hands and massaging your calf, your knee, your thigh, "Look at you."

"Stop acting like you haven't seen me naked," you tease, though you still feel a bit shy underneath his gaze as he moves his attention to your other leg.

"Doesn't mean I'm gonna stop admirin' this body," he seems lost in his own movements as he caresses the space behind your knee, "You're so god damn beautiful." His hands suddenly wrap around your waist and without much warning he's carefully pulling you down into the water, moving you in close. On instinct your arms come up to wrap around his neck.

"How the hell am I here with you right now, huh?" he murmurs, leaning down to brush his nose gently against yours, "How're you even real?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you reply a little breathlessly, "I've been asking myself that since we got here."

He slowly turns your bodies in the water, peering down into your eyes like you're the only people here - and you might as well be. You're unable to stop yourself from leaning up to press a kiss to his lips, from letting your tongue dart out to gently explore his mouth; he tastes like toothpaste and chlorine.

"Y'gonna swim with me?" he asks after you've pulled away, pupils blown a bit wider, "Gonna put that little swimsuit to good use?"

"I think I'm putting it to good use right now," you breathe, inching closer so your breasts are pushing against his chest. You're genuinely surprising yourself at your own boldness, especially in such a crowded place - it's almost like you're a different person here, the person you're supposed to be, confidence coursing through your veins. You stand on your tiptoes beneath the water, bringing one of your legs up to wind around his waist.

"Hmm," he hums, and his face is still dripping with water, the wrinkles in his skin peppered with little droplets that make you crazy, "You do have a point there, darlin'."

You lean in again to kiss him, feel a burst of pride in your chest when you see the sudden hunger and arousal in his expression. Just before your lips touch however, you pull back from him and throw yourself into the water, turning back to toss him a cheeky grin.

"Gotta catch me first," you giggle, then speed off in the opposite direction, leaving him standing there with a look of surprise etched on his face - followed quickly by a look of determination.

"Oh, I will," he practically growls, diving into the water in the same manner and reaching out to grab your ankle.

Time passes quickly in the pool, Joel chasing you back and forth, catching you time and time again until you're a giggling mess with tears streaming down your face and his fingers pinching your sides. You can't remember the last time you had this much fun, felt so free and light. You suppose your night out with Tasha had been a fun experience for the most part, until you remember the vague feeling of an unfamiliar body pressed against you from behind and the smell of alcohol crowding your senses on the dance floor.

No, don't think about that.

Before long you've exhausted yourselves, settled back near the edge of the pool where you started and just softly talking to each other. His big hands are all over you beneath the water, palms wide on your bare hips and tummy, caressing your thighs and your back, touching everywhere he can reach. You feel almost lightheaded with desire, eyes hooded as you peer up at him and tighten your arms around his neck, pull him closer and silently beg for more. You can feel the shape of his hardening cock through his swim trunks, pressed wet and heavy against your thigh. It makes you salivate.

You suddenly hook your chin into his shoulder, bury your face in his neck and whisper, "I wanna suck it, Joel."

"Yeah?" he murmurs, hands exploring your back and holding you tighter against him, letting you rut softly against his bulge, "You wanna go back to the room and suck on it, babygirl?"

You nod ferociously against him, "Yes. Please."

It doesn't take long at all for you both to be out of the pool and making your way back over to the chairs to grab your towels. It's frantic the way you rush to dry off, slipping back into your flip flops and shaking the water from your hair as quickly as possible. Joel follows suit, ruffling his own towel through his hair and making your body burn with need, lost in how sexy he looks with water droplets cascading down his large and strong form, dipping down his sternum and into his belly button. All you can think while you look at him is how badly you want to lick, to taste.

You're making your way back toward the entrance together when a woman runs up behind you, calling out, "Wait, hang on!" You both turn, confusion in your expressions as she reaches you and holds out something in her hand - your phone.

"I think you or your dad left this behind, sweetie," she says with a smile and places it in your grasp, "Gotta be careful!"

"Th-thank you," you manage to stutter out, eyes wide as she nods and turns away from you to head back toward the pool.

You stand there dumbstruck for a moment, thoughts muddled.

You or your dad.

Your dad.

You turn to Joel then. He's looking at you with what you can only describe as apprehension, lips downturned into a frown as he stands and waits for you to say something - anything. You stare back, words failing you.

And then you burst out laughing.

His apprehension turns into a smile, eyes crinkling at the corners as he laughs along with you and squeezes your hand in his tightly - as if to say, this isn't wrong, what we have isn't wrong and you know that. And you do, which is why he has to practically drag you back inside the hotel as you double over and heave out laugh after laugh, tears in your eyes.

"Silly girl," you hear him mumble under his breath fondly as he leads you to the elevator, and all you can do is keep giggling.

"I love your cock."

Your knees dig into the plush rug of the hotel room, ass sitting atop the balls of your feet as you kneel between Joel's wide legs. He's sitting comfortably on the couch, one hand resting to the side while the other strokes circles into the apple of your cheek. His cock is out of his swim trunks, heavy and hard in your palm as you slowly stroke him up and down, up and down, heart pounding in your chest.

You've done this to him before, you remind yourself, and he said it was good.

But not like this, another part of you argues, not properly.

"Yeah, you love it?" he murmurs, breaking you out of your thoughts. With his words his hand drops from your face and joins yours on his shaft, helps direct it toward your cheek so he can press the tip ever so gently against it, "What d'you love about it, baby? Tell me. Wanna know."

"It's so big, Joel," you practically whimper, brows furrowing together at the sensation of his warm stickiness on your face, "So big and so thick and long."

"I know, baby," he coos softly, smearing it along your jaw in a way that has goosebumps rising all over your flesh, "Bigger than your pretty face, huh?" At his words he delicately lays the length of his cock against your face from base to tip, lets it rest there as you close your eyes and try to calm your breathing. You're so fucking turned on.

"Big," you repeat, as if no other words can find their way to your brain, as if your brain doesn't even exist; all that exists is this. The feeling of his warm dick laying heavy across your face, precum leaking out onto your forehead.

"And what's it taste like, babygirl?" He's suddenly moving it downward, towards your mouth, and you happily lean forward to lap at the tip. It pulses against you, leaks onto the pink softness of your tongue. "Tell me what it tastes like."

"Kinda salty," you whisper, peering up at him with big eyes, "But good, it still tastes good to me." Your nose scrunches and you peer up at him sheepishly, "Tasha said it's not supposed to."

He laughs breathlessly, taps the tip against your bottom lip, and when more precum dribbles out you allow it to drip into your mouth. You swallow, eyes never leaving his, then swirl your tongue all around the head before slowly taking it into your mouth and suctioning carefully.

"God, you make me fuckin' crazy," his voice rumbles in his chest, eyes hooded, "Look at you suckin' on my cock." After a few seconds he pulls it out and taps your lips with it again, hissing a bit through his teeth, "Fuck, this mouth. And those eyes," his head leans back against the couch and he groans, low and deep, "You gotta stop lookin' at me like that, angel. M'not gonna last."

"How am I looking at you?" you ask shyly, a smile playing at your lips.

"Like... you're just so new to everything."

"But I am," you say with a breathless giggle, "It is new to me."

He smiles fondly down at you on your knees in front of him, so vulnerable, "I know," he tells you, "It makes me want you so bad."

"You have me," you whisper, leaning forward to mouth at the head of his cock once again, "M'yours, Joel."

His lids go heavy as you suckle gently on the tip again, reveling in the masculine taste of him and the way you can feel his heartbeat on the tip of your tongue. You suck it the same way you did last time - like a sucker or a popsicle - and you hope it feels good to him, hope you're doing it right.

"That's so good, baby," he murmurs, and you whimper at his praise.

You pop him out of your mouth and take a deep breath, peering up at him curiously, "Can...can you..."

His brow furrows, "Can I what, angel?"

"Can you show me how to... how to take all of it? Like, how to put it in my throat?"

The expression on his face is hard to describe, a mix of disbelief and untamed arousal. His mouth opens to speak but he doesn't say anything, taking a few seconds to formulate a response before clearing his throat and giving you a weak - and slightly wrecked - smile.

"Y'sure you wanna try that?" he asks you, ever the gentleman, "That's....it's a lot to take in your throat, babygirl."

"I know," you breathe, sincerity in your eyes, "But I wanna try."

He reaches down and thumbs a stray hair from your face, pushes it behind your ear, "You're probably gonna gag," he murmurs gently - a warning. "It might be uncomfortable for you."

You raise an eyebrow, "So... you don't want me to?"

He laughs breathlessly, "I... I didn't say I don't want it. But I don't want you to try something you don't feel ready for," he frowns, "Don't want you to feel any pressure with me."

"I don't," you admit honestly, "I don't feel any pressure, Joel, I promise. I just...really wanna try it. I want you to show me."

He takes a deep breath, strokes your cheek gently and then reaches down to hold the base of his cock again. Your hands fall to his thighs, still clad in his swim trunks.

"Lemme just see how far you can go without gaggin' first," he tells you softly, patiently, "Want you to stop when you feel it in that spot, okay? Don't go any further than that."

You nod, already beyond excited that you're learning something new, something that'll make him feel good. You open your mouth to take him back inside but he touches your face again, stopping you.

"Deep breath," he advises quietly. You do as you're told.

He helps guide the fat head of his cock past your lips, watches as you very slowly ease yourself down. You close your eyes, all your focus centered on this singular task, fighting to push past the slight discomfort of having your mouth stuffed so full. It takes barely a moment for you to reach the point he was talking about, when you feel the head of his cock brush ever so slightly against your gag reflex. On instinct, your eyes snap open, your entire body freezing in place.

"Right there?" he asks quietly, but you know he's not waiting for an answer, knows you couldn't talk even if you wanted to, "That's so much baby, good girl." His praise send throbs of pleasure to your pussy, warmth to your cheeks. Your eyes meet his and you can see how turned on he is, see the way the corners of his mouth twitch with pleasure. "Let go when you're ready, honey."

You hold yourself there for a few more seconds, eyes watering a little bit as you hold his gaze, just testing the power of your lungs and the strain of your jaw. When it becomes too much you pull your mouth off him and find yourself gasping for breath, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs as drool spills down your chin.

"How was that?" he asks, thumbing your cheek again with one hand and stroking himself with the other, working your saliva up and down his length, "Uncomfortable?"

You shake your head, "It was good," you whisper, voice a bit crackly, "I wanna try and take more, can I?"

He nods, smiles encouragingly and taps his swollen cockhead against your bottom lip again, slow and tantalizing, "Course you can, babygirl," he murmurs, "Deep breath."

You inhale deeply again, gathering as much air into your lungs as possible before sinking your mouth down onto him and allowing his thick girth to fill you all over again. This time when you feel him reach that spot, you let yourself keep going just a little bit further, allow the head of his cock to push more firmly against it and slip the tiniest bit into the back of your throat.

You gag immediately.

It's very loud; a dry wretch that you can admit sounds absolutely horrific in the current circumstance. Before you can even really process what to do next, he's tugging you off his cock, voice suddenly worried, frantic, "Okay, no, that's too much," he says quickly, and you look up to see him shaking his head, "You're gonna hurt yourself."

"M'fine," you try to garble out, but you're shocked when just talking suddenly sends you into a coughing fit. You bang on your chest and squeeze his thigh with your other hand, feeling more drool cascade down your chin and onto your bare chest.

"Angel," he says soothingly, leaning forward to pat your back, brows furrowed again in concern, "I'm sorry, honey."

You shake your head, "I-I'm okay," you splutter out, "Just gimme a second."

"It's too much," he repeats, almost pleading, "Please, baby, I don't wanna see you struggle, that's not fun for me."

As much as you hate the idea of giving up, you have to admit that he's right. That wretch had not been pleasant, and while you think you could eventually learn to take all of him, maybe forcing yourself to do it when you're supposed to be having fun on vacation isn't the best time.

"Okay," you mumble defeatedly, sitting back on your knees, "But I still wanna suck it."

He laughs again, relief flooding his features as he leans back on the couch and smiles crookedly at you, "You can still suck it, darlin'. Just take your time and don't push your limits, alright? Promise me."

"I promise."

You spend the next fifteen minutes or so playing with Joel's cock, stroking it with your hand, kitten licking along the shaft and head, just touching as much as you can without any time pressure for once. He pets your hair as he watches you, thumbs your cheeks and dimples, small groans tumbling past his lips, face scrunched in pleasure as you explore. You take as much of him as you can in your mouth, bob up and down slowly with your eyes trained on his face, feel the way his thick length twitches and pulses against your tongue.

It's almost feral the way you drink him down, hollowing your cheeks and basking in the way his body responds to you. You're so wet, aching to touch yourself but wanting this moment to be just for him, a thank you for this weekend, this hotel, for everything. Instead you palm his balls, roll them in your palm and revel in the desperate sounds he makes.

"I love your cock," you whine, repeating your earlier statement as you fist it up and down with spit pooling at the corners of your mouth, "I love it so much, Joel." You can feel yourself dripping in your bikini bottoms, feel your own slick gathering on your inner thighs.

"I know, baby," he gasps out, running one hand through his hair and the other through yours as his belly tenses and untenses, as his thighs tremble, "I know you love it, s'all yours, baby. S'your cock."

"My cock," you echo, almost a whimper, "Mine."

"Yours, it's yours," he moans loudly, hands curling into fists as his head hits the back of the couch, "Shit, I'm gonna come."

"Come in my mouth," you tell him immediately, wasting no time in sinking back down onto his length. He doesn't ask if you're sure; he's too far gone to be a gentleman anymore, and you love it. You watch as he suddenly sits up on the couch, reaches both hands forward and cradles your head in them firmly. He helps you move up and down, groaning as he does, and then-

His cock pulses on your tongue, thick and heavy, bobbing against the roof of your mouth. You feel a burst of cum hit the back of your throat, then another, and another, all the while Joel moans and holds your head in place, toes curling into the rug. Your eyes roll back as he fills your mouth, overwhelmed by the salty taste and thick texture, and - without really meaning to - you swallow around him to make more space. He practically whines at the sensation, pulsing once more to release one final burst of his spend.

And then he's falling back against the couch, cock popping out of your mouth, expression dazed. Without thinking about it you swallow the rest of his cum, eyelashes fluttering at the odd sensation of it all slipping down your throat. So much, gone in an instant. It's only then that you actually realize what you've done.

"I swallowed it," you say, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach, "Was I supposed to swallow it?"

He laughs softly, covers his mouth with the back of his hand, "It is perfectly fine that you swallowed it, darlin'," he smiles wide and opens his arms, "C'mere."

You clamor off your knees and crawl into his lap immediately, straddling his thighs and pressing your wet bikini bottoms against the slope of his belly. He lets out a little groan, pulls you in and strokes your hair.

"You did so good," he praises you softly, kisses your temple, "So good, baby. Made me come so much."

"There was a lot," you tell him, nuzzling into his neck and letting your breathing slowly even out, "S'why I swallowed it, I was trying to make room."

"Was it okay? It didn't make you gag, did it?"

You shake your head, a pout on your lips, "Felt good in my mouth," you whisper, "I liked it."

He hums, hands trailing from your hair to your bare back where he unclasps your bikini top and lets it cascade to the floor, then reaches down and tugs at your bottoms. You lift up carefully, let him slip them down your thighs and watches as you kick them off, leaving you fully naked in his lap.

"So pretty when you're bare like this," he whispers, and it sends more slick to your folds, oozing down and making a mess on his tummy. He cups your pussy in one hand and slides two fingers easily inside of you, thumb rubbing circles against your clit. You grip his arm, eyes falling closed and pitiful little sounds slipping from your mouth. "My good girl deserves a reward for suckin' my cock so good, swallowin' all that cum, don't you think?"

You nod, biting down on your lip and letting him fuck you with his digits, eyes rolling behind your lids.

"Yeah, you do," he answers for you, "You deserve it, angel. Always."

He makes you come easily, leaving you a messy, twitching heap in his lap as your arms wrap around his neck, body going lax and loose. After a few moments he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom, helps you into the shower, smiles when you peer blearily up at him through your afterglow.

"Just close your eyes and lean against me," he tells you softly as the water falls, removing his swim trunks and getting in to stand behind you, "I'll get you cleaned up, sweetheart."

You nap after your shower, exhausted and sated in every possible way. Joel wakes you up around two o'clock with more room service - sandwiches and soup that you devour with bright eyes and light conversation side by side in bed. It's domestic bliss the way he thumbs mustard from your lips, pours you more water, slices your key lime pie and feeds it to you with a fond smile.

I love you I love you I love you.

"Would it absolutely ruin this moment if I suggested tryin' our hand at a hymn?" he asks when you've both finished, wiping the crumbs on his fingers with a napkin and gesturing to his guitar case in the corner of the room.

You grimace, "I guess not."

"I'm just thinkin' about your parents," he places his hand on your hip - clad in another one of his shirts - and gives you a sympathetic smile, "It's probably best to pick somethin' and have it ready."

You nod. You know he's right, that your lack of preparedness these past few weeks has been pretty reckless considering it's been the entire "reason" you've been seeing him. With a sigh you slip out from under the covers and traipse over to the couch, listening as Joel unclasps the guitar case.

"I did some research," he tells you as he walks over, hooking the strap over his shoulders as he goes, "I think our best bet for an easy tune is How Great Thou Art. Pretty repetitive chord progression, only uses G, C, and D."

You make a face, crossing your arms, "I can't believe I have to do this."

He laughs, "It was either that or Come Ye Sinners, and I think that one's a little too on the nose, don't you think?" He tosses you a smile and you can't help but return it, feeling your frustration melt away under his gaze.

"Can we do that thing again where I get a reward?" you ask shyly, biting your lip. His eyebrows go up, a smirk lighting his face.

"Hmm, I think that's doable," he sits down beside you, tuning the guitar, "What'd you have in mind?" You notice the way his eyes dart toward your groin and your cheeks warm.

"I was actually thinking that maybe..." your hands play with the hem of his shirt nervously, unsure what he'll say, "maybe you could play something for me? You said last night that you've written some songs," you shrug, trying to be nonchalant, "I'd... I'd really like to hear one, if you wouldn't mind."

He peers at you for a few seconds, smirk fading briefly only to be replaced with a tender smile, eyes softening as he gazes at you. Warmth blooms in your chest. You never want him to stop looking at you like that.

"I can do that," he tells you quietly, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck, "I mean... I can't promise it'll be good, but-"

"I don't care."

He chuckles and nods, grips the guitar again and clears his throat, "Well, alright then. Let's get started."

For the first time ever, the lesson is actually a lesson. No undercurrent of sex, no inappropriate touching or sensual glances, no teasing or filthy words. You're not sure how you're able to hold yourself back so easily, able to really focus on what Joel is saying and showing you, helping place your fingers in the right locations and teach you the strumming techniques. Maybe it's because you're tired - you did come three times already today - but it's not just that.

It just feels so... normal. So easy. You think back to that first lesson, the nervousness you'd felt and the pounding of your heart in your chest, the anticipation and the fear.

It's different now. Now that he's been inside you, become one with you, it's like your whole dynamic has changed - for the better. Of course you still feel that curious nervousness, the innocence, the electricity between you. But there's something so solid and tangible about it now, something certain. Something real.

He shapes your fingers along the neck of the guitar, praising you softly every time you play a note that sounds right, encouraging you as you repeat the G chord a few times, then C, then D. You strum along slowly, taking your time, and before you know it you're playing something that actually doesn't sound half bad.

"We definitely need to work on buildin' up those calluses," he murmurs, stroking the tips of your fingers under his thumb, "Well... If you're gonna do this long-term, I mean."

You peer at him curiously, tilting your head to the side. He looks sheepish, like he's said something he hadn't meant to.

"You think I could do this, like... for real? As a hobby?"

His mouth turns up at the corners and he nods, "I think you can do anything you set your mind to, darlin'."

Your heart is suddenly in your throat at his words, emotion bubbling under the surface of your skin. You drop your hand from the guitar and reach up to cup his face, pulling him toward you to press a gentle kiss to his lips. He kisses you back just as soft, just as careful.

"Thank you," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "Thank you for saying that."

He presses his forehead to yours, shakes his head ever so slightly, "Don't gotta thank me for sayin' what's true, angel. You deserve to hear it every single day."

You finish the lesson with tears still welling in your eyes, a lump in your throat. When you lean the guitar against the side of the couch he cradles your face in his hands and gently kisses the tears away, brushes his lips along your eyelids and cheeks, your jaw and your lips, saying everything without saying anything at all.

"Okay," you sigh, taking a deep breath and opening your eyes to smile sweetly at him, "Time for my reward."

He chuckles and rolls his eyes a little, reaching for the guitar and beginning to tune it again. You watch as he twists the keys, strums a little here and there, hums softly for each note to match his voice. Anticipation rises in your chest.

"Now, uh," he clears his throat a bit, avoiding eye contact, "It's been a while since I played this one but it's, uh," he takes a breath, "It's one I wrote when Sarah was born. Used to sing it to her to help her fall asleep."

You melt at the words, smiling wider, "What's it called?"

He finally meets your eyesight, lips pressing together sheepishly, "Sarah."

Oh, duh. You nod in encouragement, leaning back against the armrest of the couch and waiting for him to begin. He takes another deep breath, dropping his gaze to watch his fingers shape the first chord. It's then that you notice his hands - usually deft and steady - are trembling a little bit, so much so that he has to readjust his position on the strings a few times.

He's nervous.

He stares at his hand, takes another deep breath.

You wait.

"Sorry," he mumbles under his breath, "Sorry, just gimme a minute."

"It's okay, take your time." Your voice is barely a whisper, awestruck by the sudden vulnerability you're witnessing. He'd agreed to the reward so quickly, you'd been sure he didn't mind. But now as you sit here waiting, you're not so sure. You watch him take more deep breaths, watch as he closes his eyes and seems to center himself.

"If you don't want to-"

"I want to," he says immediately, shaking his head, "I want to, I've just... I haven't sung in a while."

Your brow furrows, confused, "You sang yesterday in the car, didn't you? And you sang Tangled Up In Blue when we first met, and that other one, the one from the eighties."

His lips turn up at the corners, a welcome smile, "Take On Me."

"Yeah, that one."

He sighs, tightening his grip on the guitar, "It's not that I haven't sung I guess. Wrong wordin'," he bites his lip, "It's moreso that I haven't sung this one. Or any of my originals. Not for a long time."

You frown, "How come?"

"I guess... I just..." he searches for the words, staring at the floor, "No one's really asked me to. And it's not like I'm playin' gigs or tourin' or any of that pipe dream stuff I thought about when I was a kid." He laughs humorlessly, like the concept is ridiculous, "So I guess I just kinda... stopped, after a while."

You feel a sudden sadness that you can't really explain, picturing that bright-eyed little version of Joel, stuck in a household that wouldn't let him grow, wouldn't let him be himself. All those dreams and big ideas, dashed before he was able to get out and make his mark. Life getting busy, too busy, other responsibilities taking up all his time until the thing he loved most became nothing but a memory. A pipe dream.

It makes your heart ache.

"D'you mind if I just..." he meets your gaze again finally, eyes soft and a little sad, "Could I maybe just hum it? Instead? I know that's kind of a cop-out, but-"

"Of course you can," you breathe out, hand coming down to rest atop his knee, "Of course you can hum it."

"I'm sorry, baby, I know you wanted -"

"It's hard being vulnerable, Joel," you interrupt him again, shaking your head and stroking your thumb against his skin, "God knows it's been hard for me, and you've been nothing but patient." You give him a watery smile and he returns it, "Please take your time. I can be patient too, I promise."

You can tell how much he appreciates it. He reaches down and picks up your hand, presses a gentle kiss to the back of it before setting it back down and taking one last deep breath.

"Well, here it is," he says with a little more confidence, a smile playing at his lips.

You've heard him play before, obviously; you've already seen the way his fingers work the strings like it's just second nature, the way his thumb strums out the chords effortlessly. But this time is different. Knowing what he's playing is completely original, born from his own creativity out of love and devotion, a father's affection and protectiveness, it just sounds special. New. He begins to pluck out a soft, slow, soothing melody that immediately puts you at ease, makes you lean back further against the couch and loosen your body. It's tender, quiet - a lullaby.

He hums softly, voice crackling a bit in his throat at first but then settling into a smooth and comforting sound. It's almost like a waltz, the way the chords change back and forth, in and out, slow and steady. Of course you wonder what the real words are, what his quiet hums are substituting, but you find that it doesn't really matter. What matters is the look on his face, eyes distant, as if he's picturing his daughter as she was when she was little. You try to picture it too, thinking of the photograph in his house, the one of him pushing Sarah on the swing. Just a father and his little girl, against the world.

It isn't a very long song. It fades out relatively quickly, and as soon as he strums out the final chord you sit up on the couch and clap ferociously, tears stinging in your eyes all over again.

"I'd usually, uh, play it a couple times for her," he says awkwardly, "'Til she fell asleep."

"It was beautiful," you tell him earnestly, "It was so beautiful, Joel."

He shakes his head with an embarrassed laugh and swivels around to go place his guitar back in its case. He doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't need to. You know how he feels when you spot the tips of ears, tinged pink, warm from your praise.

The rest of the day passes in what feels like a warm, luxurious, passionate blur. You go to dinner that evening and order lobster, revel in the way it practically melts in your mouth with sips of champagne and bites of blueberry cheesecake. Joel tells you a little more about his life, tells you everything you want to know about his daughter and his ex. It's not a difficult or uncomfortable conversation like you'd been worried it might be. Instead, you feel closer learning these things about him, feel even more connected to him than you did before as he tells you about Mish and Sarah, their relationship, the arrangement.

"I think I understand it better now," you tell him thoughtfully, "Now that I've actually..." you peer at him shyly, "You know... done it."

He chuckles, "Sex is a powerful thing, it really is. And when you find someone you're compatible with it can be really easy to keep goin' back to 'em. Settle into it, you know? Even if the other parts of your relationship don't work."

"It's like...friends with benefits, right?"

"Exactly. And it really does work for some people, worked for Mish and I for a long time," he shakes his head and reaches across the table to take your hand, "But that's over now, I need you to know that. It's over. You're the only woman in my life and that's how I want it to be. You believe me right?"

His eyes are soft, warm, loving, sincerity practically glowing in his expression.

"I believe you, Joel. Of course I believe you."

You have sex again when you get back to the room, slow and intimate and tender and perfect. You claw at his back as whimpers and cries tear from your mouth, writhing in pleasure beneath him on the bed as he fills you over and over, murmurs filth in your ear and presses down on your clit with his thumb. It's like you've died and gone to heaven, this feeling of permanent bliss and satisfaction, the sensation of being so full and so connected. It's the closest you've ever felt to real inner peace; who would have thought that sitting on a cock instead of in a church pew would be the thing to bring you closer to godliness?

I pray at the church of Joel Miller, you think to yourself as you recover from your fifth orgasm of the day, laying there with fluttering lashes and heaving belly, mind foggy and eyes bleary. Joel is kissing your thighs somewhere below, whispering praises, humming against your skin as he wipes a warm cloth over your twitching pussy.

"I keep thinking about how many sins I've committed in the last twenty four hours," you mumble to him, sleep quickly making its way into your psyche, "And then I remember that I don't care."

His laugh is the last thing you hear before you drift off.

Sunday morning is bittersweet. You spend most of it wrapped in Joel's embrace, tracing the freckles and scars on his skin, drifting in and out of consciousness while he peppers kisses all over your face and neck. You have to leave the hotel by noon, get back on the road again and head back home, but the bed is so warm. He's so warm. Everything is warm.

"You never fucked me in the shower," you whisper to him softly, so quiet you wonder if he can even hear you, "Or on the floor."

"I still can," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep, fingers trailing delicately through your hair, "We have a little time."

You nuzzle into his warmth and close your eyes, sighing contentedly, "No," you breathe, "I just want you to hold me."

So he does.

The drive home is quieter, but not in a bad way. You're still tired from your escapades and find yourself dozing every so often, vaguely aware of Joel turning down the volume or switching the song to something more chill when he notices you starting to drift. His hand is ever-present on your thigh, stroking the skin over and over like it's just habit at this point. You know you should be forcing yourself to stay awake, to enjoy these last few hours before life goes back to normal, but he really did a number on you.

It's only when you stop at a gas station - the same one where you first saw the playlist you weren't sure you were meant to - that you finally start to feel more awake.

"So tell me about this Angel playlist," you say with a smirk, waving his phone at him as he gets back in the truck, "Can we listen to it?"

A look of surprise crosses his face, but he doesn't seem upset, "How did you even find out about that?"

"I'm in control of the music, remember? It's your spotify."

He groans, cheeks flushing as he pushes on the gas and pulls out of the station, avoiding eye contact. "You were not supposed to see that."

Intrigue floods your brain, fuels your grin, "So it's for me?"

He takes a moment to respond, thumb stroking the wheel as he eyes the road, lip between his teeth. You can tell he's debating whether or not he should answer you, but his silence says everything. Impatient, you practically bounce in your seat, "Can we listen to it? Pretty please?"

He laughs a little breathlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, "Who is this girl sittin' in the front seat of my truck?" He squeezes your thigh, "You're gettin' bold, darlin'. I like it."

"Enough to let me listen to the playlist?"

He sighs, but you know he's not mad, can see the smile tugging at his lips, "...Maybe. At least enough to listen to one song. Will that tide you over?"

"Yes, it most certainly will," you're already tapping Angel, eyes alight with curiosity, "Which song?"

"Northern Sky by Nick Drake, should be the first one there."

You turn to him with a raised brow, "How do you know that's the first song?"

"'Cause I made the damn playlist."

"And you listen to it a lot?"

He laughs again, eyes rolling fondly as he turns his attention back to the road and grins at your words, "You're somethin' else."

You've still got a shit eating grin on your face as the song starts, the soft strumming of guitar filling the small space. Oh, this is pretty. You playfully nod your head to the chords and he rolls his eyes again, strokes your thigh and keeps his attention focused on the road.

And then the lyrics start.

I never felt magic crazy as this I never saw moons, knew the meaning of the sea I never held emotion in the palm of my hand Or felt sweet breezes in the top of a tree But now you're here Brighten my northern sky

Your grin fades almost immediately, realization blooming on your face as the reality of what this playlist actually is begins to dawn on you. You'd thought maybe it was songs he wanted to share with you, songs he wanted to teach you how to play. Just random tunes that he compiled together with you in mind.

No, that's not what this is at all. As the lyrics continue, the melody growing more steady, more beautiful, you realize that these are songs that remind him of you. An entire playlist dedicated to the way he feels.

You stare at the road as the song plays out, not speaking. Your eyes are stinging with tears but you can't bring yourself to say anything, to even look at him. You feel him squeeze your thigh again, a comforting and reassuring little gesture. As if to say, l know, I'm here. As the final chords fade out you frantically reach for his phone and press pause, out of respect for his privacy but also because you're completely unprepared to hear another song like that. You catch him peering at you in your periphery, and you will yourself to look at him with watery eyes.

"Satisfied?" he asks softly, giving you that gorgeous crooked smile.

All you can choke out is a "Yeah."

Arriving back at the parking garage hurts. Joel pulls his truck in beside your car, still in the same spot you'd left it, and takes the key out of the ignition with a long sigh. You look over at him, emotion burning in your throat.

"I don't wanna go home," you whisper.

"Oh, babygirl," he murmurs, brow furrowing, "C'mere." He holds his arms open and you clamor over the center console to settle into his lap, burying your face in his neck. He holds you tight and rubs your back, hushes you softly when you start to cry. How is this weekend already over? How are things just supposed to go back to normal now?

"I don't want you to go back there either," he breathes, "If I had it my way you'd be comin' home with me." You feel him press a kiss to the spot just beneath your ear, "But you're strong. You're stronger than you think you are and I know you can get through this. Whatever they have to say, whatever they do, you'll get through it. We'll get through it together."

You don't say anything else, just melt into the warmth of his body and let him hold you, comfort you, until your cries and hiccups fade into even breaths. You pull back slowly and peer at his beautiful face, long to say the words you've been holding back all weekend - but you know there's a reason you've been holding back, know this isn't the right time, not yet.

Instead, you kiss him. It's soft and sweet, a tender goodbye. Temporary, fleeting. You know it's not forever, know you'll probably sneak over tomorrow night to see him again under cover of darkness, find yourself in his bed, get wrapped up in him. But it's a goodbye nonetheless. A goodbye to this - the simplicity, the sense of normalcy and lack of time constraints, the domestic bliss and the thrill of the escape. A goodbye to the bliss.

Driving away from him a few minutes later, watching his truck fade into the distance in your rearview mirror - you think it might be one of the hardest things you've ever had to do.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #fic: feelings on fire #*

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jellinuy · 9 months ago

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ꪆ୧

there were few things gojo loved about life. a handful of simple joys that made his — frankly, tiring — existence as the world’s strongest sorcerer just a pinch better.

one of them was your face. a vague first, and he knows that, but that doesn’t change his answer.

“satoru, look. look how many there are!”

look at you, fascinated with something as simple as jellyfish, your eyes illuminated by the blue luminescence of the bubbling tank, your palms pressed to the glass as if you’d never even heard of a sea creature before. he’d never given a second thought to things like that, but he’d buy you the entire aquarium to keep that smile on your face.

“mhmm,” he murmurs, "real pretty.” not once had he taken his eyes off you. even with six of them, he could never get tired of the way your cheeks stretch and your lips show off your teeth.

the second thing was the way you looked at him.

or maybe, he'd told himself countless times, times late at night when his thoughts raced with you, times when he felt his heart ache and pull against his ribs, begging his lips to spill words that his brain told him to keep in, maybe you look at the whole world like that. he wouldn’t be surprised if you did. the way your eyes gleamed when you stared at something you loved — satoru gojo never thought he could be jealous of an inanimate object until he met you.

the third thing was the fact that you didn’t know how he felt. it was a bittersweet, slightly addicting feeling, like candy with a sour coating and a sugary aftertaste. he’d thought out how to tell you: that was why you were at the aquarium right now, though he’d disguised the very obvious date as another hangout when he’d first texted you.

“i didn’t know there were so many different kinds,” you continued to ramble, your hands still pressed to the tank. then you turned to him with that look. that look of wonder. like a child — and gojo hated children, but when you looked at him like that…

“do you think we’re jellyfish in some other life?” such a stupid, random question, and yet his heart pounds, and he prays you can’t hear it. white lashes flutter under his sunglasses, all six eyes focused on the shape of your lips as they push out sweet words. the strongest sorcerer, prodigy of the gojo clan, reduced to something of an elementary school kid with a life-sized crush.

“…yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly when his voice nearly cracks. “yeah, probably.”

the rest of that day was spent in a comfortable bubble, just you and gojo, wandering around staring at fish. it was simple, and he’d not have it any other way. for a few hours, he could forget about it all, take in your face and feel his tiredness die out like a bad dream.

satoru gojo swore the gods must have hated him.

he couldn’t even lift the tarp. it was white, practically red now that unimaginable amounts of blood had soaked it through. your eyes were closed now, courtesy of him — because you deserved to rest in peace, and because he couldn’t bear to see the fear preserved in them as you lay there on the table. as a reminder that he wasn't there to save you.

'killed in action'. three fucking words, and his world was turned on its head.

if had he known the aquarium was the last place you two would've been happy together, gojo would've given anything to make that day last just a few minutes longer, so he could spill his guts, pour his heart out, told you that you could be jellyfish in your next lives like he should have.

but in the end, you died without ever knowing he loved you.

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #gojo angst #if this gets 1k likes i'll make an alt ending /srs #user jelluf1sh actually posting real writing ?!!1!??#drabble #jjk drabbles #ᴊᴇʟʟʏ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇʙᴏᴏᴋ .ᐟೀ

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be-good-to-bugs · 2 years ago

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#the bin #my kitties are here!!! i missed them SO MUCH #theres 4 of them here but trubbish will be going to a shelter p much immediately. she would already have gone but there were none accepting #cats back there so she will go to one here #scooter might be going too but we are looking to see if anyone we know will take him. i love him so dearly with all my heart and i wanna #keep him but we just cant keep that many and omen and asbestos are more important to me #the other 2 (including coffee) are gonna go to my mom and siblings. we at least only have to let go of 2. scooter is gonna hurt to say bye #hes so sweet and precious and i love him. he likes to be held like a baby and to claw your chest and stick his nose in your mouth whenever #you speak. his nickname is scgoober bc he is such a little dork baby. such a bastard. i love him so much. i remember when i found him #but i just cant ket go of my other ones either. im so bappy to see asbestos again. i missed him so much #im happy to see omen too #i should post some pictures of them. omen us bigger than she was when i left. her belly is also still shaped funny. i think its permanent #she got a real bad infection after getting fixed and her belly got all drooped down and she is healthy now but her belly is still shaped #kinda weird. her and asbestos bith have weird misshapen body parts. his tail is so silly. whenever he tries to move it the way other cats #do it looks like he is waggging it bc it doesnt move quite right. i should take a video bc its adorable. he is trying so hard to do that #thing where they do a slither motion with their tails but his tail is broken and short and it just doesnt work. its adorable #sorry i know theres a lot of words here. i tried keeping it concise but this IS me being consice #i could talk abt my kitties for hours. especially bc ive missed them and now they are here! i wanna see bibben and coffee too but alas i #cannot anytime soon. im sad that im naver gonna see my dog again. i wish i couldve said bye more. he is such a good dog #ive never been fond of literally any dogs except him. i was his fav person but he loved everyone a lot. he is so sweet and good. i miss him #its not as hard to let go of him as it is to let go of scooter though. i cared for baby kitten him and he was so tiny and so sweet #now he is a bastard man and would never let anybody do what he used to but he is still so affectionate. if you sit on the couch he likes to #come and headbut you right in the face. this is the cat who broke my nose #hhh. i really dont know if ill be able to say bye to him. the fact he broke my nose kinda makes me love him more cause its funny it happene

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wordsinhaled · 4 months ago

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Charles has settled on Edwin's lap in the wingback chair in a comfortable sprawl, his knees on either side of Edwin's. He'd gone about it with a practiced ease, as though this is something he's done a million times; as though he belongs here; as though he could search out this spot in his sleep, if ghosts could sleep.

Yet Charles being so near to him, and with such deliberate and specific intent—that being their mutual enjoyment—is a relatively recent development, in the grand scheme. Edwin is... ablaze with the newness of it. He has to tip his head back just to get the full measure of Charles perched astride him, of the low lamplight diffused across Charles' face, of the fond, familiar mischief that glimmers in his eyes.

Port Townsend may have opened Edwin to his innermost desires, but if he is very, very honest he can admit that his private longing for Charles is of much older provenance. He would have given Charles an eternity to sort out the shape of his own feelings, if he needed it. And if it had meant Charles' continued happiness, he would have been content to live out their days alone in his regard, content with a cherished friendship that never included this.

By some miracle, he does not have to.

It had not taken Charles anywhere close to an eternity to figure out the rest, so to speak. What is a single year, after all, to a pair of ghosts? Falling in love, Charles had told him, felt like waking up in a strange bedroom which became, as you shook off sleep, suddenly as familiar as your own. "Oh... bit of a weird metaphor, that," he'd said, wrinkling his nose in the way Edwin privately found exceedingly endearing. Then: "Sorry, mate. I'd been building up to this, you know? What I was gonna say to you. Had it all planned in my head and now. Well. Can't get it out right, can I?"

But semantics didn't much matter, in the end.

In the end, being in love with one another had come to them as easily as it had to fall into step walking through the gates of St. Hilarion's, away from their shadowed past and towards their intertwined future.

It is dizzying to acknowledge that this is real—not a game, or a trick, or a trap. Just Charles Rowland, whom he adores, looking equally smitten as he steadies himself with his hands on Edwin's upper arms, the better to give an experimental shimmy of his hips against Edwin's. Like an anchorless ship Edwin drifts on the sweeping tide of pleasure their proximity brings. He relishes how Charles’ gaze rolls over him, terribly tender in its focus and promisingly molten.

"Charles," he says in unspooled wonder, simply because he can. Simply because happiness, in this moment, takes the shape of his best friend's name in his mouth. To his own ears he sounds strangled. Transported. Not himself whatsoever. It ought to scare him, the difference Charles can work through him so easily with the barest effort; it both does and doesn't. "I am certain you'll be the death of me."

"You're already dead, mate," says Charles, "live a little," and he actually giggles, like he's just said the funniest thing in all the world; like it pleases him immeasurably to know he can have this mad effect on Edwin. The giddy edge of his laughter vibrates through his chest, and into Edwin's. And Charles sounds breathless, even though ghosts do not need to breathe.

Edwin loves him so much, just then, that it genuinely aches. Not the agony of hell or the shocking burn of iron, but something new altogether, an incandescence that lances sharp beneath his breastbone. Something else to add to his running mental catalogue of sensations he shouldn't be able to feel, along with the beginnings of a flush spreading over his skin and the welcome heat of Charles' body through their clothes.

It is, all told, rather overwhelming.

Charles must read something of the enormity of his predicament writ plain on his face, for in the next second he reaches out to stroke careful, calloused thumbs over Edwin's burning cheeks. It's only a feather-light touch, back and forth and back again, one that might irk him were it to come from anyone else—but Charles has always been permitted certain liberties, so instead Edwin finds it... grounding. Or exhilarating. He isn't sure which. Possibly both.

"Hey," Charles says. "It's all right. It's fine. Still going slow, remember? This is brills, just this. We can st—"

"I do not wish us to stop," Edwin protests, before Charles can even finish the unthinkable suggestion. He could remain suspended in this precise millisecond for the next thirty years without complaint. "It is only that I... I can feel you. And everything. Everything we are doing. And it—you—you are so very...”

"Good?" Charles supplies, grinning Edwin’s favorite of his grins—the wide, unfettered one that shows his gums and lets a bit of his tongue peek between his teeth. He looks hopeful, impossibly bright in his joy, and just a little wicked.

“Yes,” Edwin says. "Better than good." He smiles up at Charles, some distant part of him registering that he must look utterly besotted.

Charles laughs, delighted.

And he tips forward to drop his forehead onto Edwin’s shoulder; to put his lips to Edwin’s neck, just below his ear. He presses a kiss there, so quick Edwin might think he’d imagined it, except that Charles does it a second time. And a third, this one open-mouthed and lingering, sending little shivers skittering down Edwin's spine and drawing a soft noise from his throat.

“I like this,” Charles whispers into Edwin's skin. His voice is raw-edged, confessional in a way Edwin hasn't quite heard him sound these three-odd decades. “So much. Being like this, with you. Didn't know how much I would, did I? 'Course you'd see it before me. Brilliant, you are, Edwin Payne."

#dbda #dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #payneland #this has sat in my drafts languishing for... absolute weeks so here it is #zero substance just pure unadulterated sap here honestly. just lovesick sillies canoodling

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lordprettyflackotara · 4 months ago

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Hitchhiker SFW & NSFW Headcannon’s:

a/n: getting my wisdom teeth out in like ten minutes so imma be offline and recovering for a few days. enjoy these head cannons until i get back <3

Tim | SFW:

-lives off of coffee & cigarettes. half the time can’t digest regular food & ends up throwing it up from stress :( poor bby

-despite being a proxy for years, still has reoccurring nightmares that keep him up at night. certain things trigger ptsd episodes, specifically memories of jay or brian (who brian used to be before the operator came along)

-rough exterior, doesn’t believe he’s even worthy of being in your presence or anyone else’s. firmly believes that anyone he interacts with The Operator could and would kill just to fuck with him

-major anger issues that he mainly keeps under wraps, masky’s the one who REALLY shows that side of him

-memory is spotty, but he puts more of an effort to remember things since meeting you

-drinks straight black coffee, absolutely despises cream & sugar. its a miracle this man has any water intake at all

-overly protective, to an intense degree

-enjoys bands like the smiths, the neighbourhood (idc bite me), and cigarettes after sex

Tim | NSFW under the cut:

-tim wants to absolutely worship you. a shameless munch who wants to do nothing more than make you cum on his face

-prefers missionary, wants to bury his face into your neck as he pounds into you

-This man loves nothing more than to hear your pretty noises

‘Fuck, keep moaning my name princess’

-doesn’t care too much about receiving head, would rather please you

-ADORES watching your facial expressions as you cum on his fingers. the little o shape your mouth makes drives him feral

‘Yeah? Gonna cum on my fingers?’

-best after care on the PLANET. baths, snacks, cuddles. whatever you want he’s got it ready for you.

Brian || SFW:

-vegetarian (loves tomato soup because it reminds him of what his mom used to make him when he was sick)

-distrusting; even though he tries to attempt from speaking his mind is absolute madness

-lots of ptsd, genuinely fears what happened to him will happen to you

-depressive tendencies. allows hoodie to front when he starts getting too upset

-he doesn’t allow himself to have too many interest or too much of a personality. he lives in constant fear anything he may grow to like or show interest in will be destroyed by the operator

-you instill an unknowingly amount of happiness into his life. an amount so much that he fears he may be beginning to claw his way out of the trenches of despair

-enjoys bands like linkin park, papa roach, and green day

Brian || NSFW

-a TEASE

-this mf wants you to beg for his touch just to turn around & give you what you want & more

-adores the feeling of your nails digging into his back. he gets so turned on by it, it’s borderline nauseating for him

-praise to the absolute MAX

-‘you can take it pretty girl, such a good girl for me’

-possessive & determined to make you feel better then anyone else, especially in group activities

-‘go on, tell tim how good i make you feel’

-loves to overstimulate you to the point of no return. if you aren’t a squirming mess on the brink of passing out from pleasure, he feels like he didn’t do his job right

-wants to manhandle you. something about picking you up as if you weighed nothing to readjust you into the position he wants you in is so addicting to him

-good aftercare, thinks more about cleaning you up than anything else

Masky || SFW

-he’s so tired of being the ‘leader’

-like seriously, he’s sick of it

-firm believer since Hoodie came around first he should be forced to lead the band of misfit toys but he digresses

-thinks tim is a big softie and borderline pathetic, but after he saves you, he thinks more highly of his decision making skills

-when fronting he is absolutely not sleeping. real life is terrifying enough. the last thing he needs is the creativity of nightmares haunting him too

-carries wads of cash in case he’s in a bind. will just throw them at people before storming out of where ever he is

-did i mention anger issues? like to an unhealthy concerning degree? masky believes in punching or shooting his way out of any situation that pisses him off

-delusional but in the best way, imagines you and him to eventually become a bonnie and clyde like duo

-enjoys more edgy bands like three days grace, skillet, and hollywood undead

Masky || NSFW

-there is not a submissive bone in this man’s body

-spitting, spanking, slapping, and choking you really gets him going

-humiliating you and degrading you turns him on so much it’s unbelievable

-‘Fuckin slut. Get yourself off on my tongue. Get on with it before I change my mind’

-Either overstimulation or orgasm denial. No in between

-Gun play. I said what I said. You giving him head while he points a loaded gun at your head drives him feral

-‘Suck it harder or i’ll pull the trigger. Dont think I won’t. You’re not special’

-if you’re into it as much as he is, he’d like to fuck you with his gun🫣

-Lowkey is kinda cruel, enjoy the idea of putting his cigarettes out on you but won’t since he shares you (he doesn’t want to argue with toby/hoodie/brian/tim)

-leaving you covered with bruises in particular is satisfying to him. the shapes of his fingers digging into your waist being there the next day make him hard all over again

-decent aftercare. if we’re being honest you’ll be too dazed to remember most of it. he won’t necessarily cuddle you but he’ll at least clean you with a washcloth before putting you to bed

Hoodie || SFW

-silent but aggressive

-doesn’t enjoy fronting unless it’s to complete a mission or task for the operator

-enjoys stalking his victims just to see what they’re doing before they’re killed🙈

-that ski mask? yeah prefers that mf to stay ON. things that involve you are the only exception he’ll make once he grows fond of you

-him & brian are in an agreement having any real interest is too much risk. of course, they combat this narrative once you come along

-will tell you he doesn’t like music but secretly enjoys shinedown, breaking benjamin, and seether

Hoodie || NSFW

-sadist

-orgasm denial. the sight of you squirming beneath him while begging to cum? euphoric.

-cnc (sorry mom)

-‘shut up and take it. pathetic whore’

-breath play. likes choking but he’d prefer to have you on all fours with a belt around your throat if he’s being honest

-loves recording you. not only to watch back later, but to threaten you with the blackmail

-‘you better behave or i’ll show everyone how much of a slut you actually are’

-hair pulling. whether you pull his hair or he pulls yours. the whimpers that come from it are like heroin

-bondage. if hoodie could have it his way he’d have you tied up and spread out like a starfish on a bed so he could play with you until you break

-probably the worst aftercare out of everyone on this list. doesn’t care for it, thinks it’s your problem. at most will just tell you to pee

Toby || SFW

-toby is pretty much your loyal guard dog. he’s at your disposal and you don’t even realize it

-he never really got an opportunity to be a teenager. now that he’s roughly 21-23, you make him feel like the flustered horny teenager he never got to be

-before you he’s extremely unhinged. toby didn’t have a lot of motivation besides the thrill of a kill. now that you’re around and practically a ball of sunshine, you make him feel something other than blood lust or boredom

-has nice curls but never knows how to take care of them so they always turn out straight since he immediately brushes his hair after a shower

-out of the three proxies he’s the most content with the situation. he views tim and brian as his best friends, even if they don’t feel the same way

-don’t let any of the fluff headcannons deceive you though, there’s a reason he’s a proxy. the unknown strength this man has is concerning. chopping up bodies doesn’t tire him

-enjoys russian roulette. masky and hoodie will play with him on special occasions

-likes to play with fire. if he has an opportunity he will commit massive amounts of arson

-his music taste bounces around everywhere, similar to his personality. top three is violent vira, grimes, and bones

Toby || NSFW

-hardcore switch leaning towards sub

-toby has his dominate moments, most of them just enjoying seeing you blush from his teasing

-‘you like m-me fucking y-you huh? such a p-perfect pussy’

-likes to see you take control.

-i’m sorry but despite being a sub he’s very vanilla, minus a few very specific kinks

-hickies. wants tim and brian to see you’re just as much as his as you are theirs

-cream pies. not even necessarily contributing to a breeding kink, he just likes to watch his cum drip down your abused cunt

-pulling his hair drives him feral. he can’t necessarily feel pain but he feels your eagerness and that’s enough for him

-considering toby can’t feel things his sex drive is extremely high considering it’s one of the few things he can’t actually feel

-one of his fantasies is fucking you with the handle of his axe

-aftercare is peak. he’s just as exhausted as you, but will wait on you hand and foot to ensure you’re taken care of

Nova || SFW

-her dad was a detective, she simply followed in his footsteps

-her parents were very academic driven. praise and affection was only shown to her when she excelled academically

-bi sexual. leans more towards women

-protective, blunt, and head strong

-working in a field that’s pro dominantly men, she ensures to be full of bark AND bite to make sure she’s taken seriously

-became a detective to help people. despite her tough exterior, she genuinely just wants to bring people peace through her work

-obsessive tendencies. once she starts a case she has to finish it. will not rest properly until it’s done

-has a fantastic memory. memorizes all the little details of anyone and everything

-out of the three proxies she likes tim the most, but will never admit she likes any of them

-enjoys hozier, asap rocky, and adeline troutman

Nova || NSFW

-THE BIGGEST SWITCH TO EVER EXIST

-either wants to be called mommy or a good cum dump

-an absolute freak in the bed

-this woman has a chest of sex toys at home of all varieties and sorts

-pegs men

-‘your whimpers are so cute baby boy’

-either wants to put YOU in handcuffs or have you put handcuffs on HER. either way she wants them involved

-doesn’t believe in vanilla sex. if she’s fucking she’s going all in. no lovey dovey shit. just pure feral behavior

-on the other end of the spectrum, loves being fucked into the mattress until she’s dizzy

-‘please keep going, fuck, i’m so close’

-has attended several bdsm sex parties on the down low

-aftercare is peak. she doesn’t gaf ab herself. you’re the star of the show

638 notes · View notes

suguwife · 4 months ago

Text

Executive Tensions. (one)

tags: exbf!Gojo Satoru x f!reader, CEO x secretary, porn with plot, 18+ explicit sexual content, mdni, masturbating, slow burn, mentions of cheating, forced proximity, mini series

- 9.7k wc

a/n: this is the backstory to reader x gojo - angry heated one shot for this is in part two !!

(part two)

You had just posted a story on your Instagram, a picture of flowers that your new boyfriend gave you. Baby pink peonies, a big bouquet of them in the shape of a heart.

Only a few minutes after posting the photo, your phone vibrated, and your heart skipped a beat seeing your ex boyfriend’s name appear on your screen, Satoru. The message was simple and yet it made your heart beat faster. You shouldn’t be feeling like this, you hate him.

“He doesn't know that you prefer actual luxury gifts?” Was the first message he sent you in months, four months since the breakup. Why is he viewing your story?

You respond after a couple minutes with “I like flowers now.” Its an obvious lie. You knew he’d know. You had always been materialistic, you found gifts and money more efficient over flowers that would die anyway.

“You're lying.” He replied within seconds, obsessed much.

He had to admit, after stalking your socials for a little while, your new boyfriend seemed to make you happy, or at least that's the image you projected.

It was annoying, it made him feel sick to think that someone else could make you smile like that, or even more.

You reply after a couple minutes again, “Well I like flowers now. Stop texting me I already removed you as a follower.”

His jaw clenched and his grip on his phone tightened, seeing your reply, he wasn't expecting you to be so cold with him. But of course you would be, in a way he deserved that. “You didn't remove me, stop lying.”

“I just did.”

“Why? did your new boyfriend tell you to do that?”

He double texts another message, “Is he that insecure? Does he not want you interacting with your ex ‘cause he’s scared?”

You scoff a laugh in disbelief at his accusations, ironic coming from him. He seems to be the insecure one here. “No, I decided to remove you. Stop being so irritating.”

He doesn’t respond to that, he just re-reads over the conversation on his phone a couple times like an obsessive freak before throwing his phone on the bed and running his hand through his hair, “Fuck..”

Laying on his bed, he stared up at the ceiling and clenching his jaw as the image of you with your new boyfriend danced in his head.

The next day, Satoru sat in a black seat behind a long desk, a few of his assistants on either side. In front of him, the candidates for the new position that had just been opened in his company were standing before him, one after the other. The interviews had already been going on for quite some time, he was just beginning to get bored, until you walked in.

Honestly, you had no idea that Satoru would be here, until you saw him sitting on the main seat. The seat for the CEO of the building. You knew he was a CEO, but he had worked in a different building whilst you were dating. Despite the sudden shock running through, you remain calm and composed.

Your parents were bugging you to do something with your life and that you can’t live in their luxury for the rest of your days without working towards anything so, here you are. Applying for a boring office job, just so your parents would see you as a hard working woman. A useless thing, you believe. You’re fine as you are, perfectly financially stable.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw you, you were even more beautiful than the last time. He had only seen you off your socials since the breakup, but in real life your beauty glistened the entire room from boring and dull to bright and refreshing. He blinked a few times to recover from his surprise, before straightening up in his seat and looking at the papers in front of him.

Trying to ignore the hammering in his heart as he focused on the papers, he couldn't deny it now. He hadn't forgotten you, not at all. He never could. No amount of hookups would get his mind off you. In fact, during all those times he’d have sex with other women after the breakup, he’d only see your face despite how bratty and argumentative you became with him.

Little did he know that the only reason you became so hostile towards him was because he had cheated on you with a prostitute. He doesn't know you know. You didn’t bother to explain, wanted him to realise himself. But he clearly didn’t.

He was just about to say something when one of his assistants spoke up. "Excuse me sir, this is the last candidate to be interviewed, y/n l/n.”

Nodding in acknowledgment, he eyed you up and down. He tried to control his emotions and remain stoic, but in reality, it took all his self-control to stay that way.

He gestured for you to sit in the chair in front of him, his expression bored.

You keep your poker face plastered on as you take your seat, questioning yourself. When did he start working here? This building is #1 in Tokyo, he had been working a little lower before. Unless he owned this building too and just never told you?

God, this is so embarrassing, interviewing to be a low class assistant for your ex boyfriend just to please your parents.

You furrow your brows ever so slightly but regain your composure again, you needed this job. You needed to show your parents that you can do anything, you just choose not to. And it’s true, you can do anything, because now everyone beside him is smiling and whispering with amused expressions as they tick all the boxes near your name. Only Satoru had been staring into your eyes, like a staring contest between the two of you.

He cleared his throat before finally speaking up, his tone neutral. “Alright then, you may leave for now.”

After politely saying your goodbyes you make your exit, his pupils stalked you until you left the room and the door closed behind you. Letting out a slow sigh once you were gone, he felt his heart rate calm down to a normal pace once more.

“I think she did pretty well, sir.”

“One of the best from today, sir.”

He nods at his assistants, trying to play it off like he was unfazed by your presence. But deep down, seeing you again after so long in real time was like an electric shock to his heart. A reminder that he never got over you at all. Ugh, what was he thinking? You became a bitch, you broke up, the decision was mutual.

The assistant's voice pierced his thoughts. “So, what do you think sir? Should we hire her?”

He hesitates for a moment, his mind torn between his emotions and his rationality. He wanted to say no, to reject your application, but he couldn't seem to do that either, he knew you were qualified.

After some deliberation, he finally spoke up in a firm tone. “...Hire her for my secretary position. She has the necessary qualifications.”

As he spoke, a few of the people around him looked at him and each other with surprise visible on their face, but they immediately tried to mask it. They all knew that his position as CEO required a secretary, but they had been under the impression that he would never agree to hire someone for that position. Every time a candidate came in for the role, he’d always deny them. Clearly, you always got what you wanted and Satoru was willing to give you that, despite the fact you only interviewed for a low assistant role.

He could sense their surprise and knew that they had expected him to reject the idea of a secretary once again, but he didn't care. This time, he had a very selfish reason. He wanted you to be his secretary, so he could see you every day. Even if it was just for work.

He continued to look at the papers in front of him, pretending not to care about their reactions, his heart still pounding from the idea of you being his secretary.

Would you even accept the job? And if you did, what would happen between you two?

He didn't know and he wasn't sure he wanted to find out either.

“I expect one of you to alert her for her position and the expectations for it too.” He says coldly, standing up from his seat and fixing himself to head back to his main office. “Have her start her shift from tomorrow morning.”

He nodded to his assistants, indicating that he was done for today and didn't want to be disturbed, before leaving the room and walking down the long corridors to his main office. The thought of you working for him now excited him as much as it worried him. He would see you every day, but would he be able to control himself and remain professional...?

He arrived at his main office and closed the door behind him, heading to his desk and sitting down on the big leather chair. He placed his elbows on the desk and let his face rest in his hands, sighing deeply as he stared at the desk in front of him. This wasn't going to be easy at all.

Well, you knew you always got what you wanted, but you didn’t expect to be given the secretary role. You never even applied for that? Were the people around him just overly pleased by you so they convinced him or was he doing it out of the fact you're his ex?

Whatever the reason, you took it. You didn’t want to bother with anymore of those fuckass interviews. But you can’t believe he’s making you start the next morning, what a dick, as always.

Your black heels click as you enter his office dressed in dark tights, a dark grey pencil skirt and a sleeved white button up shirt, hair up in a French twist, just normal business attire. Oh but to him, oh fuck. As he sat on his seat, his dick sprung up to the sight of you, all dressed up like a hard working woman.

He mentally cursed himself, placing his hand casually as possible on his boner trying to hide the evidence even though you weren’t able to see anyway from his desk blocking your view.

He swallowed hard and quickly tried to compose himself, not wanting to let his surprise show.

Clearing his throat, he spoke up in a professional tone, “You're early, good. Have a seat in front of my desk.”

You want to mentally roll your eyes at him, of course you were going to take a seat. Did he just expect you to stand there until he told you what to do?

You keep your expression neutral as you take your seat and stare at him.

He couldn't help but study your features, the way your eyes landed on his, your hands folded on your knees as you crossed them over. Everything about you was exactly like he remembered.

He took a deep breath to recompose himself before speaking “You may be wondering why I hired you as my personal secretary.”

He leaned back, resting his arms on the armrests of his chair as he continued speaking. “I was going to pass on hiring one, but stocks have been rising lately so it’s been getting busy. And after the interview, I felt you were more than qualified for the job.”

His tone was professional, as if he were speaking to any other employee, but his dick was pulsing with its own heartbeat, faster than ever. It was painful, but he managed to remain stoic. He couldn't tear his eyes away from your face despite how hard it was making him. Would it be so bad if he wanked off to your pictures once you left? Maybe he shouldn’t do that. He carries on speaking. “But I'd better warn you, working as my secretary isn't easy. I have high expectations and demands-“

You cut him off, your tone blank and your expression still neutral. “I'm sure.”

God, he was infuriating to look at. You wanted to grit your teeth and roll your eyes or kick him but you remained professional and calm.

He was slightly amused by your response, your short, simple answer somehow satisfying him.

Leaning forward a bit in his chair, his eyes remained on you as he continued. “I have no doubt you can handle it.”

He paused for a moment before adding, “I hope you're up for the challenge.”

Tch, what challenge? The only challenge will have to be serving him for the next couple of months before you choose to quit.

His eyes lingered on your face for a few more moments, his heart still racing and the beat in his dick pulsing despite his calm demeanour. He tried to push the thoughts of your past relationship to the back of his mind, but being so close to you now was making it difficult. He wanted to reach out and touch you, but he knew he wasn't allowed to. He was your boss now, and he had to maintain a professional relationship with you.

“What do I have to do?” You question.

He sat back in his chair and picked up a folder on his desk, opening it and looking through the contents. You can’t deny how handsome he looks in his suit and his professional manner, it made you throb even though you despised him.

“Your primary job is to take and pass on my instructions, organise my schedule, arrange my meetings, prepare and take notes during business meetings, prepare reports, among other things.”

He glances up at you as he continues listing the duties of the position. “You will be in charge of handling my business calls and emails as well. Which means being available to me at all times.”

His eyes roam over your face, pausing for a moment on your lips before quickly looking back at the folder in front of him.

He closed the folder and placed it back on his desk, his eyes still on you. “Do you think you can handle this job? It can be demanding and time-consuming, not everyone is cut out for it...”

You inhale, exhale, and speak. “It's not that hard, just a lot of simple tasks to complete.” Really, it sounds like I’d be doing all his work for his lazy ass.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, seemingly entertained by your confident response. “You seem pretty confident in your abilities...” His arms across his chest, his voice suddenly more firm and serious. “But let me warn you, l have no patience for mistakes or incompetence. I expect everything to be done in a timely, accurate and professional manner. I'm not an easy boss to please, I demand the best of the best.”

“Yeah. I'm aware.” I state, a hint of irritating sarcasm in my tone. During our relationship, he'd always be toxic and impatient. Never understood the true meaning.. or even tried to understand the true meaning as to why you had become such a bitch towards him. Never came to the realisation that you were aware of his cheating.

He cleared his throat and sat up a bit straighter in his chair, trying to push those memories from his mind...

He kept his cool demeanour and spoke in a calm but strict tone.

“Good. As long as we're clear on that.” He paused for a moment, observing you closely as if trying to read your thoughts. He leaned forward a bit in his chair, his hands folded neatly in front of him on his desk.

“You start your first day of work today. I know that I’ve got a few meetings that need preparation and I need you to take on some duties today as well.”

He studied your face closely, taking in your reaction. He was still trying to figure you out, trying to figure out if you were hiding anything behind your neutral expression, but it was too hard. He always found it hard to understand you behind that expression.

“Okay. Do I get a written list or anything on what I need to do for each day?”

“Yeah, I have a list of assignments for you ready. But I'm also expecting you to keep up with daily tasks and schedules.”

He gestures to the laptop on the desk in front of you.

“There's a new file there. It's for all of the assignments and tasks you need to do, it's constantly updated and you'll find everything in it that you need to do for today and the future.”

You slide the laptop in front of you as you speak, breaking eye contact, “Okay.”

“Any questions?”

“Hm.. I’ll ask you when they come.”

“Can I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why are you applying for jobs? You don’t even need to work.”

You sigh, of course he’d ask that. You didn’t want to let him in on too much. “Why do you care?”

“Don’t get that tone with me, I’m just wandering.” He glared at you with a firm and cold expression.

You roll your eyes at him, finally. Your eyes were begging to do that from the moment you entered this room. “My parents wanted me to do something.”

“Ah.. They doing okay?” He questions, a little smile on his face.

You don’t respond, just stare at him with a bored expression because, why the fuck is he asking how your family is?

He nodded with a small smirk playing on his lips, the fuck is he smiling for now? God you just wanted to get up and kick his dick, make sure he’s unable to fuck any other woman.

“Alright then. I have a meeting in about an hour. Get started on those tasks. And do a good job. I'll be watching you.” He cuts off your intrusive thoughts as he speaks.

You grab your laptop and say your goodbyes, you can’t help but be irritated with the way he’s speaking to you. No please, no thank you?

“She's still as cold as ever...” He mumbled to himself, his brain replaying the look on your face, the sound of your voice. He knew you were intentionally hiding your emotions, putting up a professional front, but he couldn't deny that he was enjoying the game of trying to figure you out.

He leaned back in his chair, sighing deeply as he tried to clear his mind. But he couldn't focus on his work, his thoughts still lingering on you.

You make your way to a smaller office designed for the secretary, small yet simple and spacious. You browse through your laptop which had a detailed list of assignments and tasks, some assigned to you that day and some that you would be handling in the days to come. “Jesus. I'm basically doing his work for him. Tch.” You whisper to yourself as you prepare the meetings and documents for today.

Meanwhile, in his office, his dick was still hard. Punching through his pants aching for release, he had to place his sweating forehead on his desk to control his breathing. But it was futile. He contemplated whether it would be harassment to touch himself to you but fuck, he needed to.

He stood up, walked heavily with ragged breathing and locked his office door then made his way back to his seat, immediately unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down so he’d have access.

His mind ran back to the times he’d pound into you, the wet, filthy noises that would escape from your entrance and your tongue. His hands glided up and down at the thought. The words you’d say to him as he fucked you raw in his bed.

“Just like that toru.. mh…”

“Yeah? Like this?” And he’d slam into you balls deep, making you scream his name as he panted like a dog in heat “That feel good, princess?”

“So.. so g-goo- oh!” You were so drunk off his dick you were never able to form full words. He loved the way your soaked walls would clench him even though you’d whine, “T-too much.. no more!!” But no amount of your whining would make him stop, your pussy begged for him despite your words.

“Tell me how it feels.” He’d say through panting gasps as his fingers would rub over your clit rapidly whilst his dick hit your G-spot then pulled back out, then back in again, making sure to hit you well. He wanted to know how you felt as his dick would speed into you, wanted to raise his ego.

Then he’d push down on your abdomen, just where he’d bulge through your sweaty skin, “You feel that? You take me so well, baby..”

And the way you’d cry out in pleasure, weakly trying to push his hand away from pushing down but he’d just chuckle, pushing down harder as the sound of squelching wetness filled the room.

He can’t help it, mid-wank he picks up his phone from his desk, scrolls through his hidden images in his gallery and rewatches the clips he’d take of you moaning and whimpering his name as he played with your clit. He never deleted anything of you.

He panted heavily once he reached his climax, his hands filthy. Shit. He headed to the bathroom connected to his office and cleaned himself up. Was it harassment to touch himself to you.. without permission? I mean it’s not like you knew.. Shit, maybe he fucked up. Nobody will know anyway.

Time ticked by as you worked on the tasks for the rest of the week, diligently typing away on the keys of the laptop and sipping on the frappe you had bought. Whilst Satoru attended his meetings and completed his work in his office. Although, every time he’d walk around the building, he’d always steal glances of you in your office working. And god, you always looked as beautiful as ever to him.

His father, the former CEO, strolls into the building, his presence immediately commanding respect from all the employees as he walks by. He was a tall and dignified man, his presence alone enough to make everyone take notice. Every employee, including you bowed to him, paying respects.

Shit, this must have been the building he would talk about to you in the past. He’d always complain to you how his father wanted him to overtake his business, but he never told you the name of the building. Well, to be fair, you never asked. And now here you are, working as a corporate slave for your ex boyfriend of a dick.

“It's nice to see you again, y/n.” He says to you, standing before your desk, probably confused.

“Ah... you too sir.”

“I wasn't expecting to see you working here, it's been a while.” His tone was gentle, but there was an undertone of curiosity and concern in his voice.

You nod and offer an awkward smile, “Yeah... I didn't know Satoru was the CEO of this building.”

“Yes, he took over as CEO two months after you both... ended.” He pauses for a moment before speaking again, his tone slightly wary. “And you're working as his secretary now...?” He questioned, looking around the office.

Oh fuck, embarrassing. It sounds as if you’re desperate to be seen by Satoru. “Yes. I am.”

He nods again, his expression still neutral as he continues to observe you, “I see...”

Awkward as fuck. Not because he’s Satoru’s father, you and his family had a good relationship when you were dating. It’s more awkward that your specifically working for his son now.

“How are things between you and Satoru? You two are on... good terms?”

“...I guess.” You fiddle with your hands slightly, wanting to let out a long, deep sigh.

“You guess...?” He lets out a small sigh and continues, his tone slightly gentler this time. “Are you getting along with Satoru fine? No... issues, or arguments?”

“No, not at all sir. We’re okay now.” True, you aren’t. It’s more boring talk. But maybe it’s because you haven’t lashed out on him yet.

He studies your face as you speak, trying to read your expression. He can tell you're not being completely honest, but your words are spoken in a polite and professional tone. “I see..”

“So are you... enjoying working here? You're not feeling uncomfortable or anything?”

“No not at all, it's good working here. The building is amazing.”

“I'm glad to hear that. The building is quite impressive, isn't it? And I hope Satoru isn't... giving you too much work to do?”

You chuckle in response,”Well, I am working on tasks for next week so..”

“Ah, I see. So he’s already making you work ahead of time..”

As his father leaves your office, he makes his way to Satoru’s office, his eyes narrowing slightly as he sees him lazing around in his chair.

“Satoru...” His voice is a low, almost a disapproving grumble as he enters the room, closing the door behind him.

Satoru, hearing his father's voice, looks up with a slight expression of annoyance on his face. “Ugh... what is it?”

He lazily spins around in his chair, his body language oozing nonchalance and boredom.

His father doesn't look amused as he walks up to his son’s desk, a stern expression on his face. “We need to talk.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze fixed on Satoru as he continues. “I was just in your secretary's office, and you know who I saw?”

He raises an eyebrow at his father's words, a mixture of annoyance in his eyes. “Y/n?” He says in a bored tone, as if he's already expecting some sort of lecture from his father.

“Yes, why?”

“Oh, yeah. I hired her.” He responds casually, as if it’s normal to have your ex girlfriend work for you.

His father lets out a sigh, his expression becoming more agitated. “Anyway, you need to get married soon. You're already 28.”

Satoru groans and rolls his eyes at his father's words. He's heard this lecture from his father numerous times, and it always irritates him. “You're still on about that?”

His father remains stern and insistent, his arms crossed over his chest. “Yes, I am. You're at the age where you should be looking for a suitable partner. You can't just keep playing around forever and hooking up with random whores. It's time for you to settle down.”

Satoru lets out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Ugh, can we not have this conversation right now? I'm busy.”

His father's expression hardens even more at his dismissive attitude. “No, we're having this conversation now. And you're not going to use the ‘I'm busy' excuse this time. You've been putting this off for far too long, Satoru. It's embarrassing to have a son who has sex with prostitutes. You need a wife to put you in your place. You need to have kids so you remain a good man.”

Satoru's eyes narrow at his father's words. He knew it was pointless to argue at this point, but he couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation at being lectured like a child.

“And who do you expect me to marry? Do you have someone in mind?”

“Well, if you're asking for my opinion, yes I do have someone in mind. But knowing how stubborn you are, you're probably not going to like it.”

He raises an eyebrow again at his father's words, curious. He lets out a sigh, resigned to having this conversation. “Fine, spit it out. Who is it?”

His father takes a deep breath, bracing himself for Satoru's reaction. He knows what he's about to say will probably not go over well with him.

“Even though she’s your ex now.. y/n. She's a good girl and she comes from a respectable background and we liked her. You two were together for a while. Who better knows you? She'd be able to keep you in line. You're still hung up on her anyway, just stop fucking around and treat her well, then she'll be happy with you.”

His face immediately darkens at his father's words, his eyes narrowing in disbelief. “You can't be serious. You actually want me to marry y/n?”

His father lets out a small chuckle at Satoru's protest, not taking his words seriously at all. He's clearly amused by his son's denial. “Oh please, I know you're still into her. And she doesn't hate you, she's just mad at you because you messed up. And her boyfriend? Pfft, I saw him, he's a pathetic waste of space. She deserves someone better, someone like you. Just stop being a coward and admit you still like her.”

He lets out a scoff at his father's words. He can't believe his father is talking about y/n like this, as if he knows better than him. It's pissing him off, even though he’s right.

“You're seriously overstepping your boundaries, old man. I'm not a damn teenager who can't make decisions for themselves. I'm the CEO of this company, and I have a private life. No, I'm not marrying y/n. It's not happening.”

“You're acting like a child, Satoru. And don't give me that CEO bullshit, it won't work on me. You're still my son and I'm still your father, and I'm telling you to marry her. End of story. I'll arrange the marriage even if I have to force it, I'll get y/n to agree.”

Satoru's jaw clenches, his patience reaching its limit. He can feel anger coursing through him, and he has to force himself to stay calm. “You'll what? Arrange a marriage?! Dad, you're out of your damn mind. You know damn well y/n and I didn't end on good terms. We were constantly at each other's throats, it was a disaster. And forcing her to marry me? That's insane.”

His father scoffs, “Who else would you marry?”

“Anyone but y/n. Literally anyone. I’ll marry a stranger, I don't care. Just don’t push y/n onto me.” Satoru's voice is firm and unrelenting, but there's a hint of desperation in his eyes as he stares at his father.

His father lets out a frustrated sigh, seeing that his son is in no mood to listen to reason. He takes a deep breath and tries a different approach. “Alright then. I'll have a few respectable women, or girls your mother and I know come over to the family estate. They'll talk to you and you talk to them. Then come to me and tell me which one you prefer. Deal?”

Satoru’s expression softens slightly, his anger slowly subsiding. He doesn't like the idea of being set up with women he's never met, but it's better than being forced to marry his ex. “... Fine. But I'm not promising anything.”

His father smiles slightly, glad that he's finally getting through to Satoru. If he doesn’t prefer any of them, then he’ll definitely arrange you both. But he won’t mention that yet.

“Good. I'll arrange it then. And I better see you talking properly to these girls, got it? No snide comments or sarcasm. Just behave well. Don't embarrass me son.”

He rolls his eyes but nods reluctantly. “Yeah, yeah I'll be on my best behaviour. Don't worry.” He mutters, still not thrilled about the entire situation of marriage.

“Today, tomorrow, next week? When?”

“Next week. This coming Saturday. I'll have them head to your study room in the estate, not your apartment, so make sure you come over in the morning. Be ready.”

Satoru nods again, resigned to his fate. He knows his father is not backing down. “Alright, I'll be there.. Whatever.”

The next day, Satoru is bored in his office, idly scrolling through his social media feeds when he receives an email from you. He opens it up and reads through his schedule for the day, letting out a small sigh.

It's then that he suddenly remembers the conversation between him and his father, and the arrangement to bring the women over to their estate next week. He groans inwardly, not looking forward to it at all.

He could just do as his father's says and marry you instead. but you're his ex and you hate him because he's apparently toxic. and he doesn't even like you anymore since you became so bratty. At least, that what he tells himself.

As his thoughts swirl through his head, an idea starts to form. He glances at the door to his office, considering it for a moment. then he calls out to you through the phone speaker. “Hey, come in here for a moment.”

You hear his voice over the alert system in your office room and head over, once inside you speak, “Is something the matter?”

He motions for you to close the door behind you and sit down. “No, everything's fine. Just sit down.”

He waits for you to sit down on the chair opposite him, his eyes studying your face as you do so. He's not sure how you're going to react to what he's about to say.

“I need to ask you something. And I want you to be completely honest with me.”

Okay, you can do that.

He leans forward slightly, his hands resting on the desk in front of him as he looks you in the eye. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

You respond immediately, “No.” Did he expect you to be open considering our history? What an idiot.

He chuckles as he looks down, “Damn, you're still as bratty as ever.”

He leans back in his chair and looks at you again. “You still hate me, huh?”

You stare back at him, a bored expression on your face, “Obviously.” You hated his guts and he knows that.

“Yeah, I figured. We did end on bad terms after all, didn't we?” He speaks with a hint of arrogant irritation in his voice.

You sigh before you speak, “What do you want?”

He leans forward again, resting his elbows on the desk and entwining his fingers in front of him. His gaze is steady and intense as he looks at you. “I need you to listen closely to what I'm about to say and try to keep an open mind. Can you do that?”

“What?”

Inhaling deeply, he prepares himself for your reaction. He knows this is going to be a difficult conversation. But he should at least ask before closing off the option.

“I'm going to ask you something... a little... hm. I don't know what's the word but, don't get all mad at me. It's just an offer from my father. it's not that I want to but I'm just letting you know.”

You groan in irritation at him, “Okay, so what is it?” He’s taking too long and you’re becoming impatient.

He almost chuckles at the frustration on your face. But he knows better than to make any dumb comments if he wants to even have a chance to explain himself.

“Alright, alright. I'll get to the point.” He clears his throat, preparing himself for your reaction. “My father wants me to get married. He gave me the first option to marry you but I denied it because, well I thought you'd say no anyway. So instead he arranged some women for me to meet next week at our estate.”

“Okay? What do you want me to do about that?”

He sighs, “You're really making it difficult for me to talk to you." He rubs his temple with his fingers, getting annoyed with your stubbornness. “Alright, I'm just gonna say it then.”

He takes a deep breath and looks at you straight in the eye. “I'm gonna ask you again. Do you still hate me, yes or no?”

“Yes. I hate you.”

“You really are damn stubborn, you know that?” He sits back in his chair, studying your face for any signs of weakness or doubt. But your expression remains icy and impenetrable, just like it always was before you broke up with him..

He leans forward again, his gaze never leaving your face. “Fine, you hate me. But that's not the question I'm asking.”

But that was the question he just asked?

“My father was going to arrange our marriage forcibly, but I told him not to because I thought you'd disagree. If you could, would you agree to the marriage?”

You contemplate for a moment, would you? You hate him, you can’t trust him anymore. Not when he cheated with some random prostitute. “It depends.”

He quirked an eyebrow at your answer, intrigued and slightly amused that you're actually considering the possibility. “Depends on what?”

“Money.” You say blankly. Hypothetically, at least. You weren’t being serious but if it were to happen you’d marry him for money. Because only money could make you get back with a cheating ex like Satoru.

He scoff at your response. It's so typical of you to think of the financial aspect first. But he doesn't seem too surprised. “Oh, you're such a greedy little gold digger. I'd be paying you to be married to me, huh?”

“What's the problem with that? I have money and come from wealth too, it’s only obvious I’d still want more. If I married you I’d want to be paid weekly.”

You watch him shake his head and chuckle, both amused and annoyed at your audacity. He never expected you to actually admit to being a gold digger so shamelessly. “Damn. You really have no shame, do you?”

He looks at you as he considers your proposition for a moment, “Weekly payments, huh? How much are you thinking?”

“Hm. To get married to you and leave my boyfriend... £100k to get married to you, then £2k weekly sent to my bank. I'm only saying that because it's not gonna happen.” You say the last sentence firmly, standing your ground as you glare at him from your seat.

He grins at the ridiculously bold request, “£100k to marry me? And £2k weekly? You're really trying to milk me for everything I've got, huh? You're fuckin’ expensive.”

“Those are reasonable offers if your rich. You have the money to give that.”

He can't deny that you're right. Though he finds your demands amusing and frustrating at the same time. "You really have no shame to ask for that much money, don't you?” He mutters under his breath.

“And why do you want £2k weekly? wouldn't I be providing you with everything as your husband?”

Ugh, he’s asking as if I’d ever accept him as my husband.

“What do you plan to do with the £2k weekly payments?”

“For myself, obviously. You’re questioning me as if it'd actually happen. I'm not marrying you.” You chuckle as you speak. “Was just answering your question from before.”

“I know you're not gonna marry me, it's just a damn hypothetical question.” he mutters, his voice edged with frustration. “But I'm asking why you'd want that much money for yourself?”

“Why wouldn't I? Plus If I had left over money, l'd pass it down to my children for inheritance.”

“Of course you're thinking about inheritance for your children,” he says in a sarcastic tone. “You know, most people get married for love, not just for money.”

“Yeah, but I wouldn't be marrying you for love, it'd be forced if ur father went through with it for real. Anyway, good luck to the women you're meeting next week. I have work to do and this conversation is annoying. I'll be taking my leave.”

He eyes you as you stand up and head toward the door, slightly annoyed and amused at the same time by your bluntness. “Right, right," he mutters, leaning back in his chair again. “Run off to do your work. Maybe you'll find another guy to milk for money while you’re at it.”

You roll your eyes and scoff as you exit the room, shutting the door behind you.

He lets out a long, heavy sigh and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head at the crazy idea that he even considered discussing the possibility of marriage with you. “Damn it...” he mutters to himself, “What the hell am I thinking... Tch. annoying bitch.”

Saturday finally rolls around, and Satoru finds himself sitting in his family's grand estate, waiting for the women his father had invited. He's sitting in his study room, tapping his fingers on the armrest of the couch with growing irritation. He still dreads the idea of having to meet all these women, especially after the conversation he had with you a few days before.

Hours passed by, but to no surprise, all the women were either bratty, annoying, clingy, boring or ugly. He heads to his fathers study room, his frustration growing with each step.

He had hoped at least one of the women would pique his interest, but they were all lacking in one way or another. Finally, he reaches his father's study room and knocks on the door. He waits a moment before hearing his father call out from inside, “Come in.” A small smirk playing on his father face.

He steps into the room seeing his father sat smoking a cigarette, his expression a mix of irritation and disappointment. As if he knew that you wouldn’t like any the women. He closes the door behind him and stands in front of his father's desk, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Judging by your face, I'm guessing the meetings didn't go well?”

Satoru lets out a heavy sigh “You could say that. None of the women you picked out were my type. Honestly, they were all damn awful to be honest.”

His father lets out a small chuckle at Satoru's blunt assessment. He leans back in his chair and looks at his son “I see. Well, I guess that's expected, given your picky taste in women. So marry y/n. I'll arrange it.”

His eyes widened at his father's words. He hadn't expected him to bring up your name again so casually.

“What? Wait, hang on I told you we shouldn’t-“

Cutting him off, his father waves his hand dismissively. “I know what you said, but you didn't find anyone suitable so there’s no other option.. You're not that old, but you should start thinking about your future. I'm tired of you always spending your time with prostitutes. Y/n’s a good girl, and she's from a good family that I know well. It's the perfect match.”

“That's bullshit, I don't care if she’s a 'good girl' we don’t like each other anymore, and you know that.”

“You can't just rely on picking women based on your taste. You have to consider the bigger picture, Satoru. Y/n is from a wealthy family, and a good partner for the future. You can't just dismiss her because you don’t like her. You have to think about how this will benefit you and your future. And don't lie to me, you loved her until you both started arguing constantly because of your behaviour. Fix yourself up. I'll speak to her and arrange the marriage, I'm good at persuading.”

Satoru clenches his fists, trying to keep his cool “Damn it...I can't just agree to marry her because it's convenient. What about my own feelings and preferences? I don't care if she's from a wealthy family or a 'good partner for the future.' I'm not some damn chess piece in your grand plan. Why the hell can't you just leave me alone about this? I don't want to be stuck down to one women I like my fucking prostitutes and why does that even bother you?! The public don't even know.”

His father slams his hand on the desk, his patience wearing thin at Satoru’s vulgar and immature words.

“Enough nonsense, Satoru! I'm tired of your selfish attitude. You're not a child anymore, you're 28 years old, it's time you start acting like an adult. Marriage is not just about your feelings, it's about responsibility, legacy and power. Y/n’s family status and background will bring stability benefits that will outweigh your damn personal preferences. I don't care how many damn prostitutes you sleep with, you're marrying y/n.”

“I've already spoken to her, I gave her a hypothetical question, and you want to know what she said?”

His father looks slightly surprised at his words, but he quickly regains his composure “And what did she say?”

“She said, if she did marry me it would be for money.”

His voice is laced with frustration and anger as he crosses his arms, his glare fixed on his father.

“She was only interested in the damn money. Nothing else. Told me if you forced her to marry me, she'd only go ahead with it if she was pre-paid £100k and then paid a further £2k by me weekly. then she said she's only saying that because it'd never happen and she won't marry me.”

His father's expression remains neutral, “What's so bad about that? We have wealth and so does she. it's only normal for her to want more, especially if your her ex. I don’t blame her.”

His anger reaches a boiling point at his father's nonchalant response. He leans forward, his eyes blazing with frustration, “You're goddamn right she's my ex. And that should be enough reason for you not to try to force me to marry her against my will.”

He runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down, but his frustration is evident in his every movement.

His father leans back in his chair, his expression still calm, “Listen, I understand that you have your reasons for not wanting to marry her. But you have to understand that I'm only thinking about what's best for you. She comes from a wealthy family, and she shares similar values to ours. She'd be a valuable addition to our family, and I'm sure you'd be able to find happiness with her if you stopped your toxic behaviour.”

Satoru's jaw clenches as he listens to his father's words. He can't believe that his father is still pushing this idea, despite his objections. “You just don't get it, do you? It's not just about your stupid values and wealth. I have my own life, my own preferences, my own damn desires.”

He shakes his head, feeling a mixture of anger and frustration. “You can't force me to marry someone, my ex, just because it's convenient for you or our family reputation.”

“Satoru, stop being so goddamn egotistical. This isn't just about pleasing me or our ideals. It's about doing what's right for your future. And let's be honest, your current lifestyle isn't exactly sustainable in the long run. You need a partner who understands and respects you, whom you can share your life with. And someone who can keep you in check. Leave my room. I'll arrange you and y/n. That's the end of it.”

“Ugh, fine! but don't expect me to treat her like a goddess wife.” He was tired of these lectures, tired of his futile defensive arguments.

“Trust me, after spending a few days with her as your wife, you'll come to appreciate her, she was always a good daughter figure when she’d visit whilst you dated.”

He leans back in his chair, folding his hands “And I expect you to be on your best behaviour. No more womanising or hookups, got it?”

He rolls his eyes, feeling frustrated but also resigned to the situation “Yeah, yeah, I got it. No more women, no more hookups. You want me to be a damn saint, I'll be a saint.”

A day later, his father calls me, telling me to visit their estate and that he has something important to discuss with me. I head over and enter the family estate, a butler leading me to his fathers study room. Am I going to get fired already? No.. if I were to be getting fired I’d be called to Satoru’s office.

Satoru sits in his father's room, staring out the window as his father sits beside him. His thoughts still swirl with anger and frustration but he knows he has no choice to argue with his father.

Suddenly, his father's butler knocks on the door and enters the room. “Excuse me. Miss l/n is here saying that you called for her?” He steps aside, revealing you standing in the doorway.

“Hello..”

His father stands up and smiles at you warmly

“Ah, y/n, please come in. Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

I enter the room, closing the door behind me and glance at satoru confused, his expression neutral, only with slightly furrowed brows. Then I returned my gaze back onto his father.

His father gestures for you to take a seat across from him and Satoru. “Please, have a seat. There's something important we need to discuss with you.”

After taking your seat, His father leans forward, his tone serious “Y/n, I've called you here because Satoru and I have had a chat recently. And we both agreed that it would be beneficial for all of us if you and Satoru were to get married.”

Oh god, he can’t be serious. “Mr. Go-“

His father continues, ignoring your reaction

“I understand that this might come as a surprise, but hear me out. Satoru needs a partner who can help him grow and mature. And I believe that you are the perfect candidate for that. You come from a good family and have a strong sense of responsibility. You can provide the stability and guidance that Satoru desperately needs.”

“I... thank you for the offer but I-“

His father holds up a hand, stopping you from protesting further “You'll be given the money you want. £100k beforehand and £2k weekly by this idiot here, right?”

You part your lips slightly and your breath catches in your dry throat. You weren’t being serious with that amount, simply stating it because you didn't expect it to happen. You wave your hands in protest as you smile awkwardly “No, No I-“

His father raises an eyebrow, clearly sceptical of your protest, “You were the one who suggested the money. Don't try to back out of it now. I’m offering a significant amount of financial security. Not to mention, being married to Satoru would mean a life of luxury and comfort.”

Satoru, who had been silent until now, finally speaks up. He leans back in his chair, a mix of irritation and resignation in his voice. “Just take the damn deal, y/n.”

“Tch, don't tell me what to do.”

“Why are you being so difficult? we're offering you a once in a lifetime opportunity here. You'd be a fool to reject it.”

You roll your eyes, looking away and sighing. He's right, but it would be hell for you. Get back with the ex who cheated on you with a prostitute..? It’s crazy.

His father clasps his hands together, sensing that you're starting to give in, “If that's not enough, £200k beforehand, £3k weekly.”

“You're serious...? About this?”

“Absolutely. I've already spoken to your parents and they agreed, but do you?”

Satoru watches you intently, waiting for your answer. He's starting to feel a sense of annoyance at your hesitancy, but he tries to hide it.

His father leans forward, “Y/n, you won't have to work another day.”

"You'll have access to the best of everything, a life of luxury, and you'll be a part of a high-profile family. Think about it, you'll never have to worry about money or anything again."

“I mean I already don't... have to worry…” You’re starting to give in. Oh god this can’t be good.

“Yes, but the offer is still there. You'd have more. You know our family is #1 wealthiest in Japan, your family is #50 wealthy. Think about it.”

Satoru can't contain himself anymore, he leans forward, his irritation evident in his voice “Damn it, you're being stubborn for no reason. Just take the deal already.”

You scowl at his words and tone, giving a dirt as you furrow your brows.

Sator glares right back, his irritation at your defiant attitude growing.

“Just take the fucking deal you love money anyway!”

“Fine!” I yell back with a frustrated groan.

His father lets out a satisfied exhale, a small smile on his face.

“Excellent. I'm glad you came to your senses.”

Satoru leans back, a mix of frustration and resignation on his face. “Finally, you gave in.”

His father’s tone became more serious as he speaks, “Now that that's settled, there are a few conditions that we need to discuss.”

He pauses, looking at Satoru, “First, Satoru. You will not contact any of your former lovers or hookups. The public and our family would look down on that. You must maintain a clean image as a couple.”

You scoff a laugh. “Tch. Of course you had prostitutes right after I left you.” He really was a damn sex freak. You can’t believe he didn’t catch on to the fact you knew he cheated on you. What a dickhead.

He rolls his eyes, feeling a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment at being called out on his behavior.

“Yeah, I did. So what? I had em before you and had em after.”

The audacity for him to blatantly admit such a disgusting thing makes you stare at him in both disbelief and disgust. You hid it well, but it did hurt you. It was like as if he poured acid onto your heart.

His father shakes his head, his disapproval evident

“Satoru that's exactly the type of behaviour that needs to change, immediately. You are a part of a powerful family, and your actions reflect on us all. No more of that immature behaviour.”

He rolls his eyes as he leans back on his seat, looking away, “Yeah, I know.”

“Second, y/n, you will be expected to support Sator in every way possible. This means attending family events and public appearances with him, offering him emotional support, and generally acting as a supportive partner.”

“Of course that's basic stuff, I can do that.” You respond softly, and maturely.

“Good, I'm glad you understand.” He clears his throat,“Onto the third condition. This is the most important one.

His voice takes a firm, serious tone “It involves the matter of heirs. You'll be expected to have children within the next 2 years of the marriage. Ideally, a son and a daughter.”

You should have expected that as a condition too.

“This is non-negotiable. We want to ensure the continuing of our family line, and we expect you two to fulfil your duty.”

I smirk slightly as I look down at my lap, “Do I get paid for pregnancy too?” I ask sarcastically.

"Actually, yes. You'll receive an extra £80k for each pregnancy, and £150k for giving birth.”

Your breath hitches once more, he can’t be serious.. “What?” That amount is far too ridiculously huge, even for you.

His father smiles slightly, seeing your surprise. "That's correct. We understand that pregnancy can be a difficult and exhausting experience, both physically and mentally. That's why we're willing to offer additional compensation as a token of our appreciation for your efforts in continuing our bloodline."

“Wait I was just joking-“

His father chuckles slightly, dismissing your protest.“Oh, I know you were joking, but we take this seriously. The compensation is non-negotiable. We want to ensure that you and Satoru have all the support and resources you need to start a family.”

“But that’s not necessary I promis-“

“It is necessary. He’s our only child, it’s only right that we gift his wife and mother of his children. And you’ll be keeping him in check from his…. Behaviours.”

To think you’re actually agreeing to this is mental. If you were to speak to yourself a week ago you’d be laughing hysterically.

“Right.. right. Next two years..”

“Yes, within the next 2 years. We want to ensure that the family line is continued in a timely manner.”

Satoru remains mostly silent in his seat, a hint of irritation in his expression at the conversation's direction.

His father continues, a stern tone in his voice, “It's not solely your responsibility dear, of course. Satoru will also be expected to play an active role in the child-rearing process, but you will be the main caregiver and nurturer.”

I mean, it’s not so bad. But it’s Gojo Satoru who will be your husband and father of your children. What if he just cheated again? How does his father expect you to keep him in line?

He looks back and forth between you and Satoru

"You both will work together to raise your children, providing them with the love, care, and stability that a family should have. It won't be easy, but we believe that you're both capable of it."

Satoru bristles visibly at his father's words. The thought of having children so soon with his bitch of an ex, is far from appealing to him. Yes, he still has a few feelings for you, but not enough to want to be forced with you. Not like this. But he bites back any protest, knowing it's fruitless to argue with his father.

"Also, if you hate each other behind closed doors, expect you both to appear as a loving couple for the public.”

“Yes.. we will.”

"And Satoru, you better stay behaved. We don't want any more scandals that might embarrass the family's name.

You're lucky they haven't seen you with those whores you've met."

He grits his teeth at his father's comment, feeling a mixture of anger and embarrassment at his indiscretions being brought up time and time again. "I already told you, I'll stop those hookups. There's no need to constantly bring it up."

"I'll believe it when I see it. Just remember, your actions reflect on this family.”

His gaze shifts back to you.

"And y/n, I know you’ll keep Satoru in line. Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

“I will.”

"Good. I have faith in you to keep Satoru in check."

His expression suddenly turns serious again.

“One more thing, both of you. Absolutely no infidelity after marriage. I expect absolute loyalty from both of you.”

“Say that to him not me” I mutter, rolling my eyes towards Satoru’s direction.

Satoru clicks his tongue at your words.

His father sighs, directing his gaze at Satoru. “Satoru, I expect complete loyalty from now on. No more flings or hookups with anyone else. Your marriage is solely with y/n now.”

Satoru scowls at his father's words but doesn't argue. He knows that resisting is pointless. He turns his gaze to you, his expression a mixture of irritation and resignation. “I understand.”

346 notes · View notes

ryozakidesu · 1 year ago

Text

After You - N.JM

1/4 diary of the heartbreakers

summary: ➸ ♡ Na Jaemin had it easy. Loved by everybody, the man of everyone's dream. He's a perfect mix of a charmer and a player. Girls begged to be his, and he loved every part of it. Life used to be so fucking perfect for him. Then comes you. You're like an old book, ink fading, cover tearing, but he swears you're worth the read. Before you, life was easy. After you? He wasn't so sure.

"Break my heart, and you'll only find yourself inside."

GENRE: Angst, Smut, Fluff, Mature themes

WARNINGS: Minors DNI, Explicit sexual content, Language, Mental Illness, Drugs/Alcohol usage, Addiction, toxic!reader, fuckboy!Jaemin (but still a sweetheart)

WC: 19k (I got carried away, lol)

DISCLAIMER: This story is purely fanfiction. Only the names of the Idols are used, and does not reflect on them in real life. There's no way in any shape of form that they are like this in person, because I MADE IT UP. I don't personally know them. DO NOT STEAL / TRANSLATE / MODIFY. This is my work and I don't appreciate people stealing it. Thank you.

Enjoy reading! -ryo

"Look who finally decides to show up," Jeno welcomed Jaemin with open arms, Haechan and Renjun following in pursuit.

"Come on, I just saw you guys about a week ago. Don't be dramatic." Jaemin loosened his tie, sat at the vacant seat beside Renjun.

"No Yeri today?" Haechan smirked, obviously mocking Jaemin.

"She has plans with her friends," Jaemin wants to shift the topic quickly, not wanting to be the center of attention for so long.

"Are you sure its not because she hates us?" Renjun looked at Jaemin with his brow raised.

"She hates everyone." Jaemin grabbed the flute glass in front of him as he saw the waiter come by with champagne.

"No offense, Jaemin, but I hate that her too." Haechan, eating the garlic bread. Jaemin rolled his eyes.

"Makes two of us." Jeno chimed in, drinking his champagne aswell. Jaemin didn't say anything, waiting for Renjun's addition to his girlfriend's hate train.

"All of us hate her, actually. Sorry man but your girl is literally the reincarnation of the devil." Renjun.

"You guys done? I know she isn't the best but she's still my girlfriend?" Jaemin, like the other times his friends tell him how horrible his girlfriend is, try to defend her even tho he knows that they're partly right.

"Yeah, we know. One of the mysteries even Sherlock Holmes can't fucking solve." Haechan chuckled. Jaemin let out a sigh and drank the champagne in one shot. He barely gets a break from Yeri, and when he does, his friends still mentions her name in every conversation they have.

"She disrespects everyone, literally went out with you just to show you off to her friends. I don't understand why you're still with her." Jeno rants, trying to make Jaemin understand. He doesn't mean to drag Yeri, but Jeno cannot understand how the likes of Jaemin, will go out with Yeri who treats him like shit.

"No shit, dude. Neither do I." Jaemin admitted, leaning back on his chair before dragging his hands through his hair.

"How about Karina? She's great, you went out with her a few times, right?" Haechan.

Jaemin, for the ninth time this night, rolled his eyes. "She moved to Paris."

"Joy? The girl you took to Haechan's birthday?" Renjun, pulling up a picture of Joy he searched on instagram, just to show to Jaemin.

"Engaged to Sungjae." Jeno answered that one, Sungjae being one of his acquiantances.

"Oh, I know this girl from Busan--"

"Can we not talk about my fucking love life?! Y'all are just stressing me out, God damn." Jaemin massaged his temples, just wanting a breather. Before he went here, he already had an argument with Yeri.

"Chill, man. Fine.. jeez. Just wanted you to know your options." Haechan looks away and shrugged his shoulders. To be fair, his intent was truly innocent. They just wanted their friend to live a happy life.

As per Jaemin's wish, they moved on and changed the topic to something else. After a few drinks, Jaemin started to let loose.

He wondered about a lot of things. One of which is on how he ended up here. Stuck in a relationship he doesn't really want anymore. Seeing his friends and how happy they are really hits something inside Jaemin. When will he find that? Will he even find that?

Just like the other nights Jaemin drinks himself to slumber, a few glasses in and he starts to think of something so dangerous yet so good. Something forbidden, something he would probably regret. He thinks of you.

Jaemin's greatest what if. You were like a fever dream, a memory he would cherish forever. No one can compare to the beauty hold. You were Jaemin's drug, so captivating, yet so vicious.

He wondered where you are. Are you doing fine? Are you happy?

Sometimes Jaemin hopes you still think of him. That his relevance in your life, although it was short, still lingers in your mind once in a while.

And the memories you and him had, even though it was temporary, Jaemin wishes it was enough for him to believe that you'll meet again.

Jaemin met a lot of pretty girls. All of them, actually. Yeri, despite her frowned upon attitude, was actually beautiful. That's what drove Jaemin to ask her out in the first place. He just wasn't aware of the other things that comes with it. No one can deny the beauty that Yeri holds, and even tho it contrasts his friends opinions, they know that Yeri is still one of the prettiest girl Jaemin had.

But was she the most gorgeous? No. Because there was you. They all fall behind, after you.

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

The first time he saw you was at the school's cafeteria. You're an art student which he could clearly tell from the messy pencil on your bun as you ate with a friend at the back of the canteen. He knew that friend, Jeonghan, because.. he might've slept with his sister. He still couldn't remember tho, he was stupidly drunk that time.

"Who's that with Jeonghan?" Jaemin asked, still his eyes not leaving your face. As corny as it sounds, everyone's faces blurred out when he saw you.

"That's Jiho's bestfriend? I think? Wait, isn't Jiho that one chick you banged last week?" Haechan, the resident insider was the one to answer. Jaemin mentally cursed himself. You're Jiho's bestfriend. Usually that doesn't matter to Jaemin but somehow he felt some sort of guilt into taking an interest with you. Inevitably, you'll know what happened with Jiho and Jaemin, and you'll definitely see Jaemin as this asshole who slept with your bestfriend.

"Everybody knows that he slept with her, dude." Jeno chimed in, smirking.

"More like, everybody heard." Renjun followed, which earned a hefty laugh from his group of friends. Usually, Jaemin would respond with a strong punch in the arm but he was still in a dilemma on how he should approach you without giving off an asshole vibe in him.

Jaemin came up with a plan. Not a good one, but still, a plan. He would casually pass the Arts building, specifically where you usually hang out which was at the Art studio at the top floor, (don't ask him how he found out-- he has his ways) and just ask you where the exit to the building is since he never really got around this part of the university.

His plan sounded good, and just to be assured, he asked Haechan. Which wasn't a very good choice but the way Haechan got around the girls in the university, he deserved some credit. In typical Lee Haechan way he responded, "That'd totally work, dude. I don't know how that would go wrong."

Well, Jaemin now know how it would go fucking wrong.

As the plan goes, he reaches the top floor of the building and walked towards the Art studio at 5pm, because according to his sources, you like to stay after class to do your project on the Art studio. Again, don't ask Jaemin how he got those information. Which is proven to be credible, because he did find you sketching on a canvas by yourself. He could hear a faint music playing on the studio as you sketch, which Jaemin could tell was a portrait of a lady.

He cleared his throat, as he opened the door. Just like in his script, he spoke,

"Hey, uh, excuse me? I've been finding the exit from this building and uhm, I just can't. Can you-- uhm," Okay, fine, Jaemin did fuck that one up. But how can he not, when you turned around so majestically with the golden sunray perfetcly hitting your face which gave Jaemin a full view of your beauty?

"Na Jaemin? What the hell are you doing here?" You stood up, walking towards the speaker and turned it off.

"You know me?" Jaemin asked a dumb question. Everybody knows who he is. He's a fucking famous-- wait, no, he's just famous for fucking. That's it.

"Jiho and all the other girls around this place can't stop talking about how big your dick is, so I'd like to think I'm familiar with you, yes." Sarcasm fit perfectly with you, Jaemin thought. Although, he did not expect you to be this harsh given your soft exterior, nonetheless, he still found you pretty.

"Uh, that's uhm-- not the point, I need to find the exit." Stick to the plan, stupid. Jaemin had thought.

What surprises him even more was your sudden burst of laughter. What's so funny? Embarassment started to fill Jaemin, finding the whole situation dumb and stupid. Why are you laughing at him? This is the first time Jaemin felt this. Usually, girls are all over him, why are you laughing at him like he's some stupid idiot?

"Do you realize that if you're trying to find the exit, you go down the building, not the top floor?" At that exact moment, Jaemin wanted to bury himself alive.

"Dude, I didn't think you would fumble this bad." Jeno couldn't hold his laughter after Jaemin told him what had occured in the Art studio. There was only Renjun, Jeno and Jaemin in the dorm today, Haechan was steering out of Jaemin's view eversince he received a threat from his friend, quote, 'I'm gonna burn your hair off your scalp, Lee Haechan'

"You just turned around and left? Are you serious?" Renjun was more like dumbfounded. He expected more from Jaemin, being infamous in their little friendgroup for being a lowkey manwhore. He could not believe Jaemin could act so-- foolish?

"I didn't know what to say or do, bro. This is Haechan's fault, fuck!" Jaemin looked like a prepubescent teen screaming into his pillow. A couple leg-flailing and he'd successfully portray a thirteen yearold boy.

"This one's on you. You know damn well Haechan could pull that shit off with his over confident ass. Whats with this girl anyways?" Jeno asked, with little to no care about whatever Jaemin answered. He already knew you were Jaemin's type.

"You know Jaemin and his thing for innocent girls, Jeno. Are you not with him for the last seven years?" Renjun stated, which Jeno just nodded and shrugged.

"But the way she shut you down, I wouldn't say she's too innocent." Jeno had the other two thinking. Yes, with your soft brown hair and cute features, especially your love for art, you look like the stereotypical good girl that captured Jaemin's eyes. But your encounter says otherwise. No good girl can resist Na Jaemin. Everybody knows that.

Na Jaemin, contrary to his friend's beliefs, is the recent most popular man in his school. All of them were, but every student that knows him, (which is everyone) Na Jaemin is number one in his little friendgroup. He's the perfect balance between a player and a charmer.

Nobody hated the guy, they all liked him. Had the title of Prom King for four consecutive years, and has a squeaky clean reputation. Oh, don't get him wrong tho, he's a manwhore, still. Its just that every girl he has been with doesn't have any bad thing to say about the guy. He's got a great dick and even better personality. Word got around that even guys wouldn't mind if he slept with their girlfriends. That's how loved Jaemin is around the campus. He has a way with words, that once Jaemin calls quits on a girl, that girl would even say "Thank you."

Jaemin likes to think he's just being nice, but Haechan calls him a professional manipulator and gaslighter. Which if you do see it in a technical way, Jaemin's sweet words does affect the way girls interpret his intentions. Because in all honesty, he's just fucking and ghosting. But with a couple of I'm sorry's or Sweetheart's or maybe even a little bit of 'You don't deserve a man like me,' Jaemin easily could bounce out everytime.

"Also, why have we not heard about her? I mean, a face like that? Its impossible that she hadn't shown Haechan's radar." Renjun stated. Its true, it does feel weird that none of them knew who you were, specially Haechan. He's quite literally the hot girl radar and you definitely qualified as one. Its rate that Haechan never made a move on you, or even talked to you.

"Maybe she's really weird or has like a third nipple." Jeno sounds genuine, which was even worse. Jaemin couldn't help but question how is this man his best friend.

"Can you not be a twelve year-old?" Jaemin, as he threw a cushion over Jeno's side.

"Anyways, let's go back to Jaemin being a stupid idiot,"

["You got it?"] Renjun's voice was heard through the phone.

"Yes, you bitch. Now once I get home, I expect my beer and chicken laid in my table perfectly, or I'm burning your book." Its almost 7pm and almost everyone had already left the campus but Jaemin. Renjun had asked him to fetch his book from a friend, because Jaemin is the only one staying in the campus this late. For the reason being, well, he had a little make out sesh after his last class with Jiho.

Jaemin wasn't intentionally doing it just to spite you, its just Jiho was a great kisser. And maybe to get information about you, just a little. But that did not happen because he did not have the chance to actually talk to her about you as his mouth was a little preoccupied.

As he walked through the hallway, a door suddenly opened, which revealed you, hair dishevelled and your shirt was wrinkled. He knew that posture too well, out of all people, he's the one most familiar of it. You just did the nasty with someone.

In the school grounds? Jaemin scoffs. He was about to approach you when another body also came out of the room.

No way. No fucking way! Jaemin's eyes went wild, his jaw slowly parts as he saw who it was. He quickly hides behind one of the lockers to avoid you seeing him, only peeking his head a bit to confirm what he just saw.

Nurse Suh. You're sleeping with the school nurse. Jaemin was utterly shocked, as he contemplated on what he should do next. You're definitely not the innocent and soft girl he thought you would be, you're so far from it. And as far as he knows, Nurse Suh has a girlfriend! And not to mention, it's illegal!

"Nurse Suh?!" The three of his friends couldn't believe it either. Jaemin just could not keep the information to himself. He knew he could trust his friends.

"I mean, yes he's hot but isn't he like 34?" Jeno questioned.

"Dumbass, he's only 27. Him and my older brother are friends." Haechan said, then quickly looking back at Jaemin.

"And she's what, 22? I don't see anything wrong here." Haechan shrugged. Of course, out of all of them, Haechan would find this situation fine. He had slept with a teacher before, and called it his 'great awakening'.

"He has a girlfriend, you fucking idiot." Renjun said, hitting Haechan in the back of the head.

"So? You gotta do what you gotta do, man. Honestly, if I was Nurse Suh, I would tap it too." Followed by a playful chuckle, Haechan got another slap in the back of the head, this time, from Jeno.

"Stop hitting me! I need to protect my braincells, I need to pass the test tomorrow, you assholes." Haechan whined, massaging his head.

"Wait, Haechan, did you not know her before?" It was Jaemin's turn to ask, genuinely curious on why Haechan never made a move on you.

Haechan is basically like Jaemin, but even more evil. Sure, they're both manwhores but Jaemin leaves nicely. As to Haechan, he would leave without saying a word and pretend to not know you the next day. While Jaemin would receive love letters, Haechan receives death threats and some hex put on him. Its not like he's bad in bed, because if he is, he wouldn't be able to get his dick wet as frequent as he is now. It's because Haechan does not care for people's feelings.

"I did, I know who she was." Haechan shrugged. All three of them looked at him.

"Why didn't you.. like... tell me about that?" Jaemin's voice was small, a bit shy with what he just said.

"Because It's kinda funny when you get turned down." Haechan had a smile on his face whilst he said it. Jeno shook his head and Renjun just scoffed.

"Please tell me you're joking." Renjun. The boy laughed even more louder while shaking his head and before he knows, a flying cushion came straight to his face. But it didn't stop Haechan from smiling like an idiot.

"You know what's ridiculous, Haechan? That fucking faded out starwars shirt, because I'm gonna make you eat it you fucker!--" Jaemin fought back, reaching out for his friend but Haechan quickly moved away from him

"I'm sorry, Jaeminnie-- but I did try to flirt with her but she's cold as ice, man. And you all know how persistent I am so when me, Lee Haechan, gave up on a girl, you know that girl's impossible. And I heard that she never dates, well, I guess now I know why." Haechan explained himself but Jaemin is still annoyed and pissed.

"So you just let your friend get his ass handed to him? You should've told Jaem, man." Jeno.

"Admit it, It's kinda funny when Jaemin gets rejected. I mean, it almost never happens. And the one time it did, we're not even there to witness it." Haechan keeps smiling, pissing off Jaemin more, but his mind is else where.

---

"I had to say, I'm surprised you called me twice this week. Am I finally cracking your fuckboy code, Na Jaemin?" Jiho had a smirk on her face when he approached Jaemin at the closed off audiotorium in the science building.

"Can you sit down first?" Jaemin scooted a bit and gave space for Jiho to sit down. He has a whole different plan today, and although inviting the girl in his usual makeout spot almost always leads up to them hooking up, this time Jaemin is persistent on asking Jiho about you.

"This is weird. Aren't you taking my skirt off?" Jiho hesitantly sat beside the boy, expecting a kiss but instead, Jaemin has his brows furrowed and seemed bothered

"What? No. Not now. I just want to ask you something." Jaemin turned his body facing Jiho.

"You're being weird." Jiho leaned away a bit, still confused about the whole situation.

"You know y/n?" Jaemin goes straight to the point. Jiho had a visible shock in her face. She never expected your name to pop out from anyone's mouth, and especially not Jaemin's.

"Yes? Why?" Slowing her words, she inspected Jaemin's features.

"Nothing. Why haven't I seen her before?" The question Jaemin is most interested about.

"She's never gonna be interested with you, or anyone. Leave her alone." Jiho suddenly stood up, turned around and walked away as fast as she can, but not as fast as Jaemin.

Before she could even leave the auditorium, Jaemin got a hold of her wrist. "Why are you this weird about her?"

"I know you think you can woo her because you're Na Jaemin and you're a fucking playboy or some shit, but I'm telling you, not even as your hook up buddy, she's worse than you. So I suggest, as your friend, stay. away. from y/n."

---

"This is totally not weird. Yeah sure, I mean, we're just following a random girl walking down the street. Totally not weird." Renjun for one was scammed into doing this. Jaemin asked him to go with him and go buy some pants in the mall for a promise for Haidilao afterwards. Ofcourse Renjun is gonna agree, because he would never pass a free hotpot.

What Jaemin failed to say is that he has a little side quest on his itenirary for today. For someone who's unbothered most of the time, Jaemin is going insane thinking about the mystery that is you. And Jiho's outburst absolutely did not help at all.

"We're not following her. We're just y'know... happens to be in the same way as her." Jaemin knew what he was saying was bullshit, and that Renjun would never believe a word he says. But he would never admit that he's letting someone go and do cartwheel on his mind for almost two weeks now.

"Except we can't walk more than ten feet closer and we've been turning in the same corners as her for about thirty minutes." Sarcasm did not need to be noted.

Jaemin didn't listen and continued walking the same direction as you. This is definitely out of his character, but he has to know you. He's been intrigued enough to actually make an effort to atleast know who you were.

Suddenly, you turned left, into a busy cafe. "You promised me Haidilao, Na Jaemin. Not coffee!" Renjun started being a little irritated. He's hungry, exhausted and disappointed from Jaemin's fake promises. He doesn't need coffee right now, and hell, he's not gonna sit inside a cafe when he could have hotpot right now!

"Jesus, shut the fuck up!" Jaemin dug into his pocket and reached for his phone, typing for a minute and Renjun felt his own phone vibrated.

"Nice. I'll see you later, Sherlock Holmes." Jaemin sent Renjun money for hotpot, which quickly shifted the boy's mood.

"You're useless!" Jaemin yelled as Renjun walked away. "You love me!" Renjun replied with a smile as he skips away.

Jaemin hesitated a bit if he should enter the cafe. Is it too much just to suddenly show up where you are? No. This is the townsquare, students from his and your school are frequents here. It's not gonna be weird. Right, definitely.

The cafe is full packed, quite a line forming. There seems ro be no tables available, but Jaemin still decides to go inside. But as soon as he steps inside the cafe, his feet turned ice cold.

"Alright! I know, I'm sorry!" He sees you hurriedly putting on your apron, as another man seemingly upset with you. He quickly steps into the line of customers, and he just hopes that once he's on the counter, you would be the one serving him.

Jaemin thought he had time to calculate how he's gonna approach you, but the line was quickly moving, and he swear, he's fucking nervous. What if you didn't remember him? Or find him weird for being here?

As the last one in front of him turned to leave, he's finally infront of you. Unfortunately, you weren't looking and focused on the monitor in front of you.

"Uhm," he cleared his throat, trying to get your attention.

"What can I get you, sir?" Your customer service voice was obvious, and quite frankly, annoying. You smiled brightly at him, which he deemed so fake.

"Iced Americano, small." Jaemin's voice was deeper than usual, partly because he's nervous, and maybe because he wanted a cool guy impression.

"You literally followed me here just to get a small americano?" The humour in your voice makes Jaemin embarassed. Wide eyed, Jaemin feigned confusion, not wanting to be caught in 4k.

"I wasn't following y-you?" One thing Jaemin was bad at, was definitely lying. The way he stuttered at his last word says so.

You fought a smirk, again, leaving poor Jaemin feeling so little. "Sure, and the gravity isn't real."

"I swear, I'm not--"

"I'm on a break by 6:30. One small americano, right, sir?" You smiled at him, and Jaemin can fucking feel it. His heart skipping a beat.

"Make that large."

----

His drink already warm, ice all melted into one bland coffee, Jaemin started to feel pathetic. He's been sitting here, on the side of the cafe for almost three hours. He's realizing how stupid he is for doing all of this for someone who's not even that... special. He doesn't know you. You're pretty, yes, but there's always gonna be another girl who's prettier. Maybe its his dick thinking and doing the decisions earlier, but Jaemin saw his entire reputation go so far down if anybody knew he waited for you for three fucking hours. He never knew he could do all of this for a pussy he can easily get with other girls who would even beg for him.

Simmering in his own thoughts, Jaemin huffs and almost stood up to leave, Until he saw his phone, 6:29.

Shit, only one more minute wouldn't hurt anybody? No. Fuck her for playing hard to get. I'm Na fucking Jaemin! Who does she think she is?!

Just as Jaemin actually stood up, he saw you walking slowly towards him while undoing your apron, smile on your face making his knees literally weak that he had to sit down again.

"Leaving already?" You asked, sitting in front of him.

"I-I was just... stretching my legs." If his friends are here to hear the words he just said, he might just jump off a cliff.

"Sure. Now, tell me, Na Jaemin-ssi. What the fuck do you want from me?" Okay, now this, Jaemin did not expect this. Your words sounded harsh but your soft voice says otherwise. Being passive aggresive just makes Jaemin confused all over again.

But fuck it, you wanna play hard? Jaemin can do that. His patience wearing thin, he leaned back on the chair and smirked, almost like flipping on a switch in his aura.

"I want to fuck you." Jaemin didn't whisper, or even lower his voice. He said it so casually, and he noticed your confident stare flinch for a bit.

"I would, but I'm afraid you're not my type." Its like you two were having an asshole-off and seeing who's more cockier than the other. Jaemin isn't competitive, but he's not gonna lose this one.

"Don't be silly. I'm everybody's type." Jaemin definitely won by that line. Or so he thoughts.

"Judging from words on the streets, You're a walking STD. I think I'm gonna pass." This time, Jaemin's sure that you're just pissing him off. Maybe this is your way of playing hard to get, but Jaemin likes to play dirty.

"I fuck a lot but I'm clean, and even if that happens, I'm sure your little school nurse friend can help you." Visible shock in your face, its clear that Jaemin pushed your buttons. Your confident facade slowly shaking, as you gulped and blink trying to process what he just said.

But that didn't last long, only seconds after, you pulled back your smirk. "Oh, you've done some research, I see."

"Now come on, pretty girl. What do you say?" He started to feel it. He's cracking your hard shell.

"Are you really good in bed as they say you were?"

"Go on and ask your friend."

---

"Holy f-fuck, J-jaemin.. shit.. slowdown!" Your table aggressively banging as you bent over it, Jaemin mercilessly pistoning you from behind. His pants not even half way down his thighs, the lower hem of his shirt in between his teeth, showing his glistening abs flexing as he thrusts.

His left hand locking both yours behind your back, and his right hand keeping your head on the table, facing your side. Your mesh tights has been ripped, your skirt all the way up your stomach. One by one, your things that was left on the table started to fall on the ground, as Jaemin's aggressive thrusts forcefully moves the table on a rocking motion.

"Shi.. fuck, I'm coming.." Your hoarse voice was prominent, only motivates Jaemin to hit even harder. Only grunts and growls was heard from the boy, his moans blocked by his shirt between his teeth. Jaemin wasn't only fucking you, he's proving a point aswell. To you, and to himself.

He removes his hands from your head, allowing you to look at him from behind. His free hand brushed his hair backwards, still keeping his tempo. Sweat dripping, his thrusts started to stutter. He then grabbed your face, and pulled you to his chest. Letting go of the shirt in his lips, he whispered, "Come with me, sweetheart."

His hands finding your waist as he felt your walls tighten, an intense whine leaving your mouth as your leg shakes quietly. That triggered his own release, murmuring a few curse words as all his movements halts. Only heavy breathing was heard, everything else dead silent. He slowly pulls out, earning a moan from the both of you.

"That was.." You couldn't even finish, fixing your clothes, quickly sitting at one of your chairs on the table, afraid your knees might give out.

"Intense." Jaemin tucked himself on his pants as he sat down in front of you.

"Not bad," You smirked at him, trying to keep your composure. Jaemin smirked back, proud of himself.

"I thought I wasn't your type?"

"Gotta know what's all the fuss is about. I guess the cat died and curiousity wins." Out of breath, you suddenly picked something on the floor, and Jaemin notices that its a marker that had fell from the table.

"If you wanna do this again," you stared grabbing Jaemin's arms and writing your number on it. "...give me a call, yeah?"

"How about Nurse Suh?" Jaemin didn't wanna sound like a little whiny boy but he had to ask. Is she still going to continue seeing him?

"What about him?" You raised your brows at him.

"Won't he be mad?" Jaemin can see the laugh you held in, before shaking your head.

"We're not in a relationship, and will never be. Same goes to you. We just fuck and go. I'm clean, I hope you are too, and we're not passing the line of being each other's fuck buddy. None of that corny shit, or you're out. I hope you understand, Jaeminnie, you're just a good dick with a pretty face." Your soft face does not match the words you just spilled out. And Jaemin thinks he's hit the jackpot.

No commitments? Just good sex? With you? He thinks he's in heaven. He can't wait to tell the boys about this.

If Jaemin was in the movies, he would've fisted the air and smiled like an idiot.

"Here's to good sex?" Jaemin offers his hand, which you gladly accepted. "Good sex indeed."

---

Jaemin never minded what day it is. Just as long as he did what he needs to do today, he's fine. Tomorrow will have to wait. But eversince you, suddenly he felt impatient and counted the days until he saw you again.

After a few weeks, Jaemin and you saw each other twice a week, mostly Thursdays and Sundays, the days where your schedules matched. Jaemin never knew he would be stuck with one girl for this long, but damn. You're too good. You keep Jaemin on his toes every time he sees you. You were like a gift, waiting to be opened everytime. The excitement and the thrill always feels brand new. And Jaemin would never admit it, but every week, he'd hope the other days go by quickly and wishes it was Thursday again.

"He's smiling like a creep again, Jeno! What the fuck is up with your bestfriend?!" Haechan dramatically hid behind Jeno as Jaemin walked inside their little hang out spot, the old elementay library that became abandoned throughout the renovations.

"He's apparently getting the best pussy in the campus." Jeno shrugged and pushed Haechan away before he plopped himself down the couch.

"You're banging Im Hayeon?" Haechan widen his eyes as he strides towards Jaemin.

"No, dimwit. He's fucking y/n." Renjun, unbothered as usual as he continued drawing in his iPad.

"No way-- no fucking way!" Haechan gasps, grabbing Jaemin's shoulder as he shook it. Jaemin slaps away Haechan's hands and pushed him aside to sit beside Jeno.

"Shut up, Haechan. You're being dramatic." Jaemin pulled out his phone, hoping he would see your name pop up. Surprisingly, nothing but social media notifications greeted him, message requests and follows from people he doesn't know. He checked what time it is, 2:45pm.

Okay. Its still early. She'll text later.

"In all seriousness, dude, do you guys talk? like aside from doing it-- I mean." Jeno's tone was unusual. It's like he's being careful about something, or he wants to say something.

"Yeah? The fuck? D'you think we just fuck and go? Of couse we talk. Why?" Jaemin noticed Jeno's way of talking, turning his whole body towards his bestfriend.

"She tell you something about her?" This time, Renjun and Haechan leaned in.

"Get to the point, man." Jaemin.

"Nah, cuz the girl I was with last night told me that she's really... uh, popular at her previous school." Jeno, knowing the whole context, winced at the word 'popular'.

"What do you mean?" Jaemin's smile when he came here was no longer visible, replacing it with a frown as his brows creased in nervousness.

"I don't know-- man, I think you just... ask her, y'know?" Jeno wasn't comfortable sharing the information he had, but he knew Jaemin needs to know. But he wasn't sure if he's in the place to tell it.

But Haechan did not give a fuck. He's intrigued, and before they knew it, he's deep inside his phone texting someone.

"What are you doing?" Renjun asked.

"Since Jeno is being a pussy and won't share, I'm finding it out." And a second before Haechan could even type another letter, Jeno grabbed his phone away.

"Don't! Don't fucking search it. We should respect her, man. She's still a girl and I heard it was taken down---"

Haechan gasped even louder, even breathing out an "oh my god", He didn't say it out loud but the four of them were thinking the same thing.

"Holy fuck, she has a sex tape?!" Haechan, ofcourse was the first one to break the silence.

And once again, you surprised Jaemin.

---

"I'm famished, god damn." You sat beside Jaemin on your old couch, digging a spoon on your bowl of cereal. Your top barely even buttoned, you started eating a spoonfull after another.

"Slow down, you'll--" before Jaemin even finishes, you caught something in your throat and coughed almost everything in your mouth.

"What did i tell you? Aish-" Jaemin quickly then grabbed the tissue beside the couch and started to wipe your face. He grabbed the bowl from you, putting it aside and wiping some of the milk that had spilled on you.

He then stood up and walked towards your kitchen, as if he owns the place. Next thing you know, he comes back with a glass of water in his hands.

"Thank you," you managed to blurt out in the middle of your coughing and drank the water.

"I thought you didn't have a gag reflex the way you sucked my dick earlier," Jaemin joked, earning a playful slap in his shoulder from you.

"Shut up, movies starting." Jaemin didn't give a single fuck about the movie playing on screen. Haechan's voice keeps ringing in his ear, and as much as he wanted to stay out of it and respect your privacy, something in him wants to know. Its like an itch wanting to be scratched.

"Tom Holland's like the perfect spiderm-- Jaemin?" The boy's trance was interrupted when you call his name. He didn't realize that he was staring off to nothing instead of watching the movie he picked.

"Yeah?" Jaemin blinked thrice before looking at you, your eyes peaked interest as you examined his face.

"You're out of it, what're you thinking?" You paused the movie, moving your body to fully face him.

Jaemin can't wait. He has to know. "Just curious, where did you say your last school is?" He hoped his question wasn't too obvious.

"I didn't say anything?" Okay, hold up. Plan backfired. Fuck!

"What? I-I swear you told me, like, last time? Sacre--"

"Sacred Heart. Yeah. And no, I didn't tell you about it." Like the many times, Jaemin was nervous. Again. You make him so.. unlike himself. What the fuck is it with you?

"Oh, wait, are you sure--"

"You heard about it, huh?" Jaemin couldn't tell if the smirk on your face was a good thing. He doesn't want to fuck this up, and he's starting to think he just did.

"I'm sorry, If you don't want to talk about it--"

"It's fine. It's not that bad. Hell, It could've earned so much if it was uploaded in a porn site, y'know? Stupid Mr. Nakamoto," You chuckled, nonchalantly turning your body towards the screen again, as if what you just said didn't just shocked Jaemin to the core.

The fact that you weren't bothered about it, and even sounded like you're bragging about it wasn't the main thing Jaemin was apalled by. "Mr. Nakamoto?"

You smiled, as if you were reminiscing, "He was my Biology teacher. Couldn't accept the fact that I'm leaving him so he went and blackmailed me with the video, but his phone got stolen and poof, it spread around like a wildfire. If you ask another person tho, they'd just say I spread it myself. You choose what you believe-- I don't really care." And you looked like it too. You did not care, because if you did, you wouldn't just tell all of this to Jaemin.

"Did anything happened to that assho-- Mr. Nakamoto?" Jaemin feels heated. He doesn't know why, but what he knows is he wants to suckerpunch whoever that Nakamoto is.

"Got his license removed, but you know what's even more fun?" You leaned onto him, your lips next to his ear and whispered, "His wife was so devastated her husband had to find someone younger to fuck, she filed for divorce the very next day."

And just like that, Jaemin was left speechless. Again.

---

"Jaem, someone's looking for you." Renjun tapped his friend's shoulder, pointing at the student standing on the door. Jaemin slowly opened his eyes, way too tired to even stand up, and looked who it was.

To his surprise, it was Yoon Jeonghan. He knew this would come sooner or later, since he had a.. thing with his sister for a while. But he never thought that Jeonghan cared, afterall, Jeonghan never talked to him about it.

But oh boy, was he wrong.

"Heard you're fooling around with y/n?" Jeonghan was serious. He wasn't looking at Jaemin, he's just staring ahead. His hands on his pocket, as Jaemin stood behind him, confused.

"Yeah? What about it?" He knew you and Jeonghan were friends, he often sees you with him. But why does this conversation feel more intense?

"And my sister already talked to you about it, right?" This time, Jeonghan looked at him.

"Yeah, she's being weird about it." Somehow, Jaemin wants this conversation to be about Jiho instead of you. He wishes Jeonghan was only after him because of his sister, because then, he knew what to do. But its you. Jaemin never know what to do with you.

"Because she's right. You should stay away from her, man. Just-- a friendly advice, alright?" Jaemin hated how Jeonghan sounded so sincere. What could be so awful about you that even this man, who he never even talked to, warned him about you?

"Dude, not to sound rude, but how the fuck does me fucking around with y/n, your business?" His voice slightly getting sharper, owing to the fact that he hated getting told what to do.

"You're a good man, Na. I'm sure there's more prettier-- even more fucking hotter girls than her. She's not..." Jeonghan paused, almost saying something he would regret, "... good for you. I've known her forever, and she's not the type to be with."

"I know you're older than me, and I mean this with utmost respect, you and your sister should mind your own business. I don't know what she did to you and Jiho, but she's fine. And we're not even together! We're just fooling around! Y'all are so dramatic." With that, Jaemin turned around and left Jeonghan. He sounded so unbothered by all of this, but in all honestly, he's starting to question if there's really a valid reason on why Jeonghan and Jiho was so sincere about you being apparently, a bad person.

The way you laugh at Jaemin, the way you smiled, you tell your stories, and everything Jaemin saw you do, you being a bad person doesn't make sense to him. Sure, you've done some fucked up things but Jaemin never cared about that. You showed him genuine happiness, and Jaemin could never see you in the light that Jeonghan and Jiho painted you out to be.

And just like clockwork, your name popped up in his screen. Just as if everything in the past fifteen minutes never happened, his steps became slightly faster as he grabbed his things. He couldn't be more excited to see you again.

---

"This is pretty." Jaemin pointed out a painting, whilst he dressed himself. You were also doing the same thing, but you looked at where he was pointing at.

It was your artwork from last year. The canvas was leaning beside your dresser, along with other canvasses that you never put up.

"Wonderstruck." you said. You were a bit appalled that Jaemin noticed the only work you were actually proud of. It wasn't even displayed in the front, it was almost entirely covered by unfinished canvasses.

"Wonderstruck? That's its name? It's really beautiful." Jaemin sounded sincere, he really found the painting pretty. It was a couple, sitting by a river on golden hour. Sky was the shade of orange and blue, nighttime seeking in but the sun's still there, laying real low. It was in a middle of a field, lavender flowers scattered around.

It was new to you, men showing interest on something more than your face and body. It sparked something in you, Jaemin knew that with the way you jumped out of your bed, biting your lip, hesitating for a second, "Want to show you something."

"What do you think?" You were standing beside your kitchen table, with a few printed photos of people Jaemin didn't know. It was all in black in white, and all of them showed genuine smiles.

"Cool. Who are they?" Jaemin was adjusting his belt as he scanned every picture. The way you're looking so innocent and fluffy, showing him your photo collection can fool a person into thinking you did not just have mindblowing sex minutes prior. Jaemin stifles a laugh.

You, in your overalls smiled so brightly at him, excited that Jaemin showed interest on your work. "They're random people I saw on the street." You were fidgety, kept on arranging the photos. Looking at Jaemin for any signs of validation. Jaemin thought you were so cute, but he never said it out loud.

"Is it for your project?" Now, Jaemin doesn't have a single clue about the Art department in his school, but he knew it's important for you, so he tried his best.

"No. I just did it." You took one picture and showed it to him upclose. "I just like to see people smiling, you know? There's just something so precious with asking people to smile for you. Because when they do, you can tell that they just feel.. pretty. And I like making people feel pretty." You were so caught up in explaining that you didn't notice how Jaemin was looking at you. And he was thankful you didn't see it.

The way his eyes just expressed a thousand strings of emotions he's afraid to show almost felt dangerous, he didn't want to get caught. But for a moment, he let it happen because he was sure you were focused on something else. All the while he was focused on you. Because while you were explaining how smiling makes people pretty, he was thinking that you didn't need to smile and he's already thinking that you were the most beautiful person he had ever laid his eyes on.

But before you could even looked at him, Jaemin quickly focused his gaze on the photo you were showing him. "That's cool. But I never knew you were into photography aswell. I thought you were into paintings only."

"I'm into art, Jaem. And art comes with different things. Although I like painting more, photography is my second favorite. Here, before you go," Swiftly, you grabbed your polaroid camera and stood beside Jaemin, putting your arms around his shoulder making you stand on your tippy toes, and angling the camera where it could capture you both. Jaemin was caught by surprise but he still managed to smile and pull you tighter.

As soon as the flash disappeared, you removed yourself from him and grabbed the film. "This one's for you, so you could remember who your best sex was." She winked at him and chuckled before going back to rearrange her photos.

Jaemin, on the other hand, his eyes never left your figure. He was in awe, he was amazed, and fuck it, he was wonderstruck. But most importantly, he was fucking scared.

---

The next thursday came, and surprisingly, you didn't call. Jaemin liked to think you were just busy, so he never reached out. There's still sunday, he thought. And even if you didn't reach out this sunday, its okay. It's not like you had to keep the schedule, right?

Besides, Jaemin was busy aswell. He's planning Jeno's birthday. Usually, Renjun and Haechan was the one assigned to planning parties, but Renjun was occupied and Haechan wasn't feeling it. They were still helping Jaemin, its just that Jaemin wanted to throw a party for his bestfriend this time. Also, to take his mind off of you for a bit.

If he wasn't busy and occupied with something, Jaemin might go insane thinking about where you are or why you haven't been calling him. So he initiated.

"How fucking long is your list, Jaemin?" Renjun couldn't believe how long he's been scrolling through Jaemin's list for the party invitations. Yet, he isn't surprised.

"You know you can just announce that you're throwing a party and literally everyone who knows you and Jeno will come, right?" Haechan, laying on the couch scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

"Nah, I don't want some weirdo showing up uninvited." Jaemin pointed out, but he left out another reason. He wanted to waste time on listing names just to get you out his mind even for a short time.

"Well don't forget about Jisung's best friend." Haechan smirked.

"Jeno's brother's bestfriend? That's weirdly specific, bro." Jaemin added, shrugging his shoulders. Still, he wrote it down.

"A little birdie told me that Jeno has a thing for his brother's bestfriend." Haechan chuckled, fixing his glasses.

"What? How come I never knew that?" Jaemin asked. He's Jeno's best friend and an information like this would surely come up. Yet its the first time he's heard of this.

"That's because you're so far up that mystery y/n girl's ass you're starting to look like anal beads, bro." Renjun winced at Haechan's choice of words, but then again, he's used to it.

"I'm not, dude. I'm here most of the time, aren't I?" Jaemin looked at Renjun for validation, but he just rolled his eyes at him.

"He's actually right, Jaemin. You're whipped." Renjun added, smirking.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm literally here in front of you guys, on a thursday, which I'm supposed to be with her-- but I'm not because she didn't call-- but also because I want to be with you ass--"

"The more you talk, the more you prove our point. You're fucking whipped, Na Jaemin." Haechan sat down properly, playfull shoving Jaemin to provoke him. Jaemin just hit Haechan's hands away but that didn't stop the boy from annoying him.

"Think of it, dude. You went through two months with her-- only her. Two months-- dude. That's fucking bizarre for you. It's either that pussy was gold, or-- just like what we're saying, your ass is whipped." Haechan was pissing Jaemin off, not because he doesn't agree, its because he does. And admitting that would just fuck up everything you two have.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You guys are tripping, big time. I'm not whipped." Lies tasted bitter in his mouth. He might just be whipped.

He walked out of their hangout room, and just as he opened the door, his eyes widen. You were there, standing with your messy bun, clueless eyes and a box in your hand.

"H-hey?" Jaemin was caught offguard, as he closed the door behind him.

"That room looks like it stinks."

Jaemin chuckled, it does. "Mostly of weed and old furniture. What's up?"

"I,- uh, baked some cookies. Just-- y'know, wanted you to have some." You awkwardly raised your box of cookies to present them to Jaemin, and it takes so much of him not to melt on the spot.

"Thank you," Jaemin resisted the urge to call you 'baby', mostly because he didn't know if he was allowed to do it outside your apartment.

"Tell you what-- why don't we eat it together?" Jaemin.

"I'm free until 4:30?"

"Cool, we can go to the garden, there's barely any student there."

Jaemin smiled and grabbed you by your wrist. "But I know a much more cooler place."

"Really? Where?" Jaemin stopped, and it was your turn to hold him by the wrist.

Jaemin didn't ask, he just let you drag him anywhere. You could take him to a lion's den, he wouldn't care. Anywhere is fine with him as long as you're there.

After climbing on a flight of stairs, Jaemin noticed that you two ended up on Art department building's rooftop.

He hasn't been in here, and it was.. interesting. It looks like any other rooftop, messy and full of unused class chairs, except there was a spot where there's an old couch, just like what they have on their hangout spot. There's a random mini refrigerator and a lamp-- thats it.

"This is my super secret place. Be greatful I let you in here." You squinted your eyes at Jaemin as you patted the seat beside you, basically asking him to sit.

Jaemin did so, and looked ahead. He can see the entire school campus in here.

"This is pretty." He whispered.

"Much better than your stinky room, huh?" You bragged, opening a can of cola that you have on the mini fridge.

"Hey, how come you have that? We requested to have one but the stupid school didn't let us."

"Oh, this little guy? Johnny helped me with it." You smirked, tapping the blue mini fridge.

"Johnny?" A new name in Jaemin's books. Who's Johnny?

"Nurse Suh? His name is Johnny Suh, you didn't know?"

"I didn't." His vibe went a bit south, but he didn't let that spoil your moment together. It was rare for you to approach him in school, and he wanted to have that moment.

"This is good, damn." Jaemin munched on the cookies you got for him and it was honestly tasty. Better than any other cookies he had before, or maybe he was biased and his judgement was greatly affected by the fact that you made it. Eitherway, the cookies are delicious.

"I only made one batch and even that was too much for me. I wanted to give some out but.." you paused. "Funny, you're the only one I had in mind."

"Nurse Suh?" Jaemin didn't even know why he brought the guy up again, but he did.

"Nah, we don't do that." You smiled.

"And we do?" A tinge of hope sparked in Jaemin, that maybe he had some difference between him and Nurse Suh. Maybe you do treat him more special. A guy can dream, can't he?

"Sure, we do. I mean, I can't just throw away this exceptionally good tasting cookies, can't I? And you're the only one I have right now.. so."

Jaemin was enthusiastic. He felt like he won something. He can't help but smile even more, but also, he felt bad. When you said he was the only one you have, he thought about Jiho and Jeonghan.

"What about the Yoon siblings?"

You let out a humourless chuckle, more like a scoff. "Jiho doesn't talk to me anymore and Jeonghan.. well. It's complicated."

"I swear I just saw you two eating at the cafeteria." Heck, that's how he found out about you. Because you were sitting at the cafeteria beside Jeonghan.

"He just sat with me because he felt bad I was eating alone. Also I barely go down there to eat-- so he kinda just.. I don't know. Let's not talk about them anymore, Jaem."

---

"Look at me, baby." Jaemin whispered, softly grabbing your jaw to turn your head towards him. He has you on your side, holding your right thigh up as he slowy thrust. He can see that you're near, and damn, he can feel it too.

"J-jaem.." You start shaking, as your entire body give out. Looking into his eyes, his own pleasure wasn't on the table anymore, he just wants you to feel good. He can safely say that you are indeed the prettiest when you cum, and he's glad he can see you this way.

"That's right, sweetheart. Let go for me, will you?" This was very different on how you usually do it with him. You were usually intense, rough and fast, but something about tonight feels more... passionate. Jaemin never went any faster than his current tempo, yet he still hits every spot. Slow and deep, while he looks at your face, admiring the beauty he's glad he had the priviledge to see.

"Kiss me, Jaemin." You didn't even have to ask twice, Jaemin already dipped his head lower to reach your lips, tasting you while your walls tightens, your whimpers covered by his own lips, you just came.

Once Jaemin pulls away, he pulls a few strings of hair strands away your face to see you. Your eyes glistening, and not long when you let a tear drop. Jaemin could never wish for anything more than this.

"You're so beautiful, y/n." He whispered, more to himself, than to you.

"Thank you." You softly answered, smiling at him and giving him another kiss. Jaemin then let go of your thigh, instead wrapping his arms on your waist. It seems like you got the idea that he's near his climax so you positioned yourself in a way that he gets more of you, sticking your backside out more thus facing away from him.

"No, no, princess keep looking at me." Jaemin whispered and you followed, facing him again.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" You asked sensually. His thrust slightly getting deeper, but never faster. His eyes went back and forth with both of your eyes as he nodded.

"For you, my love." He mumbled. His jaw slightly ajar, brows furrowed as he let out a deep moan, abruptly staying still and you felt his release warming up your walls.

"You did so good, Jaemin. So, so good." Your compliments just adds to his pleasure. Shivers ran down his spine, he manages to calm himself after his intense climax.

"You're so good to me. I lik--" Before Jaemin finishes, you pulled away from him.

"I'm taking a piss." You said, forcing yourself to stand up and walk your way to the bathroom.

And just like how he felt so good seconds before, it suddenly got washed away with the feeling of dismay. He can't believe he just attempted to say that. Fuck. Running his hands on his face, he mentally curses himself for being wreckless.

You were still in the bathroom when Jaemin heard a few knocks. He's confused, grabbing his phone to look at the time.

9:47pm. Who could visit you at this time?

He grabbed his boxers and quickly putting it on, as well as his shirt but he didn't bother to make himself presentable. He opened the door and his eyes widen.

"Nurse Suh?" He eyed the tall man, and the guy eyed him too. Both of them are confused as to why the other is standing where they are.

"Na Jaemin? What the hell are you doing here?" Johnny wasn't even sure why he was asking that, it's clear with Jaemin's shuffled hair and obviously--- him in his boxers.

"I'm sure you know the answer to that." Jaemin sounded rude, but he does not give a shit. Nurse Suh poses as a threat to him and your-- uh, situationship -- and Jaemin doesn't have a reason to be nice to him.

"Where is she?" Johnny's voice was full of concern, as he looked past the younger boy just to get a glimpse inside your apartment. That's until Jaemin steps outside, and closing the door behind him.

"What do you want from her?" Jaemin looks at him, and although the guy was taller and has a bigger built, again, he doesn't care.

"I'm sure you know the answer to that." Johnny's tone and him mocking Jaemin pissed him more. Letting out a huge breath, Jaemin looked at him straight in the eyes.

"You know-- you're whole relationship with her is fucked up, right?" Johnny was surprised on how Jaemin just turned off the calm facade. He didn't expect him to be triggered like this

"What relationship? You out of all people should know she doesn't do relationsh--"

"Yeah, whatever. You can't fuck around with her anymore, man. You're a fucking school staff, and she's a student. Also, you have a fucking girlfriend. I don't know how you're okay with this."

"The same way she's okay with it. Look, kid," Johnny closed his eyes and massaged his temples, he continued. "... me and her, we've been through some shit. Shit that you can't handle. But I know.. man, you care for her. And I don't want to hear your bullshit, you do care for her. And I do too. But she's not the kind to be with, y'know? She's gonna ruin--"

"Fuck! You weren't the only one who fucking told me that. I don't know what she did to you, but she's fine with me. If you think of her as this fucking tragedy on legs, then maybe you don't really care, don't you? But I do. So get off my fucking ass and don't see her again. Or I'm gonna have to report you." Jaemin didn't know where all of his words came from, but it did feel good. He doesn't think about the consequences of everything, but one thing's for sure. He's not gonna let anyone talk shit about you anymore.

Johnny, tho, never flinched. Instead, he smirks and even let out a chuckle. "You've got some nerves, kid. Okay. I'll back off. But don't come running back when she breaks you." he then turned around and got ready to leave, but a few steps in, he turned to Jaemin again.

"...oh, and tell her Happy birthday."

Jaemin stood there for a minute, watching Johnny leave. It's your birthday? How come you never said anything?

After a few deep breaths, he went inside the apartment again. Just in time when you walked out the bathroom, hair all wet and with a set of new pajamas.

"You done?" Jaemin approached with a smile.

"Yeah. You wanna take a shower?" You looked up at him. He shook his head as he patted your head. "You hungry?" he asked.

You smiled even more, looking up at him expectantly, "Please?"

"Okay. I'll go get us some food, alright? You don't worry your pretty little head." Jaemin gave you a kiss on the top of your head before getting his pants and keys, walking out of the apartment.

Not even half an hour, Jaemin came back. Not only with takeout, but also a bento box. You looked at him kind of confused on what it is, but when he opened it, your eyes widen. It was a small cake that he bought on the convenience store. He wanted a much more expensive one but he also wants to get back to you as soon as possible.

He then pulled out a small candle, sticking it onto the cake. Pulling out a newly bought lighter, and lighting the candle. "Happy birthday, princess. Make a wish." He smiles softly at you.

When all of this was happening, you didn't say a thing. You just looked at him with your glassy eyes, your mouth slightly apart. You blinked hard and fast before finally tracing back to yourself, "I'm.. how did you know?" you asked.

"Doesn't matter. Now come on, candle's burning out." Thats when you looked down on the candle, quickly closing your eyes, clasping your hands together as you thought hard about what you're wishing. Seconds after, you opened your eyes and blew on the candle.

Jaemin was still smiling, setting the small cake aside to give you a kiss on your forehead. He was surprised when your arms wrapped around his waist.

"Why do you have to make me so happy, Jaem? You make it so hard. So hard." You whispered, but Jaemin heard everything. He desparately wanted to answer, because he had an answer. And its something he's afraid to tell you. Because the result was uncertain. Its either it goes perfectly well, or he lose you. And he's not gonna take that risk.

So instead, he just returned your embrace, but even more tighter, giving you another kiss on your forehead. "I don't know." he answered quietly, lying to you and to himself.

"You're a good person, Jaem. Anyone would be lucky to have you." Your vulnerable voice made Jaemin feel warm. In a way, you sounded truthful. You felt genuine.

"You're lucky, then." Slowly, Jaemin. Lay it on her slowly.

"I can't have you." Your bitter smile showed.

"Why not?" Every second counted, every breath you take suddenly mattered.

"I can't do that to you," With a shaking voice, you buried your face in his chest even more.

"I don't understa--"

"Just shut up, shut the fuck up and let me have this." And with that, Jaemin never muttered another word. Instead, he just held you closer like this was the last time he gets to do so.

"Jaem?" You looked up at him, Jaemin looked dow n at you with his eyebrows up.

"I'm sorry." You said. And Jaemin didn't want to ask why you were apologizing, he doesn't like to know the reason behind it. Because he doesn't want you to give him a reason why he needs to forgive you about something.

---

"I think I'm inlove with her."

"Ya think?" Jeno, deep inside his phone, seems like he's stressed about something. Never minding his best friend's struggle, because everybody already knew Jaemin was inlove with you. It's not new information.

"Fuck! Shit!" Both their heads turn as they saw Renjun ran inside their hangout spot and closed the door.

"Hell is wrong with you?" Jaemin asked, but Renjun ignored him and proceeds to lock the door.

"Why's everybody so weird today?" Jaemin mumbled.

It is a very weird day for Jaemin. Somehow, he feels like something's not right. Well, yeah, his undying love for you was one thing he was stressed about but there's more, today's not like every other day, he thought.

That goes on for the rest of his morning. Its like he's waiting on something to happen, like everybody was so tense. You didn't text or call either, which was feeding onto Jaemin's paranoia. It's not like he's being clingy, but he's genuinely feeling something unsettling in his chest.

Maybe it was the coffee he had this morning, or maybe the fact that he's never had this dilemma about a girl before.

So, finally giving up his pride, he texted you.

4:50pm jaemin: wya

4:52pm jaemin: heyy

4:58pm jaemin: ??

You not answering definitely did not help. So, the next big thing he can come up with was go to your apartment. Not a smart choice but Jaemin never once claimed to be smart.

Once he took a step towards your door, for a moment. Jaemin regretted going here. He can see that your lights are on, and can hear shuffling inside. But fuck it, he's already here.

He thought you had someone over, maybe Johnny, or someone else. That made him heated. But the closer he was on your front door, he heard yelling-- and another voice, which he could tell was from a girl.

The door was ajar-- and once he was right infront of it, he could hear everything.

"Y/N! Please! Not him-- he's a good person. You know that!" He confirmed that it was Jiho who was arguing with you.

"I don't care what you feel, Jiho. Get the fuck out of my apartment!"

"Leave Jaemin alone--" Once Jaemin heard his name, his feet froze on the spot.

"Why the fuck are you so nosy? Is it because I stole your little Na Jaemin? Then go ahead! Get him back! But, oh-- newsflash, he doesn't want you anymore. Washed up and used--" The sound of a slap made Jaemin finally interfere. He walked up inside your apartment and saw you holding your cheek and Jiho crying. Both of them looked at him shocked.

"What are you doing here?" Jiho was the first one to speak, but Jaemin's eyes were focused on you.

"Did you just hurt her?" Jaemin was angry. The sight of your cheeks red and the fact that he knows Jiho just slapped you didn't sit right with him.

"Didn't you heard what she said?! Didn't you fucking understand what kind of person she is?" Jiho cried even more, she couldn't believe that someone as sweet as Jaemin would side with the most vile person she knows.

"Doesn't give you the right to hurt her." Jaemin threw all his principles away at this point. He doesn't care anymore.

"You're poisoning his mind, Y/N!" Jiho shouted, which you just smirked at her. Jaemin can't find the warmth inside your eyes, he just saw something empty.

"I didn't do shit, Jiho. Maybe you should just learn how to get out of my fucking trail. Or should I do something? Should I break your brother's heart for the second time?" Jaemin didn't know this version of you. Its like you've thrown away every emotion you have just to spite everyone.

"Don't you fucking dare." Jiho attempted to step towards you again but Jaemin put himself in between you and Jiho.

"Just go, Jiho." Jaemin calmly said.

Jiho didn't say anything, and let out a huge puff before walking out of the apartment, sobbing. She slammed the door shut and quickly the room went silent. None of you dared to talk for the first couple of minutes.

"I didn't want you here," you started.

Jaemin didn't say anything, instead, picking up some things that fell on the floor, trying to fix the apartment. Your paint brushes, your keys, and even some of your photos were on the floor. Must've been a very intense argument.

"Did you hear me, Jaemin? I don't want you here!" your voice strained, Jaemin pretended not to hear you as he continue to clean up the mess.

"Are you hungry? Want me to get you dinner?" Jaemin's voice was as normal as it can be. It doesn't make sense to you. But everything in this situation doesn't make sense.

Jaemin should be mad. Jaemin should go and leave you. Jaemin wasn't supposed to stay.

"Whatever-- do what you want. I'm going to bed."

Jaemin likes to think that in a couple of hours, you'll come up and be in a great mood. Sun shining and all that corny shit. Jaemin was also overly enthusiastic, one that masks with the real thing he's feeling right now. Nervous. Worried.

For a couple of days. Jaemin tried his best to get you out of your apartment because remember, you two are students. You were supposed to go to school. But you never left your bed. And for the first few days, Jaemin didn't go to school too. He was in your apartment day and night, looking after you. This wasn't like you before, Jaemin swears its like you're a whole new different person.

You didn't talk, didn't want to get up, and he knows damn well you aren't sleeping for the past days. You just layed there, emotionless.

He didn't know why he was doing this. You weren't you anymore and Jaemin doesn't know who he was even taking care of anymore. But he's still here. He's still with you.

The third day went and Jaemin is still in your apartment. Ignoring his friends-- and shit, even his mom. He doesn't want them to know why he's MIA for the past few days. He doesn't want everyone to know yours and his business. Whatever happenes between you two, stays between you two.

Jaemin woke up with you sitting on the kitchen. Eyes staring at nowhere, hair dishevelled and bags under your eyes forming.

"Goodmorning," Jaemin said in his sweet voice, careful not to scare you.

"I don't know how many times I should tell you this, but you should go, Jaemin. While I'm being nice." Even your voice sounds like a stranger. The pinch of joy that used to come with your voice were no longer there.

"I will, but I need to make sure you're fine---"

"I'm fine! I don't fucking need you here!" You yelled, Jaemin flinched but still remained calm.

"Are you hungry--"

"Maybe you've become dumb and stupid that you can't comprehend a simple fucking sentence, huh? I'm done with you, Jaemin. I'm sorry but you're useless to me now. I need a new face around here and yours is--"

"You really want me to leave?" Jaemin sincerely asked, like he was tired. Your eyes lifted, and you nodded.

"Yes." Jaemin's lips formed a thin line, his jaw clenched.

"Fine." He calmly walked away-- and convinced he can't take it anymore. He was tired mentally, emotionally and physically. You didn't want to be helped and Jaemin knew he can't handle you.

But as soon as the door shut behind him, his feet stood frozen as he waited. And not even a couple of minutes, the sound of your sobbing on the other side of the door made Jaemin turn his steps.

He was tired, but not fatigued. He knew he couldn't handle you but he can try. You didn't want to be helped but maybe tomorrow you change your mind. And maybe, just maybe, he can take another day.

"Breakfast, y/n. Come on." Jaemin, the fourth day. He went home for a bit, took a shower, but quickly went back to your place. And in his surprise, you were out of bed.

He can hear the faucet running, so he knew you were in the bathroom.

A few moments later, he heard you coming out of the shower. And there you are, hair all wet, freshen up after a few dreadful days and Jaemin was starting to see the color coming back in your skin.

"You feeling better, baby?" He softly asked.

"What are you still doing here?"

Jaemin didn't say anything, instead, giving you the most precious smile he had. "Come on, I cooked pancakes."

"Jaemin, get out. We're done, Jaemin. Get the fuck out!" Tears started forming again in your newly healed eyes, as you pointed out the door.

"I'm not leaving you, y/n." Finally, Jaemin acknowledged the situation.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, huh? When I say we're done, we're done, Jaemin. Can't get that through your thick head?" Words spew like venom, Jaemin starting to feel like he's staring at a stranger. Who is this person in front of him?

"I know you're upset and you haven't eaten a proper meal in days--"

"The fuck do you care?" And with that, you ticked something off from Jaemin.

"Fuck do I care?! Y/N, you've pushed everyone around you away and I was the one who stayed! For days I didn't go anywhere and stayed with you, y/n. Do I care?! Because even if I don't know what the fuck is going on with you I still fucking stayed! So yeah, I'd like to think that I care for you because I fucking lo-- shit!" Jaemin caught himself before actually saying the thing. He knows its a deal breaker if he said it but hopefully, you already felt it.

"Did I ask you to do all of that shit?"

Jaemin can almost feel his heart shatter. You really didn't care about him, or his feelings. He had a little bit of hope. And with a single sentence, you destroyed it.

Jaemin let out a humourless chuckle. "Fine. We're fucking done, y/n."

---

It's been a week and Jaemin's friends started to worry. Jaemin barely ate-- didn't attend his classes and barely got out of their hangout spot. Jeno had a call with his mom and told him that Jaemin didn't once contact them in almost a month. And thats where Jeno knew something was wrong. Jaemin loved his mom-- and he would never ghost her.

"Man, I don't know what to do. He just flicked me off when I offered him ramen." Haechan was serious. You barely see him being this concerned-- but even him, knows something was wrong with Jaemin.

"Is it about that y/n girl?" Renjun asked.

"Probably. I mean, eversince she came into the picture Jaemin basically became a different person." Jeno haven't met you yet, but this, what you're doing to his bestfriend definitely isn't giving a good impression.

"Maybe they're done. If Jaemin's looking like this and haven't mentioned a single thing about her, I think that's what this is." Renjun said, looking at his friend, and his sleeping figure.

"I have an idea." Haechan stood up and huddled his friends, but Jeno and Renjun stepped away. "No, Haechan, you don't."

"What? At least I'm trying to help our friend!" He grabbed both of his friends again, "Anyways-- we should introduce him to another girl. Get him back in the game, y'know?"

"What are we talking about?" The three of them almost jumped when Jaemin was suddenly huddled with them.

"Nothing! We're just thinking about how much booze we're buying for Jeno's party." Haechan's quick wits came into action but Jaemin didn't buy it.

"Stop being weird." He casually walked back to the sofa and plopped himself down again.

Jeno tho, had enough. "You're weird! What the fuck is with this act, bro? You look lovesick or some shit."

"m not doing anything, the fuck are you on about?" Jeno got even more pissed, because Jaemin was blatantly lying.

"That girl you're with is causing trouble, dude. You're barely going to class, we haven't seen you in days, you didn't call your mom in a week and just for her to fuck with the school nurse?" Jeno's still calm, not wanting to escalate the situation. But he figured that Jaemin needs to hear it one way of another.

Jaemin was visibly confused. What did Jeno mean about you with nurse suh? Didn't he already dealt with that?

"Saw her yesterday at the nearby convenience store with Nurse Suh. I don't know, dude but she's not worth all this shit. And I don't even wanna talk about the stuff I heard about her previous school, man." Haechan was a little hesitant about confronting Jaemin, but since Jeno has already started it he's got no choice but to just say it.

"You're out of your mind if you think you have the right to say all that shit. You don't even know her." Every word that Jaemin says was delivered with so much intensity, even the boys were starting to feel uneasy.

"We're just confused Jaem, eversince you met that y/n girl its like you became a whole new perso--" Renjun was cut off when Jaemin let out a scoff.

"Okay, I see what's going on here. If we're airing out our business here then let me have my fucking turn." Jaemin stepped towards Jeno, "You, aren't you shagging your lil bro's bestfriend? Yeah? Guess what, so is half the school."

"Hey, the hell? What's wrong with you, man?" Haechan interfered. He knew the look that Jeno has right now was serious, and he also knew that if he didn't get in between them, chaos will ensue. So he quickly stepped beside Jeno.

"What the fuck do you know about me and her, Renjun? I minded my own business when you went out with your girl out of pity." Jaemin doesn't know where that came from, but it already went out his lips. He wasn't the one to say things like that but somehow it came out. Renjun was fazed, to say the least.

"And you--" Jaemin let out an sigh and smirked, slowly turning towards Haechan. "You talk high and mighty but everybody knows you're a fucking cheater, Lee Haechan. So you, especially you, doesn't have the right to even mutter a thing about her. Because if we're talking about being an asshole, you take the fucking throne." Jaemin's eyes are empty, and so his mind. He just wanted to say anything to get back at his friends without thinking.

"Fuck you, man. Seriously. All this for that girl? You look fucking pathetic, Na Jaemin." Jeno was aggravated and fuming, but he was never gonna go down with violence, specially with his best friend. He knew better.

"It doesn't even fucking matter what you think about her anymore, cuz y'know what? We're done. She doesn't wanna see me anymore. So go ahead and talk shit about her but make sure I'm not in the fucking room next time." The room was silent, they didn't know what to say. Obviously because this was the first time they saw Jaemin like this.

"I think this shit got out of hand, I know you're upset but we're just genuinely concerned, dude." Renjun, now on the much calmer side, tries to difuse the situation.

"Okay, I'm just gonna ignore what you said because I know you're upset, Jaemin. But come on, man, you've met her what? For two months? And you're already losing yourself? I swear if this could be any other girl I wouldn't say anything but man.. she's only trouble. And you can get angry at us all you want but I'm glad you got out of that situation." This side of Haechan was rarely seen, because it only comes out when they need it the most. And for Jaemin, its also rare that he agrees with Haechan but this time, he did.

For the next week, Jaemin tried to bring himself back, and his friends noticed it too. He became active again, going to parties with them and even got back to planning on Jeno's birthday party. There was no sign of you, your name or your presence. Jaemin was starting his old ways again, meeting some girls here and there.

"Hey, what did I tell ya, huh? She's great, isn't she?" Haechan grinned at him, as they walked together.

"Nah, I've had better." Jaemin non-chalantly said.

Haechan looked at his friend, smile slowly getting bigger. "There's the asshole I know, glad you're back to the game, man!" Haechan with his proudest smile, shook Jaemin playfully and but the boy did nothing but chuckle.

His friends were satisfied and pretty much convinced that you were completely out of Jaemin's system. To see Jaemin go back to whatever he was before you, definitely brought back the Jaemin they knew.

"Happy birthday, man! Whew, how does it feel to be an old hag?" Haechan joked as he hugged Jeno, Jeno just playfully pushed him away.

The music was loud and people were starting to fill up Jeno's house. It's his parent's house and they were out of town, as per Jeno's request on his birthday. No one wants to party with their parents, ofcourse.

To say that Jaemin pulled off the party planning was an understatement. It was only 8pm and the party is already packed. Jaemin really outdid himself on this one, also with a little help from Haechan and Renjun.

"Happy birthday, Lee! This party is fucking lit, dude!" Yangyang, from engineering department went and greeted Jeno. "We've got Jaemin to thank for that." Jeno responded loudly, trying to communicate among the loud music.

"Yeah-- where's Na?" Yangyang asked, and Jeno was clueless as him. He knew Jaemin was in the house, he saw him earlier. But after that he never saw him again.

His eyes went around the room to find atleast Haechan or Renjun, and he only found Renjun on the side, in his phone. "He's around, somewhere." Jeno answered, bidding goodbye to the friend and walked across the room to approach Renjun.

"Where's Jaemin?" Jeno managed to ask.

"Upstairs with the girl Haechan introduced him to!" Renjun wiggled his eyebrows at Jeno, and Jeno nodded in agreement. At least he knew Jaemin was having fun.

Little did they know, Jaemin wasn't having fun.

"Come on, Jaemin.. how long does it take?" The girl whispered sexually, kissing his neck like its her last meal.

"Just.. don't talk." Usually it doesn't take Jaemin this long to get hard, but the girl just doesn't do it for him. Its been almost thirty minutes and Jaemin is getting tired, but he also doesn't want to disappoint, so he tries his best to focus on the girl, but he just couldn't.

His phone constantly vibrating doesn't help, so he grabbed it and threw it on the other side of the bed.

Jaemin closed his eyes, felt every single touch and did the worst thing he could ever do to himself. He imagined it was you.

You were touching him, kissing him and giving him warmth. It's you he's with, not this girl, not any girl. Its you. And it worked. It brought back memories of you that sparked something in his body. Small waves of pleasure started. And just as he's slowly starting to function, he heard the door open.

Jaemin's back was facing the door but the girl on his lap can see who just entered. The little mindgames in his head was interupted when the sound of the door brought him back to reality.

"What the fuck? This room is occupied!" The girl with him yelled, completely destroying the fantasy Jaemin created in his head. He's back to square one again, and this time he's not trying again.

As soon as the intruder left, Jaemin lifted the girl off his lap. "Sorry, Cindy, bab--" he can't even call her 'baby'. "--but you need to go."

Jaemin didn't wait for her answer and left her on the bed while he walked and locked himself on the bathroom.

As soon as he knew that the girl had officially left, that's when he went out to his room again. His hands finding his phone, he checked what time it is. 9pm.

Jaemin brushed his hands through his hair, frustrated and strssed.

He ignored the multiple chat that Jeno and Renjun had sent, and went to an food delivery app instead.

Delivery Status: Successful

Items: 1 Full Steak Meal with Pineapple Juice and NY Cheesecake

Total: 80,000krw

Notes: Don't skip a meal :) -J

Jaemin has been sending food to your place for the past week. In exactly 9pm, when he knew you'd usually have your dinner.

The next morning, he woke up fine. He didn't really drink much so he didn't have any sort of headaches or symptoms of a bad hangover.

The house was eerily quiet, as usual, the morning after a very big party.

He was the first to wake up and the whole house was trashed. He didn't expect anything else, ofcourse seeing the amount of people last night.

He knew all four of them was still in the house tho, maybe a couple of girls, so as the designated sober person he took the initiative to prepare breakfast. It was calming for Jaemin to take care of people.

Not long after he heard a couple of footsteps, and of course, it was Renjun.

"Mornin'" Renjun, hair sticking out everywhere, still in his clothes from last night.

"Had fun last night?" Jaemin asked, smirking.

"Didn't you read the texts I sent you last night?" Renjun asked. Jaemin's smirk disappeared.

"What text?"

"Jeno wouldn't want me to tell you this but... she was here. She was looking for you but Jeno and I didn't tell her where you were. She knew that you were here because she told us you invited her a while ago, she looks so.. tired. And then she asked Jisung, who doesn't have a clue with the whole y/n situation so he told her that you were upstairs." Renjun thought that Jaemin needed to know what happened. Jeno thought otherwise.

Jaemin felt his blood drain out of his body. He remembered someone knocking and opening the door to where he was with a girl last night, but he didn't know who it was. Jaemin's heart was racing. He was sure it was you. And he was also sure how fucked up it is to find him like that.

Jaemin didn't say anything, grabbing his keys as he left Renjun thinking if he made the right decision.

"Y/n! Y/n!" Jaemin was knocking on your door with urgency, and after a few, the door opened.

You were there. Standing in front of him but why can't Jaemin find any familiarity?

You were so different. You've lost weight. You're not you-- yet his heart still beats the same. His eyes still found warmth as you looked at him. The smile that left no trace on your face still lingered around Jaemin's memories and for that he still knows that somehow, you're still you.

"Hey." You whispered. You sounded weak.

Jaemin was about to hug you-- confront you about last night but once his eyes left the beauty that is your face, his heart skipped a beat. His body froze, he felt like time stopped.

Your shirt. Your fucking shirt. You're wearing a faded out starwars shirt.

"W-what are you wearing?"

"Oh this? Ah, right! Tell Haechan thank you for last night-" You smiled, the sweetest smile that Jaemin once loved, was now stabbing him in the chest.

"Don't..-- Why are you-- I don't understand.." Jaemin finally broke down, eyes letting go of the tears he held. You're breaking him down-- you're ruining him.

"What? You thought I was better?"

"Y/n.. don't do this to me.." Jaemin whispered. Knees giving out, yet he remained still.

"I don't know what to tell you, Jaemin. I'm everything they told you I would be."

"You're just.. cruel. My friend, y/n? My fucking friend?" In contrast with his cursing, his tone wasn't angry. It was despair.

"Will you leave me now?"

"Did you.. did you sleep with him?" Stupid question.

"I don't know, Jaemin. Did I?"

"You're.. fuck, y/n you're just cruel. Cruel and fucking unfair. Whatever did I do to you?" His voice strained. Drip-drop.

"Do you finally hate me?" Drip-drop.

Drip-drop.

Drip...drop.

"Yeah.. yeah I think I do."

And there it was. The last drop of Jaemin's feelings for you. Congratulations, y/n. You've finally drained him out of love.

---

Three days, Jaemin went off the grid. He stayed with his mom, giving himself a break.

He didn't want to contact any of his friends. At least not for now. He knew he still had that pent up anger towards Haechan, and he don't want to do anything that would result in him being violent. He knew that it was all your plan, just to get him to leave you alone.

What he couldn't understand is why Haechan did it. Haechan knew what Jaemin felt for you, like shit, he knew before Jaemin even knew for himself. He was one of the people who made Jaemin realize his feelings for you.

He wished he had listened to everybody and just left you alone. He wished he took everyone's advice and minded his own business. Maybe all of this wouldn't have happened.

Eventually he had to comeback. His school isn't very much happy with him and its not like its the end of the world. Everything is moving on but him, and nobody likes to be left behind.

As soon as his friends saw him, Haechan froze. He quickly tried and approached Jaemin. "Dude. Where were you? Everybody was looking for you--"

"Don't touch me, Lee Haechan." Jaemin wasn't angry, but he wasn't calm either. His tone is strong and firm, enough to stop Haechan from his tracks.

"Is this about Jeno's birthday?" Jaemin wanted to punch Haechan for even bringing it up. How could he?

"I swear to God if you don't step back--"

"What the hell is wrong with you, Jaemin?" Renjun was the one to interfere this time.

"What's wrong with me? This fucker slept with y/n and you're asking me what's wrong with me, Huang?!"

"Hold up-- hold the fuck up, What do you mean?" Jeno, eyes going back and forth between Haechan and Jaemin.

"She told you we slept together?" Haechan was legitamately confused.

"She was wearing your ugly ass shirt, Haechan."

"Yeah because I lent it to her? She was at the party and I accidentally bumped into her and she got alcohol spilled all over her shirt, Jaemin. So I had to fucking give her a shirt and then she ran away right after. You think I'd do that to you?!" Haechan was fully arguing with him now but Jaemin had remained silent.

Then why did you let him think that you did it? Why would you put him through this? Are you that desparate to make Jaemin hate you?

Jaemin brushed his palm all over his face. He was dumbfounded. He then plops down on the couch, deliberately thinking about the past few days he spent trying to get you off his head. And he thought he was damn near on succeeding, but the sudden information struck him down again.

And just as the tension was slowly coming down, a sudden intrusion on their room made the four of them look at the door.

"He's here? Na Jaemin!" Jiho burst through the door, passing through the three boys who were too caught in the moment to stop her.

"J-Jiho.." Jaemin stood up again, as Jiho stood in front of him.

"What did you do?!" Jiho was frustrated and angry, to say the least.

"Let's calm down," Renjun, the forever pacifist meekly attempted to delute the situation in hand.

"No! I told you, Jaemin! We told you to stay away from her!" Jiho.

"Are you blaming him? Your friend is a pathological liar who likes to play with peopl--" Jiho angrily turned towards Jeno, making the boy stop his rant.

"You're not part of this." Jiho then looked at Jaemin again.

"We're done, Jiho. I don't want her anymore. I don't want anything to do with her--"

Jiho smirked, "She left, Jaemin. She pulled out of school."

The room filled with silence, and it was so loud. Nobody wanted to say anything, partly because they were waiting for Jaemin to react.

"She-- what?" Jaemin was shocked. His body didn't know how to react. Every bones started to feel loose, it was so eerily quiet that it feels like he can count the seconds it takes for his heart to beat again.

Jiho's tears started to flow. "She was sober for six months, you know? We thought we finally fixed her-- she was doing fine. And then you-- you just had to come in and ruin everything."

"I don't underst--"

"I don't want to blame it all on you, because I know you're also hurt-- but Jaemin we begged you to stay away from her. But you didn't. You--" Jiho sat down, hands on her face, shoulders shaking.

"S-she--" Jaemin couldn't form a sentence.

"Where were you? In the past three days, Jaemin, where were you?" Jiho took a sharp breath, raising her head and looked at Jaemin once again.

"I was at my mom's..." Jaemin answered meekly.

"I found out last Thursday. When you saw us fighting at her apartment, that was when I caught her doing drugs. I was trying to--, fuck, I was trying to throw it away and then she got angry and started to talk about you. I guess she felt that you were by the door and started to talk about you.." Jaemin remembers that clear as day. The day you visibly changed right in front of his eyes.

"She left Sacred Heart last year because of the scandal. It hit her so bad, and that's when it started. She was introduced to drugs and later diagnosed with bipolar disorder. Me and Jeonghan knew her from our childhood and we did our best to help her. And then she went out with Jeonghan and that's when our falling apart happened. She broke my brother's heart and I can't even blame her because I know she only did it because she wants everyone to leave her. She thinks she's a burden to everybody. And then Nurse Suh came into the picture and helped her to get free medication, and when she did, eventually her addiction stopped. And then you happened, and for a while she was so happy. But suddenly Nurse Suh cut her off and the medication stopped. That's why she drove you away, Jaemin. You know what she told Jeonghan before she left? She said that you didn't deserve to be with her."

"She can't leave, did you check the apartment?" Denial. Jaemin can't process everything yet. He doesn't want to.

"Her stuff's out of the apartment. We found this," Jiho pulled out a polaroid picture. Jiho reached out to Jaemin, swiftly before letting go of the photo.

"She's a good person, Jaemin. She's just broken. I know you did your best, but we can't help a person who doesn't want to be helped. I just hope you don't hate her forever." Jiho then walked away.

Jeno, Haechan and Renjun was silent. They didn't say anything, not to disturb their friend's moment of silence. One by one, the left the room, leaving Jaemin and a photo that had a glimpse of a moment where you were once his.

It was the picture of you and Jaemin. Happily smiling. Upon seeing the photo, Jaemin finally broke down.

At the back, there was something written.

Hi, Jaem. Thank you for the food you've been sending! Although I didn't eat it, I still know that it's delicious!! Remember when we talked about photography? How I love people's smile? Guess what? I think yours is my favorite. So please keep wearing it. You're precious, Jaem. I am so sorry for everything. I hope you get the love that you deserve. Do me a favor and forget me, will you? -y/n :)

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

"Is it on?" Jaemin was a giggling mess, infront of you as you filmed him beside you on your bed, nothing but the sheets.

"It is! Okay, ladies and gents,--"

"This man right here," You booped his nose, "Just gave me a mind blowing orgasm about.. hm, six minutes ago?" Jaemin laughed at the camera, before wiggling his eyebrows at it. "I did, one of my proudest talents."

"Shut up!" you laughed. "Anyways, Mr. Jaemin-ssi. Tell the whole world your age and what you want to be when you grow up!" You giggled, focusing the camera on his bare face. His eyes heavy, smile reaching his eyes.

"22, and yours." He whispered as he looked at your eyes instead of the camera lense.

"What? You barely said anything!"

"I just did what you told me, baby. I told my whole world what my age was and what I wanted to be." Jaemin can see the sudden rush of color on your cheeks. You frowned cutely.

"You're a loser." A tinge of smile you desperately hid made Jaemin laugh. He likes it when you pretend you don't like his corny takes.

Jaemin then grabbed the camera, now turned it to you, also nothing but the sheets and bare face. Jaemin is convinced this is what heaven must look like.

"Now to my pretty interviewer-- aren't you gorgeous?" You jokingly cleared your throat, smiled so big that it could make anyone blind.

"Hi, I'm y/n, Jaemin's pretty interviewer."

"So, my pretty girl. 5 years from now, how do you see yourself?" You were a bit unprepared with Jaemin's question, he sees it the way your smiles faltered a bit.

It took you a minute before you answered, "Better. I hope I can be better so I can take care of this little manchild." You somehow turned it light, grabbing the camera from Jaemin and pointing at him.

"Well, y/n from 5 years from now, I'm glad-- I hope, I'm still there by your side."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

"Yeri, I've told you a hundred times, she's my mother so you need to treat her with respect!" Jaemin can't help but yell, just as he followed Yeri out of the restaurant.

"She doesn't like me, Jaemin! Gosh your mother is so-, I'm not dealing with her shit anymore, Jaemin!" Yeri yelled back, stomping her feet as she walked toward's Jaemin's car.

Yeri is Jaemin's girlfriend for four months. He went out with her upon his father's request and to his mother's dismay. His father thought Jaemin could finally settle down with a woman after you.

Jaemin can't help but grunt, looking up, frustrated and honestly just tired. Everyday he questions why he's even with Yeri. The girl did nothing but drain his wallet, disrespect his mother and treat him like a trophy boyfriend.

"She's not allowed in our apartment anymore," Yeri said as she settles herself on Jaemin's passenger seat.

"What apartment? It's my apartment and you sleep there, Yeri. And you can't just-- ban my mother from my place!" Jaemin has already forgotten the time where him and Yeri never argued.

"Did you see the way she looked at me? And you're gonna sit there and not defend me?" Jaemin admits that his mother did have a distaste with his girlfriend, but never once did his mother did anything to show that. She is not that kind of person and Jaemin's sure he's not the only one to vouch for that.

"She was trying to make a conversation and you blatantly ignored her, Yeri."

"I didn't like her tone." she rolled her eyes and pulled out her phone as Jaemin drove. He decided not to talk anymore, mostly because he doesn't want to argue anymore.

"What're we doing here?" Yeri saw that he parked outside her apartment complex.

"I need time for myself, Yeri. I can't handle you anymore." He expressed with utmost respect.

"Are you kidding me? You're kicking me out of your place?!" Yeri squealed, almost making Jaemin cover his ears.

"You can disrespect me but not my mom, Yeri."

Yeri smirked, crossed her arms on her chest, and looked at Jaemin. "You're trash, Jaemin. Such a fucking mama's boy. I bet this isn't even about your mother, huh? Still about that bitch who left y--"

"Get out or I'm gonna have to drag you out, Yeri. Please." Thankfully, Yeri did get out, but not walking away before she slams the door, making Jaemin flinch a bit. He makes sure the Yeri actually went in the building before he drove off.

He pulled out his phone, texting his mom. He decided that he'll just go back to the restaurant and apologize for Yeri's behavior. He knew that his mom was hurt, and he can't let the night pass without comforting his mom.

Luckily, the restaurant is near where he was so it took him about ten minutes to go back. Getting out of his car, he wondered if his parents are still there.

Looking further inside the restaurant, he didn't notice someone walking out the door so inevitably, he bumped and collided with a man. He quickly bows, "I'm sorry, man."

"No worries," Jaemin was a bit perplexed on how deep the man's voice is, but shrugged it off anyways.

"Felix!"

Jaemin felt his heart stop a beat. He knows that voice.

"I'm here," The man responded.

Jaemin was frozen on the spot. He was afraid to look behind him and put a face in to the voice he just heard, but he's sure as hell he's not leaving this spot without knowing who it is.

"Excuse me," This time, the woman was much closer to him as she walked pass Jaemin.

His breath hitched, time slows down as he saw the back of her head.

Before she could even take a step further, Jaemin grabbed her wrists, not thinking of anything,-- just the fact that he desparately wanted to see her face.

"Hey!-- What,-- Jaemin?"

There you are.

Jaemin gulped before blinking to see if he was just hallucinating but there you really are. "Y/N," he whispered, more to himself.

"You know him?" The man, who he assumes was Felix, asked, looking at Jaemin's hands on your wrist. It brought Jaemin back to reality, and swiftly let go of your hand.

"Y-yeah," Your cheeks burned, not letting your eyes away from Jaemin. It was like everyone else blurred out, and you two were the only ones in the room.

"You okay, man?" Thats when Jaemin realized that his jaw was actually a bit slacked, staring at you for a solid minute now. He shook his head to look at Felix,

"Yeah. Uh, y/n, how-- how are you?" Jaemin's breathing was starting to get abnormal, as he was really shocked to see you here.

"Good," you cleared your throat, "Great, actually. Uhm, Felix, this is Jaemin," "Jaemin, Felix." The two shook hands, Felix was still visibly confused but Jaemin was still stuck on you.

"Old friend?" Felix asked.

"Is that what she told you?" Jaemin, glancing on you.

"Yes?" Felix was starting to feel uncomfortable, as he had no clue what the heck is happening in front of him. You two looked perplexed and out of it, to say the least.

"I--, We need to go, Felix. Hey, uhm, Jaemin-?" It was obvious you were aghast, just like Jaemin.

Jaemin looked back at you again, "Yeah?"

"I'll see you around?" You uttered.

"Okay." Jaemin said quietly.

The two started to walk away from Jaemin, but Jaemin was left there frozen. In his own thoughts, drowing in memories about you. Everything came crashing back on him and it was overwhelming. After so long, you still had that power over him. You still manage to get his guard down.

This is fucking dangerous. Jaemin shouldn't even feel like this. One look, one word-- and its like his whole being fell again. Is destiny truly fucking with him? He took so long-- months, to get you out his system. Or at least burn it so deep inside his brain along with the memories you have. And for what? All of it being opened like a freshly sewed wound, all because of a three second interaction?

That night, Jaemin went home with a feeling so familiar. Like he wanted to find you again. Just like the first time he saw you at that cafeteria. He wonders if he'll see you again.

Actually, no. He will make sure to see you again.

---

"You can't break up with me,"

Jaemin sighed, he didn't know what else to do. This was the only way Jaemin thought of, specially after his encounter with you. He knew the effect you had on him that night wasn't the innocent 'seeing your friend after long time' type of thing. He knew there's more to it.

"I'm sorry," and he really is. He didn't want to string Yeri along, and doesn't want to give her false hope that this relationship is going somewhere.

"Is this about your stupid mom? Fine, I'll apologize!" The thing with his mom was also a big thing in coming to this decision. Jaemin likes to think that even if he didn't see you that night, this breakup was inevitable. It was coming, sooner or later.

"Don't-- don't call my mother like that, Yeri, please. And no, there's more to it. Please, I want a clean breakup," Jaemin didn't want to elaborate, he didn't want to hurt Yeri even more.

"You can't leave me, Jaemin! We have a party to attend-- I already told them about you! Do you want me to be embarrassed?" Of course. Of course its about the fucking party.

Jaemin was a trophy for Yeri. Handsome and rich, Yeri bragged about having him in her palms. Jaemin never complained about it but it does bother him. And Yeri bringing it up now just showed him how Yeri never really cared about this relationship.

"You can find a new boy toy, somewhere else, Yeri. I'm done." He's not gonna lie, there's still a pang of guilt when he walked away from Yeri. He knew it was unavoidable, yet it with you in the picture again, it does play a huge part.

"A fucking toast for the newly single man! I'm so proud of you for letting that devil reincarnate go!" Haechan was beyond sober, as he welcomed Jaemin who just came a few minutes earlier.

"You really did it, huh?" Renjun smiled, putting his arm around Jaemin's shoulder.

"Yeah, I guess." Jaemin shrugged. Every moment feels important to him. He doesn't have any idea when you'll show up again. So he better not drink even a drop of alcohol, just in case.

"Why the long face?" Jeno was buzzed aswell, completely leaning on the bar couch. Eyes barely open, he's been drinking quite a lot lately.

"Nothing," Jaemin doesn't want to say anything about you and his' encounter, he didn't want to jinx it.

The bar was loud and busy, yet Jaemin was quiet and stuffy. He does feel relieved, breaking up with Yeri was a huge weight off of his shoulder. But he can't get off his mind the words you said.

"I'll see you around?"

Where exactly is around? When will you see him? Is it in the same restaurant? Will you text him to meet? Is that Felix guy your boyfriend?

"You're such a bore, Jaemin. Not even a shot?" Its a mystery how Jeno managed to stand on his feet with how drunk he is but he still did, handing Jaemin a shot, which Jaemin refused.

"Not in the mood,"

"Whatever. Y'know, eversince that gi-"

Before Jeno could even finish, Renjun, which had a little to zero alcohol in his system quickly pulled Jeno down beside him.

"I'll sew your mouth close, Lee. Now sit down and let me fucking find the other Lee." He was referring to Haechan, which also is drunk out of his mind, but still ran into the sea of people on the dancefloor.

"I need a breather," Jaemin decided to go outside the bar, but making sure that Jeno is well situated first before leaving the poor man laying in the couch.

In every other situation, he would've loved to match Jeno's energy and got drunk as much as his best friend, but this time he is truly not in the best condition to do so.

As soon as the bar's door closed behind him, the sudden silence was almost deafening. Which Jaemin wouldn't tell if its much worse than being inside, since he was left with only his thoughts and the street in front of him.

He crossed the road into a nearby convenience store, wanting some water or any drink that could possibly soothe his mind.

"Thank you," He bowed to the cashier, as he paid for the drink in hand.

The store was empty. Just him, the staff, and some random music quietly surrounding the store.

He sat by the stools, contemplating if he should just go home. Phone dead, he disregarded the idea of calling Renjun, who he is sure would prefer to be with him in this quiet convenience store rather than to babysit two grown adults who can't seem to handle their alcohol.

Dropping the phone on the side of the table, Jaemin quietly opened and drank the coca cola he bought. He just now realized that this was his dinner. He forgot to eat. Funny, Jaemin being a big advocate of not skipping a meal, skips a meal.

The dingling sound of the door was heard, Jaemin never bothered to look because again, this is a 7/11. People come and go. A slight set of footsteps was also prominent, seemingly roaming around the store.

"Can I sit here?"

Wide eyes, heart skipping a beat. The music was suddenly gone and everything else blurred out.

"Y-Y/N." He stuttered. He can't swiftly grasp the situation before you sat down the stool beside him.

"Hi." Your hair a bit shorter, cheeks a bit fuller, carrying a shade of pink, your figure covered with a thick coat.

You placed a couple of kimbap in front of you and a coca cola, same as his.

"What are you doing here?" Jaemin, carefully picking his choice of words as to not show any signs of discomfort.

"I was passing by and.. actually, no. I followed you here." For a moment there, you sounded like you wanted to lie, but backtracked and told Jaemin the truth.

"Did you now?" Jaemin remembered when he followed you that one time, and it feels like the tables have turned.

"Yeah, figured we needed to talk." You were timid, can't barely see Jaemin eye to eye. From his memories, you were always confident with what you say. So seeing this demeanor in front of him was a change.

"How are you?" Jaemin asked, genuinely curious.

"Never been better," You answered back, with a full chest and a heave of deep breath like you were relieved.

"I'm glad," Every last word was quickly followed by a complete silence.

After a few moments of deep thought, Jaemin wasn't sure what to say. Yes, before you showed up, questions was flooding in his brain. Asking for answers on why you left, why'd you lie and most importantly, why did you break him for no reason.

Jaemin's thoughts mustve been loud, hence the next dentence that came out of your lips.

"I'm guessing you have questions?"

Maybe Jaemin should've had a few shots before, to ease the tension and gain liquid courage, because fuck, he doesn't think he can handle this tonight.

But for the months you were gone, Jaemin isn't gonna pass this rare chance that you showed up, much more, showing up to talk to him properly.

"Why'd you leave?" Three words that circulated Jaemin's mind on those months you were gone. A question he asked himself a lot of times.

You were still for a bit, likely thinking about the answer. Jaemin could explode at any moment, he feels.

"I signed myself up for rehabilitation."

This wasn't the answer Jaemin expected. Its somehow a blow, to him, because he was angry at you for flaking on him for no reason. But now that you answered one of the many questions he had, it made Jaemin regret some of the things he had thought of about you. His guilt crept in.

"I-, I didn't know."

"Only a few knew about that. You were one of the unlucky ones to have suffered from it, so I thought you needed atleast an explanation." You smiled bitterly, still looking outside, whilst Jaemin looked at your side profile.

You continued. "I assume Jiho had filled you up with some of my dilemmas after I left. But trust me, Jaemin. I never intended to hurt you. You're so undeserving of the things I did but I had to make you hate me. I knew you cared for me back then, more than I had anticipated and I never really wanted to give myself that. I knew I can't receive love I didn't deserve. And I can feel it too, Jaem.." you paused.

Jaem. Oh how he missed the way you called him that.

".. I can feel that you really wanted to fix me. And you truly tried your best. But back then I didn't want to be fixed. And its unfair to have you selfishly. I never slept with your friend, I just made you believe that. I wanted you to despise me, to never think about me ever again." Well, you failed on that part, big time.

"Just hoped you gave me a chance to take care of you," Jaemin muttered.

"I'm not that evil to give you a burden like that,"

"You were never a burden to me,"

You let out a humourless grin, "I'd like to believe that, but we both know that's not true. For as long as I remember, I had been apologizing for just.. existing."

"I could've been there, y/n. I could've helped you."

"No, Jaemin. I don't think so, cuz even then, I couldn't even help myself." You spoke with great sincerity.

Another cruel moment of silence passed, and it was the most intense yet. None of you spoke, as if your thoughts were connected and understood each other without even saying a word.

"You really fucked me up, you know." It was now or never for Jaemin. Might as well open the can of worms now, and regret everything later. He might not have the same courage and opportunity as now.

"I did. And I'm so.. so sorry."

"But it's fine, y/n. I was young and naive, I guess I needed that. I already forgave you, fuck it, I don't even need to because I never truly hated you. All I did was love you, and even after you broke me, I still did." Looking into the distance, after so many failed attempts, he finally said it out loud. He was ready to risk it all, again.

"And I knew that, Jaemin. And maybe, I did love you too but back then I didn't know what love is. It was so scary and overwhelming that even from a distance, I already despised that kind of feeling."

"Are you... happy?" Jaemin thought about the man you were with. And at this moment, your answer was crucial, as it was a defining moment of what step or path he should go next.

"Yes. Are you?" Looking at him, you saw his eyes fill with unspoken comprehension of what its like to be happy and sad at the same time.

Happy that you're doing great, sad because he had just accepted the fact that you're much better with somebody else.

"I have no idea." And that was the truth. He wasn't sure if theres a word that could describe how he feels.

"Yeri, right? I heard from someone that you're with her. She seems great," Oh, what a great timing.

"We broke up already."

You widen your eyes and smiled awkwardly, "I'm sorry,"

"No, its okay. It wasn't working anyways. It was bound to happen sooner or later. You and Felix?"

"He's a great friend. He helped me with sobriety and therapy." Friend? Is that so?

"I thought you were dating," Jaemin liked the way this is going, it gave him hope.

"No, not really, never had anyone after you."

Is Jaemin supposed to be proud? Nonetheless, he felt a slight flutter in his chest. He was about to make a decision that will ultimately trash the imaginary walls he tried to build.

"Have.. have you thought about what we could've been?" Oh, what a risky question.

"Yeah, even back then, I always dreamed about an alternate universe where I wasn't so fucked up and actually tried something with you." Okay. You seem fine now, you seem on track. It wouldn't hurt to try again, right? Jaemin wanted to slap himself. Do he really want to risk it again?

"You could still.. try." The answer is yes.

You furrowed your brows, tilted your head a bit, "I don't think you deserve another heartbreak, specially from me, you know?" You chuckled, yet Jaemin was serious. This time, he's set to have you. He has to have you.

"I'll gladly let you break my heart again, y/n. Trust me, you'll only find yourself inside."

.·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·.

Maybe Jaemin was setting himself up for another heartbreak, but this time he was certain. He was certain to give it his all-- everything he has to lose. You were worth every piece of his heart.

He kissed your lips like he held his entire life on it, like every moment were his last. Running your hands on his hair, you two blindly roamed around your apartment. Luckily, Jaemin still had the entire apartment sketched in his brain.

You felt his hands lower, lifting up your ass, signaling you to jump and cling onto him. You gladly did, and like a feather, he lifted you without any struggle. Lips still tangled together, Jaemin lowered you into the soft texture of your bed.

"I missed you so much," Jaemin groaned as he parted his lips from you. Seeing your face against the dimly lit room was majestic. Not long before he lowered his face onto your neck, giving it open mouth kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

Slowly, he tugged on your shirt upwards, lifted it and revealed your soft pink laced bra, covering your breast. Jaemin didn't waste time grabbed one of you breast, caressing it gently, just enough to bring you pleasure without discomfort.

"Hmm, I missed this," He groaned again.

You whined, being sensitive to every touch he gave you. His hands worked like magic, pulling down your bra and swiftly latching his mouth on your left nipple, while still caressing the other. "Ah, fuck.. baby." you moaned.

You can feel your core dripping already, desperate for any kind of friction. His expert hands left your boob, yet not leaving your skin, just lowering to the area you were sensitive the most. In a split second, your pants was undone and a cold breeze on your center gave you goosebumps all over. "So wet for me,"

"Yes.. yes, please, touch me." You begged for him. You needed him.

"You don't need to beg, princess." Just then, his middle finger applied pressure on your dripping core, igniting a spark that felt so good-- you couldn't help but buck your hips onto his hands.

He was gonna love you, and you were gonna love him. Tomorrow's uncertain, but today was sure. You were meant to be his, and he's meant to be yours.

Let your heart get what it wants. If you get hurt, then you have to endure. Jaemin endured the entire time and its your time to gamble.

While Jaemin was still devouring every inch of your skin, you took this chance to touch his clothed member- already rock hard, seeking freedom from the confinement of his pants. You traced it before gripping it through the fabric, making Jaemin hiss in pleasure.

"Take.. it off." Barely composing a sentence, Jaemin understood the assignment and pulled away, to undress himself. His top came off first, and just like a reflex, your hands quickly find his toned chest, down to his abs. You can't help but bite your lip, seeing his body again after so long. The only difference is, this time, he has a more mature build.

Tracing your hand down to his lower abdomen, and even much lower, and helped him undo his pants. As he disregarded all of his clothes, he didn't waste time and quickly lowered himself again to you. Kissing you with burning passion, he grind his hips onto yours, and you felt his hard length poking your thigh.

Using your hand, you grabbed it by the base, Jaemin reacting so sensitive made you excited. Your hands doing up and down motion, pointing finger tracing the slit on his pinkish tip.

"Fuck.. fuck baby, god." Jaemin couldn't help but groan deeply, urging you to move faster. Your movement all of a sudden halt, as Jaemin held your wrist, stopping you. "I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that." His dark voice whispered.

"Already?" You smirked at him.

"You underestimate your effect on me, baby." Truly, you were the only person who could melt Jaemin into a puddle if you wanted to.

His hand balancing himself on top of you, as the other held his cock, lining himself onto your entrance.

"Ah.. ah, shit," You moaned, caused by the stretch. A slight tinge of pain but quickly replaced by a wave of intense pleasure as he deeply plunges until you take all of him.

"So.. so fucking tight, oh fuck." Jaemin waited for your signal to keep moving. Which you did, by lifting your hips up to create any sort of movement. He swiftly pull out, just to go in again.

"I love you," Jaemin cried from pleasure, his tempo slowly gaining speed.

"I love you so much," you replied, grabbing his face to look at you as he fucks you with intense affection.

"Y/n, y/n.. I love you." He repeated like a mantra, going in and out repeatedly. You can feel your insides creating a bubble-- soon going to pop. He examines all of your features, "Cum for me." He murmured.

You nodded in response, biting your lip, yet not losing eye contact. A sudden wave of pleasure struck, and before you knew it, you're shaking under him. "I.. I love you."

"I'm cumming, shi..." You locked your legs on his waist, as he stilled so deep, reaching levels of your insides no one has ever reachex before. He cums, deep inside you and you felt his warm, thick ropes of cum paint your insides. His body collapses on top of you, heavy breathing surrounded the apartment.

Honestly, Jaemin didn't care if you hurt him again, Heck, break him again and again. Run away if you can, but he would make sure that he'll be here, always waiting for you. Break his heart for all he cares. You'll only find yourself there.

"Let's go, baby. They can't wait to meet you." Jaemin smiled at you softly, opening the car door before letting you in.

"I really get the feeling that they hate me." You nervously said, as Jaemin went around the car and sat at the driver seat.

"They actually did, back then. But now they're a lot less dumber." You laughed at him.

This was the first time Jaemin will introduce you to his friends. Even tho you knew that they already know you from the past, you wanted to introduce your new self. The self thats much better.

As you arrived at their shared apartment, you can already hear the noise behind the door. You looked at Jaemin with anticipation, as he opened the door.

"There she is! Hi, y/n!" Haechan, which you have encountered before, greeted you with a big smile. He was approaching with wide arms, which Jaemin quickly swats away.

"No." Jaemin simply says as he put his arms around you and dragged you further in the house.

There, you saw Jeno and Renjun playing Jenga. As soon as you sat down, the tower had fallen. Renjun frowning, Jeno with a big smile.

"Oh hi, y/n. Renjun just lost in Jenga, again." The cocky grin was present in Jeno's face.

"That doesn't count! We should play again, this time with y/n!"

You were quiet, but not because you were uncomfortable, but because you were slowly digesting everything. You felt so belonged with these people that its felt a bit weird, in a good way.

You smiled at them, looking back at Jaemin who's walking towards you with a drink in hand. "Thirsty, baby?" His smile was enchanting, and so, so gorgeous.

The time goes on and it all felt natural. It was the first time you saw Jaemin laugh that much, and it made you happier than ever. Then and there, you have concluded that you will never hurt this man again. This time, you'll try to make this work, because you knew he was the only one for you.

And even if the gods and the heaven above curse you for loving selfishly, you wouldn't care. Jaemin is the perfect man for you. And you can't let that smile fade again.

"What're you thinking?" Jaemin whispered, above all the noise from his friends.

"I love you."

And if you thought Jaemin's smile couldn't get any bigger, it did.

"I love you." He answered.

This time, you'll get your happy ending. You choose your happiness and Jaemin. Forever, you will choose Jaemin. Because you realize that after everything, even fiction itself, got nothing on this man.

A/N: I know it took so long to publish but again, I'm a bit busy! But how was it?? I hope you liked the first installation of my series, diary of the heart breakers! Thank you so much.

taglist: @cutiepeas @legbouk@hyuckissed @bockhyun @hibernatinghamster@shookyungsoo@sundamariis@sharkipoonis@ohmykwonsoonyoung@carelessshootanonymous

next part >> Inevitably Yours

#nct imagines #kpop imagines #nct x reader #kpop oneshots #nct #nct dream #kpop au #nct 127 #nct aus #na jaemin #jaemin smut #nct jaemin #nctzen #nct mark #nct drabbles #nct fluff #lee haechan #huang renjun #lee jeno

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