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lvrboy-inc · 24 days ago

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I Lost My Mind in the Sakura Flowers ꫂ ၴႅ

“PRETTY WHEN U CRY” — PLVTINUM

꒰: Précis | A first person POV, dipping into the mind of a melancholic young man who is just a bit..off. Is he really above all of the chaos that is his life? Or is it all just another façade in which he’s also fooled himself this time..

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | This act contains strong language, manipulation.. [Loser behavior] Tread carefully~!!

꒰: Word Count ; 4.2k

꒰: Sakura Flowers—All Acts ; Here

Act 5

Hangovers had never been something I dealt with easily. Having drank so much the night previous, my head was pounding in a way that served to rattle my thoughts. Although I came on my own, I had to call one of my friends who happened to be attending the party to drive me home.

I couldn’t have asked Allison for..obvious reasons. But Jayson was open and ready to help when I’d sent him the, ‘Too drunk to drive home’ text, luckily pulling him away from the event that was getting too out of hand in his own words.

The ride home was silent for the most part, the low rumbling of the car making a slight calm in the sea of emotions that were making waves in my heart. It didn’t take but a few short glances for him to notice the bite marks on my neck to which he asked, “Woah, you and Ali have a good time tonight?” His tone was lighthearted and filled with amusement.

My stone-cold stare was enough to give away the fact I wasn’t happy at the aspect of it. “Yeah. She got a little wild.” Was the only response I could muster without giving away the fact she hadn’t even been involved in the making of it.

He gave a smirk as he patted me on my shoulder. “Ah, don’t worry ‘bout it man. Listen, if she bites too hard you could always gag her.” I know his words were meant to lighten up the mood but I let out a long groan, slumping down into my seat as I put my hands over my face.

By that time I think he’d gotten the message and his eyes focused back on the road with a heavy sigh.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Once we’d gotten back to my parent’s place, he helped me stumble up to the doorstep, trying to sober me up enough to seem presentable in front of whoever could’ve possibly been up. It was late already and my parents tended to turn in early so I wasn’t expecting either of them to be awake—but you could never be too careful.

Jayson did one final wellness check before handing me my wallet which I’d left in the passenger seat. “Take care, man. Call me if something comes up, you know I’ll be there.” He sealed his words with a light tap of his fist to my chest before walking down the driveway and back to his car that was parked at the side of the road.

I turned back to my front door, leaning my head against it with a long breath before rummaging through my pocket and fishing out my house keys. I was struggling more than I would’ve liked to admit trying to even get it to fit in the keyhole. No, like, an unnatural amount of struggle—ah, maybe because it wasn’t even the right key.

Noticing my mistake, I flipped through and finally found the right one, shoving it into the lock with a crunch of its teeth against the pins inside before giving a light twist and pushing the door open.

Being greeted by the silence once more, it was actually relieving now. Well, besides the gutteral sound of my father’s sleep apnea ravaging his throat whilst he lie fast asleep on the couch. The remote had fallen to the floor and the television was left on. I moved to turn the TV off, setting the remote down on the coffee table and leaving him in the darkness of the now silent living room.

I wondered if they had even noticed I left. Probably not..but it was a nice thought.

My feet carried me softly upstairs as I watched the framed pictures of our family pass me by. One that caught my eyes was the one that rested in the clearing just before the second set of stairs, surrounded by other nature-like photos.

Catching sight of it, I paused in my tracks, standing up at a bit more attention as my fingers reached out to graze over the smooth glass that enclosed the memory behind it. There, standing proudly was a picture of the all-american dream; my father holding me—a much younger, perhaps eight or so—on his shoulders. All the while, I held onto my mother’s hand. Surprisingly, I remembered that day vividly.

In fact, it had rained terribly just half an hour after it was taken.

She looked so youthful and carefree. It was long before she’d began to work that dead end job and after she and my father had gotten married. Even my father’s features were missing the blankness that I had gotten used to. His harsh wrinkles replaced by subtle ones and his beard that now grew grey was a coursing, strong black.

Then my eyes traced back up from my parents, and landing on my own face. Out of all the times I’d walked up and down these damned stairs and the photo just seemed like a commonality—but now analyzing it in so much depth, there was a sense of longing..of loss that now festered deep within my soul.

My face had been so soft and rounded, a perfect accent to my big, black, doe eyes that were slightly overshadowed by my brunette and subtle curls. Instinctively, my fingers came up to my own hair, running them loosely through—it had changed. Everything about me had changed.

Not only my features sharpening and turning much more emasculated but my eyes had grown cold and piercing; devoid of all that childlike whimsy. The warm glow that my hair once emanated was now masked by a strict dying schedule and a straightener ran through here and there.

I didn’t want to dwell on the picture too long..I already felt like some sort of specter walking down a hallway of memories that had long abandoned me rather than I, them.

That brings me back to the present.

The morning after was serene. As I didn’t have to get up earlier for school, I was permitted the grace of sleeping in, letting reality pass by whilst my eyes held me under the blanket of a peaceful rest.

But when I finally stirred awake, the throbbing in my temples was too powerful to ignore. Not only that but as I remained buried in my sheets, I reached over to grab my phone resting on my nightstand.

32 missed texts. 16 missed calls.

Fuck.

It wasn’t hard to navigate who they came from, each and every one of them coming from Allison. Taking a while to recall why exactly this would be happening, it finally dawned on me. Despite my night having been whisked up in Marko’s actions, mine had left Allison with a sense of guilt and utter separation anxiety.

Opening up my screen and clicking open our message box, I had to scroll a bit before getting to the top. God, this was a mess.

Allison: Azuuuu

Where did you go?

Can’t find you..did you go to the bathroom?

I’m sorry for what happened..it wasn’t my place to speak on it..please don’t be mad at me.

Call me?

The party is almost over..did you go home???

Pleaseeee let me know if you made it back safe!!

Azura, please, are you that upset? I promise I won’t do it again just forgive me.

Please don’t ignore me, I love you.

That, piled onto a plethora of other desperate begging and pleading messages ran throughout the bubbles filling our chat log. It was so fucking annoying. Like a dog that had been left for work by their owner, simply not grasping the concept that they’d be back.

Then, it went onto the voicemails.

“Hey, Azu, Julia said she’s sorry for bringing that up but she didn’t mean anything by it you know? It was just a mistake, we’re all drunk and it’s bound for some words to slip out..call me back.” The first.

“It’s getting kinda boring without you here..I don’t know where you went so just respond to my texts?” The second.

“I’m really, really sorry,” The beginning of the third played and just as I was about to click off and delete it, her next words interrupted that. “I know we didn’t start off traditionally..at all. But you’re my everything. I don’t want to lose you because I’m..not enough..” Her voice trembled and almost broke as she uttered the last two words.

I could hear the faint background noise of the party raging on; she must’ve stepped outside just to make the message. Then..she began to cry. “I want to be enough for you. I want to be your everything too..but you don’t let me in. I can see it, the way you’re so guarded around me, that look in your eyes when you’re going through so much that you won’t let me know..” My jaw clenched as I simply buried my face into the pillow, sighing heavily into the thin fabric.

“I’m probably just too drunk to be even talking right now but..it feels like you’re not even mine sometimes,” That did it. “Just let me in, Azu. I promise I won’t break your heart or do anything of the sort but please, just..please. Let’s fix this between us.”

Then the soft click came from the phone, signaling the end of the message. This entire thing was such a wreck..I am such a wreck.

How could she think any of this was her fault?

There were a multitude of other voice messages that I didn’t even bother clicking through but I knew they’d all run along the same lines as the last. But even amidst my own isolation, she still found some way to blame herself for wanting to stay with me, for wanting more in the relationship, for wanting someone who was actually hers. For a moment, I could’ve sworn she sounded just like my mother.

I knew I had to get my shit together and fast, but in all honesty? That could all wait for Monday. What I needed now was a nice peppermint tea and some tylenol—or maybe straight morphine.

And so, I did just that. Spending the rest of the day in idleness, reading and catching up on some work that I hadn’t bothered to keep up with during the time of my punishment for the altercation in gym class. It was nice to get away from the constant war that seemed to be my life now and take a refreshing drink of fresh air and a sense of productivity that I missed terribly.

My mother and I spoke later in the afternoon. She was clearly choosing to ignore what had went down just a night or so ago and was mainly focused on asking me how the party had went—while she had advocated for me getting out and hanging out with people my age, my father had been more than reluctant to let me go anywhere since my ‘disrespectful tongue’ couldn’t be held. But I pressed and he caved.

Giving her the smallest bit of details as to what happened, she was ecstatic to hear that Allison had invited me out in the first place.

“She’s such a good girl, you really found a keeper there, Azura.” She chimed as she was perched on the couch, typing away at her laptop and, as always, knee-deep in her workly duties. I didn’t give her any sort of pushback but instead just nodded and gave a dry agreement.

Then, the next thing I knew, night had come along..the weekends always seemed like 30-minute breaks when I really needed them to feel longer. But before bed, I gave myself a slight pep talk for how I was to handle the next day.

Finally, it came. I woke up and for once, I wasn’t so caught up in my routine that it was almost mechanical, instead just savoring each moment of the morning before I’d be shoved off of the cliff and back into the cold, icy waters of my life.

The ride to school was just as dormant and stagnant as the lingering, mild headache that I had. Luckily, the driver was an older man, looking about in his 60s or so that hated small talk as much as I did. We said our greetings, confirmed my identity and I was nestled in the back of the car, letting the coolness of the window contrast against the skin of my forehead as it seemed to wash away the underlying tension in my muscles.

Letting out a soft sigh, I found myself dozing off for a bit before being lightly jolted awake by the driver who informed me we had arrived. Waking myself up some more, I nodded and fixed my slightly tousled hair before sliding out of the vehicle and shutting the door. I was about to inform him of his tip but he was already gone by the time I had looked back. Whatever, he’ll see the notification, I thought, sending him my tip on the app and holding my phone out in my hand for a moment.

My eyes immediately scanned around for Allison, expecting to see her outside with her little friends as always but..she wasn’t there. Expected. I wouldn’t want to see someone who essentially ghosted me either; even if it wasn’t entirely on purpose. No matter..

I shot her a quick text.

You: I’m at school. Meet me in the old section after the day ends. Need to talk.

And with that, I went about the rest of my day.

It was sort of..odd. As I’d usually accompany Allison from class to class, it was strange the fact that I didn’t see her at any time of the day. She was..avoiding me. Like, seriously avoiding me. Just moments before I would arrive anywhere she went, someone would say ‘You just missed her’ or ‘She had to go’, all followed by shrugs.

What stupid game was she playing?

Marko hadn’t shown up for school—I noted in my English class as I stared at the empty desk where he should’ve been. Guess he couldn’t handle his liquor that well..or maybe he was trying to ignore his problems..problem, too.

The entire atmosphere of the school seemed off to me for the whole day. Not that anyone else found anything amiss but I was left in a state of unease even as I was wiping down counters in the cafeteria’s kitchen and even as I swept through the halls for my last period. Thankfully, there were only a few more days left in my punishment so I was content in just ‘serving my time’ and going back to my daily schedule.

When the bell rang and the hallways began to be flooded by hurried footsteps and the ample chatter among students leaving for home, heading to buses, going to their parents parked outside and getting into their own cars, I went back to the janitor’s closet, setting the broom down inside. Wiping my brow, I looked at the time and made haste in making my way back to my locker, grabbing my belongings and slithering off through the back corridors.

The doorways to the old section of the school building.

Whilst I walked, the lockers got more worn, some of them rusted and peeled from years of unuse. My footsteps, once drowned among the sea of others were quickly isolated as I walked down the darkened halls of the older parts of the school.

Subtly echoing through the corridors, I finally arrived at an empty classroom. It was riddled with dust that I swiped up with my fingers and rubbed between the tips before dropping it down to the ground. “What a dump..” I muttered to myself. No wonder my mother was so humble—I’d be too if I went to this place every day as a child.

I set my bag down, hopping up on the wooden desk that creaked under my weight—a testament to its age—and began the waiting game for Allison’s arrival.

Even as I sat contently, there was a bad feeling that was eating up my insides. What if she really didn’t show? No..she always showed. If she was on her deathbed and I asked her to bring me a glass of water; she’d show. So now it wouldn't be any different. I had to reassure myself, thinking she was only delayed.

There I sat, for what seemed like ages before I was getting ready to leave. “What a waste of time..” I grumbled before reaching for my bag.

Just as I did, the door slowly opened on its squeaky hinges to which a knowing smirk played across my lips. Atta girl.

“Ali, hey. Long time no see?” I guess it was sort of inappropriate to greet her that way after everything that had gone down but regardless, I had no shame. “Sorry for not returning your calls Saturday, got a little too indulgent, y’know—” My words were cut off by a swift slap to my face. “The fuck..?”

I turned back to look at her—those same bright eyes having been overcast with the threat of tears that loomed. Her face was contorted into a strong pout as her other hand was clenched into a fist. “Do you know how worried sick I was over you, Azu? I went around that party more than 5 times asking anyone if they’d seen you, just to know if you were even okay.”

Her voice caught in her throat as I watched her trying to swallow down the lump that was forming there. “You didn’t call back, you didn’t text back, and all throughout Sunday I didn’t hear a single word!” Great. Now here come the fucking dramatics.

“Oh right, because it’s my fault that you can’t go two fucking seconds, that you can’t even breathe without me being there? Listen to yourself.” My voice had dropped to a cold and firm bite as I buried my hands into my pockets. “I’m standing here right in front of you now, so obviously I’m fine. What more can you ask for?”

She let out a long huff of frustration, loud and strained as she came closer, taking my face up into her hands. Instantly, my eyes narrowed at her. More of this fucking physical contact..

By now Allison’s eyes had welled up, bordering on letting those salty diamonds fall freely. “I’m asking for a boyfriend who can give me the common courtesy of letting me know when he’s sick of the party. I’m asking for a boyfriend that isn’t too cut-off from life to share his emotions with me. I’m asking for someone who actually loves me and doesn’t just tolerate me to spare my feelings!”

My gaze darted off to the side as I let out a small sigh.

“Fucking look at me, Azura!” She snapped. With an air of annoyance, I did, only returning her hold on me in my own manner. My hands came up to grab ahold of both sides of her face as I peered down into her eyes. As much as it would’ve made me sick and twisted..seeing her so high strung, so emotional and on the verge of losing it..was making her more attractive than anything she’d shown me before.

The intimacy of the moment was palpable as, like before, our breaths mixed together, seeming like the only thread of connection that was holding us right now. “If you don’t want to be with me, say that. If you want me to stay, fucking say that. But don’t just give me the same silence,” Her words had begun to sound less like demands and bordering on pleas as her tone wavered. “I’ll go insane if you don’t just say something—”

She stopped.

There was a brief second of observation before her hands fell down from my face, then moving to brush aside the collar of my uniform. And that was when I actually remembered just why I had left Saturday night.

“Azu..Azura..” I watched all of that conviction leave her features as she took in the sight that had been laid out before her eyes. “What..what is that? What is this..? I don’t..” Finally, those salty droplets began to fall from her eyes in a way that made mine roll. “I don’t understand..”

Her look of realization was laced with contemplation, rethinking every little thing. “You cheated-? But..that’s not..that’s not like you. You wouldn’t! You wouldn’t do that to me..because you love me! I know you do!” She yelled, clearly trying to convince herself more than anyone else present.

It was at that moment that I realized our little trial run had reached its end and honestly..? I definitely didn’t want to renew it. All of this time, she served her purpose well; acting as cover and a reliable source of information and a way to cure my boredom. Only now, she had reached the end of her role and my patience.

Watching as she steadily became swallowed up in her tearful fit, I used my index and thumb to catch her chin between them. I tilted her face up to mine, starting off with that warm and caring expression; the one that had made her fall in the first place, the one that had comforted her when she had a falling out with her parents, the one that she had grown to adore and admire more than anything else.

It all sank as my voice dropped to one that was colder than any winter. “This, Allison..is the end of us.” My words were clean and delivered swiftly. She tried to pull away but I used my free hand to get a digging grip in the back of her neck, letting my fingers lace through her hair as I tugged on it enough to force our eye contact.

“You don’t understand because you can’t. You can’t fathom the fact that maybe, just maybe, all of those nights you spent crying out your pathetic woes in my arms; all the insignificant gifts you bought for me, the plethora I gave to you..” I leaned in closer, staring her dead in her eyes that were now filled with a hint of fright. “Every fucking time you came for me..was never real to me.”

My lips hovered over hers, as if imitating a kiss just by breathing shallow breaths. “You’re the most boring girl I’ve ever met, Allison Yasan. I can’t stand you, in fact.” I admitted, feeling her fresh manicure begin to scratch at my wrists as she miserably failed at trying to gain the upper hand.

“Your voice, your pathetic attitude, the mere mention of you gives me a mild migraine.” By now, my face had fallen into one that was stony and hard. Finally, fucking finally. It’s happening. After so goddamn long.. “You viewed me as this prince charming, but you want to know how I saw you?”

I breathed against her skin, leaning in to whisper deep into her ear as my grip on her face moved to the underside hinges of her jaw. “Nothing but a whiny mutt who couldn’t wait to get even the slightest ounce of validation, recognition, of love from someone who never planned on giving it.”

With that, I pulled back, keeping her face in my grasp, seeing how her slow drips had begun to descend into a full fit of sobs at my words. She was a mess. She was fucking ruined and it was all because of me.

This is what true love must’ve felt like.

“Didn’t I make you feel so fucking loved, Ali? Even though you now know I never did, your stupid fucking head is racing with all those good deeds and sweet nothings I whispered to you..you’re such a beautiful mess.” My fingers loosened their grip on her as I stepped away, carding my fingers through my hair and letting my head lean backwards with a sigh that sounded relieved.

By now, she was in hysterics, choking on her own tears and trying to keep her nose from blocking up her breathing patterns. I simply sat back and reveled in the sight, the sounds, of pure heartbreak.

“This was a nice pastime,” I began, tilting my head off at an angle as I regained my stoicism, giving her a charming smile. “But I’m sure there’s more than enough fish in the sea, right? You just happened to pick a piranha.”

As if she had suddenly gained consciousness, I observed her movements; covering up her face and trying to quell the floodgate of emotions that had piled up and spilled out in front of me. It didn’t take long for her to turn on her heel and dart out of the classroom, slamming the door in a way that threatened to topple over one of the cheap shelves—amazing to still be standing—leaving me alone in the empty room.

After an agonizingly long wait for a cut loose, I had it. And by God did it feel fucking amazing.

I moved to gather my things and briskly left the classroom, realizing I would have to explain to my mother why I’d been so late.

A/N: Boo! Woah, my hiatus game is kind of insane…I’ve got a lottt in drafts. Are Azura defenders a thing..? If so, you might wanna hold your shields or somethin’. Consistency era..? (pfft- I crack myself up.) Stay tuned. 🪡

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darklydeliciousdesires · 1 year ago

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Lost & Found - Chapter Eighteen.

A huge thank you to everyone for being such a lovely audience :) I appreciate you more than you know.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen

Words - 3,898

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you more with EZ. It’s a shitty position to be in, though, caught between my girl and my club. Especially the fucking president of the club, a guy I have a lotta respect for. I’m not good with it, though, the fact he scared you.”

Pausing, Guero leaned to her, kissing the side of her neck. “Saying that, though, despite the fact I knew you were scared, you fucking stood your ground. Baby got spicy! Made me real proud.”

“What can I say?” she mused, her eyebrows rising. “I’d had a couple a’ five beers by the time you guys arrived back. Had a little courage bolstering my spice. He came and apologised though, so we’re good.” Her eyes then found an annoyance that had been bothering her for the past hour, lifting her chin. “That over there in the leather shorts, I’m not so good with.”

Guero followed her line of vision, receiving a wave and a smile he only acknowledged with a slight nod. “Yeah, that’s Lauryn. She hasn’t been around much, guessed she came with one of the guys from another charter. She um, she tends to get around.”

Her mouth tightened a fraction, cocking her head a little. “And has she ever gotten around you?”

He shook his head. “Nope, she don’t do it for me.” Sliding his finger along the dip in her dress, he hooked it, pulling her close. “You’re the one who does it for me.” He kissed her with heat, his hands sliding down to grasp her butt, Emma hoping that his display of affection made Lauryn get the message.

She wasn’t the jealous type, and she knew he’d been with plenty of the bike bunnies who hung around the club. She’d asked and he’d told her. For the most part, as soon as those girls saw the guys become committed to one woman, they backed off. Lauryn wasn’t one of them.

“Yup,” Lee burped into her hand, pointing over to where the girl stood with her back to them a short time later. “She made a play for Obispo one time. Fuckin’ cracked her with a pool cue for it. Ain’t got no shame, that one. If she wants a specific dick, doesn’t fuckin’ matter to her if that dick is occupied, she’ll sniff around to see if there’s a chance of swiping it. I don’t do slut shaming, go get your fill is what I say, but not with another woman’s man. That’s low-down behaviour, sick shit, messed up, man.”

Lauryn then turned, lifting her chin. “Yeah, I’m talking about your trashy ass, homegirl!” Draping an arm around Emma’s shoulders, she fixed her with a look of defiance, the girl turning back to whoever she was talking to. “Absolute fuckin’ shit show.”

“She seems it, and I am in no fucking mood to deal with that tonight,” Emma stated, Lee softly applauding.

Guero looked entertained by that statement, his grin wide. “Spicy boo got all the heat tonight!”

“I fucking have, and she can have it if she tries me.”

“Yes, sugar! If she continues making eyes at your guy, you need to get over there and set her straight!” Lee roared, hiccupping.

“Oh god,” a nearby Angel sighed, shaking his head as he walked over. “Tiger is out of the damned cage. First you give my brother a face full of knuckles, and now you’re yelling at everyone.”

“Not everyone, just her,” Lee chirped, bolting back more of her drink.

“Bish is gonna gag you before the night is out.”

Lee grinned widely, giving him a little soft poke in the chest. “Don’t you threaten me with a good time!”

His head shaking continued, wrapping an arm around her. “Nothin’ but fucking trouble when you’re drunk.” As it happened, it wasn’t Lee’s actions that would lead to trouble that night, the girls heading back inside with a few of the guys to congregate at the bar, Emma going to use the bathroom. When she came back out, it was to a sight that displeased the hell out of her.

“Told you, I ain’t interested,” she could just about hear Guero state over the roar of Ace of Spades by Motorhead, Lauryn attempted to drape herself around him. He then looked up, catching her eye, stepping back and nodding in her direction as he took as seat at the bar again. “My girl is right there, you need to fucking quit.”

Her jaw tightened, eyeing her with the kind of venom that she might not have had if she hadn’t been ten beers in. Unfortunately for Lauryn, though, she was, and her give a fuck meter was as unflinching as her anger.

“Oh, man,” Angel spoke, turning to his side to witness her death glare, cringing slightly. “You gonna give us all a hair pulling chick fight? C’mon, it’ll be awesome!”

Reaching behind him, she yanked the knife from his belt before he could stop her. “I’ll fucking give you more than that.” Storming around the bar, Lauryn’s look of defiance was met with a hand to her throat, Emma driving her across the space, men all around turning to look as the object of her rage was pinned against the side of the door.

“Get the fuck off of me!” she yelled, Emma taking the knife and slamming it straight into the wood, an inch from the side of her head. The look of fear that flooded Lauryn’s face was instant.

"Oh, oh did that scare you?" She exclaimed, sarcasm dripping, yanking the knife from the wood and pressing it against her throat. "Yeah, I'm not what you thought I was, am I?"

While Lauryn was being held against the side of the doorframe, almost every single pair of eyes within the club watched it happen, Guero sitting there stunned. Well, stunned and...

"Bro, if this kicks off any further, will you go grab my girl?" he muttered to Bottles.

Tearing his eyes from the scene, he adjusted his glasses, frowning slightly. "Yeah, but why can't you?"

Guero shook his head, the corners of his mouth upturning. "Can't even walk right now. My dick is too hard. Damn, that's hot."

Bottles snorted, almost spraying his beer, Angel leaning in. "No disrespect, dog, but yeah. Mine too."

While the guys had their quiet moment of exalting how arousing the sight of an angered woman was, the angered woman in question continued making sure her feelings were heard.

"Listen to me, if you fucking wave your pussy anywhere near my guy again, I swear I will cut that shitty tattoo right off your face. Am I making myself clear, puttana?"

Lauryn nodded, eyes wide, feeling embarrassment rise in her throat. Still, she swallowed hard and lifted her chin, at least attempting not to look as frightened as she felt at having a sharp knife held to her throat. "Yeah, you are."

Smirking, Emma lowered the blade. "Good, now get the fuck out of here." Giving her a last, disapproving sweep with her eyes, she finally released the hard grasp that had held her throat, Lauryn gasping as she was let go, moving from the clubhouse rapidly.

Walking back to Guero, his eyes still like saucers, she handed an equally stunned Angel his knife back. “Thank you, buddy.” She then picked up a shot of tequila and sank it, her eyes flitting between the guys, all stupefied by her display of mettle. “What?”

“You!” Bottles laughed, reaching to nudge her arm friendlily with a fist. “You and your bad-assery, gone fried up your man’s brain. Look at him! He’s malfunctioned, needs his operating system restarting.”

She was just about to reply when two arms wrapped around her shoulders, a set of lips pressing into her cheek. “That’s how you fuckin’ do it! Bitch got her shit rocked,” Lee exclaimed. “Proud of ya, sunshine.”

Guero was still on mute, but the look in his eyes, oh. It spoke many words, all of which Emma understood very clearly. Sinking the rest of his beer, he also downed a shot before sliding off the bar stool and promptly throwing her over his shoulder.

“Woah, okay!” she giggled, hanging onto the back of his kutte. “Where are we going?”

He chuckled, low and dirty, his hand pounding off her ass in a hard spank. “To restart my operating system.” He carried her with a dark tide of lust shadowing his insides, through the gate and out into the darkness of the yard, through the piles of abandoned, rusting metal, his eyes scanning from side to side.

The still partially shiny metal of a large, double doored fridge caught his attention, carrying her to it. Letting her slide from his shoulder, he pinned her against the structure with his chest before she could reach the ground, her legs tightening around him.

“Damn, baby,” he panted, pulling at his belt buckle, running the tip of his tongue up her neck. “You’re gonna get railed so fucking hard.”

They kissed with furious hunger, Guero feeling a ravenous desire tumbling over his bones, yanking his jeans undone and pushing them down his thighs, pulling her underwear aside and dropping her onto his cock with a rumbling grunt. He teeth imbedded in her lower lip, tongue rolling against hers as he speared her with deep, rapid thrusts, pulverising her insides, her wail rending the air.

He was savage with her, a ravenous delight that tumbled through him and into her, the thick drag of his cock filling and emptying her with absolutely nothing short of carnal fury, the remaining shelves within the fridge all beginning to clatter with the force he fucked her against it with.

“If getting mad at people does this to you, I might have to do it more often,” she panted, crying out as her walls flexed around him, feeling the coil within her tightening. He was just about to tell her how her spicy temper worked like an accelerant upon his desire, when she continued. “Oh, fuck, fuck, that cock is so fucking big! Mmm, yeah, fuck me harder. Fucking split me in two.”

And oh, how he did after hearing those sinfully dirty words. It roared over them both like a forest fire, the flames of their release scorching their nerves, leaving them both panting and trembling in the wake of such torrid ferocity.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she panted, resting her forehead to his as he pulled out and set her back on her feet. “Doubt I’ll be able to walk after that.”

He chuckled, kissing her hotly. “You did say split you in two, my spicy lil’ boo.” She walked as if she had been as well, Guero laughing to himself as they walked back to continue with the debauchery. They left at close to 4am, getting home via a cab since while not wasted, both were a little unsteady at that point. Stripping off, they let their clothes fall into a heap, throwing themselves into bed and curling up.

Alcohol was the strong sleeping tonic that pulled them both into slumber, neither Emma’s hissing nor Guero’s brontosaurus snoring hampering it. It was unfortunate that for the former, her sleep was not restful, though.

She recognised her dream surroundings immediately, the huge, white and oak kitchen, people buzzing around, she and Marie preparing little trays of appetisers for party guests.

“Here, darling. Make sure that plate stays separate, it’s for my ma,” Marie spoke, pointing at the little blue plate she had prepared a selection of gluten free snacks upon. “Unfortunate, isn't it? An Italian who can’t have gluten! Mother Mary, did you ever hear such a thing?”

Emma turned to her side, smiling, her eyes prickling as she played out her role in the dream, exactly as it had happened in life. “You’d be a nightmare if you couldn’t have proper bruschetta, mom.”

Marie nudged her with a soft elbow, chuckling as she sipped her wine. “Me and no bread, can you imagine?”

Even though just a dream, all Emma wanted to do was throw her arms around her, breathe in the scent of her Guerlain perfume, and tell her how much she missed her. Not having any kind of power over it, though, she found herself acting as she had on that night, Rocco’s fiftieth birthday there at the house, picking up the little blue plate.

“I’ll go take these out to her, she’s down by the pool.”

Marie clasped her arm, squeezing softly. “Good girl.”

Lifting the plate from the crowded island full of Marie’s beautiful, home cooked Italian delights, Emma left through the back door, walking down across the patio, smiling at guests as she passed.

“Are these for me?” Anna-Lucia greeted her with warmly, Emma proffering the plate forth.

“Yes, gluten free, just for you.”

Her smile was kind, taking the plate as she set her martini glass down on the table. “Thank you, love.”

With a little nod, Emma carried on, making herself of use by beginning to collect all the abandoned plates so she could go and place them into the dishwasher, knowing that if she didn’t, she could expect an earful of abuse or worse from Rocco. While passing through the lower part of the sprawling garden, she noticed that an earful was exactly what somebody was getting from her captor, her eyes scanning until she saw Rocco with a group of his friends, he and another in a heated exchange.

The man sure had balls, she thought, stepping up to the boss like that, Emma recognising him to be Mario, Rocco’s nephew. The exchange grew in ferociousness, Rocco suddenly lunging at him, clasping his throat and shunting him back against the children’s large, wooden playhouse. He then pulled a knife from his pocket, releasing the blade and plunging it into the wood right at the side of Mario’s head, yanking it out and holding it to his throat.

She awoke with a start.

“Mm, s’up, baby? Nightmare?”

“No,” she sighed, reaching to rub Guero’s forearm, taking a deep breath. “No, it was only a dream, but shit, it spooked me.” It hit her hard, such a realisation, that there within her subconscious lay a memory that her brain had drawn upon earlier in how she’d handled the situation with Lauryn. In wanting to make it clear that she wouldn’t tolerate such behaviour, she’d become the one thing she never wanted to be. Rocco.

Taking a breath, she leaned forward, resting her forehead to her knees. “What I did to Lauryn tonight, I behaved exactly how Rocco did one time towards his nephew. Mother fucking Mary, it was spot on, my brain must’ve drawn it out of a memory, because I just dreamed of the night I saw it happen. Christ, I’m him. I acted like he does when he’s pissed!”

“Mamas, no you ain’t. No way are you anything like that motherfucker.” Her boyfriend’s statement was staunch, Emma reaching for the nightstand lamp and switching it on.

Stretching her arms, she rested her head upon her knees again, hugging them to her chest as he stroked her back. “But what I did was, though! I went straight from his playbook, even called her a puttana, too. He used to call me that. Jesus!”

It was a hard juxtapose for Guero, since he was by nature a person who, had it been a guy sniffing around Emma, likely would have done exactly the same thing. In his world, it was the norm. Hell, he’d heard all about the time Lee had taken a pool cue to Lauryn and smacked her with it so hard it had broken after the third strike against her head. In Emma’s former world too, violence was the natural display of anger, but he saw clearly that she wasn’t comfortable with it being hers.

“Look, it’s hard for me, being a person with a real fucking bad temper and thinking your reaction was justified, but I get that you aren’t so cool with it,” he began, shrugging a little. “I might not be the best person to advise you, bearing that in mind. I dunno, I’d say maybe in future if you feel yourself getting to that point then dial it back, but again, I don’t have the best track record at doing the same.” He paused, moving forward further, resting his chin to her shoulder. “How you acted in one moment isn’t defining of who you are, though. Cuz’ you ain’t him, baby.”

Pulling back from it. What he said made sense, even though he acknowledged it was something often beyond his own capabilities, Emma saw that going forward, she had to try for it not to be out of her own grasp. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew come the following day, she’d be putting herself within his proximity again, maybe it was that which had stirred her, the fear manifesting into the kind of anger she was not used to feeling.

The subconscious was a complicated beast, she realised.

Tiny little storms of worry struck upon her brain as she lay back down, curling into the warmth of Guero’s embrace once more. Still, she was glad that the alcohol in her system acted more powerfully to send her back to sleep than her thoughts did in keeping her awake. Upon waking, she had much more pressing troubles.

“My eyelashes hurt,” she bemoaned, sitting with Lee outside the clubhouse five hours later, both drinking very large, very strong coffees while they waited for their first customer to drop his bike off with them. “I haven’t felt this bad since my thirtieth, when we finished that bottle of mandarin vodka between ourselves.”

Indeed, Emma’s birthday had been a blast, but god, how she and Lee had suffered for it. EZ had found them passed out on top of his trailer, taking a combined effort from him, Guero and Bishop while also wasted to get them down again.

At the mere memory of orange vodka, Lee heaved suddenly, placing her coffee down and rushing back into the clubhouse, passing Bottles as he exited.

“You look remarkably fresh for someone who moved to sambuca at 2am,” she groaned, the bespectacled man beaming.

“I don’t get hangovers.” His statement earned him a scowl. “So, where’s G unit?” he then asked.

“Still asleep. He’ll be down a little later. I take it you didn’t even go home?”

Just then, the clubhouse door opened, revealing a girl with long, bright blue hair and a shaved side, tickling Bottles on the neck with her fingernails, turning to wink at Emma before she sauntered away, swinging her hips seductively.

He pointed with a grin. “Woke up between the pool table and her.”

She immediately thrust her fist forth. “Gimme some knucks!”

“Between that and the funky assed temper, you’re getting just like Lee,” he chuckled, obliging her with a fist bump.

A little prickle sharpened against her gut about the temper comment, thinking to herself that it wasn’t Lee whom she’d resembled last night as she’d wielded Angel’s knife. One thing Guero had told her rang true, though. She was not Rocco, and she had to emphatically remind herself of that.

Smiling, she responded casually. “Eh, I learned from the best.” The best arrived back after a few minutes, looking a little green, taking a seat with a groan.

“Please don’t tell me it’s today we gotta go to Tahoe,” she pleaded, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder. “I can’t cope!”

“No, buddy. Guero booked us for tomorrow, remember?”

“Remember? I don’t remember anything after you pulling a knife on that fuckin’ little tramp,” she groaned, Emma kissing her forehead as she made further noises of discontent, Lee then turning her attention to Bottles. “And why do you look so goddamned spritely? How fuckin’ dare you when I feel like my liver is packing up to leave! It’s outta here, on vacay, leaving me to die a death!”

He pushed his glasses up his nose, still beaming widely. “Got laid better than a roll of linoleum.”

His analogy cracked them up, Lee lighting herself a cigarette, taking a deep breath. ��Well, at least you got some. I was too hammered to get a hammering! I’d say I’d never do it again, but I’ll have to be drunk just to sleep next to Gilly. Dude doesn’t snore, he fuckin’ whistles when he’s asleep. I’m surprised he doesn’t wake up every morning to a pack of dogs out on his fuckin’ front lawn.”

Much to Lee’s light chagrin, the only rooms available were doubles, meaning she and the big man had to share a bed. Bishop had made it even worse for her by jokingly telling her she could have a hall pass, mortifying the hell out of her since she looked at Gilly like a younger brother. The two men had nearly split their sides laughing as she’d hid her face in her hands.

“I still don’t know how the hell we’re meant to find out the room Vincent will be staying in when we get there,” Emma sighed, while they chatted about their upcoming visit. “I mean, what, one of us attracts the front desk person while the other tries to get a look at the computer screen?”

“Or you just get somebody with the right set of skills to hack into the hotel’s booking system, and there you have your room number,” Bottles chirped, his face brightening more by the second. “I am that person, in case you two are too hungover for nuance.”

They sat up like a pair of meerkats, very curious over the information presented to them. “I’d completely fuckin’ forgotten that, that you’re a genius with the ole’...” Lee trailed off, making a typing motion with her fingers.

He cocked his head, looking pleased with himself. “I’d say somebody should’ve brought it to me last night prior to you guys booking hotel rooms for longer than necessary, but I was too deep in blue haired babe heaven, and everyone was wasted. Is what it is.” One short trip to fetch his gear later, and the three of them were sitting at the bar, Bottles tapping away.

“Okay, Hyatt Regency,” he muttered, eyes scanning the screen as streams of data moved across it, imputing more numbers and codes. “And enter this here, and... yep... mmhmm... bingo. I’m in.” He began to study the long list of names, Emma going behind the bar and pouring herself a shot of tequila, needing to see if hair of the dog worked. “Got it. Calabrese, room three zero seven.” He then continued to look down the list. “Lombardi, room five four two, just an FYI. Where are your rooms?”

“Ten and thirty-three, so we’re not even on the same floor. Phew.” Emma confirmed, breathing a sigh of relief. They didn’t even need to use the elevator, with them being on the ground floor. Inside though, her worry began to slowly coil around itself, like a viper constricting upon its prey.

Ten months ago, she’d escaped the clutch of the mafia, and now there she was, putting herself right back within their proximity. She just had to hope that the many tentacles of the hydra did not notice her presence, especially not the biggest of them all.

#guero mayans mc #guero mayans mc fanfiction #guerl fanfiction #mayans mc #mayans mc fanfiction #guero smut #guero x ofc #mayans mc fanfic #mayans mc fic #mayans mc season 5

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starshideyourfics · 2 years ago

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You Are Here - part 1

September 11, 2001 — Gander, Newfoundland, Canada

“Sorry, is this seat open?”

Eddie’s head snaps up, putting aside his book. They’ve been sitting on the tarmac in the middle of nowhere for hours, long enough that the sun has set, with no one explaining exactly why, and it’s not like he has much of his book left. It was supposed to last well-past when he landed in Chicago, but that wasn’t gonna happen, so he’s not that irritated at being interrupted.

He’s even less irritated when he sees that the question asker is the most beautiful man he’s even seen: golden skin dotted with moles, thick chestnut hair highlighted by the summer sun, a pointed Roman nose supporting wire-rimmed glasses, all wrapped up in charcoal slacks and a periwinkle button-down.

After his brain finishes short-circuiting, Eddie snaps his dangling mouth shut, composes himself, and says, “Sorry, can you repeat that? It’s been a weird day,” Eddie asks.

The man gives a weak chuckle. “It really has. Sorry, it’s just that after they started giving out free booze, things have gotten rowdy in the back and I’ve got case files I need to go over.” To emphasize his point, he holds up a briefcase and shrugs.

“Yeah, sure, go ahead,” Eddie says, moving his bag out of the empty seat next to him. He feels like an idiot, but at least Jeff and Frankie are sleeping behind him and unable to witness his flailing. And he’s pretty sure Gareth is one of the loud drunks at the back if their most recent singalong is anything to go by—it explains the short Iron Maiden interlude. But it means his bandmates aren’t giving him shit for his brain turning to mush in the face of this beautiful normie.

“Thanks,” the guy says, slipping into the seat and holding out his hand, “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Eddie. Glad I could offer you refuge in this trying time.” His heart jumps when Steve full-on giggles at his lame joke.

But Steve sobers pretty quickly. “I just wish someone would tell us what’s happening. I’ve got my cellphone, and a handful of international minutes left, but I’d guess we’re too far away from any cell towers out here anyway… Have you heard anything up here in business class?” And isn’t that the real kick in the head? Eddie Munson is sitting in Business Class on an international flight after his band went on their first European tour, wearing ripped black jeans and a ratty old hoodie since he always gets cold when he flies, and Steve is clearly some kind of lawyer or banker or something sitting back in economy. And yet, here they are.

“The flight attendants have been whispering together, and the pilots have been out of the cockpit a couple times, but they’re doing a really good job keeping it all hush-hush. It’s not like there’s much we can do being stranded out here with a bunch of other planes. I’m sure you won’t get in trouble with your boss,” Eddie says, testing the waters and fishing for information.

“Oh, no, I’m not worried about that. I don’t have any court dates too soon.” Yes, totally right about the lawyer thing, Eddie thinks. “It’s just, my partner was flying today, too, back home from Boston. I hope she’s not all tangled up in this.” And he’s straight and in a relationship, of course, Eddie adds, because there’s no way a guy as good-looking as Steve isn’t pinned down. That doesn’t stop Eddie from checking his left hand and finding no ring.

“Sorry, that sucks. Everyone I know flying today is on this plane with me,” Eddie says softly with a gesture over his shoulder at his sleeping friends. “Our manager is probably freaking out right now, so hopefully we get back in the air soon. Or they let us off, and we can work together to track down a phone.”

“I’d like that,” Steve says with a smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

Just then, a flight attendant comes over the intercom and says, “Ladies and Gentlemen, we have finally been cleared to deplane. You may take your carryon items; checked luggage will remain in the hold. The flight crew will be handing out blankets and pillows as you exit the plane.”

Eddie and Steve turn to each other with wide eyes. “Guess it’s time to track down that phone,” Steve says, worry and hope warring in his expression.

And Eddie can’t help it—hates seeing that worry, knows it all too well from growing up in an unstable home—and he takes Steve’s hand and says, “It’ll be okay. There’s gotta be a bank of pay phones in there. And maybe someone will finally tell us what’s going on.” He squeezes Steve’s fingers.

Steve squeezes back.

part 2

#steddie #stanger things #ficlet #the Come From Away AU no one asked for #except for me!#I’ll steddiefy all the musicals #steve harrington #eddie munson #part 2 coming when the inspiration strikes #so hopefully soon #fanfic #CW: 9/11

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love-kurdt · 10 months ago

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This is Me Trying (Mike's Version) (byler): 1

word count: 6,469

warnings for this chapter: lots of sexual content!! underage drinking, mentions of drug use, roofie mention bc college, internalized homophobia, maaaajooorrrr depression. this is semi-autobiographical so pls be kind <3

in short: if you are emotionally or mentally vulnerable, please dni.

If someone were to ask me what time it was, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. First off, I would look down at my watch and realize that said watch was not on my wrist. I would then ask myself why my watch was not on my wrist, then I would remember, oh yeah, Will has a matching one, and I was dead to Will, so I didn’t wear the watch anymore. Time was just a construct, anyway. In the end, I’d probably mess around with the person asking and say some shit like, “It’s 420:69.” I was drunk, though, so I was allowed.

I was at some frat party, spending what was my last official night as a student at the University of Indianapolis with the brotherhood of Alpha Lambda Dickhole. I was seated on some musty couch, stained with whatever the fuck that was, with an empty glass resting between my legs and a bottle of whiskey in my hand. I’d given up some time ago on trying to pace myself. Some kind of synth-infused rock music vibrated across the floor, and I could feel the bass reverberating in my bones, which would normally make me want to get up and dance, but I wasn’t particularly in a celebratory mood; I was only halfway through my sophomore year, and had just dropped out.

It wasn’t like I hadn’t seen this coming. I had been spiraling for a long time. It all started over summer break between my senior year of high school and my freshman year of college. I never even wanted to go to college in the first place. What was the point of spending tens of thousands of dollars on a creative writing degree when I could just freelance and eventually get published? But my father insisted that I at least attend a state school with cheaper tuition, claiming, “You can’t run on ink and espresso, son. You have to put in the work and have the credentials to show for it.” On the bright side, it was a miracle that Dad had enough confidence in me to allow me to pursue writing at all. But I was on thin ice with my father, had been for years, so I agreed to at least think about college.

My friends chose their respective schools fairly quickly; Dustin had gotten in with a full ride scholarship to Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Max and Lucas went to UCLA as sports science and physical therapy double majors, El went to Vanderbilt University in Nashville to pursue a degree in therapy, and Will… Will went to Chicago. Which school he went to, or if he went to college at all, I didn’t know. To study what, I had no clue. Where he lived within the city, I hadn’t the slightest idea. That’s what happens when your ex-best friend up and leaves without so much as a “goodbye.” I considered the day Will left to be the day my world stopped turning and time froze. So I took off my watch and hid it in a shoebox under my bed with the rest of my mini-shrine.

Dr. Owens and his team had arranged government-mandated counseling for all of those involved in the Vecnapocalypse. A year in, though, I didn’t see a point in going anymore. I was healed. I was fine. I was ready to move on with my life. Well, everyone else in the Party was ready to move on. Why wouldn’t I be? It probably hadn’t been the best decision on my part to stop going to therapy, but without Will in my life, I didn’t have much of a reason to stay in Hawkins at all, and I really didn’t feel like dredging up my past once a week to pick apart as if I were in an anatomy lab practical. Besides, I didn’t feel like arguing anymore with my dad. So, I begrudgingly packed my bags and headed to Indianapolis, killing two birds with one stone.

When I got to campus, I was assigned to dorm with this guy named Elvis (yes, as in Presley). Aside from his stupid ass name, Elvis Kuiken was a good roommate. He was a senior who kept to himself most days, when he wasn’t working. He was clean, at least by my standards (which were on the floor, literally and figuratively speaking), and he was also part of a fraternity. He’d always bring me along to parties, all in the name of the formative freshman experience. What this “experience” primarily entailed, I came to find out, was alcohol. Weed, too, no doubt… but extra emphasis on alcohol.

I didn’t want to admit it, at least not to others, but I became a lot more withdrawn since my falling out with Will. I wasn’t as outgoing, as daring, or as extroverted as I used to be. I was used to being an outcast of sorts, so not much changed there. Except now, where I used to have the confidence to at least approach people and introduce myself– “Hi, I’m Michael! Do you want to be my friend?” “Yes.”– I couldn’t do that anymore. It was like my communicational skills had completely disappeared. But during my first party, I took a shot of tequila and must’ve made at least ten acquaintances within the three hours I was there. If only Troy could see how popular I was now. He’d piss his pants… again. It was like a light flickered on in my head; the more I drank, the more sociable I’d become. I took this epiphany and ran with it.

One time back in— September?— or something, I had been at a party for a few hours, and came up with the idea to try every single type of liquor to ever exist. I picked up a shot glass and stood at the counter for a good fifteen minutes, downing shot after shot. I woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache, unsure of how I even got back to my dorm room. But then I looked to my right and saw Elvis’s head resting on my very shirtless, hickey-covered chest. Oh. That’s how I got home. I wasn’t able to wear any shirts with collars below my clavicle for days. I didn’t hate it, though. In fact, that wasn’t the last time my roommate and I hooked up. Stumbling through the door, making out in the dark, and whispering each other’s names into otherwise complete silence until the sun came up became a regular occurrence.

Christmas break arrived, and most of my time back in Hawkins was spent trying to avoid Will. And from the way I saw it, Will was everywhere. He was the art on my bedroom wall. He was the yellow sweater that hung in my closet, probably the only colorful item in my entire wardrobe that I hadn’t thrown out, because it was Will’s sweater. He was the shea butter soap on the bathroom counter. He was the hot cocoa mix in the kitchen cabinet. He was the D&D box buried underneath my bed that I neglected since Eddie’s death in 1986. He was the Party. So I didn’t leave my basement for the entirety of mid-December to the beginning of January, with the exceptions of family dinners and sleep. I won’t lie, I was a little bit ashamed of how I’d handled things with the Party. I definitely shouldn’t have iced everyone out. My friends made various attempts to get the Party back together, and always invited me, but I’d always have some kind of excuse as to why I couldn’t hang out with them. They eventually stopped calling.

One Saturday afternoon, I was sprawled out on the couch watching Star Wars: Episode VI– Return of the Jedi, and Nancy and Jonathan came barrelling in through the basement entrance, practically swallowing each other whole. I missed the feeling of being in love. I’d cleared my throat when it started to get a bit too steamy, causing the lovebirds to jump apart in shock. Nancy smoothed her skirt while Jonathan lifted a hand into the air to greet me. I nodded back in acknowledgement. This silent interaction had me wanting to crawl out of my skin. All I wanted to do was ask Jonathan about Will; how Will was, what Will was doing, if Will had met anyone, if Will remembered me. It was like Jonathan could read my mind, because he said, completely unprompted, “He still thinks about you, Mike. He hasn’t forgotten you.” I actively committed those words to memory.

I ran into Joyce during a last minute school supplies shopping trip to Melvald’s on my way out of town. It was bound to happen at some point, what with Joyce owning Melvald’s now. I’d expected it to be awkward, but was proven wrong when Joyce practically jumped the counter to engulf me, her honorary third son, in a hug. She’d pulled me all the way down to her level, so I was bent at almost a 90 degree angle, but I didn’t care.

“How’ve you been, sweetheart? How’s Indy treating you?” she asked. That was a loaded question. It would be spectacular if your son hadn’t left, but whatever.

“It’s treating me well, I’m mostly taking my gen eds right now, but I’m always writing my own material when I’m not in class,” I grinned, trying my best to not let it look fake or forced. Joyce seemed to buy it.

“I’m so glad to hear that. You know, I always knew you were going to become a writer,” Joyce smiled, and I nodded, staying as neutral as possible. I knew where she was going with this. “I remember it as if it were yesterday,” bingo, “that in the mornings after your sleepovers, you and Will would sit at the dining room table with your eggs and maple syrup and work on your comics for hours. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah,” I replied wistfully, “I do.” I glanced down at my shoes, trying not to let any tears escape. The amount of crying over Will that I’d done just within the time I was back home was pathetic. But Joyce didn’t seem to mind in the least, because she reached up and ran her thumbs over my cheeks, where a few stray tears had traveled down against my will.

“Oh, honey,” Joyce held my face in her hands, eyes filled with compassion, and pulled me into another hug, holding me close. I had always loved Joyce, but this mutual understanding led me to reserve a special place in my heart for her.

We engaged in a little more small talk before she personally walked (dragged) me through the store with my shopping list to retrieve the items I needed. When she checked out my items at the counter, she grabbed a pen and post-it note, wrote something on it, and handed it to me. I held it up to eye level with a shaky hand.

“That’s Will’s phone number, he’s at the American Academy of Art,” she whispered. My eyes widened, and I breathed, “Thank you, Ms. Byers. So much,” before heading out the door to my car. I sat in the parking lot for a solid fifteen minutes, causing myself to fall behind schedule, but I had Will’s phone number. That was a good enough reason to be late, in my book.

After what felt like a fucking eternity, I was finally able to return to campus. I’d set my suitcase down next to my bed, and took a minute to collect my thoughts prior to unpacking. All of a sudden, Elvis clumsily tripped over his own feet through the door, sheepishly grinning at me, having just been startled. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks, followed by a quiet, “hi.” Seconds later, we were all over each other.

It was around this time that I finally came to terms with the undeniable fact that I was exclusively attracted to men. I’d always believed my sexual preferences existed as a strict ratio of 70:30, with 70% being women and 30% being men. I’d always been aware of my attraction to guys (Will); I’d been sure of that for as long as I could remember. The confusing part about it all was when El came into the picture, and everyone and their mother expected us to start dating. I was, like, twelve at the time, so of course I went along with what everyone else wanted. That backfired majorly when El confronted me with tears in her eyes, asking, “But… you don’t love me anymore?” and my impulse response was, “I don’t even think I loved you romantically to begin with.” It took a long time for me and El to repair our friendship following that conversation, and to help me bullshit my parents into falling for some half-baked reason as to why my “sweetie pie” and I broke up so suddenly.

When I started my… situationship with Elvis, though, I began to question my 70:30 ratio. Elvis, to put it simply, was hot. He was taller than me, just by an inch, but it didn’t stop him from calling me “short.” I found that hilarious, as I stood at a staggering six foot three. Elvis had tanned skin, blonde hair which he kept in a preppy side part, and bright eyes that captured the essence of the bluest sky. He had full lips, a chiseled jawline, and a lean yet muscular build with the likeness of a Greek statue. Elvis had the most gorgeous hands. I particularly liked when those hands pinned my wrists above my head. I also liked when those blue eyes bore into my soul in the way that only one other pair of eyes had ever been able to do within my mere eighteen years of life. And I loved when that chiseled jawline, rough from lack of shaving, rubbed abrasively against my neck.

Elvis was adamant on there being no strings attached. He made sure to remind me every time we did anything remotely sexual, but over time, those words began to lose their potency, like watering down vodka to make it go down smoother. My wide eyes and “yes, of course, I understand”s were slowly replaced with absentminded “mmhmm”s. I figured that as long as Elvis never picked up on my social cues (or lack thereof), and as long as he never knew about me secretly developing more-than-fuck-buddies feelings for him, I would be in the clear. But eventually, something in Elvis had melted away, and he started calling me “my boy,” “love,” and “sweetheart,” amongst other gross (sweet) pet names. I assumed that Elvis had caved and given up on whatever rules he’d set for himself.

Regardless of the apparent stability in our situationship, my mind dwelled in a constant state of disarray. I knew I was not straight. I wasn’t even sure if I was bisexual. I became more conscious of who caught my eye in public, and what I wanted out of the people I interacted with. I discovered I didn’t feel the same way about curves, boobs, or soft lips as I felt when I saw a pair of broad shoulders, a sharp jawline, or a tapered waistI felt different.

Part of me resented myself for being different. I hated the idea of being a target, whether it be for my family, the government, or society as a whole. I'd tried to change. I hooked up with a few girls over the course of a week, “just to see something,” but I'd spent the entire time wondering when it would be over so I could go home. All of those girls either got bored, weren’t satisfied, or got mad that I couldn’t get it up— if not a combination of all three— and left. I scared myself a little when I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty.

When my encounter with the last girl fell through, I decided I didn’t want to live my life in sexuality limbo anymore. I ran all the way back to my dorm hall, hauled ass up the stairwell, and let myself into my room. Elvis spun around from where he sat at his desk, and could barely get out a “Hey, man,” before I was ripping Elvis from his chair and pulling him in, kissing him with all my might. It didn’t take long for Elvis to reciprocate my advances, kissing back with equal intensity and pushing me back until we hit the side of Elvis’s raised bed frame. I huffed a laugh against Elvis’s lips before hoisting myself up backwards and onto the mattress, watching as Elvis chased after me. He pushed his knee between my legs, and I took the hint, wrapping my ankles around Elvis’s hips. “I want to be with you, baby. With strings, all the strings,” I had told Elvis before pulling him down for another searing kiss, and… that was when my memory cut out for the evening.

I woke up the next morning, hangover hitting me like a truck, to see Elvis already awake and dressed, lifting boxes onto a trolley that was stationed in the middle of the room. Through squinted eyes, I noticed Elvis’s side of the room was essentially bare, save for the dorm furniture, which belonged to the school.

“What’s happening?” I croaked out, and Elvis dropped the box he was holding onto the pile with a loud thump. “Too loud. Headache,” I whispered sharply through gritted teeth.

“It always is too loud, isn’t it?” my roommate laughed wryly to himself, not making any effort to be any quieter. I sat up, rubbing my eyes and ignoring the fact that I was naked and in Elvis’s bed, the only thing that hadn’t been packed up yet.

“What the fuck, Elvis? What are you doing?”

“I’m moving out today, remember?” The two young men finally gained eye contact, and I felt my stomach drop like I was on a roller coaster. “I’m graduating in a few days and need my stuff out by this afternoon.”

Move out was today? Vecna must have been back with a vengeance, because how else would time move so quickly on its own? Sure, Elvis mentioned in passing, like, a few weeks ago, at most, that he was leaving soon. But it still didn’t make sense, because it was only… What, March? No, The Phone Call™ was a while ago. Was it April? My mom called me at least a few weeks prior to wish me a happy nineteenth birthday. Plus, weren’t commencement ceremonies scheduled for the weekend of– “What’s today’s date?”

I watched the blonde in front of me unsubtly scoff with impatience. “It’s May 1st, Mike.” I could only blink back at Elvis in response for a few seconds while I tried to process the fact that my brain was capable of skipping over whole months of my life. There was no way it was May 1st already.

“No,” was the only word I was capable of saying.

“Yet here we are, baby,” Elvis sneered as he whipped his comforter off of me, leaving me exposed and humiliated. “Time flies when you’re blackout drunk. I suggest you try and get your drinking under control, before you end up having to drop out.”

It was like Elvis was a completely different person, completely different from the man who had fucked me senseless the night before. What did I do to deserve this? I didn’t do or… say anything? Oh no. Now I knew what was going on. I drank too much, opened up, and blurted out loud that I wanted to be in a relationship with Elvis, who didn’t feel the same. my face was on fire with embarrassment.

I scrambled off the bed and ran to get dressed while Elvis pulled the last of his sheets off the cheap university mattress. He didn’t fold them, and instead balled them up and shoved them in the trash. I could barely breathe. I merely stood there and watched as my gorgeous Greek (actually Dutch) god of a roommate left our shared room for the last time. Well, I seemingly dodged a bullet. What an asshole.

I was sad that Elvis was gone, but it didn’t completely destroy me the way Will leaving did. What it most likely came down to, in Elvis’s instance, was a horrible case of internalized homophobia. I was very familiar with this mindset; I'd fought a gory, gruesome battle with my own mind for my entire adolescence, at war with myself to prevent acting upon my ever-growing romantic love for Will. But one day, my feelings finally retaliated, and my life immediately went to shit.

“What are you doing, Mike? Is this a joke?”

“No, Will, I’m in love with you.”

“Don’t say that. Please don’t say that. You don’t mean it.”

Comparing the two inevitably led to some old memories resurfacing to haunt me, but I felt strangely lucky. I'd been let off easily. Despite the way I stood completely stupefied in my dorm room, I knew this was temporary, and had full confidence that I'd be able to recover from this pretty quickly. Said confidence was probably the only thing that saved me from losing my mind. Well, that, and the pressure to pass my classes distracted me for a few days. Without having done much studying at all, I army crawled through my finals and barely made it out alive.

About a week later, I moved out of my dorm hall and into an apartment about two miles away from campus. It was a pretty nice place, considering the rent he (my father) paid for it. I got a job at the local coffee shop… which I lost before the month was up, because he never showed up to my shifts. I'd been shocked when Ted insisted upon co-signing the lease, because I didn’t think my dad would be willing to help me stay away from Hawkins. On the other hand, though, it made sense when Ted told me flat out that he wanted me out of the house. I didn’t blame him; I'd been referred to by my father as a “leech” on multiple occasions during my stay over Christmas break, which pretty much tracked. I felt a little guilty about that one.

I appreciated the independence, I truly did. It was a great feeling to have my own room again, to have a more comfortable desk chair to sit at while I drew up plans for a new fantasy novel starring a gay protagonist, to have a bathroom to myself, and most importantly, to have a full-sized refrigerator to fill with all the alcohol I could ever want. But sometimes, late at night, I would catch myself getting a bit too sad.

The entire summer was an endless cycle. I would wake up and make a pot of coffee. I'd sit down and write a chapter or two of my book, and stick to doing that for a few hours. I would check the time (on my wall clock, of course) and take a lunch break, which was usually a box of Annie’s shells and white cheddar. After I'd haphazardly tossed my singular bowl and fork into the sink to be washed later, I'd go back to writing. This wouldn’t last long, because I'd get distracted after smoking a joint, and probably end up staring at that one photo of myself and Will from senior year (Jonathan captured the moment: I had, by some miracle, perched myself up on Will’s handlebars, and Will struggled to hold his bike steady because I was laughing too hard) that sat framed on my desk. I'd snap out of my trance ten minutes later and mentally kick myself for staring for so long, which led to grabbing some form of alcohol and getting wasted, like all my potential. I would make one last attempt at writing and fail miserably. I'd stumble into the shower, and drag myself through my apartment until I found my bed. Most nights, I would end up crying myself to sleep, staring at The Painting™, which I'd tacked up on my bedroom ceiling as a form of self-punishment. It was a sad way to live, really. So I vowed that when the school year started up again, things would be different.

That was how I ended up at the library in late July, browsing the mythology section, squinting at titles printed on spines while my lips formed a straight, thin line. I knew I was officially a hermit when even the library gave me social anxiety. I'd just pulled a rather old looking book off the shelf when a tenor voice behind me caught me off guard.

“Never thought I’d see the day that book would leave the shelf. You must’ve had to brush off, like, a hundred years’ worth of dust just to get to the cover.” I twisted around to put a face to a voice, and was pleasantly surprised when I met eyes with a short guy (well, to me he was short; he was probably, like, 5’9”) with dyed, firetruck red hair that fell over his forehead in a sweeping motion. I liked how he wasn’t afraid to be bold.

“You’re definitely right about that,” I smirked, setting the book down and watching as the growing pile teetered from side to side on the table’s surface. I couldn’t decide where I wanted my story to go next, let alone if I wanted to continue with my current plot at all, so I'd planned on taking a bit of inspiration from… well, everything.

“So you’re into mythology?” the guy asked, and I shoved my hands in my pockets, leaning against the bookshelf as I focused my gaze down. He had pretty eyes. They were hazel, but not too green, not like–

“Yeah, I’m a creative writing major, and I’m trying to expand my horizons a little,” I replied, sitting down at the table. “Like, not to discount the genius of Tolkein, because he literally founded my childhood, but sometimes it’s good to go back to the basics and draw inspiration from there.”

The guy shrugged, and sat across the table from me. “Nothing wrong with that. I think it’s really smart, actually. Or else stories end up getting repetitive and dull.”

“Exactly!” I pointed both index fingers in the guy’s direction, as if to say, “Finally, someone who understands!” I struggled with this concept lately; the uniqueness factor. It turned out that having a male protagonist who just so happened to be romantically attracted to other males wasn’t enough reason to get a book to sell. I needed something else, something of substance, and something that wouldn’t remind readers of other books they’d previously read. “Are you into writing as well?”

“No,” the guy shyly smiled, “I’m just into guys who write about mythology.” Pardon? Was this masculine male-dude-man hitting on me? In public? I wasn’t complaining, but I hadn’t necessarily picked up on any hints. Although, the dyed hair should’ve been a dead giveaway.

“Oh. Um, I– wow, okay,” I stuttered, diverting my eyes to my books for a few seconds to process what was being said before returning to an expectant pair of hazel eyes still looking right at me. “I’m Mike, Mike Wheeler.”

“Wyatt Bowman.”

I cleared my throat. “Are you free in an hour, Wyatt?”

“Yeah, why?” Wyatt raised an eyebrow, causing me to huff a nervous laugh, tapping my Ticonderoga pencil against my spiral-bound notebook at the same speed my knee bounced up and down underneath the table.

“I just gotta take some notes from here, then I was thinking we could… hang out, or something?” I glanced up hopefully at Wyatt.

The corners of Wyatt’s mouth curved upwards as he repeated, “Or something?”

I nodded, confirming our silent sub-conversation.

“Cool. That sounds like a good plan,” Wyatt said, tapping his fingers on the edge of the table as he rose out of the seat and headed for the exit.

“Cool,” I whispered back, reminiscent of a certain afternoon in a certain town in California in a certain room with a certain boy that made me feel a certain way. But that was the past, and I believed I was ready for the future.

When I started seeing Wyatt Bowman, we’d established that our relationship would not be serious. We were, in a small amount of words, friends with benefits. And we were actually friends. We could hang out without getting all hot and heavy. And I didn’t have any objections; I actually preferred the idea of friends who sometimes had sex over the label-less, no strings arrangement that Elvis and I had. It left less room for loopholes of chronic insecurity and self sabotage. It also, in turn, left more room for exploration.

I met Wes Butler in August at my first ever visit to an actual bar. I'd been sitting at the counter with a few of my female friends (Ruby, Alexis, and Julia), and had just received one of the fruitiest cocktails I'd ever tasted when a piece of eye candy, who might as well have been dressed in nothing, lightly tapped my shoulder and asked me to dance. Of course the girls encouraged me, not really giving me an option in the matter, but hey, good dick was good dick. It didn’t really turn into much else; once we’d had a few rounds of unnecessarily loud sex in a supply closet (ironic, but typical), I bid goodbye to my friends, tossing my condom wrappers in the trash on the way out.

I met another guy, Walker Brooks, in September at an off-campus nerd rave. He looked a lot like Eddie Munson, which may or may not have been coincidental. We left the party not even an hour after it began to go to Walker’s dorm. We fucked in between Lord of the Rings themed bedsheets, and I had to endure an excruciating hour and a half of Walker speaking Elvish rather than English. Afterwards, he invited me to join the University of Indy D&D Club, of which he was, of course, the Dungeon Master. I politely declined.

On a particularly difficult October night following being roofied followed by some unwanted advances, I slapped myself awake with one hand as I unsteadily held my handlebars with the other, biking back to my apartment. My grip slipped, and the front wheel hit the curb, which sent the bike to come to a screeching halt and throw me over the handlebars, tumbling onto the concrete. Warren Blakely, one of my classmates in English 101, watched me fall, stopped me from biking again before I hurt myself even more, and asked me what exactly had happened. Once I told Warren what had gone down, he wouldn’t let me out of his sight. Over the next two months or so, Warren kept me safe and let me take control back over my own life. Warren and I had a special bond. If I didn’t still love Will, and if I didn’t have such extreme trust issues, I would have absolutely dated Warren if provided the chance. But I couldn’t, not until I got over Will, so I ended things with Warren. This specific relationship put things into perspective for me. In the end, none of these men I slept with would ever be Will Byers. So I'd either have to get over Will, or find someone better.

On the nights I wasn’t at parties, I was at my desk, writing letters to Will. It was kind of cathartic, honestly. I'd rip a piece of college ruled paper out of my notebook, just like old times, and write letter after letter saying things along the lines of:

Dear Will, I’m sorry. I love you. I’m sorry that I love you. I’m sorry I did what I did to you. And I’m sorry I can’t take it back. I wish we could be best friends again. I wish we could have late night walkie conversations like we used to. I want nothing more than to play D&D in the basement with you for the rest of our lives. Love, Mike

These occasional letters became a part of my nightly routine… whenever I wasn’t too fucked up to focus my eyes on my own handwriting. And recently, it was more often than not that I couldn’t actually fall asleep without drinking. I wasn’t even of legal age yet, and wouldn’t be for another two years.

I stopped attending my classes halfway through the semester, so it wasn’t a surprise when my grades plummeted. My mailbox became inundated with letters from the registrar’s office, advising me to withdraw from the classes I was failing before the pass/fail deadline, but I couldn’t care less; so, not only did I fail out of my classes, but I couldn’t even retake the classes even if I wanted to, because my record forced me into the red zone. And the entire time, I couldn’t feel a thing.

If someone were to ask me what time it was, I wouldn’t be able to tell them. First off, I would look down at my watch and realize that said watch was not on my wrist. I would then ask myself why my watch was not on my wrist, then I would remember, oh yeah, Will has a matching one, and I was dead to Will, so I didn’t wear the watch anymore. Time was just a construct, anyway. In the end, I'd probably mess around with the person asking and say some shit like, “It’s 420:69.” I was drunk, though, so I was allowed.

I was at some frat party, spending what was my last official night as a student at the University of Indianapolis with the brotherhood of Alpha Lambda Dickhole. I was seated on some musty couch, stained with whatever the fuck that was, with an empty glass resting between my legs and a bottle of whiskey in my hand. I'd given up some time ago on trying to pace myself. Some kind of synth-infused rock music vibrated across the floor, and I could feel the bass reverberating in my bones, which would normally make me want to get up and dance, but I wasn’t particularly in a celebratory mood; I was only halfway through my sophomore year, and had just dropped out.

“Hey, by any chance do you know the time?” a deep voice asked, and I lifted my gaze up from my lap to a muscular brunette. I blinked a few times in an attempt to form a coherent sentence.

“I, uh– I don’t—” I stuttered, lifting my bare, watch-less wrist up to show to the guy, who merely lifted an unserious eyebrow and chuckled. He took my hand in his and let it down gently before sitting next to me on the couch.

“It’s all good, man. I was just using that as a reason to talk to you.”

I was surprised someone clocked me that quickly. But then again, I was wearing insanely tight jeans that I'd cut right above the knee paired with a floral print shirt. I wasn’t exactly being subtle. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” the guy laughed, extending a rough, calloused hand. Did he lift weights? Or play guitar? Or both? “I’m Carter, by the way.” At least his name didn’t begin with a W. Or maybe it did, but the W was silent. Wcarter. Ouah-carter. Wah-carter. Double-you-carter. Dub-yuh-Carter. Cart… Chart… Astrological chart. I made a mental note to check my horoscope. What was I thinking about originally? I couldn’t remember.

Jesus. I was hammered.

“I’m Mike,” I replied, taking the guy’s— Carter’s— hand, but Carter didn’t shake it. He instead let our fingers intertwine, anticipatorily slow. Okay. I could be good with this.

“Do you maybe want to get out of here, Mike?” Carter asked, and I felt a blush rising to my face.

“Sure, yeah,” I breathed, and let Carter pull me up out of my sunken spot on the couch, down some hallway, and into an empty bedroom. I scoped out the place and noticed a photo of Carter with a dog framed on the desk; this was his room. I exhaled in relief. I didn’t want to have sex in someone else’s bed. Never again.

Carter pulled the door closed and locked it, turning around to face me before looking me up and down. I gulped. I hadn’t realized before, because it was so dark, but in the lamplight, Carter’s resemblance to Will was uncanny. He was a few inches shorter than me, and had a muscular build– that much I knew already. Thank god he didn’t have a bowl cut. He had a strong jawline but a subtle softness to his features. His lips were a light pink, the upper one a bit thinner than the lower one. The most similar feature they shared, though, was their bright green eyes, full of life, and something else I couldn’t name… intention? Vulnerability? Yearning?

In my inebriated state, I didn’t notice how close Carter had gotten until I felt two hands snaking their way up my shoulders and joining behind my neck, pulling me down until our lips met. I couldn’t move fast enough, lifting my shaking hands to rest on Carter’s waist, pulling him into my chest and deepening the kiss immediately. Carter was more languid in his movements, while I was more firm and calculated; this felt strangely antithetical. It probably had to do something with my increased tolerance. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, but if there was one person who knew how to repress their feelings with a series of bad decisions, it was me. Mike Wheeler. My life was already on fire, what more could possibly happen to exacerbate the flame?

The two of us made our way over to Carter’s bed, where we quickly undressed. Carter kissed down my body, and I ran my hands through Carter’s hair. Then he went down on me without warning.

“Ah!” I yelped in surprise, my exclamation becoming a moan almost instantaneously. This was good. This felt nice. This is exactly what I’d imagine–

“Will…”

“Excuse me?”

And with that, the night was over. Carter stopped what he was doing, got up, muttered a “fuck you,” and left without another word. I felt the world zeroing in on me. I could just picture what I’d write in my next letter:

Dear Will,

I said your name while another guy had my dick in his mouth. Do you believe me now?

Love, Mike

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imagineabuttercream · 2 years ago

Text

CAMPING (JOSH X READER) CHAPTER 3

After your short hike back, you and Joe got the fire going again. "What should we make for dinner?" Joe asked.

"I vote we grill burgers and veggies. Super easy and we have loads of supplies." you replied. "Easy to clean up, too."

"Perfect. And of course, alcohol. We need to pick another game, though. I don't think there are many Never Have I Ever questions left that don't reveal things we don't actually want to know." he laughed.

"Seriously. Truth or Dare?" you suggested. "I'll stay sober, though. I don't want to have to bandage up a drunk while I'm drunk."

"Truth or Dare is perfect. Even better if they don't know you're sober. We should probably take our turns cleaning up at the lake before we start drinking, though." Joe pointed out.

"Good plan. I don't think anyone fancies drowning."

Dinner went over without a hitch and you were starting your lake shifts. "I suggest that Caspar, Conor, and Jack go while it's still light out. You guys haven't been to the lake, so I'd rather you not get lost." Joe suggested.

Handing Caspar the shower caddy, you told them the quickest way to the lake. "Be safe!" you called out after them.

They returned about 40 minutes later looking much cleaner. Thankfully it was still light and warm out, so you told Joe, Oli, and Mikey to take the next shift.

"Are you sure you don't want to go first?" Joe asked for the third time. "Why are we making the girl go last?"

"Joe, I'm fine. I'd rather go last. Just be safe and hurry back." you checked that nothing in the caddy needed refilled.

Finally, it was your turn. "Hey Josh, they're back. Don't forget your towel and clean clothes." you said, grabbing your stuff. "We still have a bit of light, but we'll probably be walking back in the dark so grab a flashlight."

You started walking to the lake, but noticed Josh was still at the tent. "You coming?" you asked.

"Uh, yeah. Just a second." He dipped back in the tent and then joined you.

"How was the look-out?" you asked, trying to talk about anything but the fact that you were about to be naked together.

"It was beautiful. The lake actually goes all the way around the hill we were on." he replied.

"We'll have to make another trip up there for pictures before we leave." you suggested.

"Definitely. I know Conor wants to go back up and spend some time writing." Josh remembered.

Arriving at the lake, you pointed out the small wooden dock it would be easiest to bathe by. "Hey, I vote we both go in at the same time and just face opposite directions. Thoughts?" you suggested.

"Works for me. I promise you can trust me." Josh said, seeming really sincere.

Standing facing away from each other, you undressed, grabbed your shower stuff, and walked into the lake. "It's so cold!" he squeaked.

"You get used to it pretty quickly. Like a swimming pool." you laughed.

It felt great to finally wash your hair. You had just rinsed your hair when you looked up and saw how full the moon looked. You couldn't really see it until it had gotten dark. "Josh, look at the moon."

"But...Y/n I have to look towards you to see it." Josh said.

"Josh, It's dark outside and I'm all the way in the water. It's fine, just look!" you replied, wanting him to see how beautiful the whole scene looked. The moonlight lit the mountain ridge and the lake and it was just gorgeous.

You could feel the water ripple behind you, telling you Josh had turned. "It's beautiful." you said, still looking at the moon.

"Permission to be cheesy?" you heard Josh ask, his voice sounding a bit unsteady.

"You don't need permission." you quipped.

"You're prettier." was all he said.

Turning in the water to face him, he wasn't looking at the moon. He was looking at you. "Wow, sir. You went full cheese. Romantic setting, skinny dipping, full moon." you laughed, swimming towards him.

He laughed too, glad you didn't reject his compliment. "What can I say? I'm a cheesy guy." Realizing just how perfect your moment was, he added "I mean it, though. You're beautiful."

You swam until you were about a foot from him, still hidden in the water, you felt safe. "Thank you." you blushed, thankful for the darkness.

"I don't want to um...you know. Make things awkward. We're sharing a tent and we're great friends and I don't want to ruin..." Josh had gone into a full spiral of trying not to make you feel uncomfortable.

Realizing how anxious he was about this, you simply grabbed the soap and started moving your hands across his chest and shoulders. "Josh, calm down."

He stayed quiet with his eyes never leaving you while you slowly worked your hands over his torso. You pulled him flush against you while you did the same to his back, adding more soap. You felt his hands come to rest on your back and you felt a little braver.

"Here." you said, handing him the soap. Moving your hands to his back, again, you hoped he took the hint.

He lathered up his hands and slowly rubbed them over your shoulders and your back, but he never let his hands roam anywhere else. Making sure the soap was rinsed off of Josh, you turned in his arms, putting your back against his chest. Adding more soap to his hands, you felt him start to clean the skin of your stomach.

"I'm just going to come out with it." you said, his hands still on your stomach. "I really like you." His hands froze and your stomach dropped. "It's okay if you don't like me like that, Josh." you said starting to put some distance between your bodies.

His arms immediately closed around you and pulled you back to him. "Y/n, I think it's pretty obvious I like you. I just never plucked up the courage to do anything about it." he replied. "Please don't swim away." he asked.

Nodding your head, you let yourself relax back into his arms. He added more soap to his hands, slowly making his way further up your torso. "Is this okay?" he asked.

"Definitely." you replied, gasping a bit as his hands made their way to your breasts.

"I've liked you since I met you." he said, dipping his lips to meet your neck.

"Mmmm, same. You should have said something. I didn't know until Joe told me, and even then, I thought he was playing with me." you replied.

You had goose bumps all over your body. Partially from the cold, but mostly from feeling Josh's hands against your skin. "I'm sorry. I just didn't think you'd go for a guy like me. I also thought you liked Joe for the longest time." he responded.

You laughed, turning around to face him. "Joe is like my brother." You pulled yourself to Josh, throwing your arms around his neck. "And I quite like a guy like you." you said before chastely kissing him on the lips and swimming away. "Come on! They're going to come looking for us if we don't get back soon."

Swimming back to land, you realized you still had to get out of the lake completely naked.

"Hey, let me get out first and grab your towel for you." Josh said, climbing out of the water.

"You're the best." you replied, thankful you'd be warm soon. "And I have to say, I have a great view." you said, looking at Josh's naked ass.

"I aim to please." he laughed, drying off and throwing his sweats on. "Here." he stood near the water with your towel open in his arms.

You ran to the towel, hoping you didn't look horrible. "Thank you." you said, quickly covering up.

Putting his arms around you, Josh squashed your fears. "You're beautiful." he said, kissing you on the lips before finishing getting dressed.

After you were both ready to go, Josh threw you one of his sweatshirts. "This is what I went back in the tent for. I didn't want you to be cold."

"Awww. Thanks, love." you threw it on, loving that it smelled just like Josh.

Throwing his arm over your shoulder, you two hiked back to camp. By the time you arrived, the alcohol had already been broken out and everyone was sitting around the fire. "I'll drop our stuff off in our tent." Josh said, grabbing your bag from you.

"How was the water?" Joe asked.

"Perfect. The view is gorgeous too. Full moon and everything." you replied.

"Josh's white ass is a full moon." Jack mumbled to Conor.

"Well, I mean. I saw that too, but the actual moon was gorgeous." you laughed.

"What about my ass?" Josh asked as he found his seat next to you.

"Jack?" you laughed. "What were you saying about Josh's ass?"

"*cough* um, nothing. Nothing of the sort." he replied.

All of a sudden from above you all, you heard Oli reply. "Y/n said she saw a full moon, so Jack said 'Josh's ass is a full moon' and Y/n said she indeed saw your ass, but that the actual moon was also full." Looking up you saw Oli White sitting half way up a 30 foot tree.

"I take it you already started truth or dare?" you asked Joe with a stern face.

"About that...How do you climb down trees?" he replied, looking guilty.

"Hold tight, Oli." you said, looking at the tree. "Josh, can you give me a boost to that branch?"

"No problem." he said, hoisting you up.

Making your way to Oli, you told him how to get back down. Pointing at different branches and divots in the tree, you assured him he wouldn't fall as long as he didn't panic. "Josh, when he gets to the bottom branch, can you help him down?"

"I got you Oli." Josh reassured him.

Carefully making his way down the tree, Oli finally made it to the bottom and Josh got him safely to the ground. You were close behind him, still a bit mad at Joe for starting the shenanigans early.

"Thanks, love." you told Josh after being lowered to the ground. "Joe, I'm going to find a way to get you back." you fake threatened.

"I've been up there nearly a bloody half hour." Oli said, snuggling up to Mikey.

"I told you you'd be rescued." Mikey teased, throwing an arm around Oli.

"Well, whose turn is it?" you laughed at the pair.

"I think it's Conor's", Caspar said.

"Alright, y/n. Truth or dare." He asked you.

"Dare." you replied.

"I dare you to pick someone to take a body shot off of you."

"No problem. Josh? What are you drinking tonight?" you asked, seeing everyone's mouths drop open with how quickly and easily you picked.

"I think I'll try the Fireball." he said, grabbing the bottle.

Doing the body shot without hesitation, you and Josh quickly sat up and you looked around the group. "Alright, Caspar. Truth or dare."

"Wait, wait." said Joe.

"Holy shit." said Oli.

and "That was hot." said Jack.

"What?" you faked confusion.

"OOohhhhh, you and Josh hooked up at the lake!" Joe stood up with an accusatory pointed finger. "That's why you're not awkward anymore!"

You and Josh busted up laughing.

"Sorry boys, I don't kiss and tell." Josh said, putting his arm around you and pulling you closer to him.

"Well it's about bloody time!" Joe said. "And Caspar, you owe me twenty quid."

"I know, I know." he replied.

"Wait, you took bets?" you asked.

"I never thought Josh would grow a pair and ask you!" Caspar teased.

"I bet you two would end up together before we left for home." Joe added.

"Well I don't know what Josh thinks, but I hope that is where this is heading." you said, looking up at Josh.

"I was going to ask you to officially be my girlfriend on a romantic walk or something, but these losers kind of ruined my plan." Josh laughed, looking nervous. "So uh...Can we um..."

"Yes, Josh." you said, interrupting his nervous ramble. "I'd love to be your girlfriend." you pulled him into a kiss.

"YEAH!" "Oh, boy!" "Yeah, Buddy!" Cheers were heard all around the fire.

"Oh, hush. My cheeks hurt from laughing." you said, covering your blushy cheeks with your sweater covered hands. "Who's next?" you called out, continuing the Truth or Dare game.

That night ended much like the last, but you were sober. You were glad you'd stayed sober, actually. You wanted to wake up early again and it's better that you didn't feel like crap in the morning.

#josh pieters #josh pieters x reader #josh pieters fic #josh pieters imagine #the buttercream gang

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purplesurveys · 2 years ago

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1641

When was the last time you did something you didn’t want to do, to please someone else? It was like two Sundays ago when my mom thought my shirt was too short for church and told me to wear a jacket to cover up. I normally wouldn’t have had any problem complying, but what made it frustrating is that she regularly wears sleeveless tops to mass lol like what gives? Why such a hypocrite? Anyway I didn’t feel like spitting that fact out because it would’ve gotten me stuck in an argument 100%, so I just wore the stupid jacket.

If you wear mascara, what brand is it? Do you have mascara in any colours other than brown or black? I don’t wear mascara. My eyelashes are super long and prominent to begin with so I’ve never felt the need for it.

Do you have a favourite outfit that you like to wear for nights out? I rarely get into nights out anymore because nearly all my friends are either 1) knee-deep in law school or 2) are in that part of the mid-20s where it’s more appealing to stay in LOL but in the rare time that we successfully make plans I would typically opt for like a crop halter top or something sleeveless, and baggy bottoms.

When was the last time you painted your nails? What colour(s)? A long, long time ago. It was purple if I remember correctly.

Do you know what you’re going to wear tomorrow? I don’t have any events lined up for tomorrow and will only be working from home, so I’ll just have to wear some sort of presentable top in case I have to have my cam on for a call, and then my normal lounge shorts underneath.

When you have a soft drink, do you prefer it in a bottle or can? I would rather not drink soda at all but if it were the last thing on Earth, I’d go for can.

What’s your least favourite alcoholic drink? BEER.

Do your parents get annoyed if you go out and come home drunk? They would be more infuriated than annoyed, but realistically this never happens because I’m always my own driver and I would never drive drunk.

Do you like iced tea or coffee? Both are ok but I definitely prefer coffee a lot more. Iced tea can be too sweet.

Who was the last person to embarrass you? What did they do? She didn’t do it on purpose, but a workmate hosted a trivia game earlier and one of the questions was something everyone expected me to know/associated with me. Long story short, I genuinely didn’t actually know the answer to it but I was pelted with a lot of teasing and taunting for like a good 30 seconds, which I hated lol.

When you’re upset, do you tend to comfort eat or lose your appetite? I completely LOSE it. It’s bad and unhealthy, but I really do lose it and I can’t help it. Just two weeks ago I was stuck in a shitty, helpless situation at work and I legit didn’t eat for like...30 hours. I never felt hunger that entire time and only ate eventually because I realized I had to...well, keep myself alive.

Do you have a friend or relative that turns into a complete ninny when they’ve had too much to drink? First of all, what is a ‘ninny’?

Have you ever eaten so much of a favourite food that you got bored of it? Yeah McDo has this chicken sandwich that my mom used to get me every single day because she knew it was my favorite – until one day it wasn’t anymore because I got so sick of it. To this day I can’t really have it often.

What’s the unhealthiest thing you’ve eaten today? Three donuts in the span of like 10 minutes.

Who was the last person to send you a message on Facebook? Does/did that person go to the same school as you? Reena. We went to the same university, yeah, but different elementary and high schools.

How is your hair looking today? It cooperated majestically today and I fully credit that to being in air-conditioned rooms the entire day. See why I hate humidity and my country’s climate so much? Hahahaha.

What is your favourite brand of haircare products? Cream Silk works like magic for my hair. I used to handle a different haircare brand as one of my accounts and I’m so glad I no longer work with them, because I was always a Cream Silk gal, lol.

Have you bought any alcoholic drinks in the past week? Haven’t bought anything but I did drink a bit of soju last night as solidarity for JK who had a big-ass glass of whiskey during his live.

Has a stranger ever offered to buy you a drink? Yeah, once.

Do you know anyone that talks constantly about themselves and never even bothers to ask you how you are? Yeah my mom can be like that sometimes.

When was the last time you used a public toilet? Around a month-ish ago.

If the last person that hurt you apologized, what would you say to them? “No biggie, I super get it!” with a voiceover in the background hovering and saying, “It was most definitely a fucking biggie and she does not understand she had to have her feelings hurt.”

Did you go shopping today? Nah only thing I did was show up physically for work.

What was the last thing that put a smile on your face? Seeing my dogs.

What is something you’d be happy to receive as a gift, that doesn’t cost a lot? Kwek-kwek.

You’re given an extra $10 and told to go and treat yourself. What do you buy? I’d get some fast food delivered.

Has anyone ever asked for your phone number, and you refused to give it to them? I don’t think so.

When was the last time you used someone else’s phone to text or make a call? Whose phone was it? I haven’t done that since early high school when I didn’t have a phone yet and had to update my parents on my whereabouts. It was most likely either Angela’s or Athenna’s, bless them.

Do you have a favourite comfort food, that you absolutely must eat whenever you’re ill or upset? I rarely get sick. The closest answer I can give is that when my braces were new and I was growing frustrated that I couldn’t eat most foods, the first thing I asked was for cream of mushroom soup.

If you were to decide now that you wanted to get drunk, what alcohol is available in your house? Whiskey, beer, wine, and a whole lot of soju. I always want to have stock of the latter since it’s my favorite.

What kind of music does your significant other/crush like to listen to? I don’t have a partner.

When was the last time you ate cake? What type of cake was it? Really can’t remember; I’m not a big fan of cake. Probably that cheesecake I got at Starbucks around two months ago?

Who did you have your first kiss with? Do you remember what colour his/her eyes were? An ex; brown.

What’s the last letter of your surname? Not sharing.

In your phone’s contacts, who is the first person listed under ‘M’? What colour is that person’s hair? Kezhia. I think she just has her natural black hair at the moment.

Whose Facebook timeline did you post on most recently? I never post on other people’s walls.

Are there any themes from TV shows that you like to sing along to? Friends, Big Bang Theory, and I make it a point to hum along to Brooklyn Nine-Nine’s, Breaking Bad’s, and The Walking Dead’s as well.

Kinky question time … to turn you on quickly, where is the best place to touch or kiss you? Nec

Do your grandparents ever ask you about your love life? No. I’m in the minority of Filipino grandkids/nieces that fortunately never gets constantly probed about my love life, lol.

Do you eat dessert after dinner? No, not a big fan of sweets anyway.

Does anyone send you messages to say good morning or goodnight? Nope.

Have you ever had too much to drink and felt embarrassed about your behaviour the next day? Yep.

Have you ever gone into school/work with a hangover? School, yeah. I don’t think it’s ever happened in my current job though.

What was the last thing your parents gave you money for? Parking fees. I never carry cash these days so I had to ask for some from my mom since parking booths/stalls for some annoying reason are still largely on cash-only basis.

Who were the last people you had a group conversation with on Facebook? Angela and Reena.

The last time you were in a car, who was driving? My mom.

Who was the last person you took a photo of? Also my mom.

What was the last thing that stressed you out? Work.

Tell me about your last night out. Did anything interesting or amusing happen? We went to Pop-Up hoping to p a r t y, but we were quick to remember that most college kids were still on sem break so the atmosphere felt super dry. There were no booths playing music or DJ’ing and it also wasn’t crowded at all hahaha, very unlike how it usually is on a Friday night. It was pretty boring but at least my co-workers and I got a lot of good conversations out of it!

Who was the last new artist you came across, that you really liked? SE SO NEON.

What was the last video you watched on YouTube? I currently have a Cong vlog in the background. What was the last song you listened to, that reminded you of someone? Jin’s cover of Autumn Outside the Post Office. Just reminded me of...well, Jin.

Have you ever told anyone that you were never going to speak to them again, but then you did? I’ve never told anyone that to their face, but I have privately made that decision towards some people and have acted on it. I usually have no problem burning bridges as long as the reasons are valid and that I do it to protect myself.

How old is the last male you texted? No clue. Asking media contacts for their age isn’t something that comes up in conversation haha.

When you go out drinking, what do you prefer to drink? Cocktails. I’m mostly retired from shots now lol

What was the last thing a friend bought for you? Coffee.

What colour was the last mug you drank out of? That would be black.

Do you have a collection of anything? K-pop merch.

Is there a food or drink that you haven’t had before, but would like to try? Authentic shawarma! We have loads of shawarma restaurants here but a good 98% of them are always local takes, which are always bitched about Filipino kids who were raised in the Middle East. I’d love to know how the real deal is like and how it differs from the shawarma I’ve always had.

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taestefully-in-luv · 3 years ago

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Love Again | PJM (Twelve)

Summary: A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

Pairing: Jimin x Female reader

Genre: exes au, exes to ???, fluff, angst, smut

Word Count: 15.6k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (????!!!!!????!!!!), soft, soft sex, mention of pot brownie, dirty talk, jimin says ‘little slut’ lol, lots of kissing, ew intimacy, creampie, mention of cum eating, implied oral (male rec.) everyone’s having sex dude, lots of drama, lots of unsaid feelings and everyone being an idiot!

Notes: sorry I took longer than usual! I hope you guys like this chapter:] thanks for being patient with me! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. Love hearing from you guys<3 Send an ask if you want to be added to a tag list or just want to chat:)

Previously on…in chapter 11 of Love again, Namjoon has offered you a relationship! You meet with Jin and Justine to learn more about Lucy’s past. Tension (not the bad kind) keeps rising with Jimin. You and Naomi meet with Lucy and learn the truth. Everyone’s busy for the weekend: Jeremy with dates, Naomi with friends, Hobi fake dating Dae for a work party but you and Jimin decide to eat a ‘special’ brownie and uh oh, you had sex.

Previous---Next

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

This might be one of the more awkward outings you have been a part of in a while—or ever. The atmosphere feels a little bit tense, so many pairs of eyes roaming around, never meeting one another. Something is obviously going on between like, everyone. But the only person who seems to be free, lively and so freaking oblivious is Taehyung. Bless Taehyung and his inability to read the room right now as he drunkenly declares you should all take shots. Again.

“Taehyung, you’re already shit faced, dude.” You reach for your water, “You realize if you take another shot you are absolutely going to throw up?”

“Eh, let him.” Dae shrugs from beside you, “He stole my chips the trip here and ate them all so this is kind of his karma, I’d like to believe.”

“You want your brother to puke because he…ate your chips?” Hoseok raises a brow, “You truly are something.”

“That feels valid actually” You begin to agree, finally gulping back some of the water.

“Of course you would be the first to agree with that.” Hoseok shakes his head, “The women I surround myself with…”

“Oh?” Dae looks a bit blank as she glances at Hoseok. “Am I woman you surround yourself—"

“Oh come on!” Taehyung drags out his words with an adorable slur, “Jeremy? I know you won’t let me drink alone right?”

“I’ll take a shot if my brothers take a shot too.” Jeremy grins at Hoseok and Jimin. “Forget the girls we don’t need them to have a good time.”

“We’re literally right here?” Naomi grumbles on the other side of Dae. “We should have gotten our own table at this point.”

“Ever since their weird ass boys thing—”

“Weird?!” Taehyung scoffs, but his own grin starts to show itself. “You’re all just jealous.”

“Totally. That’s what it is.” You comment with a straight face, “Anyway—”

“Are you…Taehyung, by chance?” A feminine voice cuts in, you all look in Taehyung’s direction when you see a girl standing next to him with her hand on his shoulder. “You probably don’t remember me but I’m pretty sure we went to college together.”

“Aeri?” Taehyung tilts his head, “Like, the girl who hooked up with Jungkook one time in my apartment bathroom?”

“Oh!” The girl lights up, “So you do remember me!”

Well, that’s one way to remember someone, you think.

“Yeah!” Taehyung’s grin widens, “You look kind of different though?”

“I think my hair was dark and short when you last saw me.” Aeri returns his smile with her own, her hand finally leaving his shoulder. “Which was so many years ago.” She giggles, stumbling a little bit in her spot. She looks drunk too.

“No, that’s not it.” Taehyung waves her off, shaking his head slightly as he tries to think. “Oh! Last time I saw you was literally in the bathroom when you and Jungkook were…you know,” He winks now. “The thing that’s different is…clothes.” He says with a blank face while gesturing towards her and she widens her eyes before she laughs loudly.

“Oh yeah! You did walk in on us!”

“Does Taehyung just walk in on everyone having sex?” Hoseok laughs, shooting you a look when you glare at him. “I wonder if this chick stopped though unlike…” He trails off with a smirk, his hands motioning between you and Jimin. You want to kill him.

“So how have you been?” Aeri slurs a little as she chats with Taehyung, “Are you still living here?”

“Nah, nah, nah.” Taehyung glances at the rest of you, “Just visiting my friends!”

“Oh!” Aeri looks at you all now, smiling at everyone as she offers a greeting. “I know, I saw you from across the bar. You are like me!” She starts giggling cutely, hand back on his shoulder. “Fifth wheeling as the only single one in the group. That’s why I wanted to come say hi.”

��Only…single?” Taehyung asks, confusion growing as he eyes you all. “Oh.” He sings out, “No, no! We’re all single actually. Trust me, no one in this group is gettin’ any.” He starts chuckling to himself.

Aeri looks like the one who is confused now. “Really? Oh. I was so sure…” Her eyes find yours, “These two.” She points at you and at Jimin who sits across from you. “They’re a couple. And those two,” She points at Dae and Hoseok who sits across from her now. “They’re definitely a couple.” Now she points at Naomi and Jeremy, “And these two as well.”

“HA!” Naomi rolls her eyes, “Never in a fucking million years.”

“Yeah, that’s got to be the joke of the fucking century. Right, Naomi?” Jeremy spits back with a smile.

“I still don’t get what is up with them.” You say towards Hoseok and he nods. “But you’re wrong.” You say to Aeri before your eyes try to find Jimin’s but he avoids your gaze. Instead he reaches for his drink and takes a few sips, not even flinching as the alcohol runs down his throat, no doubt leaving a burn along the way.

“No, I’m not.” Aeri drunkenly laughs, “I’m never wrong about these things.”

“Trust me, no one is gettin’ any.” Taehyung snorts. “y/n over here basically has a whole ass boyfriend and isn’t even gettin’ any.”

Your insides start to twist at this mention but you try not to show it on your face.

Taehyung and Aeri are giggling when Taehyung lifts his drink and says, “Watch this! Hey everyone,” He looks at all of you with a confident smile. “Take a drink if you haven’t gotten laid in a while.” He wiggles his brows, even giving Aeri a cocky wink as he waits for you all to drink. But when Taehyung doesn’t see any hands reaching for drinks his cocky grin begins to falter. Aeri shrugs, her own cockiness showing now as she looks at him like it’s obvious.

“Uh…” Taehyung begins lowering his drink. “Okay….” He mumbles unsure, “Take a drink if you…have…? Like, have gotten laid recently…?”

Well, you and Jimin agreed you wouldn’t lie to anyone if the question was asked. And Taehyung kind of sort of has the exact question hanging in the air, waiting for an answer. You are the first to wrap your fingers around the glass that holds your mixed drink. You don’t look at anyone else as you bring it to your lips and take a sip. When you finally lift your eyes, they find Jimin who sits across from you and you see he is taking a sip of his drink as well. And then the dramatic ass gasp that leaves Taehyung’s lips can be heard and you glance around the table to see Hoseok and Dae have lifted their glasses as well as they drink back some of their alcohol…well, you knew about that already. But what surprises you is that Jeremy and Naomi are also sipping from their glasses.

“What?” Taehyung searches everyone’s eyes for answers. “You all…? Huh? Okay, okay.” He shakes his head, closing his eyes as he thinks for a moment. “How recent?” He looks at everyone again. No one says anything. “Okay…take a drink if it was like, a day ago.”

No one drinks and Taehyung sighs in relief but he notices everyone looks weird as hell so he continues. “Okay…take a drink if it was one week…?”

And then he dramatically gasps again as everyone awkwardly lifts their glasses, all eyes everywhere but each other. But then everyone does get a look at the other when too many pairs of eyes start widening. Taehyung points at his sister first, you are pointing at Naomi and Jeremy is pointing at Hoseok. Everyone’s looking real confused.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait!!!” Taehyung stands from his bar stool now, “What the fuck does that mean?”

Yes, Taehyung, you think. What the fuck does it mean?

One week ago

The way Jimin’s lips rub against yours as his hips roll into you makes you feel the sort of intimacy that terrifies you but in this moment there is nothing scary…just you and Jimin and this dreamy connection that makes your body feel like it’s floating.

You want to blame the brownie for this feeling but that high has already began to fade…only Jimin in your system at this point. And he didn’t lie. He is fucking you exactly how he said he would…he is fucking you the way you agreed, the way you chanted ‘yes’ over and over before you two even left for your bedroom. His words to you, his horrible, tragic, beautiful, dangerous and exceptional words that he whispered towards you on your couch.

“You want to get fucked y/n? You want me to fuck you? Me, right? You want me to fuck you like you’re my little slut? Fucked like you never been fucked before? Maybe you need me to fuck you like I’ve always fucked you, huh? You need to get fucked like someone is so, so in love with you? That the kind of fucking you need, babe? Need me to fuck you as if I was so, so in love with you? You want to get fucked like that?”

You never said yes a million times as fast as that. And he didn’t lie…he is fucking you exactly like that. He said ‘as if I was’ but if you are honest…the way he is fucking you, you might believe it if he told you he was still in love with you.

That is a ridiculous thought, you know. But every time his length slides in and out of you, hips rolling and eyes staying on yours…you feel that euphoria of being fucked in a way that feels like it is love. He’s just that good, you think.

You’re both panting, lips connecting every few moments to kiss—kisses that are so slow and deep, tongues taking their time and your bottom lip getting pulled lightly between his teeth. Your fingers caress his cheeks and he leans his forehead against yours, soaking in every light touch your fingers give his skin—eyes closing in satisfaction because your touch is just pure magic.

“I’m…” Jimin pauses, groaning in your mouth as he speeds up, thrusting just a little harder. “I’m going to come soon, babe.”

“Yeah?” You moan when his thumb makes contact with your clit, he puts just the right amount of pressure, circling it expertly.

“Mhm.” He nips at your lip, “Where do…” He releases a long breath, hips slamming into you just a bit harder. “Where should I…fuck, y/n, where should I—”

“We both know.” You whine. His thumb circles your clit faster, you feel your body start to tense, back arching as you prepare for what is to come.

Jimin’s eyes roll to the back of his head at what you are insinuating, satisfied with your response but he still prolongs his orgasm to ask you again. “Where baby?”

“Jimin…” You mewl, your orgasm already on the brink of arrival…”Please.”

Before you and Jimin started to have sex again, he discarded the first condom…it was full of his cum already and was uncomfortable but you were quick to guide his member back to your hole that needed to be filled. He didn’t object at the idea of fucking you raw…

“You want me to fill you with my cum, hm?” He starts picking up his pace again, his face right over yours, noses brushing and lips rubbing against each other so messily. “You need that?”

“Jimin.” Your mouth hangs open, body tensing intensely as you feel this build up start to overwhelm you. “I’m going to…” You can’t even finish that sentence when his thumb works harder and his cock hits a certain spot inside you that feels almost heavenly.

“Come for me babe.” He groans again. “Come for me, come for me like you always have.”

His words and everything else are enough to make you feel the kind of warmth that a long, intense, drawn out orgasm could give. You walls start squeezing around him so tightly and he is losing his mind over you. You, how you feel, how you look, everything.

“I’m going to…” His strokes don’t stop, regardless that he is about to come…his lips part when short, rapid breaths escape him. The moans he starts letting out as his cum shoots from the head of his cock and into the deepest parts of your core are so sinful. He doesn’t still his hips, he keeps fucking you but much more slowly, he pushes through to keep your orgasms intense and long. You might even come again when he whimpers—yes, whimpers at the feeling of fucking his cum into you.

You’re both feeling overwhelmed, overstimulated but his hips rolls into you a few more times, his cries of pleasure keeping you from stopping him. One more pump, then another before Jimin is finally stilling himself. Quick breaths hitting your lips as your own chest heaves. Jimin’s thumb leaves you when he raises it to his lips and sucks on it before taking your face with his hand, cupping it gently and leaning in for more slow kisses.

You kiss him back, lips moving over his as your hand reaches between your bodies and you carefully help him pull his cock out of you. Moaning into each other’s mouths when he’s finally no longer inside you and with his lips still connected to yours, he rolls over so you are laying side by side, still making out.

The room is hot, bodies sweaty, your skin sticking to his so easily. You can’t even process how you definitely need to replace these sheets before bed because his lips are still on yours and they are so addicting. You’ve never felt more obsessed with a pair of lips than this moment. It’s almost as if neither of you are prepared for this moment to end—for this night to end. Almost like if you two never stop then you don’t have to ever face the reality…maybe tomorrow will never arrive.

The kisses are slow and lazy and it sucks when you two finally pull away, foreheads resting against each other, soft breaths mingling. Jimin eyes you carefully, tenderly and you gaze back, both of you trying to communicate without saying words.

But words need to be said.

“Wow.” Jimin sighs out, “That was…” His voice gets a little quieter before a small smile pulls at his lips. “You’re very amazing.”

You crack a smile, “How amazing?”

“Most amazing.” Jimin quietly chuckles, leans in again to peck your lips. “What we just did…what we shared with one another just now…that’s rare.” He tells you, voice soft and almost careful.

“Rare?” You ask and he only hums in response. You don’t pry for an explanation and he doesn’t give one. Because you both know what he means. What you two just shared…the closeness, the connection, the intimacy…that is rare.

You and Jimin clean up, change the sheets and put on some clothes to sleep. Even though you are both more sober now and you two have officially pulled away to do other things, the atmosphere in the room has not changed. The night is still this night. Tomorrow is not here yet and no thought comforts either of you more.

You settle into your bed, blanket pulled up to your nose when Jimin slides in the sheets to lay next to you. It’s almost automatic how you scoot closer to him and he’s already welcoming you to lay your head on his chest. His arm wraps over you, stroking your arm softly. It is automatic when you nuzzle your face into his bare chest, inhaling his scent and listening closely for his heartbeat.

There is no feeling quite like this. There might not even be a feeling that can top this. This is a feeling you want to drown in. This is a feeling you want to kill you. You’d be fine, dying in this feeling because it means it’s the last thing you ever felt and you will leave this life and enter the next one with this feeling. This fucking feeling.

Even still, you are careful. Even with this feeling… you are careful. Careful because you have to be. Careful because you won’t be dying in this feeling…you will wake up tomorrow and this feeling is not allowed. So many words that could be said…between you and Jimin, there are millions of words that could stroke this feeling into something even more. But that is dangerous. So, you are careful. And so is he.

Nothing is said for a long while…you think over an hour has passed by and you believe Jimin must be fast asleep. You on the other hand…you are witnessing the night end and tomorrow arriving. And because of a fact so simple as that…the thoughts of reality are starting to settle in your messy little mind.

You aren’t even sure what to make of this entire night. What could it even mean? If it even means anything at all. Exes fall into each other’s beds all the time! This is not some rare instance…this is not some crazy thing that never happens. You know that, you get that. Feeling familiar with someone can be so, so dangerous. You are learning that. But that doesn’t always mean something deep. You know that too, you get that too. This is probably—

“Can’t sleep?” Jimin’s raspy voice slightly startles you, “Sorry.” He chuckles quietly. “I can tell you’re still awake.” He tells you, taking a pause before continuing. “Are you overthinking everything like me?”

You let silence linger for a moment before snuggling closer to him, “You know,” You whisper out, trying to gather your thoughts. “I’m supposed to give Namjoon an answer about me and him…I should be thinking about that. I should be having a lot of thoughts about that. But I’m here having no thoughts about it because I think you fucked those thoughts out of my head.” You scoff quietly at yourself. “Instead I am thinking about how tonight you gave me the best orgasms I have ever had in my life.”

“In your life?” Jimin asks, trying to stop his lips from curving into some sort of satisfied smile.

“Yeah.” You hum, “I mean, don’t get me wrong…in the past you also gave me great orgasms but this was…I don’t know. I’m sure the last time we had sex I came hard too but this—”

“The last time…? The last time we had sex…?” Jimin’s soft voice is hushed. “y/n…do you not remember?”

“Remember what?”

“We didn’t come last time. The morning of my flight. We had sex but neither of us came.” He tells you, “We uh, we never got that far.”

“Oh.” You blink, “That sounds like it sucks, sorry. No wonder you cried.” You can’t help but chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No. It was amazing.” He tells you quickly, “It was emotional, yeah…but even though I didn’t finish…I had never felt more satisfied at that time in my life. I just wanted to be close to you, y/n. As close as physically and emotionally as possible.” He nuzzles his face into the top of your head. “I felt so connected to you…that even in those moments of pleasure, even without climaxing, I felt so fucking good. And maybe it was just me…”

“What?”

“I didn’t even feel like I needed to finish…just having that connection with you…I felt like I was at the edge already, the edge of the Earth. And I jumped. I jumped and I drowned in you. You drowned me, y/n. Drowned me in every bit of love your body and soul could give me. It was one of the most powerful things I’ve experienced and yeah, I cried.” He chuckles, “I cried because I knew I would never have that again.”

“Oh.”

“And when we decided to stop…and I left your body I don’t think I had ever felt more empty.”

You’re quiet. His words finding a spot in your mind, making themselves at home as you decide they are allowed to live there forever. You release a breath before finally deciding to respond. “Well,” You lift your head to look at him, the room just light enough from the almost rising sun that you two can lock eyes. He gazes at you expectantly, waiting for you to say something. “…I mean, technically wouldn’t it have been me who felt empty? You know,” you gesture towards your lady bits, “Since—”

Jimin snorts, laughing at your smart ass mouth and squeezing you to his body. “Yeah, yeah.”

Your face breaks into a small grin, “But uh, that was um, pretty.”

“Pretty?” Jimin quirks a brow. “What was?”

“Your words. Like poetry. Your words are pretty. Just like you.”

Jimin can’t help but lean more into the pillow and smile up at the ceiling now. “Pretty like the moon?”

“Like the moon.” You tell him, “But Jimin.” You glance over at the window, “The moon is no longer in the sky…and the sun is starting to take its place. A new day is arriving and…”

Jimin squeezes you even tighter towards him when he sighs out. “I know.” He whispers. “A new day means this day is over. And…”

“And the day that is over can’t bleed into tomorrow.” You finish for him. “You know?”

“I know.” Jimin sighs again, “But…can we pretend the sun doesn’t control our day? Just for now. Can we live in this night until we wake up and it is actually tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” You lay your head back down on his chest, “We can do that.”

It’s after 1pm when you and Jimin finally wake up. It’s not necessarily awkward but there is an understanding between you both…and understanding that last night’s events were exactly that—last night’s events—and nothing more. You have reasons and he has reasons and neither of you really speak on those reasons but you both know they’re there and you both have them and that has to be enough.

“Okay, I’ll get going.” Jimin starts gathering his things and makes his way towards your door to slide on his shoes. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” He smiles at you and his smile is making this weird, dangerous warmth start heating up your body. But you can’t show any sign that this heat is creeping up your neck, onto your cheeks and so on.

“Yeah. Get home safe.” You return his smile, a smile so calm and careful.

“I will.” Jimin nods at you, “See you.”

And he is opening the door, turning his head to steal one last glance at you before walking through and closing the door behind him.

Your eyes stay on your white wood door for a few seconds, your calm and careful smile still on your face when you finally release a long, long breath that you had been holding and your smile drops completely. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. That’s the only real words in your mind right now.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.” And the only real words you’re even able to mutter at the moment. You blink repeatedly, eyes still on your door as the reality hits you hard. Oh fucking shit, you think. You finally turn towards the inside of your home and your legs are moving on their own as you start searching for your phone. You finally find the device stuck between the couch cushions and you are scrambling to unlock it and call the person you need to freaking call. Your one and only, your best friend.

You wait on the line as it rings and rings and finally Hoseok answers.

“Hello?”

“Hoseok!” You screech into the phone.

“Hi.” He sings, “Wait, hold on.” He tells you and you try to wait as patiently as possible. “Hey…Taehyung just got here. Me, him and Dae are going to grab some lunch before we get ready for Dae’s work party tonight. Can I call you later?”

“Oh my god.” You groan, “You being busy is ruining my life!”

“Dramatic as always. What’s up? What happened?”

“Nothing. Just call me later, okay? When do you get home?”

“Tomorrow afternoon!”

“Oh my god, just…” You groan again. “Whatever. Tell them I say hi. Have fun tonight, love you.”

“Will do. Love you with all my heart. See ya!” And then he’s quickly hanging up and leaving you to think about this all by yourself.

It’s almost noon on Sunday now and you aren’t sure if Hoseok is home yet but you need to talk to him. Even if he’s still driving and it’s just over the phone. You’re desperate at this point. You’re sitting at your kitchen island, phone in your hands as you click on the screen to call him. This dude answers on the first ring.

“Hoseok!—”

“—y/n!”

You both yell at the same time, and neither of you waste another second or even wait for the other to just respond before you’re both yelling again.

“Code Red!” You shout in unison.

“What?” You ask, puzzled. “You’re Code Red?”

“You’re Code Red?” He asks on the other line. “Why are you Code Red?”

“No, why are you Code Red?”

“Holy fuck, why are we both—”

“Come over dude. I just got home, this is an emergency!” Hoseok shouts, “Fucking Code Red bro.”

“Trust me, I know it’s a fucking emergency dude!”

“Hurry up.”

You and Hoseok sit at his dining room table, looking and feeling antsy as hell. Legs shaking up and down, throats feeling dry, eyes boring into the other.

“You go first.” You look at Hoseok anxiously and he shakes his head quickly and motions for you to go first. “Okay.” You nod, “Let’s just go at the same time. Let’s just say whatever it is.” Hoseok nods now too, agreeing right away with the plan. “Okay, count of three. One…two…THREE!”

“I had sex with—”

“I had sex with—” You both shout but stop as soon as you both realize what you guys are saying.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Your eyes go wide. “Who the hell did you have sex with?”

Hoseok gives you an unimpressed look, “Oh come on, y/n. Who the hell do you think it was?!”

“Fair. But what?! How!? How did that…? You guys fucked for real?! You and…Dae?!”

Hoseok shudders just at the mention of her name, “I don’t know how it happened!” He groans into his hands, “We just…I don’t know!” He yells out.

“Were you guys like, really drunk at the party?!”

“Holy fuck this just keeps getting worse.” Hoseok’s lips set into a line. “We were fucking sober.”

“Oh my god…” You can’t help but snort. “Come on Hobi…is this really such a surprise?”

“YES?” He looks at you incredulously. “She is my frenemy!”

“But you guys have fucked before!” “Because…because we had to!”

“…Had to?” You look at him with a straight face.

“Trust me, y/n. We had so much tension back then! After she beat me at the competition it only made sense that I fuck her?!?????”

“Oh my god…” You start laughing, “You’re so ridiculous. So what? She humiliated you again?? You had to what? Punish—” You can’t even finish that because you’re laughing harder now.

“Ha-Ha!” Hoseok rolls his eyes and once you stop laughing Hoseok continues, voice a little quieter. “I was pretending to be her boyfriend, remember? Well, I don’t know, it felt nice…all the small things.” He mumbles with a pout. “And then she mentioned she felt like no one really believed us so I kissed her—”

“Of course you did.” You giggle, “Classic. What movie is this?”

“Shut up.” Hoseok deadpans. “Anyway, we left and then yeah, we had sex.”

“And that’s Code Red?”

“It’s Code Red because I woke up early and bolted.” He says with a straight face and your jaw drops.

“What?”

“Yeah.”

“You are dumb as hell.” You say with an equally straight face.

“She texted me and I tried explaining it was a mistake and you know, whatever, whatever.”

“Do you think it was a mistake?”

“I don’t know!” He throws his hands up, “I’m so…I really don’t know!”

“Damn…”

“But anyway, I had sex with Dae but who the hell did you have sex with? That’s the real fucking question.”

Suddenly you’re quiet. Hoseok narrows his eyes at you and he tries studying your expression, doing his best to figure it out. “Okay…it can’t be Namjoon. No, because that wouldn’t be Code Red…you have been expecting to have sex with him so who…” Then his eyes are widening and his mouth opens and a dumb ass smile starts forming. “Oh my god.” He points at you. Fucking accusing you…”You fucked Jimin.” He says matter of fact.

Your eyes get just as wide as he assumes correctly. You still don’t say anything and he’s losing it.

“You totally…oh my god, you fucked Jimin!” He’s still pointing at you, stupid ass grin on his face because he knows he is right. You continue to look shocked before you drop your head to the dining table before groaning and dramatically crying out.

“Oh my god…” You whine, “I totally fucked Jimin.”

“Holy shit!” Hoseok still hasn’t closed his mouth, he’s…surprised but not surprised but like super surprised but also not. “Oh my god. You fucked Jimin, dude.”

“I fucked Jimin, dude.” You start banging your head on the table. “I’m a Jimin fucker.”

Finally, Hoseok closes his mouth and scrunches his brows together. “For some reason I don’t like the way that sounds so let’s not say it that way again.” Then he breathes out, “But still…you fucked Jimin. This is crazy.”

You finally lift your head, eyes beginning to pool with worry. “It is crazy.”

Hoseok notices you look a little off now as you stare at him and he softens, “Is it?”

“Yes.” You tell him simply, voice unsure. “It’s crazy for multiple reasons. And I feel like I don’t even have to tell you all the reasons because you can probably guess. And realistically you could probably come up with even more reasons than me.”

“Should I start listing some?” He lightly teases but you frown at him. “Oh come on, you fucked your ex who you are like, really close with. Are you surprised?”

“Yes?” You slump your shoulders, “But like, no?”

“Yeah.” Hoseok offers a half smile. “You guys are…well, you’re really close. Anyone can see that and sure, it could be totally platonic. I think you two might really be capable of that. But I also understand there is a long history there. And there’s probably so many things between you both no one else would even begin to understand—”

“Maybe Taehyung.” You blink at Hoseok and he snorts.

“Okay, maybe Taehyung.” He laughs, his head shaking before he continues. “If I’m being honest with you, y/n. I know he broke your heart and I know I don’t know the full story. I don’t know everything and I don’t know his side. And he’s my friend…and even if he wasn’t…it’s probably not fair to judge an entire situation without knowing all the sides, right?”

“You hated him before.” You deadpan.

“That was a few months ago…I’ve…” He starts nodding, eyes glancing up as he thinks. “…Matured?” He decides to go with that. “Anyway, regardless of what happened…you’re both in each other’s lives now, right? You’re close. You enjoy one another. Yada, Yada. Look, it’s not that big of a deal that you two had sex—”

“It was the intimate kind.” You let the words slip out quickly.

“Oh?” Hoseok raises a brow, “Like…how intimate?”

“Like, it felt like love, intimate.” You blurt but then try to recover, “I mean…I know it wasn’t that but I’m just saying that what it felt like.”

Hoseok lips part slightly as he realizes what you are saying. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” You swallow, “I’m not saying we…it’s just…that’s the kind of sex we had.”

“Well,” Hoseok glances around trying to think of what to say next to try his best to comfort you, you’re sure but when his eyes start to expand you realize he is finally putting together some other important pieces here. “Wait.”

“Yup.” You blurt blandly.

“What about Namjoon?” He asks, eyes still wide.

“Exactly.” You frown, “That’s exactly what I’m thinking. What about Namjoon…”

Hoseok stands from his chair abruptly, your eyes following him as he gives you a nod and he heads towards his kitchen, pulls out a bottle of wine and two glasses.

“We’re drinking?”

“When we’re both in a Code Red situation, drinking seems completely appropriate.”

“That…yeah, that checks out.” You stand as well and meet him in the kitchen, watching him open the wine bottle and fill both of your glasses to the absolute brim.

“So,” He hands you your glass. “What are you going to do about Namjoon? I mean, did you have sex with Jimin because you guys are in love or like, did you two fuck because well, fucking your ex is easy?”

“Holy shit.” You murmur, bringing the glass to your lips as you suck up some of the wine that is close to spilling over.

“Yeah, holy shit is right, sister.”

“We…we aren’t in love. But I think it would also be the easy way out to say we just had sex because it was an easy option.”

“How do you know you aren’t in love?” Hoseok softens even more, his tone careful with you.

“Trust me, if we were in love…wouldn’t we be together right now? Wouldn’t the sex maybe would have set off the type of chain of events where we aren’t pretending it didn’t happen?”

“Is…” Hoseok nibbles on his lip. “Don’t tell me you two are pretending…oh, that doesn’t seem like you two.”

“I know what you’re thinking. It’s not necessarily like pretending like totally avoiding and shit, but more like…it happened but it won’t happen again. We both get that.”

“But why?”

“Be-because? First, I owe Namjoon a fucking answer and probably the truth. And second…I don’t know.”

“You said the sex would have maybe set off a chain events where you two would want to be together again, right? But it didn’t? Did you ever think it’s because it just isn’t that simple, y/n? If it was that simple…then I feel like your actual relationship and dynamic has no depth. But because it’s more complex,” Hoseok picks up his own wine glass, stares at the liquid and sighs out heavily before continuing. “Well, I think it just proves how real it is.”

You stare at your best friend, mind beginning to race with thoughts you don’t even want to think about but maybe saying them out loud is a good way to ease your own mind.

“You’re right.” Your eyes fall to the counter top, “It is complex. He broke my heart, sure. But I’m not the only one who needs to work through things. He has stuff too.” A small smile creeps on your lips, “I could shove down my own problems and new insecurities to start new—whoever that may be with—but I could never expect him…especially at this point in time, to just get over his own trauma.”

“Trauma?” Hoseok pulls his brows together. “What do you mean?”

“Right.” You gulp. Eyes lifting back to meet his, “I can’t share it because I don’t know how comfortable Jimin would be with it but yeah, he just…he has things and anyway, it is complex.”

“I’m not sure my situation is even complex.” Hoseok chuckles. “I’m just a chicken.”

“I’ll drink to that.” You wink, taking a sip of your wine and Hoseok flips you off.

“I’m just…I’m wanting the right one, you know? But it’s come to my attention I don’t know who that is and maybe I do. But how do I really know? And I don’t know. I’m stupid.”

“You aren’t stupid. You’re like every other human being on this planet. Scared.”

“But what am I scared of?”

“Love?” You shrug.

“No, love is this amazing thing!”

“Love is an amazing thing but when there’s good there’s bad!” You throw back at him. “And no one prepares their heart for the bad. Trust me.”

“Or” Hoseok sets his wine down, his eyes finding yours and you can see how the dark browns swirling around also swirl with sincerity. “We do prepare for the bad but we don’t like how it feels to imagine that and that’s why we’re scared. Because maybe we’ve gotten a taste and decided you know what? Is the good worth all this bad again?”

“Well,” You set your glass down as well. “Then I guess all I can say is…being human sucks.”

~~~~~

Monday morning and you are at the office much earlier than usual. Hoseok walks in some time after you and eyes you strangely as he sets up his desk.

“If you tell me you have not even slept…I swear—”

“Does 40 minutes count?” You cut him off, eyes on your screen. “Because if it does then I totally slept.”

“For your sake I’ll just agree that it counts.” Hoseok shakes his head before sitting down.

“And for your sake I doubled the amount.” You mumble to yourself, eyes still on your screen as you try to convert this document. “So,” You click the mouse repeatedly, and…annoyingly. “Namjoon is out of town this week so I will have to live with my sins a little longer.”

Hoseok glances over at you, pity smile on his lips. “Maybe that’s good? Gives you more time to think.”

“Thinking is literally the last thing I want to—”

“Sup guys.” Jeremy comes towards you both, stopping at his desk to set his coffee down. “Is uh, is Naomi here yet?”

You just continue to look at your screen, clicking your mouse as you shake your head.

Jeremy releases a long breath before adjusting his jacket, “Okay. Cool, cool.” He finally takes his seat.

“Why?” Hoseok turns in his chair to face Jeremy, “Need her for some—”

“Nope. No. No. Nah.” Jeremy shakes his head with his hands waving in front of him. “Just wondering. Yup, just having uh, wonders. It was…I was just…wonder—anyway, uh, have you guys umm, talked to her? Like over the weekend?”

You continue to stare at your screen, mouse clicking and you shake your head…again.

“Yeah, that’s cool. Okay, cool, cool.” Jeremy nods along, hands still adjusting his jacket.

“O…kay.” Hoseok gives Jeremy a confused look before turning in his chair to face you again. “Jeremy is being weird, y/n.”

“Jeremy is always weird, Hoseok.” You say, eyes probably straining thanks to the screen.

“No. Just look at him.” Hoseok whispers and you finally tear your eyes away, glancing in their direction when you snort.

“What…what are you wearing?” You raise a brow at Jeremy.

“What?” Jeremy starts to feel antsy. “Is it weird? It’s weird right. The jacket? Is it too much?”

“Uh, it’s not that. Just…why?” You look at Hoseok and he shrugs, holding in his own laugh.

“I can’t look nice?” Jeremy decides to act sassy. “You’re a slob half the time but I don’t try to make you feel weird when you wear a skirt!” “Jeez.” You raise your hands in surrender, stifling your own laughter as well. “Fair point.”

“Hello friends!” Naomi’s voice can be heard, your turn your head to get a look at her when she walks towards you guys, her curls bouncing cutely above her shoulders. “Morning.” She says…only to you and Hoseok. “Love seeing my friends here.”

“Yeah, hi.” You eye her over…she usually does look decently nice for work but this is…”You look pretty…is there an occasion? Are you and Jeremy going somewhere after working or something?”

“HA!” Naomi giggles, almost forced when she grins wide before spinning on her heels to face Jeremy. “Well, hello, Jeremiah.”

“Naomi-iah.” He stands from his chair, hands still freaking adjusting the jacket.

“That’s like…neither of their names, right?” Hoseok whispers towards you and you shake your head before continuing to watch this weird ass interaction.

“Love coming to work to see my friends! Even you! Wow, especially you! Right? My friend?” Naomi flutters her lashes as she always does, smile still wide while Jeremy nods enthusiastically.

“Of course! Because I’m your friend. And uh, well, you’re my friend.” Then his head bobs around as he looks at you and Hoseok too. “We are all friends! Love being friends. I love having friends. Friends are so cool—”

“Exactly. You just love your friends so much!” Naomi starts laughing, “You are like, friend of the year.”

“I sure am. But uh, y/n is right! You look nice!” He forces a grin.

“Wow, thank you!” Naomi continues to smile, lashes still fluttering. “And you look…” She eyes him up and down, smile still in place when she blinks awkwardly. “…weird.”

“I-I-I-“

“Well,” Naomi smiles even wider, “Got to get to work, am I right, friends?” And then she walks off to her desk as Jeremy mumbles to himself, eyeing over his outfit.

“Weird.” You mouth at Hoseok and he shrugs.

Tuesday evening when you hear from Jimin for the first time since you saw him last. The texts are pretty awkward but at least he’s texting you.

Jimin 7:03pm

So have u eaten

y/n 7:10pm

yeah I have

Jimin 7:10pm

Oh ok

y/n 7:12pm

have you

Jimin 7:12pm

Uhhhhh not yet but I guess I should lol

y/n 7:12pm

I have leftovers if you want them

Jimin 7:13pm

Youre invited me over?

y/n 7:13pm

seems like it right

Jimin 7:15pm

Right

y/n 7:18pm

come on jimin just come over

Jimin 7:20pm

Its to talk about things isn’t it lol

y/n 7:22pm

you don’t think we should?

Jimin 7:23pm

No I definitely think we should

y/n 7:23pm

alright then come

Jimin 7:38pm

On my way

“This is pretty good.” Jimin says with his mouth full, the last bite finally conquered as he finishes the left overs you offered him.

“I know, right?” You smile, “It’s new. Opened up like less than two years ago.”

Jimin stands from the island and throws away his container and goes to the sink to wash his hands. “Didn’t you have a rule about trying to eat home cooked meals on week days?”

“Well,” You laugh, “Things change!”

“Yeah.” Jimin dries his hands on the towelette before turning to you. “I guess they do…so, should we go into the living room?” He gestures towards the area of your sofa and you nod, standing from your chair and heading in that direction. Jimin follows, deciding not to sit too far from you so it doesn’t seem like he is being awkward and purposely staying away…but maybe he is sitting too close. Not even a foot of space between you both but nothing is said about it.

“So.” Jimin stares ahead, eyes on your black TV screen.

“So.” You decide to follow his gaze, the black TV screen looking so entertaining. “Um.”

“Um.” He copies.

You release a breath before laughing to yourself, eyes falling to your lap now. “We are usually so good at talking and being open…why are we being so awkward?” “So awkward, right?” Jimin laughs too, his head titling in your direction. “Let’s just say it. We had sex. And we want to discuss it. But are we discussing it like how it went?” He cracks a smile, “Or discussing what it meant? Why did we do that? What we should do now?”

“All of the above?” You lean back into the sofa cushion, small smile as well. “First, I think we can both admit sex between us has always been great so no surprise there.”

“That’s true.” Jimin hums. “It felt natural being with you but there was also something about it that felt so…thrilling. It felt brand new while also feeling like ho—well, I don’t know.” Jimin finishes timidly.

“Yeah, I don’t know either.” You gulp, both knowing. “So…why did we do that?”

“You’re skipping over ‘what it meant’ already?” Jimin teases, “But uh, it would be bad to blame the brownie, right?” He chuckles, relaxing his shoulders some as he leans back on the couch as well. “Because even I know that even if the brownie was not a part of the equation…” “What?”

“It was going to happen regardless.” Jimin tells you simply. “At least I would have wanted it to.”

You sigh out, eyes going to the ceiling. Yeah, you believe that actually. “Are you saying it was a matter of time?” You turn your head towards Jimin, crooked smile on your face. “That because everything is so familiar with me that we were bound to hook up?”

“Familiar? You think I only wanted to fuck you because it was familiar, y/n?” Jimin turns his head to face you as well. “I fucked you because I am very attracted to you and we have great chemistry.” He shrugs his shoulders, head facing forward again. “I fucked you because you’re you.”

“Oh.”

“Did you only have sex with me because I’m your ex and it seemed familiar?” Jimin asks you, voice quieter.

“It makes things easier.” You respond. Jimin turns his head towards you again, eyes finding yours before he narrows them, not really believing your answer.

“But no,” You sigh out, “I guess not. Your reasons seem relatable.”

“Hmm.” Jimin continues to gaze at you, “You can be honest y/n. If you only wanted me that night because you were just…in the mood for something like that…and I was an easy option—”

“No!” You lift your head and lean towards him, “That’s not what I—I didn’t mean to come across that way.”

Jimin’s lips lift into a smile, “I know.”

“You know?” You ask and he hums.

“Yeah. The way we fucked babe, you really think I would think you would only want something like that just because you were horny? Yeah, no.”

“Jimin—”

“If you were just looking to get fucked don’t you think you would have just done it with Namjoon by now? But Namjoon isn’t what you wanted,” His voice goes lower, eyes boring into yours. “Now was it?”

He makes it sound so simple—and maybe it is. But you think you might refuse the idea of it being that easy. “W-What do we do now?”

“Still avoiding what it meant?” Jimin decides to tease you again, lips curved into one of his addicting smiles. “That’s okay.”

“It meant…” You start chewing on your lips, realizing you are avoiding that one because you haven’t even really thought about what it could mean. “I don’t know.”

“Me either.” Jimin’s smile continues to charm you. “And I think it’s okay that we don’t know right now. But what to do…”

“Yeah.”

“You’re very important to me, y/n.” Jimin breathes out, “So important.”

“I know.” You smoosh your cheek into the couch cushion, “You’re important to me too.”

“You’re in this thing with Namjoon…I don’t mean like,” His eyes widen a bit as he stares at you, “It’s not like thing, thing—an official thing—right? But it’s a situation? I mean, he’s…are you going to tell him?”

“Yeah,” you close your eyes briefly, hating that you have to tell Namjoon about this. “I am. I feel like I owe him that much. Not sure how he will react. If he will be angry or just disappointed.”

“I don’t know either.” Jimin admits. “But say things go okay…he still wants to be in a relationship with you…what are you going to do?”

“What…” You pause. You can’t believe you are on the verge of asking Jimin what you should do…you are really on the verge of asking Jimin to tell you what it is you think you should do because apparently it matters to you—his thoughts and opinions.

“Hm?”

“What do you think I should do?” You blurt.

“You…” Jimin raises his brows at you, “You want me to tell you what I think?”

“Yeah.”

“I think you know already, y/n. Not just what I think but what you think. But you are fighting it and I cannot figure out why.”

“Fighting it?”

“Mhm.” Jimin looks at you with a softness, a softness that seems to be bleeding into another look. Maybe one of guilt. “If I had to guess it would be because you’re just wanting something or someone and you know he’s good, maybe even safe. You’re afraid to ever feel something again like you had with me.”

“Okay.” You stare at him, slowly nodding your head. “Maybe.”

“And that’s one reason why what we did cannot happen again. Right?” Jimin tilts his head just slightly, a smile that is barely there on his lips.

You feel your chest tighten as the words leave his mouth, “Right.” You whisper. “And another reason is because of you. Right?”

Jimin’s lips curve just a little higher, his eyes shining with his understanding—and your understanding. “Right.”

“We’ve moved on.” You state simply. “So, of course we wouldn’t fall into what we did again.”

“Oh?” Jimin’s lips start tugging into something sly. “So, you are telling me you won’t even think about it then?”

“The sex we had?” You question and he grins.

“Yeah. You won’t think about it? Won’t let your mind wander?”

“Even if it did…doesn’t mean—Listen, I’ve been successful. You think I haven’t thought about you like that? Nothing happened!”

“But…something did happen?” Jimin chuckles, “You weren’t successful.”

“Did you…did you ever think about—“

“I told you when I was fucking you that I had.”

“Yeah but—”

“I wasn’t just saying things to turn you on. Everything I said was the truth. I have been desperate to kiss you for some time.”

You can’t help but snort, “Desperate is a pretty serious word, Jimin.”

“It’s been pretty serious.” He laughs back. “Even with knowing it’s not a good idea or something I should do…even right now I am thinking about kissing you.”

Your mouth falls open, surprise gracing your features before you lean more forward to hit his arm. “You are not!”

“I definitely am.” He smirks. “Maybe I’ll be thinking about that forever. Who knows.”

“You really have no shame.” You roll your eyes, covering your mouth with your hand, doing your best to hide your growing smile. “You can’t just say that.”

“At least let me say it since I can’t do it.” Jimin jokes. “But anyway, y/n.” He grows a little more serious, “We’re okay?”

“Yeah, we are.” You smile towards him. “Want to watch a show?”

“Might as well.” Jimin returns your smile before standing from the sofa, walking to the other side to grab your designated blanket. He comes back to his spot but instead of a foot of distance between you both, he sits right next to you, thighs glued together. “Cold.” He mumbles as he lays the blanket over both of your laps.

You reach for the TV remote, turning it on to Netflix. “A movie?”

“Sounds good to me,” Jimin says, head leaning on your shoulder, “Pick whatever you want.”

You aren’t really sure Jimin is paying too much attention to the movie you chose…every time you steal a glance at him, you see how his eyes are on your lap. His fingers play with yours and so much warmth starts radiating off of your body. You don’t know what he is thinking or how he is feeling in the moment.

“Are you bored?” You whisper at him, “You look bored.”

“Not at all.” Jimin murmurs, “I am having a nice time actually.”

“You aren’t even watching the movie.” You laugh, pointing out the obvious. “Your eyes have only been on our hands.”

“Your hands are nice.”

“So you would rather watch them than this movie? Yeah, you’re bored.”

“Not bored.” Jimin chuckles, his eyes finally lifting to look at you. And then he speaks slowly, “Touching you isn’t boring for me.”

His touch relaxes you but his words send a strange feeling throughout your body. Tingles maybe.

“You’re saying you could touch me forever and have fun then?” You quirk a brow, “You’d never get bored?”

“Is there a world where you let me touch you forever?” Jimin’s lips curve up, “Sounds like my ideal world.”

“Shut up.” You shake your head, “Don’t tell me something like that.”

“Like what?”

“That you have an ideal world and I’m in it.”

“You aren’t just in it. In the ideal world I get to touch you.” He whispers.

“Then are you in your ideal world then? You’re touching me right now.”

“In my ideal world I am touching you a whole lot more than this.” Jimin’s tone falls lower, his eyes on yours and you want to shudder…because the tingles are here again and they are starting to feel dangerous to your health.

“How much more?” Your breaths are soft but one leaves your mouth shaky and Jimin knows he’s got your mind wandering.

“Don’t ask a question that you aren’t prepared to hear the answer.” Jimin’s fingers start threading through yours. “The only hint I can give you is that it’s so much touching that you would be aching to touch me back.”

“Would I?” You tease, smirk on your lips while Jimin rolls his eyes at you, scoffing at how much of a tease you are.

“Yes.”

“How do you know?”

“I know because I know you.”

“Do you though?” You continue to tease him, your own fingers playing with his. “It’s been five years, Jimin. People change.”

Jimin starts chuckling, his hand leaving yours. He raises his head and turns it towards you, just a few inches from your face when he gazes into your eyes, a specific glint inside them. “That doesn’t work anymore, y/n.” He tells you softly, “I know you now. I know you all over again. I know this y/n. I know you.”

Your breath gets stuck inside your throat somewhere. As much as you would love to breathe—you can’t. Not when Jimin stares at you like this…stares at you like he really does know you. Stares at you with eyes full of some unreadable emotion. You look at him, trying your best to read his expression. You finally release a long breath, still staring when it finally hits you. You can read him—you can read him well. You know exactly what he wants.

“You want to kiss me.” The worlds tumble out of your mouth quickly and quietly and Jimin’s smile drops and his eyes expand but before he can save himself and maybe even lie to you…you lean in and plant your lips on top of his.

You weren’t thinking…not exactly. You just followed whatever your body wanted. And it seems Jimin is doing the same. The moment your lips touched his, he already had his hands traveling across your waist until they are now cupping the back of your neck, his own lips working over yours.

You don’t know how long you two have been kissing but it feels good, there isn’t even tongue yet but it’s still messy and hot. The low groaning coming from Jimin is making every nerve in your body react, your fingers tugging his hair and pulling him closer to you, leading his body over yours as you start to lay back.

Jimin is quick to slot himself between your legs, getting as close as possible to you while his lips never leave yours. When he lightly bites down on your bottom lip, tugging it back and making you buck your hips into his crotch, he finally slides his tongue in your mouth. Warm, wet and sloppy and so fucking hypnotizing. Especially the way he starts grinding into you.

Jimin pulls away from your lips so he can start exploring other parts of you with his mouth. His tongue glides across your jaw, your head leaning further back, a soft moan leaving you while Jimin continues to grind. He sucks a spot on your neck while his hands get busy—he wastes no time—his fingers already at your pants, trying his best to unbutton them quickly while he kisses your skin.

“Wait, wait.” You whine, eyes slamming shut. “I’m on my period.” Your own hands go to his to stop him from taking your pants off. Jimin leans away from you before he smirks.

“You know I don’t care.” He whispers, his lips finding yours again. He pecks your lips over and over, his fingers still trying to mess with the button. Your eyes roll back, wanting nothing more than for him to do whatever it is he wants with you. But you stop him again, smile on your lips as you cup his face.

“It’s not light.” You inform him, “It’s okay, seriously.”

Jimin breathes out roughly, his forehead coming down to yours as he calms himself down. “Okay, okay.” He tells you, “That’s okay—”

“You’re hard?”

Jimin disconnects his forehead from yours just barely, only for his eyes to meet your eyes. “y/n.” He moans your name and you feel yourself grow warmer and warmer. Jimin licks his lips before continuing, “You know I’m so hard right now. I’m so fucking hard for you.”

“Let me take care of you.” You begin rising from the couch, your hands on his chest as you push him back. “Let me make you feel good.”

“I feel good already babe.” Jimin gazes at you, his eyes softening but the lust is still very much alive in them.

“You like looking at my hands right?” You push Jimin even more, his back hitting the couch cushion. “Don’t you want to see them wrapped around your cock?”

Jimin freezes for only a second, his chest beginning to heave more and more as he lets the image of you playing with his cock linger in his mind.

“You were right, Jimin.”

“About what?” He struggles to speak coherently, his dick so painfully erect now.

“You do touch me in a way that I ache to touch you back.” Your fingers go to his jeans, already unbuttoning them and sliding down the zipper. “My ideal world…fuck,” You help him get his jeans off, your hand dipping inside his briefs. “I touch you too.” Your fingers barely brush against his member but you can feel it react instantly. It twitches and Jimin’s eyes become half lidded as he stares at you. “This is my ideal world, Jimin.”

“Then touch me…fuck,” He whines, struggling to keep his eyes open and on you. Your fingers wrap around the shaft, barely stroking him when he breathes harder and harder. “Fucking touch me more baby.”

“More? Maybe my hands aren’t enough for you Jimin.” You finally pull his member out as Jimin’s own hands scramble to tug his underwear down to his thick thighs. “You don’t want to come all over my hands right? You’d rather come down my throat, huh? You’d rather have me swallow your cum, taste you and crave you later when you aren’t here.”

“You would crave me, wouldn’t you?” Jimin’s raspy voice makes your head spin. This entire scene in front of you makes your head spin actually. The way he looks at you, eyes barely open, his lips extra plump and swollen from kissing and his chest rising and falling quickly. “Because you’re so addicted to me.”

He nailed it, you think. You are addicted…the way he kisses, the way he touches, the way he fucks, the way he just exists in front of you.

“I am.” You tell him, eyes on his while you lower your face to his cock, wasting no time in wrapping your lips around the head.

“y/n…” Jimin whimpers your name, his eyes closing for a moment. “I love this…love this…”

You know he does. You know this addiction has you doing things you both agreed you wouldn’t do because you couldn’t—because you shouldn’t. Yet here you are, pleasing Jimin until he tenses beneath you and spilling all of his warm cum into your mouth. And here he is drowning in you all over again.

~~~~~

“What is up with them?” You whisper to Hoseok, both of you staring at Naomi and Jeremy from across the table as they blatantly ignore one another.

“By the way, y/n…” Jeremy gets your attention but stops midway to take a bite of his lunch, “It’s Wednesday, don’t forget to help me print out my report.”

“Uh huh.” You nod, eyes going between him and Naomi. “Are you guys like…okay?”

“Us?” Naomi gestures between her and Jeremy. “Obviously. What great friends like us wouldn’t be okay?”

“Exactly.” Jeremy mumbles with his mouth full. “We’re amazing.”

“Oh dude, how was your date on Friday? What’s this one’s name again?” Hoseok asks, dipping pineapple into some sauce. “It was date two, right?”

Jeremy swallows his food before glancing at Naomi awkwardly, “Yeah, it was good. Her name is Mimi. I’m supposed to see her again sometime this weekend, maybe Saturday but I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Naomi stares ahead, eating her own lunch. “Right, you seem to not know a lot of things, huh?”

Jeremy rolls his eyes at this, “Anyway, she’s a nice girl—”

“Well, if you like her so much you should definitely go out with her again!” Naomi turns her head towards Jeremy and smiles. “But you know, don’t tell her you like her if you aren’t even sure though. That would be pretty fucked up.” She tells him, smile still on her face before she turns to look at you and Hoseok. “Right, guys? Imagine?”

“Yeah…” You blink at them, still so confused what is going on.

The four of you get back to your office and continue working for the day. It’s around 4 when your boss, Mr. Lincoln calls for a meeting. You groan, not wanting to get lectured again on whatever it is he wants improved. You and Hoseok share a look with one another as you take your seats in the meeting room, waiting for whatever it is Mr. Lincoln wants to scold your office for.

“Alright!” Mr. Lincoln claps his hands together, “I know most of you have already heard by now but I will be taking a leave for a few months! Some other business I have to attend to but no worries, my wife’s very capable nephew will be coming to fill in for a bit.”

“Great.” Hoseok leans in to whisper, his voice annoyed. “I bet this person doesn’t know shit.”

“Same.” You mutter back.

Mr. Lincoln glances at the two of you before he continues, “If you think I can be hard on you all then you will finally realize how easy it is here with me.” He starts to chuckle, shaking his head lightly. “My nephew takes his roles very seriously. Please keep that in mind when you try to goof off. You, especially.” He points at Hoseok, “I know how much you and your friends love to chat.”

“It’s y/n who always starts the conversations!” Hoseok tries to put the blame on you, “She’s the culprit!”

“Nonsense.” Mr. Lincoln looks at you now, “I know y/n is a very hard worker.”

Naomi and Jeremy start laughing at this and you just shrug, Hoseok glares at you while mouthing ‘he wants to fuck you’ when Mr. Lincoln isn’t looking. You just swat his arm and carry on.

“Friday will be my last day but no worries, I will be back everyone. Let’s work hard.”

You and Hoseok sit on his couches, finishing take out that you both decide wasn’t very good and probably too expensive. It’s only Wednesday and that thought alone sucks since you are so ready for this week to be over.

“I can’t believe you guys did it again.” Your best friends says, rubbing his belly from how full he is despite the food only being a like 5 out of 10. “Is this going to become a thing?”

“First,” You slide your food container away from you, “We didn’t do it again. Just…you know,”

“I love you but shut up.” Hoseok laughs. “It counts.”

“I’m so stupid, Hobi. We came to a whole ass conclusion that we shouldn’t yet we—”

“The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Or my vagina.” You deadpan.

“Normally I would agree but your secret garden didn’t even get any action so…”

“I guess that’s true.” You frown. “He’s so…he makes me…I don’t even know.”

“I think you do know.” Hoseok tells you bluntly, “You do know…but you won’t say it and I have no idea why. I’m your best friend. Just say exactly what you’re thinking.”

You stare at him before you scoff to yourself, “Hoseok, trust me. I’m not even thinking things in my brain with my brain voice the thoughts that my brain is even having. If I can’t even make my brain voice say those things how the hell do you think I’m going to get my mouth voice to do it?”

“Too many voices.” Hoseok shakes his head, “Anyway, I get it. I guess. But okay, let’s start there—have the thoughts in your head and like, hear them.”

“No thanks.” You tell him right away, “I’m good.”

“You’re being so—” Hoseok’s head shoots up when he hears his door bell ring. “Who is here?” He wonders, glancing at you but you shrug. Hoseok stands from his sofa and walks through his home to answer the front door. You can hear him open the door, whatever, whatever but your ears really perk up when you hear a voice that is all too familiar.

“Jimin?” You turn to see Hoseok and Jimin walk through, Jimin’s eyes expanding when he spots you.

“y/n?” He questions you in return. “You’re here?”

“…Yes. You’re here?”

“Yes…”

“And I’m here too!” Hoseok grins. “Ah, but maybe you guys wish I wasn’t,” He starts smirking. “You know, so you two could…” He wiggles his brows at both of you when Jimin’s eyes go wide.

“You told him?!” Jimin blurts out, his finger pointing at you.

“Of course I told him?!” You look at him incredulously, “Why wouldn’t I have? He’s my best friend!”

“True.” Hoseok nods in approval.

“Why are you shocked!” You shout, “Didn’t you tell anyone?!”

“Who am I going to tell?!” Jimin looks at you just as incredulously.

“Uh, Taehyung??”

“Taehyung?!” Jimin looks at you like you are insane. “Seriously? If I told Taehyung right now he would just…he would be so happy! He would literally start planning a wedding! You know…again.”

“Shit,” You tear your eyes away from his for a moment, “That’s totally understandable. So then why are you here?”

Jimin shifts awkwardly from one foot to another, his eyes going from you to Hoseok before he’s lifting a finger to point at your best friend. “Uh…” Jimin stares at you blankly. “To tell…him.”

“Of course.” You deadpan.

“Wait, really?” Hoseok lights up, grin growing. “You came here to talk to me about this stuff?”

“Yes?” Jimin looks a bit unsure. “If that’s cool?”

Hoseok lights up even more, “Of course that’s cool!” Then he looks at you, “y/n, hurry, go home.”

“What?” “Go home!” Hoseok whines. “I want to hear everything from Jimin’s perspective.” Then he glances at Jimin, “Because I, you know, care.”

“He’s just nosey as fuck.” You tell Jimin with a straight face as you stand from the couch, “But fine, you’re lucky, I was wanting to go home anyway.”

You are curious, of course. So curious actually. So curious in fact that you’ve texted Hoseok like 8 times but he still hasn’t answered and it’s already almost midnight. You are wondering what Jimin told Hoseok, what his thoughts are—his feelings. You want to know. But don’t you already know? Didn’t he already tell you everything? You’re wondering if you should give up on Hoseok texting you back and just wait until tomorrow at work to get answers. But right when you think you’re giving up, your phone goes off.

Hobi:)) 11:56pm

I shoulda known I was gonna come find my phone with a bunch of texts from you and YOU call ME nosey!!!!

Hobi:)) 11:56pm

But ok wow. Tonight was a lot

Hobi:)) 11:56pm

Like a lot

y/n 11:56pm

what happened??? What did he tell you?

Hobi:)) 11:58pm

He told me maybe everything? He told me about emma dude…that shit hurted. Anyway so much stuff makes sense now…he also told me why he broke your heart and stuff and like I said…so much stuff makes sense

y/n 12:01am

Hobi:)) 12:02am

Yeeeeaah…but umm he did also tell me about you guys hooking up and also what you guys talked about

y/n 12:03am

okay and

Hobi:))12:08am

And I feel like he didn’t tell you everything

y/n 12:08am

???

y/n 12:08am

what are you talking about

Hobi:)) 12:09am

Im just saying I don’t think he told you everything

Hobi:)) 12:09am

Like based on what you told me he said, I don’t think he told you everything and also he said even more stuff tonight and idk kinda feels like you two need to talk again

y/n 12:12am

genuinely so confused

y/n 12:12am

just tell me?

Hobi:)) 12:13am

No no no this is something that needs to come from him…im not saying he intentionally didn’t tell you something but I think he might have something to say or idk. Idk how to explain it but look regardless figure your shit out with joon cuz this is gonna get messy fast

y/n 12:20am

wtf hobi

Hobi:)) 12:22am

Im team jimin btw. Hes a good guy y/n and you know this already and I know things sucked for a while but he does care about you and I care about you and I want to see you happy and isn’t that jimin?

Hobi:)) 12:40am

You aren’t replying so I know im right. But I also know something else…because jimin is the one that makes you happy that’s why you wont choose him right? Because the happier a person can make you also means this person can also make you the saddest and youre terrified of that I get it y/n but that thought breaks my heart and I hope I am wrong

y/n 12:43am

goodnight hobi

~~~~~

It’s Thursday evening when Jimin calls you, asking if he can come over and talk to you about something—obviously you say yes but not even a minute after you hang up with him, your phone is ringing again. Namjoon.

“Hello?” you answer pretty quickly. You haven’t really heard from him all week since he’s been out of town.

“Hey.” He sounds tired, exhausted even. “You busy?”

“Not currently, why?”

“Well, first,” Namjoon pauses, his voice still sounding tired but you can tell he’s smiling. “How was your day?”

“It was good.” You respond, “Tiring.”

“Tell me about it. I’m actually back in town, just got home and I thought I’d see if you wanted to come over for a little while? I have an early morning but I would love to see you even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“Oh.” You stare at nothing, thinking about how Jimin is probably already on his way. “I—”

“I really need to see you.” Namjoon chuckles, “It has not been a very good week.”

“Oh.” You say much softer. “Okay…Um, I can leave in a few minutes then.”

“Perfect, be safe on your way here.”

You and Namjoon hang up and you feel a bit of dread as you dial Jimin’s number and to call him and let him know he can no longer come hang out with you. He answers on the second ring.

“Hey.” He sounds nice on the other line, his voice something so soothing to you.

“Hey…”

“What’s up? You okay?”

“Actually,” You pause, wondering how it will feel for him. “Namjoon just called and he’s home and wants to see me but I was going to tell him no but—”

“It’s okay.” Jimin cuts in, “If you need to cancel, I get it.”

“It’s not that I just want to cancel on you, Jimin. He just sounds like he had a bad week and—”

“It’s okay. I get it.” Jimin tells you, voice soft. “Are you staying there?”

“No, I don’t think so. It’s just a for a little while.”

“Okay…want to come by my place after you see him? I still want to talk to you.”

“Yeah.” You breathe out, “I can do that.”

You’re barely even finishing knocking on Namjoon’s door when he’s already swinging it open and pulling you inside.

“Hi.” He brings you close to him, his arms wrapping around your body as he embraces you tightly. “I missed you.”

“Hi.” You say back, the word getting lost into his t shirt as he squeezes you to his chest.

You’re nervous to be here to be honest. You plan on telling Namjoon about what you’ve done with Jimin but you’re waiting for the right timing.

“I had the shittiest week.” He tells you, “I just need you around to feel better.”

And you are realizing maybe this isn’t the right timing. Namjoon finally peels himself off of you, holding you at arm’s length and smiling the kind of smile that makes you feel weaker.

But even this smile lacks in joy. He’s tired. He’s looking beat from the week. He’s looking like he only needs to hear good things.

Namjoon takes a deep breath before hugging you again.

“What happened?” You finally ask. “Is everything okay?”

Namjoon leads you to his cream sofa, taking a seat next to you and starts telling you about his week.

“Honestly, my writing is just…I’m in a funk, maybe? But everything has been garbage…at least to me. Emiko has been trying to cheer me up but she’s going through her own stuff and she’s just…she’s probably had a worse week than me.” Namjoon sighs, “She just doesn’t realize she deserves so much better—anyway. Two, yes two, of the meetings I had this week to set up for the tour this summer got canceled because they’re pulling out! Like, pulling out altogether so that’s great news.” He frowns now, his fingers rubbing his temple. “It just feels like things with my career aren’t progressing the way I want them to but also, Emiko is my agent and she works so hard but…”

“But what?”

“I know she’s going through a really tough time. And I can’t really help her and that bugs me. Sorry, I’m just…I hate when I can’t be there for someone I care about.”

You smile at Namjoon because that sounds just like him. “I’m sure she knows you are here for her, Joon.”

“She doesn’t want me to be. That’s the thing.” His frown deepens. “She made a huge deal about us needing to be more professional…that at the end of the day she’s just my agent. That hurt, you know?”

“Oh.” You feel your heart hurt for him, “That would hurt. For sure. But she’s probably just saying that because she’s dealing with whatever is going on with her. Maybe she’s trying to push you away but even if you have to just stay by her side silently…she will appreciate it.”

Namjoon’s lips finally lift into a smile, “You’re right.” He tells you, “I’m just…I’ve known her almost my whole life. I hate seeing her in a bad mood, I guess.”

“You’re very sweet.”

And he is…he is very sweet.

“Thank you, y/n. I knew talking to you and seeing you would be something that would make me feel better.”

You only nod at him, guilt starting to bubble over but you try to push that away as you come to your decision. Namjoon is a good man, a very good man and you would be stupid as hell to lose this.

“Hey, I’m leaving Namjoon’s. I know it’s late but did you still want me to come over?” You ask Jimin over the phone, “I can be there in 20.”

“Actually,” Jimin’s voice sounds a little muffled, “I’m kind of already at your place.”

“Huh?”

“I was feeling bored so I just came here. I’m just outside, chillin.”

“Oh.” You turn, driving through a neighborhood as you start making your way to your place instead. “Okay, sounds good. I’ll see you in a bit then.”

“Okay, be safe. See you soon.” And then he is hanging up.

You arrive to your place not too much later, walking up to your apartment when you see Jimin sitting outside your door, dark hair looking longer, blowing in the breeze.

You greet him casually as you unlock your front door and you both make your way inside.

Jimin slips his shoes off and is already making his way to your living room, plopping down on the couch. You eye him over as you take off your own shoes, “You okay?” You ask.

Jimin looks a little odd—maybe nervous or anxious, his leg shaking up and down. He just nods his head but you can see how he swallows hard.

“Okay…” You walk towards him, taking a seat next to him.

“How was Namjoon’s?” Jimin asks, “Did you tell him?”

“Did I—oh, no. He uh, he was having a hard time and I didn’t want to potentially make it harder so I haven’t…”

Jimin stops shaking his leg as he nods slowly, “Oh. I see.” “But I made my decision.” You look Jimin in the eye but he grows a little confused.

“About?”

“Namjoon.”

Jimin eyes’ go wide before he’s gesturing for you to continue.

“If Namjoon still wants a relationship with me even after I tell him what we did…I’m going to agree. I’m going—”

“Wait.” Jimin’s eyes search yours, “Wait, wait. What?”

“Yeah. I’m going to, you know, be his girlf—” “That’s…” Jimin’s gaze falls to your lap. “That’s what you want?”

“Yes.” You tell him. “It is.”

“It’s what you want because you like him. Right?” His eyes find yours again, but they have hardened.

“Y-Yeah.”

Jimin stares at you for moments too long, his gaze making you feel nervous but he finally tears his eyes from you, licks his drying lips and stands from the couch. “Okay. I really wish you good luck, y/n. I hope this works out.”

“Thanks…” You mumble, your eyes on his back. “What—what did you want to talk about though?”

He turns to face you, a small smile on his lips. “It’s nothing now. Don’t worry. I’m going to head home but we’ll talk soon, yeah?”

~~~~~

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck—”

“What?!” You shout at Hoseok, who sits at his desk beside you, “Why are you freaking out?”

“Dae just texted me.” He tells you, “And it’s…”

“It’s? It’s what?”

“Holy shit. What am I going to do?” He drags his hands down his face, “We have barely spoken since you know what, but now this???”

“What?”

“Apparently, Taehyung and Dae are going to get here this evening. She said Taehyung planned it and is wanting her to come so he doesn’t fall asleep on the drive…plus in his eyes—well, in his eyes I didn’t,” He lowers his voice into a whisper, “you know, fuck his sister and leave her the next morning!”

“Oh, damn.” You can’t help but smirk. “This should be entertaining.”

“He wants all of us to go out tonight for drinks,” Hoseok groans, “Jeremy and Jimin already confirmed they’d go but they don’t have to see Dae!”

“They will see Dae?”

“Yeah but they don’t have to see her after they’ve,” He lowers his voice again, “Fucked her!”

“True. But uh, Jimin said he would go?” You try to act nonchalant, eyes going back to your screen. “Cool.”

“Why are you being weird?” Hoseok accuses you right away. “Did something happen?”

“I wish I knew.” You tell him, “He’s barely talking to me today.”

“For real? He’s been blowing my phone up.” Hoseok shrugs, “Wait, once again, did something happen?”

“He came over to talk last night, uh, I told him I was going to give things with Namjoon a shot and he got weird and left. I texted him asking is he got home safe, blah, blah but anyway, he’s been so dry with me.”

“He came to talk but you told him…are you serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me you aren’t serious.”

“But I am serious.”

“I know you aren’t that dumb, y/n.” Hoseok tells you with a straight face. “You really—”

“I made my decision, Hoseok.” You glance at your phone when you see a text from Dae. “Anyway, I’ll tell Naomi. I guess we are all hanging out tonight.”

Present

“No, no, no.” Taehyung looks at everyone with shocked eyes. “Dae?! Even you?!”

“Yes, even me, brother.” She looks unimpressed, taking another sip of her drink just for fun now.

“Hold on. Jimin?! But also…y/n?! Wait,” He slurs, a grin starting to form. “I will be the happiest man alive if you guys both had sex at the same time.” Then he looks a little puzzled, “I mean because it was you know,” He starts thrusting his pointing finger inside a hole he made with his other hand’s fingers. “Together.”

“Jeez, Taehyung.” You grumble, “Yeah, whatever. We did.” You look across the table to see Jimin who just sits here, eyes on his drink only.

“What?!” Taehyung shouts, “How?! How did that happen?! Oh my god, I have so many questions but I need to continue down this list. Okay, skipping Dae…Hoseok?! Who did you have sex with in the last week???”

Hoseok gulps, his eyes accidentally going straight to Dae and Taehyung is pretty quick to pick up what Hoseok is putting down.

“Wait, wait.” Taehyung points between Hoseok and Dae. “My…my sister?! Ah, come on, man! Not my sister! I know I wanted you to find someone! But not my sister!!!!”

“Why? You don’t think I’m good enough for your friend, Taehyung?” Dae rolls her eyes, “Don’t worry, he doesn’t seem to think so either.”

“Hey, I never said that.” Hoseok says, voice only directed at Dae. “I—seriously I don’t think that, Dae. I’m sor—”

“Moving the fuck on,” Taehyung looks at Jeremy now. “Jeremy?! Oh my god, was it the girl you went out with last week? She is pretty hot, bro. Surprised you didn’t tell us in the group chat though!”

Jeremy glances around the table before reaching for his glass and chugging the remainder of his drink.

“I’m curious too actually.” You look over at Jeremy, “You didn’t say anything. And Naomi, who the hell did you sleep with? I’m so confused…have you been seeing someone? Wait!” You look at her shocked, “Did you meet someone and had a one night stand?!”

Naomi reaches for her glass as well and starts chugging.

“Is this…” Dae glances around the table, “Is this not obvious to everyone?”

“They aren’t the brightest here.” Jimin finally says something, mumbling at he sips his drink again.

“Jeremy, you slept with Mimi?” Hoseok pats his back, “You didn’t even tell us!”

“Mimi this, Mimi that.” Naomi mocks, “Hate to break it to you guys,” She lifts her head and looks at everyone, “But I just don’t think Jeremy is that into her.”

“Naomi, stop.” Jeremy warns, “We already—”

“We already what?” She rolls her eyes.

“You don’t even like the way I talk to girls! You think the ‘weird’ poetry shit I do is cringey!” Jeremy suddenly shouts, “You hate it!”

“I do think it is cringey!” Naomi shouts back, you all look at these two confused as hell. “But I don’t hate it, you dumbass.”

“You do hate it! You think it’s cringe??!?!”

“Yes, it’s literally the cringiest shit but I don’t hate it!”

“What the hell is happening?” You ask, looking at Hoseok and he’s just as confused as you.

“That doesn’t even make sense?!” Jeremy tells Naomi, “You’re driving me crazy!”

“It does make sense!” Naomi looks frustrated, “You know…okay, you know that weird ass shoulder dance y/n does?”

“Why are you bringing me into this?” You ask with a straight face.

“Yeah,” Jeremy nods, eyeing Naomi wondering where she is going with this. “It’s literally the worst thing I have ever seen.”

“Exactly! It’s so horrible and disgusting and so fucking—”

“Yeah, it’s absolutely cringe.” Hoseok adds his two cents.

“What the hell is happening?” You ask, “How did this become about me??”

“We always tell y/n we hate it and it’s so cringey but we laugh our asses off every time she does it and we know she’s always going to do it, right? We think it’s the worst thing we’ve ever seen but we love it, don’t we?” Naomi looks at Jeremy, “It’s the worst but we love it. We never want her to stop the stupid thing she does with her shoulders.”

Jeremy’s mouth falls open a little as he realizes what Naomi is saying, “Wait. Are you…”

“Your poetry is cringe Jeremy but I love it because it’s yours and it’s you and god, you’re so stupid.” Naomi stands from her chair, “I’m going to get another drink.”

“I’m coming with you.” Dae stands as well, “Suddenly I want to get black out drunk.”

“Wait, wait.” You stop the girls from leaving. “But who did you have sex with, Naomi??”

“Are you serious…” Dae shakes her head at you, “It’s so obvious girl, come on.”

“It’s really not?” You question, eyes going to Hoseok who is just as lost as you.

“Yeah, I don’t get it either.” Hoseok tells you guys, “Jimin and y/n, Me and …Dae…and uh, Jeremy with Mimi but who’s your person?”

“Ha!” Naomi rolls her eyes harder than ever, “Mimi! Yeah fucking right. He didn’t go home with Mimi last Friday. Did you Jeremy? He came to my place after their little date and I’m sure you guys can figure out the rest.”

“I’m literally…figure what out?” You look at Hoseok and he shrugs.

“Oh my god…” Jimin huffs out, “Jeremy went to Naomi’s place after his date and somehow ended up fucking Naomi.”

“What?” You blink at Jimin before you snort, Hoseok joining you immediately, “Yeah, there is no way.”

“You guys are so dense.” Dae deadpans. “It was in front of you guys this whole time.”

You and Hoseok are still laughing but when Jeremy and Naomi don’t say anything you guys start quieting down, confusion growing more and more.

“Wow.” Taehyung glances at Aeri, “You are never wrong about these things!”

Aeri starts laughing drunkenly, “I told you!”

“This is…I’m just going to go home and get drunk now.” Naomi groans, “Dae, you in?”

“Hell yeah, I will never say no to something like that.”

“y/n?” Naomi asks you as well but you’re still looking between here and Jeremy and wondering how you missed this.

“Uh,” You blink at her before your eyes find Jimin. “Actually, I’m going to stay for a bit.”

“Suit yourself.” Dae says, spinning in her spot to leave.

“Wait, Dae—” Hoseok stands from his chair but her and Naomi wave everyone off before they head out.

“This is crazy.” Jeremy mumbles, “Naomi…oh god.”

“So you fucked Naomi but then what?” Taehyung slurs.

“I uh, told her I didn’t mean to do that because we’re friends…good friends.” Jeremy looks down at the table, “Then she went on about how we are for sure just friends…so she obviously regretted it, right? Anyway, It’s been hell since.”

“Well,” Hoseok lips set into a straight line. “This week is suddenly making so much sense.”

“Okay, now to the pairing I am most curious about.” Taehyung shows you all a mischievous grin, “Jimin, care to explain how you sexed up our wonderful y/n?” He winks at you both, making Aeri giggle more.

Jimin sighs out, his hand sweeping through his hair as he stands. “It doesn’t matter. Doesn’t feel appropriate to talk about when she basically has a boyfriend.”

“But they aren’t tech—”

“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Jimin smiles at Taehyung. “She’s into him and going to take that next step!” And then he’s walking off towards the bar.

“Next st—”

“Jimin.” You stand too, walking after him.

“Oh.” Aeri sways into Taehyung’s side, “It’s just us now! Well, us and the guy who had sex with your sis—”

“LALALALA!”

“Jimin!” You call for the man, trying your best to catch up with him. He gets to the bar and you finally make it by his side, leaning against the bar top as you stare at his side profile. “Can you just tell me what is wrong?”

“Nothing.” He stares ahead but you aren’t buying it—obviously.

“Can you just…can you look at me?” Your hand goes to his shoulder and he tenses beneath your touch. “Jimin?”

He sighs out heavily before turning to face you, his eyes locking with yours when you decide you can easily read him but you don’t want to. You don’t want to read everything he is saying but he tells you anyway.

“This is a mistake, y/n.” He tells it to you straight.

“What is?”

“Namjoon.”

Yeah, you scoff at this because to be frank—it annoys you. It irks you that he isn’t supporting your decision about Namjoon. And you cannot figure out why 100%.

“Okay.” You brows pull up quickly before you relax them. “That’s cool.”

“It’s all for the wrong reasons and you know it.” The tone of his voice chooses to annoy you more than anything. “You aren’t in love with him.”

“I don’t need to be in love with him, I just need to like him. God, it does not have to be that deep.”

“You like him the same way you liked the pet fish you had your freshmen year.”

“Just stop,”

“No.”

“You’ve been cold to me because you don’t think I should date Namjoon? That seems immature.”

“It’s not…” Jimin’s eyes soften, “Maybe I am immature. But I am only telling you this because I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret later…”

“So none of your reasons are selfish ones?” You snap, Jimin’s brows pulling together before he breaks his eye contact with you to stare at the floor. “I need this Jimin.”

“Need what?”

Yeah, need what? That’s a great question. You’re letting something take over you, something close to a frustration but you aren’t sure what. This feels like something is coming to the surface—something not even the voice in your head has spoken yet.

“How is it…” Your voice is cold towards him, “That you got to move on and experience love again but I never got to? How come you got to but I never did? What? You think me trying my hardest to have something new for myself is bad? Is a fucking mistake? Rich coming from someone who already got this chance.”

Jimin’s eyes rise to meet yours and it feels like a punch to the gut. His eyes are full of something close to pain yet he tries to smile.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” He tells you quietly, softly even. “I shouldn’t be trying to…” He pauses, swallowing hard to calm himself. “You’ve made your decision. I don’t know if I don’t want you to be with Namjoon for selfish reasons or because I really do think you aren’t doing the right thing. Maybe it’s both.” He tries to smile a little more. “Yeah, it’s both.”

“W-What are your selfish reasons?” You find yourself asking but Jimin just scoffs to himself, smile still in place.

“You already know them.” He tells you simply. “The night we talked about what we did—the sex. We said the things we were going to discuss were, how it went, what it meant, why did we do it and what do we do now.”

“I remember.” You tilt your head, “What about it?”

“We knew how it went. We talked about why we did it and what we do now but neither of us had an answer for ‘what it meant’ and I didn’t tell you the truth. You said you didn’t know and I agreed. But I lied, y/n.” His smile is still in place and it makes you feel anxious. Especially because his eyes are void of any positive emotion.

“You lied?”

“Yeah,” He hums. “I know what it meant to me.”

“What…what did it mean to you, Jimin?”

“Why would I even need to tell you that when you’ve already made your decision, y/n?” His smile starts dropping. “I told you that you’re afraid of having a love again like what you had with me and you said ‘maybe’ but I think the thing you’re afraid of is me.” Jimin’s eyes bore into yours, his gaze so intense as they gloss over. “And,” He gulps. “I fucking get it. Because I,” He pauses, gaze still set on you as he tries to push down his emotions. “I am also so fucking afraid of you.”

#bts #park jimin #bts smut #jimin smut #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin fluff #jimin angst #Kim namjoon #love again chapter 12

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doubleleoenergy · 3 years ago

Text

Cool for the Summer

Even if they judge, fuck it, I'll do the time. I just wanna have some fun with you.

Pairing: parentsbestfriend!Steve Rogers x fem!reader x parentsbestfriend!Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, use of pet names (princess), mommy kink, daddy kink, mentions of alcohol, y/n is 18, slight size kink, threesome.

Words: 2700 (I’m so sorry, I got carried away)

Summary: One pair of drunken kisses turned to much more. Now at the biggest pool party, y/n is ready for a hot girl summer.

Notes: This is my submission for @agentofbarnes‘s The Agency’s Writing Challenge. I chose to write for dadsbestfriends/momsbestfriend au, secret relationship, and Steve Rogers + Natasha Romanoff. This is the type of sandwich I’d love to be between. I apologize for being such a whore with this.

“Y/N, can you please grab the two bags of ice from the ice chest in the garage? We need to fill up the other coolers before we add the drinks.”

“Yes mom!” Y/N cried out to her mother, tossing a large flamingo floatie into their pool before heading towards the garage. It was their annual Summer pool party, the biggest party of the season for y/n’s parents. Her parents invited all their friends and family, including everyone at S.H.I.E.L.D.

Y/N’s mother and father were both agents with S.H.I.E.L.D. and had been working with the Avengers team closely for years. She remembered visiting the tower when she was nine, a picture of her visit still hanging proudly in her bedroom. It had been years since she personally went to visit, but many of the team members visited her parents often.

That included her super-secret lovers Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff.

It happened by complete chance last July. Her parents were on a mission for three weeks, leaving y/n alone to take care of their two dogs and to watch over the house. Of course, her parents were nervous to leave their eighteen-year-old daughter home alone for that long, asking many of their colleagues to stop in occasionally to check in on her. The Friday of their second week gone, y/n had gotten wine drunk, having snuck a bottle of her parents' expensive chardonnay from their wine cellar.

She was halfway through the bottle when they came, Steve and Natasha. They found her dancing to some pop song in the living room, her right hand holding up the bottle of wine to her lips. Steve and Natasha had grabbed the bottle from her hand, but not before she kissed them both; Steve first for a rough kiss and Nat last for a soft one.

Y/N didn’t remember anything the next day, but Steve and Nat showed up again to remind her. About 30 minutes after they had explained what happened the night before Y/N ended up with Nat’s head between her thighs and Steve’s cock in her mouth.

They had spent the next week before her parents came home together. Then afterwards, Steve and Nat told y/n that they had to keep what they had a secret, that no one would understand. They had all hung out a few times before y/n went off to college and then a few times during her college years when she was home on break.

The last time y/n saw Nat and Steve was during her Spring Break, two months ago, and she couldn’t wait to see them at the party. She had worn her skimpiest pink striped bikini for the occasion, ready to show off her hot-girl-summer body.

Y/N lifted one bag of ice on each shoulder, carrying it into the backyard and starting to fill the coolers while her father packed them with an assortment of beer, seltzers, soda, and water. “Honey, are you excited to see everyone now that you’re back from summer break?” Her father asked, wiping a few beads of sweat off his brow.

“Yeah, some more than others.” She muttered, shrugging her shoulders. After fixing up the coolers with her father, y/n helped her parents set out the snacks, decorate the backyard, and bring out the large speakers to play music.

It was already one o’clock when guests started to arrive, parking along their circle drive as well as up and down their street. Y/N was instructed by her father to wait by the back gate and greet the guests as they came in, giving each guest a cheap lei that her mom had ordered from Party City.

Guest after guest, dozens of lei’s later, she spotted them. Nat and Steve drove together, of course, and they looked as striking as always. Nat was dressed in a blood red string bikini top, her cutoff shorts hanging off her hips as she walked. Steve looked incredibly toned in a white t-shirt that clung to his muscles, a pair of red board shorts hugging his thighs to match Nat’s bikini top.

Y/N’s eyes met both their gazes, her figure standing up straighter to accentuate her breasts. Nat and Steve’s eyes trailed up and down her body, Steve’s cock stirring in his shorts.

“Aloha Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff.” She purred; her voice sickly sweet like candy.

“It’s nice to see you again, y/n.” Steve mentioned casually, a large grin spreading across his features. The pair bent forward to receive their lei’s, y/n’s fingers trailing a little longer on each of their neck’s, her nails sending shivers down their spines.

“There’s plenty of drinks and food, and the pool is perfectly chilled. I might take a dip myself.” Y/N gave them a seductive wink before gesturing them in the gate so that she could continue to greet the guests.

Two hours in and the pool party was raging. Y/N’s parents mingled about with the guests, hopping from group to group. As the party continued, Steve and Nat’s eyes followed y/n as she spoke with guests, handed out drinks, and refilled the snacks on the picnic table. They watched the way her ass bounced in her bikini bottoms, how her hips swayed to the music as she danced with a group of friends, and the way her body looked soaking wet as she stepped out of the pool.

She knew what she was doing, trying to rile them up so they’d crack during the party. There were so many guests, what were the chances of anyone even noticing them if they went missing for a while? Y/N needed Steve and Natasha, bad, and she was willing to do whatever it took to get them.

Her body was still dripping wet from the pool, her hair caressing her face. She sauntered across the backyard to one of the coolers, digging her nimble fingers under the ice until she found what she was looking for. Pulling off the wrapper she revealed a red, white, and blue bomb pop, how fitting. Y/N met Steve’s gaze, sashaying her hips back and forth as she stalked towards them.

“Hi Captain, enjoying the view?” She questioned, tilting her head to look up at him. He had about a foot or more on her, making her crane her neck to meet his ocean blue eyes.

“I know I have. What about you, Nat?” He tilted his head to the left, eyes landing on Natasha.

“Definitely. What’cha got there, pretty girl?”

“Just a bomb pop. It’s so hot out, I needed to cool off.” Her lips finally meet the popsicle, engulfing the tip and swirling her tongue around it, a devilish look flashing in her eyes. Natasha clenches her thighs together, thinking of how good it would feel to have the woman’s lips between them.

Y/N teases the popsicle against her lips, pushing it deeper until she gags lightly, her gaze locked with Steve’s own as she does. The same noise she usually made around his cock, he almost pushed her to her knees right then and there. She pulled the popsicle out of her mouth, a string of saliva connecting her lips to the tip.

“You sure you don’t want some?” That was the last straw for Natasha, pulling the stick out of y/n’s hands before tossing the popsicle into the grass beside them. Natasha leans in close, her breath tickling y/n’s ear.

“Go to your room and wait on the bed. Now.” She commanded, pulling away from y/n and changing her expression as to not draw any attention to the throuple. Y/N nodded her head, her own expression flashing with excitement as she moved across the lawn and headed inside her home.

Her bedroom was up on the second floor, away from all the chaos downstairs. Only a few of the guests lingered inside, walking in and out of the first-floor bathroom, some leaning against the kitchen counter in conversation.

Y/N slipped silently up the steps, tiptoeing to her bedroom and shutting the door behind her. Her heart was beating loudly in her chest, stealing a quick glance at herself in the mirror. Her hair was slightly wild from her dip in the pool, her body glistening with a mix of sweat and pool water. Y/N walked over to the bed, her head resting against a pillow, her legs bent and open, waiting for her lovers to arrive.

Steve and Natasha made their way into the house ten minutes later, conversing politely with the few guests who still lingered inside, waiting until they walked out towards the rest of the attendees before making their way up the wooden staircase. Steve is the first to make it to the door, opening it and smiling at the sight of y/n splayed out before them.

“My my, princess. You sure know how to rile us both up. Couldn’t even behave until the end of the party you’re that desperate?” Steve tosses his shirt to the floor after Nat shuts and locks the door behind them, the redhead following suit as she started to undress as well.

“She just loves to tease, but she’ll pay for it now.” Nat stalked over to the bed, getting on her knees beside the edge and gesturing y/n with her fingers to join her. Steve stepped out of his board shorts last, his thick cock bouncing against his chest as he moved over to where Natasha was kneeling beside the bed, y/n getting on her knees beside her, still dressed in her bikini.

“Nat, baby, how about you help our princess undress while she keeps her mouth busy on my cock.” He commanded, stroking his length in his right hand. Natasha nodded her head, moving behind y/n and pulling at the string of her bikini top, letting it unravel and slide forward off her chest.

Steve stepped forward, his cock slapping gently against y/n’s cheek. “Go on princess.” Y/N swallows thickly, the size of his cock always surprising her, no matter how many times she saw it. Her hand reached up to stroke his length, her tongue swirling around the tip, eliciting a groan from Steve’s lips.

Natasha busied herself by reaching over y/n’s back to knead and pinch at her perky breasts, y/n’s eyes fluttering shut as she took Steve’s cock into her mouth, her hand moving down to fondle with his balls. She bobbed her head back and forth, grinding her still clothed core against her carpet.

“Aw Steve look, our princess is getting needy.” Nat took a fistful of y/n’s hair into her hand, ripping her off Steve’s cock and tilting her back to make eye contact with her. “You know what to do, a pretty princess like you has to ask for what she wants.”

Y/N whined, bucking her hips up to draw attention to her bikini bottoms. “Please mommy, please touch my pussy.”

Nat hummed in response, releasing her hand from y/n’s hair, pushing her in the direction towards Steve’s cock once again. Y/N wastes no time, opening her mouth and looking up at Steve, her long eyelashes batting coyly. “Daddy, will you fuck my mouth while mommy plays with my pussy?” She asked sweetly.

Steve almost came immediately from her statement, his thumb sweeping lovingly across her lips before his hand moved to grip at her hair, looping it around his hand to lock her in place before sliding her mouth forward and back onto his cock.

Steve started to fuck her face slowly while Natasha moved her hand down to undo the strings of y/n’s bottoms, pulling them out from underneath her before she tossed them across the room. Her hands caress y/n’s hips as Steve moves in and out of her mouth, faster this time. Y/N’s saliva dripped from her mouth and onto the carpet as Natasha snaked her hand down to y/n’s folds, her fingers immediately covered in her slick.

Nat dipped one of her perfectly manicured fingers into her heat, y/n humming around Steve’s cock in response. She continued to work her finger in and out before adding another finger, Natasha’s lips trailing wet kisses down her neck.

“So wet, princess. You want your daddy to fuck your tight cunt?” Nat purred, adding a third finger into her soaking hole. Y/N couldn’t answer, her mouth stuffed full of Steve’s cock, her nose touching his pelvic bone. He held her down, y/n sputtering as tears welled in her eyes, watching her face turn red before he pulled her off abruptly, her body collapsing back against Natasha’s.

Y/N gasped for air, her saliva dripping from her mouth down her chin and bare breasts. Natasha’s fingers sped up inside y/n, her orgasm building fast. “Mommy, may I cum please?” She mewled, looking up at her with pleading eyes.

“Yes princess, cum now. Daddy’s waiting to fuck you.” Her orgasm ripped through her, her walls tightening around Natasha’s fingers as she fucked her through the pleasure. Slowly, her breathing slowed down again, and Natasha removed her fingers from her core. Nat opened her pouty lips, licking y/n’s slick off her fingers happily. “You taste so good, our pretty girl. Now I want you to get on the bed on all fours for daddy.”

Y/N followed the instructions, crawling up onto the bed and getting on her hands and knees, arching her back and sticking up her plump ass. Steve’s hand was soft against her ass cheek, fondling it in his hand as he rubbed his cock against her folds with his other hand. He braced one hand against her back, sliding his cock in slowly, savoring the feeling of her tight cunt swallowing him.

“Always so tight, princess. The prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen. Isn’t that right, mommy?” Steve moved his cock slowly back out of her pussy before slamming in fast, causing y/n to fall forward as she cried out in pleasure.

“It is the prettiest.” Nat agreed, moving onto the bed until her thighs opened, her pussy on full display. She scooted her body until her thighs were on either side of y/n’s head, gripping her chin and pulling her head up to look at her. “Put that pretty mouth to use and make mommy cum.” She instructed, y/n’s tongue sticking out to lick a strip up to Natasha’s clit.

Natasha rested her weight on her elbows, watching y/n swirl her tongue around her clit, moaning at the sight. Steve continued to fuck into y/n, pushing her face deeper into Natasha’s pussy. His cock rocked fast into her, y/n humming with her face against Nat’s cunt.

“That’s it, princess. Let daddy fuck you into mommy’s pussy. You keep that up and you’re going to make me cum on your pretty tongue.” Natasha’s eyes met Steve. “You look so good daddy, so hot when you’re fucking our princess.”

Steve’s breathing was ragged, his hips slapping rapidly against y/n. “Cum on her tongue, mommy. Give our princess your sweet nectar.” Natasha bucked her pussy against her face, hitting her orgasm as y/n licked up all of Nat’s juices that flowed from her. Y/N continued to lap at Natasha, working her through her orgasm as she came on Steve’s cock, her walls clenching around him.

“Fuck, that’s it princess, make a mess on daddy’s cock. Gonna fill this pussy up princess, you deserve it for how happy you made mommy.” Steve thrust twice more before his hips stilled against her ass, groaning as he coated her walls with his cum. He stayed glued to her, pressing soft kisses to her spine as he relaxed his body, finally pulling out of her. His cock was wet with y/n’s cum, her pussy dripping their mixed cum onto the sheets.

“Did so good princess, let’s let mommy clean this up.” On cue, Natasha moved to take Steve’s place behind her, licking at her cunt to indulge in their mixed juices. Y/N’s body relaxed into the bed, letting Natasha clean her up.

Eventually, Natasha finished licking, pulling off to collapse next to y/n, her body spent as well from their escapades. Steve moved beside y/n, laying his head back against the pillow.

“My beautiful girls, I love you both so much. Best pool party I’ve ever attended.”

#agencyswritingchallenge #agentofbarnes #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff #marvel smut #marvel #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #natasha romanoff smut

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mercy-burning · 4 years ago

Text

Fake Fiancée

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer is left waiting at a bar when he gets in some trouble, and meets a woman who offers to help him out in more ways than one.

Category: SMUT (18+)

Warnings: Language, virgin!Spencer, car sex/exhibitionism, handjob, brief mention of edging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, degradation kink, minor voyeurism kink, dirty talk (If I missed anything, please let me know!)

Word Count: 7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hi, there!! Most of you have been extremely excited about this one since I shared the idea for it a few weeks ago, and so I’m glad to finally get to release it for you!! There’s a playlist here for you to check out if you’d like some ~vibes~ and over on @mercy-midnight I shared a few visual inspirations last night, so check them out if you want! Thank you for all your enthusiasm over this fic, I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🥰

***

I've always loved the rain.

And it was definitely going to rain soon. How soon, I wasn't entirely sure, but as I made my way into the bar, taking one final breath of fresh air before it would inevitably be taken over by alcohol, greasy food, and way too much cologne, I could smell it. Cool and fresh, waiting to serve as some type of fresh start, to wash away all the hard shit and give me a clean slate.

The gaudy ring on my finger was one of those hard things I wished I could wash away. At least, it had been for a long time. Patrick never asked for it back after he left, and I'd had every intention of pawning it off, but I started noticing—after a few nights out where I'd tried to get hammered and nailed—that it scared everybody off.

I guess no one wanted to fuck a married woman—and a drunk married woman at that. Even if she technically wasn't even married anymore. Which I found all particularly odd considering my experience with men in the past has proved to provide me with extremely low standards.

It'd turned out to be a blessing in disguise, though. Sure, it might have taken me longer to completely get over Patrick and the mess he left me, but rather than losing myself in the lonely company of strangers, I forced myself to reflect and move on, to take each day in stride and take time for myself. Could I have just taken the ring off and gotten laid? Absolutely. But being on my own like that was the wakeup call I didn't know I'd needed.

And now, almost a year later, the ring sat tucked away in my jewelry box until I wanted it— usually when I knew I was going to the bar with every intention of getting hammered and not nailed. There were the occasional persistent players, but they were few and far in between, and if all else failed I resorted to smiling sweetly at them and lying, saying my "husband" was a cop. That shut them up pretty quickly, and by that point I was ready to leave anyway.

Like I said, blessing in disguise.

After a long day at work being called in on a Saturday, a few drinks at Waterson's sounded like a perfect way to end the night. I'd gone home, showered, ate dinner, and got dressed before taking a walk down the block and crossing the near-packed parking lot. The air was quite muggy despite it only being around forty degrees, which was the first indicator of rain. The second was the smell, of course, which I'd always been fond of, and the cobbled pavement had some type of haze around it that served as the final confirmation of my theory.

Honestly, I was hoping to get caught in the rain on my way home. I couldn't tell you why, exactly, just that the idea of walking home in the rain gave me the most excitement I'd felt in a long time. Life was great at the moment, of course, but between work and my less than ideal commute there on the train every day, I think I was due for a little excitement.

That excitement, naturally, started once I opened the door to the bar, taking a step inside and quickly being smacked in the face with the smell of fried everything. A small smile crossed my lips as I went in further, jumbled conversations, glasses clinking, and music humming softly behind the sharp snaps of pool balls being shot forward with the cue completing the picture.

I walked up to the bar to find Carla standing behind it, and I smiled at her. "I didn't know you were working Saturday," I called to her as I approached.

The brunette looked over at me and beamed, her teeth as perfect as ever. "Y/N, I didn't know you came in on Saturdays! How've you been?"

I took a seat at one of the barstools, nodding as I set my wallet and my phone down. "Alright... Work's a bitch, of course, but when is it not?"

"Yeah, I hear that. There's only so much relentless flirting I can take." We shared a good laugh at that before she nodded. "What can I get you?"

"A beer?"

"You got it."

I turned around then, surveying tonight's crowd. Waterson's was decently sized— definitely not as big or popular as the other bars in the city, but it got enough traction on the weekends, and even on Tuesdays when they had open mics. As my eyes wandered, they passed over all kinds of people. Women in tight clothes and men all over them, large groups of friends over by the pool tables who were betting and yelling with large smiles on their faces, old men by themselves in some of the tucked away corners... Anyone you could think of, name it and they were there.

One scene in particular caught my eye, though, and I thought about leaving it alone, but my gut twisted when I noticed how obviously uncomfortable the person was and how there was no one around who seemed to care enough to say or do anything.

Sitting alone at a rather large table was a guy who... no offense to him or anything, but he didn't look like he belonged here, not alone anyway. With a formal button-down short sleeve, meek stature, and a pair of glasses sitting atop his nose, he was an easy target for the two men that were towering over him as he sat, eyes averting them while they conversed. It could have been nothing, but occasionally the man in the glasses would flinch or look around nervously like he was waiting to be rescued.

Not that I wanted to rescue anyone or anything tonight. But he reminded me of someone being stood up, and from experience I knew how embarrassing that was, especially in a space crowded with other people who could obviously see what was happening to you. I hated Patrick for standing me up time and time again, and it wasn't until this waitress once intervened and offered some advice that I started to understand just how fucked up it was. That didn't make it hurt any less, of course, when he inevitably said he was moving across the country and dropped divorce papers on my desk at work, but still... The talk gave me some clarity.

Whether or not this man was actually being stood up or not, it was obvious that he was uncomfortable, and I figured he could use some help.

And I had just the plan.

I watched the scene until Carla came back with my beer, at which point I turned to her with a smile and got money from my wallet.

"Hey, could I get another?"

***

"No, you specifically told me 8pm..."

"I'm pretty sure I told you 9..."

I sighed, glancing around briefly at everyone and everything around me before speaking again, almost yelling into the speaker over all the noise. "Maybe you meant 9, but you told me 8, so I'm here. Alone!"

"Hey, look, I'm sorry, Kid, alright? But we're not gonna be there until 9, so... keep yourself busy until then? Let loose, have a couple drinks..."

I could hear the smirk in Derek's voice just as easily as I could picture it in my head as I sighed out a, "Fine," and hung up. The whole situation significantly raised my blood pressure, not to mention my anxiety— It wasn't hard to see that I stood out here. Bars were most definitely not my scene, and the only reason I'd agreed to go in the first place was so that I could try something new. Expand my horizons, as Penelope had told me right before I caved and agreed to accompany her and Derek on their little outing. I'd even drove my car here, a move I rarely made, as a start.

But now I was sitting alone at a booth, a glass of water in front of me and this twisting sensation in my gut that usually came to me when I didn't know what was going to happen.

I leaned back in my seat and sighed, staring down the glass of water as my cellphone tumbled around between my hands. All I had to do was wait here for an hour and remind myself over and over that eventually I'd be with people that I knew, people that I felt comfortable around. Only an hour.

One hour...

One hour, one hour, one hour... It was a chant in my head that went through different pitches and speeds until it was interrupted by a loud, "Hey, you!"

It could have been for anyone, but it was right next to me, and I knew when I wasn't wanted somewhere.

Sure enough, I turned my head to see a rather large man, a football player-type if I had to guess, wearing a grey tee shirt that hugged every muscle. There was a beer in his hands, and someone next to him, another man slightly shorter but still definitely athletic, held what looked to be a glass of hard liquor. By the looks on their faces, it was obvious that they were looking for a fight.

And it was also obvious that I was the easiest target in the whole bar.

One glance at the clock across the room and above their heads told me that I still had 54 minutes until my friends showed up, and that meat I'd either have to give these men whatever they wanted, tell them I was just about to leave, or attempt to pull the "I'm a Federal Agent" card, which I knew would probably get more laughs from them than a simple, "Sorry," and an exit.

I was about to run through every outcome of tonight's events in my head when the bigger guy spoke again, making me jump.

"Hey, m' talking to you!" He was drunk, most likely toeing the line between sobriety and a fist fight if I wasn't careful.

"I—Is there something you need?" I asked, hoping that if I could get this over with quickly, they'd leave me alone and maybe I could get out of here...

He mocked my voice in a way I'd heard more than once while growing up, and though I knew it was childish of him, saying more about him than me, the action got to me more than I cared to admit. Call it intuition, but when a nearly-drunk guy two times your size starts picking on you like a kid and you know he's just looking for a fight, the odds aren't very good when you're someone on the smaller side like me— Federal Agent or not. And he wasn't an unsub. He wasn't someone I could pick apart and just hand over to my team once I pushed back his defenses. If I picked this man apart, he'd likely throw a punch at my face.

Of course, I could get him arrested for assaulting a Federal Agent, but... Obviously I didn't want to get punched in the face.

As soon as his mumbled mockery of my words ended, he punctuated them with his own. "Yeah, I'm thinkin' I need you to find a new place to sulk. Go to the library or somethin'."

His friend laughed beside him like he'd just said the best comeback anyone's ever heard, and that alone almost made me laugh. Though, I knew that might have gotten me into more trouble.

Speaking of, I probably should have just got up to leave. That would have been the perfect time to say, "Okay," get up, and drive home. Sure, Penelope and Derek would have probably given me crap about chickening out, but I'd have avoided getting beat around or ridiculed further by these morons, so it was overall a win, right?

But my stupid mouth didn't agree with what my brain was thinking. "Oh, well, um... I'm waiting up for some friends, they should be here soon—"

"You have friends?" the other guy retorted before I could finish, and he looked proud of himself for it.

"Look, I don't care who you're waitin' on, pal, Right now you're alone, so I want y—"

I didn't see it coming. I couldn't have seen it from a mile away, never dreamed of anything like this happening in a million years. It was certainly not one of the possible outcomes to the night that I'd had in mind. And actually, even if I'd had any time to prepare for it, seeing the woman walk up to us with two beers in her hand and the biggest smile on her face, I still wouldn't have believed what was happening.

She blocked me from the men's line of sight, sitting herself promptly on my lap as she set the drinks down. "Hey, babe, I'm back with our drinks," she chirped, leaning forward and stopping just under my ear, whispering. "If you play along, I can get them to leave you alone..."

She didn't even give me any time to process, quickly pulling back, but not before kissing me firmly on the cheek, leaving my face in a warm flush as she turned back around to survey the men, who I'd quite frankly forgotten about once she pressed her soft lips to my skin and set her hands on my chest.

What the fu—

"Who're you talking with?"

Her voice was so... low and smooth, and it sent a flood of warmth throughout my whole body. If I could have bottled up her voice to drink, I would have. But instead, I settled for the beer she'd brought, grabbing it and chugging down four big gulps even though I hated it.

"You're with this... loser?" the bigger of the two men said, and truthfully it was the first time all night I'd well and truly felt inadequate in front of them. Sure, I knew I'd stood out, that physically I was weaker than them, but I also knew that deep down they were just drunks looking for a fight. I was better than that, regardless of whether or not they'd almost bullied me into leaving the bar.

I didn't have a problem with who I was, but when it came to women, I was pretty much a total wreck. I'd only ever kissed someone once, and much like back then, this woman was absolutely stunning and completely out of my league.

The man was right to be suspicious.

"Excuse me?" my savior retorted, standing up off my lap and removing herself from me completely. I exhaled, trying hard not to look like I was just as shocked as they were as she tore them a new one. "This loser happens to be my fiancée. And I'd watch what insults you're throwing around— You're the ones going around some bar picking on someone you don't know like you're middle schoolers. Now grow the fuck up and back off before I take your drinks and shove them so far up your asses you'll still be able to taste them."

Truthfully I was surprised when they didn't back down. The bigger guy scoffed, his eyes raking the woman up and down with a wicked glint in them. "Y'know, maybe if you ditched him and got fucked by a real man, you wouldn't be such a bitch."

And once again, I was stunned by her ability to quip back quicker than lightening. "Maybe if you weren't such a childish prick, you'd actually get fucked in the first place. Now back. The fuck. Off..."

While I should have been more grateful that her words got them to scoff and turn away, a small, absolutely random part of me wanted to hear her yell at them some more. The longer she did it, the warmer my body got, and the second I started to put together why that was, I chugged more of the beer that was currently resting in my shaky hand.

It was even worse when she turned around to face me again, her radiance and beauty intimidating me in an entirely different way than those men. She wore a simple black dress that complimented her figure extremely well, minimal makeup and jewelry, and her hair was pinned back, showing off her neck and collarbone.

If she hadn't just helped me out, with the way she was looking at me I probably would have wondered if she was... trying to pick me up.

The thought made me all warm again.

"Y—You didn't have to do—"

She stepped forward and sat on my lap again, and I swallowed hard, the beer almost slipping from my hand entirely. "Don't worry about it. You looked uncomfortable, and those boys were absolute meatheads. But they are still here, so we should probably keep up the act, huh?"

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not. Either way, I set the beer on the table, though my hand still kept it firmly in my grip as I looked down at the ring on her finger. "I—I wouldn't want to get you in trouble... with your husband..."

"Oh! Uh, funny story," she laughed, leaning in and running her hands over my shoulders, most likely to keep up the façade. "I'm not actually married. Or engaged. I um... I wear this to deter people from trying to take me home."

I actually laughed a little, though my stomach still flipped at her touch and her proximity. "And that... actually works?"

She laughed with me, bringing her hands up to cradle my face as she tilted her head and looked me over. Her pretty, pillow-y soft lips quirked into a smile before her eyes flitted up to mine. She looked like she was entranced, like she was in a dream, and honestly I felt the same way. Because there was no way in actual Hell this was a real thing that was happening to me, right?

"Not always," she answered in a whisper, her face inching closer to mine. She smelled a little like beer, but mostly some type of fruit, probably pear. I didn't eat pears, but maybe I should start...

A gentle tug at the roots of my hair pulled me out of my thoughts, a soft sigh escaping me at the sensation. The woman laughed, brushing her nose against mine for a moment before pulling away and grabbing her beer. "So, since we're engaged, I feel like I should know a little about you. At the very least, your name?"

"O—oh," I laughed nervously, swallowing as she sipped her beer. And I tried not to let it get to me, but the way her lips wrapped gently around the bottle had my mind going a mile a minute, laser focusing on one image in particular of those perfect lips wrapped around something else. I wondered if she could hear the longing in my voice when I whispered my name. "Spencer."

With the beer still in her hand, she lowered it and rested it on my knee as she smiled. "Mmm, and what's my last name going to be?"

The thought of actually marrying this woman infiltrated my thoughts as I answered, louder this time, "Reid."

See hummed again, using the hand that was currently massaging the back of my scalp to gently tug at my hair again. "Y/N Reid... I like the sound of that."

I do, too, is what I thought, and I almost said it, but she started talking again.

"So, Spencer, what do you do?"

I would have gone into my entire spiel, but she was so pretty, and so close, I didn't want to scare her off. So, I simply stated, "I work for the FBI..."

Her eyebrows raised, and I felt her hand slide down my neck and settle on my shoulder. "Really?"

"Y—Yeah, I'm a profiler. We aid law enforcement in catching serial killers."

"So, Agent Reid, huh? That's hot..."

I should have just left it alone, because it was common knowledge that if a woman has any reason to call you hot, you just let it happen, right?

Well, like I said, when it came to women I was a complete wreck.

"A—Actually it's Doctor... I, um... I have 3 PhDs."

As soon as the words left my mouth I regretted them, but the hunger in her eyes deepened and her free hand roamed my shoulder and the front of my chest as she scooted even closer, her mouth coming up right under my jaw. "Mmm, even hotter..."

This time I didn't hold back, my voice audibly whimpering as I sighed out a simple, "Oh..."

Y/N pressed a featherlight kiss to my neck before dragging her lips to my ear again. And I'd been so hyperaware of her proximity to my face that I hadn't even noticed she'd set her beer down and took that hand to rest firmly at my hip, her palm pressing into my lower stomach. I only felt it when that hand moved over, the tips of her fingers hovering just above the buckle of my belt.

"Tell me something, Doctor," she whispered just under my earlobe. I was nothing short of putty in her hands as my brain tried to focus on what she was saying over the more prominent desire to focus on the way she pressed her whole body into mine. She was everywhere, taking up every ounce of air that found its way into my lungs, and I'd never breathed in anything sweeter. "Are you saving yourself for marriage?"

I found the question odd at first, but remembering the circumstances of our fake situation, my body suddenly flared to life at her implications. "N—No..."

Her hips shifted against my lap, and I swear I could have fainted on the spot as she hummed in my ear, "Good."

***

I certainly didn't expect for the night to end the way it did.

I mean, I knew I was going to be wet when I got home, but damn. We hadn't even made it out of the bar before my panties were soaked through at the thought of fucking my fake fiancée. Who worked for the FBI and called himself Doctor...

Not to mention he was fucking dreamy as hell with those honey doe-eyes and pouty lips... And his hands? I had taken one look at the one tightly holding his beer bottle for dear life and instantly went white-hot with desire, visions of them disappearing inside of me swimming in my head.

And then he had to fucking whimper when I called him hot.

Yeah, I definitely didn't expect the night to go how it did, but I wasn't mad about it in the slightest.

After explaining to him that I'd walked, and that my house was only a few blocks away, we decided to just hop in his car. Though, by the time we got there, I think we were both so eager to "get to know each other a little better," as I'd said before we actually left, that we didn't even make it out of the parking space.

Spencer fumbled around with his keys for so long, and he kept dropping them, so I just said fuck it and kissed him when he came up the third time. The sound of his keys hitting the ground for a fourth time excited me almost as much as his the way his hands trembled as they rested on my forearms.

"Pull the seat back?" I mumbled against his mouth, sliding my hands down the sides of his face and over his shoulders.

He let out a strained, "Uh huh," and fumbled around with that too, his urgency and nerves all rolled into one adorable spectacle that had the pit of my stomach in desirable knots. The seat sprung backwards, and I laughed lowly as I climbed over the center console and right into his lap, my dress riding up incredibly high.

The way Spencer looked up at me then, his eyes just as pouty as his lips as they practically sparkled with adoration and need, gave me this feeling I hadn't experienced in a long time— something that filled my bloodstream with fire and made me feel... wanted.

And that's not to say I hadn't slept with people since my divorce, but every time it happened there was hardly any connection besides the obvious need to get off. Here, with Spencer, it was different. And realistically I knew it was most likely the fact that a beautiful woman came to his rescue and pretended to be engaged to him just to get some morons off his back, but... In his eyes I saw this vulnerability that I'd never gotten with another partner. He was open and willing to take advantage of our situation to the fullest extent, sure, but within that was a pure longing to be close to someone after going so long without that connection.

I knew that look so well because it was exactly how I felt. We wanted to have sex with each other, that much was obvious, but less so was the fact that we could feel each others' loneliness. It was a shared bond that ran deeper than sexual desire, and in his eyes in that moment, I knew he could see it in me.

"D—Do you know... what it's like to feel alone, even... when you know you really aren't?" he asked as though he was reading my mind. His voice was soft, so curious and hinted with a little sadness that it made me want to hold him tight and rock him to sleep more than anything.

Still, I nodded. "Mhm... After my husband left I haven't... really been the same. I act like it's okay, and I... I really am better now that he's gone, but I just... I've spent most of my life with him, and now it's like I don't know what's out there beyond... loneliness."

It wasn't the most sexy conversation in the world, but Spencer reached out, his hands less shaky, and ghosted them over my bare arms. He looked up at me with those pretty eyes and let out a relieved breath before he spoke. "I kinda know what you mean... Not to that extent, but... I get it."

Seeing that he was more comfortable with me, I leaned in closer, bringing my fingers to brush the underside of his jaw. "And that's why you make the perfect fiancée."

I felt the laugh leave his lips before I kissed him, soft and steady, and reassured that I was in this for as long as he wanted me to be. Obviously we weren't actually engaged, but the connection that came with a real engagement felt pretty damn close to what we had going on.

And he conveyed that in the way he kissed me back, stronger than he'd been before and most certainly more skilled than he'd let on. His tongue expertly caressed mine with just the right amount of pressure and precision, and it made it easy for me to fall into him. Over time we grew more hungry, but for the most part our dance of mouth and tongue was so slow and intense, it felt like we really had known each other forever.

Eventually though, I did feel him grow harder underneath me, and the feeling kickstarted this more primal urge that caused me to groan into his mouth and rock my hips forward. Spencer's hands rested firmly at my lower back the whole time, though when I moved, I could feel him tense a little, like now that it was actually starting to happen, he was suddenly nervous again. So I brought my hands around my back to grab his wrists, gently sliding them down over my ass as I pressed myself into him and nipped at his bottom lip.

"Mmm, your hands are so big," I purred as I kissed my way over his jaw. "They feel so good all over me..." He relaxed a bit at my reassurance, but I wanted to give him more. So I helped him slide his hands underneath my dress, feeling him shiver under me when I assisted him in squeezing them into my skin. "You can touch me however you like," I whispered into his ear. "I'm all yours, Doctor..."

He squeezed my ass then, of his own accord, and I hummed happily before kissing my way back to his mouth, running my hands through his hair.. "Just like that, baby, whatever you want..." He swallowed my words with his tongue, taking a deep breath and inhaling me like I was his only source of air. Respectfully, I gave it all to him, happy to be of service as long as he wanted me— and in that moment, I hoped it would be forever.

Maybe that was cheesy. But he was an excellent kisser... And I was sure there'd be something equally as excellent waiting for me once I got the clearance to get my hands down to his belt.

Thankfully, that clearance came pretty soon. I would have waited as long as he wanted to, but with the way his hips jolted upwards and the needy whine that erupted from his throat at the contact it provided, I knew now was the time.

So I smiled over his lips and then kissed his jaw again, one of my hands staying threaded in his hair while the other snaked down his chest and lower, undoing each button on his shirt as I went down... "Forgive me if I'm feeding into the stereotype by asking you this, Spencer," I said, leaving small bites on his neck in between words. "But have you ever done this before?"

His hands continued kneading my ass as he let out a shaky breath. "N—No. But I've um... I've p—practiced..."

"Hmm, how so?" I wondered, sucking a big hickey into his neck. Meanwhile my hand traced along the waistband of his pants, not quite dipping underneath but teasing the skin just above the material.

"U—Um, well... I regularly t—try to edge... myself, just... I—I want to last longer, and... And I thought it would help..."

God, the images of this man lounging in bed, training himself to last longer in the event that he had sex with someone? I groaned into his neck, taking the initiative to move my hand lower and gently palm him through his pants. "Fuck, that's so hot..."

"Re—really?"

"Mhmm... You really wanna make a girl feel good, huh?"

"Of course..."

"So eager to please?" I cooed, starting to undo his belt. He gripped my ass tighter like he was holding on for dear life, like he'd some how fall out of the car if he didn't hold on to me tight enough. The way his fingers dug into my skin brought me almost the same amount of joy as the sound he made when I finally snuck my hand down the front of his pants and pulled his dick out, gently stroking it and getting a feel for him. "Obedient?"

"Y—Yes, Y/N, please, oh God..." he jumbled out, his hips bucking into my hand. I sighed into his neck, kissing him again as my hand slowly jerked him off.

"Is this how slow you go?" I asked, making sure to memorize how every ridge of him caressed my hand. "Hmm, you wanna draw it out? Feel every ounce of pleasure as you possibly can before you come?"

He didn't answer so much as he let out a loud, whiny breath that sounded very much like a broken, "A-hh."

"I'm clean... On birth control, too... So what do you say we trade this hand in for something a little more... wet..."

Spencer grabbed my underwear then, pulling at the fabric and bucking his hips again. Taking it as a good sign, I adjusted myself so that I could slide them to the side and hover above him. Meanwhile I pecked at his lips and he did the same, meeting me with urgency and anticipation.

And when the head of his dick finally came in contact with my pussy, he threw his head back and exhaled, exposing his neck and the front of his chest, which was lightly glossed over with sweat already. The only source of light in the car came from the neon bar lights and one single streetlight outside, which gave us this dark, aesthetic lighting that only made what we were doing even hotter.

I sank slowly onto him, letting out the longest sigh of my life until he bottomed out in me. "You doin' alright, Doctor?" I asked, pulling his shirt open some more to get a better view of his skin.

He sat his head up a bit and looked at me, breathlessness in his eyes. "F—Fantastic. You f—eel so good..."

I ground my hips in slow circles, nodding down at him with a wicked grin. "Feeling's mutual, babe... You stretch me out so good... It's like we're a perfect match."

The moment I started lifting myself only to sit back down, Spencer shut his eyes, his hands roaming my ass and my thighs as I rode him. It looked like he was concentrating on lasting, and I was going to tell him not to worry about it, but then he opened his eyes and started to speak.

"Will, um... Will you be m—mean to me? Please?"

I halted my movements for a moment, taking in what he just said, but then it came to me immediately. And my discovery turned me on way more than I would have liked to admit.

So I grinned and circled my hips again, leaning forward to practically crawl up the front of his body. My hands tangled in his hair as I studied his face, which was ridden with worry and maybe regret at what he'd just confessed. But I kept circling my hips all the same, clenching myself around him as I spoke against his lips.

"Ohhh, did hearing me insult those guys in the bar turn you on?" I drawled, gently pecking his lips.

"Uh huh," he breathed in response.

I smiled, rocking my hips a little faster and feeling him start to relax again— The worries he had about his desires faded into nothing as I gave into them, feeding them with an open palm and embracing them with great pleasure. "I bet you just couldn't wait for me to take you outside and fuck you after that, huh? For me to treat you like a needy little slut..."

With every word and every quick rock of my hips, Spencer started to pick up his breathing. He leaned back completely and let me take care of him, gave me every green light, every go-ahead... I never got to be like this in bed before, and the fact that it came so naturally sparked this confidence within me that was hard to quell once it got going.

"Is that what you wanted?" I asked him, picking up my pace and bouncing steadily back on his dick. "You were so desperate to get fucked, too, you couldn't even make it out of the parking lot before you gave into me... And now everyone in the bar could see us out here..."

He groaned out at that, his hands digging into the flesh of my thigh, which already burned from straddling him like this, but considering everything, a little burn never hurt anyone.

"Ohh, you like that too, huh? The thought of everyone seeing us?"

"Y—Yes... Y/N, yes... o—oh, fu..."

I took his face into my hands then, grabbing him by the chin and making him look at me. "And what about your friends, huh? What would they think if they showed up and saw their precious Doctor Reid getting fucked like the dirty little slut he is, huh?"

Even though his face was in my hands, he still managed to lean his head back with a loud groan. His hands were now sliding over to my waist, where my dress was bunched up. His nimble fingers slipped just under the fabric and explored the planes of my stomach as I continued riding him, and the feeling of it all coupled with the looks on his face and his reaction—verbal or otherwise—to my words grew the fire simmering in the pit of my stomach.

I wasn't sure how mean to him I could be anymore now, though, considering we were both so close to finishing, and the closer I got the more it became harder to focus on stringing together the perfect words.

Still, I tried the best I could, because it was his first time, and it's what he deserved.

I leaned in and kissed his neck and collarbone, simultaneously riding and grinding for extra stimulation. "You're doing so well, Doctor... Taking this pussy like a good little whore..."

Okay, so it wasn't entirely mean, but it was the best I could come up with on the spot.

Though, it seemed to have done the trick, because Spencer drove his hips up to meet mine, panting and whining out my name as his eyes fluttered open and he looked at me with the most desperate look. I almost fell apart right there.

"That's it, baby, take it," I cooed, leaning over and kissing him. One of his hands came out from under my dress to rub tight circles into my clit with an expert thumb, and it started to break me down immediately. "Ohhh, I'm almost there, honey, just like that... Show me what a good little slut you are, baby, c'mon... Just like... that... Ohhh..."

I kissed him hard as I shook and clenched around him, holding still as he drilled his hips upwards into me. His thumb kept up at my clit until I was whimpering into his mouth, and then he just held it there, a few grunts of his own rumbling in his chest before he stilled and filled me with his warmth. I kissed him through it, gently swallowing all his whines and sighs as he gradually came down from his high.

Immediately after we both settled, with his dick still sheathed inside of me and my hands rubbing gently over the planes of his chest as we slowly and softly made out, the unmistakable sound of raindrops hitting glass covered us on all sides.

I pulled away from Spencer with a small smile, resting my head on his shoulder and looking off to the side, out the window at the sea of cars slowly getting covered up by a multitude of rain droplets. "I hope that was okay," I whispered against his skin, willing myself closer by draping an arm over his shoulder and using my hand to twirl some of his hair around my finger.

"That was more than okay," he responded contently. His chin rested on the top of my head and I snuggled closer into him. "Thank you, Y/N... For... For everything."

"It was my pleasure, Doctor."

We sat in comfortable near-silence for a while then, letting the rain tapping gently over the car be the steady sound that grounded us and washed away everything we had until there was a clean slate.

That was the one bad thing I found about the rain. I loved it, yes, for all its cleansing properties, and as I came into the bar tonight, I looked forward to them— to clearing my head with alcohol and a walk home in the rain.

But as I laid there, breathing in every ounce of Spencer Reid, I watched the rain roll down the windows and actually dreaded the moment it would stop.

"I wish it would rain forever," I sighed wistfully, playing with one of the buttons on Spencer's shirt.

He drew patterns into my leg all the same. "How come?"

"Because... I have to walk home. And the longer it rains, the longer I can stay here with you..."

He chuckled. "That's a nice sentiment, but you know I can drive you home, right?"

"Yeah, but... I really don't want this moment to end."

He was silent then, and for a while I thought maybe he was just going to leave it be. But then his soft voice broke through the rain and cut into me like a piece of glass. "You know you're gonna be okay, right?"

I broke away and looked up at him. "How do you mean?"

He sighed, thinking before continuing. "I mean... I'm guessing it's been rough since your husband left, and... being here with me has given you some companionship and comfort, but... Even after we part ways, you're going to be alright... It's still going to feel lonely, sure, but if there's anything I know for sure after tonight, it's that you're going to get through it just fine."

My heart swelled, though it still broke all the same. "How do you know?"

Spencer smiled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the side of my face. "Because you're my fiancée and I know you better than anyone."

As I laughed at the joke, he looked back at me with sparkles in his eyes. And then minutes later, I was haphazardly cleaning myself up in his passenger seat with a wet-nap that I'd kept tucked away in my wallet while he fumbled around for his keys.

Even as I stood on my porch that night, under the rain as I watched him drive away with the lingering buzz of our final goodbye kiss on my lips, I wondered if I'd ever see him again.

And I wondered if he would ever notice or do anything about the sparkly diamond ring I left behind, sitting beside him in my place— a reminder of our time together, the comfort he provided me with, and the clean slate that always inevitably came with the rain.

***

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thetravelerwrites · 4 years ago

Text

Errol (Naga) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Cheating, Infidelity, Break-ups, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Secretly In Love, Angst, Sex, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Dom/Sub, Ovipositor, Oviposition, Pregnancy, Babies, Eggs, Egg Laying Words: 7887

A commission for @anjhope1! After catching her fiance cheating, the reader breaks up with him and goes home miserable. The ex-fiance's brother, Errol, arrives on his brother's order to get his things from her apartment, but Errol is more interested in taking care of the reader and making sure she's okay. It leads to some confusing feelings and a confession. Please reblog leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

You’d had your suspicions for a while, but it wasn’t until you got the message on social media from a girl he’d dated and dumped who had photographic proof of it that you finally had to face the truth.

Your fiance was cheating on you.

Eric was a naga and had been with you for more than five years. He had asked you to marry him, ring and all, on New Years Eve with his family. He had made a big show of it, too. And now, you were going to have to confront him about being a cheating bastard.

The woman who had been dumped told you that he was now dating her friend, and she had gotten the room number where they were supposed to meet. You got to the hotel with your heart in your throat and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” That was definitely Eric’s voice. He had told you that his friend needed help moving and that he’d be staying over to help him. What a good friend he was.

You deepened your voice in an effort to mask it. “Room service.”

“Oh, good, I was wondering if you were ever going to come,” Eric said, and the door swung open. As soon as he saw you, the blood drained out of his already pale face.

“No, wait--”

“Hey, babe, did they bring the right wine this time?” A female voice said from inside.

You took off your ring and threw it in his face and called inside the room, “You can have the bastard.” And walked away.

“Wait, please, this isn’t what you think,” Eric said, slithering quickly down the hall to catch you. He grabbed your arm and you wrenched it violently out of his grasp.

“Babe, who’s this?” The woman said. She was human and pretty, you guessed.

“I’m his fiance,” You retorted. “Oh, sorry, ex-fiance. Don’t worry, he’s all yours.”

“What the fuck, Eric?!” She shouted at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Rachel, it’s not…” He stuttered. “It isn’t…”

Rachel slapped him and pushed past you toward the elevator, not looking back.

“Babe--” He started, turning back toward you.

“Don’t you dare call me ‘babe,’ you son of a bitch. Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you waste five fucking years of my life?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“I don’t give a shit what you meant to do! I want an explanation. Was the sex bad? Do you not love me anymore? Are you just the type of person who has to have a side-chick? What? What about this is good for you? What about all this made destroying our relationship worth it?”

He groaned and scratched his head with both hands. “I… It… I can be anything I want to be with those girls, you know? If I say I’m rich, then I’m rich. If I say I’m successful, then I’m successful, and they don’t know better. They don’t know I have a shitty job that I hate. They don’t know that my girlfriend makes twice as much money as me, that she’s popular with people and everyone likes her better than me, even my own fucking family. They don’t know what a fucking loser I am.”

“And that’s my fucking fault?!” You screamed at him. “You know what you could have done instead of ruining a five year relationship? Gotten fucking therapy! Or, better yet, talked to me about it! I have been nothing but supportive of you. I have encouraged you to leave your job and find a better one. I told you I would support you until you found something that made you happy. You could have gone back to school or done and apprenticeship or vocational work, whatever, and I’d have been there! You could do whatever you wanted, and I would have helped you, and you know that!”

“Right, because you so fucking perfect, huh?” He yelled back. “It’s not enough that you rub your perfect job in my face every day and go around spending whatever you want because you don’t have to worry about money, but you also have to be perfectly supportive and perfectly giving and perfectly loving, too, right? How am I supposed to feel good about myself when you’re always better than me at everything?”

“So, it’s my fault you’re cheating on me because I’m a good girlfriend? Is that what you’re saying to me? I’m too fucking nice, so you had to put your dick in random women to feel better about yourself?” You raised your hands as if surrendering and shook your head in disbelief. “You know what? Fucking forget me. Forget our relationship, forget getting married, forget you ever knew me, forget my fucking face, don’t ever come to my house, don’t ever message me again, delete my number from your phone. As far as you’re concerned, I don’t exist to you, because you sure as shit don’t exist to me anymore.” You turned to leave.

“What about my stuff?” He protested.

“Send your brother to come get your shit,” You said without turning. “If you set foot on my property, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. I’m not fucking around. I’m so fucking glad you never moved in when I offered. ”

“So that’s it?” He said as you waited for the elevator to come back up. “You’re not even willing to work this out? It’s just over?”

“Get fucked, Eric,” You said, stepping into the elevator. “Oh wait, you already did. Do yourself a favor and sell that ring to pay for a therapist.” And the door closed on him.

As soon as the elevator started to move, you hit the floor and sobbed. Why? Why was he like this? You thought everything was perfect up until a few months ago, and you hadn’t know he felt like this. He always seemed happy. How were you supposed to know otherwise if he never said anything?

How you got back home, you didn’t know, because you didn’t remember it. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the freezer and didn’t even bother with a glass. For about an hour, you just sat there disheveled on your couch, crying and drinking.

Sometime later, there was a sheepish knock on your door. You hoped to God that it wasn’t Eric, but when you opened the door, Errol was there. Errol, Eric, and their sister Enya, were all from the same clutch of eggs, so he looked a lot like his brother in that they all had white, black, gold scales, golden eyes, cream colored skin, and blond hair. Errol was a bit larger that Eric, and where Eric wore his hair short, Errol kept his long and braided back. You always thought that it made him look elegant, despite his size. He was still wearing his work clothes, as if he’d just come from his construction job.

You and Errol hadn’t spent much time together alone, since Eric was a little jealous of other men. He’d always been very nice to you, though, and liked you just as well as the rest of his family. He’d even given you advice a few times in the past when you and Eric were fighting.

“Can I come in?” He asked, wincing.

“Did you know?” You asked him, your throat raw and hoarse from crying.

“No, I didn’t know,” He said solemnly.

“Don’t bullshit me, Errol,” You replied harshly.

“I swear I didn’t know. I would have told you, I promise. My brother can be an asshole, but I never thought he would do something like this.” Errol grimaced. “Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look okay?” You retorted, your voice shaking as the tears returned. “If you’ve come to get his stuff, just get it and leave.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about his stuff, I’m here for you,” Errol said. He held up a couple of plastic bags. “I brought take out and ice cream.”

“I’m not hungry,” You said vaguely, but you moved aside to let him in.

“I got alcohol, too,” He said as he slithered inside. “I could make you a Bailey’s float.”

You sighed and sniffled. “Okay.”

You sat at your table as he bustled around making the drink, laying your tear-flushed face on the cool surface of the wood.

“What did I do wrong?” You asked weepily with your cheek pressed against the table.

“Nothing,” Errol said as he lay the glass in front of you, moving a chair so that he could coil up next to the table. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did he do it?” You asked, sitting up and taking a watery bite of the ice cream. “Why wasn’t I enough? He said ‘girls,’ which means there’s probably more than the two I know about. How long has he been doing this? Our whole relationship?”

“When he called me to come over here and get his stuff for him, I asked. I’m not sure if he was telling me the truth, but he said it’s only been the last year.” Errol snorted derisively. “Only.”

“How many girls?” You asked.

He shook his head. “He wouldn’t tell me. He kept trying to get me to side with him, but…” Errol rolled his eyes. “I’m not buying anything he says right now.”

“Did he do this to his other girlfriends?”

“Well, you were his first serious girlfriend,” Errol said. “Before you, he only dated casually, so it was never a problem. When he said he really loved you, I thought he meant it.”

“Yeah.” Your lip quivered and you stabbed the spoon into your float. “Me too.”

Errol reached out and pulled you into a tight hug, which you sank into and let loose again, soaking his shirt in tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Errol whispered into your hair.

At some point, Errol put you to bed. You were exhausted and drunk and just wanted to sleep, so he lay you down and left you to it.

When the morning came, you felt like your head had been run over with a truck. You decided to get some coffee going before taking a shower, but to your surprise, Errol was still there. He was in the kitchen on the phone, his hair out of it’s usual braid and tumbling down his shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Errol said. You immediately realized he was talking to his brother. “No, I’m not picking up your shit. I don’t care if she burns it all.” He was silent for a moment, and you could hear Eric speaking. “No… No, you’re full of shit. Do you know what a good thing you had? Do you have any idea what I would give to have what you just shit on? …fuck no, I’m not going to talk her into taking you back, are you insane?! Get over yourself… No… No, it’s not happening, you can go fuck yourself right now… Look, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now.”

Errol hung up and turned, startled to realize you were standing there. “Oh, hey,” He said. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” You replied honestly. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah, you were in bad shape last night and I didn’t want to leave you alone. I slept on the couch, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” You said. “I was just going to make coffee.”

“Oh, I already made some,” He said, going to the coffee pot and pouring you a mugful. “I figured you could use it. I’ve got breakfast coming too, something greasy to absorb all that alcohol.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” You said, sipping the coffee. It was really good, but not your normal brand, though it tasted very familiar. Actually, now that you thought about it, you always drank the gross coffee Eric liked. This was a nice change. “I’m going to take a shower and wash last night off of me. Are you okay here?”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time,” He said, turning to pull down plates and prepare for breakfast.

You were about to turn to the bathroom but stopped. “Errol.”

He looked back up at you. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for… thanks.”

He smiled at you. “It’s no problem at all.”

You took your shower with your head pressed against the tile. Why couldn’t you just forget? Why couldn’t you put all of it out of your mind and stop thinking about it? What would it take to make the pain stop?

The water was cold by the time you got out, and when you went back into the kitchen, the food had arrived and Errol had everything set out on the table. He looked up anxiously when you came in.

“You okay?” He said, concerned. “You were in there for a worryingly long time. I was thinking about going in there if you hadn’t come out in five minutes.”

“I’m fine. Well, not fine, but you know.”

“Yeah,” He said sympathetically. “Try to eat. All you had last night were two bites of ice cream and a lot of alcohol.”

You picked up your fork and speared a sausage. “I must look horrible.”

“Nope, not possible,” He said, tucking into his own plate of food. “A person can look tired and cute at the same time, you know.”

You snorted, prodding your puffy face gently. “You’re too nice. Maybe I should have dated you instead.”

He laughed. “You know, it’s actually kinda funny, I was going to ask you out back in college before you started dating Eric.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, he kind of sniped you, if I’m being honest.”

“I never knew that,” You said. “Did he know you wanted to ask me out?”

“Oh, yeah, I told him,” He said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “I told him there was a girl at my college who always went to this one coffee shop near campus, and I told him I was going buy you your favorite coffee and cookies as an icebreaker.”

Your head rocked back. “That’s exactly what he did when he asked me out.”

Errol tsked sardonically. “Yeah. I know.”

You scoffed. “Wow, what an absolute asshole.”

Errol shrugged and smiled. “Ancient history now. Do you want some more coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” You said as he filled your cup. “This is really good, what is it?”

“Orange and almond mocha.”

You cocked your head. “Wait… isn’t that the blend I drank at the coffee shop? It used to be my favorite.”

“I know,” He said. “I ordered some. I thought it might be a nice pick-me-up. The shit that Eric drinks is revolting.”

“That’s definitely true,” You said, looking at Errol closely. “You remembered what my favorite coffee blend was from five years ago?”

Errol looked up at you. His face seemed carefully blank.

“Yeah, but I mean, it’s no big deal.” He wiped his mouth and sat back. “I should get going, I have work in a few hours. Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to take some personal days.”

Errol nodded.”That’s a good idea. I’ll call later to check on you, okay? If you need anything, just text me.”

“Okay,” You said, feeling a little off-balance.

Errol smiled and let himself out, and you were left standing there, staring after him as an overwhelming sense of realization hit you like a freight train.

…did I date the wrong brother all this time?

Later in the day, Eric called. You almost weren’t going to pick up, but you decided to see what he had to say for himself now that the heat of the moment had passed.

“What do you want?” You said brusquely.

“Why did my brother spend the night at your house last night?” Eric said immediately.

“...excuse me?” You replied, incredulous.

“You heard me. What the fuck was he doing there?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“What do you mean, it’s not my business? He’s my brother and you’re my fiance!”

“Ex-fiance,” You corrected him. “First of all, you are the one who told him to come over in the first place. Secondly, I was not obviously doing well last night and he stayed to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or die in my sleep of alcohol poisoning. And third, and I cannot stress this enough, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Don’t bullshit me, you know he’s in love with you.”

Your head snapped back in agitation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, you really don’t know? Ms. Perfect doesn’t know that my asshole brother has had a crush on you for years?”

“You’re full of shit, Eric,” You retorted. “Don’t drag Errol into this.”

“Did you just decide to fuck my brother to get back at me, is that it?”

“Fuck you, Eric!” You hung up the phone and hit the floor, a wave of anguish washing you again. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he have to make everything worse?

The phone rang again, and it was Eric. You decided to block him and be done with it. You got a notification from Facebook, and then Twitter, and then Instagram, all from Eric. Every new notification made your anxiety rise higher and higher until you were balled up on the floor, sobbing again. In desperation, she dialed Errol’s number.

“Hello?”

“Please help,” She begged, weeping. “He won’t leave me alone. He keeps messaging me and calling me. I can’t… I can’t do it…”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” Errol said. He sounded angry.

“Can you come over? Please?”

“Of course, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. I’m going to turn off my phone.”

“That’s a good idea,” He said. “If I need to, I can message you on your gaming console.”

“Okay,” You said. “Bye.”

He hung up with you and you turned your phone off, sitting on the floor of your kitchen in the blissful silence, unable to get up.

Was that true? Could it be possible that Errol had been in love with you the whole time you’d been dating Eric? He said he’d wanted to ask you out. He remembered tiny details, like what your favorite coffee had been. He made you your favorite dessert when you were miserable without even having to ask what it was. He stayed overnight to make sure you didn’t get hurt or hurt yourself. He bought breakfast and defended you. He didn’t have to do any of that. He was just your fiance’s brother. Ex-fiance.

He arrived shortly after you called him. As soon as he entered the house, before he had a chance to say anything, you reached up, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. For a second or two, there was no reaction, but then he leaned into the kiss, deepening it, savoring it, before abruptly putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you back, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“...why did you do that?” He asked you, his face grim.

“Eric told me,” You said. “He said you’ve been in love with me the entire time I was dating him. Is that true?”

Errol looked down and away. “Look--”

“You told Eric on the phone that you’d have given anything to have what he had. You meant me, right?”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Errol, look at me!” You shouted.

It seemed to take a lot of will, but Errol’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours. They were pleading with you.

“Do you love me?”

His face scrunched as if he were in pain and he swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t…

“Don’t…lie to me,” You said in a tense whisper, tears spilling from your eyes. “Do you?”

Tears began to gather in his own eyes. His response was barely audible.

“…yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since I first saw you in the coffee shop.”

You tried to press forward to kiss him again, but he held you firm, sniffing. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“But I don’t want to be used to get revenge on my brother,” He whispered back, his voice strangled and uneven. “It’s not good for you and it’s not fair to me. You know that.”

Your face crumpled. He was right.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, unable to look at him anymore. “I just don’t want to think about him anymore. I don’t want him in my head.”

Finally, Errol pulled you into a hug.

“I know,” He said. His body was tense, as if he were restraining himself. “We can revisit this later. Much later.”

“When?” You asked piteously.

“Not now. Not soon. You need time to heal and I… need to think.”

“I’m sorry, Errol,” You cried into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never saw it.”

He laughed slightly. “It’s not your fault. I got really good at hiding it. And Eric always kept you at arms length from me. I think he was afraid I’d steal you away or something.”

He let you go and you stepped away, looking at the ground in shame.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was using you,” You said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He put his hand under his chin and made you look up at him, his thumb stroking your cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’m relieved the secret is out now. Tiptoeing around you and Eric was exhausting. The engagement was my worst nightmare, because it meant I’d have to just suffer in silence forever.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s over for both our sakes, then,” You said, attempting to smile.

He smiled too, but it was very soft. Gentle. “I don’t… think it’s a good idea for us to hang out together much from now on, at least for a while,” He said, letting go. “But… we can text. We can call. If you need anything, I’m always here for you. That’s always been true.”

You nodded. “I know.” You sighed and took another step back. “I’m going to miss you.”

His smile widened sadly. “I’m not far, but… I know what you mean.”

With the both of you in tears, he turned, opened the door, and was gone. Thirty seconds after he left, however, you got a text.

>Are you okay?

You smiled through your tears, feeling glad and grateful that he was still communicating with you. >No. But I think I will be.

>Good.

>Are you okay? You asked in return.

>Honestly, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. This was a lot at once.

>Yeah, no kidding. I think I may see a therapist to help me out.

>That’s a really good idea. Maybe I should too.

>I think everyone should at least once.

>Yeah. Do you need anything?

>No, I’m okay. Thank you for everything, Errol.

>It’s my pleasure.

Some time passed. You and Errol talked and texted every single day. Neither of you brought up dating each other and carefully avoided affectionate language. He wanted you to heal and you wanted to give him a fair chance without the cloud of his brother hanging over you.

Talking to him was effortless, like talking to yourself. You each had your own tastes and dislikes, but you both loved a lot of the same things and had similar desires. You both loved your jobs, enjoyed the same music, gushed over books you’d read, and liked playing board games. One of your favorite things to do was watch movies remotely over Zoom. It was almost like being on a date, even if you couldn’t be together.

As hard as you tried not to, you compared everything Errol did to Eric. Even still, it was obvious that Errol had always been better suited to you than Eric ever was. It was abundantly clear that you had indeed been dating the wrong brother the entire time.

On what was supposed to be your anniversary with Eric, Errol sent you a link to play a horror game with him. Errol hated anything horror, so instead of spending the day crying and drinking and cursing Eric for being alive, you got to laugh the whole day at how loud Errol screamed when he was startled. It ended up being a wonderful day.

You did see a therapist, as did Errol, and the two of you would talk about your sessions with each other, sharing the advice the counselors had given you. He also sent you gifts through delivery, like the coffee you loved and your favorite treats. Whenever you’d had a bad day or had to deal with Eric due to post-breakup business, a treat would arrive the next day, and it always put a smile on your face.

You were worried that all the time apart might change how Errol felt, but he never wavered. You woke up every day to a text saying good morning, and went to bed after talking to him for at least an hour about your day. After a month, you realized that a day or two would go by when you wouldn’t think of Eric at all. You hadn’t thought that would be possible when you first broke up with Eric, and he did still haunt your thoughts most of the time, but the respite from the emotional distress of thinking of him, even for a short time, was wonderful.

Three months after the breakup and his confession, you, Errol, and your therapists all decided that you were ready to date again. That same day, Errol showed up on your doorstep with flowers. The sight of him was like breathing fresh air after being underwater.

“Hi,” He said, smiling brightly.

“Hi,” You replied, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. He reciprocated without hesitation.

“So…” He said, not letting go. “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”

“Yes,” You said, cuddling him closer.

He pulled back and kissed you for a very long time, tasting your lips and teasing his tongue just inside your mouth. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and just looked at your face, touching your cheeks with his fingertips. Eventually he stepped back.

“Let’s go.”

Dating him was amazing. He knew everything there was to know about you, so he took you to places you loved, to all your favorite restaurants, to concerts he knew you’d enjoy. It was like you’d been dating for years already, even though it was just a few weeks. You made out like teenagers, hot and heavy, but he was careful about being intimate too quickly, though, still fearful about being a rebound. You respected that.

You were already talking about the future, though. You both wanted to get married eventually and to be parents before you turned thirty. Before breaking up, you had been talking about having kids with Eric, which was something he had expressed interest in during the start of your relationship, but recently he had been making excuses, like he didn’t have enough in savings or he didn’t feel ready. You guessed you knew why now.

You were worried that his family would be angry with you for ending your relationship with Eric and dating Errol, but they seemed completely understanding. It was likely they were also aware that Errol had been in love with you forever, and the fact that Eric cheated on you wasn’t something they were proud of. You were still warmly invited to all the family gatherings with Errol, and while having Eric there was a little awkward, his seething anger at seeing you happy with Errol was the best revenge you could have asked for.

“They let everyone in the office have the day off. Do you want to hang out today?” You asked Errol one night after about a month and a half of dating.

“Ordinarily I’d love to, but I’m feeling kinda weird today. Squishy. I think I’m going to have my period soon.”

He wasn’t being hyperbolic; nagas with male sex organs both created the eggs and fertilized them, but they didn’t have a womb or cavity in their bodies where the eggs could incubate, which is why they needed people with uteruses to propagate the species. It took a month for the eggs to develop inside them, but after that, they could implant them into another person’s body at any time they chose. However, after a year, the eggs died naturally and were expelled from their bodies, therefore, male nagas experienced periods once a year. Eric usually went to a specialized facility where the eggs would be humanely disposed of.

“Are you sure? Isn’t it rather soon for that.”

“I went into heat last week. The eggs usually die quickly after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” You said. “Why did you go into heat? That typically only happens when nagas in a sexual relationship with someone, right?”

“That, and if you’re experiencing extreme sexual needs that aren’t being met.”

“Oh. Ohhh…” You hissed in a breath. “Is it because of me?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” He reassured you. “It’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”

You were silent for a moment of deep contemplation. He seemed to sense you were thinking about something.

“What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Do you think the eggs are still viable?”

It was his turn to be silent. “Um… maybe. Probably. I think it’ll be another week before I need to go in to evacuate them. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking…” You said slowly. “We both said we wanted kids. And I know we’re just starting out, and this is super sudden, and it probably doesn’t even make sense to do this now, and we haven’t even had sex yet, but… oh, god, I’m rambling…” You sighed heavily. “If you’d like, we can wait until next year when we’ve been together for longer, but… it just seems like this is a good opportunity. It… feels right, you know what I mean? If that’s what you want.”

He took another moment of silence to think really hard about what you were saying. “Are you sure about this, honey?” He asked you finally.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” You said resolutely. “I love you, and I’m in a good place, both emotionally and financially. I’m ready to be a mom. I have been for years.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Is this something you want? I mean… I totally understand if it isn’t. If you want to wait, that’s fine with me. I just… I want to do this.”

His voice turned sultry. “You really want my eggs?”

You grinned and bit your lip. You’d learned through hints in conversations you had with him that he had a little bit of a breeding and pregnancy kink.

“Yeah. But we should act fast if we want them to take.”

“I’ll be right over,” He said, and the phone clicked.

You immediately went into the bathroom to get ready, feeling nervous. There was a weight of expectation on you, not just because you were talking about getting pregnant, but also because of how long Errol had wanted to be with you. You were scared that you wouldn’t live up to his expectation.

He arrived shortly after, looking excited and nervous. You pulled him into your arms and kissed him. He was shaking.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He said, touching your face reverently. “I’ve just… I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”

You smiled softly at him. “Come on.” You took him by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. He took a deep, shaky breath and followed.

Once in the room, he pulled you in and kissed you again, deeper this time, more probing, his body pressed flush against yours.

“I’m not sure how to… begin…” He said. “I don’t know what you like and don’t like yet.”

“We can learn as we go,” You said. “We don’t have to rush.”

“Well, what do you like? Do you have any kinks I should know about?”

You laughed. “I have a few, I guess.”

“Tell me about one,” He said.

Instead of telling, you knelt down and sat on your knees with your butt resting on your feet, perched forward on your hands, and looked up at him through your lashes.

“What would you like me to do for you?” You asked, biting your lip.

His eyebrows rose and a startled smile spread across his face. “Oh,” He said. Slowly, he took off his long shirt, exposing his torso and the slit on his lower abdomen, usually closed and imperceptible from his scales, but now swollen and puckered slightly. He ran his fingers through your hair where you were crouched on the floor and came close, so that his slit was near your face.

“Touch it for me, sweetie,” He said.

Gently, you circled one finger around the slit, feeling it pulse under your touch. He exhaled sharply and his head fell back, his braid swinging. With your forefinger and middle finger, you stroked it up and down, watching it open slowly. You leaned forward and kissed it, and he spasmed, groaning.

Gradually, two dicks emerged from his slit, a long, thin one with a spear-like head, and a shorter, thick one with a bulbous head. You knew each had a different purpose. Normally, the thin one would be retracted so that nagas could just enjoy sex, but the thin one was an ovipositor. It’s what implanted the eggs. You knew not to touch it, since it secreted a numbing agent that made implanting the eggs easier.

“Now?” You asked.

“Not yet,” He said. “You’re not ready yet. Stand up.”

You obeyed, and he began to undress you. You started to help, but he said, “No, no, let me do it.”

You put your arms back down and let him peel your clothes off. And then he just looked at you.

“Stand still,” He said. “Stay quiet.”

You nodded, obeying.

“Good girl,” He whispered. “That’s my good girl.”

He started with your shoulders, letting his fingers run over your skin, down your arms, up your sides, caressing your breasts, down your belly, and reached one hand between your legs. You gasped.

“Shh,” He said. “Stay silent.”

It was a hard order to follow, as he touched your pearl and massaged it slowly, running a finger inside your slit as he did. Your breathing was uneven and you had to bite a finger, but you managed to be quiet.

“You can make all the noise you want soon,” He promised seductively. “I just want to test how good you can be for me.”

You nodded again, your body shivering at his touch.

He brought his face very close to yours, so that your lips were mere millimeters apart, but stopped short of actually kissing you. You could feel his cool breath on your neck and chest, and it made your heart race.

“You’re getting there,” He said, pushing a finger inside your entrance. You inhaled, but bit down on your cheek to stay silent.

“Good girl,” He said, pulling his finger out. "Lay face down on the bed and lift your ass up. Spread your legs open.”

You nodded again and followed his orders, doing exactly what he asked of you. He slithered up behind you and went back to touching between your legs with one hand, the other sliding up and down your spine. You felt him sink down and kiss your thighs.

“You can moan for me, darling,” He said.

You were happy to obey, and whimpered against your pillow as he licked a long stripe from behind, kneading your buttocks as he did. He moaned as he sucked on you, your legs shaking. He pressed his thumb into you as he sucked, and you thought you were going to cum. He stopped just before that happened, leaving you feeling desperate.

“Good,” He said. “You’re perfect.” He crawled over you from the back so that his face was next to yours and he kissed you. “Are you still sure about this? We can just have sex, I don’t have to breed you.”

“You want to, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry about what I want right now, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes,” You simpered. “I want it. Give them to me. Please. I want them.”

He bit his lip, looked at you like you were something he wanted to eat, and grinned. “Good girl.” He went out of view then, and you felt his hands on your hips.

“Be still,” He said. “Let me in.”

You nodded, and felt the slim tube enter your body. The anesthetic began working immediately, so you only had a vague sensation of it pushing all the way in, penetrating your womb, and fixing itself there.

“Are you hurting, love?” He asked as he lay over you, putting his arm under your head so that you could lay on it and resting his body on top of you. Your hips were still in the air and your stomach wasn’t touching the bed.

“No, I’m okay,” You replied.

“Good,” He said, sounding a bit strained, his body tensing. His stuttering breath blew through your hair. “It’s starting.”

He grunted, but you couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or pain. His breathing was sharp and punctuated as the egg moved down through the ovipositor and into you. You could feel a small swell in your stomach, but it wasn’t painful. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder and relaxed and shuddered, gasping.

“Did it hurt?” You asked.

“Not exactly,” He replied a little breathlessly. “It feels good, but it’s also a bit of work to push it out. Sorry this isn’t as sexy as you might have hoped.”

“Who said it wasn’t?” You replied, nuzzling him. “It’s like a special kind of foreplay. Besides, I’m really enjoying all the sounds that are coming out of you.”

“I can feel that,” He said, laughing. “You keep squeezing me.” He tensed again and started grunting, hugging you tightly.

“You’re doing great,” You told him.

“This is… harder than I thought it would be,” He said stiltedly. You could feel the sweat from his brow dripping on your skin.

“You can do it,” You said, kissing his arm as it gripped you and biting his thumb. “How many do you think there are?”

“I think three,” He said. He exhaled forcefully, and you felt another swell slip into you as he panted.

“One more, honey,” You said. “Deep breaths.”

He snickered, and then groaned. “Okay…” He said. He gripped you hard as the last one came and passed through. You were beginning to feel a full sensation in your belly and felt glad this was the last one.

Once it was out, the ovipositor retracted and he flopped onto the bed, gasping like a fish.

“Whoa,” He said. “Laying them in a person is way different than disposing of them.”

“How so?” You asked, moving to lie on your side so that you could touch him. He was clammy and cold.

“That felt great,” He said, looking over at you and smiling. “Like, it hurt a bit, but it felt like a small orgasm every time.”

“Probably a biological incentive to procreate,” You said, kissing his chest and neck.

He snorted. “Probably.” He looked at you with his eyes half lidded. “It’s going to be a few minutes until you get the feeling back down there. Why don’t you spend some time and play with me?”

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“Do you want me to punish you?” He asked.

“Maybe I’ll like it,” You said with a smirk.

He took you by the chin and made you look down at the second, larger cock, which was still erect and bobbing. “Touch me.”

You went down and sat astride his tail so that he could watch you take his cock in your hand, and begin to slowly pump it up and down.

“Hmm, that’s good,” He said with a satisfied sigh. “Let me know when your feeling comes back. We don’t want to waste time.”

“I will,” You said, stroking him. Your stomach felt tight, so you rubbed it as you touched him, drawing his eye. He watched you hungrily.

“I can’t believe you did that,” He said, smiling at you.

“We’re only half-way there,” You told him. “Don’t get too excited.”

He bucked his tail and nearly knocked you over onto the bed, making you shriek and laugh.

After a few minutes of teasing and touching and good-natured laughter, the feeling began to return. You started rocking on his tail to be sure, and realized that you were extremely sensitive.

“It’s back?” He asked

You nodded, pleasuring yourself against his body.

“Good. Lay down.”

You obeyed, and he moved to lay on top of you, his tail between your legs and his slit lining up with yours, kissing you deeply and rolling your nipples in his fingers. He pushed himself inside you as he kissed you, careful not to go too deep, as the ovipositor had made you a little sore. You rolled your body against his in time with his thrusts. You were so sensitive that you could already feel the crest of ecstasy beginning to wash over you.

“I love you so much,” He whispered against your skin. “I’m so happy.”

“I love you,” You replied, your hands in his hair as he moved inside you with purpose, precision. “I’m close. I’m so close.”

He stopped immediately, and you groaned shrilly, the sensation of denial sending a shiver up your back.

“Not yet,” He said, biting your lower lip. “Not until I say. Be a good girl.”

You nodded, panting and trembling, but your body was betraying you, writhing desperately against him, trying to regain the friction.

“Be still,” He said. “I’m not going to move again until you be still.”

You squealed in need, but you did your best to make your body stop clutching at him. It took a minute, but you managed to settle down.

“Good,” He said, slowly moving inside you again. “Good girl.”

“Cum inside me,” You begged. “Please.”

“I will,” He said, kissing you. “When I want to. Be patient and I’ll reward you.”

Your body was wound so tightly that you thought you were going to explode, practically vibrating underneath him. The sight of it made him grin.

“You’re so beautiful,” He said, licking your earlobe, still keeping the maddeningly slow pace. “Do you want it that bad?”

“Yes!” You groaned. “Yes, please. Errol, please.”

He thrust sharply, but not hard, and you nearly came undone. You cried out, about to snap like a string.

“Are you always going to be a good girl for me?” He whispered sinfully.

“Yes!”

“Do you promise me?”

“Yes!”

“Say it. Say ‘I promise.’”

“I promise, I promise, please!”

His thrusts became targeted again. “Beg me some more.”

“Errol, please! Please let me cum, please!” You cried. Every muscle, every nerve in your body was screaming for release.

“You can cum when I tell you to,” He said, though his movements were extremely efficient now. He was very good at drawing this out.

“I can’t take it, please!” You begged.

“One more time, say you love me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

From there, he wasted no time, slamming himself into you with speed. In no time at all, you were a screaming, shaking mess underneath him, thanking him over and over. The tension in his body and the sudden shout and moaning from him told you that he had reached his peak too.

“Not yet,” He gasped, rearing up. “I’m not done yet.”

He had leaned up so that he could look down at you and put his hand on your stomach, feeling the new hardness there. He kept going, pistoning against your body, snapping his hips against you, and rode the wave for a second time, all focus and concentration.

The both of you came one final time before he collapsed on the bed beside you, sucking in air as hard as you were. For a few minutes, all you could do was breathe.

After some time, he left the bed and went into the bathroom, and you heard the water in the tub running. You were barely conscious when he came back and lifted you out of the bed, taking you into the bathroom, and lay you down in the warm water of the bath. You were so tired and boneless that you could hardly raise your head, so he carefully, lovingly washed your body, paying special attention to your belly.

“Are you alive?” He asked after some time of sitting next to the tub, watching you drift in and out.

“I think so,” You replied, opening your eyes to smile sleepily at him. “Do you think they took?”

“We won’t know for a while. You should take it easy until then.” He smoothed the hair away from your face and stroked your cheek. “You’re going to have my babies,” He said, laughing a little.

“I hope so,” You said, taking his hand and kissing the palm.

“Eric is going to be pissed,” Errol said, snickering.

You snorted. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about him once today. This isn’t about him.”

Errol kissed you. “You’re right. It isn’t. It’s about us.” He lay his hand on your stomach and smiled gently. “All of us.”

Only one of the eggs took, but that was okay. Errol’s parents were overjoyed to learn they’d be getting a grandchild. Both you and Errol decided Eric could learn it on Facebook, like all the other strangers and acquaintances in your lives.

You took maternity leave so that you could pass your gestational time in relative peace. Errol fussed over you, making sure you ate properly and went with you to all your appointments. You made the decision to lay the egg at home instead of the hospital, and Errol’s sister acted as the midwife. It was the toughest work you’d ever done, and Errol was the best cheerleader you could have asked for.

Errol took paternity leave, like you had done, since he couldn’t leave the egg, anyway. He incubated the egg for the rest of the gestation period, curled up around it day and night. Errol’s son, Ewan, was born six months after being conceived, and within another year, you and Errol were married.

You often wondered if things had been different, if you had dated Errol from the beginning instead of Eric, if you’d be as overjoyed as you were at the moment. But then you figured that wondering about what ifs was a waste of time. You had a happy family to look after now, after all, and another clutch on the way. There was no time to worry about the past. The future was right in front of you.

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teasty · 4 years ago

Text

kiss yourself (03) || h.js

● pairing: han jisung x (female) reader

● genre: angst, smut, (kinda) fluff || fwb to lovers au || college!au || non!idol au

● words: 10.4k

→ summary: It all started when you and your best friend for life, Han Jisung, got a little bit too tipsy at a party and ended up waking up naked in the same bed. After that unfortunate night, you and Jisung confirmed there be a distinguished “friends with benefits” relationship between the two of you, with a few rules.

Number One: No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.

Number Two: The minute one of the two of you starts a serious relationship with someone, the benefits are cut off immediately.

Number Three: Have to respect the other’s wishes, if one doesn’t want to do it, then there’s no argument.

Number Four: No falling in love.

But, when Jisung starts crushing over your classmate, you start to break the rules. One by one.

a/n: a lot happens in this chapter,, it's pretty fast paced but it is what it is ~

Chapter One | Chapter Two | CHAPTER THREE

“I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

You refused to cry, no matter how bad you wanted to.

You didn’t actually head back to the dorm, deciding you weren’t tired enough to fall asleep fast enough and that you simply wanted to have the comfort of being alone for the time being. You’re so fed up, so irritated and stressed, not even Jisung fucking you over and over again until you’re too weak to even speak could fix it. Neither did you feel like dealing with Jeongja, so you headed straight for the 24/7 cafe a few blocks away from the school. You didn’t go there often, but you went there a few times with Jisung in the mornings. You weren’t as familiar with the place like he was, but you knew for a fact that it was open all day, every week day.

There was only one other person in the cafe. A young, tired looking woman who typed vigorously on her laptop, which was plugged into the wall along with her phone, which she listened to whatever on. She must be a college student, since she had a backpack at her feet and a lanyard hanging from her pocket. You didn’t recognize her, so she was probably your senior. She gave you a subtle glance before turning back to her laptop, and you ignored her. Walking (more limping) up to the cashier.

“Welcome. It’s pretty late,” said a man who didn’t seem too young, but nor too old. Probably in his mid - twenties. He had a small stubble on his chin and his longish hair is tied back, a few rebellious strands framing his decently structured face. You could make out his toned chest and broad shoulders underneath the beige button up he wore, a dusty pink apron around his waist, accompanied by a pair of black slacks. He’s attractive, you couldn’t deny. “Don’t you think it’s a bit too late for a pretty little lady like you to be walking around, alone, in a tee shirt?”

“I’m fine on my own,” you admit, “I’ve been here a few times, but I can’t remember the menu. Mind handing me one?” The man nods, reaching over something to grab a one sided menu, and he hands it to you. After glancing over it, you felt too nauseous to eat, but you needed caffeine, something to keep you going since sleep wasn’t going to be an option for you tonight. “Can I just get an americano? Make it large, please, I need it.”

“Oh, coffee at this hour?” He chuckles.

“This is a coffee shop,” you glance around, a little agitated.

“Yeah, yeah,” the man laughs out, waving a hand as he pressed a few buttons on the cash register, “I’m just teasing you, sweetheart. Is that all you want? An americano, large?”

“No, get me the green tea, too,” you sigh, placing down the menu. It’s not like you to get bitter drinks, let alone two. You’re actually more of a sweets kind of person. But, since you’re not feeling too well, you just want hot, bitter drinks to keep you from going insane.

The man nods, “Hmm, tough night?” You nod slowly, “Surprised you came to a coffee shop. Most people who have rough nights usually hang around at the bar down the road. What made you come here of all places?”

“Well, it’s the first place I thought of,” you shrug a shoulder, “I don’t want a hangover in the morning either. I always know how those go. Never had the best luck when I’m drunk.” You chuckle, smiling wistfully for a moment before it turns into a bitter frown at the thought of your vague first time with Jisung. You shake your head slowly, subtly. It wasn’t a mistake. Not at all. It wasn’t bad luck. But, right now, it kind of feels like it. You’ve gotten more attached to Jisung than you have the years before you both started fucking around. “Plus, my friend used to bring me here. Thought I’d see the place alone.”

“Well, I appreciate you stopping by,” the man smiles down at you, and you give him a brief one back, “What’s your name? What should I put as the name, sorry.”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” you grumble out your name.

“Are you a foreigner?”

“No. My parents just aren’t born here,” you respond, having gotten the question hundreds of times in the past.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss (Y/N) (L/N),” the man smiles, and you chuckle softly as he rings up the order, “My name is Jeongguk. I assume you go to the college down the road?” Jeongguk asks as you sit on one of the stools at the counter. You sigh, your shoulders dropping as you nod slowly. Watching as Jeongguk prepares the americano. “Ah, I used to go there. I already graduated.”

“What was your major?” You ask curiously.

“I was a fine arts major. I only have my undergrad, but I’m saving up to go back and get my masters,” Jeongguk says.

“Oh,” your eyes brighten, intrigued by the sudden conversation, “If you don’t mind me asking, what’ll you do with your masters once you get it?”

Jeongguk sighs, his head tilting slightly as he focuses his eyes on the drink in his hand, perfecting it, “I’m not sure, actually. There’s a lot of things I could do. I could just work under a company to make things for ‘em, like designs and shit like that. But, I’m more into painting. Heh, but there’s not much painting can get for you nowadays. I haven’t seen many jobs that take in painters, so I’m reconsidering whether or not painting should be my go - to.”

“Right,” you nod, completely understanding, “It’s an amazing skill to have, though. You could probably start up on social media and sell your works worldwide.”

“Social media’s never been my forte, but it’s a thought,” Jeongguk passes you the americano, and you don’t hesitate to take a sip of the hot drinking, cringing slightly at the bitter taste. But, you soon get used to it. “What’s your major?”

“Political science,” you chuckle.

“Oh - ho! We got a smarty - pants over here, now don’t we?” Jeongguk jokes as he grabs a white, bulky mug from a shelf. You chuckle, a bit flusters. Already feeling better from this conversation with him, “The only person I knew in political science was Chris! You know Chan? Bang Chan?”

“Yeah, he’s on my committee, we’re friends,” you shrug a shoulder.

“Nice. Let him know I said hi, won’t you?” You nod quickly, taking another sip of the coffee, “Is it as much work as they say?”

“Well, with this dumb team I was pressured into, yeah, it’s a lot more than most other people with different majors seem to have,” you answer, and Jeongguk nods slowly, listening intently as he puts a kettle filled with water on a small stovetop. He then turns to you and leans against the bar table separating you both, “It’s fine, though. I’m just doing it to get a job so I can provide myself with enough money to get what I need and a bit more to have what I want. People in that field get lots of money, you know?”

“Yeah, just depends on what you decide to be,” Jeongguk nods.

“I guess you’re right,” you nod slowly, “I’m most likely to graduate with my bachelors, but I’m gonna take law so I can be a lawyer. Either tort or criminal, I don’t mind.”

“Ah, those are tricky fields in law, aren’t they,” Jeongguk chuckles, and you nod slowly, “Well, I wish you the best of luck. By the way, when did you and Chris become friends? I’ve been friends with him for a few years, now, and I don’t recall him being with you.”

“Oh, I only befriended him at the beginning of the year,” you say, and Jeongguk nods, “I went to a party with my friend and met him there. We’re also on the same committee for planning for the school, so we got pretty close.”

“You mean the huge party right before school started up, don’t you?” You nod slowly, “Mm. I know just what party you’re talking about. I think I might’ve seen you. You looked familiar when you walked in, so it’d make sense. Let me guess, were you with one of Chris’s buds? I forget his name, but I think his family name is Han, right?”

Your eyes instantly roll, and you nod, “Yeah. Han Jisung. I went with him.”

“Ouch, what a reaction,” Jeongguk laughs, noting your eyes which rolled sassily, “Did he do something to you?”

“It’s a long story.” You admit. It’s not too long, actually. It could be simplified, but you didn’t want to talk about it to a stranger.

“I have time,” Jeongguk says, smiling brightly.

You raise a brow, “So do I, and I’m going to spend it drinking my coffee.” Jeongguk raises his hands in surrender.

“Fine, fine. Have it your way,” And finally, Jeongguk finished your tea and gave it to you.

You both talked for the remainder of the night (well, morning) until the sun came up. You had about five coffees, trying different kinds that Jeongguk suggested, and another green tea with honey in it. You learned that Jeongguk graduated early, mostly since he didn’t have enough money, but he was also ahead of the rest of the year by a long run, so he privately graduated. He didn’t start working at the coffee shop until a few months ago, and works the night shift and was the only one there. Apparently, no one usually came in during his shift except for travellers passing by or the tired college students, which were more likely to come by and study.

You didn’t even notice it was morning until Jeongguk’s face illuminated with the sunlight over the city’s buildings. You both traded numbers, and you promised to come again during his shift on his days. He said he’d text you, but you weren’t too sure he would. You were at least thankful to not be totally alone that night, since part of you knew that Jisung was going to get to your head, and you’d be either upset or angry. Jeongguk was able to rid your mind of him, even if only for those five or so hours you sat there, talking to him.

But, once you walked into your dorm to change into a quick pair of different clothes, all you could think about is Jisung. Debating your feelings.

You, however, constantly repeated to yourself that you didn’t even like him like that. He’s only a friend. Only a friend. Have it be with or without benefits, he’s only a friend.

You decided to just wear a pair of baggy sweats and an old hoodie, not caring much for your appearance. Although there’s tons of caffeine running through your system, you were still exhausted from the lack of sleep, and your mood had been dropped. You knew there was probably going to be another meeting today with Chunae, but you couldn’t be too sure. You didn’t get any work done last night (obviously), and you don’t know whether or not you’ll hear it from her or not, whether or not she’ll pull you out of class again for a meeting you could care less about.

You didn’t see Jisung for the first few hours of school, per usual. He didn’t try texting you nor calling you, which you were a bit skeptical about, but you tried to ignore it. You’re supposed to be agitated with him. And, you are. You still cared for him, and you still miss him despite it being only one night. But, then again, he probably didn’t miss you the way you missed him.

He would miss you, sure. But he wouldn’t miss the way you kiss him, right? He wouldn’t miss the way you hold him. The way you love him.

But, you’re not in love with him.

You can’t be.

You did see Chris, though. He actually walked up to you during passing hall and pulled you aside, against a wall. He wore a concerned, tired look as he folded his arms. Staring down at you, and rose a brow. It was silent for a moment until you emit a low, “What?”

“What’s going on between you and Jisung?” Christopher says sternly, and your blood runs cold right then and there. Your eyes widen and your brows raise as you stare up at him. Did he know? You’re too scared to answer.

“What… do you mean?” You utter out.

“Jisung called me last night asking if you were at my dorm last night at, like, midnight. Woke me up when I should’ve gotten sleep…” Christopher grumbles, rubbing his temple, “He said he thought you would have run off to my place. Didn’t say shit as to why, though. Didn’t say a damn thing. The boy even asked me to go to your dorm to see if you were there, but no one answered. I figured you were asleep. I just need to know why Jisung had to call me at fucking midnight ‘cause of you.” Christopher’s Australian accent slips into his Korean, which means he’s probably both irritated and tired.

“Oh… I’m sorry. No, I was out at some coffee shop until, like, five in the morning last night,” You answer truthfully, and Christopher sighs, “Oh, and by the way. I talked to Jeongguk there. He said hello.”

“Really, now? Jeon Jeongguk?” Christopher asks, and you shrug a shoulder, “Well, I appreciate it. Tell the guy I miss him. But, that’s not the point. At this point, I’m kind of concerned. I went over my conversation with Jisung last night all morning and yet I can’t find a single reason why you would be running to my dorm like he thought or why he didn’t go see you himself. Did he do something wrong?”

“It’s not that it’s wrong. I’m just upset about it,” you answer, and Christopher nods slowly.

“Do you mind telling me what that is? If you do, it’s a possibility I can help,” Christopher suggests, but you smile and slowly shake your head.

“It’s not something you can help with this time, Chan,” You sigh, “It’s a bit too personal.”

“Okay, now I’m really concerned. I might have been Jisung’s friend longer, but I care about you, too, (Y/N). Please tell me what’s wrong. I know something’s happening between the two of you. And if it’s really that personal, I promise on my life not to tell anybody,” Christopher says.

You sigh and look around before grabbing the man’s hand and pulling him away to somewhere more private. He didn’t argue, but he seemed a bit surprised at how quickly you acted. You pulled him out to the courtyard, not caring much for being tardy, anymore. Your heart thumped in your chest. The rules vividly recite themselves in your mind; “No one else is supposed to know about this relationship.”

Well, here goes one rule flushed down the toilet.

Once you stopped, Christopher shoves his hands in his pocket, shrugging his shoulders at you, “Okay, now what is it?”

You shake your head slightly, debating whether or not to tell him. If Jisung found out, it’d be the death of you. But, you don’t know if you should be excited about that or scared. You’re not sure how he’d react to such news from Christopher.

You know what, fuck it, you thought to yourself.

“Well?”

“We’ve been fucking since the party,” you blurt out, and Christopher’s brows raise in shock. At both the news and how flat toned and blunt you were being. “I got a bit too tipsy and we ended up having sex. We made specific rules, which is so dumb of me to say since one of them is to literally tell nobody. Which means you can’t tell anyone and you can’t let Jisung know that you know this or he will kill me, Chan. Kill me, got it? Whatever, it… he and I had a bit of a fight after doing it last night.”

“But why?” Christopher carefully asks.

“Because he’s after a girl. A girl I’m not too fond of,” you admit.

“Chunae, isn’t it?”

“How’d you know?” You raise a brow, glad he isn’t overreacting to your confession to sleeping around with Jisung.

“Let’s just say that he’s been flirting with her every chance he gets,” Christopher admits, and you sigh softly, looking down in disappointment, but trying your hardest not to make it too obvious about how upset you were, “They share some classes, and he’s apparently been talking to her every chance he gets. Not to mention, Chunae seemed pretty into him, too.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you sigh, tiredness suddenly coming over you, as well as exhaustion, “We fought about it, but I’m the one in the wrong. He has every right to like someone and want to date someone. But… I dunno.”

“Do you love him?” Christopher asks slowly, and you take a seat at the nearest bench, Christopher following behind you and sitting next to you.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully in a small voice, “I really don’t know. One part of me misses him so much whenever I’m without him. One part of me loves him, but the other part just tells me that he’s only my friend and nothing more. But, yeah. He wanted me to stay the night at his dorm, but I didn’t since he only had me over and treated me well because he’s going to cut things off soon.”

“Do you want him to cut things off?”

“No!” You yell, a little too upset with the situation, and Christopher breaths in through his nose. You cover your face with his hands, slightly muffled by your hands, “I don’t! But he says that we will, and I-” you don’t bother to look up, cutting yourself off before you start crying out of nowhere. Your head hurt from the lack of sleep, but your eyes hurt from the need and resistance to cry.

Christopher placed a warm hand on your back, and you breath slowly.

“I don’t want him to leave me, Chris… I really don’t,” you shake your head slightly. Christopher’s hand massages your back and shoulders reassuringly. His warm hand giving you the reassurance you needed.

“I know, (Y/N), I know. It’s alright,” he sighs, his arm wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug. You don’t resist it. In fact, you lift yourself up to let your hands grip onto his shirt to hug him tightly, “If you’ll like, I can talk to Jisung. I won’t tell him that I know about the… benefits… but, I’ll let him know that you just don’t feel comfortable about his relationship with Chunae, alright? How does that sound?” Christopher’s voice is sweet and soft, calming you from your growing tears.

“That sounds perfect, Channie… thank you,” you whisper softly, your head burrowed in his chest.

It’s weird being held by another man. Another man that isn’t Han Jisung. It’s nice, especially since Christopher has such a loving and gentle personality. His hands hug you without any awkwardness, and it’s nice that someone other than Jisung can hug you without being uncomfortable.

But, your comfort was soon taken away when Christopher let’s go of you and shifts in his seat. You look up, and you see someone familiar walking towards you both. At first, your tears — blurred eyes make it impossible to see who it is, but once your eyes are cleared, Han Jisung’s perfect face comes into view. His face is stoic, his lips down turned in a subtle frown. His eyes are focused on you, and you stand up in your spot, clutching your backpack to get ready to leave.

“Don’t you dare move, (Y/N),” Jisung yells loudly, and you freeze at the spot. Christopher’s eyes widening from how aggressive Jisung sounded. Once he’s directly in front of you, he finally looks over to Christopher, and steps towards him, “I asked you to check up on her, Chan. Not do whatever the fuck you guys were doing just now.”

“What, comforting her?” Christopher stands his ground, standing up despite them both being the same height, “Something you should have been doing instead of me?”

Your hand clamps over your mouth. Jisung’s brows furrow, and his fists clench, but he doesn’t do anything, “I asked you a simple favor. To check up on her for me.”

“And that’s what I was doing,” Christopher defends himself, and you watch curiously. Neither of them spare you a glance, both staring at each other, “I’m not trying to pick a fight here, Jisung. But, it’s not my place to take care of her in… your situation.” Christopher looks Jisung up and down, and Jisung wears a disgusted look on his face. “I only asked what the fuck you did for you to think she was running off to me. ‘Cause, she was actually at the fucking coffee shop all damn morning talking to Jeongguk.”

“Jeongguk?” Jisung’s brows furrow, and he looks over to you briefly. You slowly nod, “Did you sleep at all last night?” You slowly shook your head, and Jisung groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. He turns back to Christopher, “Can you leave, Chan? I need to talk to her.”

Christopher looks past Jisung to you, and you shake your head slowly. Somewhat afraid of being alone with Jisung just for what you will talk about. However, Christopher gives you an apologetic look before turning back to Jisung, “Fine. Call me later (Y/N). If you don’t, I’m stopping by your dorm to check up on you.”

“Alright… Bye, Chan…” You mumble loudly back, and Christopher gives Jisung a subtle glance before grabbing his things and walking away.

You sat back down, half expecting Jisung to do the same. But, no, he stood in front of you. Towering over you as you stared at your feet. His hands stuff themselves into his hoodie’s pockets, and there’s a tense silence.

“Jisung…”

“Why did you run off like that last night, (Y/N)?” Jisung immediately cuts you off, and you can’t find yourself having the courage to look him in the eyes. You felt embarrassed for yourself, but you had to stay and talk to him. You don’t know how to answer. You don’t have a straight answer in your tired mind. “Answer me, (Y/N). We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep quiet.”

“I don’t know, Jisung,” you breathe out, gripping the bench below you, “I… Was just irritated.”

“Why?” Jisung crouches down so you can’t avoid his eyes. Unlike how you thought, Jisung’s eyes were more concerned than angry, like you thought they’d be. His hand escapes his pocket to rest on your knee, “I knew you weren’t irritated. You were just fine before I started talking about Chunae.”

Caught red handed. You stared at him like a deer in headlights, and your lips purse, trying your hardest to find an answer.

“I don’t know, Jisung. I really don’t,” you whisper to him pitifully, and Jisung shakes his head.

“No… No, I know you know the answer, (Y/N). I can make everything better if you just talked to me,” Jisung says in a voice you rarely heard. He’s usually joking around or simply has such an upbeat attitude. It’s so rare to see Jisung this serious, it almost makes you want to cry by how it affects you so. The way his voice lowers, relaxing and calming, yet stern. The way his eyes weren’t bright or happy, but not cold or angry.

It was almost scary.

“You say that as if there’s something wrong with me,” you try to chuckle bitterly, dodging his stare. But, his head moves with yours, and his hand that rests on your knee rises to firmly cup your cheek, turning your head to look directly at him with no exceptions.

“Because there is. There’s something you’re not telling me,” Jisung answers.

“Jisung,” your voice hardens, your heartbeat rising as Jisung’s words tug and pull at your heart, “I need to get to class. I’m already very late.”

“No, you’re staying here until we figure this out,” Jisung’s other hand grips your wrist, tugging at it, even though you never moved to get up in the first place. He seemed on edge, and took a brief glance behind him before turning back to you, “You’re my best friend for life, (Y/N). You know that. I care so much for you, and if there’s something wrong with my decisions, then I need you to tell me.”

“I…” your eyes close for a minute, nibbling on your bottom lip before looking up at him, “I don’t want you to cut things off between us, Jisung. I want to keep doing this… whatever this is. It makes me happy, Jisung.”

“Oh, (Y/N)...” Jisung sighs softly, his head dipping for a moment before he looks up at you with a pitiful smile, “Is that why you were mad last night?”

“So what if it is? You won’t do anything about it,” you answer, and Jisung’s brows furrow, “Even if I begged on my knees for you to keep doing this with me, you’d still reject me, wouldn’t you?”

“I — (Y/N), you know that I—“

“Wouldn’t you?” You cut him off, your glossy eyes boring into his. His hand falls from your face, resting on your thigh, and he squeezes it slightly.

“It depends…” Jisung answers truthfully, “On what I’m rejecting you for.” Your frown deepens, upset with his answer. Even so, you would’ve been upset if he said no. “If it’s for something stupid, like someone told me to stop or I had moral changes, hell no. But if it were for something like… like Chunae and I… then yes.”

You don’t answer him. You just stare at him, blinking every so often to try and keep away the growing tears. He would choose Chunae over you. Of course. You should have known. Everyone loved Chunae. Chunae deserved everyone’s love for how pretty, smart and proper she is. Of course Han Jisung would reject the sassy, immature and lazy (Y/N) (L/N) for a perfect woman like Chunae. You’re not a perfect woman. Not at all.

Not for Han Jisung.

It was then, at that moment of thoughts of Chunae and Jisung running through your head that you came to a sudden realization as you stared into Jisung’s worried eyes.

You’re in love with him.

You’re in love with Han Jisung. Your best friend.

“Get away from me,” you mumble.

“What…?” Jisung’s brows furrow.

“I said get away from me,” your broken voice whimpers out, “You make everything so much harder for me. Everything…” You shove away his hands and stand up, but Jisung is quick to scramble up and wrap his arms around your waist, his chest pressed against your back as his face burrows into your neck.

Your heart burns badly. It’s painful, too painful. You feel as though you’re going to collapse from how painful it is.

“Don’t go, yet. Please. You’re confusing me, (Y/N),” Jisung whispers into your neck, his warm breath sending tingles down your spine.

“No. I said get away from me,” you try and push him away, scooping your arms under his to try and push him away. But, Jisung is oddly persistent.

But, you eventually get away, grabbing your things and dashing off.

“No, (Y/N), wait! Please!” Jisung yells after you, but you're already to the building doors, throwing yourself into the building and dashing to the girl’s bathroom to recollect yourself.

And, thankfully, it’s empty. You throw your backpack down and lean against the sink. Finally, you let the tears fall. They fell down your cheeks fast and hot, the aching feeling of relief in your mind allowing you to breath slowly as the tears dripped mercilessly down your face, showing no signs of stopping.

You stared at yourself in the mirror as you cried. You were quiet. Making no sound other than sniffling here and there. You don’t even try to wipe away the tears that stain your face, too bothered and eager to cry to do so. Your eyes grow red and big, your cheeks reddening from the tears and your heart aching badly in your chest.

Once the thought of being in love with Han Jisung enters your mind, you look away from yourself. Your head falling, and you grip your hair. Shaking your head in your arms, Letting out muffled, “No, no, no!”s as you started to weakly, softly sob. Your body trembles with your tears.

You can’t be in love with Han Jisung. It’ll only end in your heartbreak. Jisung will cut things off immediately, and probably push you away once he finds out. You can’t for the life of you let him find out. You’re too scared to tell him yourself, so you have to keep it a secret from anyone who might be able to tell him and have him believe it. It’s too risky, so you’d have to keep this painful secret to yourself, no matter how badly you wanted to babble on and on about how much you hate this feeling and about how good he makes you feel, emotionally and physically.

You didn’t say a word to anyone after your short breakdown in the bathroom. You soon grew too tired to cry, and too stressed to go back to class, so you waited out that period before your lunch hour would come by. You didn’t know where to go. There would be girls hogging the bathroom, and hundreds of other students roaming the campus. You really didn’t want to be around people at this point, but you didn’t have much of a choice in the first place.

So, you went to the courtyard. You called Christopher, telling him about what happened, and he said he was going to be there right away and to meet him by the outdoor canteen. So, you sat at an empty table, waiting.

You scrolled mindlessly through your phone, wearing a blank, stoic expression as nothing was present in your all — too tired mind. Your backpack resting against your leg as you waited.

When you hear loud footsteps coming near, you look up. Not expecting who it was at first. It’s Chunae, and she looks on edge and upset. Her perfectly tinted lips frown darkly at you, and she stops in front of you.

“And where were you last class period?” She asks, and you raise your brow, turning off your phone and resting it on the table.

“Not there? Why do you care?” You scowl back at her, staring up at her with a dark glare. However, she doesn’t seem to back down, only to get angrier.

“I was supposed to give you more papers for people to contact, as well as parents and volunteers,” she throws a stack of papers in front of you. And you gawk at it. She already gave you so much shit to do beforehand, why the hell is she giving you more? You already have enough work, she should know that. She knew as well as the rest how busy political students are. And she had the audacity to throw a stack of papers on your desk and demand you to analyze and contact each person? “I want them done by this weekend, no exceptions.”

“You don’t get to decide that, Chunae,” You scoff, smiling bitterly at her. Your own anger rising, “I already have enough shit from the other stack of documents you thrusted down my throat on top of my school work. I’m not doing all this shit in less than a week!” You nearly yell, but you don’t raise your voice too much. You thrust an angry finger at the stack.

“Listen, (Y/N),” Chunae sighs, “I’m not in the best of moods right now. I don’t want to deal with bullshit right now when we’re on a tight schedule. This event is in danger of being shut down completely if we don’t finish it soon.”

“And does it look like I give two shits?” You sarcastically smile.

“Don’t joke with me, (Y/N), and please control your language. It’s giving me a headache.”

“Oh, boo — hoo,” you roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair, “What do you want? A cookie?”

“Don’t, (Y/N). I swear.” Chunae vaguely threatens, and you smirk.

“You swear what?” You urge, standing up slowly. Taking a step towards her, and she takes a small one back. Her expression doesn’t change. Her dead, yet beautiful brown eyes glaring into yours, “What’ll you do? Give me more paperwork? Tell me off to Daddy? Punch my teeth in?” You glare down at her hand, cocking a snarky brow at it before glaring at her, “I’d like to see you try to lay a finger on me.”

“Like you could do any better,” Chunae snaps, and you’re surprised how she’s snapping back instead of de — escalating the situation. It makes you excited. The urge to punch her only grew, “Your words are louder than your actions, (Y/N). Don’t underestimate me.”

You laugh loudly, “Ha! That’s funny! You… scary? Hey, I give an A- for effort, how about it?” You elbow her arm jokingly before turning back to glare through the paperwork she so selfishly threw your way.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” Chunae snaps.

“You forget who’s older.”

“You forget who has Han Jisung.”

You freeze. The paper falling out of your hand as you turn slowly to see a smirking Chunae. Smiling as though she killed off her worst enemy. Your mouth falls open, and you scoff.

“What… the fuck did you just say?” You grumble darkly, her hands balling into fists at your sides.

“I said… You forget who has Han Jisung,” she repeats slowly.

You had heard her loud and clear. Just like you heard Jisung when he confessed his adoration for Chunae. You were just in shock. You did not expect this out of someone like her. And, just like that, all your respect was lost for the woman. She crossed a border she could never escape. She’s crossed a line she can never retract over. She’s pushed buttons inside you that can’t be fixed.

“I dare you to say that again.” You growl through gritted teeth, and in the corners of your eyes, you can see Christopher walking up. But, a small crowd had started to watch you and Chunae. He stops by them, deciding not to intervene physically.

“(Y/N)?” Christopher yells, and you turn your head to him. “Is…” He grows silent when he sees your angry glare.

You turn back to Chunae, Christopher watching silently, prepared if anything happens. He pulls out his phone, and presses a few buttons before pressing it to his ear. Speaking to the person on the other line under his breath. You could care less, though, and you mainly focused on Chunae.

“I said I dare you to say that again!” You finally yell, and the people in the canteen grow silent. All heads turning to the both of you, and Christopher continues talking on the phone to whoever it is. Your hand flies up, gripping the hem of Chunae’s blouse. Pulling her intimidatingly close. You’re slightly taller than her, so she looked up at you.

Chunae only chuckles softly, “I have Han Jisung… He’s mine, isn’t he?”

As if on cue, your fist, knuckling white from clenching it so hard, comes into contact with Chunae’s cheek right as an out of breath Han Jisung comes running to the scene. But, you’re too busy to pay him any mind.

Of course, like you expected, Chunae flies to the ground. Immediately cupping her face and letting out a brief cry. And, just like that, you’re the bad guy. You sigh and roll your eyes. Shaking off your hand, which aches slightly from the impact on her defined cheekbone. You turn to Christopher and Jisung. Jisung stands there, staring between you and Chunae, who lay on the ground, holding her black and blue face. Christopher just gawks at you.

“What the fuck, (Y/N)?!” Jisung yells.

“Hey, before you overreact, I can explain…”

But, you’re quickly cut off when you feel a yank at your ankle, and you let out a yelp as you get yanked down. Your body yanked down, and the top of your head slams against the table you were sitting out, letting out a loud thunk through the air. And, you can briefly see Jisung trying to run up, but Christopher holds him back briefly.

Your hand flies up to your head, dizziness overtaking you as your mind falls blank for a second. Your head begins to throb, and you hiss through your teeth. However, you’re not gifted with enough time to get over the pain like Chunae did before she towers over you. Her high heels are kicked off, and she presses the ball of her foot into your chest, forbidding airway.

You’re a little too dizzy to think, but you’re conscious enough to react. Your hand flies up on instinct, your hands gripping her ankle and twisting it with your hands, causing her to fall. Before she could have time to get back up, you climb back on top of her and straddle her stomach.

She kicked and struggled, but your hands gripped her wrists (all too familiar with this position with the help of Jisung), pinning them to the ground. Your head aches, throbbing painfully. You’re still dizzy, trying to stay conscious from both the lack of sleep and from your head hitting the table.

“Hey! Hey, calm down. Just, oh fuck, my head. Oh, my god, Chunae, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You grumble as you squeeze your eyes shut, as if that would ease the pain. But, it doesn’t.

Jisung and Christopher eventually come over. Jisung’s arms wrap around you, just below your breasts as he pulls you off. You don’t struggle, but Chunae does. Christopher struggles pulling Chunae away, who still tries to pummel you.

She got a good hit on you. But it wasn’t really her. She just yanked your ankle, which threw your head against the table. You melted into Jisung’s arms, and he helped you to your feet carefully. Every movement made your headache worse. It blistered your head, sending shots of pain through your body. You tried your best to stay conscious, but it was a bit more difficult than one might seem. So, you focused on the way Jisung’s hands held you to try and keep you awake.

You faintly heard a teacher running over, asking about what the hell was going on. Jisung excused him, saying that there was a fight but it’s been handled and he’s taking you to the nurse’s office. So, the professor let you and Chunae go without much argument (probably not wanting to deal with something like this in the middle of the day.

But, Jisung didn’t take you to the nurse’s office. Christopher did, though, dragging a struggling Chunae away to the nurse’s office with no help. Jisung whispered incoherent words to you as one of his hands gripped your waist, the other holding your hand as you stumbled on your own two feet. Your vision blurred and your stomach erupted in pain. You had a concussion, all because Chunae as able to swipe at your ankle.

You were in too much pain to think clearly, hanging onto Jisung, “Ji… my head hurts so fuckin’ bad.” Your words are muffled by the lump in your throat that grew from the pain.

“I know, baby. She got you pretty good, didn’t she,” Jisung’s soft words seem to calm your head a bit, but it goes away the moment your foot plants on the ground to take another step, “It’s alright… I’m sure she wasn’t in a good mood, that’s all.”

“Shut up,” you grumble out, and Jisung sighs softly, squeezing your waist briefly as he walks you through a pair of doors and down a hall.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Let’s not talk about Chunae right now. Let’s just get you to rest for a bit,” Jisung reassured, and you thanked whatever god is out there that he’ll shut up about Chunae.

“Where’re we goin’?” You look around, squinting through your blurred vision, as if that’d help (news flash; it didn’t).

“Back to my dorm,” Jisung answers, and you turn to him, “Jeongin isn’t back, yet, so don’t worry. Besides, we have better shit than the nurse will give you. She’ll just give you an ice pack and tell you to move on with your day, now won't she?” You think about it for a moment, although nothing goes through your mind. But, you agree with him and nod slowly.

The rest of the walk is silent. Sometimes, you’d nearly trip over your own feet, but with Jisung’s hand on your waist, he always caught you and whispered words of reassurance that never truly got all the way through your brain. Eventually though, you both made it to Jisung’s dorm. He unlocked it with one hand easily and threw the white door open. Not bothering to flick on the light before he walked in, kicking the door closed, and sat you on his bed.

Once you sat down, you felt like you’d been holding the world on your shoulders. You got a bit of relief since you weren’t moving around as much, but it still hurt like a bitch. Your head throbbed, everywhere. Your body twitched in pain. You couldn’t think straight nor could you see especially clearly, and you felt like you were about to throw up all of the coffee and tea you’d had this morning.

Jisung shuffled through one of his drawers before pulling out a first aid kit. He took his chair from his desk and rolled it in front of you, sitting on it and placing the first aid kit in his lap before opening it. “Dad always said to keep it handy. Turns out it’s finally coming to good use. I just need to see if there’s a wound on your head.”

And, so, without struggle, you lay forward, your head resting on Jisung’s knee as he gently moved your hair to the sides, looking for something. He did end up finding a bruise on the top of your head and said that it would be best to leave it alone for the time being before icing it. He gave you a few pills of over the counter medication to help ease the pain. But, he seemed a bit conflicted. It was mostly silent, you didn’t really talk since you didn’t have the strength to nor the will to. Chunae might be pretty weak, but with a blow to your head on the table like that… that’ll fuck you up real good.

Once you’re laying against his pillows, Jisung finally pipes up again.

“Come here.”

“Hmm?” You look up, and Jisung’s legs are spread slightly, one hand on his thigh as he looked over to you. His hair shadowing his eyes slightly.

“I said come here, now don’t be stubborn,” He motions you over with his hand, and you groan and squeeze your eye shut as you sit up and slide off of the bed and walk up to him. Jisung guides you around and slowly onto his lap. His arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

“Jisung?” You mumble softly.

“Shh… This is going to help you with the pain, baby,” Jisung whispers against your ear, and you feel his press a gentle kiss to the back of your ear. You breathe in sharply, somewhat knowing where this is going as Jisung’s hand grips at your shirt. “It’ll make your head feel so much better, baby. I’ll make you feel good, alright?”

“Mm… how would that help?” You sighed out, your head already leaning onto Jisung’s shoulder, your eyes closing in relaxation as Jisung’s hands caressed your stomach, nearing both your breasts and your womanhood, but not daring to go near just yet.

“It’ll make all your muscles relax. It’ll make you feel better,” Jisung whispers into your ear, making you shiver, “Don’t you want that? You want me to touch you, babygirl?”

You can’t think straight. All morality and logic is thrown out your mental window, so you nod quickly without thinking. One your hands swiping up to caress Jisung’s neck as he pressed a few light kisses to your ear. “Alright, (Y/N). My sweet baby. Just relax for me, alright?” The praise makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you nearly forget that he’s only your friend. Your legs spread slightly, your back pressing to his chest. Letting him hold your weight. “That’s my good girl. My perfect (Y/N).”

His. His perfect (Y/N). Those words made you happy, oh so happy. Even if a thought couldn’t bear to finish in your head, you still enjoyed such words. It’s a break from the name calling and the dirty talk. It made you feel like the only girl in the world. Like Chunae was never a part of the picture to begin with.

Jisung’s hands slowly unbutton your jeans, his lips still pressing kisses to the side of your neck and your ear. Occasionally whispering short sentences like, “Good girl… That’s right… Oh, baby…” It makes you squirm in his grasp as he undoes your jeans and pushes them off of you. You weakly lift up your hips to help him a little bit as Jisung lets your pants fall to the ground with a low thud. You press your ass against Jisung, your leg spreading a bit more at the feeling of the cold air of the dorm meeting your clothed womanhood, which got wetter by the second.

You let your head lift, resting your head against Jisung’s cheek to let it rest, but you wanted to watch his hands as they softly caressed your thighs. Sending calming chills through your legs and your gut as his warm hands touched your thighs and hips ever so intimately. You melted into his touch, your lips parting to allow your low breaths to become audible. You could feel Jisung’s breath against your ear and your neck, and your neck craned slightly to feel more of it.

“You’re so beautiful, (Y/N), you know that?” Jisung’s low, sudden voice sent butterflies exploding in your stomach. You whimpered softly in response, not knowing how to respond to such praise, since Jisung was quite the degrader. He’d usually call you all sorts of dirty things. He’s probably taking pity on you since you’re hurt, but it doesn’t matter. It still makes you feel so happy and so turned on. “My beautiful baby…” Jisung whispers, seemingly to himself as his fingers brush over your clothed cunt.

“Jisunggie… don’t talk nonsense,” you utter out, sharply gasping when you feel the base of his fingers press against your clothed labia.

“What nonsense?” Jisung chuckles deeply, his fingers rubbing slowly circles, making your eyes close in bliss and your head rest against Jisung’s shoulder, your hands gripping the arms of the desk chair as Jisung’s other hand squeezes your inner thigh. “Don’t say that it’s nonsense. You’re only lying to yourself.”

You didn’t respond, basking in the pleasure and praise as Jisung’s experienced fingers rubbed along your clothes labia. Soaking your panties through with your juices (yet another pair of perfectly good underwear ruined by Jisung), the outline of your pussy showing through and letting Jisung touch even more sensitive areas.

He goes for a while without actually touching your bare womanhood. Mainly his index and middle finger rubbing and massaging your labia and over your pussy. Jisung’s eyes focused on his hands as he worked them over you. You feel yourself relax, the pain easing from you. You forget about the headache, the dizziness. The nausea and the aching throughout your body; forgotten. All that’s on your mind is how intimately Jisung touches you. How his experienced hands move over your sensitive pussy in such a delicate, yet firm way. So gentle, yet so emphatic.

So loving, yet so bitterly resistant.

Your mind grows blank. Too caught up in the relaxing pleasure and from overcoming your concussion to think straightly. All that keeps your mind wandering is Jisung and Jisung alone. Not Christopher. Not the man, Jeongguk, that you met at the coffee shop. Not even Chunae. Only Han Jisung.

After long minutes of slowly teasing your cunt, soaking your panties with your wetness, Jisung finally bids you one good deed and taps your hip. Guiding you to raise it as he slips them off slowly. Letting them fall down your legs and onto the floor below. You step out of them. Your bottom half now completely exposed, yet you still wear all that’s on your torso. You didn’t care, though. It was better than being fully clothed, anyways.

“Oh, fuck…” Jisung breaths out in a rugged manner as his fingers slowly brush over the lips of your pussy, your sweet wetness seeping from you, already coating Jisung’s fingertips, “You’re so wet for me, baby. So wet for me. It makes me want to fuck you so hard. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” You frantically nod against Jisung’s head, watching as his fingers push against your labia and against your core. Firmly pressing against your clit, and your back arches as you grind your hips on his fingers. “But, I won’t. Not yet, anyways. I’m going to make you feel better, not make you scream and give you a headache all over again.”

Jisung chuckles deeply, as if what he just said was nothing more than a joke, but you didn't laugh along. He doesn’t seem to care, though, since you’re obviously so immersed in the way Jisung’s fingers rub your pussy gently. His lips part slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck as his middle finger teases your entrance.

“Jisung, ahh~... Yes, please, just like that…” you whisper out in sharp breaths as Jisung slowly inserts his middle finger into you. Pumping slowly until his knuckles are pressed against your heat. “Fuck, yes… Love your fingers so much, Jisung - ah.”

“I know, baby,” Jisung tenses below you at your words, and his finger slightly curves inside you, making your leg twitch. But, his hand that caressed your thigh gripped your leg, keeping you steady on his lap. “I don’t usually get to finger you like this, do I? Letting my hands do all the work, hmm?”

No, he didn’t. But damn, you wanted him to more often. You didn’t answer, only with a delicate moan as Jisung’s middle finger slowly pumps itself in and out of you. Curving slightly every time it thrusted into you to hit that special spot. Sending chills through your torso as his finger worked inside you so well. Your walls clench around him, despite how he was going slow. It wasn’t painfully slow, but not enough to make you cum quick enough. It’s a slow burn. Slowly building up your sensitivity as his palm pressed against your clit.

“You take my fingers so well, (Y/N) - ah… You’re always so good for me, aren’t you?” Jisung comments, his voice low, yet gentle. Soft to the ear, and not as aggressive and dark as it tended to be during sex. It sent you on an overdrive. It drove you crazy by just his tone of voice. It made your heart ache and your pussy wetter and wetter. “You don’t know how hard this is for me, baby…”

Oh, you knew. You can feel his hard dick pressing against your ass. The only thing keeping you two apart was his few articles of clothing. But, no matter what he was wearing, you could still feel how he ached underneath you. You mentally applauded him, but you were too lost in the lust to actually bid him something of a congratulations for being able to hold back this long (since he was usually pretty desperate to get his dick inside you).

It’s another minute or so until Jisung pushes in another finger. Slowly stretching you out and making you moan even louder. The way his fingers curled ever so slightly inside you, hitting that special spot over and over again drove you insane. His fingers pressing against it firmly with the tips of it. Your mind hazed with lust and desire, and your craving for him grew even bigger and even more intense.

“Shit, Jisung - ah… That feels so good ~,” you moan out as you meet with Jisung’s knuckles, grinding into his fingers.

“Hmm… does it, baby? You feel good?” You nod slowly to his words, and Jisung breathily chuckles, smiling, “See? I said it would help.”

“I don’t care about that…'' you sigh out softly, although it wasn’t entirely the truth and you were thankful that Jisung’s suggestion was able to subside your headache. “I want you to fuck me dumb, Jisung. I want to think about nothing but you.”

Jisung’s fingers stay inside you, his hand pressed against your throbbing pussy as he looks at your face. You already looked so fucked out. So desperate, your eyes craving and needy. “Are you sure?”

You slowly nod, turning your head and pressing a kiss to his lips briefly. It wasn’t too sloppy, but your tongue brushed over his lips, “Yes, Jisung… I want you to make me your bitch…”

“Oh, sweet, sweet (Y/N)...” Jisung chuckles darkly, his hand pulling itself from your pussy, making you twitch and gasp loudly as his wet hand flies up to grip your cheeks. Pushing your head back slightly as his fingers press into your jaw, holding your head in place as you clenched around nothing. Your pussy craves both release and Jisung ever so badly.

“You were my bitch since the beginning,” Jisung’s voice grows familiarly dark, and you try to clamp your legs shut from the chills that run through your womanhood. But, Jisung’s hand yanks your legs apart. “Keep your legs spread for me. I’m going to fuck you until you’re begging for me to stop.”

You let out a breathy moan, and, at first, you thought Jisung was going to pull you into a kiss. But, he didn’t. He chose a rougher path. He quickly pushes you off of him. Standing up and pushing you face first onto the bed. The back of his hand pushing your face down into the sheets, the other guiding your hips up slowly. Spreading your legs for him. Such a dirty position, your dripping pussy on display for no one other than Han Jisung.

But, he doesn’t spend much time staring at your pussy. Instead, his hands grip your wrists, and he grinds his clothed, hard cock against your wet pussy. He let out a breathy moan, leaning over your so he was next to your ear as he whispered, “You see how hard you make me, (Y/N)? You see you fucking riled up you make me? Makes me want to fuck this pussy all damn day. Have you sit on my cock all fucking day, huh?”

You moan out in response, your hair spread as your hoodie fell down. Your bra is slightly exposed, and Jisung pulls himself up. Basically ripping off your bra and tossing it to the side. Not even bothering with the hoodie itself as he tore down his jeans.

You couldn’t watch him, so you knew he was fully exposed when you heard the snap and fall of his boxers. It’s almost an instant when his throbbing head comes out and presses against your pussy. Your lips fall wide open as Jisung rubs his cock over your soaking pussy.

“Oh, fuck, you’re so wet for me,” Jisung moans out lowly, “So ready for my cock, like always. So desperate for me. So needy for me cock, aren’t you? Already so fucked out and I haven’t even put my dick inside you yet. Such a slutty girl…”

You moan out, your back arching, presenting yourself more to him, “Jisung! Jisung, please just fuck me…! I need it so bad, please…So bad…” You breath out rapidly, clutching the sheets.

Jisung lets out a shaky breath in response to your begging, “Since you asked so nicely…”

And, like an instant, Jisung was inside you. His hips pressed against your ass, his hands guiding your hips back to meet with his. You let out loud strings of moans and groans of Jisung’s name and incoherent words as Jisung fucks himself into you, raw. His dick throbs inside your wet walls. You clench around him desperately, your back falling limp as you succumb to the pleasure.

“Oh, fuck, (Y/N), you do so well in this po-position, don’t you?” Jisung breathes out raggedly, and you moan loudly in response. Jisung’s hands harshly gripping your hips and waist to have you meet back with his harsh, aggressive thrusts. His cock burns your hot walls, burning in such a blissfully good way, it makes your eyes roll back in pleasure.

“Ji-Jisunggie -ah… It’s so… so good - oh, fuck! Just like that, please, just like that!” You scream out as Jisung props up one of his legs, allowing him to have a better angle to thrust even faster and harder. Ramming his rock hard dick into you with passion. Jisung’s hands trail around your waist and ass once you’ve started to bounce back, meeting with his thrusts on your own.

His hands knead your ass. Spreading your cheeks before firmly pressing them. One of his hands, however, reaches up. Slowly crawling up your back, and his hips stagger a bit as his hands grip a handful of your hair. First, his hand merely presses against your head. But, at some point, he yanks you head back. Forcing you up from the bed, and you use your weak arms as support as Jisung’s hand yanks at your hair. You stare at the wall, but you don’t focus on it. You can’t. Your eyes keep rolling back or crossing, mixing beautifully with your loud moans.

Jisung uses the grip on your hair to give him a steadier rhythm as he thrusted into you. His hips slapping against your ass, making it bounce with every thrust. The sounds of skin slapping, your loud moaning and Jisung’s groans and occasional dirty talk filled the room as Jisung pressed wet kisses to your neck. Suckling on the back of your neck especially, and you moan from the feeling of his tongue being flushed against your sweating skin.

It was so much, his cock, the pulling of your hair and his tongue on your neck. Your mind falls blank, thinking of nothing other than Jisung’s cock. Some drool dribbles down the side of your chin as your eyes water from the pleasure. You can’t say anything more, not even being able to form Jisung’s name correctly. You’re so fucked out, so beautifully fucked out.

Jisung definitely noticed it, too, since it gave him the courage to start biting your sensitive skin. It was more sensitive in some places, and you immediately knew that he left hickeys. He bite them gently, yet firmly before running his tongue over the markings.

Your pussy clenched around him dangerously tight. So tightly, it makes Jisung let out a low, broken moan and makes his hips stagger and twitch as he presses himself deep into you. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, babygirl? You gonna cum for me like the good little slut you are? Cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum for me,” Jisung groans out loudly, pressing your head against the sheets again, muffling your loud moans as you feel your climax nearing.

Your knees buckle as your legs twitch and tense dangerously tightly as you feel yourself cum hard. Jisung slows down slightly, riding you out on your high. Your loud moans turn into high pitched ones as your back spasms from the intensity of it.

Right after you cum, Jisung quickly pulls out of you before shooting ropes of white cum onto your ass. You breathe heavily, trying your best to catch your breath as you listen to Jisung moan loudly once he cums, too. Your pussy clenches around nothing, and you feel your entire body relax. All your muscles calm. Exhaustion washes over you like a tidal wave.

And you’re out like a light.

Jisung was a bit concerned as to why you fell asleep so easily. But, he didn’t argue. He gently cleaned you both up while you slept and changed you into a pair of his clothes after he realized you wouldn’t wake up even if he blew an air horn in your ear. He laid you in his bed, as comfortably as he could make you. He wiped the sweat off of your face and watched your sleeping face for a few minutes before he moved back to his desk, grabbing his laptop from his backpack and opening it. Opening work for his classes, since he’ll be absent for the rest of the day.

You slept exceptionally soundly, and he was thankful for that.

Jeongin actually came back that night, too. At first, he didn’t see you sleeping in Jisung’s bed, but once Jisung motioned for him to be quiet, Jeongin looked over to his bed to see locks of (H/C) hair poking out of the blanket. He wondered why you were here, and Jisung naturally just said that you had gotten into a fight and injured yourself and he was taking you in to take care of you. Jeongin didn’t argue much and minded his own business for the rest of the day.

However, Jisung intended to sleep next to you. But, he couldn’t bring himself to. The guilt piling inside him prevented him from doing so.

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